I went and bought a suitcase today.  Actually, a three-piece luggage set, which at regular price was $199, but I got it for $70.  Pretty great deal.  It’s just weird to buy luggage.  It struck me as something real people do, and I’ve lapsed back into feeling like I’m not a real person.  Does the fact that I now own a matched luggage set make me a real person?

I’m not sure that will make any sense to anyone outside my head.  I’m not entirely sure I’m capable of making sense.

It’s all surreal, you know?  I’m really dysfunctional; I hardly leave my bed or get dressed or brush my hair or anything.  But at the same time, I’m planning for this big trip all on my own.  Going back to where I grew up, to most of the people I grew up with.  And I don’t know how I’m going to do with it.

I still sort of think of Birmingham as home.  It’s a little confusing–I never intend to live there again, I never really fit in anywhere there, but I’m still fond of it.  But I haven’t been back there in seven years, and there are a lot of bad memories there too.  And some bad people.

And then–Florida, with my mother, to help her after her neck surgery.  I volunteered for that: why?  I thought I was past trying to be good enough to make her love me, but is that why I’m doing it?  I’d prefer to think it’s mostly selfish, that I wanted to spend time at the beach and I volunteered because she’ll be at work most of the time, so I’ll get to do what I want.  I don’t know which is true; it’s probably a combination of both.  But it disgusts me that I’m weak enough to still go seeking her approval by playing the good daughter.

I think a lot of the confusion is because there are so many parts with conflicting feelings.  Cognitive dissonance, because it doesn’t make sense together.  Luckily I’ve gotten good at ambivalence.  I can hold multiple contradictory beliefs or wishes simultaneously, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or if it just means I’m extra crazy.  It probably doesn’t matter which.

I’m not making sense, am I?  I don’t think I’m making sense.  Part of me cares, but most of me doesn’t, anymore.  I don’t know what I’m talking about.  I don’t know what I’m writing.  It probably doesn’t matter.

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  1. You say, “I don’t know what I’m writing. It really doesn’t matter.”

    It SOOOO matters, Hope. You’re trying to work through things and that in and of itself if huge. If you were just a few more steps down the rabbit hole, you might not be doing even that.

    I give you big kudos for going back to your sister’s wedding. I was really nervous for my sister’s wedding, seeing all those people I hadn’t seen in a long time, but it turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

    And WTG on the luggage set — that’s a great deal! 🙂

  2. Your post makes lots of sense to me. (let us not think what that might say about me).

  3. Glad you were able to get out to get the luggage set. It was a great deal and I am happy that you had the energy to just do it. Good for you! Small steps sometimes, one step at a time. It’s all we can do. But we need to give ourselves credit for it. You did something — one little thing maybe, but it was something besides watching Netflix. And you didn’t stay in bed all day, so that was pushing back against the black dog of depression, even if it still wants to get you. So I want to congratulate you. (Even though I suspect you wouldn’t congratulate yourself for anything right now…) TC
    Pam

  4. Hope…I think what you have to say does matter. I want to hear it. What you write is important to me. I hope the upcoming trip wont be too stressful on you. Remember if it is you always have your friends online to come to for help. XXX

    • Thanks. I think the trip’s going to be good overall, though I’m sure there will be stresses. My youngest sister told me that she and my other sister are basically going to run interference if my grandfather decides to be an asshole about me needing to use the cane or not having a job. My sisters are the best. Ordinarily I’d also be stressed about my mother, especially considering I’m going down to Florida to stay with her for a week after the wedding, but she seems to have outgrown her crazy, finally. According to my sisters, she’s a lot less crazy now that she’s finally getting laid. 🙂

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