h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I don't know why I'm writing this here. No one is going to read it; I don't think anyone's read my posts in years. Months at the minimum. It never fails to amaze me that with all the mass of material on the web, and so much of it is just junk - pure schmutz - which will get hundreds of hits, and yet my local friends have never read my entries, even when they were updated regularly. Amazing.

I am feeling the sting of disappointment. Today was solstice, something important to me - it's when I'm most alive, and if I have any life energy at all, it is now. It is also a full moon tonight. And it is also the anniversary of my best friend's death. All very significant events to me. However, it seems that no one cares. No one cared that it was solstice. No one cared that it was full moon, other than the idea that it would be pretty to watch a sunset. No one cared that this is the first time in years I've been allowed to acknowledge these things, or celebrate them, or that I've been allowed to observe the anniversary of my best friend's death. In fact, I would be willing to bet that even if I pointed out that my best friend had died on this day, June 21st, six years ago, I would get blank looks. I had thought it would be great to have some sort of solstice celebration. Maybe play night games. Something. Be able to say happy solstice to someone? But no one I know that would care about such a thing was on chat this morning. I woke up at dawn, of my own accord - an accomplishment in and of itself, given a decade-and-some-long history of battling sleeping diorder, and was up by 6:30, before even my baby was awake. No one on chat. 8:00, still no one on chat. A couple of friends who had claimed interest in a soltice thing decided that the were too busy, or it was too much of a hassle, or something. I was told that if it was important to me, maybe I should have planned something. And that open another can of worms. For years I have been the one to plan things. Now, I have the social graces of a common garden slug. And I have never been good at planning events, or thinking of things to do. And yet, year after year, I have been the one making sure my friends remember each others' birthdays, planning the parties even when I have to throw them together in 24 hours or less, acknowledging the milestones such as leaving home to go away to school the first time, or graduations, or whatever; I have been the one planning things, or trying to make sure other people really acknowledge it, because I like my friends to feel special, or at least that the matter. In all this time, nay, longer; not since I turned 17 so many years ago - 11 years next Tuesday - has anyone done something in my honor. Just once it would be nice to feel that I am worth it, that I mean enough to someone that they want to organize something for me. It seems this is not to be. A golden birthday in a week, and damned if I know what to do that would be fun, especially given that it seems to be a burden to anyone to take the baby for a decent amount of time, when I don't have to get the house in order. We're still not moved in.

I have been trying to organize my music collection, as the only good and reliable antidepressant I've found is music. It is at least a treatment, if not a cure. The problem is when I feel so down I don't want to listen to any music. Or, currently, we have a bit of a family crisis - the other half's grandmother died recently, so we're playing host to the family, and space is tight and time is weird. I have a lot going on, and the next few months are going to be busy, and I don't know how it's going to turn out. I am often plagued by feelings that I don't really have close friends, not like I used to have. I often feel like I have to be accommodating, that I need to twist how I interact in order to make the friendships work, tha I have to sacrifice something in my definition of friendship just to hold on to something that doesn't seem to want me anyway. A lot of loose ends from the past still flapping around, and though I may be hit by inspiration and creative bursts I find I lack the time and opportunity to pursue them (see "baby"). I don't like burdening my other half entirely with child-rearing, but I'm determined not to let my life and interests die, because I know I certainly won't be a good parent if I let that happen. I want to give that little girl something to look up to, to have her know that her parents are not stagnant fixtures in the background. But doing that and still also being a parent if the big challenge.

So I conclude this, my disappointing plummeting solstice experience; a great source of energy - this holiday that happily coincided with a full moon, how often does that happen, that has been reduced to so many wishful ashes. My worry is that I did not make full experience of this time, and from here it's downhill until the darkest winter night, when I struggle to live. I would have thought that the others around me would want to celebrate this time of life versus death, energy versus dormancy, all these things represented by summer solstice, and yet these days everyone goes home before the clock hits ten, because apparently being cooped up all winter isn't enough to override a sense of having had a rough week, or deciding that it's more fun to go home and not talk to friends, or something.
I need space. I need quiet. I need opportunity to do what I am now able to do but find hindrances. What I need is time returned to me. And that cannot happen.


marchhare out

Not that that can help much, not being a physical one, but for what it's worth...

At least someone's out there and watching.......

Thanks.

If you see I'm on IM, and you want to talk, go ahead and say hi I haven't really been initiating many convos with anyone for a while now...