Okay, SERIOUSLY Now.

Seriously, are you all gone?? I haven't had a comment in WEEKS and I'm wondering if anyone's still reading!

I refinanced the Catastrophe last night, with much trepidation; my mortgage payment went up about $300 and I'm really nervous. But I'll be getting the roof, the windows, and the doors replaced, which should bring the energy bills down and increase the value of this rattletrap; and they paid off one of my more irritating bills--the loan I took to pay that jackass Bob the Plumber. AND, it's going to give me a chance to finally get rid of my houseguests, who wore out their welcome long, long ago...even though I love them to pieces and will actually miss two of the little bastards when they're gone. (I will NOT miss Cassidy. Cassidy BIT me the other day.) I haven't heard from Tim since New Years', and I am QUITE pissed that he hasn't called to tell me what's going on with him.

Work has been fairly horrid, and I'm thinking seriously about looking for something else in a couple of months. It's not that I don't like the people, but they continually ask me to do the impossible with no instruction whatsoever, and it's starting to grate on me. If they would give me some training, send me to a class, whatever--that would at least HELP. But it's not happening. Really, I don't want to work for anyone else anymore, which is a sure incentive to get the bakery going, but I'm completely apathetic right now. Doctor J says that apathy is just another symptom of my depression, which she agrees is pretty severe--"when the tears are always that close to the surface," she says, "that's a sure sign that the depression is pretty strong. And when you're that depressed, you're not going to be very task-y." Which is an understatement--I've got no drive whatsoever, which also explains the relative silence of this blog. I'm okay, but I'm not good...and really, I'm not even okay. I'm functional, but that's about it. And I want to do something about it, because this really isn't any way to live, not really. I feel like my REAL life ended in 1995, and all I'm doing now, all I've been doing since then, is just playing out the string. And that's a pretty sorry way to feel when you're 35 years old.

One of the things Dr. J is surprised about is how much guilt I feel about everything. She commented on it when I said I felt guilty because I don't feel the kind of loyalty and devotion to my mother that I think I should. I tolerate her, and I feel like I ought to be much more of a dutiful daughter--that I shouldn't feel like it's an imposition to talk to her every day, or to see her on the weekends. Dr. J said "I think it's surprising that YOU feel guilty, and SHE'S the one who's spent your whole life criticizing and manipulating you. " (She pulls no punches as regards my relationship with Mom; after hearing some of the childhood stories, Dr. J seems to be of the opinion that much of my low self-esteem can be traced back to Mom's doorstep. I'm inclined to be a little more forgiving, but in some ways I'm not sure that isn't half of the problem.) I wish I could feel something else; I wish I could be angry at the things that have happened to me, or sad, or sorrowful, or anything. Instead I've concentrated on making myself as invisible and inoffensive as possible to the outside world, making no demands of anyone and apologizing at every turn for the audacity of being alive. It gets old fast, you know? Feeling like you've got no right or reason to ask anything of anyone, that the best you can hope for is to stay out of the way and not make a nuisance of yourself...That's no way to live.

I just wish I could stop it.