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I Should�ve Taken That Left Turn at Albuquerque |
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Hello and welcome. If you're new here, be a dear and Read my Disclaimer. My diary not good enough for you? Fine, be that way. Try these instead: plf
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2000-10-18 - 9:03 pm� I really like the woman that I've been working closest with this week. I liked her before this, but now that I've had more of a chance to talk one on one with her I like her even more. She's so friendly and down to earth, and she is one of those people who is incredibly easy to talk to-- she seems genuinely interested in what people say to her. This afternoon she mentioned to me that she saw me with a young man at lunch time. It was my brother. He was waiting in the lobby of the office for me at noon, hoping for a free lunch. I happily took him to lunch, because I love spending time with my brother, even when he is mooching food off of me. He's honestly one of my best friends. So anyway, this spawned a conversation about our families. It was a comfortable and easy discussion, so much so that without even noticing I got on the verge of bringing up the more unpleasant things about my family life. The poverty, the drunken worthless father, the... unpleasantness behind my decision(?) to return to Barrie. I got so close to getting into it all with her, but I stopped myself. It's not that I have trouble talking about the unplesantness. I'm not afraid I'll burst into tears or anything like that. I'm not concerned that anyone will think less of me. I don't mind that people want to base their opinions of me on the shitty stuff in my past, or the social status of me and my family. I'm such a hypocrite. I say I don't care what people think of me. And I don't care, about most things. I don't care if people think I'm cold or snobby or whatever for not opening up. I don't care if people look down on me because some of the details of my personal life sound like scenes from white trash theatre. But I do care about one thing. I hate it, really and truly loathe it when people pity me. When everything with my father went spiralling into the ground a year and a half ago a lot of people pussyfooted around me. They didn't know what to say to me anymore, and a lot of them did come right out and say they felt sorry for me. Who wouldn't? My last months of university, my father in alcohol rehab, and the process server knocking on the door informing me I have a week before I'm out on the streets. And then, as I'm madly packing my meagre belongings to prepare for losing my home and having to move up here with my mother, my grandfather is dying. It's definitely a pity-worthy scenario. That made me feel almost worse than I did about my father screwing over my life at the worst possible time. Knowing that I've inspired people's pity is about the worst feeling I know. For lack of anything more eloquent to say, it sucks big time. There's also the concern that if I tell anyone about the sadder details of my life, they'll want to talk to me about it often. When I do end up opening up and telling people personal things I usually want to say it once and then never speak of it again. Like a grand confession, with no followup ever. The last time I opened up to a coworker about the family life I got the pity response. And for two months she made comments during everyday conversation like "Oh you poor girl. I can't imagine having to be responsible for helping your family at your age." And she'd periodically ask, her eyes shining with concern, "Have you heard anything from your father lately?" So I stopped myself today. And I don't know why I keep dwelling on it. Maybe it's because I really wanted to open up to this women, really wanted her to get to know me. She told me some things from her life that weren't the most pleasant, and I think I almost envy her ease at sharing those sorts of things.
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The big 3 0 - 2006-06-03 Hello again - 2006-05-03 Random stuff in place of an actual update - 2006-03-15 Pictures. Just Because. - 2006-02-23 Christmas 05 - 2005-12-26 Currently listening to: |
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