my sister just wound up her Ph.D.
that’s been going along in the background for a couple of years.
Claire does not like me. Claire likes to use me. And people love to support her in this. Even during the going on 29 years that I was a desperate mother. They joke about me.
it’s on my mother and father. They were always afraid to correct her when she was young because she was a late baby (late in my mother’s years) and tiny and pretty and scrawy; she wasnt eating and wasnt growing and they got a scare. I know what that felt like because I had the same thing happen with my son. It was terrifying.
she was an endearing little girl. She also came a few years after an ectopic pregnancy that was devastating to our family. I can see it all now as I could not see it then.
I felt like I lost my mother at that time (after the etopic pregnancy)
and some kind of hulk came home and I finally realized last night, in a visceral way, that my dear mother, the person only Steven and I knew, will never be coming back. Not in this world. I had tears for. But I see her. I see her HELPING. I see her BEING THERE FOR ME IN THE WAYS THAT THERE WAS NO WAT FOR HER TO SHOW ME AT THE TIME. But I have to be careful. Because there were other Judith’s with other interests than me and they OFTEN conflict.
Now that my brother Steven is gone, the family is f’d. And then my mother. We’re like a tree without roots, waiting to be replanted. In fact, when the septic tank broke open last year (another factor in my leaving here and my breakdown that I had forgotten) the willow fell (the sewage must have gotten into the groundwater, that’s what I figure); and now that I am able to take notice I see that ten or so trees are bare and dead out towards the woods where the spring and the small river are.
Our spring fed water doesn’t taste so good, my father insists that it is fine, i ordered bottled water and he went ape-shit on the delivery man so I am afraid to order it again. I also have EXTREME environmental concerns about bottled Springwater, where is it all coming from? When is it going to run out?
But I just resolved that mine is the kind of special case where it WOULD be warranted and then about 3 seconds later I saw that I could instead get a Brita filter or something like that!!! Well, we have all these crazy faucets that my mother (God rest her soul) put in place but I’m sure I can work something out.
Well, the thing about the willow was that, along with a lot of other things she got done that had been waiting forever; like replacing the roof; she had some branches taken off that old willow so they wouldn’t fall and crash down on the glass, “conservatory” roof. Also known as the “atrium.” It has a stone floor, an arched ceiling, cedar walls with high windows; it was full of plants but hey are gone now. The spring that provides our water runs through the room and into the sealed in Spring Room between me and the main part of the house where my father lives; we call this “the cottage.” There are rails around it partially; there are large fish sometimes as well as minnows and for about the last year and a half there has been a large frog. He likes to sit on the lower stone step and the cats like to watch him. I wonder what it means about my ex-husband. (You know, the frog you kiss and he turns into a prince!)
Anyway through my mother’s work this place has been declared a historic site and this is IMPORTANT. For reasons I won’t say right now and that nobody could possibly guess. It is worth the time, effort, and cost that I want to expend toward restoring it to just how it needs to be. As far as the devastation I wreaked in a state of heightened awareness, deprived of my medication, last October, under the power and through the influence of an alien; driven by God Himself, it was like the first step on one of those home redo shows on t,v., they were running all day long at the last hospital I went to. They’d make their plans and decisions and choices and then take the axe to the home the couple had chosen: ripping out a central wall or cabinet. Then the homeowner knew it was done and the EXCITEMENT started; and the work.
so, that’s where we are at. It was like some yellow trucks were in here diggng into the filth in here it was so thick. I think I said, this place had not been realistically cleaned in 3 1/2 years. When I came back in 2018 it was practically like I was on my death bed. I would lay in here until 4 pm sometimes feeling terrified. With my bad back, neck, legs, and feet, I just couldn’t clean.
the yellow trucks phase was the miraculous assist I got upon returning from Philhaven June 28. I worked 7 hours straight the first day after laying in a hospital bed 8 months straight; much of the time. And my roommate liked it dark. Then I continued to work like that without a break for 6 days. Some of the work I had to do involved errands outside of the house– restoring my financial life, returning to modernity differently. I have made made different choices about my technical equipment and I am struggling with them but it is much better than trying to use that sick and dying laptop and porn-rife cell phone.
so, it was time for a change. A big change.
same applies to me and Claire (my sister.)
And there is no way to express it to her.
in my head I hear her saying that she “just wants me to be impressed.”
for one thing I dont beieve that, I believe her she has ravening instincts from childhood when I was a temporary solution to Judith’s inability to function as a mother because of the ectopic pregnancy and once Claire became a young woman that wasn’t appropriate any more and didnt satisfy her needs anyway. It was about our mother being half dead after the ectopic pregnancy! It affected her too!!! I had grief to console me, if you see what I mean, I had the memory of my mother. She never had that.
I believe she wants to rudely latch onto me and use me however she wants for whatever-she-wants.
and that’s not going to happen. I am slowly separating myself from where I was materially, mentally attached to people in my life in the most insidious way and and it is time for this to end. It was called ” bondage to sin” by a woman at the Spring in Tampa. But in fact it was bondage to people. I was knarled up with them like we were the trunk of an ancient tree. God is helping me unwind myself and slip free. This is the work if Hopkins–this evil bondage.
Claire will come free too. But she has to see what she is doing and find a better way. I am sick of being abused
Un.Bon.Mot 