So. It has been a while since I have written anything here, and that's okay. I've done many things since July, including enrolling in Dr. Roper's creative fiction class for the fall term, cancelling said attendance for class, home school Ethan, work on myself, attend a funeral, had a birthday which BOTH sisters got to come visit, etc.
Another word, eventful, with good, bad, and neutral. Living in the so-called grey...
But now I am about to embark on something brand new, life-altering. The decision to go forward was an easy one to make (I will create another blog chronicling my experience) but it is all the things that come after that have been heavy on my mind today.
It's a good day for thinking. and for catching up. and for contemplating. and for deciding. and for just being.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Friday, July 25, 2014
Discomfited Me
A Decade. 10 years. 3,650 days, give or take a few.
It's been a long time since I've spoken to some of my family. A really long time. For good reasons, and yet tonight I watched a stupid movie that is bringing it all up. A movie about what happens if you can't remember why you made the choice in the first place and what happens when you do remember. Do you "kiss and make up" - and I don't necessarily mean it in a romantic sense - or do you draw the line in the sand, AGAIN?
People often advise: forget and forgive! That's what second chances are for; what would you do if so-and-so died today? The list goes on. The problem with these questions is that there are rarely any clear-cut answers, and the advice so easily given is much harder to accept when in the reverse situation.
My husband is out of town this week and I am home with the kids. As I watched my movie they ran and played happily outside. I was by myself, pondering my family, and lonely.
I do not want to reconnect with the people I have put literal time and distance from. I may want to one day, but not today, not tonight. But seeing stupid movies doesn't ease the bitterness of years and days gone by, of the good memories and the bad. Tonight I am still certain of my choices, but discomfited nonetheless. It feels like wearing your favorite sweat pants, the ones you practically live in, but find they are a little too tight after a huge meal, and it's a little uncomfortable.
It's been a long time since I've spoken to some of my family. A really long time. For good reasons, and yet tonight I watched a stupid movie that is bringing it all up. A movie about what happens if you can't remember why you made the choice in the first place and what happens when you do remember. Do you "kiss and make up" - and I don't necessarily mean it in a romantic sense - or do you draw the line in the sand, AGAIN?
People often advise: forget and forgive! That's what second chances are for; what would you do if so-and-so died today? The list goes on. The problem with these questions is that there are rarely any clear-cut answers, and the advice so easily given is much harder to accept when in the reverse situation.
My husband is out of town this week and I am home with the kids. As I watched my movie they ran and played happily outside. I was by myself, pondering my family, and lonely.
I do not want to reconnect with the people I have put literal time and distance from. I may want to one day, but not today, not tonight. But seeing stupid movies doesn't ease the bitterness of years and days gone by, of the good memories and the bad. Tonight I am still certain of my choices, but discomfited nonetheless. It feels like wearing your favorite sweat pants, the ones you practically live in, but find they are a little too tight after a huge meal, and it's a little uncomfortable.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
The Ugly Truth
I'm jealous of someone, and if others knew this fact, or heaven help the person I'm speaking of, I think everyone would revolt. Our maybe they would just be revolted. You see, I'm jealous of a woman who lost her child a year ago. I have felt nothing but grief for this person; and yet my family has been cast out because this person doesn't think I cared enough. I have gone through so many emotions. I get sad, then angry, then guilty and now jealous. There is nothing rational about my emotions, and I get that. Oh yeah - I forgot to mention how alone all this makes me. Alone and crazy.
She loses her child and kicks me out of her life. She has everyone else's sympathy. No one will this matter which ostracizes me even further. Fast forward. Now they are trying to adopt. I want them to be happy, I do, but I created this blog to have a place where I could be honest. They started a campaign to raise money and they are half way there. I want another baby myself, so bad, and yet it is way more likely than not that I will be able to. I don't have the money for a tubal reversal surgery, and no 'quick' way, i.e. Family, loans, etc. to make it happen. But this person, who has suffered such a loss, has been able to raise twice the amount I would need for my procedure. I want then to be happy, feel whole and have a family of their own. I would also like to be a future part of their extended family. But I am jealous.
I have no where to take these stupid feelings of mine. I have no way of getting what I want. I am so sad and confused. As I write this, I truly do feel like terrible me, but this time the shameful, unhappy kind.
This blogger is in a different set of circumstances, or was, but her words match how I feel:
http://www.thehappiestsad.com/2011/03/jealousy.html?m=1
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Why "A Terrible Me"?
So when I told my husband about the new blog I started and what I called it, he was very perplexed. He did not understand why I would call it "a terrible me." He thought that it was very shaming. I thought about that. I do, after all, have self esteem issues. I do have trouble with shame and fear. And as I tried to reassure him that I did not mean it in a shame-way, I pondered my choice of words. They were very intentional.
I suppose part of the reason is that the 'title' and 'sub-title' of my blog go together: a terrible me [who is trying] to see past the [crime that is] perfect[ion]. Isn't that MUCH clearer?!
But it is true. My counselor once told me that perfectionism comes from a place of shame, and I believe her. When we try so hard to be perfect, it is because we are ashamed we are not. I give up on things that are "too hard" because I am afraid they will not be perfect. I give up before I have even tried. THAT is shame. Not calling myself 'terrible.'
By calling myself terrible, I am allowing for the possibility of it. By saying, "It is okay to be terrible," I am actually trying to say, "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You give your best. You make mistakes. But most importantly, you try." All of this is just me trying.
It has been several days since I last wrote and since I posted a picture of my dirty living room. And you wanna know what? I got it spotless and messy several times since then. Same with the kitchen and the bathroom. No such luck on my room or the boys' room. But that is okay. For those days, I tried, and today I will try again. I am actually up earlier than I have been since I quit working. I forget that I am a closet morning person. There is nothing I like more than sleeping in, but the peace and quiet that the morning brings, and the sense of having so much time to accomplish so many things is a very hopeful feeling. So today I start here, with my words, and I move on to dishes and trash. And then I will give my boys much-deserved attention, and then maybe I'll get a nap. A hard earned one!
I was looking for a great image to add to my post and I found this - both the image and the link. Check it out - a fantastic post about one person's goal to challenge herself, but she so deliciously sums up in a paragraph everything I wanted to say. Not about running, per se, but that is super inspirational as well.
I suppose part of the reason is that the 'title' and 'sub-title' of my blog go together: a terrible me [who is trying] to see past the [crime that is] perfect[ion]. Isn't that MUCH clearer?!
But it is true. My counselor once told me that perfectionism comes from a place of shame, and I believe her. When we try so hard to be perfect, it is because we are ashamed we are not. I give up on things that are "too hard" because I am afraid they will not be perfect. I give up before I have even tried. THAT is shame. Not calling myself 'terrible.'
By calling myself terrible, I am allowing for the possibility of it. By saying, "It is okay to be terrible," I am actually trying to say, "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You give your best. You make mistakes. But most importantly, you try." All of this is just me trying.
It has been several days since I last wrote and since I posted a picture of my dirty living room. And you wanna know what? I got it spotless and messy several times since then. Same with the kitchen and the bathroom. No such luck on my room or the boys' room. But that is okay. For those days, I tried, and today I will try again. I am actually up earlier than I have been since I quit working. I forget that I am a closet morning person. There is nothing I like more than sleeping in, but the peace and quiet that the morning brings, and the sense of having so much time to accomplish so many things is a very hopeful feeling. So today I start here, with my words, and I move on to dishes and trash. And then I will give my boys much-deserved attention, and then maybe I'll get a nap. A hard earned one!
I was looking for a great image to add to my post and I found this - both the image and the link. Check it out - a fantastic post about one person's goal to challenge herself, but she so deliciously sums up in a paragraph everything I wanted to say. Not about running, per se, but that is super inspirational as well.
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| Suppose Anything Goes: On Being a (Terrible) Runner |
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
To Change or Not To Change...
...That is the question.
It's a brand new day and a brand new way to explore me. As I sit and ponder what exactly I want to say, I can look around my house and see all the things that I want to change. Well, my house is the most obvious. Laundry needs to be done. Dishes need to be washed. Toys need to be put away. Most people would probably say, "Yeah, yeah - me too," but my need to "do" extends beyond those surface things. I need to wash walls - fresh paint if my apartment will let me. I need to scrub the floors and pray for a miracle for my carpets. Too many spills and too many "I'll-get-that-later."
But my living space is just one thing. I am starting this blog for several reasons. I want to keep myself accountable by logging what it is I do - or not do. I want this to be a time to stop and reflect. I want this to be a dialogue with myself that maybe one day other readers can relate to. It seems so easy to say things like "I want to change the world" but I am finding it hardest of all to change myself. I want to change the way I respect my living space. I want to change my weight and respect my body. I want to change how I interact with my family and learn to be more authentic and kinder. I want to change my approach to creativity (though that is a dedicated topic on my other blog). So you can see there are many, many things I want to change. And I'll be honest. I have no idea how to do all of this, or where to start.
So I start with my words, with my DESIRE to change. I start with picking up the laundry because that is easier than picking up the soul. My hope is that as I pick up one sock at a time it will have a ripple effect in my life.
I am going to be brutally honest here. In a world of social media where we post pretty pictures of ourselves and gloss over the messy in our lives, I want to be real. Like, really real. I hope others will not judge me as harshly as I judge me, which brings me to the change I ultimately want to see in myself.
It's a brand new day and a brand new way to explore me. As I sit and ponder what exactly I want to say, I can look around my house and see all the things that I want to change. Well, my house is the most obvious. Laundry needs to be done. Dishes need to be washed. Toys need to be put away. Most people would probably say, "Yeah, yeah - me too," but my need to "do" extends beyond those surface things. I need to wash walls - fresh paint if my apartment will let me. I need to scrub the floors and pray for a miracle for my carpets. Too many spills and too many "I'll-get-that-later."
But my living space is just one thing. I am starting this blog for several reasons. I want to keep myself accountable by logging what it is I do - or not do. I want this to be a time to stop and reflect. I want this to be a dialogue with myself that maybe one day other readers can relate to. It seems so easy to say things like "I want to change the world" but I am finding it hardest of all to change myself. I want to change the way I respect my living space. I want to change my weight and respect my body. I want to change how I interact with my family and learn to be more authentic and kinder. I want to change my approach to creativity (though that is a dedicated topic on my other blog). So you can see there are many, many things I want to change. And I'll be honest. I have no idea how to do all of this, or where to start.
So I start with my words, with my DESIRE to change. I start with picking up the laundry because that is easier than picking up the soul. My hope is that as I pick up one sock at a time it will have a ripple effect in my life.
I am going to be brutally honest here. In a world of social media where we post pretty pictures of ourselves and gloss over the messy in our lives, I want to be real. Like, really real. I hope others will not judge me as harshly as I judge me, which brings me to the change I ultimately want to see in myself.
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