Miscellaneous · 9:10pm Nov 5th, 2020
Blog Number 112: Whatever Edition
I'm noticing more and more that my mood has been fluctuating daily. A terribly low day followed by an enjoyably calming day, for example.
Unimpressed. Is this any way to live, with your emotions playing roulette with your precious time? There's absolutely no good reason for any of these stupid inconsistencies. It's maddening.
Happens even within a day, now. And like I said, for no good reason.
Fair warning ahead of time: I'm going to kvetch for this whole subsection (subsection, mind: this post isn't all that). I'd rather not kvetch on a website for a writing hobby, but then I'd rather have better days to begin with. If you don't like kvetching, then I recommend you skip to the subsection after this one, wherein and thereafter I have more neutral and writing-related topics to discuss. But goddamnit, all it took was five minutes to ruin my entire day, and I am not happy about feeling like I'll be spending all evening cleaning up another emotional mess I'd wanted to avoid.
OK? You've been warned ahead of time.
To put this in context: I was mostly enjoying today. True, it's been mild, not one of the greats, and even though it was a bit slow (too much time spent online), my spirits were largely upbeat.
True also: I have some maintenance issues I need to address (more on that later), but nothing urgent, and I've tolerably managed to work around it. At worst, it's a titchy little inconvenience to me.
So, after a mostly enjoyable day, my dad decided he needed to come into my room (after sundown) to check some electronics. You know, not during the day when it would make more sense. And unfortunately in the middle of my tolerable workaround, wherein I had to admit my main light doesn't work.
See, last time the main light didn't work, there was a fuse problem, so I've half-assumed it was that same problem again this time and waited for a chance to get a replacement lamp or just possibly find time/inclination to fix it, or try to. In fact, I did have a lamp for a while as a simple solution, until I got unlucky and accidentally broke it.
So anyway, today: not even a month after the last invasion of my personal space (which prompted a couple of blog posts I'm still trying to wash out of my memory) - except this time, Dad does it while I'm still there and barely after he's asked me if he can come in - and then this no-light discovery happens.
Now, I'll admit it's a bit silly. In the end, we used a torch (flashlight for you Americans), so whatever quick check he needed to do was done. Seems to me there are plenty of ways our conversation - such as it was - could go from there, many of them perfectly civil responses.
It's not like I'm asking him to say I was smart to work tolerably around a busted light. I can see the sense in fixing it. If I could plan a day for it, I'd do so, busted fuse or not. Heck, I didn't ask him anything. I barely said anything other than a confused and off-guard "OK?" when he asked if he could come in.
I hate his temper. I really do.
And now the day feels ruined, because a day when Dad doesn't take hostile potshots at me is a day wasted, apparently.
Funny how genially and casually you adapt around something, are perfectly capable of seeing the logic of addressing it (eventually: I said I'd adapted around it), and then someone just has to come along and suddenly angrily loudly tell you you're "an idiot" who "doesn't deserve to live in a nice house". This isn't a muttered grumble. This is full-on shouting. And no, I won't get an apology later. I never do.
Do I sound like I'm overreacting? Then consider this: this is at least 50% of the conversation I've had with him today, outside of generic "Hello" and "You all right?" greetings. Yesterday, our thrilling social interaction involved him criticizing my cooking. Again. Oh, and the usual daily mind-numbing tedium about my weight, my amount of exercise, and my eating habits. Can I have one day when I don't hear a boringly predictable nagging topic play on a loop off a broken record?
Remember: I have to live with this guy. There are whole days when I only go downstairs because I know he's out, or because he's currently in a room I don't want to use. When I go to eat my dinners separately from everyone else, I don't stick around if I can help it.
And frankly, by this point, I don't care how that sounds to someone else: this isn't about sloppy maintenance or my own lazy solutions to straightforward problems. This is a straight-up loveless family towards me, and I want out. It's been over a decade at best since anyone said they were proud of me, or liked me, or took the slightest interest in anything I did without turning it into something to poke me for later on. I heard it from their mouths last year: Dad said if I wasn't a blood relative, he'd have thrown me into the street long ago.
The worst part? I wasn't even shocked. Mildly surprised he'd actually say it, but after years of that empty treatment, I half-suspected anyway.
I am mighty sick of the fact that the only good conversation with my dad is swapping bland "Hello's" for a few seconds every morning. I am especially sick of how easily that is dwarfed by the bad conversation, the nagging, the incessant little sapping of my sanity piece by piece. God, if I could just kick that upsetting nonsense out of my life, most everything else would be easier to enjoy, or at least tolerate.
I'm trying not to swear, but only with the greatest difficulty. Over and over and over and over again. And even when I get used to that, eventually something new comes along and knocks me off guard, and that makes it all feel worse and means I have to do a lot of mental work just to feel stable and normal again. It seems to be getting harder to enjoy stuff I usually loved doing. That's what irks me so much.
Actually, stuff it: I'm going to swear once.
I really fucking hate this life.
Kvetching over. Thank God. Now I've finally gotten that off my chest for the moment, let's just talk about more neutral and agreeable writing stuff... well, relatively speaking.
At least I'll have plenty of time to write. Another lockdown has been announced for the UK. Meaning I could be told to not go into work again for the rest of November. A bit of a beggar, but there you go.
Although that said, it otherwise barely affects my day-to-day existence, since I've been hewing close to lockdown behaviours all this time. For instance, and excluding work travel, I restrict my outdoor excursions to either essential grocery shopping or short walks. Even during that time when the lockdown was eased, I've been playing it safe. For example, I get through a lot of handwash.
Also, as I've been pessimistically predicting a second wave of infections for the last few months, I feel morbidly vindicated by this recent turn of events. "Morbidly" because it's one of those pessimistic predictions I'd prefer to see proven wrong.
I was going to say I'd ignore NaPoWriMo (National Pony Writing Month) this year, but the event doesn't seem to be happening anyway, so that'd be a moot point.
I'm also not taking part in this year's Jinglemas. Quite apart from the lack of conviction I feel towards the idea of me doing it in my current mood, I'd be too picky vis-a-vis canon, character selection, and genre limits to be much of a fun participant anyway.
Honestly, overall it'll be a long time before I feel up for anything remotely competitive or collaborative.
Writing-wise, that's about the long and the short of it for now. It'd be incorrect to say I don't have writing plans. I have several writing plans, just no clear idea how to proceed. Which in some ways is far less helpful. I just don't know how to do little writing projects, for instance, to get my confidence up.
So until then, a lot of random effort in the hopes something useful falls out. Watch this space.
As far as this site is concerned, I was going to try just cruising on silent for a while, you know, get my daily routine smoothed out and feeling secure again before trying something more interesting (like a big story, or a more insightful blog post or even an experimental blog series).
Unfortunately, my mood's been irritatingly see-saw, no thanks to stupid stuff like I kvetched about earlier. God, I only need a tweak or two to have a nigh-perfect easy-going life. Is that too much to ask?
So... undecided, as of yet.
Until I feel better, Impossible Numbers out.
Incidentally, I was going to title this "Miscellany", but then I looked up what the word meant on Wikipedia:
A miscellany is a collection of various pieces of writing by different authors. Meaning a mixture, medley, or assortment, a miscellany can include pieces on many subjects and in a variety of different forms.[1] In contrast to anthologies, whose aim is to give a selective and canonical view of literature, miscellanies were produced for the entertainment of a contemporary audience and so instead emphasise collectiveness and popularity.
So wanting not to contribute to another sharp word's unfortunate blunting, I went for the more easily recognized and less specific derived adjective "miscellaneous".
Haha. I will not apologize for being a pedant, but I will at least plead guilty as charged.
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Believe me: as soon as I have the financial support needed, I'll be out of this house like a shot. Even removing the current and difficult lockdown conditions as a factor, I'm unfortunately in for the long haul.
My relief is that, for long periods of time, I really am left to my own devices. It's still not ideal, but I can at least learn patience and pragmatism in the meantime, and to take full advantage of the opportunities I'm dealt.
Thank you, and I most certainly will. See a chance (for enjoyment) and take it: that's the adaptable approach. When I'm angry, I remind myself this shall pass and I can get back to more positive times soon enough.
In fact, for the last hour or so, I've been composing a blog post much more relaxing and engaging than this one, as a deliberate counter to keep myself striving for positivity. Just talking about something I love is soothing... and a good thing in and of itself, of course!
Thank you again for the supportive message. It honestly made my day.
"Do I sound like I'm overreacting?"
Nope.
I just want to say. I go thru the same thing. Okay not as extreme but kinda the same. I just remind my self, if they dont love me i dont care. Because as long as i am alive, there is someone who loves you. And if you cant think of any who do love you, just know i do. Not because your stories are amazing (which they are) but because you are a living thing. Who is no less worthy of love than they are.
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Well, I don't know that we need to go that far. The situation is unpleasant, yes, but if I take a step back, overall I've luckily got more blessings than curses. I'm sorry to hear you're experiencing similar issues. I'd rather think other people were having a better time of it than I am.
Mm, we are acquaintances on the Internet. I don't know that I'd use the word "love" myself. Sense of proportion is generally a wise thing in these circumstances.
But I do appreciate the sympathetic sentiment, in all honesty. (And the comment about my stories, of course, though I like to think of it as professional satisfaction than anything so coarse as vanity).
Thanks for the comment. My quibbling aside, I do appreciate the thoughtfulness of it and was pleased to receive it. Thanks, thanks, and thanks again.
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Oh, I have no problem reading something like that all in one go, but then I'm always somewhat inclined towards the self-indulgent. It has the comfort of familiarity, and it's just nice to revisit old favourites (they tend to be favourites for a reason, after all). On top of that, the ridiculousness is part of the charm for me: like I said elsewhere, I think I have some Discord DNA somewhere in my makeup, because I love a bit of laughable chaos here and there.
That's fine: I'm not asking anyone to share the giddy heights of my enthusiasm. I just wanted to post something more cheerful as a tonic.