I'm not always very forthright with the life I live on these pages. Some things just seem too private or depressing and if I bring you all down with me, there will be a run on Kleenex and Prozac. Nobody will be able to get out of bed. Soon, you'll blame me for your depression and stop visiting. So I don't write about these things often, choosing instead, to try my hand at creativity. This very special place is one I don't have to share with anyone and it is my refuge. Once in a while, I'll get really annoyed and that's when you'll see what is really bothering me put out there for all to see.
Last night's post began with what had originally set me off and ended up something entirely different. My emotions were in free fall. First was the panic I felt in my gut when I thought Rachel was home by herself with just the dog to protect her. That alone, sapped the adrenalin right out of me. Then, there was John McCain spouting off that Sarah Palin knows what it's like to have a child with special needs. Does she now? Where is that child we haven't seen since the convention? Who is caring for that baby? Her? Pfft! She's too busy riling up angry mobs of white men. Then, John went on and on about Sarah knowing about the needs of the growing population of autistic children. Really? On what grounds? Is the fact that she has birthed a child with Down's Syndrome made her an expert in autism? Give me a break. The republican party is hardly the champion of the disadvantaged now, are they? I don't need more lip service, I need help. I've had nearly 19 years of begging for help. Answers would be nice but money for research doesn't grow on trees. What if the answer for my precious child and the disorder that robbed her of her mind, lies in stem cell research? Who will help us then? Republicans? I think not.
These were just the muddy bits that got to me. What flung me over the edge is the caregiver who is once again, helping herself to my stuff. My flat iron was missing. Since I cut my hair short, I hadn't noticed it. When I mentioned out loud that it was missing, the damn thing magically reappeared a day later. Right where I'd left it. Hmm. I didn't overlook this bright turquoise flat iron-it wasn't there and then it was. Everyday, I come home to a puddle of caked on amber gunk sitting in the sink basin. I know what it is. It's the goo I use on my curly hair when it's a bit longer. That goo set me back $20 and someone with long curly hair is using it up. My perfume bottles are running very low too. I don't use that much perfume. Ordinarily, a bottle lasts a very long time. The current favorites of hers seem to be MY bottles of Lovely and Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue. They're running low in record time. It frosts my ass when I come home and smell my perfume or hair spray on her! Today, she opened the seal on a catalogue that came in the mail, addressed to me and read it while I watched. Right in front of me, she opened my mail!!! Isn't there a law against that? I can't stand that. IT'SMINEIT'SMINEIT'SMINE!!!! It's like living in a house full of sisters who know no boundaries. I keep telling myself soon. Soon, I'll move all my "stuff" out of this house and I won't have to share my personal belongings with anyone else. Soon.
That's what set me off. When I started writing it all down though, I started to see the words flow in a different direction: toward the heart of the matter. When I reread what I'd put down, I felt a little panic all over again. I thought about deleting it as one of those posts that are too private to put out there. I'm glad I didn't. I needed to hear words of encouragement. I know that everyone who left a comment is someone I don't really know. Still, your compassion and empathy makes me feel hopeful. I'm glad I didn't delete it and I'm so grateful for your support.
Tomorrow, I promise to lighten it up around Casa de Rudee. I have got to tell you about Mr. Larger Than Life and his fixation with autumn leaves.
Photo: Google Images