Wednesday, June 23, 2010

To blog or not to blog

Does anyone come from a normal family?  I'm struggling this morning with the need to talk while at at the same time dealing with the usual reluctance to go anywhere near the weeds that are Too Much Information territory, especially when the TMI involves relatives and not me personally.  But I swear the family tree has enough oddballs in it that it's real hard to keep it all contained.

Actually, it's not too bad.  It's not like the family tree is loaded with criminals or perverts.  No, we've just got an over-abundance of reclusive agoraphobics.  Is there such a thing as a Garbo gene?  A "just leave me alone and let me eat my Oreos, ignore reality, and play endless games of solitaire in peace" marker on the DNA?  I've got relatives who, I swear, did not leave their homes for literally years on end.

And now the latest of those wannabe hermits:  a relative who retreated into a recliner, remote control in hand, a couple years ago and has been quietly ignoring the growing stack of mail that included the various warning notes from the bank and the county until someone physically knocked on the door to tell him, oh, by the way, your house was sold at a tax sale and the new owners take possession Monday.  As in 5 days from now.  Late last night I got a frantic call from the brother of the reality-challenged soul pleading with me to help with a last minute rescue mission.  That mission will, of course, consist primarily of hustling as much stuff as possible out of the house and into a U-Haul truck on Saturday and Sunday.  

In Macon, Georgia.  In 90+ heat.  It's going to be an interesting weekend.   

(And, yes, I'm pretty sure the dude qualifies as clinically depressed and has a desperate need to make the acquaintance of either a good therapist or some Prozac, but as long as someone is functioning well enough that he's not a danger to anyone other than himself, it's going to be hard to get the man any treatment.)

Update:  I survived.  As for the experience in general, all I can say is that whatever the 'winning' bid was at the auction, the buyers are going to be thinking they paid way too much. 


  1. I'm glad you wrote this. I have that gene, I think. My mother does. We fight it sometimes. Now that she's got health issues and no kids to make her get it, it's gotten worse. My dad worries about her.

    I hope all goes well this weekend.

    P.S. This is great writing, you know. I love your dry wit. Or is it wry humor? Either way, very good stuff.

  2. Dry or wry, either one works, although at the moment I'm leaning more towards rye (as in whiskey).

  3. I think the rye will help you get through the weekend.

    Just look at it as practice for your move?

  4. Sometimes I want to pull the covers over my head and hope the world will leave me alone, but I always feel better after a couple hours of that.

    And it also always makes me appreciate how hard it is for people like your relative who truly suffer from this disease (as opposed to ones like me who merely dabble in it.)

    Best of luck, and drink lots of water!

  5. That will indeed be a challenge - my thoughts will be with you - don't overdo and drink plenty of liquids while loading boxes. As for the hermit gene, I get that myself from time to time, but like Sue J I am able to overcome it. Sad when someone just can't seem to cope.

    We all have some oddballs in our families. My Uncle Victor (not actually a blood relative, although we have plenty of those who are odd too) never had a job. Ever. He graduated from college with a degree in philosophy but never got his Masters or PHD so he could teach. He married my aunt (my father's half-sister) and she supported him throughout their marriage. I think he was clinically depressed or bi-polar as well but he never sought treatment, much like your relative.


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