Why is it that good news is usually cushioned with so much bad? Like lambswool in a too big slipper, my narrow happiness is cushioned all around with itchy, hateful, I-just-can't-make-it-fit frustration and sadness. Things haven't been so great lately. I am still struggling with finding my nitch at work and in my doc program, found out my best friend is divorcing, and learned that my brother may possibly have Meniere's disease. In the midst of what could possibly be one of the worst days of my life, we get the call. Our agency has accepted us - they actually said they were looking forward to working with B and me. Gee, I wonder how long this will last - probably until the 5, 000th phone call or email...
Good news I can't really dwell on. I am sad for my friends, terrified for my brother, and really need to just get over myself. B has gone through a divorce, and we have gone through another one with his ex-wife; however, this is different. We love both these people. We often hang out together, and many times Brian will go with my girlfriend to see scary movies or smoke outside, while her husband and I will see the funny ones and chat about comic books, movies and celebrity gossip. We always switch partners when playing games, and ususally sit across from the opposite at dinner. That's the only swapping we do, so shut up! Nevertheless, I am sad to see it disintegrate and feel very helpless. This marriage is cancer, all good things are being eaten slowly by hard feelings, resentment, and loss of love and respect. And just like cancer, remission may happen, but the threat of the disease will always be there, lingering and waiting; a silent, deadly fog of poison anticipating one sharp inhale.
My brother is going deaf. He is in a lot of pain and is very sick with constant vertigo. Again, the feelings of helplessness are overwhelming me. Meniere's disease is scary and can make life incredibly difficult to maintain. He has three small children; a family to support. I wish I could do more, but all we can do is wait. All of his childhood and youth, my brother was teased about the size of his ears. In elementary school I opened up many, many cans of "Whoop Ass" because of taunts like, "big ears" or "Dumbo." In adulthood, my brother's head and body finally caught up with his ears, and he is a proportionate, beautiful man (way prettier than me). His ears no longer look large or unusual, they look normal. I just hate it that the one feature that caused him so much torment as a child is continuing to make him miserable.
As I type this I cry. I am crying for my baby brother whom I can no longer protect. I can't beat up anyone or make this go away. I am crying for my friends who are struggling so hard to find happiness. I am crying for myself, because no matter how great our news may be, the stress of these two incredibly important people supersedes any bliss I may have.
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