A bit hypothetical, but also pretty real. I feel like the other son, who stayed and was good and all. So, ok, yeh, let’s celebrate that PS is back, but then? Is everyone everyday infinitum supposed to continue the party to the continued exclusion of the stayed home son? For me, it’s like, yeh, man glad you’re back, could you help me here, just a little, trying to keep things together? Old JC didn’t finish that parable very well. This is the second time in my life I’ve had to go through a situation like this, not exactly, but yeh, almost exactly. Even weeks and months later, everyone is still lost in this mad celebration, and no one else matters, and I’m the bitch. I’m tired of being on the periphery, a low tiered cast member of PS’s mostly completely phucced up life. “Ve must keep his precious spirits up or else!” Because even when PS is out of the “immediate view”, off being prodigal, s/he is still the MAJOR topic of conversation and concern. And the “homies” are like, yeh, yeh, I just (insert some really good act), but all you can talk about is PS and how disappointed you are that he’s off being prodigal again, blah, blah, blah, times a thousand. Yeh, I’m a little bitter, is it so obvious?! Wow, NOW you notice me. Great, thanx.
See, MY thing is mere serious major clinical depression. No drugs, no alcohol, no bad acts, except when the big D becomes unbearable and the hunt for an effective med is on, I feel like a burden. But I fight back to functionality, and there’s not a peep of encouragement. Everyone is too “embarassed” by my “meltdown”, which really never sounds like the above “parable”, it’s just from complete overwhelm-ment, to ever acknowledge when I’m better. But PS drinks, drugs, steals, gets women pregnant then leaves, is even abusive towards those women, and he gets and keeps a job for a day, and it’s “isn’t it wonderful how he’s gotten his life together”! Meanwhile, I’ve stayed in jobs an average of 5-6 years at a time, paid my bills, again, no drinks, no drugs, no screwing up or around. Still, I’m the bitch. But family, eh? Can’t live without them, or so they tell me. Be nice to PS, he’s having a hard time or he’s (trying to convince us that) making a teensy amount of progress, though we all know next week he’ll likely fall off the wagon or get some other woman pregnant and we’ll have to help financially, and so on.
So, yeh, I’m the bitch. And so was all the above. TY if you read all this. It’s been a very recent, like today, realization that I am again in this familiar familial situation. Now to figure out how to deal with it. Fortunately, I’m taking meds that seem to be keeping me from a meltdown, so now that I realize this, I can get a handle on it instead of just stuffing it down. Again, TY, I just had to get this down, in black and white, and put it out in the ethers.