Sunday, July 10, 2016

What Horse? (Sad Horse)

It is sad to live a life with no one to talk to when you are sad. I have no one close enough for that. It's been a long time since I did. That cycles the sadness deeper and deeper until it becomes a constant hum under the surface mostly superficial daily life fun.

Case in point, my longest lasting softball team. Only four of us have been there since the beginning some five years ago. Each have their own lives and lifestyles and I am an outsider being the only straight one among us. That is not what brings me sadness though. It is never actually being accepted in the leadership group. I've offered so many times to help in any way. I have as much knowledge of softball as any of them, a lot more than some. I am the pitcher and it would help if they saw me as a leader because I take leadership on the field, but I get a lot of push back because I am not included in team decisions and others see I am not in the leadership group.

Even more specific to this season, this will be my fifth trip to the world series. The only two who have been there more often are the two coaches. Most of the players have never been. The coaches and a player or few have been meeting to make decisions about the team and the trip and when I asked about one of them today I was treated like I shouldn't be asking in front of the two different teams. I felt very disrespected and very left out of the loop, so I didn't go out with the team after the game (though that decision was more due not actually being asked by anyone and even more due to my to finances and neither coach reassuring me that there are any arrangements for me to stay somewhere and get around Austin when I get there and I've asked repeatedly about it and expressed how stressed, helpless, and depressing it is to not know).

They either don't care or don't take my sadness seriously which, either way, just adds to the sadness. After all the years and a almost a dozen seasons...

Jackson does not want to hear my sadness. I know she cares, she just does not handle my sadness will. I don't know how she deals with depressed people in her work as a therapist and I know she deals with a lot more depressed and problematic people than me. Maybe it is because she depended on me to be her rock and parent and provider for so long that she got scared when she saw me in sad or weak moments. I've accepted her as she is and love her precious heart for the wonder that is her, but I do not look to her for support when I am down or sad anymore because it upsets her and that does not help me.

Curly has pulled away some since finding a new friend who is less financially stable and needier than I am. Not sure if there are any other reasons, but it started during the two weeks I was going to funerals and Pulse-shooting related events daily. He found this other guy during that period. Maybe he got offended by my getting involved so much in the community support or maybe it's something else. People are such a challenge to understand sometimes.

Helena cares and trust me and knows me as well as anyone, but I don't want to bring sadness into our friendship as it does not seem to fit and we are both very comfortable with the balance we found with each other after more than 15 years. Some friends are just not meant to be deep heavy intimate pillows no matter how well we trust each other.

Jane and others who live an hour or more away (and who do not like talking on the phone) are just not available in spite of the caring we share and fun we have together. I would trade any of my friends for the roles they play in this life with me. I just have no one to share sadness with these days and rarely ever have. Maybe my sensitivity just asks for too much. I must do something wrong since I am in this place in time and space.

I have more meaningful discussions on Facebook these days than I do in the offline world. Though the caring words on Facebook are soothing and rewarding, they do not replace a little in-person caring and I do not want to use Facebook to replace the time I would rather be sharing offline... or even just writing to myself like this. This helps me accept reality and put things in perspective. I am alone, always have been, and for whatever reason, people do not seem to want to come or stay too close to me. I accepted that long ago and made peace with the experience, though when I am involved with many dozens of people on a regular basis, it is sad that not one really cares enough to get to know me beyond the activities we share.

Ah, and as Jackson's playlist plays on, Christina Perri sings The Lonely... and I laugh at the appropriateness of the title. The chorus is almost as haunting as some of the music from Phantom of the Opera. Sad songs have always helped released the sadness and releasing sadness has always helped bring back my smile (I see rainbows through my tears, remember?).

I sent out a dozen texts in the past hour. Only two responses, one of my softball-addict friends shared a little conversation and Jackson sent a brief response like we almost always do. And Kansas sings Dust in the Wind...

So I sit here alone in my sadness today. The sadness today is not being included in the team activities except as just another player after all these years and seniority and knowledge. Especially when one of the newest players put me in my place when someone asked about the World Series shirts today and the coach told one of the players the new shirts are black, which would be brutal in the summer heat, but I think he was kidding. When I asked he played dumb saying "what shirts?" and a newer player who is in on the leadership/planning meetings said "don't worry about it, you'll find out when everybody does." Pow, that was a clear message to keep my mouth shut and stay far away from any team leadership discussions. Not a good place for the oldest, most experienced player on the team to be. Especially not as a pitcher who generally takes a leadership role on the field.

I also realized again today that practicing with this team is not at all inspiring. Of all my teams, this team is the youngest yet it is the least enthusiastic about playing the game. Almost every one is happy when practice is over and complians about the heat and fatigue long before I even feel tired. Kids half my age were ready to drop and two of them took a seat on my cooler that I set up behind my bag for shade and I ended up standing in the sun as there was no shade at the fields so there is no team nurturing going on. They drank my drinks though as they still don't bring their own in spite of my urging to hydrate almost every game. Most teams look out for their pitcher, especially when he or she is their only pitcher as I am, whether he is twice their age or not. Two of my other teams don't want me coaching bases or even running bases much to keep me away from potential injury and more rested. They are heavy party kids, which may be one reason why. I am sad that they just don't seem to enjoy the game as much as my others teams.

That sadness pours into the general underlying sadness of not having anyone to talk to about any sadness or really, anything serious going on in me...

As Brandi Carlisle sings Elton and Bernie's Sixty Years On... Narf, I guess.

I suppose Paul's When I'm 64 would be appropriate about now.

As usual, after all these words, I still find my smile. :)

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