awakening... after twenty-five years.

It's like I've had blankets ripped off me on a cold winter morning. Twenty-five years of my life has passed, and I am astonished that I threw away so much opportunity, so much of what I worked so hard to achieve for the first half of my life for the sake of my family life and children. I have Googled around to see if this situation is unique. I couldn't find much.

The other day I saw a spider swinging down from the light in the hall. I grabbed the thread and lowered the spider into the toilet. It wadded up into a ball, then began to swim, desperate to get out, unwilling to stop trying but unable to get traction on anything, not even the porcelain. I saw myself in that spider and decided to let it go. It scuttled off to a place behind the toilet and I haven't seen it since.

It's hard not to look back on my life and dwell on all the choices I could have made differently. Really hard. And I worry about my children. I will always worry about them.

Ten crows hiding

There really has been an invasion of crows here. I googled it and what has transpired here with the influx of crows has gone down in many other smaller cities like mine. They apparently prefer smaller cities, especially near a river. The river? Right next to downtown.

Further parallels: got a notice from my son's school that this neighborhood that has become so vacant and haunted is now plagued by some gang activity. Do I wish we could flee? Yes. Right now. And to turn back the clock which I cannot seem to do. During the day when I am home and not volunteering for the food bank (depressing) or at the job center (depressing), I sit by my woodstove thankful for the heat, thankful for my internet connection, sometimes I listen to the radio also very depressing. Neil Conan of TOTN is so cock-sure of himself, it's too much for me. And TV? Forget it. The joy of what this place had the first three years of our lives here is gone. An era of guinea pigs, preschool and dogs. Hope for my kids' safety and futures has diminished profoundly. Suddenly I am useless to my community except to care some for my children who don't need me as much anyway. There is a horrible sense of abandonment by a world that I thought I lived in. It's gone gone gone. I knew. KNEW when we bought this place that the sign at the top of the street that reads, "Dead End" was prophetic.

A view of my neighbor's house across the street:

Creative work has evaded me severely. I am not driven to do it, cannot seem to find the peace that I need to do it. I cannot knit. Instead I am shocked by my ill-preparedness to face a rugged world, far more rugged than I ever realized it is, and I am terrified for my sons' safety and well-being. I am not finding any pathway back in to the workforce, and the few moments I've had as opportunities have met with a degree of mockery in one case, pity in another. I never thought of myself as being an older worker before, but apparently, obviously now, I am. Having spent time as an artist without substantial financial backing elsewhere was a mistake. Basking in the aesthetic beauty and meaning of what I could see? Foolish. I should have been working my way up in public or healthcare administration or something. Taking my kids out of the schools here and schooling them myself was also a mistake. I should have gone back to work/school and put them into private schools. Or let them sink/swim before the gangs moved in. I am not bilingual, and because I am not, I have another serious blow to my reentry into the workforce.

I'm working on six months of this realization that the world has changed and I have been left behind. I could use a really good adviser, somebody to mentor me back into the workforce. I was so foolish not to be building a significant network all this time. I let my significant other and my own denial prevent me from embracing the world as it IS instead of basking in chickens and dogs and innocence that is transient and often trashed sooner than we would like. I'd run to Canada or Vermont or some place like that if I could.