Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Starting over...

Jeggings. I got into (what was supposed to be a friendly) debate with my sister over jeggings. An article of clothing I swore I would never buy. I did however. And I like them. So, kiss my ass. I couldn't find a pair of jeans that fit into my boots the way I liked because I was losing weight so rapidly. In fact, my jeggings are now getting baggy. This debate, razzing, joke, literally brought me to tears. My family looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Crying. Over jeggings?? REALLY?!? After my sister left and sent me a text apologizing and trying to make amends, I realized it's not about the jeggings. The jeggings are representative of a bigger issue I hate to think about; let alone speak
I am panic stricken about embarking on the dating world again. And I mean panic. Chest pains, short of breath, excessive sweating, senseless rambling, panic. I just don't know that I have it in me. I don't have the time, patience, or attention to be someone that I'm not. I don't want to worry or give extra thought to what I am wearing or what I'm saying. I am what I am; and that's a hot mess. I'm a spastic, flighty, impulsive, sweaty, mess. I am moody. I can't keep track of shit. I forget constantly. I like to be comfortable. Which means I don't typically look "sexy". I cuss like a sailor and spit like a ball player. I burp, fart, and poop. I put my feet in something that resembles a Chinchilla bath before I put my socks on. I love my yoga pants and sundresses. I love my cowboy boots and would wear them or gym shoes any day of the week. I hate bras, but like something to absorb boob sweat if need be, therefore I opt for tanks with the built in bra when at home. Never fear, I wear a bra in public at all times. And considering this post started by talk of jeggings, I would like to point out that I do not own sweatpants with writing across the ass. My ass does not scream, "JUICY", "SEXY", or "PINK". If you have some of these pants, more power to you. I am not attempting to draw any attention to my ass. I do a fine job of making myself look like a complete ass without any extra attention to the real thing.
Point being, I can't imagine someone sticking around for long if they really knew me. I can't imagine someone wanting to be with another person who requires a handbook and comes with disclaimers. I'm good in small doses. I don't want to do fear and rejection. I just want to be ME. Unfortunately, over the past several years I lost myself. I frequently found myself saying that I didn't know who I was anymore, I didn't like who I was becoming, and I felt like I was going crazy. Not to mean, my life has dramatically changed over the past 5 years. I don't know where to begin. I don't know what to wear. I don't know what to say or not to say. I am still finding me. And, for the most part, I'm OK with that. I'm better off daydreaming a future with someone because the reality of it is beyond my imagination. Those around me make it sound like there are all these "rules" to dating. I can't keep track! This is reminiscent of me trying to learn euchre. Too many rules. You know what rules I'm talking about. When and how often do I call or text, what do I say, where do we go, what do we talk about, what do I wear??
Since when is meeting someone for lunch worthy of a panic attack and embarrassing pit stains? I am the person who breaks all the "rules" apparently. I don't make good eye contact. Mainly due to my ADD and my inability to focus when looking at someone; especially someone I find attractive and who shows an interest in me. But, also because I get so nervous, I turn into a blushing, bashful, stuttering, school girl (it's ridiculous, really). I give way too much information. I tell people I am medicated. My personal favorite, is when I recently told a man (the pit stain provoking lunch man) I was like Rain Man (which by the way, is a phrase I use often). He responded that probably isn't the most flattering way to describe myself. But, it's so true! I am a creature of habit. I thrive on routine. When it gets fucked up, I am beside myself! Most days I adjust and make do, but depending on what it is, it can cripple me. I ramble. I am tangential. I can have six different "side bars" before I ever finish the first thought in a conversation. I "hyper focus", meaning I can get stuck on something and ignore the rest. I reference conversations from days ago because something stuck in my mind and I replay it over and over until I get it out. The list goes on.
I honestly think I sabotage myself because I am afraid of rejection. I have experienced some pretty painful rejection in my time. But, being left to my own devices during a suicide attempt by my (now ex) husband was a kick in the dick. It took the wind right out of my sails. However, I can't keep going back to that. I picked myself up and walked away. I am not that person anymore and I refuse to go back. So, why do I continue to go back to that? Why let him continue to effect my life at all? I have good qualities. Hell, some may even consider them great. People really do like me; idiosyncrasies, oxymorons and all. Some people appreciate the fact that they don't have to question where they stand with me. Other people, not so much. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I shoot straight from the hip. I try to be conscious of others feelings, however I develop a stutter when I am struggling to say something difficult. I am compassionate. I am passionate. I am empathetic. I am more humble than I've ever been. I love helping people. It pains me to see any being suffer. I want to bring them peace or at least show them another way. Not that my way is always right. I can admit when I am wrong (another good quality I think). I relate to people and I just want them to know they are not alone. I may not know exactly what they are going through, but I don't want anyone to ever feel alone. I am here. I have a good sense of humor. I make people laugh. However, my sarcastic, dark-sided humor has known to offend or make me seem careless and crass; which isn't the case at all. I care so much and deal with some terrible situations. Humor is my coping skill. If I didn't laugh, I would cry. Contrary to popular belief, I am sensitive. I get my feelings hurt easily. I am headstrong (sounds much better than hardheaded). This characteristic can go into both the pro and con columns. I may bitch, moan, groan, scream, or cry; but once I've had my "moment", I will typically move on. I am a survivor. I am strong. I am a fighter (not physically). In fact, I hate physical violence and am ashamed I have resorted to it in the past. I am slowly accepting who I am. However, gaining confidence in that person is very difficult. I have been beat down and am in the process of being remade. I am a work in progress; that's for damn sure. I have come a long way and have a long way to go. But, I am proud of where I am at. I really am. This may not be my ideal situation, but I am feeling better than I ever have. I have a lot to contend with, but I also have a lot to offer. If only, I would focus on the good qualities instead of listing all the negatives straight out of the gate. If only I believed in myself as much as others and quit being so damn hard on myself. If only, I would stop saying "if only" and move my ass! I need to accept that fact that this is the way that God made me and realize He loves me, flaws and all. And maybe, some day, He will bring me someone else who loves me for me. Someone who may not like all my idiosyncrasies, but at least tolerates them because my light shines bright. I just have to continue to trust where I am at. Be patient with God, myself, and others. Focus on me and becoming even better. Most of all, I have to continue to have FAITH...

I really don't know anymore...

While going through the hundreds of emails that I cast aside for a later date, I came across a couple of  "thoughts" I emailed myself on December 14, 2011. I emailed them to myself with every intention of finishing them and turning them into posts. However, much like most of my thoughts, they hit me like a ton of bricks then fall into the recesses of my mind. I thought I would share them anyway. If anything, you might get an iota of an idea of how this fractured mind works; as I emailed these all at the same time, prior to 7am. Meaning, I had them one right after the other. Thoughts flowing into one another so quickly, I didn't even have time to finish the previous before another one came to me, and so on...

When you have someone who's been such an integral part of your life, adjusting without them is difficult. Unfortunately, it seems I've "started over" so many times, I'm getting used to it. Difference being, this time my life is significantly different. As unstable as my marriage was, I continued to have hope that we could make it. No matter how minuscule, there was hope; along with lots of ups and downs, false promises with good intentions, but something always in the way.


I hope one day, they too can be humbled as I have been. When you're living one day at a time and sometimes less than that, one day is a good day. One day that I get up is a good day. One day that I don't cry is a good day. One day that I laugh is a good day. One day that I don't want to die is a great day. It's easy to fall into the vicious  cycle of insanity and old behavior. It's harder than hell to get back out. When you live one day at a time or, an hour at a time, its hard to focus on anything else. I did good today and that should count.


Lonely. Regret. Fear. Confusion. Lost. Overwhelmed. Exhausted. That's the list of feelings that come to mind currently and I've probably only identified an eighth of them. My eyes feel swollen from the crying. I can't imagine how they'd feel if I actually gave in to the temptation to cry every time I felt it. If I cried as much I wanted to, I would probably look like someone having an allergic reaction; eyes swollen shut, red, and blotchy face. I look in the mirror with no make up on. Dark circles, permanent creases in my forehead from a frequent furrowed brow. My big, brown eyes. I have gotten countless compliments over the years. I have been stopped in public in order for an admirer to compliment. However, as I look at them now; they look so sad. So lost. I look into the marvel of my big brown eyes and I wonder, have they always looked this way? All the years of insanity; repeating the same behavior. Why am I just now noticing? Then I impulsively check my teeth to make sure there isn't any leftovers. While I do so, I instinctively notice the small chips in my front teeth from constantly having them clenched. Always on edge. Always on guard. I am looking forward to the day in which I can actually live. I'm so tired of being in "survival mode". Putting out one fire after another at an exhausting pace, always realizing the small individual fires could take over and set the whole damn forest ablaze. I put out one fire and turn around to see the flames of another quickly approaching.
I have always been pretty good at "pulling myself up by my bootstraps". I have done it countless times. I grieve in my own way and then distract myself with someone/something else.