Friday, September 26, 2014

Late Night/Early Morning Ramble....

When I was younger, I used to love my birthday. I would throw a party every year and it would be one of the highlights of my year. Actually, I really enjoyed all the holidays, but birthdays were always my favorite. Two or three years in a row I threw my mom a surprise party (once it even stayed a surprise until the day of the party!) 

Somewhere along the line, that changed, and all holidays, especially my birthday became huge hassles to me. Was it the year I had the chicken pox for my birthday? Maybe. At the very least that was the start of my declined interest in celebrating, but the real defining moment where I clearly remember being totally done was when I was in high school. 

The guys in our lunch group made me a card, and it was sweet, until I opened it. They drew me as a cow, and came over when they saw I was reading it just to throw pieces of their pizza at me. There was also a cowbell involved, as well as moo-ing but I'm not sure what happened to the bell. Before that moment, I thought those guys were my friends, and even afterwards it was treated as a non-issue. A little after my birthday we had a half day and all went to McD's. I got my revenge, but I'm not proud of my actions, so let's just say my response made us even, and they never gave me a present again. 

For the longest time, the less attention I called to my birthday, the less horrible it seemed to be. As technology has advanced, I've even gone as far to hide my birthday from the social networks so not to be bombarded with sincere and not so sincere well wishes. 

Sooooo, what's the point? I don't know. I still really enjoy doing things for other people's birthdays, and I really like the idea of a day dedicated to making someone feel special, but the idea of my birthday being treated that way makes me extremely uncomfortable. Ugh. I sound like one of two things. Either like a whiny passive aggressive girl trying to trick people into making a big deal (gag me with a spoon) or like a depressed annoying person. 

Anyway, believe it or not, I'm actually planning on doing my best to not be a hag about it this year. I'm probably still hiding it from social media, but I'm making a concious decision not to go out of my way to avoid it. That's something right? ;)

Friday, September 19, 2014

When You're On A Roll....

Eventually you stop. And that is exactly what happened to me! I was writing A LOT, making tons of progress, and then one day BANG! Writer's Block. So I tried to change what I was writing about, and failed pretty spectacularly. The small amount of writing I managed was so bad I deleted them completely.

I'm still fighting a bit of a block, but I'm feeling triumphant right now which means if I had someone around right now I would be word vomiting on them. BUT, it's Friday night and I'm mom to a toddler so you get my word vomit instead! Betcha feel lucky huh?

So my block is caused by the fact that I'm still nervous about sharing my truths. One of the smartest people I've ever met sent me this quote semi recently:
 "You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better." -Anne Lamott

Problem is, the people I can write warmly about would probably be confused at the depth of regard I hold them in, and writing about the other people is scary because they don't realize how much pain they have caused me, and those (very different) depths would be startling and a very rude awakening. No one wants to be rudely awakened by some silly bright haired gal. These are things they should discover on their own, without my interference (main reason I use an alias when I write btw).

I want to be able to share and make a difference, but A lot of these people are still in my life to some degree. Most of the things I'm writing about are things from people that claimed love-like emotions and family-like closeness. I've done some major purging of the ick in my life, and I really like the direction I'm headed in. That doesn't change the fact that some people that have (accidentally or not) caused me pain aren't going anywhere. Sure, they can be pushed to the edge, and not be as centered as they used to be, but they still exist and I still care.

I'm not one to purposely cause pain to anyone, even if it would be technically returning the favor. That's not how I roll.

And that's why I get writer's block.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Unconditional Love is a Beyotch

Unconditional love is the kind of love that you have for someone that means no matter what they say or do to you or anyone else in the world you will still love them. No matter what. It's the best kind of love in the world to be on the receiving end of, but can be a total bummer to be on the giving end of.

The love I have for my son is most definitely the strongest example of unconditional love I have ever felt in my life. And it's awesome. His existence seriously makes my world a better place (and me a better person in this world). Right now he is 4 years old, and upset. He's angry and hurt and confused, and he doesn't know how to process how he feels. So, he plays at school, and at grandma's at with his sitter and her extra people that come along. He gives everyone HUGE hugs and kisses and he is a very happy boy. Then he remembers that he is upset, and he pushes it down and waits until he is around his Mommie. He knows how much I love him, so he yells and cries and kicks pillows and hides under his bed and refuses to listen to me. So I will tell him I love him and that it will be ok. He throws all his ugly at me because he needs to get it out from inside of him, and so I can cuddle him and kiss him and reassure him that it will be ok.

That's my job, and I will do this until my last breath, and I am forever grateful that at such a young age he knows that he is loved. That doesn't mean that having someone's worst thrown at you doesn't take it's toll. It is taking it's toll on me. It is getting harder for me to stay calm, and my ability to stay calm is usually my strongest trait. I'm afraid that I'm going to snap and say something I don't mean or do something unforgivable. Not necessarily to my son mind you, just to someone I come across, and they probably won't deserve it. I don't want to snap.

It's taking more coffee and nicotine than it used to for me to make it through the day, and when I finally get to my quiet part of the day the world is sleeping so it is sometimes too quiet for me to get distracted.

I feel like I'm a water pitcher constantly pouring out, but the water delivery truck only comes once a month and I am having to stretch out the water to make sure I don't run out. But the stretching comes at a cost. I'm lucky to have such awesome people in my life, and I don't want it to sound like I am not appreciative of their existence, but something is definitely missing in my life, and what's missing is something to refill my pitcher more often.

A Little Blasphemy as a Literal (and Figurative) Sign of Progress

 Hello there, it’s been a while, and in true returning from ghosting fashion, I am here to either share something vapid and meaningless, or ...