Can of Worms

Okay, so apparently all I needed to light a fire under my ass was to just start telling a story. So, Asshole Boyfriend. Yeah.

He called, I was excited, yada yada yada. He said all the right things and asked me out. I. cannot. remember. our. first. date. I remember the before. I remember being extremely nervous and trying to watch for him out of my seventh story window. He arrived, and we went...somewhere. No clue. Cannot pull it up for the life of me. Cannot remember our first kiss. Although I know we kissed that night. It is gone.

I do remember him telling me that he was going home that weekend for his birthday. Now that I type that I can't remember specifically what day his birthday is!! Geez, my memory is TERRIBLE!!! That weekend was Labor Day weekend, and I went home a bit but back to school shortly after learning that my curfew was still in effect.

That Monday, I was thrilled when he called again and wanted to take me out to eat. I remember this specifically because I had eaten a bowl of ravioli, and yet I let him take me to Appleby's where I ate chicken fingers. I am disgusted with myself even now. One of his friends tagged along that night, it was casual. I remember when AB dropped me off that night him getting on to me about liking his friend more than I liked him. I did not like the way that made me feel. I ignored it and assured him that of course I liked him more. It was all downhill from there.

I'm pretty sure that it was only three weeks later that we were engaged. He stood in the parking lot of his fraternity house and told me that 'when you find the person you want to spend forever with, you want forever to start right now.' I was wrapped up completely. And let me stop here and interject: I knew all along that this was against my grain. But I was eighteen. I really felt that when I loved someone, that would be the only person in my life that I would love and it would all be a neat little fairy tale. I remember the first time I told him that I loved him. I had to force myself to say it. I wanted it to be true, but deep down I knew it wasn't. But I digress, so the engagement, got a ring, freaked the hell out of everyone, not the least of which were my parents, I'm sure.

I wanted to wait until we were married to have sex. I told him that and he agreed. But somehow, he kept pressuring me to do it. Finally, around week 5 of our relationship, I sprained my ankle. Bad. He took care of me, took me to the clinic, did everything I needed. I was weak. He was caring. I gave in. I haven't reflected on this, maybe ever, but I HAD A SPRAINED ANKLE THE FIRST TIME I HAD SEX. It was awful. And, although I wouldn't have admitted it then, I felt damaged. I was the living embodiment of making my bed and having to lie in it.

And, with that, I have to take a break. More to come.

Okay, I Get It...I Suck.

Scratch that plan for July. My self-imposed writing challenge was the surest way to block anything close to inspirational. Whatev.

Why is it, though, that I have such a hard time doing the things that I like to do? Like writing, or walking, or having a clean house? I can rationalize not doing them all day long so well, you would think I was trying to avoid the plague!! Blah!

Today I am feeling really unbalanced. I need to center myself. I think I am getting more comfortable with taking a spiritual journey (seeking things outside of Christianity...not to replace, just to supplement) and trying to just breathe and focus.

I have an overriding thought the last couple of days. Not a totally foreign one, but it is making me think. I wonder if I am being present enough for my kids. Is there a way for me to not work (or not work so much) and be able to provide for them? I feel like I am not able to give them enough consistent quality time...I'm sure a concern of all working mothers...and I am so stressed to the max, that I can't really be present when I am with them. I worry about my daughter. I think she needs me more, and needs more structure. Less TV. How can I accomplish this? How could I be able to pick her up in the afternoons and help her with her homework rather than squeezing it in after I get home at 6:00 in the evenings?
How could I afford to pay my bills? Other people get by with a lot less salary than we have--why can't I?

(I know the answer to that last question is 'because I don't want to,' but I don't want to accept that fact right now).

To be continued...

I Don't Believe in Beatles, I Just Believe in Me

I can't believe that I have mostly avoided religion up until this point!! Of all the sources of internal conflict!! Hold on to your hats...

I have been raised with the requisite amount of Catholic Guilt. The funny part of this is, when I was a child, a teenager, I had no problem blindingly accepting the nice little package of The Church all bundled up and tied with a bow. No--scratch that. The funny part is that at the time, I TRULY did not think that I was naive. Cut to Toby Keith singing I wish I didn't know now, what I didn't know then....but I digress.

At some point I woke up and started questioning my faith. And I still am. And here is what I've figured out for myself*
-Faith is different than religion.
-I have a major problem with organized religion. (This is a whole other post. Or series of posts)
-I still feel the need to attend church on a weekly basis. (Really. I feel bad if I don't.)
-I did not know about transubstantiation until after college (that's what growing up in rural, protestant MS will get you). I can't get on board with the Catholic thinking on that one. However, I can't seem to make the switch to Episcopal Church (even though that is one of the major diffs between the two, and the Episcopals seem to be a little friendlier to the social causes that I support).
-I just ordered a book on Buddhism yesterday. Buddhism is not really a religion, but in my opinion (and from the limited reading that I have done), it seems to be a really good way to implement many of the things that religion implies that people should do.
-I wish I could just take the plunge and be Buddhist.
-However, I don't believe in reincarnation, and I do believe in God.
-Maybe I should just join up with the Jews for Jesus. After all, Jesus did not teach people to be good Christians. He wanted people to be good Jews.
-Let me preface this by saying that I think Jesus was a really good guy. A moral example for all of us. Having said that, I think people put way too much emphasis on Jesus, and kind of make God second fiddle. Let's remember our priorities.
-I believe in evolution and have already begun telling my kids about it (in the words of They Might Be Giants, "Science Is Real.") (hey, they sure won't be getting that version in Catholic school)
-Yes, my kids go to Catholic School.
-I do believe in God because I want to. I really want to believe that there is more out there and that there is some devine force that exists.
-Its more the man-made product of religion that I find questionable.
-My heaven consists of me getting to meet my Grandmother and learning the truth behind the JFK assassination.
-Life's a journey, Not a destination. Thank you Aerosmith.

*this list is subject change with or without notice at any moment

Untitled

I have a problem adjusting to change. After my first child was born, I went through some post-partum depression, that was nasty and unexpected. Again, as is a theme with me, I did not seek help and I SHOULD HAVE. I wasted so much time feeling rotten and something could have been done about it! Prideful and stupid!!



I was tired, sluggish, confused, sad, angry...and it festered. I definately was not able to connect with my baby like I thought I should be...and I was ashamed!! I always thought motherhood would come easy to me...not that I assumed it would be easy, but I thought I would be a natural (afterall, I had a good example in my mom). I think that the lesson I had to learn - and that I am still learning - is that I am not my mom. And that is okay.



I never hurt my baby, but I did have really ODD thoughts during this time. I was irrationally terrified to hold her on a sidewalk or the driveway, cause I had overwhelming thoughts of dropping her. Also, I remember at night when she would wake I would be so exhausted that I would think "I can just put her outside of the window and then it will be quiet and I can sleep." And I was lucid enought to KNOW how crazy that was...but it was still a thought that I had!

Anyway, that was the first round of real depression that I have dealt with. Well, not counting my freshman year of college. But that is another story for another time. At any rate, I still feel reverberations from the PPD. In some ways, it is a funk that never entirely went away. I read an article about rumination this week and that fits me to a 'T.' I over-analyze myself until there is nothing there.