Break it Down

I feel completely off balance. Wondering who exactly I am and what it all means. I suspect that since I loathe the status quo and doing things just because it's expected of me I waited to have my existential crisis when I was 31 instead of 30.

I feel like I've never really had a firm grasp on who I am, especially when I look at it in contrast with who I perceive people think I should be.
I feel like I've not really pushed to find out either. Because I suspected (and have been told) that the core of me was just bad and who wants to face that about themselves.

One of the hardest things for me to accept and process about therapy and the fact that I'm sharing the process with people both here and in actual real life conversations is the responses. The person I see in the mirror and the person they say they see when they see me is so different. The perceptions are so far apart.

And I'm just so tired.
So tired of fighting and tired of digging and tired of trying to convince myself I'm not bad and that I am in fact a lovable and cherished person.
I'm tired of knowing I have to focus on getting healthy and feeling crushed by guilt that I'm thinking too much about myself and turning inward instead of outward.
I'm tired of trying to find the balance and make the right and healthy choices and wading through the millions of choices that could be both or neither on any given day.

I want to be able to wrap this up nicely for you, because that's what I think good girls should do.
But I don't know how.
It scares me a lot.
Yet, I also think the cracks and chips in my "everything's ok, nothing to see here" facade are helping a little. Like a lanced wound they're letting the pressure release slowly and surely.
I'm terrified I'm letting to much ugly hang out and you'll all realize just what a bad girl I am and I'm also surprised when you don't recoil from my crazy.

All that to say, I'm taking a break.  From blogging and probably lightening the social media posts (but not stopping those all together).
I'll be back in June, but I'm taking the rest of May off. There is a lot going on and I'm trying to decide if a decision I'm wanting to make is a result of a healthy shift in priorities or a result of withdraw and the desire to flee relationships. I need to quiet some voices in my head and focus on the still small voice that has been lost in the banshee yell of the abusive words of my past.

I'm going to try to find what girl God has made me to be and remember that He doesn't make mistakes and that I'm not the bad girl I've been convinced I am.

If she forgets what she is capable of, I'll remind her. When she looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize who she sees, I'll describe her in detail until she remembers, and when she doubts she can be the person she wants to be, I won't.
via (in)courage

Good Things: April

April 1 Shopping most of the day with mom and the girls, bought a super cute new purse (yes, another one)

April 2 More shopping, shopping shopping. I'll be ok if I never shop again for the near future

April 3 Great morning at church followed by an afternoon of solitude while reading and napping on the couch with the windows open. AMAZING after several days of constant running and being around lots of people

April 4 Fun dinner with friends that are staying with me for awhile. Lots of hilarious conversation and surprisingly serious stuff too.

April 5 Washington Project meeting then a yummy dinner and good conversation with Claire

April 6 Nice night playing video games with a friend

April 7 First night dog sitting, at least this time there was no dead bird or urine in my purse

April 8 Geek Games and giggles

April 9 Spontaneous shopping day (4th in a row) with some geek game girls

April 10 Planted some annuals and made garden decisions all on my own

April 11 Finished a good book and started watching the 1st season of Friends on dvd and chortled a lot

April 12 Yummy dinner and made it through a contractor estimate walk through of my house without crying or breaking into hives.

April 13 Fun dinner with Justin, Bobbie and rommie followed by an early night at the dogsitting house

April 14 Family fun night at Sharen's for the first time in a long time (thanks to dogsitting). Playing outside and amazing backyard olympics on the SLIDE (slide slide slide) OF (of of of) DESTINY (destiny destiny destiny)

April 15 Straight home from work and no other plans for the first time in MONTH. Amazeballs

April 16 Kirsten Ariel Matala's special day. Pottery! Vegetarian food! 16 year old driving!

April 17 Ikea cabinet shopping, and I didn't even cry!

April 18 30 Rock on the couch while I folded a gajillion sheets (ok, 8 sets) because I haven't done laundry in so long

April 19 Snuggle time with Matthew when he whispered, "I just love you, ok"

April 20 I had a hard night at therapy, but dinner was ready and Pete cleaned up and everything while I sulked on the sofa

April 21 Hour long 30 Rock!

April 22 1/2 day at work

April 23 Yummy yummy Easter dinner at Sharen's house followed by clean sheet night

April 24 Wore a bright green dress and heels to church, didn't fall over once

April 25 Stuffed peppers for dinner. Oh.yes.

April 26 Happy Birthday, Pete!

April 27 Good conversation with a friend, realizing that we're all just as messed up as each other.

April 28 Early night, which I so needed

April 29 Woke up just in time to see Kate arrive at the Abbey (Abby?) My secret intrigue with the Royal Wedding has been revealed.

April 30 Waking up to no alarm in my own bed is amazeballs

Five Minutes: Dresses

Ok, the rule is to type for five minutes and post whatever vomits out of my fingertips. May God be with you all.
I've been on a dress buying kick lately. Specifically maxi dresses. The jersey material that is usually long and flowy with an empire waist.
I even bought heels to go with the dresses (ok, so they're like stacked heely things...there's a specific work but I don't know it...I want to say ramp, but I know that's not right)

Then when I wear them I feel all pretty and girly and frilly. People compliment me and tell me I look cute...or they balk at the shock of seeing my legs.

I also have been on a clothes buying spree. Soft fabrics and layers of color, different necklines and even some fancy pants jewelry.

I've been wearing makeup (ok, foundation and mascara at least) every day and touching up with powder throughout the day.

But the truth is, I still feel mostly like a fraud.
People tell me I look pretty and I'm fairly certain they're just telling me that because they don't know what else to say.
I see myself in the mirror or my reflection in a mirror and I pause wondering what they saw that was even remotely beautiful.

It's terrible.
But I also am recognizing the patterns and trying to push through them. Believing people despite my every instinct screaming that they are just being nice or that they are buttering me up for something they need or want.

Either way, I'm looking distinctly more feminine than I have in a long time.

And scene.

Conflict

Conflict and I are not getting along lately.
I'm trying to retire from being the peacekeeper and involving myself in conflict that isn't mine to be involved in but it's really hard. It's really hard.

It makes me scared to be around conflict that I can't help resolve in some way, but I know it will also make me anxious and super stressed to insert myself into conflict I shouldn't be in.

It's a catch 22 really.

Mostly I'm just trying to find a balance so I can still have human interaction without always being a grumpy wench about things.

It's hard, and I'm really tired a lot with all the hard stuff that's happening.

Crooked

The mysteries you live with, as a child. Never solved, never resolved. Utterly trivial, petty. Like a tiny pebble in your shoe, that causes you to walk crookedly.
- 'Little Bird of Heaven' Joyce Carol Oates

Chosen

Therapy was really hard last week.
I had been agitated since my previous session because of things being stirred up and talked about that I had learned to not speak about for decades and there were also technical issues that ate up the first 15 minutes of my session (although the therapist did stay 15 minutes over because she said it was the office staff's issue and she wasn't going to take my time away from me because of their communication issues)

I talked a bit about the first few times I allowed myself to share with people things that were said and things that happened around me as a kid. The first time I shared them seriously and not in a joking around sarcastic kind of way.
I talked about how the people were angry that I never told them. How the conversation turned into me reassuring them that it was ok and it was fine and no big deal. How the conversation turned into how we could protect this other person from finding out because they were to fragile to bear the brunt of this information.

As I talked about it I became very upset and essentially whimpered, "I just wish I was chosen"
Because I understand through my adult eyes what these grown ups meant when they got mad that I didn't tell them. I see their baggage and brokenness and can sympathize with their thought process. But even though I was mostly an adult when these conversations happened I was still seeing things through the lens of this abuse and the kid brain I experienced it through, so I just felt....un-chosen.

Back in September when I returned to that town and broke again from the weight of the words layered on my kid heart I also felt un-chosen. I had a handful of interactions in the same period of time where things, events and other people (however appropriate or inappropriate) were ranked higher than I and I wondered if I would ever be the one chosen.

Because I just want to be chosen. I want to feel prioritized and cared for and that I might come in at least 2nd or 3rd for somethings.
I want to not feel like that's a ridiculously petulant thing to want.

Even before I could finish this thought process and even louder as I drove home I heard a whisper that I was chosen.
That I was chosen before I was even born, before my parents, their parents and their parents were born. Before the very sands of time.
I was chosen as the daughter of a King that sent his Son to die on a Cross for me. That even if it was just me He would have Saved He would have done it.

Because I'm a damaged and broken person sometimes that doesn't feel like enough. Sometimes I forget that it's true even if it doesn't feel like enough.

Cries in the desert, my child I hear them
Tears in the valley, my lovely I count them
You're so precious, you were on my mind as I died

Here I am so close to you
Know my voice, I'll never leave you
For I have loved you since before
The sands of time were made

I love you still and always will
You're chosen as mine
-Hillsong "Chosen as Mine"

Back Room

I hated going there.
Nothing ever really happened, in the really happened sense.

It just felt wrong.

A bird nose and magnifying glasses
Hands that lingered a little higher and longer than needed when helping me stamp in time.
Hugs that made me establish no touching days with people that gave appropriate length hugs with hands clasping and clutching my upper back instead of my upper ass

Pulling my hair back and moving a thumb down the back of my neck slowly
Resting an arm around a waist while discussing practice charts
Whispering, "You're so special" in a tone that made me wish and hope to be never be anything special at all

A little window and a waiting chair just outside the door may have kept the hands technically within bounds but they were out of bounds all the same.

You were trusted enough for a change of venue to your home
With no small window, no waiting chair

Jumpy and scared I hid behind insolence and refusal to sit anywhere near you until she returned
It was the last time
I got in trouble for being so rude
But it was worth every harsh word to never return to your side again