Emotional ups and downs, continued

Talked with the publisher of the newspaper in Center after my going to my new place to see the gas getting turned on. As I talked with her, and she listened, and talked back, I realized "all of it" was hitting me. The move ... two shifts in my landing place for my move ... my sister-in-law's death (which I hadn't yet told her about). I need to be kinder to myself. And, I'm kind of drained. I'll be glad when the move is done, when I get on vacation, and then just relax, and come back invigorated. I've been a bit lackadaisical on some aspects of planning this move. I suspect that's delayed bits of apprehension.

Emotional ups and downs

OK, two "downs" today as I prepare for my new job to become permanent.

One, in discussion with the interim publisher here, I thought she had planned to be taking the first full workweek of August for vacation herself. Well, it's actually the second half of that week and the first half of the second week. She still sounds OK w/me taking off. But, still, a bit of a jolt.

Two, was getting the gas turned on today at my rent house. I now realize it is indeed a bit smaller than my current apartment. I can "make it fit," but it's going to be tight. It's smaller than my last few apartments, at least a bit.

I guess I just still don't fully realize that a job quasi-loss, followed by two changes of target in my new job location (plus reading that, last year, the newspaper biz had its biggest contraction since 2007 or so), and my sister-in-law's death, are all coming together to hit me.

Repeatedly.

I'll stay sober.

But, good fucking doorknobs, this will be a fun ride for the next couple of months.

Feeling a bit empty

It's been a week since my sister-in-law died. I cried a week ago Saturday, when I got the news. Pinch-hitting at a temporary job, on the road, that turns out will become permanent, I didn't have much time, or mental energy, through last Friday.

I thought that, when I got back to what's "home" for one last week now, that maybe that would change. But, for a variety of reasons, like worried about getting the first edition of the paper out on my own on time, with it being paginated at corporate HQ (the whole process is new for me) and other things, I've been a bundle of nervous energy and other things.

Plus, there's worries about the move itself, getting ready to go on vacation not too long after that, and more.

I otherwise simply feel empty. Maybe I'm just a little emotionally fried, and friable.

That may change, soon enough. Let's hope so, and that it's for the better.

It may take a while, though. As I blogged a few weeks ago, May was the 10th anniversary of my dad's death. Brenda's death and, especially in the early years of her marriage to my brother Tim, her almost adoring take on my dad, has brought that to mind again too.

Death, life, memories, changes and contingencies

Right now, I'm kind of angry at American hypercapitalism, the continuing decline of the American newspaper business, and the backwardness of America with no official national vacation policy and, in general, much less vacation than other civilized countries.

I've long been politically, and professionally, angry about this. But now, it's personal.

I just found out my sister-in-law died early this morning. Brenda had inoperable cancer ... well, inoperable after previous operations, radiation and chemo had all been tried. By this spring, she and Tim knew that, barring a "miracle," it was a matter of time — likely a year.

Before she got too sick, with the help of a crowdfunder, the two of them went to Florida, to the beaches, Disney World and more. I'm glad they had that last time together.

I may have known Brenda, growing up, before Tim did. At any rate, it was probably at about the same time. She was two grades ahead of me, and two grades behind Tim, in high school. Before I moved away from New Mexico with my dad, I had her in my PE class when I was a sophomore, along with her sister. About that same time, near the end of that school year, the two of them started going out. A little over two years later, they got married.

I remember learning the tip of the iceberg already at that time over the pettiness of divorced parents (mine — Brenda's mom was a widow) as to whether the two of them were "suitable" (as in, Brenda might not be), whether one or both were too long, both mom and dad "projecting" some of their thoughts onto the other and more. As I got older and older, I learned more and more, especially about dad's attitudes. And, was less and less surprised, the more and more I learned, sadly.

Josh and Jason were my first nephews. As they grew, they were in some ways alike, others hugely different. Why, I don't know. I know that Tim and Brenda didn't, either.

This April, I took off a whole two-and-a-half days ... first time I'd had more than two weekdays off in 3.5 years. Maybe I should have burned the whole third day, and flown out to New Mexico rather than driving out to the Texas Panhandle.

I thought there would be more "later" time, and I wanted some "me" time as soon as possible.

And, now she's gone.

I've already gotten OK for taking off the second week in August, as I prepare to  move to a new job. If they have an official memorial, I'll be there for that. If not, I'll just be there.

Funerals, and memorials, are for the living. Unfortunately, I didn't see Brenda one last time while she was still in the living.

And, everybody in the family knows I'm some type of non-believer, even if they don't know the full details, anyway

So, if funerals are for the living, my mourning is better done alone, at least to start. And start I have.

I think this has also brought other families, with this being the 10-year anniversary of my dad's death, to mind, too.

Ten years later, and still angry at times

My dad would have been 85 yesterday.

That's if he hadn't died just over 10 years ago.

Having had my previous newspapers of publishing sold out from under me, albeit with landing on my feet again, now is as good a time as any to reflect on anger over my career of sorts and other things, and connect it to "dear old dad."

Trying to follow in his ministry footsteps, with him passively at times making sure I stayed focused on that, and actively at other times working to cut off other paths, like finding and tossing a partially filled out application to New Mexico Tech to study astrophysics ...

Then finally "escaping," and it being too late, realistically, to do other things academically, especially with a guilt-tripped brain, even as he let me move back in with him ...

I accept that this is where I am. I accept that I'm not poor, even though I hate being in a crumbling profession with anxiety over the future fueled by PTSD.

Yeah, I'm angry. Relative lack of job security at age 50-plus isn't fun. Neither is having a job that doesn't pay ... oh, not a lot, but, say, $5-10,000 more than I actually make. Neither is not having a job, and a career path, that I didn't more actively choose.

Above all is having a dad that steered me away from this — and a mom that allegedly divorced him because of this, but had no real post-divorce interventions.

Family frustrations

First, let me say that this particular family member has been very supportive of many of my needs, including, years ago, coming to visit me when I was wigging out at a new job with some anxiety issues.

Second, I don't know if they're my one blog follower, but I'm going to write anyway.

The issue is that they went through almost all of the same family environment as I did. Perhaps less on some particular types of abuses, perhaps more on some, but, overall, about the same.

We all react differently to family-of-origin abuse, based on the degree to which we got different results in the genetic pool, on inheriting emotional tendencies and affects, etc., as well as pre-natal epigenetic tagging in the womb and more.

That's react differently both in how strongly react, and what specific reactions we have. That's part of the angle here.

For instance — and part of this may be general genetic or epigenetic heritability, and nothing to do with the abuse, but surely exacerbated by it — I am a BIG "space" person.

And this person knows that to some degree. Maybe they don't recognize just how deep it is, but they' know it to some degree.

That's why I get frustrated when, if they're traveling more than an hour or two straight, whether cross-regional, cross-state, or interstate, rather than turn on a radio station, or have some CDs in the car or whatever, they call me to be a boredom filler as much as anything. A mix of trivial, and rumination — rumination which I probably should "honor" more, yet, try to figure out more productive ways to both protect myself and prod them onward in growth as well as offering support — can run an hour. Or more. Like 90 minutes.

That leads to the bigger issue.

I'm not saying I was affected worse than them. Or that I was affected not as much as them.

That's not the issue.

The issue is that I still don't think they realize how much they were affected. They've gotten some help in the past. I think it's been more than surface-level help, but I'm not sure how much more than that it's been.

It's ultimately their problem.

But, not just their problem.

To the degree this leads them to want me to be some of the things above, it becomes my problem, especially as it interacts with my own "space" issues.

Yes, there are times where I can lament, a bit, being alone so often. And, there are even times when I feel lonely, and feel sad about feeling lonely.

BUT ... I'd like to, ideally, address that more on my own terms.

Some of that loneliness, like intimate relationship loneliness, may never be fixed that well. I know that, even as I lament it. I'm not "damaged goods," but I have had a damaged life. And, my current continuation of bouncing around small towns doesn't help.

But, ultimately, that issue and how I deal with it is mine. And, I've already recognized that, good intentions aside, actual help from elsewhere may not always be available.

Between all this, losing my current job with a company sale of my newspaper, but landing on me feet with another job from the old company and other things, I'm probably going to be a huge ball of stress off and on for a few months.

I'll deal with it the best I can ... and primarily looking to sobriety friends first, a couple of other friends after that, then family after that.