I had this dream, a long time ago, it feels like an age though chronologically it was a decade. Now, I could be happy with so much less, but even that meager provision remains a fantasy. This is why I lack faith, I am told of a God who can move mountains, but he thus far has not moved me to a place of safety and comfort.
The wife and I had a really good chat today about precisely what we want; simple, but it remains out of reach.
It leaves my heart heavy, that I wonder if my parents death is what I have waited on so well. They are my parents, and I love them, but when will there be time for me to love myself, my wife, and perhaps children?
Ah, dreams and nonsense, these are the substance of my thoughts, my meager hopes and fantasies. I want to be necessary so bad, it pains me so to be futile, pointless, useless. Yet better useless than abused, better futile than put to evil purpose, and better useless than of use to cruel and horrible people. Small blessings, but one must take them when they appear. Pleasure is so fleeting. Even my stupid video games are of use if they lighten my load, relieve my pains.
2 comments
Do you mean a lot of resources go into caring for your parents?
That’s part of it, they have made money decisions their entire life that still don’t make sense to me. Our family used to be finance dental school entirely rich, now we’re in debt for all of my generation’s members, who still haven’t managed to make being effective pay.
That’s not even getting it into how my parent’s generation gambled away their money on experiences, leaving little to help the people still here. It irritates me most of all; I have enough equity/value of assets that I could cash out and take life way easier, my parents could retire, because the wife and I want children, but childcare is awful, in so many ways.
We could be okay, not fantastic but okay. I guess it’s that I lack faith is part of the problem. For my entire life I’ve watched people outside of my immediate family become crueler and crueler, and more insecure. If my parents weren’t so wrapped up with working into their 70s, they could have near unlimited grandparent time. Most people would appreciate such an offer, but not my folks.
It’s been hard for me to describe, because I worked with people with severe poverty on top of problems that dealing with would make me unable to leave bed for the sorrow. That shouldn’t invalidate my pain, but it definitely makes it harder to talk about it. My therapist has been MIA since the beginning of the year. Slowly, but certainly I am being pulled towards abandoning the species outside of immediate family.
If I am deserving of love, I should be given some input into where my life is going. Not just “regular milk or almond milk” input into the directions of coffee, but instead; “which obscure recipe will I get to try next?”
It hurts most that my life would in certain ways get much better if they were gone, but that feeling seems so evil.