14 October 2023

Dad was sitting up in bed and eating breakfast this morning. Carrie got to call the ICU while he was still there, and whoever answered the phone acted as go-between. Carrie asked how he was, and he said he was fine. So he’s talking too.

Later in the day he got moved to a regular room. I’ve got the room number but don’t know if I will contact him. I’m not feeling particularly conflicted about it but I’m also not quite jaded enough yet to not worry at all about how other people will respond to whatever decisions I make in that regard. I’m MOSTLY not worried, but I’m not all the way there, if that makes any sense. But I also know that once my parents are gone my last ties to that area of the world will be utterly gone. I even, as much as I like her, get the sense that Carrie only tolerates me to be polite. I was telling her that with my daughter gone I’m really alone here now and she was like “get out there and meet people!” like I’d just said I’d run out of ice cream and all I have to do is go buy some more. A Canadian political activist who is a Facebook friend pointed out the other day, addressing his own personal situation, that you cannot make new old friends. That’s what I actually need, my old friends, but apparently my taste in friends over the course of my life has been rivaled only by my taste in men. I’m surprised none of this has ever occurred to Carrie, that my situation might be undesirable for particular reasons which cannot now be repaired. But I also get the sense she doesn’t care. I’m not going to ask. Once the parents are gone that’ll be it. I don’t even have my grandparents’ house to go take refuge in anymore. Mom sold that and I will not now be inheriting it.

Probably just as well. The only thing that appealed to me about the place was my people, and my people have got no use for me. The ones who liked me are now all dead.

Rain today. Patchy-to-drizzly, mainly. It’s been a dry year but frankly, I could do with it being dry a bit longer so I can see if I can get this month sorted without having to fear for my life after sunset; rain after dark with everyone’s bright-ass headlights means I lose visibility for seconds at a time. But either I will get the $1000 sorted or I will get a room sorted. I’m good either way. I still have not heard from Molly, my Salvation Army caseworker, so if Elizabeth ends up calling her or emailing her to ask about things, I guess that will light a fire under Molly’s ass, won’t it. (And all I asked was whether I am still in the program. I think that is a reasonable question to ask, wouldn’t you agree? That is what was not answered. Nice.) But I would like to get the rent if at all possible. That way if Elizabeth persists in not giving me documentation of what I owe on electricity, she’s got the full $1000 from the deposit to make up for it. If she has to use it to cover the last month’s rent instead, that’s not good for her. It won’t matter to me either way, after the way this summer has gone. I want to do right by her, but if I can’t, I can’t. She’s either dragged her feet with or outright neglected my things she needed to get done. She’s over-promised and under-delivered. I think I’ve done pretty damned well by comparison, considering.

I was mistaken when I thought they took Pat out of here to go to a hospice center. I knew a lot of times hospice is at home, and turns out his is too. I can’t say I’m surprised. He and Elizabeth built their own little paradise here and I could see him not wanting to leave it. I know that’s taking up a lot of Elizabeth’s mental real estate. It doesn’t change the way things are on my end. Must make a mental note to never try to rescue anybody when I am in the middle of a crisis. It’s not fair to them or to me.

In a distantly related vein, I am feeling a sea change (oh, here we go being corny) in regards to certain other things. Sort of where I’m not quite ready to let go yet but am seriously questioning what the point is. I’m not unsafe or anything — don’t get the wrong idea. This isn’t about me, this is about, erm, a certain object of focus. (By “object” I mean as in subject-verb-object, not that he is actually a thing.) For four years now I have had this sort of secret hope ongoing where I wanted to make certain things happen in order to put myself in the way of other things being more likely to happen. I think the only reason I still hang on to that is it’s a nice harmless little form of escapism that makes life more tolerable. But maybe it is also siphoning away mental energy I need to get my shit sorted. Also, for all the self-deprecating humor I indulge in, I really have a higher opinion of myself than was ever warranted. I’m afraid my perspective was skewed by living through a time in which there were too many men available per population of women and so the men would take nearly any pussy offered, available, or just randomly walking past minding its own business. It made me think I was more attractive or interesting than I actually was. Then there was Matt and his bullshit and that only extended the delusion. He didn’t mean it, of course. I was his consolation prize since his own wife wasn’t interested enough in him. (Wait til Crys finds out she is a hybrid consolation prize and escape hatch. Again. This is not the first time.) I started cluing in to just how little I had to offer as I navigated Men Trying To Date Through Social Media over a span of a decade or so. It’s pretty much a done deal now. So what I thought I was doing trying to put myself in the way of getting someone else’s attention, I really do not know. It’s pointless.

I can’t really go into much more detail than that, or more accurately won’t because I’m embarrassed enough already. Or whatever passes for “embarrassed” when one is almost constantly emotionally numb except for occasional bouts of rage, anyway. But yeah. Thinky-thoughts.

I should just cobble together a life plan, and then go for it. It doesn’t matter anymore what it is, as long as I go with something. If I keep hemming and hawing trying to get it Just Right, I’ll be ninety and dead and it’ll be too late. And life goes ever faster the older I get. Och, ye’re a long time deid.