Today, my uncle called me heartless. This was some time after he accused me of being logical to a fault (at which point I held up the Vulcan gang sign, and told him to, "Live long, and prosper"). The apparent reason why I'm heartless and cold is because I don't appreciate the appeal of a quilt made from decades old rags. I suppose it's an all right Christmas gift, if you're giving it to someone who is sentimental, and also a pack rat. Personally, I find the entire concept tacky, but I wasn't going to say that. He, however, had been drinking for God only knows how long, and felt he had to inquire as to my opinion on the project.
Sigh.
I hate that I have to worry about him being there/being drunk, whenever I want to go to my grandmother's house. I can't fathom why she allows him to behave the way he does, as though he is an overgrown, alcoholic child. Mayhap my maternal instinct is too out of tune, mayhap I'm as logical and as cold as he accused me of being, but to me, it makes no sense.
What's worse is that he continuously tells my grandmother how much he adores me, which I maintain is rooted in the fact that I occasionally prefer women to men in terms of attraction (he's gay), than anything else. He's perpetually reminding me that the entire family has always viewed me as the one who would make something of herself, the one who would go on to do more than roll in the mire that is Bloomington. I don't need further reminder of the fact that I remain here, despite being 23 years old.
That last fact is more an annoyance at this point than anything debilitating. In January, I'm going to speak with a Marine Corps recruiter, and from there, everything will fall into place. Every day I train toward that end, physically, at least. I need to find some way to spiritually and mentally cleanse myself. Catholicism is my first choice, but I'm not certain I have the time required to seriously undertake that theological journey. Luckily, the religion will be there when I'm out of the Corps, or even while I'm in it perhaps. I suppose this means it's time to look into other churches that are inherently challenging in their dogma and teaching.
Because that's what I want. A place where I can think, a place where I can ask questions and have someone seriously contemplate the answer. I don't think there's anything wrong with seeking that in an Abrahamic religion.
As always, I'm not sure where I stand, spiritually, at the end of the day, but I feel as though my footing is beginning to edge toward steady ground.
Sigh.
I hate that I have to worry about him being there/being drunk, whenever I want to go to my grandmother's house. I can't fathom why she allows him to behave the way he does, as though he is an overgrown, alcoholic child. Mayhap my maternal instinct is too out of tune, mayhap I'm as logical and as cold as he accused me of being, but to me, it makes no sense.
What's worse is that he continuously tells my grandmother how much he adores me, which I maintain is rooted in the fact that I occasionally prefer women to men in terms of attraction (he's gay), than anything else. He's perpetually reminding me that the entire family has always viewed me as the one who would make something of herself, the one who would go on to do more than roll in the mire that is Bloomington. I don't need further reminder of the fact that I remain here, despite being 23 years old.
That last fact is more an annoyance at this point than anything debilitating. In January, I'm going to speak with a Marine Corps recruiter, and from there, everything will fall into place. Every day I train toward that end, physically, at least. I need to find some way to spiritually and mentally cleanse myself. Catholicism is my first choice, but I'm not certain I have the time required to seriously undertake that theological journey. Luckily, the religion will be there when I'm out of the Corps, or even while I'm in it perhaps. I suppose this means it's time to look into other churches that are inherently challenging in their dogma and teaching.
Because that's what I want. A place where I can think, a place where I can ask questions and have someone seriously contemplate the answer. I don't think there's anything wrong with seeking that in an Abrahamic religion.
As always, I'm not sure where I stand, spiritually, at the end of the day, but I feel as though my footing is beginning to edge toward steady ground.
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