Left this comment on this video :
Story 3 : Cards on the table : I am the youngest of four whose life was ruined when his parents decided to stop paying for my college so they could take early retirement. I couldn’t even get a student loan because my parents could afford to keep paying for my education but chose not to. So you know what? You’re the asshole. YTA all the way,. Youngest children are just as important and valuable as the eldest and should be treated the same and if that means reining in your selfishness for a little longer, so be it. There is no point at which you have sacrificed “enough” for your kids. Parenthood is not a loan you can pay off and be done with. You do right by your kids until they don’t need you any more, period. Anything less means you are a terrible parent who considers some of your kids to be disposable.
Clearly that thread struck a nerve with lil ol me. I could relate to the youngest girl’s plight all too well. Hell, her parents were even pulling the rug out after two years!
And I love how the parents talk about all they have done for their kids then turn around and act like it’s the most outrageous demand possible for their kid to expect them to delay their RV dreams for a couple of years.
But that would mean actual sacrifice as opposed to just doing what we would have done anyway but with kids in the house. It would mean actually putting their needs ahead of my desires in a way that really means something to me.
For heaven’s sake, it would even mean delaying the plans we made without once giving a single thought as to their effects on what’s her name? That girl I always see around here for some reason?
She says she’s our daughter and she’s technically right, but not REALLY.
This is why us youngest of four types can be pretty loud and mouthy. It’s like being a small yappy dog : if we don’t keep reminding people we exist, we get stepped on or sat on or forgotten completely.
When I was a kid. I kept being left behind places. Gas stations, picnic areas, and so on.
Like, how hard is it to remember you have FOUR children? And do headcounts?
And every expense related to raising me was considered “extra”. Like a sudden bill for fixing the washing machine. And you know why?
Because I wasn’t even in the budget. They knew I was there but they preferred to pretend that somehow, I would not costs any money to raise because I would be fine with whatever I got and they wouldn’t even have to add me to the grocery bill.
They bristled at the very thought of spending money specifically on me. When I needed a new winter coat and boots, my father acted like I was stealing from his wallet.
I was not supposed to exist and they let me know it on every level.
Even my mother, with the best of intentions, telling me that she was glad she had me when I was already in my thirties confirmed this.
Oh sure, you’re glad you had me now, when it isn’t costing you anything.
But back then I was, at best, an afterthought, and most of the time, I was an “added” burden unlike my three siblings.
No wonder I have such low self esteem despite all my talents and abilities.
I was never even supposed to exist.
More after the break.
Well this was pretty darn cute.
The pre-burn stage
I’ve been having these little moments of despair lately.
Brief but very unnerving moments when it feels like all the energy and will goes out of me and it feels like the flame of my life force has gone out and I feel cold and scared and extremely isolated and I can’t even begin to remember why I do things.
So far they have been brief and I dearly hope they stay that way because if my depression got worse and I stayed in that state for more than a moment, I would definitely be tempted to harm myself if only to be able to feel something.
Or even to feel nothing. Ever again.
Dunno what brought this on. Lack of decent sleep, possibly. It’s been weeks, possibly even months since I slept more than 2.5 hours in a row.
And that’s enough to let me get by but not enough to keep this crazy brain of mine healthy. I get way too little of the really important deep REM sleep that restores and reboots the brain so it can be all fresh and ready when I wake up.
And patient readers know that I have plenty of sleeping pills but I am afraid to use them because I am scared they will kick off a period of very intense deep REM sleep which will beat the crap out of me physically as my sleep apnea goes berserk and my bouily resources get burned through like I was having sacred visions.
I’ve always felt a kinship with seers. And peers.
So like I said recently, the first thing the sleeping pills bring is tortuously deep sleep punctuated by period of abjectly miserable consciousness where I am in a lot of pain and feel beaten and starved of oxygen and I can’t think at all.
I can’t stand not being able to think clearly. Thinking is how I deal with the world. When it goes out the window I am left with nothing I trust.
I am not well suited to acting on instinct.
So i don’t know how I would go about fixing my sleep deficit. Holistically, I suppose. No drugs, just doing self-care to get my body and my head as relaxed and ready for sleep as I can and let nature do the rest.
I wish I could afford massage therapy. Like, a lot of it. I have so much tension stored in my body and my stretches and such barely get me to “a manageable level of agony”.
Either that, or I need to convince a doctor to prescribe me a muscle relaxant.
Not as sexy as being massage manfully by a muscly masseur, but perhaps as effective.
Honestly, I just want to sleep. Truly sleep.
But instead, all I can do is nap.
And it’s not enough.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow,.