In full swing

And they're off ...
Lots of social activity lately, summer has begun. This year it seems overwhelming to me. Other years I've basked in it, in the beginning, really enjoyed having so many social commitments, so much to do. This year I'm feeling depressed about things, especially about my brother--I'm very sad a lot of the time, so these people seem to be intruding into the order (or ordered chaos) of my life. Two of my absolute favorites were here last week and I got to see them a few times. Not enough times, but nice times. I stayed too late at their camp one night but I couldn't get myself to leave. Everyone else had gone to bed and it was just the three of us. It felt really nice to be with them, so pleasant. I wish I could see them more often.

Anyway, Linda's here now and she is great to be with. It's completely natural for us to be together. I spend so much time at her camp so easily, sometimes I feel I should stay away, but then I realize that I'm at work most of the time she's here so it's usually OK. I think. I usually stop there on my way home for "social hour." This year I'm making a concerted effort not to drink as much--for one thing, my meds don't work if I drink a lot, and for another thing it's just not a good idea. I started this yesterday, after being a drinking ass Saturday night. Not drunken, just drinking. Too much.

Saturday was Work Weekend at camp. About 10 cousins were there and when I went down around 9:30 they were all involved in various projects. Apparently it was a "pick your own project" year. I said I would mow the road but I had an errand to run first, then went home and slept for 2 hours. And said I had to help a friend so I couldn't stay for dinner. I couldn't stand the thought of being with that many Rogers at dinner. I made dessert & dropped it off.

I'm sleeping a lot lately, hours at a stretch on weekends. Yes, this is depression, but in a mild form and basically I'm feeling OK. I lack motivation and my house is a mess--a terrible mess. I still have 1 more coat of paint on the window before I can put the bedroom back together: this will take about half an hour but I can't get myself to do it.

Anyway, I mowed the road going down to camp, tried to mingle but found it difficult because my cousin's wife/former mother-in-law was there and she always seems angry. So I went to the boat house and cleaned the refrigerator. I was going to mow but my cousin/former father-in-law was taking a nap in the cabin next to the boat house & I didn't want to wake him. Say no more! I went home, leaving the road half mowed. Although I try very hard not to care if those two approve of me or not, it's a habit that's hard to break. I spent 10 years trying very, very hard to please them--no small task, these are people who are incredibly judgmental, and once they've determined what kind of person you are you can never be anything else. It's my belief that to them I am a lazy person who made their son's life hell. Anyway, I went home and went to sleep, then went to Linda's and drank a lot.

Yesterday I got up really early, but slept a lot. I called in sick to Sunday dinner, and sort of by arrangement with each other, Linda took my spot. She had a good visit with Bill and Ken and the others who stopped by after dinner. I was glad not to be there because I was depressed and felt crummy. I slept for 4 hours in the afternoon, trying to stay awake to watch the Diana Concert--I missed all the good stuff and was only fully awake for P. Diddy and Kanye West (YUCK). It'll be on again, it was VH1, after all. I went to Linda's (was actually invited) for the evening and we had a nice time.

Today I still feel sick, sort of sad, and just found out that my car needs at least $400 worth of new brakes. And I can't figure out why I always owe $2000 on my credit card. I need quick access to $250 for firewood, and that's all I have in my savings account so that's untouchable. Every time I think I do a good job of supporting myself and my house, I think of what a lousy financial situation I'm in. Then I rationalize it by telling myself it's just expensive to drive 300 miles a week to work, to use electricity to heat your house as well as buy lots of firewood, to try to eat healthy food, to have 2 dogs, to buy liquor and wine for the Laundrys, to drive to RI 5 times a year, blahblahblah.

My sister writes of death and suffering, things I think of--more often since Henry died. I wish he hadn't live for so long after his surgery and I hope he wasn't aware of what was going on, hoping he was going to live. I don't want to be in that state. If I'm going to die, I want to know I'm going to die. I'm not afraid to die but of course I don't want to die. I think it's pretty funny that the thing I worry about in my death is whether people will think I was a good person. That sounds as if I only care what people think of me, but that's not what I mean. I mean that I hope I live my life as a good person, live a righteous life and do kind things. And that that is what I'm remembered for. That's what I worry about in death. Which is what you certainly can't control: what people will remember you for. Or remember you at all. Then I think--do I really care if people remember me? We talk about this a lot, Ken and I. It mostly has to do with cemeteries and cremation and headstones, and why you mark the spot where your remains are buried, or have some sort of marker to note your existence. He's very definite about his plans and exactly where he'll be buried (on the other side of his infant son from where his wife is buried) and I'm definite about what will happen to my body (cremated). I always thought I wanted my ashes dumped in a hole in the family cemetery with a humble headstone flush to the ground, near my parents (and now my brother). I think that's still true, but Ken and I play "where do I want my ashes?" sometimes.

So much for depression and death. This work day is progressing slowly and in a most unproductive way. The car thing has really thrown me. When I pulled into the library's driveway it made a horrible noise so I called the dealer and begged for an appointment, made the service guy laugh, made him feel sorry for me and took the car up there. Didn't expect it to be the brakes, although I had thought of that before. And put it out of my mind. So that will be $800 on the car--tires and brakes in a month. Well, that's at 57,000, and it's my "summer tires." Oh hell, what can I do.