Odd People

I've been getting the odd comment every now and then. Probably spam. I know this really isn't worth reading, but it's nice to think that someone reads this. Of course, they probably think, "Wow! This chick really needs help! Mentally, that is." I'll take that.

I did finally hear from my son. I might already have gone through it here, but I don't remember so I'll do it again. My ex is also on Facebook (NO, I have NOT friended him), and bless his little obsessive heart got a coworker to get Jimmy to contact us. Turns out he'd been kind of depressed. (Gee, I wonder where he got that?!) I told him that I needed to hear from him, even if he had nothing to say, even if it's just dumping on me, whatever. I told him, (from experience) he needed to get those feelings out, to me, to a blog, a journal, whatever, just don't let them sit and fester. I think I got through to him. I think.

I got me an iPad2 with my tax refund. I'm happy. Well, yes and no. I'm happy and sad at the same time. I'm happier than I've been in over a decade. But I still have that little bit a sadness, like a shadow behind me. Sometimes I wonder, Fringe-like, what the other Pattyes in the other universes are like. Maybe they got into a different class in third grade. Maybe they didn't, but wasn't destroyed by it, maybe it made them stronger. Maybe it was worse. Maybe I didn't survive my childhood. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I want to travel, but I don't have the money. I'm practically a hoarder. I suck at housecleaning. I just get so worn down.

I just wish I mattered. I wish...

I guess it doesn't matter.

Two Months

I know, I know, I know, he's a grown man. He has his own life. Talking to me is pretty far down on his radar. But... I just want to hear from him. He can yell and scream at me. I know I screwed up his life by standing by and letting the Hubby bully him. Sigh. Two months.

How much longer?

Dear Jimmy,

This is the email I would have been writing you. I haven't heard from you since December 22. Yes, it's driving me out of my mind. But I am determined to let you live your own life. Be your own man. A man who should CALL HIS MOTHER ONCE IN AWHILE!! Even if he has nothing to say. So I'm writing here instead.

Nothing's really happening here. Randy buys whatever crap he wants, I hold myself back so we don't just spend ourselves into oblivion. I get to be the adult. I'm tired. I want a life of my own, but I guess I'm too afraid to go after it.

The Year of Being Happy?

I haven't heard from my son in three weeks. I guess that's not a big deal. But one of the days was Christmas. I guess I royally messed up his life. I should have told Randy and Sandy to knock it off, but I was too timid. It's only been three weeks, though. I, in all probability, am making way too much out of it.

I wanted to save the money. Now one or two guitars, some gun stuff later and I'm already down a thousand dollars. I know Randy would tell me I could buy whatever I wanted, and that would be true. But someone has to be the adult. Someone has to put the brakes on their spending. I wish it didn't always have to be me, but there you go.

I wish I had someone to talk to. I guess that's why I still have this. It's not big, or witty, or important, or well traveled, but it's important to me. It gives me that place I can dump all my worries, troubles, what-have-you, without hurting people, without looked down upon.

I still wish my son would send me an email. If just to say, "Kiss my ass".