Sunday, July 19, 2009

5 Days

Today has been a pretty good day so far, but as I've learned being 5 days completely free of anti-anxiety meds, it could change in an instant.

I actually cried at the Emmy nominations because Chandra Wilson from Grey’s Anatomy received two nominations. Yes, I’m happy for her. It’s nice to see a woman get recognition for more than her streamlined body and blond hair. They were happy tears because I think she probably has worked very hard and deserved it. In my opinion this woman is a fierce actress and my happiness for her showed. On the other hand, I cried at the Emmy nominations.

Up next, Regis & Kelly, whom I enjoy very much. I love Kelly Ripa. She totally has my sense of humor. I like to imagine if Kelly and I ever got the chance to hang out, we would be forever friends. I know, just how all her fans feel. But, we really are very similar..WE ARE!!

Today, Regis called Harry Potter, Peter Potter and this made me laugh uncontrollably for a good half hour. I mean, anyone who is familiar in the least with Regis knows he mispronounces names all the time, but this struck me as the funniest thing I`ve heard in a while. The look of surrender on Kelly`s face was hilarious enough, but I laughed for a HALF HOUR. And not just a giggle, this was a belly laugh complete with gasps for air. Did I mention I was by myself?

While driving to Walmart later on to get some Emla cream to soften the blow of the tattoo I’m getting tomorrow (whole other blog) as part of my Mid-life Crisis Tour, “All Summer Long” by Kid Rock came on the radio. I automatically cranked it and started rocking out…which really is not unusual. I like my rock and this song reminds me of my summers growing up. I was completely into it, stopped at a light, music cranked and just like ever cliche of this sort of thing, a man in a sports car pulled up beside me. I looked out the corner of my eye and tried to suppress my inner rock goddess. I do have to admit this was really hard and I was feeling a bit put out because I really wanted to sing the next part.

“Catchin' Walleye off the dock. Watchin' the waves roll of the rocks. She’ll forever hold a spot inside my soul.”

And just as fast as I started, I began to cry. Yup, cried! Brutal. Bob Richie (aka Kid Rock) would be so disappointed. Not to mention the guy beside me (who was clearly going through a mid-life crisis of his own) must of thought I was a freak! In his defense, I am, sort of, right now. The look of confusion on his face right before the light turned green was enough encouragement for me to pull myself together.

I don`t blame him for the jaw dropping. Especially if you know what I look like. I`m not exactly the type you would catagorize as a rock chick; short blond hair, neat appearance, etc. He probably was stunned I was even listening to Kid Rock.

When I was younger, I was pegged more for the Duran Duran crowd ...that`s why I had an endless supply of metal t-shirts and hung out with the boys from the local bands. No, not in a nasty way. Gawd, people. I just liked to listen to them play. And I enjoyed their company very much. Still do. And in a sense they will, "forever hold a spot inside my soul."

Which I guess is the reason I cried.

With all these emotions it`s tough to see who the real me is anymore. However, it`s becoming clear the two years I was on the meds, my emotions lied rather dormant. It wasn`t as though I couldn`t feel, but I felt a lot less. And although the last few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster, I still think weaning off was the right thing to do. I mean who wants to miss out on the belly laughs, even if it costs you a few tears?

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Melaxin'

That's my new word for today. My soon to be 6 year old son said it today..not on purpose, but I thought it was clever. Sort of like the new words "Chillax" and the like. We (my son, my daughter and I) decided it meant relaxing and being mellow, since when he said it he was leaning back with his feet up in a chair in Winners, while I was trying to figure out a way to talk my husband into all the reason why we need a new desk.

I have to remember this word, especially on days like today. I'm 8 days into my 2 week vacation, which is great, except that my two week vacation is followed by a temporary lay-off...Not that I'm sweating it too much. I did volunteer. It seemed like the right thing to do since:

A) I needed a break BIG TIME.
B) It will actually save me money in the end because I don't have to pay full time child care for the summer (that is if I don't go buying things like a maniac..)
C) I probably saved someone who is the sole provider for their family a job.

Sounded great. I had many plans for the first two weeks which is my "vacation" because I still had to give my day care provider notice..so since I was paying her, thought I could get some thing done. These things included (but aren't limited to)the following:

1. Get my blog going that has been neglected
2. Finish my novel, the synopsis and get it out to agents
3. Network in the writing industry to help with #2
4. Get off my anti-depressant/anxiety drugs that I hate. (This process I began several weeks ago)
5. Paint my daughters room
6. Clean the kids toy area.
7. Train the new puppy.
8. Get myself in some kick ass shape and combat #4 in the process.
9. Get my house clean once and for all.
10. Paint and re-do basement to make room for my "work" area
11. Be the perfect stay at home Mom.

..and the list goes on..I won't tell you how much of this I actually got done. But, I will tell you that the entire first week was dedicated to the puppy. Anyone who has ever trained a puppy will know what I'm talking about. And anyone that knows this, knows I got nothing else done.

On a positive note, I have been working really hard on health and fitness and doing a bang up job. I've laid off the wine (except for a couple glasses on the weekend..come on I need to be realistic to myself too) and since I started 8 weeks ago of really kicking ass..I do see a difference, and every morning after my workout and 20min meditation, I think I could take on the world. By early evening however..I'm unpredictable.

Take today for example. I have all these things on my list (which I know is part of my problem..Along with depression and aniexty I also have a tendancy to be obessive compulsive). Well, my son slept really late, however he wasn't feeling well the day before so I kept the kids home with me. All was okay..until we decided to go to the park. Well, actually on the way back from the park. My son was racing and the puppy was trying to follow..that's hard to do when you have a leash. I have to tell my son over and over, DO NOT make the dog run after you..but he did anyway (after the 4th warning in 5 mins) and the puppy ran and yanked the leash right out of my hands. What comes next kind of scared me a little. I ran after the dog, twisted my knee (which is in bad shape to begin with) and after I caught her just wanted to (but didn't) lose control. I slapped the dog (okay, I kind of did)...but, what I really felt like doing was slap my son..so instead I yelled in the middle of the steet for all the neighbours to hear through their open windows and his big blue eyes immediately filled with tears.

And just like that I lost all the self confidence I'd built up this morning. I felt bad. I know it's probably a reprocussion of being 3 days completely off the meds..but, the mood swings are crazy. Don't get me wrong. I won't hit my son and the hit to the dog was really a tap, but I'm a perfectionist and there is not room in a perfectionists life to lose control.

So, the rest of the day I was mad at myself..which screwed with my self esteem. I just wanted some fries and a beer. I took the kids to do some errands and the traffic made me angry, like intense angry. My knee hurts so bad and I'm furious that it might screw up my workouts over the next few days. Something, at this point I can't afford. They make me feel strong and happy..They also make me feel pain (lmao) and I have a hard enough time talking myself into doing them without having an injury.

On the way home, in traffic, I was trying to think of ways to fight the depression. What I wanted was junk food and a glass of wine to unwind. I didn't want to cook supper because that would mean no satisfaction on my end and a REALLY sore knee from standing in the kitchen. So, I decided on Subway and a little bit of vodka mixed in with my water and Crystal Light. Hey, a girl as to live a little..Right?..Just a girl, her yappy puppy and a computer..Melaxin!

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

OMG!!

I have a crop circle on the back of my thigh!!..I saw it tonight as I was applying moisturizer after a much needed pre-mentrual soak. I shouldn't be that shocked, afterall I'm not immune to cellulite, not like my 67 yr old mother or 43 yr old sister. I've had it my entire life. I'd blame it on my Nana who had tons of it, but I don't think it's fair to blame someone who can't defend themselves.

I grew up on the chunky side, slimmed myself down (by "slimmed" I mean healthy..not "slim by Lindsay Lohan standards") in college and stayed that way. Then I had kids and went back to work full time, not that kids and work is an excuse. It isn't. When I was on maternity leave after my second I was actually in the best shape of my life. Then, I don't know what happened...maybe it's just life, maybe it's being really close to my 40th birthday, maybe (and here is the one I'm banking on) its been stress. It's not that I'm really overweight. I'm still considered healthy, just on the heavier side of healthy, but I don't feel comfortable and that's the key. I don't have unrealistic goals regarding my size..just 10-15 lbs and I'll be happy.

But, where the hell did the crop circle come from? and the bruises that are appearing out of nowhere? and the knee pain?..where did the aching knee pain come from?..(well, come to think of it Nana had bad knees too...) When did all of this happen? I watch my kids move, how my son can squat right down to the ground and up again without even thinking about it. I can't ever remember being able to do that.

I want to do that again. Perferably without ending up on crutches.

BTW, where the hell is spell check on this thing?

Monday, May 11, 2009

Parenting 101

I'm just going to ramble here. There as been no preconceived thought put into this blog. I'm working on two hours sleep, so please don't expect much. It amazes me what I can actually do on a few hours sleep. Before children I was no good for anything if I didn't get at least nine or ten hours. After you have a newborn in your life that you have to get up for every hour and half to feed, you understand what it's like to walk through life in a haze. You actually don't even realize how tired you are until they get a bit older and start to sleep a little more.

To catch me on one of these days is unpredictable. I could be energized, just to get through the day or I can be found sitting stunned and unable to communicate. Today I was functional, but unable to handle any deep, meaningful conversations. In short, I'm socially impaired.

Earlier, I took my daughter to get a new bike. She's not out of training wheels yet, but considering she's riding right now with her knees hitting her nose I thought we should take the leap.

So all the way to Toy R Us we (I say we because my daughter is now doing this with me) visualized the parking spot we wanted. Pulling into the packed parking lot, I saw our spot; she saw our spot and proceeded to remind me of this as we approached it, about a dozen times,

"There's a car in our spot, Mommy….There's a car in our spot, Mommy…There's a. …." And yes, indeed, there was a car in our spot, but just as we approached, the brake lights went on and it was backing out.
"YES!…We are going to get our spot," she says, and I nod, impressed by our inner power.

Just as the car is pulling out, another car comes racing around the corner and takes our spot. The Secret didn't mention what to do if an asshole in a BMW steals your spot, but I'm sure whatever it is, it would be positive. I would have failed the test because I was pissed off and nowhere near positive. My daughter, however, (in all her youth and innocents) continued to be optimistic.

"Maybe we weren't made for this one. Let's try another," she said. Sometimes I wonder just who should be parenting who. She is wise beyond her years. Sure enough, I took another round at it and there it was. The same spot, but only one row over. Classic.

Outside of Toys R Us were the bikes that were on sale in their flyer. She immediately took to one of the powder blue ones. Because I was behind schedule for the day and a little bit loopy from the night before, I took the sticker to purchase the item and ran for the entrance. As soon as we hit the store, the begging started. Forgetting the fact I was buying her a brand new bike, she started to beg me for the little animal things with big wobbly heads called, "Littlest Pet Shop, Pets" She collects them. I said, "You must be kidding, right? I'm buying you a bike here. I mean it's not even your birthday or anything!"

She looked at me with her big doe eyes, "I just want to look at them."

Okay, this I can understand. I've done my fair share of looking longingly in a store window, drooling over what can't be mine. As we approach the section of Littlest Pets, I hear a gasp. I look down at my daughter and her jaw is hung low and staring straight ahead. She just starts to walk forward in a trance and I follow, past the Littlest Pets, completely confused.

We get to the back of the store, back where the rest of the bikes are kept. The ones that aren't on sale. She stops dead in front of a rack full of bikes, her eyes resting on one and only one. I didn't need to know which one it was; you could literally see it from a mile away.

It was yellow. Not a pretty little pale yellow. I'm talking, "put your sunglasses on" yellow. If I've never mentioned this before; her favorite color is yellow. My least favorite color is yellow. This bike was the ugliest ass bike I've ever seen in my life. If fact, they were on sale the week before and they sold, zero. The bike is fucking ugly. It was FUGLY people!!

"I want this bike. Mommy, PLEASE. I really want this bike. I love it."

Now, I'm stuck. You see my daughter is unique. She's different, creative, follows the beat of her own drummer and I embrace this any chance I get. I don't want her to lose this quality, but at the same time, the social awareness comes out in me and I find myself trying to talk her out of this bike. I'm desperately trying to get her to pick another. Nothing is going to deter her. She wants this bike! This fugly bike.

So, as a responsible and loving parent what would you do? You wouldn't think such a thing should matter at all because social ridicule didn't start with me until at least junior high, but today it starts much sooner and this bike SCREAMED, "Tease me at the playground"!!!

I'll tell you what I did and sitting here now, I'm not proud of it, but I bribed my precious daughter. I told her the fugly yellow bike was exactly ten dollars more then the powder blue one she agreed to earlier. I gave her the option to either take the yellow (fugly) bike and only the bike, OR I would get her the powder blue one we agreed on and buy her a new Littlest Pet…and then I prayed.

She picked the powder blue bike and the toy and as I raised my head up to say my thanks, a slight bit of guilt crept in. I grabbed my cell phone and called my husband for support. Thankfully, he thought I did the right thing (which is probably why we are married), but I couldn't stop feeling as if I was stomping all over her self-expression.

I hung up and pulled her aside to try to explain to her in six-year-old words, what my concerns were. Have you ever tried this? Don't bother. I explained how I wanted her to be true to herself and all that crap and she looked at me and said, "It's okay, Mommy (she always reassures me). I want the blue bike." And with a slight grin, raised her head and looked me straight in the eye and said, "After all, two things are better than one."

She gets this from me.

Monday, April 27, 2009

The Wagon

A couple of weeks ago I was kicked off the diet wagon. I've been hanging on by my fingertips, with my body being dragged behind it, accepting the road burn because I am nothing if not stubborn. However, this weekend someone stepped on my fingers and forced me to let go and the wagon spun off around the corner and I didn't have the energy to catch it.

So here I sit on the curb waiting for it to come back around. The wait has made me contemplate how wrong I was. I will beg forgiveness and hope they let me back on.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Thank You, David

I miss him already. David (my therapist) and I had our last appoinment today. I was blinded sided because I thought we would have one more before he left.

He was pretty impressed with me today. I told him I went in to my boss and asked to be included if there was another round of layoffs. Now, I know what you're thinking; You're asking to be layed off?...Well, yes...You see, I've finally come to terms with one of my main aniexty problems. I hate my job. This isn't to say I hate the place I work for or that I have an asshole for a boss. I don't. In fact, I thrived there. I'm a star. They've always been kind and supportive. I will never forget the look on my bosses face when I asked him to lay me off. Now, this doesn't mean he will. In fact, he told me he didn't want to. And as David pointed out, I have to be prepared for my next move if they do not, in fact, lay me off. Am I going to continue to let life happen to me or am I going to take control?...which is my entire problem.

All my life, I've just let life happen and hope for the best. I've been an outstanding employee. I've worked hard and did everything that was asked of me and more, but after 14 years I've had enough. My body as had enough and has been telling me so for the last year in the way of panic attacks, stomach problems etc... I've been afraid of quitting and starting over. And now in light of my 40th birthday coming up in August, I'm having some mid-life issues. I don't like to go to work, I don't want to be there, but at the same time I've worked really hard for the money I have invested in this company for my retirement. However, the other day it just struck me. You're 40, not 60..You will be here for another 25 years before you retire. Can you stay here for another 25 years? The answer is no. I would rather work until I was 75 and do what I enjoyed doing then spend my time hunched in a cubicle and waiting..waiting...Waiting for what? There is no saying I'm even going to make it until I'm 65!!!

So now I know I have to leave. I need to be an example to my kids who have only heard me complain about my job. I need them to see someone working hard (no matter what the age) to make themselves happy. So they know happiness isn't something you're deserving of but something you bring upon yourself. I need to do this for me, to prove to myself that I can. I need to take control of my life and stop leaving it up to chance. But, I'm incredibly scared.

Thanks David, you're a star and I will always remember your quiet, nondirectional guidance and patience..just sitting there in your starched shirts and sweater vests waiting for this crazy woman to come to her senses and recognize the real issues. You're a blessing. All the best!

Thursday, April 23, 2009

My Own Oz

I’m at a crossroads. I’ve been here for a good while, just sitting here, waiting for something or someone to come along. If they finally do come, I’m not sure if I want them to stop and pick me up or just want them to slow down long enough to point me in the right direction.

The most famous crossroads I can think of was of course, The Wizard of Oz. Dorothy, after following the yellow brick road for a while comes to two roads, crossed and doesn’t know what direction to take. Thankfully, after some time standing there alone and uncertain, she meets the Scarecrow and together they choose a path. They don’t know if it’s the right one, but they choose it together and head out unaware of what the future holds.

I can identify with Dorothy. I’ve been waiting for a sign or just someone to kick me in my ass to get me moving. I know what I want to do. I actually know what I have to do to accomplish it, but to do it means having to make a decision, a sacrifice; I have to pick a road and no one can help me make the decision but me. In a sense, I feel more like the scarecrow most days, except for the fact that I do indeed have a brain. But, at the end of most days my body is drained, tired and lifeless much like I’ve always imagined his body to be.

If I want to write, I have to write. It’s simple, but, isn’t so easy after a long day of work in my death trap (cubicle) doing something I'm totally bored out of my mind with but, is as stressful as an assignment from Donald Trump (which I could do, by the way). After work is filled with parental duties (none of which I want to give up) and then, finally, I have time and I think about writing every night, I do…But, then my body starts to channel the scarecrow and all I can think about is watching some mindless television for a half an hour and then hitting the sheets.

My mind is exhausted. I think all day. Something I don’t have in common with the Scarecrow. At work I think about, well, work and home and the kids and my marriage and my future…about the cost of getting the front steps fixed, how my house needs cleaned, the rash on my son’s face, how we need a vacation but can't possibly afford one. I think about how I want to write, how I need to write if I ever expect to get published. I think about taking a course and then I think about how much work it’s going to be and if I can’t find the time to blog, when exactly am I going to find the time to finish weekly assignments? I wonder if my age is a factor, if I should have stuck with it years ago when I started this craziness. Too late to worry about that now, I tell myself and then I start my NEW practice of thinking positive and I start all over again. It’s a self destructive process because I think so much about things I get totally overwhelmed and in return, get nothing accomplished.

I guess I want what everyone wants. I want a guarantee. I want to be certain if I put the time in, I will achieve my goals. I want someone to lay it out for me. Let me see how the movie ends before the premiere. I want to know if I should sacrifice right now or should I just enjoy what I have, because I have a great deal of wonderful things in my life.

Unfortunately, just like Dorothy and the Scarecrow, there is no telling what would have happened if they went the other way. Chances are the witch would have still found them and they would have had to battle her and her funky monkeys…BUT,
if they’d gone the other road, they might not have met the Tin man or the Lion and made great friendships during their journey to reach the wizard.

Whatever road I take, I know I will be okay, but do I take the easy way, stay the course, work until retirement and in the end enjoy my life just the same or do I take a chance, make time to write, sacrifice my free time (whatever that is), a clean house and possibly the security of a good job all in the name of chasing a dream?

I’ve already determined I don’t need a brain and there is no question I have the heart. I guess what I’m lacking is the courage, which in the end is everything. I am a Leo so it figures I'd follow the Lion. So that’s it then, I’m afraid of failure. All I need is a little courage and most definitely, the little red shoes.

Monday, April 20, 2009

A conversation between a Mother & 5 year old son

Son: "What are you doing?"
Me: "Playing Chess."
PAUSE
Me: "Do you know what Chess is?"
Son: "What do you think I am, a weiner?"

Sunday, April 12, 2009

I'm Finished!

This Friday was the last day of my Sans Alcohol Experiment. In other words, for Lent I gave up alcohol...well, not exactly for Lent because if that were the case the experiment would have ended today, but I said from the beginning Good Friday was the day and considering I'm not exactly religious, I got to make up the rules.

I've been having a really tough time lately losing this annoying 10-12 lbs I've gained over the last year. It not like I don't exercise because I do, I just wasn't going at it as much as I use to...maybe three, sometimes four times a week..mostly running. And if I'm being honest, I hadn't exactly been cutting back the food...but, I don't stuff my face either...So, when I sat down and really looked at the last year trying to figure out what had changed, I came to the conclusion that I was drinking more then I use to. Instead of a couple drinks on a Friday/Saturday night and the occasional night out with friends, I was now opening wine in the middle of the week. Just a glass while I made dinner. Then, another with supper. Soon, I was having a couple of drinks Fri/Sat/Sun. Then a couple became three, four and sometimes five. Not every night, but still. Naturally this was my problem with shedding the lbs, but it was also a bad trend that I had to shake.

I have quite a bit of alcoholics in my family. Neither one of my parents, however, close enough that let's just say they left their impression on me. This being said, depression & anxiety also run in my family...both of which I've suffered over the last couple of years...so turning to alcohol as a crutch was, of course, following the course of others I know.

This isn't to say that I'm an alcoholic. I'm not. But, I did use it as a stress reliever this past year, instead of just social settings. So by swearing off alcohol for Lent, I took back the reigns. I used Lent as an excuse for anyone who asked..believe me there are a lot of people in social settings who ask why you're not drinking.

It wasn't hard. Even tested in the worst circumstances; family dinners, bars with old friends I haven't seen in years, dinner parties, I never cheated. I worked out five-six times a week because I could. I wasn't tired on Saturday or Sunday mornings. I felt better overall.

So Good Friday I waited until 5pm and open my bottle of wine. The first sip was weird, but it's amazing how you can jump right back on the bike. A few hours later the bottle was empty and I felt defeated. Not because I drank it, but because I can never give myself praise for too long before I find a reason to cut myself up.

Last night (Saturday) we had dinner guests and yet again the wine was flowing. I told myself I was allowed two..I drank four..and today I'm tired and lack energy. I haven't worked out for two days and I'm so bloated my fingers are like sausages.

I learned a lot more about myself then whether or not I could lose weight if I stopped drinking...which by the way was a measly four lbs...I know now when things get heated, when I have a bad day or when a panic attack occurs, I have the strength to get through it myself. I also learned I have to go back to the way things were when alcohol wasn't a "part" of my life, but just an occasional visitor.

I'm giving myself a break this weekend. It was like I just graduated and needed to celebrate. I would say my new rules start tomorrow, but the truth is I'm going on a much needed four day trip with two girlfriends to Banff on Wednesday...I'm going to forget my problems and aniexties and try to have a good time. I'm Bob, from the movie "What About Bob?"..I'm taking a vacation from my problems. My friends will have to tie me to the ski lift the way they did to Bob on the boat in the movie...lol.

When I get back, new rules come into affect and I now know I can follow them. I'm chalking up the past couple of days to "training" for Banff...

Next year I'm going to have to give up French Fries...Is there a twelve step program for that?

Monday, April 6, 2009

Tragedy Is Not My Destiny

I'm an anxious person. Hence, the panic attacks which preceded my therapy sessions. Without knowing it, I consistantly plant negative thoughts in my head whenever things are going right for me...depressing, isn't it? It seems I can't allow myself to enjoy the good things without worrying when the "Happy" will expire...like it's on loan and I have to pay the price for trying to keep it....like I have a "Happy" bookie and I can't pay up.

I could go on and explain the ins and outs of "why" I'm like this...but, to anyone else it's just boring, plus extrememly non-productive on my part. The short story is, things have happened in my life and to those around me that have made me feel there's a pattern to life. Tragedy always follows happy. It's now becoming clear to me (after much work..with much to go) that I can be happy without paying a price.

I don't have to sit around and wait for the other shoe to drop...so to speak. And anyway, who says there is another shoe? We've all seen a lone shoe on the side of the road...were they dropped? Are they the result of someone's negativity? That being said, if a shoe has to drop, nothing says it has to be a steel toed work boot, right? It could, in fact, be a flip flop...not the huge, thick wedge ones, but a cheap plastic one from Walmart...one that doesn't hurt if you happen to be standing directly under it, just one that makes you stop for a second and wonder where it came from.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Getting To Know Me

"I wish I knew then, what I know now..."
Wouldn't it be brilliant if you really did? Are there people that actually do? I certainly didn't. Thinking back I didn't know myself at all. Most teenagers don't. They think they do, only to find they really never did.

I, on the other hand knew at the time I didn't have a clue. I didn't understand me....why I did the things I did? said? etc.. I've always been in a state of confusion. Very rarely was I ever sure of any decision I ever made, even though I've come to find out I have great instincts. I wish I'd learned to trust myself earlier. I wish I would've liked myself back then. If I had, I'm sure I would be doing great things now.

As it is, I'm just starting to like myself better and attempting to accept me for me. It's a struggle, believe me, when you're use to constantly questioning and putting pressure on yourself. We are always hardest on ourselves. I'm working on being my own best friend. To treat myself as I would others. I've been paying attention to this a lot lately and let me tell you...I'm a real shitty friend to myself. So, I'm focusing on stopping that. Which explains the "allaboutmetour." I don't want it to sound selfish, but it most definitely is. It's time for me to be a bit selfish. To give myself a break and make time for me. I need to get to know me...which actually feels like one of those really awkward silences between two people who have known each other for a while, but have never been forced to spend time alone and are struggling to make conversation. It's weird and complicated which are two words I would never use to describe myself.

Normally, I'm not this serious. Truthfully, I felt like I should write a blog since it's been a week and I didn't have a topic or the time to sit and write one. This week wasn't all that exciting. So, I just started the blog and let my fingers fly and this is what you got. Don't get disappointed. I do get better. I just have to get use to the whole process and quit putting pressure on myself to write one...See what I mean?

Saturday, March 14, 2009

What The Hell Am I Doing Here?

So tonight probably isn't the best time for me to begin my blog. My head hurts, I ate too much and I'm totally neglecting my children by encouraging them to turn their heads to mush by playing Wii...

That being said, I needed to start sometime and I was completely wasting time anyway just surfing the same stupid sites I check everyday. The fact is, I should be working...well, specifically writing..but, for some reason I can't bring myself to. I'm halfway through my rewrite of a novel and it's going painfully slow. Literally, chapter 8 is 2 inches from my laptop and I can't bring myself to pick it up. It's been there for a week. Why? If I had to venture a guess, I would say I know I should do it, I know I have to do it, so I don't..I'm a bit stubborn that way..Very unproductive, I know. It's just one of the many things I've been trying to learn about myself over the past couple of years. Why I'm queen of self sabotage.

Let's start with, I'm in therapy..yeah, I said it..I go to therapy..and as far as I know, I'm not crazy (unless, I am and he's not telling me). I totally have no business being there. I have a nice life. I'm healthy, have a job, a great family. I wasn't abused. My childhood was normal. Yet, there I sit, spilling my guts out to a total stranger and as it turns out, loving it. His name is David, my therapist, and he totally looks like one. He sits straight as a pin. His pants have the crease from the iron running down the front. His shirts are starched and the collar stands tall out from his sweater vests. Before we begin each session he takes a deep inhale and slowly lets it go with his eyes closed. I know, at first I had my reservations, but as it turns out he's pretty good and I miss him when I have to wait between appointments. So, it was even harder for me to bare when he told me he was retiring. It felt like he was breaking up with me. We only have a couple more sessions together. I don't know if I will continue with someone else. I don't think I can go through the whole "getting to know all about you" thing again.

This brings me to the blog. The way I figure, I should be "free falling" (a writing term for writing anything once a day for practice) and I LOVE emailing friends so I thought I should just do one massive email to whoever is in cyberspace that wants to listen. It'll be my own kind of therapy. Who knows, I might not need another David.

Oh, who am I kidding? Yes, I probably will. In fact, I think everyone should have a David and I definitely don't think it needs to be this "secret affair" hidden away from people...although I do hide it. Well, I don't hide it..it's just that I don't go around offering up the information. Some of the most emotionally stable people in the world go to a therapist. Then again, you could counter with some of the most unbalanced people in the world, also go to therapy..but, I digress..