This is my first blog, and the first entry.
It’s really true. I do mostly live in pajamas. I suppose there’s more than one reason for this, and the purpose of this blog is to have a place to talk about those reasons (and a thousand other things that are waiting down bunny trails).
Pajamas are comfortable.
Pajamas are something to slip into when you need to rest and relax.
Pajamas are loose when jeans feel snug.
Pajamas are cheap to buy, and so easier to replace when they wear out.
Pajamas usually mean you’re settled in, and not going ‘out’.
I’m quirky enough that I’m functionally dysfunctional, even in pajamas. My pj’s of choice are men’s flannel pants, and whatever t-shirt I have clean and handy to wear with them. I’ve worn them over my swimsuit as a cover-up going to the beach. I’ve worn them on quick dashes into the grocery stores to grab bananas or milk (for longer trips, I usually put on black sweat pants and tennies). I live rurally, so I’ve also frequently worn pj’s on long walks down country roads.
Basically, I don’t get dressed because I wake up already dressed. I go to bed ready for bed. I just wash the pajamas and keep on living in them. Except I’m not really living, at least not in a way that is fully and truly me. There was a time when I was young, strong, feisty, attractive and brave. I never thought, never dreamed, never would have believed, that my life would come to this. That I would or could erode into a pajama wearing twilight.
Mostly, I’ve just gradually become too tired, depressed, drained, and sad, and pajamas were probably the path of least resistance. I hide from life in pajamas. I’ve been married for 35 years to a very passive aggressive man who was raised by a narcissist father, and is probably narcissistically driven himself.
At times, I think he’s a kind of identity emotional energy vampire. At other times, I think he’s charming, funny, endearing, smart, and talented. And there are also those days that I’m really not at all sure who he really is, as though I’m looking in the eyes of someone who wears masks, costumes, and reads from scripts. Those are scary and unsettling times.
We have several kids with a wide age range, from early thirties down to only twelve. The early years of parenting were really ‘us’ at our best. The tag teaming, the best smiles, hugs, and co-operative parenting to keep a tribe of energetic, creative, intelligent, and amazing kids all fed and cared for. The marriage has always been sad and painful for me, but those years of all the kids at home brought me much happiness.
Life in pajamas isn’t all bad, and things could be worse. But it could be better. I want it to be much better, and I hope this blog will help get me there. Soon, I hope that I’ll only wear pj’s at bedtime, but plan to keep the name of the blog so that I’ll never forget how it can happen.