Wednesday, September 26, 2012

All in my head

I went to an apple orchard this week. The weather was beautiful, the fruit was delicious, and The Kiddo couldn't stop laughing. I couldn't ask for a more picturesque setting. Yet underneath my happy exterior I was fighting to keep the voices that whisper mean things to me at bay.

 "You're quite pitiful and pathetic. Look at you, acting like child. What sort of 31 year old woman runs around on a playground, climbs trees, and dives into a ball pit? Do you see the other adults acting like you? The answer is no, dumbass."

When I hear these things, I feel like a fraud, a failure around adults. I don't have a strict 9-5 job, so my paycheck shifts around. I don't have my own place, I don't eat vegetables at every meal, and I take The Kiddo into cemeteries looking for weather-worn headstones. My days aren't planned out and neither is my grocery list.

I know I don't follow the norm, and some days I am fine with that. Most days I secretly hope that The Kiddo's friends will think he has a neat, adventuresome, somewhat quirky mom.

 But those voices can be so mean. I just want to be happy and love being me.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012


I stopped writing a while back and it's taken me a good long while to figure out just why.  It's not that I didn't have anything to talk about.  Plenty has happened since April when I dropped off the radar: friends got married, I got a job, moved four states away, my friend died, babies died.  A lot has gone on.

Yet I have not written, which is one thing my shrink said I must do if I want to keep working on the things that dwell in my head.

I finally know why I stopped writing.  It's because I got scared.  I let the ugly voices convince me that if I were to write about the things that run around inside my head that it would scare everyone off.  I have grown convinced that if I lay bare the sad, angry, happy, silly, mixed-upness that is me that I will never find anyone who wants to be close to me.

Not to long ago, a friend announced that she was getting a divorce and that really upset me.  She battles with mental health demons and I know that must have been a stress point in her marriage.  My bizarre little brain tells me that even though I'm not involved with anyone, if in the future I do have a counterpart, he'll probably realize I am a bag of crazy and not want to deal with me in the long run.  Basically I've spent months being upset about a scenario that doesn't exist in this dimension.  I've been paralyzed about a future that is not there.

I know it doesn't help that the baggage that I still haul around occasionally falls off the luggage carousel and I have to re-pack the contents before I close them again.  I hate being reminded that my son's father left me because he was too weak.  I hate that his family packed me up on an auto train and shipped me away.  I hate all things that were said to me, implying that I was not fit to be a mother.

I hate that when my fiancee dumped me at the alter, claiming that I was not trustworthy and would probably have an affair, still angers me.  He came from a broken family, which saddens my heart.  He had problems that he was unable to see, but I still loved that foolish boy.  I know that I would not make the same mistakes and get involved with someone so damaged, but I am still afraid of trusting someone again. 

Like a child that hides under the blankets to avoid the scary monsters in the closet, I am afraid that if I poke my head above the covers I will discover there is no one who wants to be near me.  That I'm the crazy monster in the closet.