Once again, I've gone about two months between blogs. And as I've said before, it's not because there's nothing to write about. There's always fodder.
Welcome to fall. The leaves changing are beautiful, the cool air is refreshing, and as everyone keeps proclaiming- pumpkin spice everything is everywhere... I like fall, I do, but (and there's always a but), it is the desistance of warmth and the precursor to winter. And, I hate winter.
The bitter cold, the snowy impassable roads, the darkness... The ONE thing I like about winter is Christmas. I'm already trying to figure out where my tree is going this year. Dawson wants a real tree this year, but I like to put mine up the week of Thanksgiving (yes, that early). I'm afraid a real tree wouldn't last my lengthy Christmas season. We'll see.
And winter does wonders for my already challenging moods. My day long neropsychology eval indicated what we already knew- anxiety, major depression, bipolar. Winter exacerbates those. About half way through the this winter I'll be joining the ranks of the uninsured... I will have to pay out of pocket for my doctor, my psychiatrist, my medications... If I can afford to. Dear lord, if I can't afford to, what will I do??? Anyway... I'll price healthcare market plans, and hopefully find one that I can afford and that actually has some coverage to it. But it's not hopeful. Any plan that is "affordable" has terribly high deductibles and usually around 50-60% coinsurance. Welcome to America, where if you can't get coverage through your employer, you have to pay an exorbitant amount of money for inadequate health insurance.
I miss the lake. I thought that eventually I would "get over it" (as people so callously advise.. "get over it")... anyway... But I haven't gotten over it. I miss living on the water probably more than anything. I still could move to the house that my landlord has open (the bigger of his two rentals is still available), but I couldn't afford it on my own. But I want to. I so want to. I imagine working seven days a week just to afford living there. If I didn't have the car payment, I could do it... And I wrack my brain to figure out a way... Sigh.
I've been thinking a lot about time. More specifically, the passage of time. Every week, it seems, is measured by workdays and days off. Oh, it's my Monday. Oh, it's my Friday. Then again- Oh, it's my Monday. Oh it's my Friday (and so on, and so on). And the days pass so quickly. The weeks pass. The months... Our time here is so very limited, and goes by so very fast. I think the older I get, the more cognizant I am of it. It frightens me. My mortality anxiety is in full bloom. And again I ask myself (from Jack Nicholson, in my favorite movie)- What if this is as good as it gets?
Speaking of mortality anxiety... I've been thinking a lot about those we've lost. Dad, Bampa, Doreen, Jayden... And how unfair life really is. I miss them all so much. So very much.
And I miss having friends. At least, I think I do. I've always said I don't need any. But maybe I do? Would life be more fulfilling if I had more people to share it with? I don't know. I used to have (at least) one person that I would call if I had news to tell. You know, that one person in life that you want to talk to when something good, or bad, or even just interesting happens. That "go-to" person... But not really, not anymore. And I see people getting together for lunches, or dinners, or evenings out. And I think, silently, I am envious. And yet, I make no effort to become one of those people, and continue to keep myself unattached. Ah, the conundrum.
Oh, but I should count my blessings. Again, as people so often advise; count your blessings. And I try. I really do...
I am still very happy to be back at Jester's. I am so happy that my daughter has found herself in such a good position in life right now; a good job, a lovely apartment on the river, and realizing what it means to truly be treated with kindness and respect. I am thankful that my boy is back. I know it's been some time now that he's returned, but I'm still so grateful for it. I am happy that I still have my mom.
But I still can't help that nagging feeling... of regret... that I live with. Dissatisfaction. Discontent.
Perhaps it's the weather.
Welcome to fall. The leaves changing are beautiful, the cool air is refreshing, and as everyone keeps proclaiming- pumpkin spice everything is everywhere... I like fall, I do, but (and there's always a but), it is the desistance of warmth and the precursor to winter. And, I hate winter.
The bitter cold, the snowy impassable roads, the darkness... The ONE thing I like about winter is Christmas. I'm already trying to figure out where my tree is going this year. Dawson wants a real tree this year, but I like to put mine up the week of Thanksgiving (yes, that early). I'm afraid a real tree wouldn't last my lengthy Christmas season. We'll see.
And winter does wonders for my already challenging moods. My day long neropsychology eval indicated what we already knew- anxiety, major depression, bipolar. Winter exacerbates those. About half way through the this winter I'll be joining the ranks of the uninsured... I will have to pay out of pocket for my doctor, my psychiatrist, my medications... If I can afford to. Dear lord, if I can't afford to, what will I do??? Anyway... I'll price healthcare market plans, and hopefully find one that I can afford and that actually has some coverage to it. But it's not hopeful. Any plan that is "affordable" has terribly high deductibles and usually around 50-60% coinsurance. Welcome to America, where if you can't get coverage through your employer, you have to pay an exorbitant amount of money for inadequate health insurance.
I miss the lake. I thought that eventually I would "get over it" (as people so callously advise.. "get over it")... anyway... But I haven't gotten over it. I miss living on the water probably more than anything. I still could move to the house that my landlord has open (the bigger of his two rentals is still available), but I couldn't afford it on my own. But I want to. I so want to. I imagine working seven days a week just to afford living there. If I didn't have the car payment, I could do it... And I wrack my brain to figure out a way... Sigh.
I've been thinking a lot about time. More specifically, the passage of time. Every week, it seems, is measured by workdays and days off. Oh, it's my Monday. Oh, it's my Friday. Then again- Oh, it's my Monday. Oh it's my Friday (and so on, and so on). And the days pass so quickly. The weeks pass. The months... Our time here is so very limited, and goes by so very fast. I think the older I get, the more cognizant I am of it. It frightens me. My mortality anxiety is in full bloom. And again I ask myself (from Jack Nicholson, in my favorite movie)- What if this is as good as it gets?
Speaking of mortality anxiety... I've been thinking a lot about those we've lost. Dad, Bampa, Doreen, Jayden... And how unfair life really is. I miss them all so much. So very much.
And I miss having friends. At least, I think I do. I've always said I don't need any. But maybe I do? Would life be more fulfilling if I had more people to share it with? I don't know. I used to have (at least) one person that I would call if I had news to tell. You know, that one person in life that you want to talk to when something good, or bad, or even just interesting happens. That "go-to" person... But not really, not anymore. And I see people getting together for lunches, or dinners, or evenings out. And I think, silently, I am envious. And yet, I make no effort to become one of those people, and continue to keep myself unattached. Ah, the conundrum.
Oh, but I should count my blessings. Again, as people so often advise; count your blessings. And I try. I really do...
I am still very happy to be back at Jester's. I am so happy that my daughter has found herself in such a good position in life right now; a good job, a lovely apartment on the river, and realizing what it means to truly be treated with kindness and respect. I am thankful that my boy is back. I know it's been some time now that he's returned, but I'm still so grateful for it. I am happy that I still have my mom.
But I still can't help that nagging feeling... of regret... that I live with. Dissatisfaction. Discontent.
Perhaps it's the weather.