The Mystery of Me

I'm sitting at the library with my laptop right now. The quiet is nice. The reason for being her isn't. Our power was shut off. We live in an old home and our power bills in the winter to heat it runs about $800/mo. Insane! We obviously get behind but continue to pay as much as we can monthly on top of our regular bill. However that wasn't good enough for them and they shut us down. Took an entire paycheck to get them to turn it back on but over 24 hours later, they still haven't managed to get it back on.

Funny how things like this can be troublesome. Other than the inconvenience with food in my freezer I'm probably going to have to throw away, it really isn't a big deal and yet, I'm going crazy. Not having my usual distractions related to the internet are frustrating. Sure there are a lot of other things I could do but doing them in another thing.

I was reading in the bible today about self control. God highly recommends it and yet there are times when losing control are good. I'm not sure not having power would fall under either one of those categories but it's what popped into my head so it's what you get. :)

Anyway, I was researching self control because I'm not using "my powers" for good.  I am not using my time wisely. I waste so much on a daily basis with gaming, goofing around with my kids, reading, smoking. I could really get much more accomplished if I'd just do something. But I don't. I prefer to be a bump on a log. Is it depression? I don't think so. If I'm depressed I'm not knowing it. I think it is honestly pure laziness.

And yet when I explore that emotionally I find myself in a feeling of rebellion. But against what? What could I possibly be rebelling against by not doing anything productive? Perhaps it's the definition of productive...ya. No. I'm not productive. Perhaps its a fear of failure but that would imply that fear is the root of rebellion. Is it?

Is there a fear of something that makes a person want to push back against it? Is it fear of failure? Is it fear of succeeding? When I look into the rebellion of not doing things I find myself overwhelmed. If I was talking to my kids I would tell them to take it one step at a time. Break down the picture into little pieces... I can do that but it still doesn't explain the lack of acting on it.

For example, my hardwood floors REALLY need to be washed and steamed clean. I can do it the lazy way which means I just go around the rugs and furniture. It would take me about 10 minutes. Or I could do it the thorough way and move furniture, roll up rugs, sweep, dust and vacuum first. Obviously the first option sounds best. But I can't bring myself to do the lazy way because it won't be done right.

When I think of doing it the thorough way, I find myself making excuses like the dogs will get in the way, I can't move heavy things with my knee still healing. And of course, I just don't want to. So the question becomes, do I do it the lazy way to just get something done or do I leave it and do nothing at all until I feel like being more thorough. I usually choose the second option but I never feel like being more thorough so it hasn't happened in about a month.

I have so much time on my hands. Time that goes flitting away with each tap on a screen or click of a mouse. Time I know that I won't get back. Why isn't that enough? Why isn't it enough to know that I can do the wasting of time when I finish doing the things that should get done? Why do I feel helplessly trapped in a routine that involves nothing worthwhile and everything wasteful of time?

It's a bizarre feeling to not feel like you have control over your own life and your time. Yet, if God told me to be different I would...but I'm not asking either. Plausible deniability of sorts. My Dad working his butt off in our yard to make it look better and seem more manageable doesn't motivate me, having the house empty all day without kids when they are in school doesn't motivate me. Working and trying to balance everything at home doesn't motivate me. And again, all I feel is this undercurrent of anger and rebellion. Is there something in my past that makes me so dead set against being more productive? What or who am I hurting besides myself?

Who am I hurting besides myself...hurting...I am trying to hurt someone? The answer is yes. I have resentment somewhere that is standing in the way but I couldn't tell you at who. My standby response would be my Mom. Yet, I can not tell you why that would be.

Don't you hate it when people take phone calls in the library...GRRR!!!!

Anyway back to the point. I am angry that I have the responsibilities? Am I angry that I have to do these things? No, it doesn't seem so. But again there is definitely anger. So what is it I know...

I know that I am lazy. Not by nature though. It really cuts against my grain. Even my Dad has noticed it and mentioned it. I know that I am rebelling against something or someone and I know that I am angry. I guess I'd better pray about it because I really am not coming up with anything on my own. I need guidance because whatever I just stumbled on really needs to be taken care of. Not with self-control but with healing. I can try to control myself and my actions and force myself to do things I don't want to but we really aren't talking about self control are we? We are talking about a deeper issue that need addressing...

Good thing we don't have power I guess. It will give me a lot of time to explore it...assuming I don't find other ways to distract myself from the truth of the situation... Lol!

Happy Anniversary Mom

Today is the first anniversary of my Mom's passing. Honestly I didn't realize it until I logged onto Facebook and saw my brothers and sister had posted stuff about it. Strange how dates have no significance to me. Is that because I'm not the sentimental type? Or perhaps its another coping skill where I try to be blissfully ignorant. I don't know.

I think about what has happened over the last year. A lot and yet nothing significant. It's all perspective. There is nothing else that has happened that would stand out the way losing my Mom has. Sure, relationship issues, kid issues, church issues...they are truly mundane when it comes to life...or not life.

I don't know what I'd say to her if she was here. I can't say I miss her because I don't. I can't say I want her back because I don't. There are positive memories that I can hold on to but most of them are negative. That really sucks. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one in the family who feels like this. I know my Dad has expressed relief as well but he also grieves the loss of a companion, a friend and a partner. I don't.

I grieve the Mom she wasn't and yet I see how she made changes and tried to make things better. Changes that I didn't really accept when they happened. Now that she's gone I can see those attempts and partially feel grateful. The other part is angry. Why so long? How can you just think you can step up and buy me shit and think that it is going to be better? Giving me a book on my birthday called "You're fat and it's not your fault" is not a sign of love. Forcing me into a marriage with a man I wasn't in love with was not love. Shaming me for having dogs that shed hair and refusing to come over because of it wasn't love. Judging me for too many kid-drawn pictures and great homework scores on the fridge was not love. But it was her way of showing love no matter how ass-backwards.

When I look at the ways I was hurt by her I wonder what my brothers and sister remember. I wonder if they have chosen to look past that and see the public persona that was far different than the woman she was behind closed doors. I wonder if they have looked past all the abuse and decided that it would dishonor her memory if they went there. I wonder if they honestly didn't see it or experience it like I did and I just got to be her scapegoat for a bad day, a regretted life, a lost dream.

Yes I am angry with her. Not just for the bad things but also for robbing me of the life I could have had with a Mom who was nurturing, supportive, loving, gentle, kind and committed. I wonder how it would have been different if she had not put the kibosh on my songwriting career. I wonder how it would have been had she showed up at a track, gymnastics, swim meet. I wonder how it would have been if she had given me hugs and told me I was beautiful, special, important. I wonder how it would have been if she had said once she was proud of me. How would I have been different? What path would my life had taken?

Yet I am grateful for where I live, the friends in my life, my amazing children even though she tried to get me to abort a couple of them, my puppies, my home, my talents and gifts, my tenacity, my intelligence, my experiences that have shaped me into who I am today. I like myself for the most part. The core of who I am is good regardless of some of my less savory actions. :) And I can say that is because of who she was in my life. Good or bad, she had a major influence. I making progress in the bad areas and nurturing the good areas. She taught me how to be a survivor, how to be resourceful, showed me who I can trust and who I cant, and I can take a punch like a man. Never know when that is gonna come in handy... (wink).

So Mom, this one is for you. Good or bad I can't honestly say right now. However you were here, you're gone and I hope you are happy where you are. I know how to be happy and find joy. Thanks for that.

Living The Dream

I'm sitting in the restaurant my best friend works at. Hoping she will get off a little early so we can chill but even if she doesn't, I'm going to do this more often.

I'm humored watching and listening to people. We really are very confusing as people. Our words say one thing and our actions another. There's a couple of ladies next to me bragging about their lives. Comparing notes and trying to top each other with who's kids have better grades, who makes more money, who has better relationships. It's sad yet funny. I feel bad that is what they gauge their worth by and chuckle because I've been there.

I remember caring what neighborhood I lived in, what car I drove, how much money my husband makes, whether or not my kids are well groomed when they leave the house. I remember not daring to be seen in any place "unsavory" or with people that could hurt my "image". Then God got me. He dropped me to my knees and made me choose between His way or the world's way. I choose God and had to give it all up. Oddly it didn't feel like it was much of a sacrifice.

What I gained was far greater. A sense of peace. A future without competition but contentment. Joy in the safety and security of knowing I don't have to measure up, I just need to be me. Flaws, faults, hurts, resentments included. It's all good.
I look back at myself and giggle. I was so niave. I was so young. I really had bought into the "american dream" but it's worthless and yet so many people are trapped in the place of living the dream. What do you think would happen if the world started to live a new dream?

It's a cool thought...