Home to the Empty House
Jan. 3rd, 2012 08:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rebeccmeisterI really don't like to blog about emotionally difficult things when I'm in the middle of them, because it's often difficult for me to articulate what's going on (even to myself) and no reason to subject anybody else to it if it's just "blah blah blah pity party woo!" Also, I know that many might want to express sympathy and support, in the very least, or already have, so forgive me for reiterations.
On New Year's Day, while my parents, my aunt L, and I were sitting around the kitchen table at breakfast, my mom started a conversation about the new year and the things she was looking forward to. Eventually, I started to cry, probably mostly because I wasn't looking forward to going back to this empty house in Texas, and I started to feel like there were few things to look forward to this year. I've basically been crying ever since then. I keep thinking back to that month where I had mono - I think that was back in 2006 - which was one of the other times in my life when I felt so incredibly alone. At least then I felt like there were things I could do, go rowing, take ceramics classes, go on bike rides with other people and invite people to my house to play Scrabble. More than anything, I wanted to get back to work at that time. As much as I am hoping that 2012 will be easier than 2011, it's hard to be really optimistic when I mostly just feel trapped here in this house.
As my parents acknowledged, all three of us siblings (my brother, my sister, myself) are going through some pretty difficult transitions right now, and have to deal with a lot of uncertainty about the future. My brother, who is a great scientist with a very supportive wife (traditional formula for success), has poured so much energy into job applications this year, and has yet to get a single interview. It's pretty agonizing for him, especially because he and his wife would like to live somewhere closer to the rest of the family on the west coast, and because this is a critical year for him to find his next position - he doesn't have much more time left to look, and he has a young son to support. This does not make me feel optimistic about my own prospects, either, for I don't think I have the same kind of academic drive that he has (my motivations differ), nor do I have a wife at home who is thinking about and helping out with laundry, shopping, and cooking. I have never had such a hard time concentrating on academic work as I've had out here. I know better than to wallow in misery or to try to drown sorrow in destructive behaviors, and I know that things eventually get better even when it doesn't always feel like they will. Meanwhile, my sister is applying to graduate programs, and I suspect she's feeling like the future is just as uncertain for her as for us. We are very lucky to have loving, supportive parents through all of this.
I brought along yarn and two books on the trip to California and Seattle. I finished both books with a few days left at Lake Tahoe, and figured out that my knitting needles were the wrong size for the project I hoped to start. I cannot read in cars or on airplanes, so I spent a lot of time sitting with my hands idle. I am exhausted of traveling.
Where will I go, from here?
On New Year's Day, while my parents, my aunt L, and I were sitting around the kitchen table at breakfast, my mom started a conversation about the new year and the things she was looking forward to. Eventually, I started to cry, probably mostly because I wasn't looking forward to going back to this empty house in Texas, and I started to feel like there were few things to look forward to this year. I've basically been crying ever since then. I keep thinking back to that month where I had mono - I think that was back in 2006 - which was one of the other times in my life when I felt so incredibly alone. At least then I felt like there were things I could do, go rowing, take ceramics classes, go on bike rides with other people and invite people to my house to play Scrabble. More than anything, I wanted to get back to work at that time. As much as I am hoping that 2012 will be easier than 2011, it's hard to be really optimistic when I mostly just feel trapped here in this house.
As my parents acknowledged, all three of us siblings (my brother, my sister, myself) are going through some pretty difficult transitions right now, and have to deal with a lot of uncertainty about the future. My brother, who is a great scientist with a very supportive wife (traditional formula for success), has poured so much energy into job applications this year, and has yet to get a single interview. It's pretty agonizing for him, especially because he and his wife would like to live somewhere closer to the rest of the family on the west coast, and because this is a critical year for him to find his next position - he doesn't have much more time left to look, and he has a young son to support. This does not make me feel optimistic about my own prospects, either, for I don't think I have the same kind of academic drive that he has (my motivations differ), nor do I have a wife at home who is thinking about and helping out with laundry, shopping, and cooking. I have never had such a hard time concentrating on academic work as I've had out here. I know better than to wallow in misery or to try to drown sorrow in destructive behaviors, and I know that things eventually get better even when it doesn't always feel like they will. Meanwhile, my sister is applying to graduate programs, and I suspect she's feeling like the future is just as uncertain for her as for us. We are very lucky to have loving, supportive parents through all of this.
I brought along yarn and two books on the trip to California and Seattle. I finished both books with a few days left at Lake Tahoe, and figured out that my knitting needles were the wrong size for the project I hoped to start. I cannot read in cars or on airplanes, so I spent a lot of time sitting with my hands idle. I am exhausted of traveling.
Where will I go, from here?
