I was going to start a new thread, but what the hey, this is as good a place to post what I want to say as any.

My sister calls last weekend and says, "Do you have any plans for Labor Day?" "No," I say. "Good," she says. "Pam and Mom and I are coming to see you."

Um. Okaaaayyy. Mom abused the hell out of me in multiple ways, and I don't really like spending time around her. I can barely even talk to her on the phone, much less spend time with her in person. I mention this to Vicki (sister making plans). Vicki says, "I know you have problems with Mom. Get over it." (She doesn't know of the abuse, being much older and having been out of the house when it happened.)

Pam resents me for being born, so she's not a barrel of laughs to be around either. Vicki is the only one I reasonably get along with.

So, they invite themselves here, and since it's my city and I'm the one with the car, I now have to think of things for 4 people to do for 3 days. Naturally, everything I set up falls through, for one reason or another.

I can't live on what I make from my job. I had a second job, but I lost it, and I am dead broke most of the time. For instance, I don't get paid till the 15th, and I have $16 to my name and 1/4 tank of gas. I go to food pantries now because I can't afford my own groceries. It's bad.

I thought, after chauffeuring them around and catering to their every need, I deserved a little help. I asked my mom for gas money. She gave me....TWO BUCKS. Gas here is $1.89. Oh boy, a whole gallon! Thanks!

I have lost 15 pounds in 6 weeks because I'm not eating, but no one takes me out to dinner or offers to take me to the grocery store. They do, however, expect me to supply them with alcohol and other goodies.

Yeah, I know: I need to tell them to go rot (although I wouldn't be that kind about it). But I was hoping once they saw the dire straits I'm in that they would, you know, HELP OUT. Like a family.

Well, god forbid I have one of THOSE. At least not one that bails out sinking members. Vicki buzzed in here at 10:30 Saturday morning, ahead of everyone else, did my dishes, pitched the last 2 remaining pieces of my pots and pans because she didn't think they were salvageable, and didn't get around to buying any more. So now I have nothing to cook in. I don't get paid till the 15th. It's all gone already as well.

This is depressing because underneath the cynicism, I have what my therapist calls my "closet optimist." Every time I get handed a box of crap, I start looking for the pony. And the pony is never there, and won't ever be there, and I am SO pissed off at myself. And if I keep thinking about the way things are, as opposed to the way they OUGHT to be, I get depressed as hell.

I am not the world's most social person -- most depressives aren't -- and after 2 or 3 hours, even if I'm enjoying myself, I have a deep need to get the hell out of there and back to my own space. In the last 2.5 days, I have had a grand total of 1.5 hours to myself (that weren't spent sleeping). I may not recover from this for a month. The good news is, I'm too exhausted to cut!

</rant> thanks for listening.

Candy

Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal. -- Albert Camus