A letter to my Mother

You can’t have a Mother’s day right around the corner and NOT think about your mother. If you have read my blog for more than 5 mins (ok 1 year and 5 mins since I took some time off), then you know I don’t have the best relationship with my mother.

It’s so sad (to quote POTUS)

Have I tried to talk to her?  Yes.  Did it help? No.

The problem is not that I don’t love my mother.  It’s also not that she doesn’t love me.  We love each other very much…Love is not the problem. It is not the solution either.

See, my mother does not believe that I love her. She does not believe that I have forgiven her the abuse from the past. She thinks that I am an angry, bitter adult who refuses to let go of the past.  This my sweet readers is what projection looks like.

She will bring up things from the past, to make a point.  I will inevitably address her “point” and she will close with “you never let anything go”.  Hmmm, wait a second, weren’t you the one who brought that up.  That is completely beside the point, and it always is.

I have fantasies…of a better relationship with my mother.  I imagine us going out to lunch and have good conversations, laughing and thoroughly enjoying each others company.  I imagine family holiday dinners with good music, good food and fun.  There are times that I think it is possible.  Seriously, I know what I’m dealing with. I understand her pain and where it comes from, surely our love for each other can overcome all the negativity.  Prince said it…Love is the answer.

It is with great sadness I have to inform you that Love cannot save everything.

My mother, deep down, has a good heart.  I have told her this.  With everything she has said and done, underneath it all she has good intentions.  She means well, I know this.  I think that is why I still fantasize about our relationship being better.  There is some part of me that hopes that the better parts of her…the goodness, the well-meaning, the love will one day take the wheel and all the pain will take a back seat.  Sometimes I see a glimmer…and then with one blink of an eye the pain rears up its ugly head and knocks me back down.  Usually it’s with a back handed passive aggressive comment, sometimes it’s a full in your face insult.

She wants to help.  I want to let her help.  Her help comes with conditions, strict hard core “my way or no way” conditions.  My acceptance of her help also comes with conditions…to not give her ultimate control.  There are boundaries.  She out right refuses to accept or respect my boundaries.  She’s even said “what is a boundary?”.  Not sure if there is a way to get through to someone like that.  I’m still going to hold on to just a little tiny bit of hope.

So, to the strangers out there who read my stuff, let me say to you…

Mom, I love you. I miss you. Happy Mother’s Day.  You have made me a better mother, if not always for the right reasons. I have learned to love and appreciate the lessons I have received from you.  I see you in my little girl and somewhere in me feels like if I can love her through it, maybe I’m loving you a little too.  If I had a chance to hand pick my mother out, knowing what I know now, there are times I would have picked someone who was more loving, caring and nurturing.  Then I think that if I had that, I would not be the person I am today.  I would not know the things I know, love the way I do, and be graced with the two beautiful children that I have.  So, if I had a chance to choose, I would choose you.  If there was only one thing I could change it would be to help you to let go of all the pain and let the love in.  We are all missing out on some special relationships and we all suffer for it.  I wish you love and peace and thank you. Happy Mother’s day.

 

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On to the next chapter

So, let’s recap the recent adventures of my fucking life.

After years of searching I finally found a job to get me out of the grasps of a psychopath.  Walking away from that job and starting the new one gave me the courage to finally put my house on the market and find a place of my own.  It’s like I was riding the mother of all waves, flipping up my hang loose sign, sticking out my tongue and telling the world that this was totally rad dude.

I was settling in to the new place, planning out all the projects to do when shit starting hitting the fan at work.  At this point, I’m not sure if I was purposely ignoring the signs or if I was just being overly positive that everything was going to be fine.  People were getting laid off.  People were quitting.  I think in one week 3 people were gone.  I remember texting my girls and having them all say “get out girl…time to find something new.” The AP manager, who had put in her notice, told me that I should protect myself and find something new. Still…I honestly believed that this place would fine in the end, although a little leaner. This is where I was supposed to be.  I knew it in my gut.

On Friday, the few of us left in the office were brought in by the owner to discuss what had been happening and where they were headed.  They were in trouble, but they had a plan and wanted to know if they would have a staff to help get that plan in motion.  I was all in!!  It was going to be bumpy but I had faith that the company would come out strong in the end.  On Monday the boss gave me his CC to make a purchase for him and told me I should probably have that number so to be sure to keep it somewhere safe.  I did.  At 4 pm that afternoon we were all told they were closing their doors.

How the fuck could I have been so wrong???  Did I see this coming and ignore it?  Was I totally blindsided???  To make matters even worse it was the day before my birthday!  I was numb a little, trying to be strong…finding every bit of strength to not break down.

I did not want to cry.  I really didn’t even want to acknowledge it.  What the hell was I going to do???

After shedding a few tears, having a minor panic attack and coming clean with my daughter, I decided that this was going to be just fine.  I mean, come on, if this had happened just 3 months earlier I would have been totally screwed.  I would have most definitely lost my house because I did not have enough money in the bank. I would have been stuck there for way longer cause I would not be able to get approved for any new loan at that point.  It would have been a disaster.  BUT…it happened when it did and it was perfect.

I got to take my birthday off!  Who doesn’t love to have their birthday off!!  I was able to have a completely delightful morning make out session with the hunky stallion because…well, I didn’t have anywhere to go.  I was in a good place financially because with selling the old house I had equity so I had plenty of money in the bank.  Since I am a smart chick I was also putting mortgage payment money away even though I did not have a mortgage payment for 2 months during this process, so there was that.  Looking over my situation I realized I could go at least 3-4 months without having to touch any of the money from the house sell, and still be ok, still be able to do the things to the house that I wanted, just not all of them.  I was going to be ok, really, this could not have happened at a better time.

So….having faith paid off.  Things did not pan out like I had hoped…but that’s fucking life.  That’s why you have to stop with the expectation that life is only good if it happens like “this”.  You must be willing to let life unfold the way it is intended and believe that you will be ok.  That, my friends, if the god damn story of my whole fucking life.  Where once something like this would have put me in a complete state of dread and panic (or the people in my life, ie: my ex husband who is soooo damn dramatic) I was now able to have a (brief) moment of uncertainty and then turn my focus to acceptance and peace.

Now I have the time to work on getting the house settled.  I was going to take the time off to do all those things that would have eaten up every weekend for the next 6 months. Boxes unpacked.  Drawers and cabinets organized.  I was going to look for the right job, not just settle, while getting my house done the way I wanted.  This time is was going to be used wisely.  Come on, this was going to be great.  So far, it has been.

I have tackled some major shit that I would have dreaded doing after a long work week.  Ugly kitchen cabinets GONE! New sparkly wall, hell yeah!  Unpack boxes and get rid of more shit…bring it on.  I’ve been a beast when it comes to working on the shit here…I remind myself all the time about how bad it felt not doing the things I really wanted to do at the old house only to have to do them in record time for someone else to enjoy.  This is MY house! I will do with it what I please and it will be wonderful.

Being rejected is not fun.  Being rejected over and over and over and over….again and again totally sucks.  It’s easy to sit back and feel like a failure.  This is testing my faith. Faith in myself. Faith in my abilities. Faith in the Universe.  I’ve been up and down, and up again with feeling defeated by this circumstance.  Still, I continue to bring myself back to accepting that in the end, everything will be ok.

Accepting and gratitude is the fucking key.

At an appointment with my financial adviser to discuss my accounts and see how I was doing, I told her I had lost my job.  She asked what kind of job I was looking for…and we discussed my “qualifications”.  Then she said they were looking for a part time on call person and would I be interested.  Why yes I would be interested…yes the fuck I would!  Finding out about the specific position and the perks and the potential was just what I needed.  That along with the fact that my financial adviser thinks I’m fantastic and is already looking out for where I can be placed full time and permanently was just the confirmation I needed that, yes…everything was going to be just fine. I will be fine, even better perhaps.

Now I am focusing on training part time, while continuing to get my shit finished at the house.  I believe that once I that full time position opens up to me I will be done with most of the major work on the house which will be a lot less stressful and take less of my free time.  It’s all working out.  Every damn bit of it.

Am I lucky? Maybe, but I believe in my soul that things work out for me because I am willing to keep my faith.  I roll with the bad instead of screaming and yelling about how unfair life is.  Ok, sometimes I yell, but what I don’t do is stay there in a pool of self-pity and whine that I am a victim and life isn’t fair. I appreciate and show gratitude for the good things because I know that things could be worse.  I live the life I speak about…I practice it every fucking day.  Faith in something out there that is so much bigger than me has a plan…and it is a way better plan than I will ever dream of.

Life not going the way you wanted??? Think about how that could change if you just look at all the setbacks and bullshit in a different light.  I’m not letting the shit part of life drag me down…cause if you think about it, shit is the fertilizer. Gardeners and anyone who has a dog that shits in their yard will know what I mean. If you accept the shit, things will assuredly come out better that you dreamed.

Life is a little weird…but so am I

Wouldn’t it be nice if things just worked out like they were supposed to?

Well…actually they do.  What they don’t always do it work out the way WE think they are supposed to.

That is exactly what trips most of us up.  The expectation of how something is supposed to be.  Like for instance…you put your house on the market after 10 long agonizing years and 60 days of blood, sweat and tears just to get an offer within less than 48 hours with a 6 week closing date.  You feel so good knowing that by Christmas you will be in your new place, or at the very least out of this one.  You say a little thank you, panic just a little and start trying to figure out where the fuck you are going to live in 6 weeks.  Then shit happens.  There is a problem with the buyers loan, no biggie just a set back. Then there is another set back.  Now instead of being out before Christmas, you’ll be out before the end of the year.  Woot….a new year and a new place!! Honestly it’s like all the rainbows and sunshine are filling my world.

During all this we searched for a place to land.  I was not going to settle for just anything that I could afford…it was going to have to be the right place.  Being a person of faith and gut I knew that when we found it…we would know.  My daughter was not so sure.  She was starting to settle, “This one is ok.” “I could live with this.” “I don’t need to have…”.  There was no fucking way that I had waited this long only to jump into something that I was going to regret, or that would make me feel like I didn’t belong, again.  Just have faith…it’s coming. As the closing date grew closer I have to admit, I started to worry myself.  I made arrangements to rent so that we wouldn’t feel rushed to find a place.  My realtor was getting to know my preferences and we saw a lot of cute places that just were not fitting as a whole.  One had NO yard for the dog. One was out of the school district.  One didn’t have space for the boy.  So on and so on.

Every week I would send a list of potentials to the realtor and we would visit…always coming up a little short.  One day I sent her a listing that had been on the market for a little over a month, “why haven’t we looked at this one?”. Neither of us had a clue.  It was in the school district, two bedroom duplex with a basement, two baths, small yard and super clean.  Almost as soon as we got in the door I knew I would be making an offer.  My daughter joined us shortly after and when asked what she thought she said “IT’S A 10”.  That meant, make an offer.  Now…just because I think everyone needs to understand why I believe the things I do, I’m going to tell you what I was telling my realtor the whole time.  “Carmen, I’ll find it a week before the closing.”  She laughed, but as it got closer she would tell me that she was beginning to believe me.  I put the offer in on the house and after 2 days of negotiating the offer was accepted and they were willing and able to close the same day as mine.  This was one week before the closing on my house.  Don’t doubt me people, I know my shit.

Everything was a go…until the buyers had more issues with their loan.  Now we were looking at somewhere in January.  Fuck. I’m going to have to spend another Christmas if this fucking house.  I’m going to have to spend New Years in this fucking house.  Ugh….I’m going to lose MY house.  This is where it get’s tough, and where you have got to have fucking faith that things will work out exactly the way they are supposed to…and not the way you want them too.

Not only were my sellers cooperative, but everything was FINALLY falling into place.  We had a REAL closing date, both scheduled on the same day.  Even though we did not get to spend Christmas in the new place, or New Years…there was a sweet perk to closing after the first of the year.  Apparently when a home is held by a senior, they get a lock on their taxes so they don’t go up. This is assessed every year.  Every January.  Even though I am NOT a senior I get to benefit from that for the whole year.  My taxes will stay the same as the previous owner for the first year.  See…that’s how this fucking shit works.

This was going to turn out to an even bigger blessing than I originally thought, because after just one month in my new home I found myself unemployed. Jesus grab the wheel cause this girl is going to crash hard.

I guess this is where I should have been committed to the psych ward, because just when I was feeling like it was ok to exhale and relax, it wasn’t. Not even fucking close.

****More hokey shit****

When we bought our first home waaaaay back when I was just a baby (ok l I was 22), I said we would be in that house for 5 years.

Year 5 we moved and bought a bigger place just in time to find out I was preggers with baby blessing number one.  I said we would be in that house for 10 years.

At the 10 year mark I was settled into it and thought it would be ok to stay longer. The place fit, I felt relaxed (sort of anyway, for someone who was depressed and failing at marriage).  That was when the In Laws decided to move away and sell their house and when the hubs thought it was a brilliant idea to fucking buy his childhood home.  Fuck.

After the months and months of crying over moving into this house I was starting to feel like I had to embrace this hole as a stepping stone to a better life, I said 7 years.

3 years later I was divorced.  At year 7 I had been divorced for 4 years, in a shitty job, in a not so good relationship and there was no way I was getting out of there.  WTF??? Where did this 7 year commitment come from??? How the fuck can I be right soooo often only to come up short this time???

By the time I moved out I realized that I had been in that house as a single parent for exactly 7 years.

BOOM.  That’s insane right???? Hahaha…yeah, I told you to trust me.

So I’m sure you are wondering…how long in this new house?  As of today I still don’t have a clue.  Nothing is coming to me, not a single nudge.  I have a few theories on why that is, but right now, this post is long as shit.

Following your gut also known as “Are you fucking insane?”

Being able to quit a job that was dragging me down gave me the energy and faith to see my life finally going in a positive direction.  It was time to grab on to that energy and make the changes that I had been holding back for so long.  So, after a few months settled in to a job where I was appreciated and valued, I decided to tackle another big personal move.  I was finally going to sell my house.

That house was never a place I truly felt at home.  This was a house that was forced on to me by my then husband despite my never-ending rejection.  He had it in his head and there was no changing his mind.  So, we bought the house and did our updates while day after day I cried.  Finally, I decided that if this is where I was, I was going to accept it and do my best to make it mine.  It was only 3 years in that I found myself divorced and tackling this shit on my own.  As usual, I flopped back and forth for years trying to accept and be at peace with it, and feeling the need to kiss it goodbye.  I allowed other people’s opinions sway my decision to stay for way to long…then one day I decided enough was enough and I was going to let go of that goddamn house once and for all.

Once I made up my mind, I moved like a ninja.  I got an agent who was referred to me by a good friend.  She had an awesome marketing plan and since the market was only just starting to crawl back up, I decided to pay her way more than I would have ever paid a real estate agent, in hopes that this would be a done deal by summer. It was August and my plan was to have it on the market by spring.  She said, why wait?  So instead of giving myself 6 months to prepare I took on the challenge of getting it ready in just 60 days.  I must be crazy, right?  I knew there was a LOT to do to get this shit together before opening it up, but…I said yes, and so it began.

The first thing on my awesome agents marketing plan was to have a professional stager come in and make recommendations. I, being the fierce bitch I am, already had a shit ton of things on the list that I personally felt needed to be done.  She agreed with my entire list, and only had a few more suggestions.  It was time to get working, there was no time to waste….so every spare moment I had for the next 8 weeks was spent getting that house ready to release.  The week after I made the decision, a neighbor two houses down put their house on the market.  Fuck.  Their house was sooooo much nicer than mine and I knew that although my house had a lot of new upgrades, their house needed a lot less work…at least in my mind. How in the hell was I going to compete with that? I mean there house looked like it was dropped right out of a 1970’s house beautiful magazine spread. Ugh…well, I’m not backing out now so I put my faith in my decision and went ahead with it.

There was a lot of emotion in every bit of it.  I was bitter about my situation and I knew that I had to let that go.  Everyday during lunch, after work, weekends….late into the night I tackled that fucking list.  So many of the projects I knew I should have done years before, for myself, but because sometimes I’m really stubborn, I put them off because, well, fuck this house.  I packed, cleaned, painted, repaired, replaced, packed, cleaned, painted, repaired and replaced my little heart out.  Clearing out shit that belonged to my ex in-laws because they didn’t want to deal with it, pissed me off.  Clearing out shit that my ex-husband left because he didn’t want to deal with it, pissed me off.  I took car loads of crap to Goodwill, tossed out things that were older than my kids, had two garage sales and filled the garbage bins to capacity on a weekly basis.

Although I did not get everything on the list completed, I did a damn fine job and finally it was time.  The second step in the marketing plan was to have a professional photographer come in.  I cleaned that mother fucker like my life depended on it and staged each room with simplicity and style.  The pictures turned out beautiful and there was a twinge of what I thought was regret in my belly.  Was I doing the right thing?  Was I being emotional instead of practical?  What the fuck??? You could have done all this shit for yourself and been at peace with your situation, right???  AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

On November 1st  the house went live.  I was even more nervous because the house down the street was still for sale and they had dropped their price twice already.  Fuck…fuck fuck fuck fuck.  Ok, this is what it is and let’s let it roll. At least I’ll have some time to relax and enjoy my work for a while, right?

Nope.

I had my first request for a showing within hours of it going live.  Here we go, I told myself, time to open yourself up for a shit ton of disappointment and criticism.  I mean everyone is going to point out what a shit hole that house is and how it nowhere near worth your asking price. You are going to lose lady…and it’s going to hurt a lot. Thankfully, I could not have been more wrong.  Within less than 48 hours of listing that house I had full asking price and a request to close in 6 weeks.  OMG OMG OMG OMG….this shit is fucking real!!!! After 10 years of being in a house I never wanted to be in I’m finally going to get to walk away…finally going to be able to start my own life.  There was no time for rest….now it was full speed ahead to clear out and find something of my own.

Step one: get away from the crazy psycho boss.

Check.

Step two: let go of that house.

Check.

And then it was done

It was the best of times…it was the worst of times.

Well, maybe not that dramatic, but working for a psychopath has its ups and downs.

I knew after the first week I was there that it was not the place for me.  Although I have had a lifetime of experience with narcissists this guy took it to a whole new level. That coupled with the fact that I needed to be collecting a paycheck, made it that much harder to just up and leave.  I wanted and need out like never before. In everything there is a lesson…I was going to have to hold on to that for 3 whole fucking years.

This is another of those situations where one moment I had complete faith in the Universe to provide so I jumped in with both feet, then the next I freeze and become “responsible”.  Which really is just another word for scared.  Instead of walking away from a horrible situation, I tried to reason with myself that this was meant to be. There is a lesson here I need to accept.  You deserve this shit.  Anything but have faith in myself, and in the Universe.  So, I stayed, while it ate at me every day.

There were times when I would apply my fucking heart out…then peter out because it seemed like there was no hope in site.  However, I never really gave up.  After I had my fill of the insanity I dug my heels in and with the help of my friends, applied to anywhere and everywhere in hopes to find something that would get me out of that place.

At one point I was reaching out to everyone I had applied to in an effort to see if there was a chance to get an interview. Someone responded…then nothing.  A few weeks later I sent another request and got that interview scheduled.  Sort of long story short, I got the job!!! Close to home, small growing company, better pay and better hours.  I was like having my prayers answered, and I was being rewarded for either putting up with 3 years of bullshit or for my persistence.  Either way, I was on my way out, and I was going to do it my way.

People have quit this place before.  I have seen them be humiliated, shamed and abused during the process. I have listened to lie after lie about why they left, how they were the problem to begin with…after 2 years one guy was still on the shit list and the boss still took every opportunity to bring him up and talk shit.  I was NOT going to subject myself to that.

After I got the offer on the new job, I picked my quit date.  It was going to be a Saturday when I would be the only one in the office, one therapist, and NO big boss.  This was going to take almost two weeks.  I was going to go out on MY terms, without notice and with my head held high.  So, I wrote (with the help of the internet) a professional letter of resignation, explaining that for personal reasons, I would not be giving any notice, but that I knew my co-workers would be able to handle things in my absence.

Needless to say, I was nervous, and yet exhilarated by the thought that after all the abuse, the belittlement, the condensation and negativity I was finally going to be able to walk away.  On that Saturday I showed up to work and did my job as usual.  When it came time to leave, I took my name plate, office key and letter of resignation and put it on the assistant manager’s desk.  I gathered up all my personal items, said goodbye to the therapist still there and sent an update to the assistant manager, manager and big boss on the happenings of the day.  I closed with, please check your email for my letter of resignation.

BOOM!

I left.  Walked out.  Flipped off the building and made my way home.  OOOOHHHHHH….I wonder what they all must be thinking. I’m sure that it was seconds before they were checking their emails and calling each other with a WTF????

The manager tried to call, she was worried about me. I was not falling for that shit.  Then she emailed.  I said I was fine, and that due to personal reasons, this is how it had to be.  I gave no explanation.

When I got my final paycheck, I noticed that my vacation pay was not included.  Being prepared for this (because I know who the fuck I’m dealing with) I sent an email asking when I could expect it.   This is when I was told that is was a use it or lose it policy and that since I gave no notice and would not talk to them that they would not be honoring that.  HA. Bitch, please…I was ready for this exact response.

I sent a follow up email advising that I had read through the office policies, and there was no mention of not receiving unused vacation upon termination.  I also sent an excerpt and link to the Illinois dept of labor outlining that I did indeed have a right to that money.  I clicked send. The email was returned….Send again, returned again.  Apparently, my email was flagged for spam.  OOOhhhhh, they are funny, but they totally underestimate me.  So, I sent it through an alternate email, explaining that if I did not receive the vacation pay earned that I would be filing a complaint with the DOL and including this email along with the rejected effort marked as spam.

“Fine. It’s not worth arguing about.”

That was that…I got my money and was able to put that fucker and his insane business practice behind me once and for all!!!!

Woot woot.

On to a better life…for a while anyway.

 

The boys are back in town…well, it’s just me

Well well well…Look who’s back in town. It has been over a year since I have written anything and I  can tell you that it has been a whirlwind of a year.

Why did I stop writing?? That’s a good question and you would think that I had put some thought into that before I decided to open myself back up…but I haven’t.  I think that I was tired of writing about the same shit all the time, or more specifically, writing about not getting anywhere in my life.  It makes sense that at some point you should look at your life and think…what the hell am I doing???  Besides, if I was bored reading it, then anyone would be too.  So, I took some time off…a long time off, and I have come back with changes!  That’s right, finally my life has stopped riding the same boring roller coaster and I have boarded a new one.

Here’s a quick snap shot of what has happened over the last year (and then some):

I got a new job!

I quit my job for the psychopath Dr!

I sold my house and bought a much smaller more doable home!

I have a solid relationship with the Stallion!

I lost my job.

Ok.  So that sort of brings you up to date. Of course, you are probable all on pins and needles to hear the actual details of each and every one of those changes and how they came to be, and being the ever so gracious host that I am, I will oblige.  However, they are each in their own right, deserving of their own post, so they will come shortly.

Let me say I am in a really really good place. My mind is at ease, my heart is at peace and I have more focus than I have in a long time.

What hasn’t changed, I still haven’t quit smoking, I still can’t fit into those fucking jeans, and I still have problems with keeping a healthy eating and exercising.  However, I have not given up on any of them.

So that is where I’m at for now.  Hopefully there are a few people out there who will be happy to hear about my updates.  There will be more consistency in my updates…at least that’s the plan.

A clear perspective

I make no secret that I have been in counseling for several years. There is no doubt in my mind that it has saved me in more ways than one.  It did not save my marriage, it did not save my relationship with my mother…it has saved me from thinking that there is something wrong with me.  Sometimes it’s all about validation…I am not wrong for feeling the way I do.  Other times it’s giving me a new perspective on the reasons I am the way I am, and why I feel the way I feel.

Love:

“Wait…are you in love with him?”

I was completely taken aback by that question, and to be completely honest, the thought had come up just a few days earlier.  The answer to that question is as complicated for me as almost anything in my life right now.  The bottom line, I don’t know.  What I do know is that I want to be in love….I feel like after nearly 3 years together we should be in love.  However, love has always been a volatile emotion for me.  My relationships have been wrapped in my taking the blame for all that is wrong, and teaching people that it doesn’t matter how bad you treat me…I will always love you, I will always forgive you.

So what it boils down to is that I do not know what true love is.  I do not know how to be loved in an honest healthy way.  Of course, I do know what it should look like, how it should feel…yet I can’t seem to wrap my little brain around how any of that relates to me.  The task I have been given is to allow myself the opportunity to have the kind of love I truly want.  Dare I say, the kind of love I deserve.

Change:

A couple of weeks ago I had a night where I couldn’t sleep.  First off, I was completely and totally grateful that it wasn’t one of those nights that I was hyper-focused on a conversation, a comment, or feeling.  What did that mean?  Why didn’t I say this or that?  If only I had done this… Ugh, I have had way to many nights like that in the past and it sucks.  This time, it was just calm reflection, but still, the mind would not quiet.  After an hour or so I decided to get out my journal, and write it out.

Each area turned into no less than 3-4 pages.  Apparently I had some things to get off my mind.  The job, the home, the man, the friends, the ex, the smoking, the goals, the weight….There was a lot of shit packed in there that night.  The common thread seemed to commitment (or lack there of) and follow through.  Why oh why can’t I take that great idea, thought or intention, and follow through, focus and commit to any of them.  Well, it seems that I may tend to overthink (I know I was shocked too) (not really) (I’m not fooling anyone) and as was recently suggested “hyper-focus” on emotions that have no real value to the situation.  That isn’t exactly the phrase he used, but the bottom line is I  spend too much time thinking about things, applying inaccurate emotional value to things, situations and people, and not giving myself enough credit or acknowledgement that sometimes and some things are just out of my control.

I have not quit smoking because I am a failure and weak in my commitment.

I have not found a better job because I am not good enough or qualified enough for anything better than this.

I have not sought a better relationship because I don’t really deserve anything better than just the crumbs someone is willing to offer.

I can’t followed though on my yoga, house projects, meal planning, etc etc etc…because you just aren’t good at taking care of shit.

As it has been explained to me…I have a little more in common with my son than I may have been willing to admit to.  None of these things are character flaws…they are more traits of someone with ADD.  I am too focused on having a mediocre life, because it is something familiar and predictable. It is just easier to blame myself for the mediocrity than to actually accept that I could do better and pursue it.  So, it’s time to admit that I might need a little help.

It was suggested, that if I got a little help with what’s going on with my brain, I might be able to stay focused enough to follow through on all those areas of my life that are lacking.

I am not a bad person for having a hard time quitting smoking…I have an addiction that needs to be addressed.

I am not a bad person for wanting to leave my current job…it has served its purpose and I deserve an opportunity to be in a position where my strengths can be appreciated and I can be allowed to grow.

I am not a bed person for wanting a more fulfilling relationship filled with love and commitment…I deserve to be with someone who wants and appreciates what I have and is eager to return the feelings.

I am not a bad person for not staying focused on the tasks that need to be taken care of…I can give myself permission to accept that I need some help.

It’s going to be an interesting journey.  Somehow I’m going to have to admit I am not the flawed person I have been telling myself I am…I am human, sometimes we need a little help, and a clearer perspective.