My husband laughed at me yesterday morning. My alarm clock went off and I was so angry at this innocent alarm clock, I slammed the snooze button and cursed at it. His laughter made me laugh and, though I woke up annoyed at the fact I had to wake up, I started my day in relatively good spirits. But here’s the thing I get angry at that alarm clock every morning. It buzzes and I curse and I stumble out of my bed to feed hungry cats who meow at me and walk under my feet. And then I go to a job where I get yelled at most day because people are entitled and rude. Listen, I’ve worked a lot of Customer Service jobs in my life. I’ve dealt with a rainbow of different people, from the best to the worst. After years of constant pampering grown adults who should know how to behave, I’ve found that I don’t much like that alarm clock very much anymore. In fact, I would much prefer to just stay in my house. Is this starting to be a problem? Probably but I’ve already started this journey of making my life a better situation. This is just another part of me that is in progress.
Last Friday, I woke up in my usual angry fashion, not wanting to go to work and not feeling great but I got up. I fed those hungry baby kitties of mine and made my coffee and lunch and out the door, I went. Then, I killed a bunny (and before anyone gets upset by that nonchalant sentence, I still feel horrible about it). I cried the entire way to work and thought about that poor bunny the rest of the day. I left early that day. I just kept thinking that perhaps the world just didn’t want me to leave my house and it sacrificed that poor animal so I would stay home. I understand this mentality of not wanting to be a part of the world is a bit of a problem. I have complete comprehension that my already hermit tendency may be getting a little bit out of control. I also understand that what I do during the day doesn’t help motivate me to come out of my hole either. Dealing with people is tough and taxing and downright demoralizing sometimes. And I feel like people who work in this industry are just like that poor bunny. We’re just trying to live our lives and then we get run over by things we can’t avoid.
I’m sure I’ve talked about this before but we’ll go down this rabbit hole a little bit (pun intended). I was on Zoloft for maybe ten years of my life. I had a lot of anxiety issues because of some life events that I experienced. I wasn’t able to function without it for a long time. I was young with a small child on my own and I mentally was a mess. So, I got help. There’s nothing wrong with taking medication that is going to help you live your life. It wasn’t a high dosage, just enough to kill the edge. The Doctor always asked me if I wanted to increase it but I always said no. I didn’t want to stop feeling my life. I just wanted to stop letting my feelings stopping me from living my life. So, for ten years, I was on it but then my life started to change. I met my husband. I switched jobs. I found some stability. I learned ways of dealing with my anxiety on my own without the aid of Zoloft. That was ten years ago. For a really long time, I’ve been OK as far as that goes. I know my triggers and I understand what I have to do when I start panicking. I worked at a restaurant, waiting tables and tending bar and it was chaotic, but I was still able to control my anxiety. I’ve been really proud of myself and I don’t say that very often.
I haven’t been doing too well controlling that anxiety in the last year. I’ve felt it come back. I’ve felt the moments of panic where I don’t feel like I can breathe, where I’m going to pass out, the buzzing in my head like I’m going to explode. And far too often lately, I’ve just wanted to hide from the world. So, I sit back and try to figure out what has changed so drastically that I feel like I need to go back on Zoloft. I want to make it something clear before I go on. I am not against having that sort of help again. I believe that help is there for us for a reason and, if we’re having a hard time, get the help you need to live your best life. My thing is I worked so hard to learn how to live without it. Maybe it’s a pride thing. I don’t know. I realized that it was what I was exposing myself during the day. There are all sorts of Customer Service jobs. Each has their plus and minuses. Each can be hell to work. But this what I realized in my current situation. All day all I was hearing was negative words with negative tones. I listen all day to grown, professional people bitch about things that shouldn’t cause so much angst. Let’s be real. You don’t call a Customer Service line to tell someone you think they are really cool. You call them because you’re pissed. And I get it, guys. I get that you received something that wasn’t right and you’re pissed but take a breath. You are not the bunny I ran over. If the ghost of that bunny called, it has every right to give me hell. I’m such an empath that every emotion you feel, I feel, too. And if I hear, if I feel nothing but anger and disappointment all day, that’s what is going to stick with me. The anxiety that I have had control over for so long now has fuel to it and I feel like lately, I’m losing control. My eyes are tearing right now writing these words because this feeling sucks.
I get so angry at the alarm clock every morning because I know what is in store for me. I know it will be nothing but unhappy people who can’t understand that an actual person is on the other line who has nothing to do with their problem. Everyone, please understand the people you deal with on the phone or serving your drinks or ringing up your shampoo have nothing to do with your personal problems or with company policies in any way. I just answer the phone, man. The other week I came home and cried every day. It was such a rotten week. It was because I felt out of control like there was this giant weight was on top of me, that I was in a constant panic attack. It is so hard to function when you feel like you’re constantly under water. I’ve realized this for a while now but something clicked in my head. This is not right. I’m on this journey right now of trying to make myself, my life better. In my younger years, I would’ve thought I would just have to suck it up and work like this but I’m tired of feeling like I have to sacrifice myself. I don’t want to be a martyr anymore. I have nothing to prove and my mental health is so much more important. I can’t be a good partner to my husband if I am miserable. I can’t be a good mother to my daughter if I’m a mess. I can’t be a good friend to you if I’m terrified to leave my house. If something is not making you the best you can be, find the thing that will. I hope that bunny forgives me and I hope one morning soon I will wake up without being so angry at the buzzing sound. Maybe I’ll have to go back on Zoloft for a little while or maybe my course will change soon to a better one. I may be a work in progress until the day I die and that’s OK. As long as I keep trying….
When I was younger, I said no to a lot of things. I drew a lot of lines. I set a lot of boundaries. If I didn't want to do something, you couldn't make me even give it a side look. I wore a stern face a lot. Was it that I knew who I was? No, I had no idea. Was it that I knew what I wanted? Not in the least but I did know what I did not. I observed life around me, what it expected, what I could get away with. I had this strange confidence about me that seems almost like an alien at this point in my life. I haven't felt that sure of myself for such a long time. Don't worry. This isn't a look-back-at-how-much-better-I-was-then blog. It's more of a train of thought currently so just come along with me. We'll reach my point soon. My words always find their way. I was in the shower this morning. So often I experience the best moments of revelations in the shower. I get this weird understanding. I'm stripped down to nothing and I allow myself to take a look, to check in, to figure out some sort of balance in this raging war that I seem to be battling lately. I don't have that confidence any more but I don't think I want it back either.
The one concept I think I have lost over the years is this one of self care. There used to be this girl full of spirit and light and determination. A mountain wouldn't move her and it wasn't always a great thing to be that stubborn. It caused it's own damage. I said no to the people that tried to climb it even ones who just wanted to be my friend. I put up barricades and waged wars and threw flaming arrows to keep them at bay. I knew who I was in a way only a young, naive girl could and I wasn't allowing anyone to change that. And then someone threw a stick of dynamite at me that I didn't want and I came crumbling down. I crashed so hard. I became this landslide that I think I'm stilling cleaning up all these years later. So, instead of setting my boundaries and keeping a firm line, I just let myself go. I didn't say no to anything because what was the point? If someone wanted something, they were going to take it anyway. I ended up surrounded in this darkness where I no longer understood this concept that I was still a person. I just said yes because what did it matter anymore? So, then I was the yes person, the one who always saved the day even if it hurt myself. You need to pick up that shift? Of course. I haven't had a day off in weeks but I got you. You need me to work on the weekend? I got you. No worries. I will help you and I won't expect anything back. I learned quickly that the hand you offer is so often not returned. As long as you don't bitch about it? You're good. You're all good. It wasn't just a work environment. It was my home life. It was everything about my life. I would just let people take what they wanted because I was tired of being bulldozed, because I felt like when I tried to stand I was pushed back down anyway.
Something in me has started to change over the last few years. I feel like when I lost my father, there was a switch that was flipped. I feel like over the last four years I've been sort of drowning but I see that I am so close to breaking free from these rip tides that keep pulling me under. I am fighting this strange battle. Some days I lose more than I win but I feel like the landslide that has been me for so long is starting to build itself back up again. I never got to tell my Dad some things I needed to tell him and that's on me but in his death this regret somehow woke me up. The scars of the footprints that had walked on me started to become irritated. I made myself a tiny hill at first and I watched the world around me. I heard myself say yes and then I felt the damage that it was doing to me. So, I started to say no again. I started to stand up for myself again. I started seeing the value of standing on solid ground. I didn't want to be everyone's Yes Girl anymore. I just wanted to be me, who ever that is right now. The world started to change with me. The people that once stood there when I so easily said yes I don't see a lot of them anymore. When I drew a line, they fell off my mountain but I didn't push them off this time. I let them fall away. While I've struggled with the loss of some, I understand how important it is to let the negative I've kept with me fall away, too.
We see these memes that say, "Say Yes," more but I feel like it is taken out of context. Sure, say yes to trying that chocolate covered cricket or say yes to zip lining while you're on vacation. Say yes to as much as you want as long as it doesn't hurt you. When I was younger, I did what I wanted and I didn't much think about how anybody felt about it. Then, life taught me a lesson, knocked that chip straight off these shoulders, and I became that landslide. I went from saying no to everything (unless it my idea) to saying yes to anything. Both were so incredibly harmful to me but I couldn't see it. I liked being the king of my own kingdom but then when my crown was knocked off, I just became this sad, pathetic peasant that somehow needed the world's approval. I've been shut down for a long time. I married my husband, this beautiful gem of a man, because for whatever reason he was the one person who was able to swim through that landslide and find me. To this day, I feel like he's the only one who really sees me because most days I just feel like a ghost to the rest of the world. But I want to change that and I'm working on it. I want to say yes because I want to say yes, not because there will be repercussions if I don't. And I want to say no because what you're asking is not good for me and I need to draw that line of what I will tolerate. We don't have to be afraid of being good to ourselves. I can love you and I can love me. I just wish I would've figured that out a long time ago.
There has been so many changes in my life in the last year. I think about where I was a year ago and it's seems so far away. In some ways, I feel like I've found my bearings a little better. In another, I feel completely off center. I'm navigating my way through a world where my role has changed. My kid left about two weeks ago. She packed up her bags and ran off to Montana for adventure. It was such an 18 year old thing to do. I was not a fan of this but I understand it. I understand that need to get out, to experience, to try. I made the choice to not do that when I was young I guess in a way there is a part of me that is jealous of her, of her bravery, of her let's just do this attitude. That used to be a long time ago but somewhere along this life I decided to slip back into the shadows, to hide. When you have kids, it's so easy to forget you're a person, too. It's so easy to put everyone in front of you. Somehow keeping a clean house becomes your top priority. Somewhere between packing lunches and reading bed time stories and picking up toys left behind from the day consumes any energy you have for yourself. So, I became someone's mother and that was that.
A year ago, I had a kid who was about to start her senior year. I was working as a bartender, not really struggling for money at least not the way we are now. I was trying to figure out my life, the next best step, realizing my kid was about to find her wings and fly away. This idea that I would no longer have a kid under my roof was becoming more than something that would happen years from now. It was about to be now. So what then for me? So, I quit my job as a bartender and I got a job that I thought was going project me into the greatest of heights. One year later and I cry more often than I have in a long time. One year later and my nest is empty. One year later I am a 40 year old woman while sure of everything she is not, is having a real hard time figuring out who I am. Life happens in the strangest of ways sometimes. While I feel like my ground is a little bit rocky right now, I know that every step has had it's purpose. I was not supposed to stay behind that bar and I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be sitting behind a desk either. I am meant to be her mother but I was also meant to let whoever is sitting here stand up, too.
I feel like most of my life I've been hiding so much of myself. This idea is one of the blogs that didn't get written earlier this week. This idea that I have had to hide both my dark, depressive side and the hope that has been this light that keeps me going. I feel like people have always tried to put me in this place, fit me into the corner that they want me to sit. I've always preferred my own so that's where I've been, hiding and being whatever fit the situation because it was easier. There is a sadness that I carry around, that I have always carried around. It didn't form because the assault that happened when I was 18. That just amplified the darkness that was already there. Sometimes sadness doesn't come from an event that happened. Sometimes you just have it. I learned, however, that this sad, lonely side of me wasn't one that people wanted to be around but showing my hopeful, euphoric side almost felt too fake. Why? Because people couldn't deal with the fact that I was both. For most of my life, I've hid what I felt, never said a word about it. I sighed heavily and walked away. It just was too much work to try to explain both. As my life has gone by, I've realized that not many people want to take the time to listen anyway.
One year ago, I felt like I was a bit more stable but I was unhappy. One year later, my foundation has been rocked but I feel like I am so close to figuring out how to balance myself. My child has found her wings and is currently in flight, leaving me here on the ground to watch her soar. It is a fact of life. Children leave their parents behind but I don't have to be left behind. I can fly, too. I don't have to put her in front of me anymore because she doesn't need me to. I don't have to sacrifice my time, my energy. I need me now and, for the first time in my life, I don't feel guilty writing those words. I'm done hiding, done placating to everyone around me. One year ago, I gave so much of myself to so many things that, looking back now, didn't really value me at all. That's on me. I should have drawn that line. I should have made it very clear that I was worth more or even as much as you. I'm at this job now where they ask a lot and I get it. It is the nature of the job, of any job really. Last week I came home and cried every night. I looked in the mirror with my red eyes and had an epiphany. I was done. I wiped my tears, gave myself a hug, told myself that allowing myself to feel this was OK. This was healthy to allow myself to feel, to digest, to let it out. I am done hiding. One year ago, I still felt like I had to. I guess I'm doing better than I thought, right? I will always be lonely and sad but it makes the hope, the love in me shine that much brighter. We are all light and we are all dark. Without the other, we just exist and life has to be about more than merely existing.
I didn't realize how many changes were going to happen this year. I don't know if this is usually what happens when you start your forties but it's been a hell of a start to a decade. This blog is going to be kind of all over the place. There's been a lot that's going on. In so many ways, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. I've gotten better with change over the years. There was a time in my life where it would have made me shut down completely. I don't know. The older I've gotten, the more I've wanted it. I've wanted to grow and evolve and make things better. My anxiety doesn't get triggered by my routine altering. It is more of not having a plan (or several) if things go wrong. I look back at the last few years and I just don't know where I went. I got wrapped up in these things about me that don't matter. I worked a job for a long time that I allowed the people around me to determine who I was. I went to another thinking that I would find some sort of direction. As much as I do not like my current position, it has made it very clear my direction. I don't want who I am to be determined by anyone else other than me. I don't want my worth to be measured by how many birthday wishes I do or don't get. My phone can stay silent and you know I'm OK with it. I'm in my forties now and there's a whole lot of life out there for me to live.
This week my daughter decided to move to Montana on a whim. I will tread lightly here because I've got a lot of mixed feelings about this. I've raised a hell of a kid, strong willed and sporadic and intelligent. She can do anything she wants when she puts her mind to it. To be very honest, not a huge fan of this current plan she has. I told her as much but here's the thing. I look at my parents. They were so very Catholic, so very Republican, so very clear on what they expected out of us. They gave us this amazing foundation to stand on as adults because they put those bricks, those sturdy bricks under our feet. When we fell, we got back up every time and that's attributed to a lot to them. So, I look at this kid of mine. The last few years have been rough, tiresome, frustrating for all parties involved. There were times I just didn't know who she was. I tried so hard to give her some sort of boundaries but every thing I tried just pushed us each other away more. And then she turned 18. I remember my parents at 18 and I remember my mother looking at me and telling me I was on my own. I was an adult and I was on my own. She never did my laundry again. I was never given a curfew or rules or punishments even when I was being obnoxious. They let me go to succeed, to fail, to merely exist on my own terms. I think maybe I resented them for a minute but not for long. Once I accepted this life was on my terms, I was OK. I figured it out. She's 18 now and I cannot tell her what to do. I won't tell her what to do. I won't agree with her decisions. I will always want her to maybe think about things a little bit more but I can't stop her. I laid those bricks down. At this point all I can do is hope they won't crack.
So, now I'm 40 and my kid has moved out. It's just me and my husband and my cats in an apartment that is too big for us. I get to experience this brand new era of my life where my responsibilities are fewer. I can sit and write a blog with all the time in the world. I can go have a drink on Thursday night if I want or go to bed at 6 pm if I like. I can focus my time on myself, on my writing and my art, on my husband, on our relationship as a married couple without a child to worry about in the mix. True, my daughter has been doing her own thing more and more since she's gotten older but not having to check to see if she'll be home at night or if she's eating dinner with us has been nice. I love my kid but it's been nice not walking on egg shells in my own house. This is going to sound corny and I hate to even do it but I feel like I'm starting my second life. This is the chance to do all the things I did not do before. And you know what the great thing about it is? I'm not a dumb 20 year old kid who doesn't know what the fuck she's doing when I'm doing those things. I understand more every day who I am and what demons I need to exercise. Honestly, over the last few years for as tough as they have been have taught me exactly who I am. Maybe it's been watching this kid struggle to find her feet that helped me find mine because every time I looked at her, I saw a little bit of me. The more she fought me, the more I finally understood these flaws I carried. The nice thing was realizing I could put them down. I didn't need to carry them because none of them matter. I'm a 40 year old woman and I don't have to be scared of me anymore.
I wrote my last blog out of hurt. I turned 40 and so many people didn't remember. I went back and read it. I went back to that girl who I keep in my little corner and we talked for awhile. I've spent the last 22 years keeping her there, protecting her from this world. I didn't want her to have to deal with the darkness that I carried. After all these years, I forgot she was not a different person, this other personality of me that I kept hidden. She was me, the truest, most beautiful and vulnerable me. I put her away a long time ago. I was mean for years and then I was too kind for many more and she was right there. I was just too scared to put her skin on because what if this world tore her apart again? So, I watch my kid and I sit at this table with this me and I laugh. What I see is me before the world taught me a few lessons. I read the blog about the birthday wishes and I think how silly because I realize I'm not a dumb kid in my twenties whose worth depends on how often my phone rings. My worth is what I decide it to be. I sat at that table in the corner with myself and I offered her my hand. I said it's about time we step out of this dark corner, isn't it? There's been so many changes this year. It's time I went back to my roots, to let that beautiful girl that I've hid away become a woman, too. I'm 40 years old and for the first time I feel the sun on my face.
I want to be honest before I start. I had a disappointing birthday where a lot of people let me down (but mad props to the amazing people who didn't). I have some aggravation that may lie in my undertones but I don't apologize for being honest. It's so easy to make friends when you're young. I mean you're stuck with the same people every day. You can't stray too far. For years, you go to school with these people. For years, your close quarters inspires kin ships but the test always come when our school days are over and we're all spit out into the world. Is that person who sat next to you at lunch still sitting at your table? Probably not (but if they are, appreciate each other). So, then you get a job and you become friends with the people who you work with because, again, these are the people you see every day. These are the people that you see sometimes more than your family. And then you make a career change and what happens? Most fade away.
I guess this last week I've been thinking really hard about the relationships in my life, who is real and important and whose faded away. I've thought about who has made the effort and who disappeared when I blinked. When I was in school, I had a lot of friends. I really thought our friendships were going to last but 20 years later, I've got one from those days. She's amazing and I couldn't have made it through some very hard years without her. I hope she knows that when I think of what a true friend is, it's her face I will always see. And, listen, it's cool that I'm not friends with people back from my child age. That is not my point. My point is that friendships take work as adults. They take time and effort from both sides. I felt pretty hurt when I didn't hear from the people I thought I would. My husband told me that I should shrug it off and, as the week has gone on, I have a little more. By writing these words today, I'm letting it go. I'm letting a lot of things go.
Every day I find it harder and harder to tolerate so much of this world, so many pretend things. I look at so many relationships in my life and realize that most of them are empty. I realize how very few people reach out. And, I completely own that maybe I don't reach out as much as I should. It just feels like every time I try, I get shooed away like a fly.... and I'm tired. I don't want to be a friendship kept out of obligation. It wasn't that so many people remained silent last weekend that hurt. It was that the wizard was revealed from behind the curtain and I became so disappointed in what I saw. My daughter once told me that I was mean when she was younger and it always makes me laugh. I wasn't mean. I just stood up for myself far better than I do today. Even writing this blog, I'm terrified that I'm going to hurt someone's feelings. So much of me has been put to the side because I don't want to ruffle your feathers but it's cool if you want to pluck mine out. My feelings were hurt so badly because of people's forgotten birthday wishes that as I write that I feel silly. My husband says to me often that I need to say what I feel more. If someone makes me mad, tell them. If someone hurts my feelings, tell them. If someone tries to put this baby in the corner, throw rocks at them. Once upon a time, I did all of those things. It's not that I became soft. I just got tired. Funny how a simple forgotten something can make you remember you're strength. My journey continues and, somewhere in this skin, I am a star ready to shine without fear of how my light might hurt the world's eyes.
I am turning 40 on Saturday, this strange number that doesn't seem right. I feel like I haven't been in this world that long most days though there are days that have made me feel like I've been here forever. Life and time can be so relative but I don't want to write a blog today about my regrets. I've had plenty. I want to write a blog today about today. We don't always have to look backwards to learn our lessons. And we don't always have to look forward to give ourselves value. Sometimes we can stop, take a minute, and let today sink in. I left work early today because there wasn't a lot to do. I'm good with that. It allows me this time to myself while the husband and kid are at work to sit here, in this moment, listening to Simon and Garfunkel's "Flowers Never Bend". It allows me time to be still. So often we get all wound up when our birthdays come around. We start thinking about if this where we wanted to be. We become so hard on ourselves when we're not where we want to be at all. So, then we barrade ourselves into making all these plans, these promises of all the things we're going to change. But you know what? So often we're just blowing smoke up on our own ass (pardon my french). I don't mean to be crude. Birthdays are just like New Year's. We see all the things we need to change but forget to appreciate what we are right now. Right now is just as beautiful as yesterday and can be just as bright as tomorrow.
Let's break my right now down. I will be honest, as honest as I can be. I am not where I want to be. I don't have the job I want. I don't have the financial stability I want. I don't have a lot of things I want. I constantly have a feeling of boredom and wanting just more. I don't see my friends enough. I don't see my family enough. I am exhausted most of the time but not because I do anything that exciting. I'm exhausted because too much of my life hurts and feels like a struggle. The inner demons that bounce around my head kick my ass on a daily basis. Some days it takes everything I got to get out of bed. I mean everything. I wish my kid would clean up after herself. I wish my husband would get that full time. I wish my art work would sell. I feel like my life is an uphill battle. As soon as I conquer one rock slide, a mud slide comes right behind it. I feel like I am suffocating. I had some dental work done last week. For the last four years, I haven't smiled, not in a way I would allow you to see. I kept my mouth closed as tightly as I could and I trained my hands to cover my face when I laughed or cried or screamed and especially when I smiled. I was embarrassed by what was happening in there. And though people have been kind to tell me they did not notice, I did. I did so much. And for the last four years, I struggled to deal with it because I never want to be a bother. I never want my life to be a bother to anyone else and that is a hard burden to carry but I do and I will and I doubt that will ever change.
I didn't go down that rabbit hole because I want pity. I went down it because at 40 I am not where I want to be but it doesn't matter. Right now, right now in this moment, I am where I need to be. I remember sitting in that dentist chair after they had removed my cyst and asking in my numbed, groggy state if it was gone. And I remember I instantly cried because I was so happy (and then almost choked on the suck-age cup). In that moment, I knew I could smile again without shame and without fear that the person sitting next to me would judge. I am not a vain person but not being able to smile leaves a hole in your heart. I didn't know how much I missed it until it came back. And every moment since that day, I cherish the moments that have followed. I can look at my job and understand that it is just a pit stop. This moment won't last. I can appreciate the lessons we have learned dealing with a lower income, the ways we have learned to save and survive and appreciate each other. I can stop and look at my 18 year old daughter and love this time of her life because it will be gone before we both know it. My husband will become something even better than he is right now and one day I will make a living doing what I love. Those things are just not right now.
What is right now is me sitting here on a Thursday afternoon while the sun shines bright outside and Meatloaf sings to me that he would do anything for love. What I see right now are two napping kitties and Christmas lights that I refuse to take down in my living room. I am turning 40 and maybe parts of my life still feel a little off. I don't dress like I should. My sense of humor is too dark for some. And honestly life is just funny. We live our lives, striving for all these different things and never appreciating what is right in front of us. I hope that when my time to fly comes I will remember all of these moments sitting in a corner, writing or drawing, wondering when it will happen for me. I hope I will never forget how important it is to be humble and kind. It is so easy to get swept away. It is so easy to forget who we are because we change so often. And right now, maybe I'm not fond of all my surroundings. But right now? I am really loving this version of who I am. My twenties were a daze. My thirties have been a challenging pleasure. My forties? I'll figure that version out tomorrow.
I am an over thinker. I analyze everything no matter how big or small. If I find flaws in the world around me, I tend to find what I am doing wrong first rather then put the blame on someone else first even if it is clearly not of my doing. I've had to learn how to handle my life better especially as my daughter has gotten older. And as parents, we put so much of their mistakes on us. We think if we could have taught them better or helped more or done something differently, maybe we could have saved them some pain. Because let's be honest. We don't want our kids to make the same mistakes that we did. If we can help them avoid that hurt, why not help them navigate better then we did? So we take notes of every choice we made for them, take stock of every decision, and then hold it against ourselves as they grow. We find ways to blame ourselves for the bad choices they make because we don't want to let them fall as hard as we did. I watch my kid navigate her way through this brand new world and I hold my breath every time she walks out that door. I know the world that is out there and it still terrifies me to leave my house some days. I've had to learn to trust the foundation I gave her even if I think maybe I didn't make it sturdy enough. I've had to trust that if she falls, she'll figure out how to get back up just like I did, just like my parents trusted for me.
As kids, we hold our parents up to these unbelievably high standards. That pedastool is so high that maybe we set up our parents up for failure. As kids, we think they can do no wrong but when they do we don't have the capacity to understand they are humans just like us. At some point in their lives, they were kids, too, with hopes and dreams and goals. We don't understand that sometimes having kids changes our parents' lives so much that we alter their dreams, their hopes. We love our children. They are beautiful and amazing and bring so much joy to our lives but there is a reality that we also lose a little bit of ourselves when we choose to have them, too. It is not a bad thing. Please don't take this as any declaration of regret for having my own. I look at my mother, this amazing kind and wonderful person, and I watch her find who she is after she gave her life to us. I came from this strong woman that gave us so many years of her life without blinking, not once asking anything for herself. As I get older, the more of her I see in me where I thought I was always more like my father. I got the best of both worlds, I think. She's raised her kids. She has no more obligation to us other than to just continue to be a great Mom. And I look at my kid, now legally an adult. Where I was once scared of having an empty nest, I get more excited for my own journey.
I've spent pretty much my entire adult life as someone's mother. Again I am so happy that life decided that I would be the mother to this kid. She has been an inspiration to me, a form of strength I never knew I had, an avenue to become a better person. She has taught me so many things in this world that I wouldn't have known without her. The struggles, the tears, the not knowing what the hell I was doing was worth every second for that little girl to be in this world. But now a new chapter is starting. It's her time to go into this world and learn those lessons that I did so many years ago and I have to be OK when she falls down because she will, many times to come. I will forever blame myself for the mistakes I made with her. I will always worry that I didn't do enough for her, that I didn't work hard enough for her, that I wasn't there for her as well as I could have been. I will always think that I made these mistakes and that I somehow messed up her entire life. But here's the thing I think we, as parents, need to do. I think we just need to cut ourselves a break. Good parents are going to make mistakes. We're not always going to know what to do or how to fix things no matter how old our kids get. There will always be things that, as adults, our kids can blame us for. But, listen, it's healthy to take accountability for what we do wrong. We don't have to beat ourselves up so badly either. There have been two things I've wanted for my kid. I've wanted her to grow up to be a kind person and to just find her happiness. And I think at the end of the day, isn't that we want?
I had a good childhood because my parents loved us enough to provide that for us. We had shoes on our feet, food in our bellies, a place to lay our head at night. They provided us with a solid education and gave us opportunities even if we weren't smart enough to see some of them. I grew up with laughter and smiles and jokes about poop at the dinner table. It wasn't fancy. I wore hand me down clothes and I fought with my siblings and we moved a couple times but it was a good childhood. I can look back at it and appreciate all of those things they gave us. If I was missing anything, it was just me being a brat. And, sure, my parents made some mistakes but, as adults, we can let those go. I grew up strong and very much in my own way. My mother was smart enough to understand that was just how I was going to be, her stubborn and unusual child. I was going to find my own way through this life. And I remember during that very rough time in my life, I was angry at them, so angry. What I didn't, couldn't see is that they were two humans who just didn't know what to do for me. I pushed them away. They didn't abandon me. I guess I didn't really understand my parents until I became one myself. I wish I had a lot sooner in my life. I wish I had known all the sacrifices my mother made for us when I was younger and I wish I could have helped her more. And I hope my father knows up there in heaven that I love how he taught me to dream, how to believe that impossibles can happen even if these days my life feels like a struggle bus. Mother's Day is coming and maybe this blog is a few weeks early but we should tell our parents more often how grateful we are for them. My mother, this amazing woman who doesn't want the praise, deserves to know how beautiful her spirit truly is. I can only hope to be just like her one day.
It is hard to understand, to see something clearly but not exactly know how to get there. I always know what to do. I've never had that many doubts about the things I have to do in this life. I don't question what I want or second guess my destination. Where I seem to have the problem is allowing so many things get in my way. I focus on the in between when really I just need to keep my head forward. My feet will eventually follow. I don't want to write another blog about my life isn't quite working in the moment. Sure, I do not like my daily routine, the phone calls I have to answer, the feeling like I'm wasting so much time on all these things that don't really matter. They don't but me writing a blog week after week about how my current status is a drag isn't really going to change my seat. It feels like I'm in this game of musical chairs but no matter what seat I take it still won't be where I want to sit. Why? Because I don't want to sit any more. I want to stand and dance and laugh and live my life with this fire that I've been terrified of most my adult life. I want to live, not slowly fade or rot. What a perfectly good waste of a soul, right?
And I guess this week some stuff has happened to make me look at myself with some confusion. I suffer from anxiety and depression. I've carried these things with me most of my life and they are heavy, sure. Some mornings I want to lay in that bed and never get out of it. Some nights I lock myself in the bathroom and cry for a long time because this life hurts. It does and I'm not going to sugar coat that. It just hurts me a lot but I won't talk to you about it. I won't sit down and explore that with anyone because it is my battle, my war to win... and every day I get out of that bed, every night that I come out of that bathroom I win a little more. I know that I am not alone in this world. I know there are people who root for me and I love them dearly. I have so many in my corner, cheering me on, some not even knowing what they are cheering me on for. But this life is for me to figure out because I can't digest fully if you figure it out for me. That drive to stand on my own is what has kept me going this long. And though I understand the power of help, I only ask when necessary. Right now, I won't lie. I feel like I'm down on one knee but I won't stay here much longer.
This week like so many other weeks in this life struggle of mine has taught me some lessons. My husband was diagnosed with early Type 2 Diabetes. My brain does this thing where it thinks of the worst case scenarios. That is my first reaction. He tells me in the middle of the day while I'm at work and it was this downhill run from there. I thought that he was going to die, that I was going to lose him. I started thinking about insulin and needles and made him bed ridden. I started thinking about his funeral and just kept going down this very dark rabbit hole. That's what I do. You don't call me, I think you hate me. My kid doesn't text me back, she's in a ditch somewhere. My back hurts and I have cancer. I expect the worst because if it is not the worst, then we're OK... but it's silly. I make my own life so much more complicated. I get it. I am the one that leans into the dark, that allows myself to go down these paths when I don't really have to. He went to the doctor and the situation is not great and we're going to have to make a lot of life changes but I don't have to buy that coffin just yet. (Dark humor is how I deal. No malice intended).
And that's what this week has taught me. This darkness that I fight doesn't have to be my every day. I don't have to look at my husband and feel like we're on borrowed time. I don't have to answer those phones and allow that toxic vibe determine the joy in my life. It's OK that I don't want to get out of bed in the morning just as long as I get up. And I'm not ashamed that every now and then I lock myself in that bathroom and cry until my eyes hurt. My soul has a right to let it out. This world, this life will always hurt. I don't have to be afraid of that hurt. Because the silver lining in that hurt? I know how to love and I don't have to be scared of that either. Parts of my life are a drag but nothing I can't fix. I sat down at my desk after he texted me the news and I laughed. The phone rang and I remember thinking none of this matters. I am going to answer that phone and someone is going to complain to me about a something that means nothing but I will answer the phone. I will answer until life presents me with window (jumping out at the slightest of cracks). I'm on one knee right now but my head is starting to look up. It's only a matter of time. This blog isn't a woe is me thing. It's an about damn time declaration.
For most of my life, I have been terrified of dropping the ball, of making one mistake and screwing everything that comes after. I looked at my daughter when she was born, so scared of this tiny girl because of all the mistakes I saw myself already making. So much of my life has been wasted on not pushing myself in fear of letting myself down. It wasn't necessarily failure that scared me. It was this idea that the struggle would just keep going and I would have no reprieve. This cycle would just keep repeating itself. I will end up always hand to mouth, always with a dream just out of reach because I can't take a leap. Lately, I've found myself falling again, feeling like I'm going down this rabbit hole of feeling like no matter what I do, it will not get better. I feel myself swallowing myself again because it is easier to retreat into this darkness instead of clawing myself out once again. So much of this life is spent climbing mountains only to fall back down to get back up to fall down to get back...
If I'm being brutally honest, I'm burnt out, completely and utterly burnt to a crisp. I have so much desire to make these words sing, to make my lines dance but I get so exhausted by all the other things that bang around this head. I go to work every day, listen to people yell at me for things that don't really matter, making money that barely pays the bills. I am so mentally drained at the end of the day, so empty where all I want to do is crawl into my bed under my covers and not come out. I feel all these warning signs that all the battles that I've won are all falling apart. This old feeling of constant dread, of never being able to catch my breath. I looked at an old picture of me the other day and I was smiling. I thought I wish I could feel that smile again, that I could feel her warmth and hope but I understand that the state of my mental health is up to me to care for. I understand my triggers, the things that make my fists clench. I wear a hair band around my wrist and I have had to flick it much more recently. In this understanding, I become more aware of myself.
So, over the last few weeks while I've been sitting in this brewing storm, I've had some revelations. One, because for my own mental state I've had to. And, two, because I literally cannot live with this much dread. I have been trying to teach myself how to let go and let god for lack of better words. I have a tendency to let myself get wrapped up in my job, in other people, in these things that do not matter. It is so much easier for me to deal with your baggage than to carry my own. And all these things that I don't like about myself, about my life are all things that I can fix. It's just it all feels like a struggle, such a struggle right now, but I have to stop only seeing the climb and accept more that I can succeed. Right now I don't want to get up to go do what I have to do. I want so desperately to just create and find my wings that doing anything else feels wrong. The more I write, the more I draw, I realize the more I let go of all these things I've carried with me, all these burdens that weren't my own to begin with. I'm not scared of failing. I'm scared that I will never really win.
My husband and I were sitting at breakfast this morning after we had done the laundry, the beautiful world of adulthood. As usual, we are struggling right now. We are good, kind people. We are doing all the right things and making all the right moves. Between the two of us, we spent 20+ years in the service industry, doing what we had to do provide for our family. We both just recently got out of it because we got older, because we didn't want to work nights, because we were burnt out from being constantly in people's faces. It's not an easy industry to work. So, we made the move and left. And, now, we've had to learn how to manage our lives in brand new way but right now it feels like a struggle. I see how stressed out he is and I feel my own self falling into the shadows. But when I look at him? I see hope and I feel his faith and I know he worries. I don't ever want him to feel like he has to worry that I will crumble even if right now it feels like a fight not to. I sat there this morning and I just looked at him. I thought about what I left over the last few years, knowing that even if it feels like maybe I made a mistake I have to trust that this climb will eventually lead to the top. I am tired. I will not lie but I know I will keep on. This war that rages in my head may never truly quiet but I will eventually win. Let go and let me and just keep climbing..
I've talked a lot lately about what I want out of this life, where I am going, where I want to go. This theme of uncertainty yet knowing exactly where I want to be and how frustrated I am that I can't quite seem to make it there. I put my dreams on hold for so long but I will make something very clear. I have no regrets with the choices I have made in my life. I would gladly walk the same path all over again for that man sitting outside on that deck, for that child downstairs singing Pat Benatar, even for those two kitties chasing each other right now in this moment. Would my life be different without them? Absolutely but it wouldn't be better. I spent a lot of my life taking care of other people, of putting other people first. I look back at all those faces that have come and gone, knowing that in the moment my heart touched them they were all taking care of me, too. I needed to feel needed, wanted because those feelings made me feel loved. And in that need, I willingly put aside the things that made my heart smile. I believed that if you smiled at me that was all that I needed... but at some point those smiles didn't seem enough. I know that sounds a little rude. I don't mean it that way. At some point I started to hear this voice inside me ask when was I going to take care of me? When was I going to water my own garden? And I guess I finally heard.
This week has sucked. Plain and simple sucked. Tuesday night I came home from work after a really hard day and had a full on anxiety attack. I haven't had one in awhile. It scared me because I thought I had gotten beyond that. I had thought I finally conquered this fear inside of me but life sneaks up on you. I was overwhelmed, angry, burnt completely out but what sent me over the edge was the disappointment I felt in myself, in the day I had, in where I had landed. I had spent my entire day being pulled in twenty different directions with things I didn't know how to do and no one seemed to care, realizing in the midst of all that chaos that I didn't even care about the job at hand. I didn't care about the people at the other end of the line, about their problems, about them because the whole thing was just a disappointment to me. I left a place because I wasn't happy and thought I was going to a place that was going to be the first steps towards my dreams finally coming true. Reality hit me on Tuesday. I am nowhere near where I want to be and the steps I thought I had taken actually took me two steps back. So, my head went into a spiral of questioning everything I had done in the last year. I finally had started to take care of myself only to put myself in a full blown anxiety battle, a war I thought I had won. I often think during the day about stuff I probably shouldn't because it only aggravates me. And having people bitch at me about things that really at the end of the day don't matter? Well, that only exasperates me more. That desire to make other people happy? Yeah, well, it just doesn't hold the same weight as it did before when I feel like I am suffocating.
Tuesday passed and the next day came. I woke up with my head clear, my heart full. I thought about my husband the night before. I laughed at what a saint he is to deal with these roller coasters that I sometimes find myself on. I couldn't be more grateful for his patience, his kindness, his understanding that when I get sucked into these downward spirals that I have to find my own way out. And I did. I woke up realizing that whatever lesson, whatever reason I found myself here has been learned. I needed to move on from one stage of my life and I wouldn't have if this opportunity hadn't shown itself to me. So, I tried on these shoes and, at first, I really did believe they fit well but after awhile the fit didn't feel quite right. That's OK. I understand the value of recognizing of when something is not right and when it's time to find something new that will be that better fit. What I can take away from this experience is that it has giving me a platform to truly explore my art, my writing, this talent that I just now admit I have. I know clearly my direction. I've spent my life taking care of other people because most of my life that is what I needed. I don't want to spend the rest of it not knowing what I am truly capable of. If something isn't right, I don't have to suffer in it. No one does. I may fail again. I may have another anxiety attack in five minutes but I don't want to live the rest of my life suffocating.
I try to be careful about what I write because I know people in my life sometimes read these things but I don't want to be scared being vulnerable either. I put the world ahead of myself to protect myself from anyone seeing me. It wasn't a selfless thing. It was out of self protection. Wednesday I woke up and I laughed, realizing that the amount of pressure I was putting on myself for a shoe that doesn't fit was absurd. It doesn't matter. What matters is that I draw my pictures, write these words, love my family, live my life. I don't have time anymore to get stuck on things that don't make me want to be better. Sometimes a job is just a job, a place is just a place, people are just people. If my life fell apart tomorrow, I would still be all right. If they told me to walk out that door, I would still be all right. I have these two feet and even at their weakest they've always managed to hold me up. Now it's time to start walking. I don't want to just stand anymore. And I can no longer afford to be scared of a misstep because so what if I do? I correct. I keep going.