Stream Of Consciousness 06/26

So really all I’m thinking about is the fact that I have to finish my Accounting degree to stand a chance at getting a job that pays any amount of money. Living here in Colorado Springs, named 6th best city to live in by Kiplingers, it’s interesting. Apparently, you can only get a job if you’re fresh out of high school or have a PhD. Well, MBA is also acceptable for entry-level stuff. So great, I’m back in school. And I’m in the middle of wrapping up an incomplete from one of the undergrad accounting courses I took. Because in the last few weeks of class, including the last week of my grad-level finance class, I was ill. Specifically, dunno. Mental, physical, emotional, just ill, okay? So what does that mean? Does it mean I should just chuck it all and apply for disability, because I have no hope of actually holding down a job, what with me getting ill all the time? When I started at my last job, my PKD hadn’t advanced all that much. Really, aside from some cysts on my kidneys and hypertension, I was in great shape. I could work 50 hour weeks. Now I get exhausted going to the store. I walked around Home Depot today, trying to make some sense of the place, picking up a few things to make my house more secure, and I felt like I needed a nap when I got home!

But I’m not even 40 yet, and I’ve got some time left. Even taking into account the history on my mother’s side, I’ve got some time. Both my mother and her mother were ill, both were dead before they were 65. Both were basically incapacitated by their mid-50s. So, based on that, I have about 12-15 productive years left, and probably 25 years total. But disability doesn’t pay much. I’ll be eating tuna sandwiches twice a day, every day, because that’s all I’d be able to afford. And I’ll become a hermit! I don’t talk to people unless I have to, or they call me. Except Sheila, and even she usually does the calling. Unless it’s been a couple days, then I get concerned and call her. Or could I work part-time doing bookkeeping or accounting stuff, to pay my bills? I suppose I get that from my father. Our longest phone conversation in the past 2 years was probably 3 minutes. Actually, that’s probably about the longest our face-to-face conversations have been. Just not interested, I guess.

See, and that’s something else. I’m going home for the weekend soon, and I’m looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time. The only person who’s actually asked anything about me is my stepmother. No one else seems particularly interested. Well, there was a great conversation over my birthday with a couple of my sisters, that was cool, but really, that was nearly a year since our last conversation. I suppose one of the reasons I don’t want to move back is because I feel like here, I can pretend someone actually misses me. Whether or not it’s an accurate assessment, that’s how it feels to me. Doesn’t really matter, though, it is what it is. Feels like they consider me nothing but a fat, lazy failure barely able to take care of herself and not really worth the effort. Yeah, I know, I’m projecting. I’m trying to put it in perspective, although I’m sure I’m way off and they’ll probably take offense at anything I say. Whatever. The fact remains that they really don’t know much about me and don’t seem particularly interested in trying. My father remains the only one to come visit me, and then it was only because I was going to have major surgery. He didn’t stay long, and we only had one day where I could actually spend time with him doing more than just lying there, but oh well. He came, and I was glad. As for the rest, it’s an expensive trip, and I don’t exactly have the space to put someone up for an extended period of time. My mother would have visited, but that just wasn’t really possible in her condition. My stepmother isn’t a huge fan of traveling. Not everyone is. So I don’t expect to see her out here any time soon. I really don’t expect to see anyone out here any time soon. My fault for leaving, so my responsibility to travel, I guess.

I shouldn’t be surprised I never had that many friends to begin with. People I knew, sure, but not friends. I have more close friends here, now, than I ever did at any one time back home. I can count four people that I’d trust with my life. Four people who know something about me, who I’ve learned something about. I never had that before. Of course, I didn’t really think much of myself until I moved here, so I’m sure that’s a factor. Best thing I could do for myself, really, moving out here. I got to know my mother’s side of the family. Totally messed up. But, I fit there. And they have visited. Sure, it’s easier for one of them, she lives in Denver, so it’s really not a fair comparison, but we’ve hung out. Actually, and I never thought I’d say things, I’m looking forward to my next trip to Tulsa. Seriously. Yikes.

So anyway, having a hard time finding the motivation. What’s the point? No matter what I do, it won’t change what they think of me, or even if they think of me. I expect to have one guest at my graduation, my friend Sheila. No, that’s not fair, I can think of several. None related by blood, though. That’s only slightly less than was at my college graduation. Yeah, that hurt. No point complaining, though, won’t change anything and everyone will just add “whiner” to my description. Assuming they even gave it a thought. Which I doubt.

Yeah, I’m probably the only one who thinks all this. There’s probably something I should have done differently, changed my personality somehow to be more like the rest of them, so I could fit in, so they’d actually talk to me. Actually, I tried that for a lot of years, and it just backfired in a big way. So instead, I move away and think about my family, and wish I could have a better relationship with them.

Gee, wonder what’s been on my mind for the past couple of weeks…