Brenda to the Rescue

Last night we had to go over to Brenda's aunt's house. Their house had been damaged by the storm late Saturday night early Sunday morning. Trees were down and they were without power. We went under the guise of helping them in whatever way that we could.

When we arrived her aunt Renee said that she didn't care about the food in the freezer and most of the debris had been cleared away. I felt useless the whole time that we were there and I didn't understand why we were there. We literally stood and watched someone cut a tree.

I did not see how we were helping. They didn't seem to be under any real emotional stress and I started to feel that Brenda was just looking for an excuse to sit and drink.

There are times when Brenda truly makes me miserable. I saw very little reason for us to sit in the dark. I doubt that it was very helpful and I could have been doing other things. Even her cousin said that it was sad how excited Brenda was getting about the power being out. Her relatives were fine and there was very little that we could do for them.

Of course since I wasn't having fun meant that I wanted to hurt her. This warped thinking is getting really old. Her relatives are fine. They are grown people and they can take care of themselves.

Sometimes Brenda and Tracy are very much the same person although neither of them would admit it. Both of them pretend to be very independent when in reality they can do very little for themselves. Neither of them could survive without their families.

The tension has been high between Brenda and myself lately. We really need some time apart. I feel as though I do everything that she wants to do and I have very little time for myself. She calls this being selfish, but two people being around one another all of the time is unhealthy.

As I write this entry Brenda is over at her aunt's house. Why I do not know. Maybe to complain about me. Maybe to be the center of attention. Since I did not want to go this means that I hate her family and only care about myself. Sigh. Brenda sees things in a very narrow focus.

I should also mention that she cooked supper in complete silence. Yes, I am a sexist pig who demands that she cook supper for me every night. Hardly. She could just as easily gone over to her aunt's house and I could have made something for myself. This just gives her fuel for the fire as they like to say.

I am mean to her and her family. I only care about myself and no one else. Maybe I should stamp asshole on my forehead.

Arguments can reduce people to children. Feelings get hurt and tempers rise, but they are also unavoidable at times. I try to learn from my mistakes. I really do.

Brenda still fails to realize how important this journal is to me. Yes, I do it for me. Yes, it is selfish, but it makes me feel better. This is mine. Its all that I have that is still vaguely creative. When I am away from here it does bother me. Its not an addiction. Its not therapy. Its me.

As sad as it may sound the few people that write me I consider to be friends or at very least peers. Very few people in my daily life are creative. I miss being around creative people. I miss the energy. I miss the potential for things that I could not have imagined. I really do need this journal. Writing on paper is not the same. This seems beyond me at times. It goes outside of my reach. It exists on its own.

So much has been on my mind lately I need to release it somewhere.