Why not...

Here goes, another crack at blogging. But isn't this just a journal you can't tell everything to and can't access all the time because you don't have internet access on your phone? Which begs the question, why does your broke brother have a blackberry and you have a hand me down phone, but he is the one asking you for $50? Or is that just me?

Anyway, I guess the story/drama of today that I should unload on this blog is why I'm so connected to my family and why I can't tell them no. I am the one who saves my money and works hard and doesn't splurge on myself, but all that leaves me with is the title designated family bank/line of credit. FML. Or, should I say (here, as I never say in real life) FMFamily. There is a Mary Oliver poem I love that I think about when my mind regresses to how much of a burden (this half of) my family is sometimes.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

I wish I had the bravery to follow through with it. To save my life and sanity, but it all feels so selfish. Maybe it's one reason I don't want to have kids. To me, family has been a huge burden. Yes, we have had good times and I do love them, but this is certainly not the family I would have chose. Most families are f-ed up; I would have chosen a life of choice -- each day waking up and being able to ask myself "is this what you want today?" and being able, more importantly, to change it if not, simply by changing myself. Moving, finding new friends, a new life. Because you cannot change others, no matter how hard you try. What do I do? Continue this way? I have already resigned myself to living in D. because of the proximity to these people whose life I must constantly mend and the low cost of living which will help me support my family. And NO!! G-f-ing-D This is not just my fantasy that I am needed. Yes, they would survive if I fell off the face of the planet, but I have not, yet, and they are dependent. But I should try harder to wean them off of me... how...? Just say no? We saw how well that worked for the youth and drugs. Per usual, it's not that simple. And it's also easier to give in than to feel guilty and realize that if I'm not loaning them money they will just pawn their junk or take out loans with huge interest rates. It's not like I'm loaning them money to get their hair done, but on the other hand, it does all go in to the same pot, right? Literally, I'm sure. F.

Why do I love them? If not through our mutual realization of the accident of our births from the same mother I would care less about these people. I mean, I'd feel bad for them, but it would not be my problem. I would go on my happy, independent life. Maybe that's why I crave freedom and unattachment so badly, so deeply, so blindly. But for now, I will work a job I don't love and live in a city I don't love, so that I can provide for the people I do love. Is there another way?