“I can’t give you a sure-fire formula for success, but I can give you a formula for failure: try to please everybody all the time.” ― Herbert Bayard Swope
Truer words have never been spoken.
I am my own worse enemy. I struggle daily with food, with life, with health.
I struggle with being everything to everyone all the time.
I’m burnt out.
I’m exhausted.
I can’t possibly keep up this pace and be of any use to anyone.
I need to make things better or things will fall apart.
I feel like a little rag doll. I’m stitched about the edges to hold in my stuffing, but if you shake me the wrong way, I’ll spill out and fall apart. My seams will rip out, my button eyes come loose. My stuffing will spill out and make a mess. I’ll have failed at being me, even though I didn’t know I could be me.
Right now, at this moment, I hate myself. I hate that I gave in to a horrid craving (it has actually made me feel sick). I hate that I haven’t been able to go to the gym in a week. I hate that I can’t be with my youngest who wanted me to stay home today with him. I hate that I haven’t taken all my kids to the beach yet this summer. I hate that I suck at money. I hate my body. I hate the fog that is permeating my brain. I hate my exhaustion. I hate my anxiety. I hate my stress. I hate everything about it and it boggles my mind that anyone should love me.
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’ve done many things in my life that have caused regret. I’ve been encumbered by my inability to act, by my inability to move past those days. I’ve been shackled by self-blame and self-hate.
It’s funny how a person can change as they age. Looking at myself as a 16 year old, I can see how carefree I was – unencumbered by life. I had issues, don’t get me wrong – but they were so minor compared to the rollercoaster of adulthood.
Regret can grip you tight and knot you up inside.
Regret.
I breathe in a great sigh.
I have wasted so much time on that one little six letter word…regret…
I am now 42 years old. I am enjoying knitting for the first time in my life (and getting creative with it). The pain and numbness of my hands does not stop me. I will not regret this. My daughter has the opportunity to go to Greece in her last year of high school…I will not regret that. My son shows more and more interest in computers and programing, I will no regret allowing him the screen-time to grow that interest. My youngest is slow to grow, but quick of mind – I will never regret nursing him as long as I have and I will never regret having him at my age.
I am learning to let go of regret. It’s a hard lesson, one that many do not heed, but it is a wonderful lesson. It is a lesson in self-love and self-acceptance.
I am learning to love myself…and that moves me past regret.
I’m working on it Gandhi, I’m working on it. Though I would include letting go of things. I have a horrible time letting things go and it is usually the bad that sticks. I need to think happy thoughts, say happy things, and do things that make me happy. Maybe then I will be everything I want to be for myself and my family.
Smiling
I walk to the end of
happiness
dropping off into
a swirl of
depression
anger
regret
self-hate
digging and clawing
lead to exhaustion
and
fear
fear is the happiness
killer
fear of the unknown
of a
happiness
not burdened by guilt
burdened by a need
to be all
to
everyone
guilt of parenthood
be health
be strong
be everything
WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU
being everything
robs one of a sense
of self
a separate
but whole
happiness
is but a step away
a leap into a
cloud of emotion
waiting
I want to be that candle. Now to get my body to agree with me. I’m trying to be upbeat. It’s not working. I’m having a bad day.
I joined our biggest loser thing here at my office. I lost a few pounds. I went to get weighed this morning and discovered I’d gained them back. I’m discouraged. I’m disgusted. I feel like crying. I’m in pain from my two walks yesterday. I feel like all I do is complain or make excuses. I’m also told I’m too hard on myself, but personally, I think I’m not hard enough.
I look in the mirror with disgust. Yes, I really do hate my body. I guess you could say I’m a thin, fit woman on the inside. That fit woman is begging to get out. She hates what she feels and doesn’t know – no – has forgotten how to attain her goals.
Baby steps. I need to remember that all good, positive change happens in baby steps. I do have health problems – I can’t just lunge into things and expect immediate change.
I’m the mirror watching the candle burn at both ends. I want to be the candle, breathing in the air around me, using it to fuel my transformation. Glow strong and bright.
The rain outside, though cleansing, isn’t helping my mood. The dampness has settled into my lungs and I am once again wheezing…and I can’t find my inhaler. *facepalm* Sometimes I wonder how I have made it this far. I won’t melt in the rain, sometimes I even love to dance in it, but I prefer to be shielded by an umbrella.
Sounds so ominous, doesn’t it? I am, by admission, my own worse enemy. The fighter in me wants to destroy that Monster, negative self-talk and anxiety. I’ve tried for years and occasionally I win a battle, but I have never won the war. Constant voices of self-doubt, self-humiliation, self-deprecation, self-bullying (because, really, that is what it is) drag down my ability to be content in life, and, in the end, drag down my health.
One merely has to look at me in a quirky or different way and those voices become a screaming chorus. “What did I do wrong?”; “Why are they looking at me like that? Do I say something stupid?”; “Why did I have to say that?”; “Why bother looking in the mirror, you look like a fat slob and you know it.”; “You really think they care about you or what you think?”; “Why bother trying to lose weight, it won’t change that you’re a freak?” That, my friends, is just a sampling of the self-talk in my head…not to mention the conversations I dream of having should I develop some confidence and self-worth.
I’m not all dreary, I can assure you. My confidence is better than it was and I do hold a full-time position. I love my job, I enjoy the people I work with, but I always have doubts. When in a particular bad place I always call my husband or email a friend. It’s so important to have people you can trust to talk to!
I know that there is another monster in there sometimes, a lot of times actually. Depression. I hate that word and the monster it creates. Combined with ADD – I have a detrimental ability of wanting to get things done, wanting it now and having absolutely no energy or will-power to do it. It’s so hard to explain to someone who doesn’t contend with these issues. Anxiety can be crippling, Depression draining, and ADD a confusion wash of diversions and distractions. Than add a case of mild MS to the mix.
Hmmm…the best I can liken it to for someone who doesn’t ‘get’ it is this – picture wanting to run a race, you start your race at the same pace as the others, but then someone from the sidelines comes and puts a bag of stones in your arms. You now have to carry those stones and try to keep up. You manage for a time, it’s hard, but you can do it. Next thing you know – another bag is heaved onto your back. Now your starting to struggle and fall behind. The pace is half that of the others, but you are still in the race. All of a sudden, you become mired in quicksand – you didn’t see it because of the stones in your arms that blocked your view. You can’t move, you’re struggling to break free. You’re exhausted. You just want to lay down and rest. You want to close your eyes and pretend that you don’t have the stones, and you aren’t mired in quicksand, but there is no escape until someone comes to help you.
I think that’s a pretty good analogy of how I feel. I can keep up, I can maintain, but then something happens and I become mired, entrenched, in that quicksand. It’s so hard to get out. I have an amazing family and 99% of the time I am able to keep up with everyone, but that 1% of the time, I just want to lay my head down and rest. No joy in the world could drag me out of it.
It sucks, and that’s an understatement. I want to get everything done, I want to function at 100% 100% of the time. I want to have the energy of my kids and get up and go. I’m also under the weather this week so that is no doubt where this post comes from. It is born out of frustration, a frustration brought out of stagnation and a desire to get myself into a good place, and out of the dark.
