growing up

it turns out, one of the hardest parts of growing up is admitting when you've been an absolute cunt for absolutely no reason other than your own issues.

 

years ago, in the og days of the twitter machine, there was a local twitterer that i decided to have beef with:

 

this person had the sheer audacity to set goals and achieve them.

CAN. YOU. IMAGINE?

 

one of her goals was to write/publish a book. and she did. and i bought it and read it. and it was good.

AND HOLY FUCK DID THAT MAKE ME MAD.

HOW. FUCKING. DARE. SHE?

i've been talking about writing and publishing MY WHOLE LIFE. and through my own procrastination and self doubt and general unending ability to create the shittiest excuses of all time, i completely slacked off and never did it.

and she just...did it? 

how dare she set goals and achieve them. the nerve of some people.

yeah. i'm a giant cunt.

turns out she's a completely AMAZING human being and i missed out on years of a possible friendship because of my own petty jealousies.

so. you know. don't be like me.

 

take a minute to look at the irritating spots. the harsh judgements. what is it that really bothers you?

it's uncomfortable. it really is. for me, most of the deep irritations boil down to my own ego.

 

with my kids i really, really struggled in the ways they were like me. i really dug in and fought because i know how hard it's been to BE ME. i didn't want that for them. instead of finding a way to make it better for both of us, i fought it. i wanted to change them and resented that they couldn't change any more than i could. i think there's a lot of damage there on all sides.

with other people it's been my own issues- ending relationships because they cared too much. there must be something wrong with them if they like me. with friendships- i mean fuck. being mad at someone for achieving an AMAZING goal instead of being a cheerleader? that's just petty jealousy.

growing up means learning to set that aside.

talking to my kid about being like me. why it's been hard. what i've learned that makes it better. being able to gently show him how i'm learning to settle into my own skin.

 

meeting people for coffee and realizing how much potential i've missed out on over the years and making the conscious decision to shift the way i view other's success.

 

letting the really nice guy say that he likes me and believing him instead of trying to prove to him why he shouldn't.

growing up is hard yo.

breaking news: dating is hard

i've started dating. REALLY dating. like, seeing the same person more than one time. sometimes for weeks at a time. 

i've come up with a theory of why/how strong/independent people end up with seemingly “mooch” partners:

a) the new partner usually has an abundance of free time to spend together which is lovely. the down side is though, it can allow things to get very intense, very fast emotionally, so by the time you recognize not great behavior, you’re already emotionally invested.

b) if you’ve lived alone for a while, you’re used to paying all your bills yourself. you’ve made it work on one income. any “extra money” the partner bring in (side hustles, random odd jobs, oh hell, any time you don’t have to pay for a dinner out) seems like such a luxury and you appreciate it so much. in reality it’s like someone carrying the eggs upstairs when the whole trunk is full of groceries. you appreciate the help, you could have done it yourself, but it was nice that someone did something for you. as little as it was.

for example:

i recently dated a guy for several weeks. we'll call him the plant guy (he made dirt for my plants!)

 

plant guy just slid right in and i got attached very quickly. he wasn't working, didn't have a steady income, but i was already completely taking care of myself, paying for my own meals, my own rent. have been for...oh...a mere twenty one years. but suddenly, anything he contributed made an outing feel extravagant. made me feel spoiled, fancy. also, because he didn't have a over burdened schedule, was ALWAYS available, like stayed the first night and then every night after that. nothing but uninterrupted one on one time for 3 solid weeks.  it got very intense, very fast.

this weekend i went out with a lawyer. he has a well established, busy career. he's in a band. he has events, a schedule. responsibilities. he has nearly adult children, clients, friends. it would be exponentially harder to get together with him, in-depth time would be limited and broken up over several weeks or months.

i suppose it's just one more way dating is fucking hard.

but it’s like everything else in life- the easy thing isn’t usually the best and the best thing isn’t usually easy.

but being aware of...that. being aware of maybe WHY something is. recognizing the behavior patterns can help reframe the internal dialogue when finding the right balanced partnership.

when i feel like i'm getting in over my head too quickly now i have one more filter to run things through: are you just over-saturated? when's the last time you had a minute alone? am i starting to feel out of balance, why is that?

especially with massive anxiety, it's nice to find a way to be more calm and patient and kind with myself while wading through the swap of despair that is dating. being able to ask myself healthy questions, check in, in a kinder way that isn’t panic or hurt. it can help keep me out of unhealthy relationships and maybe allow a little more space/time for ones i would have otherwise written off.

one more step towards finding a right fit for me.

long story short

it's been a rough several months at home.
back in May things started getting difficult with my 15 year old son.

it hasn't improved.

lying, stealing, running away, draining $2k from a bank account, picking fights, skipping school, confrontations with teachers and police officers, court hearing, contempt of court hearing, suicide threats, drug use, alcohol use, tobacco use, abuse accusations, verbal and emotional attacks, self-harm to attempt to seek placement outside the house...the list grows almost daily.

the police have been to our home countless times. i have been investigated by the courts, CPS, questioned by police, commissioners, advocates, counselors.

we are utilizing the juvenile court systems, court appointed counseling programs, community resources, school resources, friends, family.

i have knocked on every door and called every phone number provided.

things are bad.

things are really bad.

on october 19th i removed my son from the house for both of our safety. he's staying with relatives while i try to figure out what comes next.

it's been an adjustment. the learning curve is HUGE. there's so many parts and pieces and contributing factors. there's work and cooperation necessary for improvement that don't seem like they'll happen any time soon.

i'm lost. i'm bewildered. i'm sad. i'm worried. i'm grieving. i'm...i'm a hot mess express most days. my apartment has been stress cleaned *almost* to white glove inspection standards.

BUT.

silver lining, i guess, if that's a thing: i'm learning a LOT about myself through this process. i'm learning how to stand up for myself. i'm setting personal boundaries and sticking to them. i'm learning to listen. i'm learning to give trust and to ask for trust. i'm learning that if you ask for help, there's people ready and waiting who WANT to help. i'm learning to utilize people with better resources and experience. i'm learning to stay calm, be steadfast. i'm learning not to take things personally, even when they're meant to be EXTREMELY, intentionally, targeted personal attacks. i'm growing and opening up. finally. now that i'm almost 40 i'm learning some really basic stuff. I'M NOT SHAMING MYSELF. i'm acknowledging that, while behind the times, i'm finally catching up. i'm finally dealing with some really, really old trauma that still has claws. i'm learning to set aside old useless weights, change my thinking, my inner monologue. i'm learning to be kind to myself and maybe even like myself a little.

growth and change is never easy or fun. it's messy and usually painful. it's like cleaning out my house: it gets worse before it gets better, it's easy to get overwhelmed by how much there is to do, but in the end, it's worth the work.

scratch the surface

i've been doing a LOT of processing and working through things lately.

i've been digging deep into my past, why things are the way they are, why i am the way i am. i'm finally resolving (or working on) trauma and weird shit from the last 37 (fuck, almost 38) years on this planet.

i've delved really fucking deep into recurring nightmares, grief, choices, all the different paths life has taken.

i've gone DEEP y'all.

and it's been (mostly) good and healing. 

but, oddly, it's the super shallow stuff that's made a really big difference for me.

because people are shallow y'all.

and i mean this in the best way possible.

see, i've been single for basically my entire life. i've dated here and there. i was married for a whopping 23 months. most "relationships" don't make it past the 2 month mark. i've been on countless horrible first dates. i've been on plenty "meh" first dates. i've been stood up for an embarrassing number of never-happened dates.

and i took it all so, incredibly, painfully personal.

every rejection, every ghost, every failed attempt it was because of ME. like, ME. the deep me.

i don't have success dating because I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON. my very core self if like if every serial killer and political dictator and perpetrator of ethnic cleansing and generally horrible person on earth merged into one horrible, disgusting, repulsive, intolerable sample of humanity packaged into a chubby brunette body.

imagine packing this image of yourself around year after year.

except...

maybe not?

because here's the thing. most of those people never even got to know me beyond a few text messages and phone calls.

hell, most of them didn't even bother to show up to try to get to know me.

so...maybe people are just shallow.

ya think?

maybe people didn't like me because i'm brunette instead of blonde. cool. i have been blonde(ish), red, blue, pink, purple, black, and for a very short time, a horrid forest green after an attempt at color correction went very wrong.

maybe people don't like me because i'm fat. i've been heavier. i've been lighter. ive been a bigger size, i've been a smaller size. in high school i weighed 140 and had a 28" waist. now i'm almost 40 and have a 28" thigh.

maybe people don't like me because i have kids. i'm hesitant myself to date other people with kids because it's a HUGE responsibility to be in a child's life, for a short time or a long time. even a one time memory can have a lasting effect.

maybe people don't like me because i have tattoos and piercings.

maybe people don't like me because i pronounce words wrong/different.

maybe people don't like my views on politics or religion or which grocery store is the best.

maybe people don't like me because i still own dvd's and refuse to make a digital library. I LIKE THE ACTUAL DVD'S. LEAVE ME ALONE.

maybe it's because i don't like the right music.
 
maybe i talk too much about weird topics (how many people do you know with a book of drawings done by a guard at the gulag?).

maybe it's because i like pineapple on pizza.

maybe it's because they found someone else they have a better connection with.

maybe it's because no one is required to like everyone else on the planet.

maybe i have man hands and don't own a pirate blouse and those are the only two Seinfeld references i know. 

not every rejection is a meat cleaver to the chest. sometimes it's a papercut on your pinkie. sometimes it doesn't even leave a scratch.

people are shallow ya'll.

and that's actually a good thing.

it means maybe i can give myself a break. maybe i'm not actually a terrible monster of a person. i'm just a weird little duck. even weird little ducks can have a great life. 

not everyone hates me as much as i hate myself.

which is actually helping me hate myself less.

funny thing how less hate leads to less hate.


but you know, all those shallow people? it's a time saver. if they think i'm not a match because i don't eat anything purple? how the fuck are they going to handle me when i'm in full PMS rage ranting about who keeps putting the milk back in the fridge on the wrong damn shelf?

sure, it would have been nice if a few had stuck around a little longer.

there's a lot of things that would be nice if they happened.

accidentally becoming uuber famous with endless money to help people out and travel with friends, but without any of the paparazzi or internet trolls? that would be SUPER nice if it happened.

but in the mean time, i'll take a little shallowness and a whole lot less self hate.

that seems like a pretty damn good place to start.

becoming

you can read this as is, but if you take an hour, go watch Nanette, the special by Hannah Gadsby on Netflix, you will have a broader understanding of what i'm struggling and flailing to say here. i've watched Nanette 3 times already and she says things so beautifully, so powerfully, so clearly and concisely. it has truly impacted me in a way i can't explain. i have never, ever, ever before connected so deeply, so profoundly to someone else's story. I've never seen myself in someone else so completely. her raw honestly revealed and unlocked ALL of what follows for me.

no wonder i hate myself so much. i grew up not even knowing gay people existed. there were NO gay people in my home town, so OF COURSE i couldn’t even begin to think that _i_ could be one of “those people.” but i knew enough to know i was glad i wasn't one of "those people." i grew up in church that didn’t even address “those people” because “those people” didn’t exist.

which is worse? invisibility or non-existence?

BUT if “those people” DID exist, they would be gross and wrong and we shouldn’t like them or be friends with them. they all have aids, they’re all loud, flamboyant, flaming, fishnet shirt wearing freaks. you shouldn’t like them. that’s just not something you actually DO. they’re weird. people don’t like weird people.

“don’t be gay” was both a slur and a command. 

but i AM one of those people. and i grew up not HATING a part of myself, but not even having a clue that i was missing an entire half of me. i still really don’t know what that half of me is, but i know it’s there.

but it was ok, because i could pass as straight. i do like men. so i can just ignore all these bad gay thoughts and only pay attention to these good straight thoughts. you get really good at compartmentalizing. picking and choosing what to feel and when. for survival. for *some* acceptance. so we just won’t acknowledge this whole half. it’s fine. look. just tuck those feelings away. and a few of these. and ALL of those. you get really, really good at it. but living with the very real and tangible fear of what would happen if anyone knew about those thoughts...it makes you almost...i dont know...dysfunctional. unable to form ANY kind of bond.

or relationship.

on either side.

because how bad is hearing all those things for YEARS and just holding it inside feeling it about myself, NEVER able to speak up. never being able to say: STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE THAT. 

and to be completely honest, i’m still awkward around gay people. BECAUSE I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT HALF OF MYSELF IS. i do like women. 100% without question. i am incredibly, powerfully, attracted to women. not for attention. not as a party favor. but as beautiful, powerful, sexy, intelligent, amazing human beings. but all i know about BEING that half of myself is hate and to fear and those feelings. i shouldn’t have them. they shouldn't exist because they’re bad.

and because i can pass as straight, i don’t know what it’s like to feel the full weight of being gay. to feel the judgement ALL THE TIME. i’ve been able to “choose” to keep half of myself hidden.  i am still attracted to men. so when im attracted to a woman, i just ignore that bit and wait for another man to circle around. i’ll just wait and keep the women part to myself. i’ve “had an out” this whole time. but i do still feel the judgement, because i can’t just stop being gay. i can hide that part. but that doesnt make it any less real.

here’s the bitch of it though. i’m not just compartmentalizing, i really am scared to “be gay.”

i see so much anger and hate still. i know so. many. people. who are not accepting.

i know so few who are.

the teeter totter is off balance. 

i grew up just aware enough of “gay” to know it was two things: aids and death. thats it. thats “gay” in its entirety. not people. not lives. not relationships and culture. it’s AIDS and DEATH.  that’s fucking terrifying.

everything i know about “gay” is hardship. and i have plenty of that already thanks to some stellar life choices that were *actual* choices. for people who still think gay is a choice- do you think i’ve spent my life CHOOSING the be afraid of half of myself? scared to death (possibly literally) that someone might find out? so if i can compartmentalize that section and keep SOME scary stuff away? i can’t compartmentalize kids. or tragedy. trust me, i’ve tried. those fuckers are slightly more demanding. but this “half gay” part...yeah. just shove that aside and ignore it. it’s just trouble anyway. so what’s a little misery and feeling broken? it will be fine. suck it up. there’s other things going on. just raise your kids and go to work. 

so i just tried to learn how to blend in. my whole life is about trying to blend in. and people talked around me. as i grew up and became an adult, i HEARD all the hate and all the things i was TERRIFIED of. i heard the judgement and the venom and the dehumanization. i heard the jokes and the slurs and the denial of basic human rights.

but they weren’t directed AT me. they never have been. because no one knew i’m “one of those." i just ended up having an unintentional extra seat to the shit show. and all i had to do is keep my mouth shut. just blend in. just keep “being straight”. i look straight. i have kids. i was married to a man. i talk about dating men (while i dream about dating women). they don’t know theyre talking about me because i’ve learned to blend in so well. and besides, it’s not really even me because i can “turn it off” half the time.

and i hear it, all the time. and i can see how terrible the world is to people and i’m a fucking shallow selfish bitch. i KNOW all the terrible things people think and say about “those people.” i’ve heard the things people say when “one of those” isn’t around. the things coward are too scared to say TO THE FACE of the person they’re slandering. but they WERE saying it TO MY FACE. they just didn’t know. they say ALL the things when the person they’re talking to isn’t around. you know how the room goes quiet when someone walks in because assholes suddenly lose their nerve? THAT’S THE STUFF I HEAR. and i am terrified i’m not strong enough to tolerate it for real. i would rather live in perpetual fear and loathing of myself and hearing those things in the background than learn to love and accept and stand up for myself. come back to that later and try to unpack that. oy. 

instead i’ve learned to hate half of myself ALL of the time AND pretend it doesn’t exist. and somehow make myself think that’s fine.

so i live with my fear of half of myself because i was raised to hate half of myself. not even hate really. just always thought of it as “wrong” or “against nature”.  you didn’t have to hate it if just didn’t exist. and, mostly, it still doesn’t exist. i've never dated a woman or had a long term relationship with a woman.

to be fair though, i haven’t really had any relationships with men either though. it’s hard to let people like you when you’re programmed to hate your self for reasons you are *JUST NOW* starting to figure out.

but that fear, that hiding has kept me totally away from the community. i don’t know what it’s like to “be gay.” i've only ever been around a few gay people in my entire life, individually. and events like pride where all the gay people are being gay and letting all their gay out in public is SO overwhelming to me. i'm a quiet gay. i don’t know how to be a part of it. i don’t know how to be a proper gay. 

and then, just for fun, add a little guilt. guilt for giving into the fear. guilt for being able to hide. guilt for actually hiding. because that gets to be a thing too.

and then, ON TOP OF THAT, oh, by the bi, being bi isn’t really a thing. being bi “don’t exist,” i’m “just confused.”  you can’t REALLY like both. which one do you like MORE?

YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE A SIDE.

again. which is worse? being invisible or not existing?

and i just want to yell at everyone: maybe it’s not about a “which” ITS ABOUT A WHO. people are more than the parts that go out or in. 

but i am, fully, completely bi-sexual. it does exist. it is a REAL thing. i really, truly do, EQUALLY like both sides.

but i even in that, i know i have it so easy. i only have to hate half of myself. “real” gay people don’t have a “choice” i can “choose” to be gay or straight.

that’s really how i think of being bi. i can compartmentalize it and “be straight”

but here’s the thing, even when i’m “being straight” it doesn’t mean i’m suddenly “not gay.”

just because it’s baseball season doesn’t mean you’re not looking forward to football season. you don’t have to stop liking one just because it isn’t happening right now. 

being bi doesn’t mean you’re “straight” half the time, it means all the time you get to listen to people shame half of who you are TO YOUR FACE because “they didn’t know” you ARE what they’re talking about. that part doesn’t just go into hibernation when you’re “being straight." it means you find out, up front, that some people are only, ever, half ok with who you are. at most. makes so many more relationships fake from the beginning. being friends is contingent on you “staying straight” and staying acceptable. you know that if you ever allow “that part” of you out, you lose half the people, instantly. you’ve already heard their judgement and their opinions. and that’s fucking terrifying to hear and to carry around. all. the. time. constantly worried that if people realize you “tricked them” what’s waiting on the other side.

and then you add in that even in the realm of gay, bi-sexual still isn’t quite  accepted.

i’ve searched my whole life for a place to belong.

i’m too straight to be proper gay.

and i’m too gay to be proper straight.

i love country music and books. you can’t be queer and love country music. you’re supposed to love pop music and dance parties, not staying home and reading. i’m not into glitter and wine. sure brunch is good, but have you ever had a good steak and bourbon late at night?  i wear jeans but not flannel. i wear cowboy boots, but not doc martens. i’m too femme to be butch, but too butch to be femme.

i’m not the “right kind” of gay, even if i could accept myself for being gay.

it’s bad enough that i can’t even accept myself, now BOTH SIDES can’t accept me.

but i am good for a party trick. you know, for the girl who wants to give her boyfriend a special birthday present.

for the couple who wants to “keep things fresh” in the bedroom.

because that’s a super special feeling. being a side show piece. someone for fun, not someone for real.

i just want a place to belong. i want to belong WITH MYSELF. and i want to belong with others.

and i’ve learned to hide that. #singleasfuck has become a joke. if i can laugh at it then maybe it won’t hurt so bad admitting i can’t find someone who accepts me. STARTING WITH MYSELF.

you think being single is lonely? try hating the only person you spend time with.

so. here i am. recognizing this MASSIVE truth about myself. and now the world around me seems so open but so raw at the same time. and i don’t know where to go from here.

what in my life is real? what in my home is real? what are parts i’ve constructed to hide or try to blend in?

do i need to “gay up” my house now? do i need to start finding a way to “be more gay?”

what do i need to do to start really embracing and living that half of me?

maybe recognize that she’s quietly been there, all along, patiently waiting to be recognized?

it’s not an accident that in my own house, where i picked all the things, that all my artwork is of females. mermaids. tiki girls. portraits. all feminine. because that’s what i’m attracted to.

my neon rainbow. it’s not an accident that i bought that on impulse at target. it’s not an accident that it’s the first light i turn on in my living room every evening and the last light i turn off.

there’s a reason my country music is brandy clark, kacey musgraves, marren morris, jennifer nettles. women stronger and bolder than i am about using their voice.

there’s a reason all my favorite authors are women. joshilyn jackson. kate furnival. sara gruen. jk rowling. women who have learned to use their gifts and talents and not be afraid to make their stories be heard.

i am in awe of the women who know their own worth and fight for equality. the emma watson, kerry washington, gal gadot, rose mcgowan women out there standing up saying THIS ISN’T RIGHT and making the change happen. 

it goes beyond sexuality. some of those women are gay or bi. most of them aren’t. but i am so attracted to women because of who they can become. because of their strength. because of their fight and determination.

but i also still. love. men. i adore male partners and friends who bring a different perspective to my life. a different experience. a different set of expectations. men have taught me to be tough, thick skinned, resourceful. i appreciate the traditional sense of belonging they represent. i appreciate the order and construct they provide. i’m very attracted to masculinity, in the calm way. in their acceptance of the traditional role as provider and protector. NOT in the controller and testosterone soaked way. i have no use for big trucks and little egos and people who use fear to manipulate. 

my personality is very ordered and structured and traditional. logic and reason. doing things the proper way. making the proper choices. i long for a partner, male or female, that can help me have a structured, logical, loving, accepting life.

but i guess to look for that in a partner, i need to start looking for that in myself first.

did we just become best friends?

i'm not the fastest learner out there. there's some REALLY basic concepts that i'm still figuring out and coming to terms with. i'm still learning how to shift perspectives and trying to look at things from several points of view. this applies to big ideas about life and mid-life crisis moments to basic every day functioning like doing dishes.

I FUCKING HATE DISHES. with a fucking passion.

YES. i have a dishwasher. BUT, i also have a crazy brain that was raised in the house where we washed the dishes before we washed the dishes. YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.

i've never been in the "rinsing it mostly off is fine" camp. i'm FIRMLY in the "there shouldn't be a speck of  anything on it, use the scrubber WITH SOAP to get it clean before you load" person.

dishwashers are for sanitizing, not cleaning.

COME AT ME.

anyway, you can see why doing dishes is obnoxious. they take forever. especially in a house where *ahem* certain people *side eye at teenager (and myself)* don't always rinse off their dishes when they're done with them, then they sit by the sink until i force myself to do them, and by then things are dried on. and then doing dishes REALLY sucks. 

yes, i know, simple problem, simple solution. we've been working on it since my first apartment 20 years ago.

when it was just me making dishes because my oldest was only 9 months...

shut it.

ANYWAY. long story longer, the point of all this is i finally had a break through this morning in shifting the perspective a bit.

there were a LOT of dishes this week.

but wait, there were a lot of dishes THIS WEEK. that means we were eating at home this week more. which means we were eating healthier foods instead of drive through.

oh...and huh. look at that. i'm in a really good mood, up early on a saturday morning making breakfast and washing dishes.

huh.

it's almost like eating better makes my mood better and gives me more energy and makes my quality of life better.

well. THIS IS BRAND NEW INFORMATION.

so. you know. maybe doing dishes isn't so bad. maybe dishes aren't quite the arch-nemesis i've always thought of them as. 

maybe dishes and i can be friends.

you know. turn up the music, teenager ALWAYS disappears, so nice alone time...dishes and i may just be good friends.

still looking. haven't found it yet.

christopher robin believed in his crew. his neurotic, depressed, hyperactive, pessimistic, bumbling crew. unfailingly.

i have the knock off version of this quote in my room, of course on an adorable decorative wooden box on a side table next to a salt lamp and another decorative wooden box with another particularly cliche quote. it's a very stereotypical mid-30's single white girl bedroom. bitches love their salt lamps. *correction: bitches love their pink himalayan ionized positive energy infusing salt lamps*

the knock off version of the quote changes it the required trademark 10% to read: i'm stronger than i seem, braver than i believe, smarter than i think.

as different as night and later that same night.

i bought it on a whim a few years ago hoping that maybe seeing the words every day i could convince myself of their message.

same theory with the tattoo on my collarbone that says: love yourself (literally IN MY SKIN but i still haven't been able to achieve that one quite yet either).

now most days i feel vagueishly smart. especially when creating my own words like vagueishly. IT IS TOO A WORD SPELLCHECK. i just used it in a sentence twice. fuck off.

but most days i do feel a little smart. sometimes i even see my bachelors degree in it's frame (of course placed right behind the decorative quote box) and *almost* convince myself that it's a real degree. that i actually had to EARN it. i mean- it's a literature degree. not like, you know, a rocket surgery degree or anything. i just had to read a bunch of books and write a bunch of papers. i've been doing that my whole life. but, i guess, since the college gave it to me, maybe i actually earned it.

yes, you read that right. there is a not-insignificant portion of time i'm convinced that a college just, like, gave me a degree because i paid all my tuition, didn't have to repeat any classes, and finished all 4 years.

but at least most days, degree smart or not, i at least feel some version of smart.

bravery- that one is a bit of a joke. i'm not brave. i mean, my dad and my brother are brave. 4 generations of cops in my family tree. they literally run at danger, all the time. they're brave. i have friends that travel all across the country, all the time, even as crazy as the world is right now. friends that have literally flown into war zones. i know people that fight illness, massive life devastation, they take on impossible tasks and jobs with no idea what the outcome may be. i know EMT's and firefighters that every. single. shift. is a test of their mettle. 

what do i do? paperwork. read books. make sure the teenager has food and long sleeved shirts. no wait...hoodies.  no wait, flannel long sleeve shirts with a hoodie. NO WAIT... (can you guess what the conversation at our house has been this week?)

i've maybe had moments of bravery. leaving my marriage was scary, but i did that. and i've sat in the ER with the kid without losing my shit. i guess that was...maybe not brave, but at least not a hot mess?

i'm sure there's another example. 

and strength. ha. strength. i really like to pretend i'm strong but my family always treated me with kidd gloves.

in the 90's my dad wrecked his patrol car. he hit a patch of black ice and it threw his car off the road. the glove box was found 50 yards from the car. he had a broken collarbone, a few broken ribs, a punctured lung. i wasn't told about it until after he was out of the hospital.

same thing with my brother- he wrecked his bike, had to have a craniotomy and be placed in a medically induced coma for two weeks. i found out after he was out of the coma and moved to ICU.

when my dad died they waited several hours then called my mom and had her come tell me in person.

they all insisted that i wouldn't have been able to handle the news any other way. they "didn't know how i would react," so they tried to keep it from me as long as they could. i've never really thought of myself as a delicate flower, but you know, they must know something i don't. maybe they remember something from my childhood. maybe i reacted to things badly then. i've blacked out a significant portion of everything before 17, so i really don't know. maybe they're assholes, maybe they know something i don't.

the point of all this endless self depreciation?

i'm like- i don't even know the words. i'm at this place. it's not the swamp of sadness. it's not even the pit of despair. it's like...the chilean mine shaft of failure.

i've been applying for jobs here and there, been on a few interviews, looking without LOOKING. i'm putting off an intense job search, but at the same time, the ones i have applied for haven't worked out, so, is *actually* looking going to go any better?

i have so little bravery, so little strength, so little faith in myself that i talk myself out of jobs before i even hit the apply button.

school tutor? i can't fucking do that. yeah, i have a college degree, but that's not what i WENT to college for. i mean, they probably want people that took education classes, not just english classes.

barista? i mean, yeah, i learned to make coffee and i love it. but i couldn't actually like WORK at a shop with rush hours and cranky customers. and i mean, i never really fully learned how to take down a machine. i'm sure there's MUCH more qualified people out there.

a part time office assistant? i can't do that. i'm sure their office isn't at all like all the others i've worked in. it's probably like, way busier and harder than any of the places. i'll fall behind and make a mess of things and not be able to figure out their systems.

THAT'S RIGHT. I CAN TALK MYSELF OUT OF A JOB I'VE BEEN DOING FOR 20 YEARS.

i have friends that believe in me and encourage me ALL THE TIME. i wish like fuck i could catch a sliver of a glimpse of what they see.

and i'm scared ALL. THE. TIME. lately.

i would love to start my own business but before i can even get the full concept of the business written down i've already started a list of 101 ways it will fail.

i would love to push myself to actually publish but i already have myself convinced that it's a waste of everyone's time to put together a book no one will read.

i just. i don't love myself like my shoulder says. i'm not stronger than i seem. i'm not braver than i believe. i'm not smarter than i think.

i want to be. i wish i could find that path for myself. i'm still looking. but i haven't found it yet.

i want to learn how to be my own christopher robin.

we've got you covered

i've sat here the last three nights staring at my screen. i don't have writers block per say anymore- i have a list of ideas and musings that's growing constantly, things like:

if i could capture ALL my thoughts for just one day, i'd have blog material for a year. always have the best ideas/perfect sentences when i don't have something to write on OR i can't write fast enough to capture it the way it was in my head.

i'm going to start an underwear rental company called: "we've got you covered" and rent out underwear for special occasions. why? because finding out places like ross will take back underwear and sell it again as long as the tags are on it is DISGUSTING. and apparently, since the clerk made sure to point this little piece of gross out to me, plenty of people out there are disgusting.

i'm going to write an adult themed novel of all my sexcapades titled: "lessons learned the not so hard way."

musings on debating joining the dating world actively again including: where do you meet people? GOOD people. i go out on wednesdays, go to tweet-ups (twitter get togethers for those of you unfamiliar), first fridays (a monthly community event featuring local artists at local businesses), try to go to as many things as i can fit into the schedule that i'm invited to, i go grocery shopping, i chat with people in lines, i'm at a total loss.  where do you look????

back to the underwear topic, i scratched this down: to be confident in life you have to be confident in yourself. to be confident in yourself, you have to be comfortable and supported from the core up. this is a long way of saying I cleaned out my obnoxiously huge underwear drawer this weekend. (what is it with me and underwear lately?)

the start of HUGE blog posts like this: when I was in high school I was shoved into a myriad of counseling offices. one of those happened to be the youth pastor at out church at the time. the same one that made me announce to the whole youth group that i was pregnant because he didnt want them hearing rumors at school. he has since left the ministry to become a computer tech. but he was such a great leader. 
one of the meeting I had with him he asked what I was going to do when I grew up. in my teen angst I replied: if growing up means being like you, i'm never going to grow up.

now, I realize the error in my statement. I eventually did "grow up" in the sense that I have kids, a house, a dog, responsibilities. but at the same time, I haven't grown up because I'm not the one to kill dreams and ridicule people an make them feel terrible about themselves. ESPECIALLY teenagers.  <

so, you can see, lack of material isn't the issue right now.

i've been making BIG life changes that deserve to be written about, i've been working through things the RIGHT ways, learning, trying to improve myself...so, why haven't I been able to write?

i want to lie and say: gee, i have no clue.

truth is i know EXACTLY what's stopping me.

see, one of the big changes i made recently was leaving one of my jobs. i know it was the best decision for me BUT i'm not resolved in how it ended. it's been rattling around up in my head whether to leave well enough alone or go back and work on a better ending. i keep thinking that i took the easy way out- i only listed the reasons for leaving that rocked the boat the least, i didn't get into any of the meat of the issue. i don't like feeling dishonest, and i guess that's the best description for how i feel.

it's one of the strange little triggers i've been seeing in myself lately- i'm fighting SO HARD not to be my mom- i truly loathe every. single. thing. about her. but i fight so hard to be as different as i can that it can actually cause more problems.

one of the things i HATE the most is how she just sticks her head in the sand and ignores issues. pretend it never happened, ignore it long enough and people will quit talking about it. it drives me up a wall to see her do this over and over, so when i see myself doing something that even barely resembles it, i rebel and want to just pick and dig to make sure i didn't ignore ANYTHING or quit without giving a FULL effort. neither is a good approach to problems. i need to find balance somewhere in the middle. sometimes it's best to leave things alone. it really can be just a stupid pride issue and leaving it alone won't hurt anything besides my stupid little ego. sometimes there's some things that just. need. said. it can be an opportunity to help other people grow and if i'm thinking it, general logic says 3 other people are too and one of us needs to speak up and put a voice to it.

so am i actually feeling dishonest? am i just suffering from bruised pride? is it an issue better left alone? i'm working through it but it's taking up the main chunk of brain power right now and blocking the flow of much else.

speaking of triggers though, i'm learning quite a bit from the renew you course- tonight brought up another of my triggers and i was able to catch myself and think through and reason through my reaction- so there's little bit of pulling the head out of the ass going on.

tonight it was about "should-ing" myself. the last video worked through the 7 areas that we need to focus on and make sure we're dedicating time to in order to take better care of our mind for better experiences including being happier, healthier and more productive.

i worked through the list of 7 things, looked at the last 24 hours and which of those i had managed to do then looked at the last week, found the strengths, the gaps for improvement- you get the idea.

well, one of the 7 things of course is sleep health (which i obviously rock at, as i write this at 1230 at night). part of sleep time is sleep hygiene. so then i looked into the "proper sleep habits" of sleep hygiene.

are you starting to guess the spiral?

here's things i SHOULD be doing: SHOULD  be getting 8-10 hours of sleep, SHOULD be avoiding naps, alcohol 4-6 hours before bed, caffeine 4-6 hours before bed, sugar, spice, heavy food for 4-6 hours before bed, exercise, but not before bed, have the proper bedding, bed is only for sex and sleep- no reading, writing, music, tv...

the spiral just kept growing and i started getting overwhelmed and added to the list of SHOULD:

SHOULD be making home cooked meals every night.

SHOULD have a spotless clean house

SHOULD be doing homework and bedtime stories every night

SHOULD be working out daily

SHOULD be doing proper make up and skin care and grooming routine

SHOULD be maintaining craft/creative time

SHOULD be maintaining time with friends

SHOULD be making time for a partner./relationship

SHOULD be taking the kids to sports and extra curricular activities

SHOULD be volunteering at the schools or in the community...

and then i wrote out the SHOULD timeline: 

proper sleep: 10pm to 6am

work: 9am-4pm (8:30-4:30 with commute)

cut off for alcohol, food, caffeine: 4-6 pm so dinner ASAP after work

SO- after work and sleep i SHOULD be squeezing all the other list of SHOULD plus the new things i'm learning in...what...2.5 hours in the morning and 4 hours in the evenings? that's a LOT of stuff to fit in a small window.

and i sat back and looked at all the SHOULD and started getting SO MAD. i'm already a failure at enough things, now i look at all the SHOULD and realize how exponential my failures are. and i just wanted to reject all of it, INSTANTLY.

SCREW YOU. i don't want to even try to be healthy if means all that stress of SHOULD. how fucking boring would it be to live that way? you're so busy trying to be proper and healthy you have no time to LIVE. and fuck it all if life doesn't fly by fast enough on it's own to waste so much time on SHIT. pure SHIT. boring fucking life- getting up, going to work, checking off the list of should, and back to the beginning again. FUCK THAT.

knee jerk reaction was to walk away from all of it in a big pissy rage of FUCK YOU. 

then i stopped. and realized i was throwing the baby out with the bath water.

fuck. regroup.

look at it again. ok. so. maybe that list of 7 things is more of a sliding scale. we need all 7 parts to maintain a healthy self, but we don't HAVE to hit all 7 every single day. maybe it's more like a sliding scale of proportions-

yesterday i managed to hit 4 of the seven on the list and today was a pretty good day. today i've managed to hit 5 of the things on the list, we'll see how tomorrow goes, maybe it's only a 2 day. bottom line is i'm aware of all the pieces, aware of their importance, and aware that i need to make an effort to get to as many as i can. the world WON'T end if i don't hit them all. i'm not a failure as long as i keep trying and remembering they're there. the instructor keeps saying: imperfect actions. it's true. i'm never going to be the textbook idea of "perfect" but as long as i keep making imperfect actions i'm doing something right.

so that's something. i'm also learning to recognize each of the 7 parts and how to tell when one of them needs more attention or the proportional scale is getting out of balance. i talked to the instructor about it tonight- it's like a diet- you can eat all of one thing for a while, but eventually your body will tell you when it's missing/needing something. same with your mind- it will let you know when you need more in person connections, more sleep, more down time, more creative time, more physical time- AS LONG AS YOU'RE LISTENING for it. you eat salad for a week and suddenly you crave steak- your body is telling you there's a protein part missing. same with your mind- you can spend a week in intense work, or intense creating or only meditating- pretty soon you'll start to think maybe a night out is a good idea, or maybe it's time to take on a new project, maybe you'll be unable to avoid a nap- your mind will let you know how to balance out the scale again. 

so- learning not to knee jerk, learning balance, learning to tune into what's missing or out of balance. it's almost like i'm becoming a REAL grown up. scary thought, isn't it? those don't seem like BIG things, but they're already making a difference. there was also one other big break through about breaking patterns and learning how to get out of a rut i've been stuck in for the last...oh...15 years, but that's a whole other post after i've worked out a bit more of the grit on that one.