I’m not just upset that I’m losing the babysitting. Now this family can’t come to our house. Cat allergy that is keeping the kids up at night with an inhaler. Clearly they can’t come here no matter how cool my house is. It’s not personal but no one invites us over as much I invite other people over. We are only invited to someones house once a month or so (I mean that we make one, maybe two house visits a month. Among all the dozens of people we know). People just don’t ask. So when someone can no longer come here… That’s going to be kind of the end of the friendship. We will see each other at public events and that’s it.

I notice that I can carry a lot of burden for “being the one to contact” in a relationship early on. I can do most of the calling/emailing/inviting… often for years. Then I hit a wall. It is very different timing for different people. But I hit this wall over and over.

If I don’t feel like people seek me out enough… I stop asking after a while. I don’t feel good. I feel like I am pestering. I feel like I am annoying. I should stop bothering people. Clearly if they actually liked me they might return my calls once in a while. They would invite me as often as I invite them. If they liked me as much as I like them.

But no relationship is equal. They are always balanced between people who have differing needs and differing amounts of energy to offer.

People don’t call or email or invite less because they don’t like me enough. They do what they do because that is their comfort level.

I hate that I flipped emotionally today. I had such a string of nice days. Now I’m crying and I feel bad and I feel very scared.

All of a sudden a lot of my “support” feels like it is gone again. I felt so very balanced and ok for at least a week or so. It was awesome.

Now I’m scared.

When I think of my needs and I think of the people in my life I feel very scared and very sad. My needs are too big. It isn’t appropriate for me to dump them on people. I have to figure out a way to cobble together enough from a lot of disparate ever changing sources.

Life is entropy. Everything always changes.

This weekend is booked to be pretty crazy. Of course we were invited to a 4th of July party. It would involve getting to meet the kids of a whole bunch of people I knew in high school. It would probably be a fun party but it would be high anxiety.

On the 5th I am going to have my middle school bestie bring over his new wife and child. I’m very excited to be meeting these people. Last time I saw him… he was pretty sad about where his life was. He felt very hopeless. This change is dramatic and wonderful. Then after that I’m hoping to go dancing with some of the home schoolers, but people are dropping like flies.

And I’m supposed to spend the 4th and 5th cleaning someone else’s house during the morning hours.

I am going to really miss the Thursday baby-sitting energy pick-me-up. That made rough weekends a lot easier. Oh well.

I hate feeling like I’m having a pity party. I hate feeling like I should say fuck everything and pack everything I own and move far far far away so I can stop looking around me for support. I won’t be disappointed if I stop having expectations and hopes.

Life isn’t a fantasy story. No matter how much it seems like it on the really good days.

Have sad news: paint

Whine. Feelings. Don’t get upset about having the feelings. Just have them. It’s ok. Don’t lash out. Don’t do mean things to anyone. Don’t go destroy relationships. Just sit. Feel. Hell, have another hit.

Feel the sadness. Feel the disappointment. Feel the rejection. Won’t kill you.

It’s ok to be sad about communication difficulties. It’s ok to be disappointed when someone can no longer trade child care. It’s ok to feel rejected when someone is not reciprocating on contact.

I don’t need to think I am bad for having the feelings.

I’m not actually hurting anyone by having feelings. I’m just sitting here. Breathe. Calm down. I hate that fucking phrase. It spikes my blood pressure and makes me snarl.

Ok, distraction?

I finished Diana Gabaldon’s newest book. It took me just over 48 hours. It is wonderful and I hate her guts because she ended on a HUGE CLIFF HANGER. WTF?!!?!??

Now I have to wait fucking years to know how it goes next. That sucks. See, this is why I usually don’t buy books when they first come out. I kind of hate Jean Auel with a passion for making me wait so long for her last shitty-ass book. That was how you fucking end that saga? Like that? Oh fucking hell. You should have just not done another book. The story was better before you fucked it up with your new-found prudery. Ugh.

I thought it was kind of funny how sex focused this Diana Gabaldon book was. More than once I found myself rolling my eyes and thinking “Oh great. Another one.” Her sex scenes are cute but not uhm quite the kind of graphic I’m used to so they aren’t wank material. Instead they just feel… kind of voyeuristic in a way that feels actually dirty. I mean, if I were into sweet gentle love making I might find them quite inspiring. Uhm. Yeah. Not so much.