We all have days where we try to convince ourselves that we are okay. We got it all under control, right? I think it’s part of self-preservation. I know if I didn’t pretend everything is A-OK, I would have been committed by now.
My question is, when is it time to stop pretending? When is it acceptable to stop pretending? My game face is tired. My mind is tired. My body is tired. I am contemplating taking a weekend getaway, just for me. Just to see what it is like to be alone and not responsible for anyone but me. I can’t remember a time when I did anything like that. Is that sad? I wouldn’t even know where to go or what to do. Would I just sleep, read, watch TV? I have no clue. Could I actually be alone for an entire 48 hours? Maybe I’m afraid of what I would discover about myself. What if I like the alone time? What if I realize what is supposed to make me happy doesn’t? Then what? I create a brand new hell for myself to live with day in and day out.
The girl child plays heavily into my daily struggles. At the end of last week I felt like I had finally come to terms with what I needed to do. I wrote my girl a list of expectations. Things that needed to change if she was going to continue living in my house and what I would and would not do for her if she chose to move out. I am giving her a two week period to make changes. I don’t know when I will give it to her. I assume there will be yelling and screaming and tears. And of course this weekend my girl was actually…..sweet, nice, helpful. She is also at the beginning stages of a manic episode. I guess there really isn’t a right time, I’m hoping I will know when it’s time. And I hope I will be able to live with the repercussions.
Maybe I’m just going through a mid-life crisis. Maybe I’m a wreck because I’m going through menopause, which I have no actual symptoms of. Maybe I’m at a point where I just keep on pretending because it’s too late for a change. It’s too late to figure out what I want and what I don’t want. It’s too late to stop pretending. Time to put the game face back on. Time to keep pretending.
A few years ago I read an article about sleep. It had some tips/tricks to try when you can’t fall asleep. There is only one thing I remember and actually use from that article. When you are nice and comfy in bed, close your eyes and starting at the tip top of your head tell your body to relax. You work your way down, forehead, eyebrows, eyes, nose, all the way down to your feet. It really does work. Sometimes I have to do it a few times, but I eventually feel my body relax.
Last night as I was on my third or fourth round of trying to relax my body when my brain interrupted. I was starting at the top of my head and my brain clicked on. Suddenly, instead of relaxing each part of my body I was critiquing each part of my body.
Top of my head/hair – thinning hair/gray hair. Solution: get plugs and weekly trips to the salon.
Cheeks – starting to sag. Solution: facelift (this will also help the jowls, so it’s two for two!)
Lip – I’m OK with my lips at this point. Maybe a little Botox in the laugh line area.
Chin – eh, the chin is fine.
Neck – Christ, where do I start. Just a total do-over. That shit needs to be tightened and pulled where ever possible.
Shoulders – significant slouching from years of carrying a heavy load. Solution: there is no solution, the heavy load will be with me for the rest of my life. Besides, if I throw my shoulders back it looks like I’m flaunty my saggy boobs.
Upper arms – flabby and gross. Solution: a nice nip/tuck will fix that up in a jiffy.
Boobs – similar to two unevenly deflated balloons. Solution: new boobs – easy peasy
Forearms – I mean they’re just forearms…….
Hands – look old and wrinkled. Solution: I think I can get fat injected in my hands so they look young and plump.
Mid-section – (insert vomit noise) Solution: nothing a little lipo and full body tuck wouldn’t fix.
Buttock – (insert second vomit noise) Solution: the full body tuck should help my saggy bottom, but maybe a Brazilian Butt lift for the win!
Lady bits – ummmmm, I mean yes, they have been through years of use and childbirth. Solution: fairly certain there is a vaginal tightening process as well as a procedure to make everything look “aesthetically pleasing”. I might as well go for it.
Thighs – I will say I have strong legs, however would kill for that oh so sexy thigh gap. Solution: I think some lipo and an inner thigh lift should do nicely.
Calves – I’m honestly OK with my calves.
Feet – I like my feet.
So, after all that I couldn’t sleep. I had laid out all my flaws and had no fixes for them. I reminded myself of all my insecurities. There they were playing over and over again in my head. Why? Why do I do this to myself? I have no answer.
When it was finally time to get out of bed and start the day, part of my routine is music. I LOVE MUSIC. Morning shower music is the best. As I’m standing under the hot water, thoughts still swirling from the night before, a song comes on that made me go hmmmmmmmmmm. Is it a coincidence or is the universe trying to tell me something. What song was it you ask…..Love me by Katy Perry
I lost myself in fear of losing you I wish I didn’t do But I did I lost my own, my own identity Forgot that you picked me for me
But now, I don’t negotiate with insecurities They always seem to get the best of me I found the head to love myself, the way I want you to
Love me, no more second guessing No, there’s no more questioning I’ll be the one to find who I’m gonna be No concealing feelings, or changing seasonally I’m gonna love myself, the way I want you to love me Sometimes I wish my skin was a costume
That I could just unzip, and strip But who I am is who I’m meant to be And it’s who you are in love, in love with So now, I don’t negotiate with insecurities
They come and have to take a backseat I know I have to let myself the way I want you to Love me, no more second guessing
No, there’s no more questioning I’ll be the one to find who I’m gonna be No concealing feelings, or changing seasonally I’m gonna love myself, the way I want you to love me No more standing in my own way (Let’s get deeper, let’s get closer)
No more standing in my own way (I want you to love me) No more standing in my own way (Let’s get deeper, let’s get closer) No more standing in my own way (I want you to love me) Love me, no more second guessing No, there’s no more questioning
I’ll be the one to find who I’m gonna be No concealing feelings, or changing seasonally I’m gonna love myself, the way I want you to love me Love me, no more second guessing No, there’s no more questioning I’ll be the one to find who I’m gonna be No concealing feelings, or changing seasonally I’m gonna love myself, the way I want you to love me
Moral of the song? I’m gonna love myself, the way I want you to love me. At least I’m gonna try.
Yesterday was a wonderful day, emotional, but wonderful. It involved deep conversations. Conversations that resonate for a long time. Conversations that make you question everything.
For some reason I felt the need to make a fire in the fire pit last night. I needed the warmth, even though it wasn’t cold. I wanted the warmth to surround me, to comfort me. I needed the warmth to surround me, to comfort me. I love watching the flames dance and swirl. At times it mesmerizes me and my mind is blank. I especially enjoy those times. There are times where my mind dances and swirls like the flames. My thoughts race between good and bad. That was last night.
Staring into the fire, the embers glowing, inviting me to reach out and feel their warmth. I know they dangerous, they would burn me. What would they burn? Would the embers and flames burn away my shell, my outer layer? Would it burn away my armor that keeps me safe? Would it burn away the fake smile? Would it burn away the lies I tell myself each day? What would be left of me? I don’t know what would be left. That is a terrifying thought. Standing naked and raw before a mirror – would what I see? What would I feel? Would I be glowing like the ember?
I didn’t want to get out of the shower this morning. I needed the warmth, the sound of the water. I needed the water to wash away my tears. This morning I kept asking myself why I care so much. Why do I care what others think? I was raised to be a “care-er”. It mattered what other people thought, it mattered what other people saw, it mattered what other people perceived to be real or the truth. I AM FUCKING TIRED OF CARING WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK.
I am also a “care-er” in the sense that I feel it is my responsibility and my mission in life to make others happy. To do all I can to show them I love them. At times that is at my own expense; sometimes emotionally/mentally and sometimes physically. And when I can’t take care of everyone, I feel like a failure. Why? Because that’s what I was raised around. Always being the pleaser, no matter at what expense.
Being a “care-er” has mad me a master of disguise. I disguise my sadness so others don’t feel it. I disguise my unhappiness so I don’t hurt others. I disguise my true self so others don’t feel uncomfortable. Why?
If I stop caring, who will? Who will care about everything? Who will care about me?
At times I feel I have spent my life helping and pleasing others. Being someone others want me to be, not who I want to be or who I am. Why am I not allowed to be who I want to be? Why? Why was I raised to believe that everyone comes before me? Why? I am now old enough, and perhaps wise enough to know and to see it came from my mom. She was so unhappy in her life, she was constantly doing things to please others. She will say she enjoyed it, that she wanted to – but did she? Did she always want to put others first? Did she always want to do what made others happy? Was she ever happy, is she happy?
Please, DO NOT get me wrong. I will never regret having my kids, raising them the best way I could, and giving them all my love, attention and energy. I loved celebrating each accomplishment with them and always will. I loved them when they struggled with failure and always will. I may not always like them, but I will always love them. Yes, I know that’s such a cliché, but it’s the truth.
Now, back to me (wink, wink). Has anyone really figured out what they want out of life, what makes them happy? Are we on a constant search? Do we just settle with what might be convenient, or easy or comfortable?
I’m tired of being comfortable and predictable. I want to be uncomfortable and unpredictable to allow myself to grow and to feel more intensely. Is that wrong? What does it mean? Does it mean I’m a total asshole for feeling that way?
Am I the only one who thinks about just walking away? Could I just walk away? Who would I miss, what would I miss? Do I need to walk away to realize who I am meant to be, to realize what I want and what I don’t want? Where would I go? What would I do? How far could I go before…………………….before they realized I was gone? Would it matter that I am gone? Or would it matter more that I am not present and not doing for them, that I inconvenienced them by leaving. Am I just a convenience at this point? Always there, always giving, never asking for much, in my opinion.
When I love, I love fiercely. When I give myself, I give all of me. Am I being loved fiercely in return? Am I getting all of you?
Is it wrong to wonder if this is it? Is it wrong to want to experience more in my life?
When does someone start taking care of me, because they want to and not because they have to? Is that selfish?
I sound like a seriously whiny bitch and I honestly feel like that, so I’m good with it.
I am currently and admittedly in bitch mode. I’m not sure what made me decide to vent about it, so humor me.
The girl child – I’m getting to the end of my………..everything with her. I don’t like it, I don’t want to go off on her, I want to help her and I can’t. I don’t want to get bitched at by her because we went out to eat to a restaurant she didn’t approve of so she just didn’t eat or because dinner was made before she got home from work or because her car didn’t start this morning. I can’t believe she stood in front of me and told me she needs my attention while I was talking to a friend, in person. Yeah, that happened. I DON’T FUCKING CARE ANYMORE- UGH.
Why is everyone needy at the same time in my life?
How the fuck do I gain two pounds overnight?
I have a name, damn it! It’s not mom, mimi, hon, hey, yo, or bro. It’s Heather. That is my name. And because I’m in bitch mode, I realized today that when someone special says my name I like it – a lot. I want to hear it more often, please and thank you. Because for that short time I’m not defined by what I am but by who I am. I am Heather and yes there is a song I would love to reference right now (hint: Say my Name, Say my Name, Say my Name…)
Why does it rain every fucking time I scrub my floors? I clean those bitches all the time, I swear I do. I’m sick of it.
I think that’s it. I calmed down. I do love being called by my other names and I do love the people that call me those names. Except for bro. But I still do like hearing my name. I will never be skinny, I need to stop weighing myself all the time. I do still hate scrubbing floors.