108beads

And for heaven’s sake, start an investment retirement account now. Yeah, I know, “but I’m not making enough, but there’s that shiny thing in the (online) store window, but I’m never going to get old.” Just allot one take-out coffee’s worth of spare change per week. You can up the ante later. Let the miracle of compound interest do its thing.

It sounds like you may be feeling very self-conscious about interactions. It took me a long time to learn, but much of the time (I’ve come to realize), “they ain’t studying on me.” Like—other people aren’t scrutinizing me or judging me as much as I think they are.

Plenty of people are so wrapped up up in their own heads that they aren’t paying you any attention, perhaps not realizing how you are reading their responses to you.

Maybe it’s just me getting older, but “when I am an old woman, I shall wear purple.” If others think I’m dressed weird or acting oddly—what of it? I don’t need (and can’t have) everyone’s approval. Sure—there are limits; I don’t want to endanger myself or others, or provoke hostility. I don’t want to be mean to anyone.

If you make overtures of friendship and kindness and are turned away, that says a lot more about others than it does about you.

Absolutely! Toasted, with ketchup!

Sorry, absolutely no clue—like at least 30-40 years ago.

Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. And if they do? Bite them back!

I hear this! Mine now tries to snuggle up by shoving his butt toward my face, and draping his tail across my mouth.

I’ve read about a variation of this and do it faithfully! Except you have to be driving under an overpass with train tracks, and there has to be a (preferably moving) train on the tracks above you. The idea is that when you press your hand to the car’s ceiling, you get to send a wish to hitch a ride on the train going by above you. The moving train takes your wish along with it, giving it quicker travels, more exposure to the world, and thus more opportunities to be fulfilled.

From my grandmother: “Essen! Essen!” (Eat! Eat!) Followed quickly by “You need to lose weight! You’re getting fat!”

Sigh. I hear this very deeply. I’m pushing 70; both parents died a few years back.

First, as you likely know, you’ve opened the door, but it’s up to her to walk through it. It may take more time leaving the door open; it may never happen. “It’s not you, it’s her.”

You mention sexual abuse in her past. I’ve lived with that with my current partner for many years. It’s always been a 600-lb gorilla nobody wants to talk about, because what is there to say? I know it can distort relationships in odd ways.

My mother and I also had teen angst issues. And she had other forms of trauma in her youth which informed our issues as mother & daughter. After years very low contact, she broached the issue when I was in my 50s, and she was mid-80s. But she did so in a place or at a time where honest, open discussion was impossible—in a very public venue, or at a time when we needed to leave for another obligation. So she both wanted to get it off her chest, and really didn’t want a discussion she couldn’t control completely.

By that point, I realized she’d done her best as a mother, and it wouldn’t benefit either of us to have her Go to Glory feeling like she’d screwed me up. She had—but there was no way to fix or repair the damage, nothing to be gained by rehashing shoulda, coulda, woulda. And she had done the best with the resources she had. So I said “okay.” And let it go.

You probably have food banks in your area which would be delighted to get some!