Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Living Without Logic


When I compliment folks who I know are reading my blog, I do it to credit them with being a huge positive influence on me, and not because I'm sucking up.  Sucking up for what?  I have no agenda, I just wanna give credit where credit is due.  I know that I've been blessed.

My caseworker-turned-BFF was/is a major influence on me, guiding me for years as I worked through my children's trauma issues, allowing my constant wailing phone calls, and her explaining oh so much to me.  I picked her brains for decades, trying to comprehend what I saw all around me.  Childless when we'd first met, later baptized by fire as she adopted two sibling groups from foster care, plus raising a super cute grandchild, as many of us will find ourselves doing at some point.

My mom, of course, with her gardening skills, but also the fact that working hard on anything is second nature to her, holding up under immense stress, she long demonstrated that falling apart under the crippling load is not an option.  Not shopping for fun or recreation, and being non-materialistic before it was cool, she showed me by her own quiet example, how to function with 39 children.

She's way more sociable than I am, yet a also a much quieter human being than I am, at 83 she still can work like a dog, which the two of us find to be a complimentary description.

Two great blog posts this morning to help us all live beneath our means can be found here, Ten Tips To Living Within Your Means, and here, Overcoming Consumerism.

Yesterday I found myself with a big case of the emotional and physical blahs.  I know I need to give myself permission to not do something constantly, to relax a little bit, and not feel guilty about it.  Seriously Cindy?  You don't feel you deserve to rest a minute?  I'm a little too tightly wound, I think.

It wasn't until after supper that I drug myself outside to work, in the backyard area where I'd cleared out an area years ago, but the poison ivy took over as I had so little free time with which to combat the plant coupe.  I painstakingly trimmed, starting at the root area, trying to use hand clippers to trace it up the tree, and yank it down, without touching it in any way, shape, or form, there's a large area to cover, but making progress gives me a small sense of accomplishment contrasting with what little progress I feel I've helped traumatized children make over decades of trying my level best.

It's been so personally frustrating to work 24-7 for so few visible results, but again I'm making it about me, which shouldn't be my goal.

I've said this often - that I hide Facebook status updates from people who cuss, or brag about getting drunk, or who spew negativity.  I just don't need to know, don't need the stress, yet others update me now and again, repeating what they know about my own grown kids.  I have NO control over grown kids, and often it feels as if I've had very little influence on them as well.

Even after all these years, I still get shocked at a blatant lack of morals or character, or at the conscience-less posts, or when inner loathing comes to the surface.  How about some completely innocuous posts?

It makes me wanna puke to hear about them getting spit-faced intoxicated and thinking that's cool. How is that cool?  Being responsible and paying your bills is where it's at, paying attention to your kids and providing stability should be each day's main focus.

Emulating those who abandoned you due to their own partying issues, a euphemism for alcohol consumption and drug-addled thinking, instead of trying to copy this church lady prude who doesn't think you should have kids outside of marriage?  Predictable enough as to be completely expected, yet never completely comprehended.

Considering the cold hard stark fact that some of them lived with me for only a few years, years in which they refused to participate in therapy, or openly rebelled against church and seemingly all aspects of decency - that they are walking and talking might be as little as I can expect at this point.

The trauma did a number on them, this I comprehend.

I just had bigger hopes and dreams for them all (again making it about me).

I just want everyone to find their bliss.  That mine seems to be horticulturally based doesn't make me think that's everyone's answer.  Just find your own source of satisfaction somehow, some peace of mind somewhere.

Before this school year ends, I'll have four more 18 year olds, kids who I think are ill-equipped and emotionally immature.  This is a hard, tough world and I'm struggling to try and equip each kid properly for coping with it all.  It's not the numbers, the amount of kids that I have, rather it's the damage that's been done to them in their formative years that's been so difficult to help them overcome, I'm the one learning that it's a lifelong pursuit.

But also for the rest of us?  Even those of us who were blessed with strong and happy childhoods, life is still quite challenging on a daily basis, and again, how much more so for my little darlings?