Ageism
I believe I alienated every single one of my age peer friends and associates over the course of the Coronaville experience. My least favorite thing about being a senior citizen is listening to all the doctor dramas and the ever-growing list of ailments. They are bad enough face-to-face where I can read lips, etc. Over the electronic medias, those dreary recitals felt like cruel and unusual punishment. By the end of the first Coronaville quarter, my old friends had ceased calling. I was entirely too grateful for being spared the medical updates to even care how, exactly, I might have offended whom.
Here in the closing acts of Coronaville, I find myself psychopating in unrecognizable dimensions in more recent opportunities to socialize with my age peers. During one such opportunity yesterday, listening to one of my age peers give her medical recital drove me off the proverbial deep end, in between assuring me that my second parenting career would be a walk in the park. Like so many of my age peers, the lady is too far disabled to even tend her own one-person household needs, but me raising 3 orphans is gauranteed to be Easy Street. I reckon it's always easier to spend other people's energy?
I repressed the bubbling cauldron of psychotic reactions for as long as I could. By the time I exploded and asked her to not make me listen to the recital, I was psychotic enough to lack clear memory of the words I asked with. Proof currently unavailable, but I believe I was downright rude about it. Another potential friendship shot out of the proverbial waters?
Methinks that listening to geriatric health dramas feeds my anxieties over starting a second parenting career at age 65. The second anniversary of that auspicious beginning coincides with my 67th birthday. Who the fuck am I kidding?
Dunno if I should increase the masked social distances between myself and my age peers in hopes of "feeding the good wolf" or admit I am as feeble as my peers and get with the age-related testing scene and grow a repertoire of doctor stories of my very own. The pediatrician stories of my current realities arenae too welcome in the senior circles.
Sorting. . . WTF am I dealing with here. Please, give me a name for ^it^.
Again I leave the mood icon on the rapid-cycling median.
Replies
My therapist once said to me a way you can sometimes make sense of life
is to see it as a series of narcissistic injuries. This was helpful to me so that
I could put things into perspective when that kind of thing happened.
Maybe a way you can protect yourself from possible offence in the future is
that if someone says how you're life will be to you like this lady did - maybe you can
just say to yourself "Oh well, it's one of those". It's like putting it into a mental box -maybe
you could also say to yourself that this Lady "Maybe in her mind she actually thinks she's trying
to ease your mind and be supportive or helpful"? It's helped me to think of things
this way as it's protected me from reacting to stuff and make room to find a humanity.
We're all just human - and full of flaws - Moments of offence might come - but
they ought not to have too much power...does this make sense?
I just finished writing you a response on my Iphone and then it lost connectivity.
So here I am writing it again on my laptop. Sending peace Arfie!!
Disregarding the wisdom of people who know my life better than I do is not too big a deal for me. There isnae a shortage of such experts here in our world. Arguing with a fool only proves there are too fools. Thank you Ma'am/Sir. I shall give that all DUE attention.
The direction I seem to be psychopating down is that listening to their medical dramas highlights and focuses every single one of my own geriatric aches and pains. The longer the story, the more time I have to feel and start obsessing over my own undeniable aches and pains. The fact that I don't do the age-related waiting rooms doesn't mean I live free of geriatric aches and pains.
The fresh reminders seem to seriously enhance my arthritis, etc., for the next round of childcare duties.
Or is it simple envy? Dear God, I miss senior life, especially the naps. I also miss being a stereotypical grandmother who enjoys visiting the GKs for a while before sending them back to their parents and getting back to my own geezer life.
Peace
Hi Arfie...it's been a while and I've been thinking of you on and off over the last several months....John is home. I see you are experiencing similar to myself...my worst place 'grocery isle blocking' as seniors discuss their health issues'...frustrating. Since we are of similar age, I just turned 68 a week ago, I too find the self absorbed oh poor me syndrome, is probably due to living with someone who doesn't listen to them, they have Nothing in their lives to talk about except themselves and they more times than not want sympathy.
For myself, I don't like to ask for help, easier for me to do stuff on my own.....do I have health problems, ya, I still know that I have to deal with them the best as I can. Not Focusing on negative, as this keeps my hamster wheel spin non stop! So I suspect these age peers have nothing much in their lives as you do...A Never Stop For One Minute....and pushing on the best you can despite how you feel cause that's the deck of cards you were dealt~~~
With a 'poker face' quite frankly parenting no matter what the age, John just turned 24 is Hard. I never really understood when my Mom would say "I'm Doing The Best That I Can" despite my needs not being met....she just didn't have the 'it' in her.....just as I felt Toxic Mom, and I felt myself Toxic Mom to John.....well my friend, just give your self a break ..... break up those Old Toxic Mom tapes with your grand kids cause You Are Not The Same Person Today as 40 years ago....Day by day, hour by hour ya just have to be 'good enough' and in my own mind's eye, You Are and More!!!
Be well my friend :)
Thank you, ML. It's good to know I'm not the only senior in the world who finds the medical drama run-ons dreary and pointless. More and more I believe a collateral beauty of inheriting 3 orphans at age 65 and adding in the masked social distances of Coronaville soon after the inheritance is it doesn't leave me time nor resources to do or even listen to the standard geriatric waiting room vigils.
Those tapes from those old toxic people logics have proven self-destructive for my 3 orphans. The fad was even shorter lived than the "Plastic People" rhetoric from the late 60's. The oldest of my orphans is 8 and he recognizes "Toxic People" with the same blank stares that my first set of children recognized its predecessor. Insert Simon and Garfunkel here. Doo doo be do wap, all is groovy.