Feeling much better now, thanks.
I'm trying to really look hard at myself and figure out what exactly it is that I'm so unhappy with. My life is so full of amazing things! I have a lot of good friends (you love me, you really love me!), people who actually WANT to hang out with me (my diabolical plan is working! Mwha hahahahahahahahaha!), a wonderfully easy baby to take care of (even though she STILL WON'T SLEEP), an amazing husband who loves me and is easy on the eyes, and my family, well, they are my family. I love them. And they won't leave me alone anyway, so I guess I'm stuck with them.
I've gotten a lot of good advice and I'm working hard at convincing myself to follow it. I think a big part of it is that I'm so used to being unhappy, having something that needs to be fixed, that I'm looking for it. Even though I've been happier than I've ever been for the last 8 or 9 years, the idea of happiness still scares me. Depression is certainly a security blanket, though I don't want it anymore. I guess I just have some old habits that I need to finally let go of that I'm struggling with.
I did read somewhere that the pursuit of happiness that is currently in vogue is actually a fairly new thing and is making more people unsatisfied and UNhappy than ever before. A lot of people believe that the grass is greener on the other side, and aren't looking at what they already have to be happy. Some ideal (wealth, skinnyness, no gray hairs, fancy cars, stuff, etc.) is what is going to make them happy and satisfied and they keep trying for it. Then they reach it, and they don't think they are happy, so they keep looking. Pop culture is telling us that the search for happiness is more important than anything else, and it's blinding people to the fact that they may already have everything they need to be happy. Happy people aren't searching to be more happy. In fact, happy people don't REALIZE they are happy. They realize they are satisfied with life, and they realize they are very blessed, but being happy may NOT be a conscious choice. It's just a state of being. And oddly enough, being unhappy sometimes, is a part of the general happiness. (Depression and unhappiness are not the same thing.)
So, I'm not depressed, I know that for sure, I AM bored a lot of the time, and I think because of that, I worry way way way too much about how happy I am or am not. I have to fix my way of looking at things, the way I talk to myself. I have to stop being ashamed of my some of my interests and start being proud of what I can do and of myself. To stop being ashamed of my past, but also not keep looking at it for the source of all my "problems". I need to learn to move on and let go. And maybe stop watching so much tv. (Nah, I like it too much.)
Will I achieve this? I have no idea. I may not in this lifetime. I certainly don't want to think that I can't anymore. Because if I believe that, than I definitely won't.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Hide and Go Seek
I have been having the strangest of struggles lately. Of course, these struggles show up mostly at night, when I'm tired and can't really think clearly. I'm not sure where they are coming from, or what they are trying to tell me. During the day, I have a tendency to hide from them, through watching tv, not eating, or eating things I don't really want to, or by spending hours online, doing nothing.
I think I'm searching for something, but for what, I'm not entirely sure.
I recently got a wonderful card from some wonderful ladies for my birthday (okay, so June isn't really that recent, but it IS more recent than, say, December). It was filled with lots of wonderful birthday wishes and hopes and it made me feel more loved and noticed than anything has in a long time. One note in particular really touched me. It said that I make this woman want to like herself for her. I was so flattered.
But I don't get it.
I don't like myself, at all. (I know, I know, I'm amazing, wonderful, smart AND beautiful. Stop it, you're making me blush!)
Really, I don't. I never have, except possibly for a very short time when I was little, which is a time I don't remember (I seriously have the worst memory of anyone I know. At least, if I remember that I know you). I know all to well what all my flaws are, and I am constantly embarrassed by them. I spout words of acceptance of self to everyone else, because I don't want them to be like me. I am plagued constantly by thoughts and feelings (feelings are the worst. You can't just push those aside, like thoughts) of not being good enough, clean enough, perfect enough, at anything. My house gets cleaned in a whirlwind every couple of weeks, not at a steady, constant pace like I'm "supposed" to. I vacuum a couple of days after I notice animal hair has intolerably built up against the furnace intake vents. I wear my pajamas almost everyday. I don't think I have a single flattering piece of clothing available for me to wear right now. Just old t-shirts and 2 pairs of pants that don't really fit well. We're too poor for me to go and try to find something, but that doesn't matter anyway, because I'm too fat to even bother trying to find something flattering (this thought is just me being unable to put a finger on what is really bothering me. It's my safety net. I feel bad, so it must be because I'm fat). I don't exercise like I'm "supposed" to. I don't eat at healthy as I'm "supposed" to. I don't WANT to eat as healthy as I'm "supposed" to.
I feel constantly judged, constantly battered by "supposed" to's and "have" to's. I am constantly looking at other people and seeing them do what they want, doing what makes them happy, experiencing things and letting them flow through them, letting the experiences mark their surroundings, and all I see me doing is trying to be like everyone around me. Bland, boring. (Not you, whoever is reading right this moment! You're full of colors and are extremely exciting, really!) That's how I feel. These people I admire so greatly, I'm sure they feel constantly judged, but they do what they want anyway. They are the embodiment of freedom to me.
There are people I know, friends and family, that would/will read this and say, "Have you looked at your choice of religion as the root of your feelings of judgement and confinement?" So to get it out of the way, to them I say: Yes. I have. And for me, my religion has actually given me the courage and the tools and weapons to break away from the judgement and confinement I feel. I was feeling this well before I joined the LDS church, and it has brought me the most peace to my heart and soul, the most healing, out of anything else I have tried. I also look at the LDS church very differently from most people and members, I feel, and that's a big reason that it does bring me peace. Also, I met The Man because of it, and well, you all know how sexy-hot he is!
But I seem to have gotten stuck in this awful purgatory of not quite bad enough to need massive amounts of help and pills and therapy and pity, and the wonderful sense of joy and peace that everyone craves and needs. Few people find it, and I want to be one of them. I really do want to love me for me, not for how I look, or how my clothes fit, or how clean my house is. But right now, that is where all my worth is tied up. In outward appearances. It sickens me, yet I can't move on from it. I so want to, but how do you break away from these chains? How do you truly live apart from the world, yet still be an active participant? How do you really embrace those things that make you different, even if it makes others uncomfortable, or even dislike you?
I think I'm searching for something, but for what, I'm not entirely sure.
I recently got a wonderful card from some wonderful ladies for my birthday (okay, so June isn't really that recent, but it IS more recent than, say, December). It was filled with lots of wonderful birthday wishes and hopes and it made me feel more loved and noticed than anything has in a long time. One note in particular really touched me. It said that I make this woman want to like herself for her. I was so flattered.
But I don't get it.
I don't like myself, at all. (I know, I know, I'm amazing, wonderful, smart AND beautiful. Stop it, you're making me blush!)
Really, I don't. I never have, except possibly for a very short time when I was little, which is a time I don't remember (I seriously have the worst memory of anyone I know. At least, if I remember that I know you). I know all to well what all my flaws are, and I am constantly embarrassed by them. I spout words of acceptance of self to everyone else, because I don't want them to be like me. I am plagued constantly by thoughts and feelings (feelings are the worst. You can't just push those aside, like thoughts) of not being good enough, clean enough, perfect enough, at anything. My house gets cleaned in a whirlwind every couple of weeks, not at a steady, constant pace like I'm "supposed" to. I vacuum a couple of days after I notice animal hair has intolerably built up against the furnace intake vents. I wear my pajamas almost everyday. I don't think I have a single flattering piece of clothing available for me to wear right now. Just old t-shirts and 2 pairs of pants that don't really fit well. We're too poor for me to go and try to find something, but that doesn't matter anyway, because I'm too fat to even bother trying to find something flattering (this thought is just me being unable to put a finger on what is really bothering me. It's my safety net. I feel bad, so it must be because I'm fat). I don't exercise like I'm "supposed" to. I don't eat at healthy as I'm "supposed" to. I don't WANT to eat as healthy as I'm "supposed" to.
I feel constantly judged, constantly battered by "supposed" to's and "have" to's. I am constantly looking at other people and seeing them do what they want, doing what makes them happy, experiencing things and letting them flow through them, letting the experiences mark their surroundings, and all I see me doing is trying to be like everyone around me. Bland, boring. (Not you, whoever is reading right this moment! You're full of colors and are extremely exciting, really!) That's how I feel. These people I admire so greatly, I'm sure they feel constantly judged, but they do what they want anyway. They are the embodiment of freedom to me.
There are people I know, friends and family, that would/will read this and say, "Have you looked at your choice of religion as the root of your feelings of judgement and confinement?" So to get it out of the way, to them I say: Yes. I have. And for me, my religion has actually given me the courage and the tools and weapons to break away from the judgement and confinement I feel. I was feeling this well before I joined the LDS church, and it has brought me the most peace to my heart and soul, the most healing, out of anything else I have tried. I also look at the LDS church very differently from most people and members, I feel, and that's a big reason that it does bring me peace. Also, I met The Man because of it, and well, you all know how sexy-hot he is!
But I seem to have gotten stuck in this awful purgatory of not quite bad enough to need massive amounts of help and pills and therapy and pity, and the wonderful sense of joy and peace that everyone craves and needs. Few people find it, and I want to be one of them. I really do want to love me for me, not for how I look, or how my clothes fit, or how clean my house is. But right now, that is where all my worth is tied up. In outward appearances. It sickens me, yet I can't move on from it. I so want to, but how do you break away from these chains? How do you truly live apart from the world, yet still be an active participant? How do you really embrace those things that make you different, even if it makes others uncomfortable, or even dislike you?
Friday, July 15, 2011
Zzzzz.....
I'm so so so so so tired.
Because of said tiredness, I can't ever think of anything to write about.
Baby Cakes is getting into my yarn. And playing with a miniscule piece of newspaper. And hugging the couch (at least, that's what it looks like).
She also hasn't been sleeping well the last couple nights. It's been a fun situation ever since we took our trip to Florida and she got sick. She now HAS to be nursed before going to sleep, both before naps and bedtime. For the longest time, she was waking up 4 or more times a night, and needing to be nursed every time. That has mostly stopped (except for the last 2 nights) and she has reduced it to 2 times a night. Thankfully with about 4 hours in between each waking.
She has also decided that afternoon naps are for chumps. I keep telling her that only the coolest kids take 2 naps a day, but she says "Nothing doing." So at 9 months, she is down to 1 nap a day. *sigh*
Thankfully, that lack of an afternoon nap hasn't been the reason for poor sleeping at night. That's been all me. Night before last, I decided it was bedtime before she was actually tired enough. So she kept waking up. She finally slept for longer than 1 hour at 1 am. Then she woke up at 3. Then at 7. And she was up for the day. Last night, she should have been in bed by 6 probably. She didn't get laid down until 8, because The Man had to work late, and I wanted him to at least see her for a few minutes. She was pretty much a mess. And woke up every hour at least once until about 3 (I didn't get up every time, but I certainly woke up). And she was up BEFORE 7.
So I'm pretty much the walking dead right now.
I hope she takes a really long nap today, because I need it.
Because of said tiredness, I can't ever think of anything to write about.
Baby Cakes is getting into my yarn. And playing with a miniscule piece of newspaper. And hugging the couch (at least, that's what it looks like).
She also hasn't been sleeping well the last couple nights. It's been a fun situation ever since we took our trip to Florida and she got sick. She now HAS to be nursed before going to sleep, both before naps and bedtime. For the longest time, she was waking up 4 or more times a night, and needing to be nursed every time. That has mostly stopped (except for the last 2 nights) and she has reduced it to 2 times a night. Thankfully with about 4 hours in between each waking.
She has also decided that afternoon naps are for chumps. I keep telling her that only the coolest kids take 2 naps a day, but she says "Nothing doing." So at 9 months, she is down to 1 nap a day. *sigh*
Thankfully, that lack of an afternoon nap hasn't been the reason for poor sleeping at night. That's been all me. Night before last, I decided it was bedtime before she was actually tired enough. So she kept waking up. She finally slept for longer than 1 hour at 1 am. Then she woke up at 3. Then at 7. And she was up for the day. Last night, she should have been in bed by 6 probably. She didn't get laid down until 8, because The Man had to work late, and I wanted him to at least see her for a few minutes. She was pretty much a mess. And woke up every hour at least once until about 3 (I didn't get up every time, but I certainly woke up). And she was up BEFORE 7.
So I'm pretty much the walking dead right now.
I hope she takes a really long nap today, because I need it.
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