Monday, June 19
Jun. 20th, 2023 01:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gottawonderToday I am grateful for:
My Sweetie got things done that he needed early in the day.
I decided not to go to pottery today, because the rain has let up enough that I really needed to spend some time in the garden. The weeds are now activated.
I pulled weeds and grass for quite some time, and added some more peas to the poorly germinated row, and replanted the carrots as very few of them came up. I think they died because of the dry spell, even though I did water them.
The beans do look like they're coming, where it looks like they aren't coming, I carefully checked and they are sprouting under the soil.
We'll get something, anyhow.
My Sweetie got my bike out for me; I have a great bike that I've barely used. Between our house, yard, and Covid, I've gotten out of the habit of biking for fun. I miss it.
I thought about biking today, but I got pretty wet and tired from pulling weeds, and needed a nap to warm up.
It has rained so much, that the town where my husband is working was under evacuation for nearby forest fires, and now they are potentially under evacuation warning for floods.
Trainwreck texted me, nothing dramatic, but I don't know at this point how much I even want to talk to her.
I don't hate or anything. I've just really gotten tired of how I feel after I talk with her. It's not entirely her fault, my reaction is my own issue.
I have ruined many a good day by talking with her, and feeling like I either need to do something to help her, guilty for having a decent life of my own, or angry at her for not seeing that she chooses pain day after day after day but forces me to witness it without giving me a way to help her.
I know that by now, she's starting to see that maybe I don't want to talk with her, and she's testing it.
I really don't know how to talk to her in a way that won't sooner or later go back to the dynamic that it has become; she being the victim of some nameless oppressor, and me the bystander, wringing my hands in futility.
I don't want to hear about it anymore. This isn't normal life with it's ups and downs, this is grinding awfulness, and it is self-imposed, and I'm tired of watching it.
I will always end up reacting to her, I can't help but feel pain when she talks about her life, even if she doesn't always intend to burden me with it. How can you not feel something when someone tells you they feel like they can't breathe anymore, or that they have been sick for almost a year straight now, even if you know that living in a home like hers is making it worse, as is her drinking which makes the antibiotics nearly useless?
I care. I would just like that caring to not be somehow feeding her sick desire to have me pay attention to her suffering.
She wants attention, and is okay with getting it by being some sad victim of her own making.
I watched "Frida", and it was beautiful. I always think how impossible it really is to make a film or a book about a marriage or a life from an outsider's view.
I learned that "In 2002, General Motors paid Chumbawamba a sum of either $70,000 or $100,000, to use the song "Pass It Along" from the WYSIWYG album, for a Pontiac Vibe television advertisement. Chumbawamba gave the money to the anti-corporate activist groups Indymedia and CorpWatch who used the money to launch an information and environmental campaign against GM.[15][16]"
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chumbawamba#Band_politics_and_mainstream_success
My Sweetie got things done that he needed early in the day.
I decided not to go to pottery today, because the rain has let up enough that I really needed to spend some time in the garden. The weeds are now activated.
I pulled weeds and grass for quite some time, and added some more peas to the poorly germinated row, and replanted the carrots as very few of them came up. I think they died because of the dry spell, even though I did water them.
The beans do look like they're coming, where it looks like they aren't coming, I carefully checked and they are sprouting under the soil.
We'll get something, anyhow.
My Sweetie got my bike out for me; I have a great bike that I've barely used. Between our house, yard, and Covid, I've gotten out of the habit of biking for fun. I miss it.
I thought about biking today, but I got pretty wet and tired from pulling weeds, and needed a nap to warm up.
It has rained so much, that the town where my husband is working was under evacuation for nearby forest fires, and now they are potentially under evacuation warning for floods.
Trainwreck texted me, nothing dramatic, but I don't know at this point how much I even want to talk to her.
I don't hate or anything. I've just really gotten tired of how I feel after I talk with her. It's not entirely her fault, my reaction is my own issue.
I have ruined many a good day by talking with her, and feeling like I either need to do something to help her, guilty for having a decent life of my own, or angry at her for not seeing that she chooses pain day after day after day but forces me to witness it without giving me a way to help her.
I know that by now, she's starting to see that maybe I don't want to talk with her, and she's testing it.
I really don't know how to talk to her in a way that won't sooner or later go back to the dynamic that it has become; she being the victim of some nameless oppressor, and me the bystander, wringing my hands in futility.
I don't want to hear about it anymore. This isn't normal life with it's ups and downs, this is grinding awfulness, and it is self-imposed, and I'm tired of watching it.
I will always end up reacting to her, I can't help but feel pain when she talks about her life, even if she doesn't always intend to burden me with it. How can you not feel something when someone tells you they feel like they can't breathe anymore, or that they have been sick for almost a year straight now, even if you know that living in a home like hers is making it worse, as is her drinking which makes the antibiotics nearly useless?
I care. I would just like that caring to not be somehow feeding her sick desire to have me pay attention to her suffering.
She wants attention, and is okay with getting it by being some sad victim of her own making.
I watched "Frida", and it was beautiful. I always think how impossible it really is to make a film or a book about a marriage or a life from an outsider's view.
I learned that "In 2002, General Motors paid Chumbawamba a sum of either $70,000 or $100,000, to use the song "Pass It Along" from the WYSIWYG album, for a Pontiac Vibe television advertisement. Chumbawamba gave the money to the anti-corporate activist groups Indymedia and CorpWatch who used the money to launch an information and environmental campaign against GM.[15][16]"
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chumbawamba#Band_politics_and_mainstream_success
no subject
Date: 2023-06-21 06:56 am (UTC)Hopefully, you will have a decent crop of vegetables by midsummer. I harvested all the lettuce I planted from seed, and in its place I found volunteer tomato seedlings. These were moved to a new spot, and pickle vines were put in. Nothing is making great progress, but perhaps a dollop of cow manure will help - it sure is working for the roses, which are vibrant.
no subject
Date: 2023-06-21 05:45 pm (UTC)Hopefully I get something, even if it is later than mid summer.
no subject
Date: 2023-06-22 06:40 am (UTC)