What, What, What Could It Be??

Do I know what it is and I'm afraid to say it? Let's have a heart to heart. But what if my heart isn't in it? My heart seems to be lost. Not sure where it is. I think it's been trampled. It feels like it's in my stomach.

I know I should have something to say, but what I say sounds weak and isn't what you want to hear. I don't know why I am the way I am. I just am. I'm me. I'm sorry I can't explain it. "I'm tired", "I'm stressed", "I'm worn down" are repetitive and annoying and unhelpful and useless.  But they're all true. They're too true. I don't know why. I can't explain it.  I know if I can't explain it no one can.

I have butterflies in my chest and in my arm. This is how anxiety starts. I'm anxious because I can't do everything. I know my "everything" isn't nearly as much as everyone else's "everything", but mine overwhelms me. I'm not lazy. Feeling overwhelmed leads to anxiety and that leads to feeling powerless and that leads to being frozen and unable to do anything. I know it needs doing. It's not that I don't know.

But that's not your concern is it? Your concern is how it affects you. Most people's concern.  My inability to be all leads to being nothing. My being nothing leaves you with nothing. I'm sorry I have nothing for you. I blame myself...cause that's healthy and leads to more anxiety.

But you want yours. Everyone gets a little piece and yours is the smallest. Well, it's the smallest next to what's left for me. I know it's not fair that you're at the bottom of the totem pole. I know where you think you should be. But you're not. I'm sorry you're not. So I'll be anxious about that too. Cause that's healthy.

So you come to me and you want to know what's inside and I can't tell you what's inside because I'm not sure I know myself. I know the surface. I don't know what's the cause. But your being disappointed with what I come up with is less than helpful. Oh to be you. Don't concern yourself with the little things. It's fine to leave wrappers on the bar, or socks on the floor or all the other nit picky things that build up and bug me and make me feel unappreciated. No, not unappreciated, disrespected.

I know everything you do is more important than what I do. Believe me. You pay no attention when I'm talking but expect my immediate, undivided attention when you inhale to speak. And you wonder why I don't speak very much. Why can't we have a conversation? Because you're pretty good at having one without me.

So what does any of this have to do with anything? Everything. Nothing. It's small. It's insignificant. It's so trivial.

It's me.

Wounded to the Core

A knife to the chest. The world spinning the wrong direction.  As if I didn't need happy pills already. I may need to up my dosage. Look me dead in the eye and lie to me.  Dead in the eye. Dead inside. I'll never believe another thing you say. How can I? You want me to believe you over my own eyes.  Don't tell me the sky is green. I CAN SEE IT! With my OWN eyes.

So now what? I can't NOT deal with you. You're in my life.  You ARE my life.  You were my life. Now what?  I want to scream and punch and return the pain. I can't. It would do no good. I'm not that person. So do I go on the way YOU are, since you seem to believe that I believe your lie? I can't show these feelings in front of others.

I blame myself. But it's not my fucking fault. I WILL not blame myself. It would be arrogant to believe that I control another's actions.

Arrogant like believing that someone will take what you say as truth when they can see the opposite with their own eyes.

GIVE ME PERFECTION!

What a world. This morning I'm pondering the need for perfection in the world around us, and I'm not even thinking about topics like body type or parenting abilities.  

Judging another person begins the milli-second our interaction with him begins. We have moved away from being friendly with a person even if his beliefs don't perfectly mirror our own. I feel it around me. Instead of being kind and considerate to anyone and everyone, it has become, "She seems nice, but then I saw the bumper stickers she has on her car" or "I can't believe someone who has kids my age disagrees with me on gun control. What is he thinking?!"

This morning on facebook, I came across this picture on Humans of New York. (By the way, it's a great page. Brandon doesn't just take pictures, he interacts with the subject and usually captions his photos with a question and response exchanged between himself and the subject of the photo. You should definitely check it out.)

The caption on this particular photo is as follows: 

"It was a much easier decision to join the order when I was growing up. Everyone supported the church and supported your decision. It's a much tougher choice to make today." — at Boston, MA.

 I saw this picture and thought, "Wow, what a beautiful shot. The framing, the subject matter, the focus, it's all perfect."   I was, however, saddened by the comments.  Most of them focused on the caption. People began to go back and forth over why a person would or would not "join the order".  

"There is no God." "Why join a church that hides pedophiles?" "The Vatican could solve world hunger with all of the money it has." And so on.

I've struggled with these points in the past and continue to do so. What this stream of comments got me to thinking, though, was that these commenters brought so much of their own baggage and need for perfection to this picture, that they couldn't enjoy the pure beauty of it. They couldn't even see it for all the imperfections covering their eyes. Beyond not being able to appreciate the beauty of the picture, the comments were also belittling this particular man's life choices. They seemed to be saying that if it was a choice that wasn't right for them, it wasn't right for anyone and further, that anyone who would make that choice was sub-human or at the very least, an idiot. I would hazard a guess that these same individuals would also come down hard on anyone else doing the same to them.

These thoughts led me to thoughts about the gun control measure that was defeated earlier this week in the Senate.  The argument that "this measure won't stop all criminals from getting guns", regardless of my beliefs on the subject, seem to me to be another case of needing perfection. An argument for all or nothing. If this one law wouldn't stop all illegal behavior, it's useless. 

I think this need for everything, be it person or idea, to conform perfectly to one's own personality or beliefs is the leading cause of divisiveness in the world. People seem to believe that any type of compromise means they are compromising all of their principles, therefore any small amount of compromise is bad. This, of course, leads to a stalemate. NOTHING can be done. NOTHING is accomplished. NOTHING that could bring people closer together will happen.  People seem to be happy in their division and if the "other" really wanted things better, he would just come over to the "right" side.

So how do we improve on this? It's so easy to tell someone else what they need to do to make the world  better. Clearly it's all them, I've done my part. I have figured out what the perfect world would be and for it to be in place, the rest of you need to come around to my way of thinking. Why should I compromise for the greater good if "they" won't?

Now that that is out of the way, what do we need to do as individuals and as a society to work away from this division? You can't wait for everyone else to do it because they are waiting for you. 

So, what are you going to do?

# 367

When your three year old requests a haircut, take her to get the f'n haircut, like immediately.

What I've Learned from Sparkle #350

Self-adhesive postage stamps may be the most expensive "stickers" ever.

Note to self: Buy stamps that have to be licked until Sparkle gets past the sticker obsession.

When you stop learning, you stop living.

#305

It's never a good sign when you walk into a room and your 2 year old starts yelling, "Do not see!! Do not see!!"

#292...No Need to Thank Me

When your two year old decides during "nap" time (when she doesn't sleep) to trade her pants for tights, make sure she still has on her diaper.

Hmmmm. I think I could come up with a daily tip - The things I've learned the second time around.