My week has been blah, so what should I blog about? Nothing new except that I keep getting up and going to work, reading books, going for my run...and it feels like I'm just going through the motions of life. Wait, I guess I am! Is that really all there is for now? Should I be content with the fact that I'm functional most of the time? Certain things set me off, like when I saw my husband's van driving down the street toward me as I was coming home from work. The very nice guy who bought it lives on Fox Island, but has family and work here, so of course I'm going to see it around. But it doesn't mean that it'll be easy at first. My nephew and his wife(I contacted them) came over to figure out if they wanted any of his *stuff." I'd like "brownie points" for being the bigger person since they are toxic BIL's kid, but have mostly been quietly supportive! It would sure be nice if my husband's "family" would treat HIS children as kindly. I'm finding out that Alison's tears at her dad's service didn't really relate to him; they were in response to this:
Do you see the look of pain on her face? She had asked Patt's sister, "What happened?" and the response was some BS like(excuse my language, it could be worse), "I don't know. Mike(toxic brother) and I loved your dad." REALLY? Then why didn't you show it? He certainly didn't feel loved; he felt criticized, diminished, unsupported and used. That's why we separated ourselves from these relatives, but I'm sure they have their own version of "reality" and are sticking to it. And of course they know why there's an issue, although we don't; they're the ones who haven't contacted any of us for over two months. Geeze.
Much as I adore my photographer nephew, this photo I did NOT want to see. Toxic brother Mike is to the left, looking somber. He really should feel guilty for the junior high drama he subjected my husband to, as well as the $14,000 bill to "help" him out when Patt couldn't finish a job since he was dying of cancer. (long, ugly story) But I'm certain that he thinks he did everything right, and we did everything wrong. P.S. I intend to have nothing more to do with him, EVER. I'm thankful to Ashley for making me laugh with this doctored photo:
Don't you just love "Uncle Stalin?" :) Yes, I still have a sense of humor and am really not as bitter as this post suggests. I just wish that I could commiserate/laugh about these things with my husband who was realistic about his own family and their limitations, but would have probably told me just to let it go and move on. He was better at that than I am though.*sigh*
It's so tough to always be the bigger, better person.
Posted by: ms_teacher | February 26, 2013 at 11:06 PM
People have very, very different versions of reality. In their story, they are the victims, I'm sure. Some people seem to have realities that are further apart from the consensus than others...
Posted by: Michelle | February 27, 2013 at 06:38 AM
From one's own perspective, one is never wrong. I pretty much figure Stalin thought he was in the right.
Posted by: Zazzy | February 27, 2013 at 06:56 AM
Zazzy has explained it perfectly. Tear up the photos that cause you distress and burn them in a controlled little fire. Then flush the ashes down the toilet. You'll feel much better about things. Really. It works.
Posted by: Ally Bean | February 27, 2013 at 07:24 AM
Yup, time to remove those toxins from your life! (And it's true, you don't have to hang on to those pictures. I've done a little ceremonial burning of certain photos in the past and it was freeing!)
Posted by: Tonya | February 27, 2013 at 08:32 AM
I once burned a bunch of journal pages and then ran the ashes through the garbage disposal. Very cathartic. Alternatively drain the toilet tank and tape a picture of this piece of shit to the bottom of your toilet so you can take a dump on his face at least once a day. Fun! P.S. Ashley is awesome.
Posted by: Adrasteia | February 27, 2013 at 10:22 AM
Go ahead with the Fent Vent...where else can you get it off your chest? And it seems to me you need to get it off your chest so you can eventually just write them off and not let them occupy even the smallest part of your brain. And maybe rather than Stalin, who was powerful and dangerous, Mike is more like Ozzy Osbourne or Homer Simpson who are each an idiotic dufus.
Posted by: Karan | February 27, 2013 at 10:23 AM
The picture of Alison is so telling. They must have grown so much through this experience, to be mature enough to manage through that type of situation.
Posted by: Jay | February 27, 2013 at 08:07 PM
Heck, lately I'm feeling like I'm just going through the motions too and I have NO reason to feel that way. One foot in front of the other. Love the Stalin!
Posted by: kayak woman | February 28, 2013 at 03:11 PM
Hey, if you DO decide to set fire to certain photos, I now know how to use a fire extinguisher! It's always great to keep a good sense of humor. ;)
Posted by: Marie K | February 28, 2013 at 10:07 PM