Never Enuff Maternal Discontents!
Feb. 11th, 2016 10:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraMax called last night. We usually talk on weekends. As soon as I heard his voice, I knew something was up. Or, rather, down.
“You said I could call anytime, so-o-o-o…,” he began.
I’m glad he called.
Nothing big. Just generalized signs of depression. Didn’t get out of bed till 12. Blew off classes to work on paper due Friday but didn’t work on paper. He was waiting for a bus, so evidently the meniscus tear is so debilitating that he’s not riding his bike.
I told him what![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
christies_world said about her boyfriend. How for three years, all he did was go to class, watch bad television, and drink.
Max laughed.
After I got off the phone, I talked to Robin, asked him to call his brother. “I know he’ll be fine in the long run, but I think he could benefit from knowing we love him, and we’re rooting for him. He’s dealing with a lot of stressors. He needs the big LUV!”
“Whoa,” said Robin. “Part of why I’ve been so scared of the idea of law school now is ‘cause Max has been so stressed over it. I really like Liza. That sucks so much.”
So anyway, I’m now trying to think of things I can do on a regular basis that will bring a smile to Max. Do I send him little gift boxes on a regular basis? Do I requisition meals to be delivered to him from neighborhood restaurants? Anything that would lighten the load a little bit.
One thing he did tell me, which I was happy about, was that he hasn’t smoked dope since our last conversation. “I don’t agree with you that it compromises my ability to think,” he said. “I don’t see any difference at all in my mental processes. But it feels good to take control of one thing, to say, ‘I’m not going to do this,’ and to stick with it.”
Max is one of those people who's superhumanly honest with other people, so I think he’s telling me the truth about that. Think.
Although he may also think parents are not really people. Most people do!
###
No other real news to report.
I’m brain-dead because conversation with Max got me so wound up that I had to take OTC sleep aids to finally drift off around 2am, and I’m super-sensitive to exogenous chemicals of all sorts. A cheap date back in the day!
Annalisa was three days late sending me her mammoth paper to proof; she wants it back by – ulp – the 14th. It’s on FDR’s Black Cabinet – not exactly a page turner.
I forced myself to go running yesterday because the temps for the next week are gonna be sub-zero with wind chill factored in.
Yeah, sure. Beautiful. But, you know. I’d rather be curled up on the couch with two five-pound sacks of peanut butter M&Ms watching The Real Housewives of the New Hampshire Primary.
However, very little of it has ever been about what I'd rather be doing.
“You said I could call anytime, so-o-o-o…,” he began.
I’m glad he called.
Nothing big. Just generalized signs of depression. Didn’t get out of bed till 12. Blew off classes to work on paper due Friday but didn’t work on paper. He was waiting for a bus, so evidently the meniscus tear is so debilitating that he’s not riding his bike.
I told him what
christies_world said about her boyfriend. How for three years, all he did was go to class, watch bad television, and drink.Max laughed.
After I got off the phone, I talked to Robin, asked him to call his brother. “I know he’ll be fine in the long run, but I think he could benefit from knowing we love him, and we’re rooting for him. He’s dealing with a lot of stressors. He needs the big LUV!”
“Whoa,” said Robin. “Part of why I’ve been so scared of the idea of law school now is ‘cause Max has been so stressed over it. I really like Liza. That sucks so much.”
So anyway, I’m now trying to think of things I can do on a regular basis that will bring a smile to Max. Do I send him little gift boxes on a regular basis? Do I requisition meals to be delivered to him from neighborhood restaurants? Anything that would lighten the load a little bit.
One thing he did tell me, which I was happy about, was that he hasn’t smoked dope since our last conversation. “I don’t agree with you that it compromises my ability to think,” he said. “I don’t see any difference at all in my mental processes. But it feels good to take control of one thing, to say, ‘I’m not going to do this,’ and to stick with it.”
Max is one of those people who's superhumanly honest with other people, so I think he’s telling me the truth about that. Think.
Although he may also think parents are not really people. Most people do!
###
No other real news to report.
I’m brain-dead because conversation with Max got me so wound up that I had to take OTC sleep aids to finally drift off around 2am, and I’m super-sensitive to exogenous chemicals of all sorts. A cheap date back in the day!
Annalisa was three days late sending me her mammoth paper to proof; she wants it back by – ulp – the 14th. It’s on FDR’s Black Cabinet – not exactly a page turner.
I forced myself to go running yesterday because the temps for the next week are gonna be sub-zero with wind chill factored in.
Yeah, sure. Beautiful. But, you know. I’d rather be curled up on the couch with two five-pound sacks of peanut butter M&Ms watching The Real Housewives of the New Hampshire Primary.
However, very little of it has ever been about what I'd rather be doing.
