For a large portion of the day, I felt so grumpy that I didn't think I should be allowed around other humans. I almost typed "grumpy for no good reason", but then I thought about it, and it was more like "grumpy for a thousand good reasons, but none that I can do anything about right this second", which basically amounts to the exact same thing. I came here, all prepared to write (yet another) endless rant about lord only knows what, but sometime in the last half hour, while sitting at the table with my family eating a very late dinner, the majority of those bad feelings shrunk down to manageable, and I think I'll save the rant for another day. For tonight, I think I'll tell you how glad I am that I'm just sitting here, wandering around through the internet, while most of the people I love are accounted for.
It seems, at least to me, that my life - and the lives of the people I am closest to - has become a series of blundering our way through one emergency to another, from one crisis to the next, ricocheting from one hectic gathering to the last, often leaving very little time for essentials of life, such as breathing or eating. Every day has taken on an urgency that didn't used to be there, and at the same time, leaves me with such a useless, futile feeling: It's as if I'm running as hard as I can, and getting nowhere, not understanding that there's a treadmill beneath my feet as opposed to a street.
Moving all the time - at least mentally - and making no progress. Even the areas where I can see progress being made, it feels like so little, too little to ultimately matter. I am that prototypical lone sailor, trying to bail out my boat with a teaspoon, only some days, it seems more like a thimble. So it's a rare treat when I can stop running for a little while, put down the teaspoon/thimble, and just be.
And even a half hour of just being. Of just letting a good book take me far away, or sitting with my family at dinner listening to them bitch, or here, in the dark talking to you fine people, is invaluable. (Literally had to just google invaluable to make sure it meant what I wanted it to mean. It does: you guys are priceless, google says I say so.) Back to the bailing, would appreciate larger spoons.
Showing posts with label Worth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Worth. Show all posts
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Friday, November 19, 2010
"Let the world know you as you are, not as you think you should be, because sooner or later, if you are posing, you will forget the pose, and then...
... where are you?" ~Fanny Brice
Day 22: Something you wish you hadn't done in your life
I don't know if it's just a local thing, but here in the Boston area, we have a store called Filene's, which gave birth to a bargain version of the store, Filene's Basement. (Or we used to - it's since gone into bankruptcy and they closed a ton of the stores.) I think most people (around here, anyways) know it best because of their annual Running of the Brides extravaganza, where hundreds of designer gowns are sold at deep discounts for one day only, causing local brides to sleep outside and stampede into the stores. Back when I was in high school, they also had a much less advertised, one day only sale on prom gowns, where every gown was $50-90. (Which, even 10+ years ago, was pretty cheap for a prom dress around here.)
The first year I was old enough to go to a prom was sophomore year, when we had a semi-formal. My mom had been searching the newspaper for the advertisement, finally saw that it was scheduled for the next Saturday, and woke up ridiculously early to drive me and my best friend Ann-Marie the 25 or so minutes away to our nearest store. There were a few mothers and daughters sitting in cars waiting, like us, but the line wasn't horrible, and there was no stampede. We both managed to find fabulous dresses in a relatively short amount of time, and then my mom took us out for breakfast.
Junior year, I never made it to the dress-buying stage, because I got really sick right before prom, and wasn't able to go. (Although I did have a date, with a boy who turned into a real prick when I told him I couldn't go, but whatever - I stayed home with pneumonia, watching a Star Wars (pre-prequel) marathon instead, and I see on Facebook that that boy has since had some "legal" troubles.)
By the time my Senior prom rolled around, I was determined to go: I had already missed out on a lot of "normal" high school experiences because of my illness, and I really was set on going. I was partially home tutored and so was absent from most of the social aspects of school, like lunches and clubs and such, and I saw the prom as really my last shot at being a normal teenager.
I was going to go by myself, like I'd done as a sophomore, but one of my girlfriends started talking to a mutual guy friend of ours and she decided that we would go together. Since I'd literally gone to school with him since Kindergarten, and he knew I wouldn't really be able to dance or anything, we were fine to go together as friends.
When the day of the sale came, I managed to find two dresses that I loved: a black and pink Audrey Hepburn-ish number, with a high collar and a ballgown's bottom and a sweetheart necked, all black dress with a little rhinestone bling right on the front. We wound up taking them both home, even though, at nearly $100, I knew I'd have to return one of them. I tried those two dresses on, almost daily, for weeks, trying to decide. They hung on the back of my door and I would try to picture myself at the prom, wearing one or the other of them, trying to figure out which I should keep.
The all black dress was great: I felt fancy and skinny and gorgeous in it.
But the pink and black? I loved it. I loved it because it was different, because it felt elegant and classy and classic. Because it was totally unlike anything I'd ever seen before, and definitely unlike anything I'd ever worn before.
You have to keep in mind that I barely ever worn anything other than sweats or jeans to school. I didn't wear make up or have the energy to do my hair for 45 minutes like all of the rest of the girls - the little umph that I had had to last me through the two required classes I had left to take, and then I would come home and collapse in bed. I was never fancy or fashionable, and it seemed to me - even now, but especially then - that in one of the many classes I was missing, they must have been teaching all those girls how to do their hair and makeup or how to put outfits and shoes and whatever together, because I never picked up those skills. Those are things that I am - to my younger sisters' dismay - horrible at. I wore what was easy, what was comfortable, and never understood fashion or how it was supposed to relate to me.
Before I got sick, I was pretty bad at it, but at least I tried. Afterwards? I was lucky to get to school at all, and if that meant I had to go in the same shirt I'd worn the day before, well then that's what it meant. (Thankfully, at my (all girls) college, this - or, even better, pajamas - would be the norm, rather than the exception, but I didn't know that then.)
So I kept trying the dresses on, kept marvelling at the fact that I was actually, kind of/sort of ... almost beautiful when I was dressed like this. I'd stopped feeling pretty when I'd stopped being able to dance. I hated my body and the way it wouldn't do what I wanted it to do, and I hated the 10-15 extra pounds I'd put on since I stopped being able to move freely. I just... was so unhappy. But then I actually thought I looked GOOD in those dresses, I actually thought I was pretty.
- And it hurts me that I am still so negative about my body, and that I hate it for all the things it can't do instead of loving it for what it does. It's better now then it was then, but God, 16 years later, you'd think I'd have made more progress on accepting that this is the way I am! -
But I also didn't have enough confidence in the way I felt to make the bolder choice - in the end, the pink and black dress went back to the store, because I didn't feel like a good judge of what would fit in with everybody else, and I absolutely did NOT want to stick out anymore than I already did ("You know, the girl who falls down a lot? She wore the oddest dress to the prom....") and so I went with the safe dress, the safe choice. And I looked fabulous in that dress, don't get me wrong - I was skinny and beautiful and elegant, and I had a great time with my friends, even though I did eat a box and a half of caffeine pills just to stay awake, and it was a fabulous night, that I don't regret at all.
But now, sometimes, when I have to decide something that I don't really feel all that confident about, I wonder: am I choosing the black dress, or the Audrey Hepburn dress? Am I passing on my (probably only) chance to feel like an elegant icon, because it might make me different, might make me stand out? As somebody who hates standing out, it's hard to choose the pink and black, hard to pick the thing that'll get me noticed.
But it might just be worth it, too.
And that's something I wish I had done then. And I hope I'd do it differently if I had the chance again.
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Day 01 Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Day 22: Something you wish you hadn't done in your life
I don't know if it's just a local thing, but here in the Boston area, we have a store called Filene's, which gave birth to a bargain version of the store, Filene's Basement. (Or we used to - it's since gone into bankruptcy and they closed a ton of the stores.) I think most people (around here, anyways) know it best because of their annual Running of the Brides extravaganza, where hundreds of designer gowns are sold at deep discounts for one day only, causing local brides to sleep outside and stampede into the stores. Back when I was in high school, they also had a much less advertised, one day only sale on prom gowns, where every gown was $50-90. (Which, even 10+ years ago, was pretty cheap for a prom dress around here.)
The first year I was old enough to go to a prom was sophomore year, when we had a semi-formal. My mom had been searching the newspaper for the advertisement, finally saw that it was scheduled for the next Saturday, and woke up ridiculously early to drive me and my best friend Ann-Marie the 25 or so minutes away to our nearest store. There were a few mothers and daughters sitting in cars waiting, like us, but the line wasn't horrible, and there was no stampede. We both managed to find fabulous dresses in a relatively short amount of time, and then my mom took us out for breakfast.
Junior year, I never made it to the dress-buying stage, because I got really sick right before prom, and wasn't able to go. (Although I did have a date, with a boy who turned into a real prick when I told him I couldn't go, but whatever - I stayed home with pneumonia, watching a Star Wars (pre-prequel) marathon instead, and I see on Facebook that that boy has since had some "legal" troubles.)
By the time my Senior prom rolled around, I was determined to go: I had already missed out on a lot of "normal" high school experiences because of my illness, and I really was set on going. I was partially home tutored and so was absent from most of the social aspects of school, like lunches and clubs and such, and I saw the prom as really my last shot at being a normal teenager.
I was going to go by myself, like I'd done as a sophomore, but one of my girlfriends started talking to a mutual guy friend of ours and she decided that we would go together. Since I'd literally gone to school with him since Kindergarten, and he knew I wouldn't really be able to dance or anything, we were fine to go together as friends.
When the day of the sale came, I managed to find two dresses that I loved: a black and pink Audrey Hepburn-ish number, with a high collar and a ballgown's bottom and a sweetheart necked, all black dress with a little rhinestone bling right on the front. We wound up taking them both home, even though, at nearly $100, I knew I'd have to return one of them. I tried those two dresses on, almost daily, for weeks, trying to decide. They hung on the back of my door and I would try to picture myself at the prom, wearing one or the other of them, trying to figure out which I should keep.
The all black dress was great: I felt fancy and skinny and gorgeous in it.
But the pink and black? I loved it. I loved it because it was different, because it felt elegant and classy and classic. Because it was totally unlike anything I'd ever seen before, and definitely unlike anything I'd ever worn before.
You have to keep in mind that I barely ever worn anything other than sweats or jeans to school. I didn't wear make up or have the energy to do my hair for 45 minutes like all of the rest of the girls - the little umph that I had had to last me through the two required classes I had left to take, and then I would come home and collapse in bed. I was never fancy or fashionable, and it seemed to me - even now, but especially then - that in one of the many classes I was missing, they must have been teaching all those girls how to do their hair and makeup or how to put outfits and shoes and whatever together, because I never picked up those skills. Those are things that I am - to my younger sisters' dismay - horrible at. I wore what was easy, what was comfortable, and never understood fashion or how it was supposed to relate to me.
Before I got sick, I was pretty bad at it, but at least I tried. Afterwards? I was lucky to get to school at all, and if that meant I had to go in the same shirt I'd worn the day before, well then that's what it meant. (Thankfully, at my (all girls) college, this - or, even better, pajamas - would be the norm, rather than the exception, but I didn't know that then.)
So I kept trying the dresses on, kept marvelling at the fact that I was actually, kind of/sort of ... almost beautiful when I was dressed like this. I'd stopped feeling pretty when I'd stopped being able to dance. I hated my body and the way it wouldn't do what I wanted it to do, and I hated the 10-15 extra pounds I'd put on since I stopped being able to move freely. I just... was so unhappy. But then I actually thought I looked GOOD in those dresses, I actually thought I was pretty.
- And it hurts me that I am still so negative about my body, and that I hate it for all the things it can't do instead of loving it for what it does. It's better now then it was then, but God, 16 years later, you'd think I'd have made more progress on accepting that this is the way I am! -
But I also didn't have enough confidence in the way I felt to make the bolder choice - in the end, the pink and black dress went back to the store, because I didn't feel like a good judge of what would fit in with everybody else, and I absolutely did NOT want to stick out anymore than I already did ("You know, the girl who falls down a lot? She wore the oddest dress to the prom....") and so I went with the safe dress, the safe choice. And I looked fabulous in that dress, don't get me wrong - I was skinny and beautiful and elegant, and I had a great time with my friends, even though I did eat a box and a half of caffeine pills just to stay awake, and it was a fabulous night, that I don't regret at all.
But now, sometimes, when I have to decide something that I don't really feel all that confident about, I wonder: am I choosing the black dress, or the Audrey Hepburn dress? Am I passing on my (probably only) chance to feel like an elegant icon, because it might make me different, might make me stand out? As somebody who hates standing out, it's hard to choose the pink and black, hard to pick the thing that'll get me noticed.
But it might just be worth it, too.
And that's something I wish I had done then. And I hope I'd do it differently if I had the chance again.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 01 Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Friday, November 05, 2010
"Parenthood is pain and sacrifice and...
the extinction of free time and the postponing of dreams and the scrabbling in the folds of the couch for spare change and sanity, peppered with flashes of pure joy."*
Day 05 : Something you hope to do in your life
This one is easy. Besides "get better" (however better might be defined, but preferably the words "miraculously" and "completely" should be involved), my major hope has always been to be a mom.
Seems like it shouldn't be the most outrageous hope in the world, but it is the one I'm most afraid might never come true. It's even less frightening to think I might never get better, because, at the very least, I've figured out how to get by being sick. I've never really figured out how to get over not yet being a mother.
I don't talk about it a lot here, because it's so hard to talk about, and because it's one of those topics I'm not capable of expounding on with any sense of clarity at all. It's all emotion, and it sits, like a huge lump in my throat. I'm afraid to utter even a peep about it, lest the entire lot come tumbling out in a torrent of tears and ramblings and little hiccups.
So I'll just say that that is something I hope to do in my life, and, should that hope prove impossible, I don't really know how I'll cope. (I will cope; I am just not really sure how I'll manage it.)
So negative: gah! Was I supposed to say "mountain climbing" or something? Because mountain climbing sounds like torture, and I don't know why anybody would want to do that.
Unless it's your hope, and then: more power to you!
*Kate, Sweet/Salty 9-10
Day 01 Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Day 05 : Something you hope to do in your life
This one is easy. Besides "get better" (however better might be defined, but preferably the words "miraculously" and "completely" should be involved), my major hope has always been to be a mom.
Seems like it shouldn't be the most outrageous hope in the world, but it is the one I'm most afraid might never come true. It's even less frightening to think I might never get better, because, at the very least, I've figured out how to get by being sick. I've never really figured out how to get over not yet being a mother.
I don't talk about it a lot here, because it's so hard to talk about, and because it's one of those topics I'm not capable of expounding on with any sense of clarity at all. It's all emotion, and it sits, like a huge lump in my throat. I'm afraid to utter even a peep about it, lest the entire lot come tumbling out in a torrent of tears and ramblings and little hiccups.
So I'll just say that that is something I hope to do in my life, and, should that hope prove impossible, I don't really know how I'll cope. (I will cope; I am just not really sure how I'll manage it.)
So negative: gah! Was I supposed to say "mountain climbing" or something? Because mountain climbing sounds like torture, and I don't know why anybody would want to do that.
Unless it's your hope, and then: more power to you!
*Kate, Sweet/Salty 9-10
Day 01 Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
"Monsters are real, ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."*
This is my third attempt at this post - Damn: this truthiness stuff is hard!
I need to forgive myself for not growing up to be the woman I'd hoped I'd be. In so many ways.
I need to forgive myself for that one time I chickened out - for all the times I chickened out, held back, let myself be silenced; because it could have made a difference.
I need to forgive myself for forgetting important things, because it would have meant something if I'd remembered.
I need to forgive myself for not being truthful when it mattered most, because I hurt myself and some good people along the way.
I need to forgive myself for postponing things I don't want to face, because it always bites me in the ass.
I need to forgive myself for not answering the phone that night, because I couldn't have known.
I need to forgive myself for the times I only live a half-life, because I want to be more, be better, than that.
Oi, I have a feeling the next twenty seven days are going to be a tad more difficult than I had thought.
*Stephen King
Day 01 Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
I need to forgive myself for not growing up to be the woman I'd hoped I'd be. In so many ways.
I need to forgive myself for that one time I chickened out - for all the times I chickened out, held back, let myself be silenced; because it could have made a difference.
I need to forgive myself for forgetting important things, because it would have meant something if I'd remembered.
I need to forgive myself for not being truthful when it mattered most, because I hurt myself and some good people along the way.
I need to forgive myself for postponing things I don't want to face, because it always bites me in the ass.
I need to forgive myself for not answering the phone that night, because I couldn't have known.
I need to forgive myself for the times I only live a half-life, because I want to be more, be better, than that.
Oi, I have a feeling the next twenty seven days are going to be a tad more difficult than I had thought.
*Stephen King
Day 01 Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself
Thursday, August 26, 2010
I be back
Hey everybody: I know it's been a little while, but have no fear, I have not (as Crazed Mom has worried about) been a part of the blog-apocalypse or anything like that. Nope, it's just regular, end of summer, everybody has their vacation at one time, trying to cram experiences into the last few weeks before school starts mayhem.
I told y'all we'd be having some visitors, and boy howdy*, did we have visitors. My sister and her boys came for about a week, and Lil Girl and her brother decided to stay with us most of that week too, because their cousins were here. Which is awesome and wonderful, and I'm so happy that they (mostly) get along because there is such a wide range of ages (8 months to 14 years), and that could be bad news, but (mostly) works for them. One of my most cherished memories of my childhood summers is the week in August that my Virginia cousins would visit... I can remember crying every time they left and almost holding my breath every summer till it was time for them to come back. I'm so glad that my niece and nephews can have the same kind of connection (and, since Sister S's boys only live in New Hampshire, get to have more than one visit a year).
But that's not to say that it didn't take a lot out of me, and really made me realize that I am still - three months post-op - definitely still in a recovery phase. I just didn't have (what passes for) my normal level of stamina or strength, and, by the middle of the week, I was getting lots of concerned questions from both Sister S and Oldest Nephew. They kept asking if I was mad, which is the question I tend to get asked a lot if the pain is showing up on my face. I had to keep reassuring them that I wasn't mad (because I wasn't), just really, really sore. Since I have had 15 years of practice in covering up how badly I am feeling (particularly around the kids), it has to be pretty horrible for that much to be leaking out. I also don't necessarily think it was bad for it to be showing - Sister S, and her oldest boy, to some extent - still don't really "get" the whole chronic illness thing, mostly because they only briefly lived with me while I was ill. They don't quite understand how bad it can get, because I mostly hide it when they are here, so as not to put a damper on the visit. Which is possible on a weekend visit, or a day trip, but for a whole week? Never gonna happen. Eventually it catches up with me, and in this case, it was definitely sooner rather than later.
While they were here, we managed to get most of the whole immediate family crew together (minus Sister K who went to Montana with her boyfriend) for a little trek to a local old timey amusement park. It's a place that holds a lot of memories for most of us, as Nana (5th grade teacher extraordinaire) used to take her classes there on a field trip every year. She and the other chaperones would bring beach chairs and park under a giant willow tree, while the kids ran across the parking lot to the arcade with the warnings of "Absolutely no one goes to the beach!" and "If you don't come when I blow this whistle, we leave without you and you can explain to your parents why you didn't make the bus" ringing in their ears.
This trip we all had a great time, we took lots of pictures, and I will talk about it some more in a later picture filled post. But it was a really special day.
Added to that, I got a visit from College Roommate/ Best Friend, and her two little girls, who I haven't seen since before Christmas, because of various illnesses (on my part) and busy social calendars (on hers). We had a very nice visit, and definitely won't go so long this time in between. And then one of those fore mentioned Virginia cousins - who now lives in Maine - came down with her mom, husband and little boy and we had lunch together at Grandmother's house, with her kids and the kids my heart says are part mine running around in the yard while we - the grownups!?! - watched from the porch. It was pretty awesome, although I still really, really don't feel like a grownup.
So that's where I've been: visiting with sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews and best friends and their kids and Virginia cousins that now live in Maine, and taking field trips down memory lane. As exhausting, punishing and painful as it has been physically, it was definitely worth it. Although I am still recuperating - from both the summer and the stupid surgery - I'm glad that we got a chance to get everybody together, and that so many people I've been missing managed to make their way to me this summer.
Plus, now I have a ton of photos to edit, and some of them I actually love, so it's bonuses all around.
*I have no idea where the Southern accent came from: I apologize for the "boy howdy."
I told y'all we'd be having some visitors, and boy howdy*, did we have visitors. My sister and her boys came for about a week, and Lil Girl and her brother decided to stay with us most of that week too, because their cousins were here. Which is awesome and wonderful, and I'm so happy that they (mostly) get along because there is such a wide range of ages (8 months to 14 years), and that could be bad news, but (mostly) works for them. One of my most cherished memories of my childhood summers is the week in August that my Virginia cousins would visit... I can remember crying every time they left and almost holding my breath every summer till it was time for them to come back. I'm so glad that my niece and nephews can have the same kind of connection (and, since Sister S's boys only live in New Hampshire, get to have more than one visit a year).
But that's not to say that it didn't take a lot out of me, and really made me realize that I am still - three months post-op - definitely still in a recovery phase. I just didn't have (what passes for) my normal level of stamina or strength, and, by the middle of the week, I was getting lots of concerned questions from both Sister S and Oldest Nephew. They kept asking if I was mad, which is the question I tend to get asked a lot if the pain is showing up on my face. I had to keep reassuring them that I wasn't mad (because I wasn't), just really, really sore. Since I have had 15 years of practice in covering up how badly I am feeling (particularly around the kids), it has to be pretty horrible for that much to be leaking out. I also don't necessarily think it was bad for it to be showing - Sister S, and her oldest boy, to some extent - still don't really "get" the whole chronic illness thing, mostly because they only briefly lived with me while I was ill. They don't quite understand how bad it can get, because I mostly hide it when they are here, so as not to put a damper on the visit. Which is possible on a weekend visit, or a day trip, but for a whole week? Never gonna happen. Eventually it catches up with me, and in this case, it was definitely sooner rather than later.
While they were here, we managed to get most of the whole immediate family crew together (minus Sister K who went to Montana with her boyfriend) for a little trek to a local old timey amusement park. It's a place that holds a lot of memories for most of us, as Nana (5th grade teacher extraordinaire) used to take her classes there on a field trip every year. She and the other chaperones would bring beach chairs and park under a giant willow tree, while the kids ran across the parking lot to the arcade with the warnings of "Absolutely no one goes to the beach!" and "If you don't come when I blow this whistle, we leave without you and you can explain to your parents why you didn't make the bus" ringing in their ears.
This trip we all had a great time, we took lots of pictures, and I will talk about it some more in a later picture filled post. But it was a really special day.
Added to that, I got a visit from College Roommate/ Best Friend, and her two little girls, who I haven't seen since before Christmas, because of various illnesses (on my part) and busy social calendars (on hers). We had a very nice visit, and definitely won't go so long this time in between. And then one of those fore mentioned Virginia cousins - who now lives in Maine - came down with her mom, husband and little boy and we had lunch together at Grandmother's house, with her kids and the kids my heart says are part mine running around in the yard while we - the grownups!?! - watched from the porch. It was pretty awesome, although I still really, really don't feel like a grownup.
So that's where I've been: visiting with sisters and brothers and nieces and nephews and best friends and their kids and Virginia cousins that now live in Maine, and taking field trips down memory lane. As exhausting, punishing and painful as it has been physically, it was definitely worth it. Although I am still recuperating - from both the summer and the stupid surgery - I'm glad that we got a chance to get everybody together, and that so many people I've been missing managed to make their way to me this summer.
Plus, now I have a ton of photos to edit, and some of them I actually love, so it's bonuses all around.
*I have no idea where the Southern accent came from: I apologize for the "boy howdy."
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Yesterday I went floating in a pool
you will think that this is no big deal, until I tell you that the last time I owned a bathing suit was 1997, when I went to Disney World with my friends after I graduated from high school. I still do not own a suit, and went floating in the pool wearing a skirt, my bra, underwear and a tank top. It did not matter, because it felt heavenly.
I never really learned how to swim: When my mom signed me up for lessons at the Y (at my insistence), I was ten years old, a slightly chubby brainiac that frequently still wore my hair in pigtails, played with School with her sisters and was completely useless without my glasses. Of course, the first thing they did was tell us to change, and to stow our personal gear - "This means glasses too!" - in the lockers. My best friend was also taking the class with me, and was kind enough to lead me out of the locker room and into the shallow end of the pool. To say that my vision without my glasses is hazy is a major understatement. I can see shapes - people sized blobs of mushed together colors, fuzzy colors with no defined edges. I could see my friend's face, if she was the one bobbing in the water next to me, but I couldn't have picked her out of the line of young bodies that floated around. We had our own secret game of Marco Polo going on, even before the lessons started.
And what an illuminating and educational lesson it was: A large man - the high school swim coach - came out of the locker room and sat in a lifeguard's chair. Then he threw a bunch of plastic rings into the pool and told us to go get them. "Dive if you want to, tiptoe over if you don't, but go down there and get them." End of lesson. I spent the entire time trying to see a darker blue blob at the bottom of the moving lighter blue blob, failing over and over again to retrieve my ring because A) it was at the bottom and I was at the top not knowing how to get to the bottom without drowning and B)the blob that I thought was a ring was in fact paint on the bottom of the pool, so I just wasted all my breath to get down there for nothing. For one hour every Friday for six weeks, my friend tried to drag me around to the location of a ring, I would claw my way down to get it, bob back up and then we'd hold on to the edge of the pool for dear life, waiting for the class to be over so we could go home. Between that and my uncle throwing me into a pond and telling me I'd pick it up once I was in the water, I figured I'd never be able to swim.
Eventually though, I put together the basics on my own - arms and legs both need to be moving, try rotating your head so you can breathe every now and then - but swimming will never be my forte.
But yesterday I waited until the sun went away and the shade covered the yard, after the kids had finished all of their major splashing and the adults had had their pool time as well. Then I slipped into the middle of my sister-in-law's pool, (to the shock of my brother in particular) laid on my back and floated. It was the most peaceful I've felt in a very long time, and I was reminded that I used to like the water (initial swimming experiences excluded). It's so quiet and calming, and honestly, my body feels so different in the water.
The weightlessness is part of it, sure: it's easier to move all the stiff and sore parts of me - they feel more connected to each other and less likely to rebel: It's almost as if I've got my dancer's body back - one that responds to the moves I want it to make automatically and with little protest. I'm still in pain, but it's just like someone turned it down a notch, and if I could've stayed in that water all day - every day - I would've.
I splashed around a little with Lil Girl (who is a fish), and floated as long as I could, but even though the pain had dimmed a bit, other issues were still making themselves known. I got a rash from either the chlorine or the sun, just one big patch of it on my thigh, who knows why (it's itchy as all get out today). And my pulse was hammering away the way it does when I try to stand up - being upright, even in water makes all the lovely blood pumping away slow down and my heart tries to speed it back up, and the ultimate conclusion to all that is that I pass out, which I really didn't want to do in the pool, so my peace was short lived. And the getting out reminded me of why it's been so long since I've been in a pool. Because all of that freedom and flowing stops as soon as I put my butt on the steps and try to scootch out... I'd rather live in the water forever than try to do that again.
Add in an unexpected breathing issue that popped up - Lil Girl kept making me go all the way under so she could show me her flips and wave and whatever. I forgot that I can't hold my breath very long anymore. (Hello: Asthma!) I had to use my inhaler twice yesterday, and today my lungs are wheezing and my chest feels like I got kicked by a mule. "Call the doctor" my mom suggested. "And say what," was my reply: "I held my breath too long and now I'm hurting?" Even I can't tell them that. It'll go away eventually, but it's another harsh reminder that everything I do has a price.
So it had it's drawbacks, but I'm not sure I wouldn't do it again. It was worth seeing Lil Girl with her goggles on and a mile wide smile. To float on my back and feel dainty and delicate and like nothing in the world could be heavy. To look up at the clouds and remember that the world is going to keep turning whether I'm participating or not. It was nice to participate, and since I have all week to recuperate, I'll deal with the consequences.
In the meantime, want to see a fish?
I never really learned how to swim: When my mom signed me up for lessons at the Y (at my insistence), I was ten years old, a slightly chubby brainiac that frequently still wore my hair in pigtails, played with School with her sisters and was completely useless without my glasses. Of course, the first thing they did was tell us to change, and to stow our personal gear - "This means glasses too!" - in the lockers. My best friend was also taking the class with me, and was kind enough to lead me out of the locker room and into the shallow end of the pool. To say that my vision without my glasses is hazy is a major understatement. I can see shapes - people sized blobs of mushed together colors, fuzzy colors with no defined edges. I could see my friend's face, if she was the one bobbing in the water next to me, but I couldn't have picked her out of the line of young bodies that floated around. We had our own secret game of Marco Polo going on, even before the lessons started.
And what an illuminating and educational lesson it was: A large man - the high school swim coach - came out of the locker room and sat in a lifeguard's chair. Then he threw a bunch of plastic rings into the pool and told us to go get them. "Dive if you want to, tiptoe over if you don't, but go down there and get them." End of lesson. I spent the entire time trying to see a darker blue blob at the bottom of the moving lighter blue blob, failing over and over again to retrieve my ring because A) it was at the bottom and I was at the top not knowing how to get to the bottom without drowning and B)the blob that I thought was a ring was in fact paint on the bottom of the pool, so I just wasted all my breath to get down there for nothing. For one hour every Friday for six weeks, my friend tried to drag me around to the location of a ring, I would claw my way down to get it, bob back up and then we'd hold on to the edge of the pool for dear life, waiting for the class to be over so we could go home. Between that and my uncle throwing me into a pond and telling me I'd pick it up once I was in the water, I figured I'd never be able to swim.
Eventually though, I put together the basics on my own - arms and legs both need to be moving, try rotating your head so you can breathe every now and then - but swimming will never be my forte.
But yesterday I waited until the sun went away and the shade covered the yard, after the kids had finished all of their major splashing and the adults had had their pool time as well. Then I slipped into the middle of my sister-in-law's pool, (to the shock of my brother in particular) laid on my back and floated. It was the most peaceful I've felt in a very long time, and I was reminded that I used to like the water (initial swimming experiences excluded). It's so quiet and calming, and honestly, my body feels so different in the water.
The weightlessness is part of it, sure: it's easier to move all the stiff and sore parts of me - they feel more connected to each other and less likely to rebel: It's almost as if I've got my dancer's body back - one that responds to the moves I want it to make automatically and with little protest. I'm still in pain, but it's just like someone turned it down a notch, and if I could've stayed in that water all day - every day - I would've.
I splashed around a little with Lil Girl (who is a fish), and floated as long as I could, but even though the pain had dimmed a bit, other issues were still making themselves known. I got a rash from either the chlorine or the sun, just one big patch of it on my thigh, who knows why (it's itchy as all get out today). And my pulse was hammering away the way it does when I try to stand up - being upright, even in water makes all the lovely blood pumping away slow down and my heart tries to speed it back up, and the ultimate conclusion to all that is that I pass out, which I really didn't want to do in the pool, so my peace was short lived. And the getting out reminded me of why it's been so long since I've been in a pool. Because all of that freedom and flowing stops as soon as I put my butt on the steps and try to scootch out... I'd rather live in the water forever than try to do that again.
Add in an unexpected breathing issue that popped up - Lil Girl kept making me go all the way under so she could show me her flips and wave and whatever. I forgot that I can't hold my breath very long anymore. (Hello: Asthma!) I had to use my inhaler twice yesterday, and today my lungs are wheezing and my chest feels like I got kicked by a mule. "Call the doctor" my mom suggested. "And say what," was my reply: "I held my breath too long and now I'm hurting?" Even I can't tell them that. It'll go away eventually, but it's another harsh reminder that everything I do has a price.
So it had it's drawbacks, but I'm not sure I wouldn't do it again. It was worth seeing Lil Girl with her goggles on and a mile wide smile. To float on my back and feel dainty and delicate and like nothing in the world could be heavy. To look up at the clouds and remember that the world is going to keep turning whether I'm participating or not. It was nice to participate, and since I have all week to recuperate, I'll deal with the consequences.
In the meantime, want to see a fish?
Sunday, January 03, 2010
"Feelings of worth can flourish only in an atmosphere where individual differences are appreciated, mistakes are tolerated, communication is open,
and rules are flexible -- the kind of atmosphere that is found in a nurturing family." - Virginia Satir
If you've been here for a while, then you know that I don't do New Year's Resolutions. I never really did, because I know how my brain works: I spend a lot of time coming up with resolutions, figuring out ways to accomplish them, figuring out ways to avoid accomplishing them, and then feeling guilty about breaking them. It's a vicious cycle that takes place approximately 742 times throughout the year, so I don't need an extra, mandatory date to create issues for myself.
Instead, taking a cue from Spoon Theory creator Christine Miserando, I pick one word that I try to focus on over the course of the year.
In 2008, the word was closer.
Last year, even though I didn't declare it here, the word I kept coming back to was breathe, especially since the year started off with us not knowing where we were going to be living, and then I spent 4.5 months in limbo at my Grandmother's house. Reminding myself - when I felt like I was accomplishing nothing, or that I was wasting time - that all that was absolutely required of me was breathing in and out, was a great help.
This year, I've put a lot of thought into a word that actually A) means something and B) will be easily applied (see cycle of resolutions above if you were wondering why it has to be simple). Some of the contenders were Truth, Choice, and Balance, all of which were good, but none of which seemed to be the perfect choice.
The word I came up with is Worth.
Looking at the definition of worth, I was pleased to see its roots are from Middle English, meaning to "become". Nowadays, it means the quality of something, the value of it. Something's equivalent. Something that is "good or important enough to justify" ie "advice worth taking; a place worth visiting". It can mean "excellence of character" or the esteem it deserves/garners, its "usefulness or importance". It's not just about monetary or material riches, but wealth of a different sort as well.
This year I'm going to focus on what things are worth, in a real and honest way. I'm going to think about what things are equal to, where excellence is actually found, and whether or not I'm truly valuing that excellence.
I need to be honest in ascribing worth - to things (Am I holding on to junk? Am I stockpiling things instead of valuing what I already have?); to people (Is it really worth another argument? Am I giving certain relationships their due or shortchanging them?); to time (What am I really spending time on vs what I want to spend time on. What is my time worth to me - and how can I show other people it's value?); to everyday actions (Is the taste of what I am eating worth the consequences for eating it? Is staying up all night typing the best way to be worth something in the morning? Since I know I won't take my pills regularly if I don't fill in those little days, isn't it worth it to fill in those little days even though I hate that job?); to the type of person I am trying to be (Am I trustworthy? Am I worth the effort it requires to be my friend? Am I sharing the true me with people who have proven worthy, or am I holding back?)... There are a million areas I need to look at in my life, a million places I could be putting what little energy I have to better use. So I'm going to try to be constantly asking myself... Is this worth it? What is this worth?
I think that living with chronic illnesses is all about asking this question - that there's so often a give and take, that there are so many reactions for every action. And, after a certain point, it gets overwhelming. It's scary, having to think every little thing through. It's frightening not knowing what the consequences for certain things will be. But that's not just living with a chronic illness, that's living. Period. So I have to stop being so passive about certain things, I have to start accepting the fact that the way I live - in the here and now, and the day to day - is my life, and I want to be doing as much of the choosing as I possibly can. So I need to start deciding what things are worth, what I am worth and how I can be more worthy.
It's funny, because I find that these keywords, or themes, or whatever you want to call them tend to stick with me. I still find myself asking "Does this bring me closer to my goals?" "Am I remembering to breathe?" has become almost a motto at this point. So I hope that focusing on the worth of my efforts & actions will become second nature to me by this time next year.
That seems as good a goal as any.
------------------------------------
Definitions for worth via Merriam Webster dictionary & Dictionary.com
If you've been here for a while, then you know that I don't do New Year's Resolutions. I never really did, because I know how my brain works: I spend a lot of time coming up with resolutions, figuring out ways to accomplish them, figuring out ways to avoid accomplishing them, and then feeling guilty about breaking them. It's a vicious cycle that takes place approximately 742 times throughout the year, so I don't need an extra, mandatory date to create issues for myself.
Instead, taking a cue from Spoon Theory creator Christine Miserando, I pick one word that I try to focus on over the course of the year.
In 2008, the word was closer.
Last year, even though I didn't declare it here, the word I kept coming back to was breathe, especially since the year started off with us not knowing where we were going to be living, and then I spent 4.5 months in limbo at my Grandmother's house. Reminding myself - when I felt like I was accomplishing nothing, or that I was wasting time - that all that was absolutely required of me was breathing in and out, was a great help.
This year, I've put a lot of thought into a word that actually A) means something and B) will be easily applied (see cycle of resolutions above if you were wondering why it has to be simple). Some of the contenders were Truth, Choice, and Balance, all of which were good, but none of which seemed to be the perfect choice.
The word I came up with is Worth.
Looking at the definition of worth, I was pleased to see its roots are from Middle English, meaning to "become". Nowadays, it means the quality of something, the value of it. Something's equivalent. Something that is "good or important enough to justify" ie "advice worth taking; a place worth visiting". It can mean "excellence of character" or the esteem it deserves/garners, its "usefulness or importance". It's not just about monetary or material riches, but wealth of a different sort as well.
This year I'm going to focus on what things are worth, in a real and honest way. I'm going to think about what things are equal to, where excellence is actually found, and whether or not I'm truly valuing that excellence.
I need to be honest in ascribing worth - to things (Am I holding on to junk? Am I stockpiling things instead of valuing what I already have?); to people (Is it really worth another argument? Am I giving certain relationships their due or shortchanging them?); to time (What am I really spending time on vs what I want to spend time on. What is my time worth to me - and how can I show other people it's value?); to everyday actions (Is the taste of what I am eating worth the consequences for eating it? Is staying up all night typing the best way to be worth something in the morning? Since I know I won't take my pills regularly if I don't fill in those little days, isn't it worth it to fill in those little days even though I hate that job?); to the type of person I am trying to be (Am I trustworthy? Am I worth the effort it requires to be my friend? Am I sharing the true me with people who have proven worthy, or am I holding back?)... There are a million areas I need to look at in my life, a million places I could be putting what little energy I have to better use. So I'm going to try to be constantly asking myself... Is this worth it? What is this worth?
I think that living with chronic illnesses is all about asking this question - that there's so often a give and take, that there are so many reactions for every action. And, after a certain point, it gets overwhelming. It's scary, having to think every little thing through. It's frightening not knowing what the consequences for certain things will be. But that's not just living with a chronic illness, that's living. Period. So I have to stop being so passive about certain things, I have to start accepting the fact that the way I live - in the here and now, and the day to day - is my life, and I want to be doing as much of the choosing as I possibly can. So I need to start deciding what things are worth, what I am worth and how I can be more worthy.
It's funny, because I find that these keywords, or themes, or whatever you want to call them tend to stick with me. I still find myself asking "Does this bring me closer to my goals?" "Am I remembering to breathe?" has become almost a motto at this point. So I hope that focusing on the worth of my efforts & actions will become second nature to me by this time next year.
That seems as good a goal as any.
------------------------------------
Definitions for worth via Merriam Webster dictionary & Dictionary.com
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