I lay down for a nap three hours ago feeling good, wondering if I could really fall asleep. I did. Now I wake up sad. I'm tired of not knowing how I'm going to feel at different times of the day. Maybe I should ask for medication.
I'm thinking about my grandma who died years ago. I wonder what she would think of me today. I'd like to ask her did she ever have times when she was sad for no reason or happy when she shouldn't have been. Or did anybody else in the family seem that way. My family doesn't really like dealing with things like this.
One of my uncles had asthma when he was little. Then Grandma closed up a dirt cellar under her house. My uncle's asthma went away. Grandma thought moisture from the cellar caused the asthma. Today, we know about things like mold. There was probably something there letting off spores. Now we also know about chemical imbalances causing people's behavior to be erratic.
I'd love to tell her now about my last 20 years. I wonder what she'd think. I'm mostly happy now but nowhere near as accomplished as so many people expected. They think only about money. My parents always took such joy in insulting me I never talk to them anymore. It's like they knew exactly how to make me feel ashamed and worthless and like I don't deserve to exist and they played it for all they could get. I'm not living up to their expectations. I'm living up to mine. I don't know what Grandma would approve. My life works well enough for me. I'm not begging other relatives for money. If I have to walk away from a house sale owing the bank money yet, I'll be okay. The economy happened. It's not my fault. My family would never accept me for doing that. But I'm not asking them to. I don't expect them to eat the loss. Their knowledge of financial planning consists of buying lottery tickets just knowing there's some pattern to the numbers that are chosen. But then they insult their kids for not knowing about taxes and insurance even though talking about such is taboo.
Ignorant. Oh well. I'm better than that. Maybe I'll write Grandma a letter, what I would say to her if I could today. She'd still love me. My mom would just tell some story about how I let Grandma down sometime. But I knew when Grandma was mad at me and I knew when she forgave. She knew I just needed to be a kid sometimes. And she knew that kids goof up.
Written Sunday afternoon, September 4, 2011