Under the Microscope

29 10 2009

I think that this is a good time to tell you why I began this blog. This is not my first blog, but it is the only one I know is going to stick. I own maybe a dozen URLs ranging from being a wife to being a realtor and in college I even made my own vanity site with pictures, etc, but none of those stuck. I’ll tell you why. None of them were true.

Sure they may have had pictures and cute quotes and told true stories, but they weren’t what I thought about on a regular basis, they weren’t who I really was, so they fell off like old skin that I just couldn’t fill up anymore. If you want to read great funny stories and fabulous household tips and see really pretty pictures- This isn’t the site for it. If you feel inadequate, uninspired,  awkward and alone, this is for you, because I am you. And if you see me get better, you will know that you can get better. This is the whole reason for it.  The reason I posted my before and after pictures is because one  lady wrote me this:  “Thanks for posting this, I was too embarrassed to post pics, but my room looks just like yours did, so if you can do it, so can I!!!!”

The reason I share all of my muck and embarrassment is for the same reason. Do I think that airing out garbage is going to make me famous? NO. I won’t be able to run for office and I won’t be able to pretend that I have everything together anymore. Truth is, I haven’t really shared it with many people I know, only people I don’t because they are kinder. Why are we kinder to strangers than we are to people we know? I think it’s a helluva lot easier to pat someone on the back and say, hey I’ve been where you are, or I AM where you are, when we don’t know them, because we don’t have to look at them everyday, and most importantly, they don’t look at us everyday. Scrutinize us and follow our every move waiting for us to fall, waiting for us to fail.

I also share because your testimony is your greatest weapon against the forces of evil. The story of how God has delivered you from the lion’s den lets others know that God is great and can deliver them too. It is hope-giving. And it holds me accountable to the changes I am making. You may not comment all the time, but when I look on my statistics and see 74 people reading, I may not know 74 people that have this address, but I feel the responsibility of keeping my promises to those 74 people. I don’t feel like keeping my promises when it’s just me because I have a bad track record with myself.

The truth: You can hide and be in denial about your life if you want to.

I don’t. I just want to get better.

I’ll leave you with one of my all-time favorite movie scenes. If you want to follow me just to pick my life apart or feel superior, than I feel sorry for YOU because the brick wall surrounding your heart is tall and that means that no one can get in.

Advertisements




Extreme Bedroom Makeover

28 10 2009

I was almost tempted to post a picture of a regular person, then one on the floor drunk— Get it? Before and AFTER Shots?  Hahahaha.

Anyway…

Ok. Just so you know, I’m not the miracle worker. I did not wash ALL of those clothes. I separated them into piles. Cleanish, and filthy or questionable and they are all in my guest room, I am going to finish the  laundry today. I’ve lost a bit of weight so I need to go through and sort them into give away and keep piles because there is no earthly reason for me to have so many damn clothes.

It’s so weird to actually see it in the harsh light of day, how dirty the room was. I mean I have been avoiding it (and making it worse) since I’ve been depressed, and my husband is so busy it really falls to me, cooking, cleaning, laundry- etc. I thought that when we bought this house WOW 2600 square feet, we are going to be SOOOOOOOOOOOO organized! There is a place for everything. Which is true, there are PLACES for everything, however there is also SO much space to throw crap around, and three bathrooms to clean– THREE! It feels so wonderful and peaceful in there now, it’s amazing. I also posted a picture of the gorgeous view from our bedroom window, with the trees and the greenbelt in the background.

Honestly, I went shopping yesterday for new bedding, because there is nothing worse than cleaning your room and it STILL being ugly. Flylady always says that the key to making your bed every morning is getting bedding you really love, here is a great article and blogtalk radio link to making your bed every day from flylady. My goal is going to be to at LEAST make my bed every day, now that there are no more “it will still look ugly” excuses.

I picked out deep purple sheets from Target last Christmas, and have been trying to find a comforter to match them for JUST AS LONG. Finally, we just gave up and slept with our white down comforter w/ no duvet and the purple sheets which I now loathe because they match nothing. It drove me crazy. So I left the house yesterday with full intention of getting new bedding. I visited Target and Ross and everything was either too expensive, too ugly, too scratchy or too cheap looking. Then I went to Walmart and found this soft, gorgeous set that matches everything I already have ON SALE for $59! Yes! I am so pleased with it, I even bought the wreath, and two throw pillows, all for under $100. If you go on the website you can also order, but you won’t get the sale price unless you’re in the store I guess.

My husband was in utter SHOCK when he got home. I had to wipe his jaw off the floor. He was all smiles the rest of the night. I have to say it was not easy and it took awhile. And it is by no means perfect, since I still have alot of stuff that I just stashed away to deal with later. But here’s the thing: it feels peaceful, and I’m trying for progress not perfection. I will take pictures of the piles and get rid of them one by one, because posting it up here online makes it REAL.

Next up: I am going to post pictures of the guest room- AKA ground zero of laundry. I thought it may be dumb to do this, but I gotta tell you, there is NOTHING more motivating than knowing you’ve gotta post pictures of your crap because you promised. P.S. Thanks so much for the encouraging emails I’ve been getting. Please know that you are not alone. If you want to send me before pictures of your own impossible project, let me know and I can hold you accountable, like you are holding me!





Off the Wagon

24 10 2009

Life was going really really really well. I mean, I’ve been really happy in a great mood, grateful toward everything, even the tiniest blessings were getting acknowledged and praised. I have been having some incredibly productive days that begin with scripture and end tired and satisfied. The kind of days that I dream of having. The kind of days that make life worth living. I was a little sick last week, while it stopped me from going to a few meetings and I slept more than my schedule allowed, I was still doing well. I didn’t post on my recovery blog because it didn’t feel like I had anything to recover from. I felt wholeness.

Then Thursday morning, I slept late. Then I got a phone call from a client asking me to withdraw her offer on a house I know is perfect and one-of-a-kind for her. Then I didn’t put the trash out before the garbage truck came. Then I didn’t go to the gym, didn’t go to Alanon, and didn’t shower. Then I ate chips in bed and watched youtube videos. Then my husband came home at 1pm from school after not having slept at all the night before from working on homework and I had the nerve to complain to him about how “dissatisfied” I was. Then I pestered him about whether or not he “loved me” or was “mad at me”. Mostly because I felt like an unloveable lump of crap that I was really really mad at myself.

Then he got this really really sad, frustrated look on his face and said, “You fell off the wagon, huh?”

Nothing mean, or condescending. He walked in the bedroom and began picking clothes up off the bedroom floor to put in the washer. I turned away from him in bed, ashamed. He went downstairs to make himself lunch. I layed in bed. Ashamed and angry, desperately willing myself to change, but not having the strength to even move. I tried to sleep some more but only succeeded in wanting to die.

Then I thought about my husband. How he didn’t get any sleep the night before and had still gone to school.

How he was going to work right after lunch, because he had to pay the bills to keep my depressed and lazy ass in chips to eat in bed, electricity and internet so I can while away the precious days that God has given me in comfort. I was disgusted with myself. What nerve did I have to tell him what a shitty day I was having, when the only thing that was shitty that I had no control over was the client. The rest was all on me, baby.

I would love to tell you that I immediately got up and didn’t waste the rest of the day. That I showered and got dressed and ate well and went to the gym, the office, read my scriptures, cleaned my house. Anything that was productive. That I was so inspired by the thought of my husband working so hard for us, that I just had to get up and get going. That I vowed that minute to do everything in my power to change and never look back.

It’s not true though. I did take a shower, and got dressed in some comfy sweats and went downstairs and kissed my husband and told him that I would get right back on the wagon. That he didn’t have to worry anymore, that things were getting better. That things were GOING to get better. He looked at me with compassion, and said, “I hope so.” Then went back to his sandwich.

Then he went upstairs to take a nap, and I went with him. I slept the rest of the afternoon and into the night. He went to work. He asked me if I would wash some socks. I didn’t even get up to do that. He came home at one AM, exhausted and crawled into bed with me again. He cradled me in his big arms and I wailed, “you shouldn’t hug me. I didn’t wash the socks. ” He said he had been getting them off of the floor and he’d just do that again. I sniffled, “you can have mine tomorrow, they didn’t even touch the ground today.”

“Ok,” he said, holding me tightly.

Sometimes I want him to hit me and scream. It would feel more appropriate. Sometimes I want him to threaten me with leaving and falling out of love, anything to shake me up. But he doesn’t. He holds me and I’m secure and I have no reason for acting the way I do. I was doing so well. What happened?





Highschool Reunion

25 09 2009

On Tuesday, I went to a weight watchers meeting. You remember, I’m a meeting junkie now (almost typed meeting chunkie, hahahaha) anyway. The leader asked, “Anybody in here who is here because they are getting ready for an event?” There was one lady who was going on a cruise, another who was going to a wedding, then I piped up with, “I joined because I wanted to go to my reunion, but decided not to go because I got fat.” Immediately like four people voiced their opinions, “GO!” “Just do it!” “NO one cares” “They all got fat too!” “It’s not high school anymore!” My favorite, “If you go they’ll think you’re filthy rich.” Excuse me?? “Yeah, because those are the only people who go to those things, the ones who are filthy rich and want to brag, or the ones who are still skinny!” Hahaha.

Seriously, it got a big reaction. It made me start thinking too. I am so damn tired of having to be perfect. Because I am the worst perfect person I have ever met. I mean there is nothing that I have not failed miserably at, yet I always want to be perfect. Notice I didn’t say “strive” for perfection, it’s not a trying thing, just an idle want, and then hide myself when I’m not perfect. Anybody wonder why I’m in hiding so much? Why I barely leave the house some weeks. Why I am constantly lying when it’s not really a big deal. Exactly. I was taught that if you are not perfect, you are NOBODY. So I couldn’t let everybody think I was NOBODY. I have to be SOMEBODY. So, I am going to be perfect or be alone. That’s it.

So I’m alone a lot.

But I did decide after everyone’s prodding and encouraging that I will go to my high school reunion. I will go and drink punch and dance to stupid 90s songs and try and make up some excuse for never finishing college when I was all Gifted and Talented and Advanced Placement in high school. I will try to be gracious and listen to people talk, instead of wondering if I look skinny. And I will not worry about what those people are saying about me behind my back, because chances are I am saying worse things about myself to my face. Those are my promises.
Just so you know, I have only been to two Al-Anon and one ACOA meeting this week, I have been doing kind of crappy on the program, AKA not doing the program. I need to get with it, this is basically life or death here folks. Maybe I’ll look back on this 10yr reunion as  a turning point in my life, and my 20th I’ll be happy, recovered, have well-adjusted kids and a good career and no apologies. That’s what I’m holding out for. Oh yeah, and if WW works, I’ll be skinny too! Basically PERFECT. ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Old habits die hard, what can I say.

//

//





Meeting My Inner Child

23 09 2009

It really does sound like a bunch of psycho-babble hooey. Reparenting your inner child, what a crock!!! That’s what I thought at first, my little inner child can go climb a tree, or not. I think I’ll just ignore her, like she was pretty much ignored her whole life. Then I went to ACOA and got this itty bitty pamphlet that had me sobbing for my teeny tiny younger self. This was the excercise: Go through old pictures of you and revisit that time in your life, reimagine what life was like for that little kid.

This was not an easy thing to do. It was painful and extremely disturbing. Not the memories, I mean I don’t have one of those childhoods that make your hair stand on end. I wasn’t molested or abused, just ignored and belittled. The thing that disturbed me the most was the fact that the pictures of the school aged me,6 and up, I looked at with complete and utter disgust. I looked at the first grader with the messy head and wrinkled shirt and thought, “You didn’t take good care of yourself then, and it set the pattern for your whole damn life.” The picture of me on mythirteenth birthday, eyes red from crying, staring listlessly to the side as everyone tried to get me to smile for the camera,, I thought, “God, get over it, you are so weak.” The picture of me at my highschool graduation, “You’re so fat and ugly. ” Me sitting on a fountain in front of my university, ” I bet you never thought you wouldn’t finish, you never finish anything.”

Scary right? But when I saw the pictures of me as a tiny little girl, four years old on the swings, a baby on my dad’s chest, I started to cry and I had such compassion and love for this little girl. I wondered how on earth my mom could’ve never loved me when I was so cute and so sweet and so innocent. I mean, when I was older (6yrs old, yeah right) I knew better and could take care of myself. But so young? I hadn’t had time to mess up yet. How come she didn’t love me? I’m not asking. I know that she did and does love me, but these were my thoughts when I saw these pictures.

Reading up more on the subject, I have read that your inner child stalls emotional growth when you are abandoned and go into survival mode. One thing I realized about the timing between 1-5 year old me and 6+ me was that my mother stayed home with me when I was a baby till the time I started kindergarten. When I began kinder, my dad lost his job and she had to start working, she became a teacher. I remember my mom coming home so drained, so tired of kids that all she wanted to do was sleep and for us to shut up. If we ate homecooked meals they were from my grandmas and she never really played with us.

At school though, her and her kids would do the funnest things, pop-up books, big paper mache dinosaurs, cooking experiments. She was one of those teachers that twenty years later kids come back to her and thank her for being the biggest inspiration in their lives. I remember I would try and point this out to her sometimes and she would say, “I was meant to be a teacher, I wasn’t meant to be a mother, I’m an unnatural mother.” And that was it.

It turns out, that that was what her mother told her, “You are an unnatural mother, you’re not going to be a good mother.” And she passed that thought onto me. When I got married one of the first things she said to me was, “Don’t have any kids, you’re too selfish. Wait at least five years until you’re sure your marriage is going to work out.” Real positive thinking right. This is a curse that I am most definitely NOT going to pass onto my children. It’s bullshit. How can you tell someone who is holding their newborn baby that they are an unnatural mother. No wonder she always pulled away. She was afraid of failure, and now it is her biggest regret. She did fail. Her worst nightmare came true. She became her mother.

My job before I become a parent is going to be reparenting this little five year year old girl that felt abandoned, that didn’t feel loved. I have to see her through God’s eyes and not the eyes of a mother who was told that she wasn’t a good mother so never tried to be. It’s going to be hard. I realized this when I was at a bible study recently and one of my best friends was braiding this little girls hair. I got so damn jealous. OF A SEVEN YEAR OLD. I thought, she doesn’t need that, she’s spoiling that girl. No wonder that kid is such a brat. She’s not really a brat, she’s a cute kid, that gets alot of attention since she is so cute and so little and that makes my little five year old really sad, because everybody just sees this twenty-eight year old who needs to take care of herself. I haven’t quite figured out how to be loving and stop the voices of constant criticism for the little child that I was, but I believe I am on the right track at least. And now I know why I love to color and eat so much ice cream too. Self discovery is a wonderful thing!