I’ve been depressed lately, about a variety of things. Today, though, I’ve been thinking a lot about siblings. I have three \”adopted\” (I was never legally adopted) brothers. Robert, the eldest at over 50, committed suicide in July. Larry, the next oldest, by all reports is doing badly, very addicted to drugs and alcohol. I don’t see him anymore. And Gary. He and his family try to be nice to me, sometimes, mostly when they want something. Like babysitting. I just don’t have the energy or time that particular relationship had. Then I have half siblings. Lee, I think, is younger than me by about 18 months. Stacey, I think, is younger than Lee by about 18 months. We all have the same mother, and they share a father. When Jeannette left me, at around 4, Lee was a toddler, and Stacey an infant. I never saw them again. I was able to write to them after their father died (when Jeannette left they went to New Jersey to live with him, I believe). I remember them. To them, however, I’m just a name. The adopted brothers were to far in age from me, as they were graduating from high school when I was a baby. The other siblings were too far from me both emotionally and geographically, since neither their father nor my parents, had any intention of promoting contact between us. I have memories of them, and of \”us\” and it makes me so sad. I think I may have an older 1/2 sister that Jeannette gave up for adoption at birth, but I’ve only heard vague references, I have no idea if it’s true. So, as I sit here, I have potentially 5 living siblings of some kind, all of whom I have NO relationship with, probably never will, and feel like an only child. An only child who will be solely responsible for her parents in old age (which is coming soon it feels, as my mother seems to be rapidly declining). I just feel very alone. I feel alone and abandoned by many members of my family. I realize that some of it may not be reasonable. But that doesn’t soothe the child inside me who’s so confused when \”Aunt Dee\” says, \”Why don’t you just call me Mommy. I’m your mommy now.\” Nobody seems to get it. I remember my first family. I remember them, and it’s as if I’m the only one who does. Everyone else wants to morph it into something else. It hurts being the only one who wants to remember and know. I want to remember and know.

We’re building our business. In building the business, we’ve been absorbing ourselves in motivational tapes and books in order to really stay positive, get good educational information, and to try and keep negativity out of our lives. For example, although I stay abreast of most current events online, I will not watch network news on TV before I go to bed. I tried it a couple of nights ago, just to sort of calibrate, make sure I was doing the right thing – discernment and all that. In 20 minutes, I heard about violence, beatings, gang rape, false rape, and on and on. Not one thing to be positive about, not one thing to rejoice in. I went to bed to read my bible, and another book I’m reading. I had to get those images out of my head. They made me feel restless, angry, depressed… I shouldn’t feel that way! I have things to rejoice in! While I’m terribly sorry for the people that were awfully hurt from the news, there’s not one blessed thing I could do about their pain. So, I was right. No more news before bed. But what I actually meant to write about is – I’m getting very uncomfortable in our business. But I also know that’s a GOOD thing. For example, we’ve got 4 plans to show, possibly all this weekend! And Jay’s doing a follow up today. But I just think, good grief! 4 plans! How are we going to do this? I don’t have anough materials – too much! too much! But then I was reading one of my books, and it said that discomfort means you’re on the right track. Discomfort means I’m on my way to a breakthrough. Complacency gave me the life that I don’t like, that I don’t want to live anymore. It follows, then, that my getting uncomfortable, getting out of that comfort zone, could very possibly lead to great things. I do so want that. God, keep making me uncomfortable.

I feel for my son. I really really do. I don’t know if he’s just a \”bad\” kid, or if something’s mentally wrong, or if he just has no impulse control… I don’t know, and that’s what we’re trying to find out. But he’s certainly getting the message from school that something’s wrong with him and he’s not wanted around. He has a field trip next week to see a Curious George play. I’m waiting for the call that asks if it might not be better that he doesn’t go. It’s coming. I just know it. I just really get the impression from everyone at the school that it’s not that they’re trying to help him, it’s that he’s their cross to bear. I know what it’s like to feel unwated and shunned. I so didn’t want that for my children.

I got my ring, it’s beautiful, and the perfect size – and on my hand right now. Had yet another issue with Joseph at school today. I don’t even want to think about it, but suffice it to say, the principal was involved. Again. My mother is in today getting her spinal bone marrow tested. For cancer. I’m trying not to think about that at all, or in any depth. My imagination’s too good. I’ll wait until there’s some kind of word. Our business is really starting to take off a little bit. \”Oh the dreams they will dream…\”

I so badly want to write, and have no idea what to say except for the boring minutia of my life. Logan’s stitches are out. That’s a good thing. I have a chiropractor appointment today… See!!?? I’m boring. Which is why I’m so torn about this. I mean write 5 times a week? And be interesting? I would have to do research! and be witty! But on the other hand I really really would like to do it. But I have to write a few entries on possible topics. This is going to take a while. And then I have to provide samples of previous entries of my own. Do any of you have favorite entries of mine that were – well – good? I’m having a serious Sally Field moment of insecurity here. And I’m considering moving to a blog format. Not sure. I may start experimenting.