Reflecting & re-reading your own words can be a real kick in the ass. It's my own version of "self-inflicted"tough love. To say I have been struggling lately would be an under statement. The struggle is self created, for the most part. It's so self-defeating when you know what you need to do to "fix it" but it feels impossible at the same time.
Who the hell thought up Time Hop? Every morning there is a notification of the last 8 years. And even if I avoided Time Hop, Facebook has an "On this day" that will show up right in the middle of your 3rd crunchy taco at lunch. Nothing says "Have a Nice Day" like pictures of your dead dog, your kids before they were assholes or your ex-mother-in-law's passive aggresive comments. Who has time for that? Or the reminder of how awesome you felt and how good your were doing? Only to realize all that work has been side tracked by a million little things that you let get in the way. ( A friend told me that, totally not me. HA! )
What is it in "some" women ( of course not me ) that no matter how good they feel, how strong they get, how easy it is to make the time to make yourself a priority, but it still falls to the wayside. What has to give before I , I mean they, throw it in the fuck it bucket and take care of themselves. The rest will wait, right? There won't be guilt if you miss a the first quarter of a game or happy hour with the girls. Right? I mean nobody has ever been made to feel like they were the worst mother, daughter, sister, wife, BFF, employee just because they said "it's going to be all about me".
I've never considered myself a pioneer for women's lib or stand on a soap box preaching how I want to be treated like a man. I very much enjoy that I have four strong young men for sons that can take out my trash, mow the lawn, shovel the snow, kill the spiders and those jobs. I don't need to do those things. I already know how much of a woman I am. No amount of grass cutting or bug killing is going to make me forget that at then end of the day, when the house is all quiet......I'm still up going over the eleventy billion things I should've, could've, would've done. That's the most affirming thing that reminds me that I'm a woman.
This blog is jumpy and kind of all over the map. Partly because I'm writing in between scanning people's shitty Amazon purchases and fending off calls from a pissed off psychopath who's lost her Zappos shipment . The other part is because I'm scared. I'm scared to say that I'm disappointed in myself. I'm scared to acknowledge that my flare ups from my Lupus are my fault. I'm scared to talk about all of those things that add up to fuel my depression and anxiety. I need the accountability of being a scatterbrained emotional crybaby so I will give myself the kick in the ass I need to find my healthy happy place again. I am going to do what I know is best for me and my loves!
Take Care of You........