Only-Child Syndrome

Honestly ... Nothing is wrong

It’s been almost two years since I’ve felt this helpless, hopeless, and absolutely unhappy. There is NOTHING wrong. Let me repeat that for anyone not listening; NOTHING WRONG!!! Well almost nothing, telling someone over and over and over that nothing is wrong you are just “sad” and they continue to try and find the fix, well that can just piss you off.

I am so annoyed with those I love the most, and that is the most frustrating part. Certain voices feel like nails on a chalkboard, and nothing ANYONE can do can solve it. That’s the maddening part for all the “fixers” in my life.

What is really hard is that it has been two years since I felt like I was being sucked in a black hole. My mother’s upside was that it’s been two years!! I mean that’s so much better than I when I was younger, but I feel like FUCK it’s been two years, and again here we are.

The person I feel the most for is Smitten. I am pretty sure more than once I have told him to R U N while he can. I feel bad that he wants to fix it, make it better and it kills me that all I do is snap at him. I’ve sorrta explained where I am, but I know it does nothing for him. He understands, but doesn’t.

I talked to my mother today who probably felt the same frustration that Smitten feels right now years ago when this whole adventure. She said she remembers how irritable I was, and how all she wanted to do was ANYTHING to make me happy; even for a minute.

It will take a little while to get this under control but until then I am working really hard on not imploding me, or my relationship.

One day at a time, or some random cliché like that …

Putting it all out there .....

We all write for different reasons. Each of us that put out a blog with no boundaries or limitations on who can read it, and in a lot of cases who can comment do so because we feel we have something to say. Some of us feel we have something to share, others because they want someone to make them feel good about their lives. I will be honest in the fact that some of my favorite blogs are those that at times make me feel better about my own life. What is it they say about watching a train wreck?

Some bloggers are able to be brutally honest about their lives no matter what might be going on. Dooce happens to be a perfect example of a no bars hold kind of blog and some of us chose to only talk about topics where we feel we might be an expert. Then others like me stick to general life as we see it.

That’s the thing about my blog; when I tell a Smitten, Lust, or MoodyBitch story you only get my side. You get what I thought, what I felt and you either have to believe that is exactly how it happened, or you have to believe that I’m a fucking nut. I can accept both. The truth is that there are times I go back and read posts that I wrote raw in emotion and can see how I swayed it in my favor although not intentional. I think I do a good job of calling myself out, but I can see how one of the people I might write about could totally disagree. The fact is however it’s my blog and my truth is the only truth as far as these pages are concerned.

I think bloggers forget that. I think they get so wrapped up in their blog, the story they are trying to tell, they forget that they paint the picture of what every reader sees. If someone thinks I’m crazy, I’ve probably given them something in which to draw that conclusion. Does it mean I am? No. Does it mean that their opinion isn’t valid? No. The truth is, if they think it then I didn’t do a good job of painting the picture I intended, unless crazy is exactly what I was going for.

As far as being defensive and pulling the you don’t know me comment in a response to something less than positive; well you are 100% correct. A lot of times you don’t know the person whose blog you choose to read so pointing that out doesn’t really make a huge impact on any point trying to be proven. Actually it’s pretty obvious that we don’t know each other, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what you write and how you see yourself. The same can be said in your personal knowledge of me as well.

The fact is we all blog for a reason, but the end result it is because we want someone else to read it; even when we claim over and over again it’s really only for ourselves.

Looking within ...

It’s funny how easy it is to feel resentment when we feel we have lost something that meant so much to us, even if it never actually belonged to us at all.

How in your mind you can paint the pictures in perfect color and remember each emotion you felt, but if you look closely and are really honest with yourself then it becomes clear there was nothing there to lose. Not because those days didn’t happen, but because no one can take those memories and emotions from us.

People don’t fade in our minds, if anything it’s the only place they can live perfect forever. Yes, times may change, lives may grow but the foundation of what made it all so beautiful and special is still there; even when a true loss is encountered.

It’s much of how I remember life before my grandmother passed, or how I remember high school before I was a delinquent. It’s been proved in my life by being blessed by family with no blood relations, and it’s celebrated in friendships that span the years. It has also told the stories of unintentional bonds.

I have to remind myself of this when I get angry for all the people, and things I don’t have in my life any longer. When the anger gets to be too much and it’s easier to blame someone else instead of looking within. I have also worked on reminding myself that I am more whole because of the relationships I have had; not less complete because they aren’t what they once were.

Deep Breathing (not just for asphyxiation)

The past week has allowed little time for anything more than purging my life into as little as possible to then moving it to a much bigger space and realizing that this is what it really feels like to start from scratch. I am trying in all ways to stay on the positive thought path, but there is something about staring at completely empty rooms that makes you wonder if this was really the best decision.

Speaking of best decisions; I have questioned lately who all I let know about this blog. What started as a way to speak my mind about myself and my own insecurities has become something that I avoid at all cost when I really have something to say. Mostly because I’m not always sure how it might be interrupted by those who read it. You’ll notice in sometime I haven’t mentioned Smitten and where we are with our relationship, nor have I spoke about my own personal changes of scenery to promote a healthier me. In really taking a look at that it has been clear that my apprehension of such things have stifled exactly what this blog was supposed to mean to me. An exercise in deep breathing if nothing else, so I’ve made a pact with myself to just write when the urge hits no matter who might read it one way or the other. I suspect that the surprise in my feelings won’t be that they are what they are but instead of the fact that I put them in print.

This week’s exercise in life is turning 30; an age that I have no problems with as a number but which has fueled a lot of tears over the past few days. I know that every year I reflect back to where I was a year ago, and although progress has been made I don’t feel like I have the life of someone who is 30. Of course that is easily questioned by EVERYONE.

“What does a 30 yr old life look like?”

My honest answer is, not like mine. I don’t know if it is that I don’t give myself enough credit, or that I may never be satisfied with life in my very over achiever way. So, the only solution I have is to stress as little as possible. Something not accomplished easily mind you, I can only try and not engage in the negative thoughts quite so often.  Although, in my "the sky is always falling" mind the negative thoughts are not always the enemy. Sometimes they are the motivation for the happy thoughts that follow the accomplishment.

So, I try to not worry too much that people see me as someone with no people in her life, or someone with no options in entertainment. Much of what I’m doing right now takes as much effort as it does to get all dolled up and smile in an effort to pretend that you like everyone in the room. I just don’t have the energy for that much deep breathing at any one time.

The sky is indeed falling ...

Disclaimer: This is one of those rambles that doesn’t mean much from the outside, but between the lines it speaks volumes or my creativity just seems that much better when ambien induced.

Less than a month away and the sky is falling, and I’m trying to figure out how to keep my head above water. That and every other bad life takes a turn for the worse, bump in the road cliché you can think of. I’d like to thank identity theft, Bell County, and lawyers with fees for more than the actual cost of the incident.

I’m not getting into details at the moment, but I’ve spent most of the evening in tears save for a few laughs, and unwarranted victory dances. Now I’m stuck in my head and no matter how much my body knows I need sleep my head just won’t seem to allow it.

The silver lining; I might know my language of love which sounds extremely self help-ish and maybe a little gay but eye opening on so many levels. It is however some break through in regards to communication and what is important to me, and will hopefully prove helpful in the future.

 

 

 

sox

Still make me the happiest!

Communication is whose key?

One of the biggest parts of being an only child is that you aren’t around other children all that often. I come from a pretty large family, but except for holidays I don’t remember being around them often when I was younger. This means that I spent A LOT of time being around adults, and from what I’m told communicated as a small adult as soon as I could string sentences. I have heard the same exact comments made by friends who are only children or their families as well. I also remember playing a lot by myself, and talking to the mirror in whatever fun filled adventure my imagination conjured up.

Every job that I have ever had deals with being able to communicate. I’ve worked the drive thru at Taco Bell, waiting tables, and lord knows that being a technical phone monkey was all about communication.

“Yes, right click on the BIG BLUE E”

Even today my job is all about communication, and I deal with difficult people every day. Working in my business there are a lot of old timers who remember how business was done before I could walk. I have worked hard to be able to relay in a professional way that it’s not twenty years before, and business does not work the same way.

So, how did I get here? I am easily someone with a natural gift of gab, and a pretty open mind, and not afraid to open my mouth. How did I end up not being able to communicate in some of the most basic of ways? I have a hard time in saying how I feel deep down inside. It’s easy for me to give someone my opinion, or give advice to others. The really hard part is having my insecurities come out of my mouth. I am a walking billboard for my faults, at least the ones that are very visible. The ones that I know that it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to pick up on. I have no problem giving up that information, but don’t ask me how I feel deep down. I have such a hard time truly opening up, being vulnerable, and making myself a target. As long as I continue to hold those walls I am not really sure how I’ll move forward.

They say that alcohol is truth serum, and there is no difference in my case. Get me drunk and I’ll spill my guts, but only because the next day I won’t know I did it. Sad, pathetic? Of course. Unhealthy? Oh hell yeah. The way I work, for now at least...

Yes.

Wanderlust: "No way, that material is always fresh and RELEVANT"

Wanderlust might be the closest thing I have to a best friend these days. I am still not sure that at 29 you have “best” friends, by that time people in your life are cemented like family. My cemented like family people all live in another city, and so that leads me back to Wanderlust, who prefers to be called Wonderlust anytime he might be written about online, but until he gets his own blog; not happening.

I can’t even describe how we got to the place we are now, because in all of the world he’s the last person I thought that I would say and share the things I do, and I am pretty sure he’d tell you the same. We met as a seedy (yes THAT kind of seedy) tryst. Now over a year later we tell each other things we’d never admit to anyone else. It’s THAT kind of friendship.

I can go back to many changes in myself in over the past year and either directly or indirectly, knowledge or no knowledge because of him; my life has been changed. Or might I say, I’ve made changes. Some of these changes have even prompted this blog, because the title itself came straight from him telling just how spoiled I am. I have very calmly told him  more than once that the only child material was a bit stale, he then took the time to remind me that it will always be relevant. I then stomped my feet and he laughed at me, because he takes some small joy in watching me stomp my feet. His favorite line however might be when he does something specifically annoying, or frustrating in my eyes. I play it all cool by shooting him a glance and let him know that at that minute, I don’t even like him. Yes, another thing that makes him roll with laughter. If nothing else the two of us share endless amounts of laughter.

So, how does he fit into my only-child issues? I don’t really want to share him. Well, not with just anyone that is. This of course is not something that I have any control over but as he moves past a hard time in his life, and I continue to move forward with mine; it will happen. Someone will come along and then the time we spend will be limited. Of course this doesn’t hurt in a way you might think. I want him to be happy in his life, some days I am sure I want his happiness more than I want my own, something that might sound rare, or strange coming from someone who always puts herself first when it matter. At the same time it irks me that for either of those things to happen WE will have to change how we are with one another.

The relationship we have now is not seedy, it is built around comfort. The fact that either of us feel comfortable  enough to let our guard down around each other speaks volumes to the kind of people we are. That there is a common ground that allows us to drink two bottles of wine, speak and say our deepest fears and thoughts, only to pass out and forget the conversation as a whole the next morning.  

This alone is such a time saver, as well as cost effective when you start thinking in terms of therapy. There are also small things like the removal of my ass from his couch, one of my favorite places in the world. Yes, it’s a couch but it’s also the most peaceful place in the world to me on some days, especially after a long week at work. It’s the special food that appears magically before I visit, or the fact that he can eat both the desserts and I don’t totally flip out and lose it with him. Wanderlust brings a lot of good stuff to the table that you only find every now and then in a friend.

A friend. This is something that no matter how much we argue with others around us, people want to title us as more. We’ve stopped fighting because really it doesn’t matter what others think. People would be sorely disappointed if they really knew what our time looked like, and again it’s not something I really want to share with them.

It’s very seriously not something I want to share with just anyone, which means when it becomes that time I plan on putting my two cents in, with as little foot stomping as possible.