Not that it really matters, because my visitors widget doesn't work properly half the time anyway. One of my friends says it keeps saying he's in Oklahoma when he's actually in Ohio, and it doesn't register anytime anyone (such as Daisy or anyone else) reads my blog on their smartphone. As an aside, I really wish there was a way I could disable mobile access to my blog.
Ahem.
Anyway. My thoughts continue.
Daisy is excited about the wedding, all things considered. She's planning to book the location this week, if it's still available, and after that we can send out all of those "Save the Date" cards, despite the fact that we haven't yet created them. For some reason she's been talking about those cards for a long time, and is excited about sending them out. I don't know why, really -- don't normal invitations do the same thing, basically? Why send out what amounts to two different invitations?
I don't really get it. I think invitations are a waste of time/money anyhow; the people who we want to be there will be there anyhow. Anyone else isn't really worth sending a card to, other than maybe a thinly-veiled "send us money" announcement after the wedding is over.
Daisy has her entire bridal party ready and assembled, consisting of her best friend, her two sisters, and perhaps one or two others (if necessary). I, on the other hand?
Eh.
I'm really not sure I want to even have a best man or any groomsmen. Seriously. I don't want to involve any more people in the wedding than necessary; it's not about them, it's about me and Daisy. Furthermore, well, I really don't have any friends anymore.
No, I'm being serious when I say that. Most of my friends in this area are women, and if they're men they've already graduated (or will graduate before the wedding) and are/will be no longer in the area. Parker is still around, but I've talked to Parker twice since my own graduation -- who knows where he'll be or what he'll be doing after he graduates himself in December. Nobody else out here will still be around either, save for maybe one or two people who I don't know well enough to ask to be in my wedding, nor would they be people I'd necessarily invite anyway.
The longer this process goes on, the smaller, faster, and more intimate I want it to be. Really, to be honest with you, I just want to get it over with. I hate pomp and circumstance and big productions. I hate that I really don't have any say in most of the guest list. I hate that it has to be a "big wedding" that will cost money. 95% of my family is so apathetic to me and to my upcoming marriage that even if I invited them, they wouldn't come. When I can't get more than three people in my entire extended family to even send me a congratulatory card for getting a Master's degree (when most of them only have high school diplomas, if that), it's fucking depressing. I told Daisy long ago that even if I invited most of my close friends and close family members -- even those who already live out here -- I'd be hard-pressed to get anyone but my parents to show up. And even getting my parents to actually come out here to show that they care about something I'm doing or something that's going on in my life will more than likely be an ordeal in itself anyway.
I swear, when I moved to the midwest it would've been easier for the majority of my family and friends back home in West Virginia to give me a card that said something along the lines of Au revoir! We wish you joy, but good luck getting any of us back here to care about anything you do or accomplish ever again, because we've written you off! At least I wouldn't have to set myself up for continual, constant disappointment. For example: well over a month ago (read: over a year in advance) I sent my brother a message asking him if he and his wife/kids would be able to make it to the wedding, and I gave him the date -- which, of course, hasn't changed. He said he didn't know, and that he'd keep me posted. I never heard back from him about it ever again. My own brother. When I told my parents I was getting married, my mother sent me an email a few days later telling me not to schedule the wedding during certain months of the year, because they were going to be traveling during those times.
Can anyone tell me what's wrong with asking something like that?
Uh, we'll schedule our wedding whenever we want to, thank you -- that's our choice. If you come, you come. If you don't, you don't. That's on you.
In short, it's all a mess, and I made a silent vow to stay out of most of it after every suggestion I had about themes, locations, food, decorations, colors, and even my own fashion choices were each systematically shot down when I made any suggestions about any of them. It was brought to my attention very quickly that I have very little, if any, say in anything involving the wedding, and am simply along for the ride. None of that, of course, sits well with me, but it's not like I have any choice in the matter. I want to marry Daisy, right? Well, this is how it is then.
"I told you you could wear your tuxedo t-shirt for the wedding," she said. "I told you, you can wear whatever you want as long as you take it seriously."
"No, I can't," I said in reply. "You shot down my other ideas."
"Your other ideas were costumes," she said. "Be serious."
I had previously requested that I be able to dress as Han Solo, complete with vest, gun belt, and pants with Corellian bloodstripes on them, which she denied me. I then suggested that I be able to dress as a Browncoat, something else which she denied. Both ideas were proposed in complete, stone-cold seriousness.
"I was serious," I said. "Just because you don't think something is serious doesn't mean I don't."
She was sort of taken aback by this, like she thought I would suggest something of this nature in jest. It was almost as if she'd felt like she'd wounded me, or herself, by denying me something that was important to me.
And, again, to make matters worse, I'll probably have about ten people who will actually show up if invited. Probably less. This is compared to basically all of Daisy's friends and extended family. The thought of that really irritates me -- not that Daisy's friends/family love and support her, and want, to see her get married, some of them coming from Canada, even -- no, that's wonderful, and I'm very happy for her that she has people in her life who genuinely love her unconditionally and who care about her. No, it's the fact that most of the friends and family I myself have, and would care enough to invite, will more than likely not care enough in return to even send back the "not attending" RSVP card, because they can't be bothered to do so -- I'm not important. I'm also willing to bet that several of my friends who have told me they will be at the wedding no matter what will come up with an excuse as to why they can't attend it between now and then. Alas, the wedding is -- very much -- a show for Daisy, not me. I'm just there.
Also keep in mind that -- not to sound like too much of a hypocrite here -- I don't even go to weddings I've been invited to. Not that anyone invites me to any, of course. For example, one of my colleagues in the department got married last year, and I found out about it the week after it took place...when everyone else I knew was there and had been invited, including professors. I was not, obviously. Interestingly enough, I would've actually gone to that wedding had I been invited. I didn't even end up meeting my colleague's wife (who is a very sweet, beautiful girl who suits him perfectly) until the graduation party in May. The last wedding I attended was my aforementioned brother's wedding...easily fifteen years ago, if not longer.
The reason I don't go to weddings is quite simple, actually: I don't like seeing other people happy. Call it selfish, call it shortsighted or mean-spirited, but that's the reason. I've been lonely and/or miserable for most of my adult life, and seeing people happy and ready to start a happy life together, in turn, makes me deeply depressed. It's a horrible way to go about life, of course, but that's just the person I am. It's very hard for me to be happy or congratulatory towards someone else when I almost never feel that way myself.
I also don't like not being a guest of honor or the center of attention if I do attend some sort of social gathering or event -- one of the main reasons I wanted to go to the graduation party was that it was a party thrown for us, the graduates. The other reason was to get incredibly fucking drunk, which I also accomplished to a tee. The only reasons I let my mother hold big party-like gatherings when I come home to visit is because I'm the guest of honor at them, and there's free food/beer. Even then I still hate these gatherings to a certain extent because I'm forced to be social, though it's good that I don't have to worry about being sober or presentable around my own friends and family.
Speaking of those sorts of gatherings, my parents still want to do a reception for us back home, I suppose, after the wedding. I've barely talked to my parents about anything regarding the wedding because I really don't have anything to report to them. My mother keeps asking me about the location reservation and I have nothing to tell her, since that's not even done yet. Who knows when it will be, or if we'll even get the place Daisy and I both want.
As far as I know, Daisy is coming down on Tuesday. She'll be here on the days she's off and then will go back home on Thursday night or Friday morning, depending on when she wants to, as she works on Friday night again. While she's here, of course, we'll try to go to campus (if the chair is back from vacation, of course) so I can get some answers, hopefully, on whether or not I'm going to have a job this fall -- and if I'm not, I can turn my keys back in and pick up my diploma before leaving that university for good, never to return. It will either be a good day or a really bad day with a few good qualities.
In other news, I've been in pain for most of the weekend. Aside from the depression, my allergies have been killing me and I've suffered a low-grade headache all weekend long, not to mention body aches as well. My sleeping problems have been somewhat remedied by the weather, though -- it didn't get out of the 60s all day today and it's been pouring rain, which seriously helps with comfortability issues while sleeping. However, I've also found as of late that simple comfortability is really hard to come by for some reason -- it's like I can no longer get comfortable in bed for longer than, say, an hour or two before my arm/hand/leg falls asleep and goes numb or begins to ache. Positions I once found exceedingly comfortable are now painful, and my sleeping positions are limited anyhow because of my large frame. I can't sleep on my back because it hurts my back and neck, I can't sleep on my stomach for the same reasons, and if I sleep on my side my arm falls asleep or the shoulder gets hyperextended, muscles pull, and/or it falls asleep as well. I have to sleep at an angle, almost, between stomach and side, with a pillow under my body to somewhat prop me up at the stomach/chest level. That's my normal position, and even that is, for some reason, becoming painful and/or uncomfortable. I don't know why.
Maybe I'm just getting old and my bones/muscles are worn out. I've pulled muscles while sleeping before, sometimes pulling them so badly that they didn't completely heal for months. With everything else, it wouldn't surprise me if my body has basically told me it's giving up and that I'll never really get a comfortable night of sleep ever again. I certainly abuse my body enough, what with all the crap food, cigarettes, and coffee I put into it.
It's even harder to sleep when Daisy is here, as well -- since when she is, I not only have to compete with the cats for space, but her also. It's not her fault or anything like that, it's just that I don't sleep much when she's here. I never have.
We talked for a while tonight about my previous post here and about the wedding, as evidenced from the snippet of conversation above -- and she did predictably pull the "you're not a failure" card by saying that all of my life's choices, regardless of what they were, led her to me, and she is incredibly happy and thankful for that, etc. Isn't she a reason enough to get up every day? Etc.
"Not everything is about you," I told her, point-blank. "It's not. That post has nothing to do with you; it's about me. I'm glad you don't see me as a failure. It doesn't change the fact that I see myself as one."
That's the truth, really. That's the rub of it.
She found this difficult to understand, difficult to accept. It's almost as if she doesn't think I can have her, and have our relationship, and still be absolutely miserably unhappy in every other aspect of my life. She doesn't understand how the two things can be, and are, separate from one another. Sorry, but they are. I don't seek Daisy's validation or reassurance on anything; I already know I have it, and I've never taken that for granted -- but having it doesn't change anything else external about my life. As much as I love her and as much as she means to me, having Daisy love me doesn't fix all of my problems. When I write about how much my life sucks, I'm obviously not including her in that. As much as I wish it did, love doesn't fix everything.
Last night, after I went to bed, she sent me a message:
Baby, I just want you to know that I realize you are suffering from depression right now, but, I love you and will always love you. I know my love doesn't make everything better, but, I just want you to know it's there.
She's right: I am suffering from depression right now. Anyone possessing an IQ greater than that of a glass of water should be able to see that, and she's also right that her love doesn't magically make everything better. I have to look at the two situations very separately -- I do love Daisy, very very much. I'm going to marry her. I am very happy with our relationship. But, whether anyone can perceive it that way or not, our relationship is absolutely separate and completely different than the rest of my private and professional life. Our relationship can survive damn near anything, but if I can't convince the rest of the world that hey, I deserve attention, hey, I deserve a job based on my education, experience, and qualifications, I see myself as a failure as a person -- not in my relationship as a fiance and future husband. Separate.
Everyone else in my life, the few people who are left in it, are either blissfully unaware of my current situation and mental state, or they wear rose-colored glasses when they talk to me and refuse to discuss it. I can't remember the last time anyone aside from my parents actually asked me how I was doing and really meant it or wanted an honest answer. Everyone else I know is too wrapped up in themselves or their own lives, or if they're not, they simply don't care about mine. I can't really fault anyone for this. I've retreated into my own shell this summer and have become a hermit since graduation; I've stopped telling people happy birthday on Facebook, even. I've stopped talking to anyone anymore because it just feels like a chore and feels like I have to put on a happy mask to interact with them, and as I'm a brutally honest person in all aspects of my life, I don't want to lie and say that everything's fine. Even more frustrating or depressing to me are all of my friends who have graduated in recent months or years and have immediately been able to land a fulfilling, high-paying and stable job doing something they love, and have thus been able to move on with their lives and marriages and children happily.
And here I am, stuck in Kansas, rapidly running out of money despite all attempts to save myself from a fate of bankruptcy, homelessness, and default on student loans, going fucking nowhere. And, really, nobody cares -- nor should I really expect anyone to. Each day that nobody cares, I get a little more angry at the world and a little more angry at society. Each rejection I get for positions I applied for, positions that would save me from being homeless in a few months, I get even more angry. Each time I have to go shopping for commodities like toilet paper or coffee and find that the prices have risen on those items while my bank account has not -- because I'm waiting on someone, anyone, any company, business, or avenue of higher education to recognize my worth -- I get even angrier.
I dread Daisy's visit this week because she's not going to find the man she loves when she arrives; she's going to find a shell of the man she fell in love with, a man who is broken and beaten down and has nothing left. A man who has lost hope that he'll ever make something worthwhile of himself, a man whose dreams are forgotten and dead. I love her, but I don't know what to tell her. I don't have any answers for her, or anyone else for that matter.
No comments:
Post a Comment