In Need of a Life in New Beginnings

I need to get a life if for no other reason that I have something to write about. It’s not as hard as one would think I think it is. I live in the Atlanta area, so there are loads of clubs and activities I could get involved in, but the issue of my Dad is always weighing on my mind.

My dad has health problems as I’ve discussed in the past. He’s 67 years old, so he’s getting close to the age where his body can really start falling apart. He keeps himself in good physical shape for his age; I’m really more concerned about his mental health. He just sits in his house all day, hoarding trash and living in his filth. I think he’s basically waiting to die. He has no drive to better his situation. If he suffers another serious injury, I can’t imagine him making any sort of recovery with his current attitude. I have no idea where that leaves me.

I suppose I’ll do what I have to do. If I have to move back to Eastman to take care of him, I will. However, I really, really want to make sure that option is the only one available. For one thing, if I move back there, I’m stuck there. Eastman is very rural. It’s not like Atlanta, where people move into and out of it all the time, so selling a home is comparatively easy. Conceivably, I could move to Eastman, he could die within a month, and then I’m stuck there until I can sale my home. Not only that, I’m concerned how much help I can really be. He’s been abundantly clear that he wants me to move back. Like I said, he’s physically able to do everything he should be doing (even though he won’t), and I don’t want to enable him even more. I think that’s what my presence would ultimately do, but the alternative is to watch him keep spiraling downward.

All that being said, the more of a life I build for myself here in Atlanta, the harder letting go of it will be if I have to move to take care of my Dad. I’ve toyed with the notion of his living with me up here, but I don’t know how willing he would be to move out of his hometown. Even worse, considering his my-way-or-the-highway personality along my much more compliant nature, he’d end up taking over my home. I lived with my hoarding parents for well over 20 years when all is added up. As much as I’m willing to do for my dad, I can’t go back to living like that.

They say, “expect the worst while hoping for the best.” I’m doing just that, keeping myself free from attachment in case I have to move back to Eastman, the worst case scenario. Of course, I hope the situation works out such that I don’t have to do that. That sounds like I’m playing my cards well, but I had a bit of a wake up call a week-and-a-half ago. My former landlord/housemate, Johnny, received what looked to be an important piece of mail for me. I went over to his place to pick it up, and we spent a little while catching up. As usual, he’s going out on dates and living life, and I really didn’t have much to update him regarding myself. I’m still pretty much a work-gym-home kind of a guy. I realized that I’m really missing out on life, and I’m tired of it. However, if I build a life for myself, aren’t I setting myself up for more pain when I very likely have to sacrifice it a few years down the road?

sigh

If I ever meet God, I’m going to ask him why was I born the caboose on a train of loons.