Sometimes you just get so sick of being shit on. Then you get pissed.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
No, I'm fine ... really. It's allergies.
I am a very sensitive, emotional person. Over the years, I've learned to put up a facade in order to appear otherwise, and in some instances, I have a thicker skin than I used to. But really, I am a soft ball of emotional mush.
Most of the time, it's an awful affliction to have -- the propensity to cry.
I cry at movies. My family drives me INSANE by looking at me to see if I'm crying at sad moments on the screen. I actually get pissed and end up stomping off. Can't a woman cry in peace?
I cry at stories I hear or read about.
I cry if I attend a funeral to support a friend, even if the deceased is a person I've never met.
I cry when I think about the fact that my youngest child is nearly 8 years old, or the fact that my oldest is nearly a bona fide teenager and high school student.
It's mortifying to be crying at a movie when the person you're with is dry-eyed, or when you leave a live production or dance performance with red, puffy eyes. No one else looks like that!
And when it came time for our youngest to graduate from the preschool our three children attended for 10 straight years, well … I was a mess. A total weeping mess. Was anyone else surrounded by wadded up tissues? Noooo.
I've tried all manner of ways to NOT cry in the above situations. I physically steel myself. I will my eyes to remain dry. I clench my jaw and stare hard into space. I immediately try to change the direction of my thoughts. I even ridicule myself for being such a wuss.
Sometimes it works; mostly, it doesn’t.
The most I can hope for is that if people notice, they have mercy on me and look the other way or pretend not to notice.
Anyone else out there a chronic crier? I wish so much that I could control my emotions better. I often wonder what's wrong with me? I wish that I was one of those women who remain steely eyed even in moments of emotional turmoil. I am a strong, in-control person with a firm grip on my crazy life. Except for these maddeningly weak moments.
When your 12-year-old daughter has a better handle on her emotions than you do, you know you've got issues.
Pass the tissues.
Most of the time, it's an awful affliction to have -- the propensity to cry.
I cry at movies. My family drives me INSANE by looking at me to see if I'm crying at sad moments on the screen. I actually get pissed and end up stomping off. Can't a woman cry in peace?
I cry at stories I hear or read about.
I cry if I attend a funeral to support a friend, even if the deceased is a person I've never met.
I cry when I think about the fact that my youngest child is nearly 8 years old, or the fact that my oldest is nearly a bona fide teenager and high school student.
It's mortifying to be crying at a movie when the person you're with is dry-eyed, or when you leave a live production or dance performance with red, puffy eyes. No one else looks like that!
And when it came time for our youngest to graduate from the preschool our three children attended for 10 straight years, well … I was a mess. A total weeping mess. Was anyone else surrounded by wadded up tissues? Noooo.
I've tried all manner of ways to NOT cry in the above situations. I physically steel myself. I will my eyes to remain dry. I clench my jaw and stare hard into space. I immediately try to change the direction of my thoughts. I even ridicule myself for being such a wuss.
Sometimes it works; mostly, it doesn’t.
The most I can hope for is that if people notice, they have mercy on me and look the other way or pretend not to notice.
Anyone else out there a chronic crier? I wish so much that I could control my emotions better. I often wonder what's wrong with me? I wish that I was one of those women who remain steely eyed even in moments of emotional turmoil. I am a strong, in-control person with a firm grip on my crazy life. Except for these maddeningly weak moments.
When your 12-year-old daughter has a better handle on her emotions than you do, you know you've got issues.
Pass the tissues.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Mired in mental muck
Seriously considering happy pills.
The older I get, the more I start really examining things in my life.
Like the fact that, at my age, I still don't know exactly who I am. That's pathetic, isn't it? Yeah. It is. Most people I know are confident and sure of themselves and the path they're on. Not me. I second-guess myself a lot. I'm always trying to fit some mold I create for myself instead of just being ME.
Like the fact that this is it. One shot. I could die tomorrow, or something horrific could happen and life could be forever altered. And what about the life I lived? Was it full? Was it what I wanted it to be? Why don't I do more of the small things I want to do? Even something so simple as going to a coffee shop or book shop and relaxing? Or taking a walk even when the rest of my family doesn't want to? Or going to dinner or for drinks with a friend like we've been trying to do for ages?
Like the fact that, while my children are getting older, as children are wont to do, I still have a hard time realizing just how old they are now. And when I sit and think about it, it scares me. My children are my life (every 'expert' tells you that's a bad thing, but it's true), and they are slowing slipping away, toward adolescence and ever-increasing independence. I try to enjoy my time with them as much as I can, but sometimes I feel like life's stresses get in the way. I hate that, but I am consciously trying to change it all the time.
Like why can't I be one of those happy, carefree, positive people? You can't just flip a switch. Believe me, I've tried to talk myself into it. It's much more difficult than it sounds.
The older I get, the more I start really examining things in my life.
Like the fact that, at my age, I still don't know exactly who I am. That's pathetic, isn't it? Yeah. It is. Most people I know are confident and sure of themselves and the path they're on. Not me. I second-guess myself a lot. I'm always trying to fit some mold I create for myself instead of just being ME.
Like the fact that this is it. One shot. I could die tomorrow, or something horrific could happen and life could be forever altered. And what about the life I lived? Was it full? Was it what I wanted it to be? Why don't I do more of the small things I want to do? Even something so simple as going to a coffee shop or book shop and relaxing? Or taking a walk even when the rest of my family doesn't want to? Or going to dinner or for drinks with a friend like we've been trying to do for ages?
Like the fact that, while my children are getting older, as children are wont to do, I still have a hard time realizing just how old they are now. And when I sit and think about it, it scares me. My children are my life (every 'expert' tells you that's a bad thing, but it's true), and they are slowing slipping away, toward adolescence and ever-increasing independence. I try to enjoy my time with them as much as I can, but sometimes I feel like life's stresses get in the way. I hate that, but I am consciously trying to change it all the time.
Like why can't I be one of those happy, carefree, positive people? You can't just flip a switch. Believe me, I've tried to talk myself into it. It's much more difficult than it sounds.
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