Sesame Street Songs & Leaving Home

[eredien]

I have always loved Sesame Street and the Muppets; when I was young, for the fact that the characters sang and tried to love each other, and then later, for the amazing technological feat and labor of love that is puppetry on a show going on 30 years, and even more for the fact that the characters tried to love each other, which is definitely a labor of love.

I wish I could leave home without causing trauma to my parents and making them feel like I'm abandoning them on Chistmas--for my flight, you see, leaves at 4 am Christmas Day.

I told my mother I'd made up my mind. "Another few months won't hurt," she said (sometimes I wish I wasn't so good at pretending I wasn't in pain, I thought then), "but we'd be happy to drive you. Well, not happy really, but we'll drive you."

I want to try to love them.

Who, after all, leaves their family at Christmas? It really says something about you and your relationship with the people you leave, and with the people you leave to go to, when you leave the ones who love you at Christmas. Something I wish I didn't have to say.

I wish my mother, especially, understood that I don't hate her or my family, but this is something I need to do for myself. I wish she understood that I understand what a chance I am taking, and how dangerous it will be, and how I am potentially throwing something away I will want later, and how I really do need health insurance and I just set myself six months back from getting any coverage again.

I wish she could understand that I have listened to her advice, and the advice of my dad, and weighed it, and then made a decision on whether I was going to listen to it, as I do with the advice of all of my friends--and as I hope you do to my advice. It was hard for me to force myself to listen to it with even that much objectivity, but I wanted to give it a fair think; I owed it to myself at least, if not them as well.

In this case, I decided not to take the advice; I wish that I could both have not taken it and not hurt them.

But I really can't be here anymore, so I didn't take the advice.

And tomorrow, my plane tickets will be ordered and I give notice at my job.

And it hurt them, somehow; why do I always hurt them?


Well, I'd like to visit the moon
On a rocket ship high in the air
Yes, I'd like to visit the moon
But I don't think I'd like to live there
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I might like it for one afternoon
I don't want to live on the moon

I'd like to travel under the sea
I could meet all the fish everywhere
Yes, I'd travel under the sea
But I don't think I'd like to live there
I might stay for a day there if I had my wish
But there's not much to do when your friends are all fish
And an oyster and clam aren't real family
So I don't want to live in the sea

I'd like to visit the jungle, hear the lions roar
Go back in time and meet a dinosaur
There's so many strange places I'd like to be
But none of them permanently

So if I should visit the moon
Well, I'll dance on a moonbeam and then
I will make a wish on a star
And I'll wish I was home once again
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I may go I'll be coming home soon
'Cause I don't want to live on the moon
No, I don't want to live on the moon

Comments

[wayman.livejournal.com]

I've always liked that song. Well, since I first discovered it on Napster a few years ago, at least.

You'll go and they'll deal. Because you need to go and they need to deal. Because you've made your decision and they must accept that. It took me years and years and years before my mother would treat me as an adult capable of making my own decisions; occasionally she still doesn't. But we deal with it, and we talk, and I can tell her "I love you, Mom, but I'm very exasperated at you just now, so please lay off" when I have to, and sometimes she even does. (And other times she'll say "But please think about that thing you asked me not to talk about, ok?"...)

The only way things will get better is for you to do exactly what you're doing, and for you to only worry about you. Let them worry about them. In time, they'll catch on. *hug*

[raki.livejournal.com]

Sometimes that is necessary, if we want to grow up.

{hug}

[kirath.livejournal.com]

Good luck in your trip. *hugs*

[a4yroldfaerie.livejournal.com]

sorry I missed you online =/

And my love for muppets is great and might. Rainbow Connection often makes me cry

[daisho.livejournal.com]

The flight scheduling certainly wasn't too helpful in letting your parents get used to the idea of your going. But circumstances aren't always ideal, as I'm sure you're more than aware. The fact remains you're doing what you think is best for you -- it's unfortunate the timing is bad, but you still had to go ahead with it.

Hope it's at least fairly painless getting the tickets booked and handing in your notice. The last thing you want is a guilt-trip from your employer, too. :/

[batshua]

*hug*

I believe I can say that I know how you feel.

It may not be as extreme over here, but we're having communication and understanding issues as well at my house.

[zdenka]

Mrr. Sympathies. & my two-cents'-worth: It's your life, not theirs. No one has the right to live vicariously through another person. So do what you need to do for you.

[gaudior.livejournal.com]

I'm not going back to Wisconsin for Christmas this year.

I think you were there for this conversation-- the one where I was talking about how much I hated Christmas, and we realized that really, what I hate is Christmas with my family? Because I spend the entire time feeling out of place. Because, actually, I spend the entire time feeling that there are things I *should* be feeling-- warmth, family love, a sense of belonging, fun-- that I'm not. And I spend the entire time trying to make myself, trying to squeeze in every bit of enjoyment I can, and it's work. And it's pressure, trying to make it feel like something it isn't, because it's the Holiday, and so I should be With My Family.

Go to England. Being there with them on Christmas wouldn't feel any better than being there with them any other day of the year. You're still you, they're still them-- and, if my experience is anything to go on, you'll love and value them *much* more when you've got your own life established elsewhere. And yes, it will hurt them to have you farther away. And maybe it wouldn't be true to say that they'll be happier with you being happy than they would be to have you stay there squelching yourself being the person they want you to be-- maybe they'd rather have you there, being what they want rather than everything you have the potential to be. And it's really damn hard to say "but I don't want to be miserable for them," because saying that goes against a ton of moralities and their wishes-- neither of which is completely dismissable. But saying "I will squash everything I am down into what I see someone else as seeing me to be, and drive myself slowly (or quickly) mad," isn't easy either.

I know which of those I chose. I'm still working on it, but I think my life will have infinitely more value this way.

It's hard. But... yeah.

Love.
R.

[breimh.livejournal.com]

This is just one of the many facets of life we deal with when growing up. We move on, and our parents feel left behind.

~My~ mother still whimpers to me on the phone about 'coming home'. She gets that empty nest syndrome, with me and my sibs all out on our own, and the holidays can leave people wishing for 'happier times' when they remember all the good times but forget the problems there were, too.

I'm sure this is all it is for your parents, sweetie. I know that there are those I would wish to spend time with, while I have the chance, but I also strive to remember that they are each their own person and must lead their own lives... and make their own choices. If that means doing something that doesn't include me, then so be it. ~I~ realise that they don't care for me any less; often, people forget that and need to be told, when they're not included in someone else's plans.

Do as you plan, live your own life, and tell them... show them... you love them. They'll realise that you're growing up and becoming your own person, and while they might try to hold on at times, they'll also come to respect you (and likely brag about your 'growing up' to others) all the more.

*snugs* Have a fun and safe trip, and know you're loved and cared for deeply. Just realise that it's hard for people to let go of those they cherish, even if they don't mean to cling so tightly.

[lotusbiosm.livejournal.com]

It sucks that you're leaving on Christmas. Will it help if they know that wasn't your decision? And that it has very little to do with them and everything to do with you. (well it has to do with them, in that they won't let you be you)
I'm tempted sometimes to call your mother and tell her that you are one of the most responsible, thoughtful people I know. And that aside from the one example we discussed, there is no reason they have to think you make bad decisions. I wish I could tell both of them how much you've agonized over this, and taken into account their concerns, but that you are doing what you feel is best for you, and that nearly everyone else agrees. That if I felt the President thought as much about his decisions as you do, I'd be confident in them, even if I didn't understand them. That you are 22 and you should not still be living at home, but if you kept that job and got an apartment you would spend too long in that town, and it would crush your soul. And since you have a beautiful soul, it is unconscionable for us to let that happen.
And you do love your parents. You love them enough to want to remove yourself from a situation that makes you not like them, so that you can continue to love them.