The Noble Pundit

I Don't Want To Grow Up

Lots of personal emotionally type stuff ahead. Probably sounds like whining, but it's really just venting.

I'm starting to understand why some people get so screwed up mentally.........

Sometimes it really sucks to be an adult.

It seems like every time I start to get things headed in the right direction again I get visited by the demons of unreal stress and freak events. To a point it makes me wonder if this is the life I'm supposed to be getting together or if I'm supposed to be heading off in a new direction.

The last couple of weeks, since I got back from San Francisco, have been a living hell for me. It seems like, with the exception of my father, everyone in my life is putting the onus of everything on me. If anything goes wrong (like my boss forgetting to pay the phone bill), I get blamed (would have been nice if I had screwed it up before I got blamed). Anything I get done isn't quite good enough to be fully acceptable. With some things, I'm told simultaneously that I'm doing too much and not enough. Everyone says that they "appreciate" me, yet they are constantly jumping down my throat, trying to pick fights, and getting ticked off at me - because they have stress in their lives (I guess they all figure I have a nice stress free life).

Now I'm not trying to whine. Most of my life I've dealt with higher levels of stress than most people. When I worked for the airlines, I used to be responsible for the lives of up to 325 people - if I screwed something up, the pilot may not have been able to save it. I worked as a stockbroker, both full commission and salary, in a crashing market. The current stress far and away exceeds anything I have ever dealt with in my life.

Then tonight, as the topper, the dog decided to kill one of the baby kittens. One bite just ripped through the baby kitten and it basically bled to death extremely quickly. And again, as the Daddy-In-Fact, I ended up being the gravedigger and mortician. I have an ability to segregate my feelings most of the time and usually can only show what I want people to see. So everyone seems to assume that I don't hurt when this kind of stuff happens.

I do hurt. Very deeply.

It kills me to have to pick up the remains of this baby kitty and bury it. It's a very deep sinking feeling - a sense of loss as to what could have been (even knowing that we were going give it away in a week or so).

And then the talks about having to put the dog down - how I hate that. I don't want to do anything like that. I know that it's probably going to happen soon, it just kills me that I might have to be part of that decision making process.

But taking it to the humane society and giving it up isn't much easier. The thought of having to look at his face one last time as I walk away, it's an emotional pain that makes me want to cry. It's like walking away from a friend, with no explanation. It just doesn't seem right.

But we also can't keep it with the kids after an attack like that. No matter how bad the pain is, the safety of the kids is more important. I'll deal with nightmares (and I will have them - I already know how my mind works) if that's what's needed to keep them safe.

I hope tomorrow is at least a wee bit better.