Just one asshole. You know they're waiting. Like bees needing to check the flowers or ants wandering in and out of cracks in the wall. What you built matters not to them. Vulnerability becomes everyone's clothing and the odds of having the wherewithal to deal with an asshole...oy. I like the way you share your consciousness.
I know I say this every time you pop up but I SWEAR I was just thinking about you. If I never run into another asshole it will be too soon. Wishful thinking, I know.
Doh! I feel this...it was like all of 2023! Major appliances seem like they always conspire to go kaput in the same week, too. I'm not paranoid but that doesn't mean the internet-enabled durable goods manufacturers aren't out to get me. :)
I guess I'm pretty lucky as far as my "Winter Days" are concerned. I have a significant other who shares the mortgage and bills. This is a BIG help. It allowed me to retire when my body said, "NO MORE"!
Do I panic? It's gotten better with age. I just don't have the energy for it, and I am learning to pick my battles. However, it has been a very long process. I do talk to myself as well as some of my deceased friends. I feel that they listen. My escape fantasy would probably be just to get in my car and see where life takes me.
Ah! When I am talking myself back to Less Anxiety, one thing I try to tell myself is I do not have the energy for it. I’m so glad your SO is very helpful.
Oh Spike! What a week. I feel like I have been responsible for as long as I can remember, and even remember my parents saying things like, "it's so nice having a daughter we don't have to worry about," which is such a negligent parent thing to express out loud. I moved out at 15, no surprise.
in 2012 I started paying for life insurance, which is awesome because it sort of doubles as a long term savings if I decide to cash it out, will pay me a monthly pension if I choose it when I'm old, or will set up my family for a little while if I cash out. Otherwise, my only real long term savings is the property I own, and a little savings account I keep tucked away hidden from my husband.
I used to love the idea of a little Gen X retirement village, but watching your woes has made me acutely aware of how one asshole can ruin the whole thing—and you kind of don't know exactly who the asshole is until you've lived with them. People are pretty good at concealing the specific type of assholeishness that cohabitation makes impossible to hide.
I'm just glad you've got a good attitude and outlook. Even at the age of 45, it is clear to me now that if I want to live to be an old lady, it's gonna mean seeing a lot of folks I love go to their graves before me. Sobering but reality.
I only learned positive self talk in the last decade, and to be honest it still feels really cheesy but on occasion is deeply necessary to get me back on the rails.
One thing I liked about lockdown in hindsight—despite all the sundry bullshit in Shitville etc—I sort of gave myself the childhood I didn’t get. I explored so many different visual art forms, and creating visual art was really new to me. I was responsible for five younger siblings—cooking, cleaning, babysitting. I often say my son is my sixth child. It was way too much responsibility for me but I did rise to the occasion probably mostly because I didn’t have a choice.
I haven’t totally let go of the dream of maybe building a village. I certainly have the room for it. But I am pretty sure I don’t have the emotional bandwidth. I’m going to keep mulling my options. I do feel extraordinarily fortunate that this ranch came to me. I’m not sure how I would survive the retirement years without it—I never did save up anything because there was never any leftover to save when I was raising a kid.
Oh how this resonates! I did fifteen years of food service and never even noticed until after the fact that I had swapped out one dysfunctional family for another. In relationships I have often been drawn to men who were truly dangerous, not “merely jerks.” I finally stopped pursuing partnerships (romantic) because I think even if I did forty more years of therapy that the bat signal inside of me will never go out and I would just keep seeking/finding the same type.
Keep going! Also, I wanted to let you know that this and your today's Write With Spike came into my email but not my In Box on Substack (Write with Spike goes to the other in box).
Thank you! Hmmm…I am quite substack illiterate so I’m not sure what any of it means re: in boxes. Please let me know if the same thing happens next week and if so I will start googling for solutions. Xo
Just one asshole. You know they're waiting. Like bees needing to check the flowers or ants wandering in and out of cracks in the wall. What you built matters not to them. Vulnerability becomes everyone's clothing and the odds of having the wherewithal to deal with an asshole...oy. I like the way you share your consciousness.
I know I say this every time you pop up but I SWEAR I was just thinking about you. If I never run into another asshole it will be too soon. Wishful thinking, I know.
Doh! I feel this...it was like all of 2023! Major appliances seem like they always conspire to go kaput in the same week, too. I'm not paranoid but that doesn't mean the internet-enabled durable goods manufacturers aren't out to get me. :)
And then yesterday the washer and the microwave shit the bed. I am certain they are out to get us.
Ay yi yi. When it rains it pours.
I guess I'm pretty lucky as far as my "Winter Days" are concerned. I have a significant other who shares the mortgage and bills. This is a BIG help. It allowed me to retire when my body said, "NO MORE"!
Do I panic? It's gotten better with age. I just don't have the energy for it, and I am learning to pick my battles. However, it has been a very long process. I do talk to myself as well as some of my deceased friends. I feel that they listen. My escape fantasy would probably be just to get in my car and see where life takes me.
Ah! When I am talking myself back to Less Anxiety, one thing I try to tell myself is I do not have the energy for it. I’m so glad your SO is very helpful.
Oh Spike! What a week. I feel like I have been responsible for as long as I can remember, and even remember my parents saying things like, "it's so nice having a daughter we don't have to worry about," which is such a negligent parent thing to express out loud. I moved out at 15, no surprise.
in 2012 I started paying for life insurance, which is awesome because it sort of doubles as a long term savings if I decide to cash it out, will pay me a monthly pension if I choose it when I'm old, or will set up my family for a little while if I cash out. Otherwise, my only real long term savings is the property I own, and a little savings account I keep tucked away hidden from my husband.
I used to love the idea of a little Gen X retirement village, but watching your woes has made me acutely aware of how one asshole can ruin the whole thing—and you kind of don't know exactly who the asshole is until you've lived with them. People are pretty good at concealing the specific type of assholeishness that cohabitation makes impossible to hide.
I'm just glad you've got a good attitude and outlook. Even at the age of 45, it is clear to me now that if I want to live to be an old lady, it's gonna mean seeing a lot of folks I love go to their graves before me. Sobering but reality.
I only learned positive self talk in the last decade, and to be honest it still feels really cheesy but on occasion is deeply necessary to get me back on the rails.
Sending love, always.
One thing I liked about lockdown in hindsight—despite all the sundry bullshit in Shitville etc—I sort of gave myself the childhood I didn’t get. I explored so many different visual art forms, and creating visual art was really new to me. I was responsible for five younger siblings—cooking, cleaning, babysitting. I often say my son is my sixth child. It was way too much responsibility for me but I did rise to the occasion probably mostly because I didn’t have a choice.
I haven’t totally let go of the dream of maybe building a village. I certainly have the room for it. But I am pretty sure I don’t have the emotional bandwidth. I’m going to keep mulling my options. I do feel extraordinarily fortunate that this ranch came to me. I’m not sure how I would survive the retirement years without it—I never did save up anything because there was never any leftover to save when I was raising a kid.
Love to you!
Oh how this resonates! I did fifteen years of food service and never even noticed until after the fact that I had swapped out one dysfunctional family for another. In relationships I have often been drawn to men who were truly dangerous, not “merely jerks.” I finally stopped pursuing partnerships (romantic) because I think even if I did forty more years of therapy that the bat signal inside of me will never go out and I would just keep seeking/finding the same type.
Keep going! Also, I wanted to let you know that this and your today's Write With Spike came into my email but not my In Box on Substack (Write with Spike goes to the other in box).
Thank you! Hmmm…I am quite substack illiterate so I’m not sure what any of it means re: in boxes. Please let me know if the same thing happens next week and if so I will start googling for solutions. Xo
I will -- I am also fairly stack illiterate !
There was a point when I really got pretty good at it. Maybe it’s time to start again.