Unbearable

My unbearable existence has become ever so slightly more so.

My four year old nephew will now no longer sleep through the night. This has been going on for a matter of days now, but has just (as of half an hour ago) become completely out of control. The "not sleeping" issue would be tolerable were it not for my sister, who flies into a complete rage at the very implication that misbehavior or behavior that slightly deviates from the norm is on the horizon.

I've just endured a half hour of screaming, yelling and tantruming - all from my sister. I tried to defend him, attempting to comfort him, only to be screamed at.

I can't keep living like this. I honestly have no way out. I feel so bad for my nephew and wish there was something I could do to help him but I don't know what more I can do. I provide food, clothing and shelter. I give as much emotional support as I can to my niece and nephew. At the end of the day, though, they aren't my children, and any attempt at better parenting I attempt to guide my sister with is met with complete and utter resistance.

I feel lost, trapped and alone. I don't want to come home from work anymore. I hate the weekends because I have to hear screaming and yelling constantly. This is hell.

Trapped

I hate my life.

There are moments when I absolutely can not fathom another minute of the dreadful existence that my life has become.

I suppose some sort of explanation is in order and I'll try to make it as enjoyable to read as possible, but I'll understand if you run screaming in the opposite direction.

I've been working at my job for almost 21 years. Conceivably in just a little over four and a half years I'll be able to retire. Not on my whole salary, mind you. I'll get exactly half. From that half, I'll have to pay for my health insurance, medication, food and other assorted living expenses. I'm not sure how that will actually happen as I can't live on all of my salary now.  Still, that dangling carrot of being able to leave in just over four and a half years is VERY tempting.

I work for the state court system. It's not a great job. It's not horrible, either. I'm certainly not out digging ditches and I work exactly 8am to 5pm, Monday through Friday. No working late, no overtime, no weekends. Ever. I certainly would if I could, but the state doesn't want to pay for that and I'm not giving them my time for free. I come into contact with the public aka the great unwashed masses on a daily basis and to say that my frustration level is through the roof would probably be the biggest understatement of my life. There are mornings when I wake up, realize that it's a work day and quietly cry for a few moments knowing that I have to deal with a job that absolutely destroys me every moment that I'm there.

My home life isn't much better. I live in a small three bedroom house with my adult sister and her two children, ages three and four. I love them as if they were my own kids, but there are times when I just can't take the noise and the messes and the constant questions and the aggravation and I just want to crawl into a ball and hide from the world. This has been one of those days and it's merely noon now. Screaming and yelling and fighting and just general insanity.

I am so unhappy that I'm both in therapy and on medication and I still can't see the forest for the trees. I broke down at work on Friday and spent a little over an hour crying. I just couldn't stop it. I got to thinking about my situation and how I feel powerless to do anything about it and I couldn't fight back the tears.

If I were better off financially, I'd just up and leave everything behind for a week or so and spend it at Disney World, having fun, shopping and riding rides, knowing that the world was going on without me. Unfortunately, I can scarcely afford park entry, much less food and accommodations for a week.

I just don't know what to do anymore. At all.

At The Movies

Roger Ebert passed away earlier today.

I've linked to his Wikipedia page, but that's really pointless. I'm sure most everyone knows who he is.

When I heard the news earlier today, I felt like someone took all the air out of the room I was sitting in. It's what I imagine it would feel like to be on a plane that suddenly goes through decompression. There was no mask dropping from the ceiling of my office, though. Just the quick realization that one of our generation's greatest film critics and authors had left us far too soon.

I tried to explain the emotions I felt regarding the loss of Roger Ebert to someone and remarked that I had no idea why the death of someone I had never met had made me feel such a profound sense of loss. Perhaps it was the shock of just seeing his blog entry yesterday where he talked about the recurrence of his cancer, how he was going to be undergoing treatment and would have to scale back his responsibilities and how he would still be around for some time to come. Or, perhaps, it was something much more surprising for me - the possibility that I felt sad at the loss of someone whose opinion I valued and someone whose courage in the face of such a devastating illness was indomitable.

I felt much the same way when I heard that Jane Henson had passed away earlier this week. I didn't know her personally. I had never met her. I barely even knew what she looked like. There was scarcely a part of my life, though, that hadn't been touched by her work with her husband.

I realized that we all respond to death differently. Some people choose to celebrate the life of the deceased by remembering the great things they managed to accomplish in their lives. On the other hand, I tend to think about how their light is gone and how that light will no longer illuminate my own world.

Mr. Ebert wrote a piece for Salon in 2011 titled, "I Do Not Fear Death" and I'd like to share a bit from it with you now:

“Kindness” covers all of my political beliefs. No need to spell them out. I believe that if, at the end, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out.

I hope that somewhere out there, Gene is welcoming Roger into the balcony.