I'm a complainer. I've been in denial about this, but I can't pretend any longer. I'm a complainer, and I'm most likely comfortable when I'm complaining. I'm pretty sure I haven't always been such a complainer, but I won't dare announce that I have been a non-complainer in the past. Although I do remember days when I wasn't so quick to start whining. Those days are gone.
I have a lot to complain/whine about these days. I wish I could say that I rise above it and only think of pleasantly positive things, but I don't. If something seems difficult, I have to wonder if it's because of my depression, or if it's just because it's a hard thing to do. But either way, I'll complain about how hard it is. Often, since no one is around, I'll complain to myself. How sad. In my head I'm constantly complaining about the state of my house. I've never been freakishly neat (a trait I've adamantly avoided), but I'm pretty sure my home has never been so…..cluttered. I don't have enough energy, and when will the energy come back? I start projects, but then I can't finish them because I get bored. Except that's a ridiculous thing, because I have so many things I could do that I don't really have enough downtime to be bored. So I complain about having so much to do, even though I do very little to accomplish anything, and I feel ashamed about my complaints because I know other people have much busier lives than I have. I don't like feeling this way- disjointed and cognitively fuzzy.
My huge complaint these days is about how I feel. I'm miserable sometimes. Truly. Today I felt such despair so quickly that I once again was tempted by the big sleep. It's scary how tantalizing the idea of not having to deal with anything anymore can be. I know I'm supposed to call someone when I feel this way, but I'm often at a loss when the feeling hits; I don't want to call George because he gets anxious, and I don't want to bother Eara, because she has a lot on her plate, and I don't want to unload my burden on any friends. My parents would be the last people I would call when I feel this way….and the idea of talking is exhausting anyway. It makes it worse that I don't want to call anyone, though a small voice in my head keeps telling me that there are people in my life who would much rather I call than hurt myself. I isolate myself, and I'm not sure how to quit doing that. I need help, but I don't want to bother anyone to help me. It would be a lot easier if I could not be myself…maybe I could make some progress.
Since I didn’t call anyone, I decided to hang out on my bed. Alex wasn't entirely happy with that, as he wanted me to play blocks. (He says, "Play blocks? Okay, play blocks," as he pulls on one of my fingers AT LEAST TEN TIMES A DAY.) This time I didn't move or respond. We had a tough day, and there were times that I'm horrified to admit that I wanted to yank his little arms off so he would stop throwing things. I considered locking him in his room, but that seemed cruel and I'm pretty nervous about doing anything that could leave him with mental/emotional scars, understandably. Not to mention my fear that he would figure out how to climb his dresser and jump off of it (he did a lot of leaping off the couch this afternoon, much to my dismay. Is that gut-wrenching fear when it comes to his safety ever going to go away???). Our day was tough because he was tired but refused to nap (did I mention he was up at 4 am?). Couple that with my agitation, and it was torture. But we survived. At about 6:30 pm, he finally agreed to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich after turning his nose up at other foods I offered for dinner. What he really wanted was cake, but I refused to give him some of George's birthday cake (he's consumed enough sugar between Easter and today that he could go without sugar for the rest of the year), so he threw a five-minute tantrum. Eventually, he calmed down and became agreeable. Then we read some books, and by 7:30 he was snoring away. He's so sweet when he's sleeping. And he was adorable as he brought me book after book about trains and when we talked about circles and he pointed out that his drawer knobs are circles. We even counted them, though he kept insisting nine came after three and had to count to ten even though there were only six knobs. I'd planned to give him a bath tonight, but there was no way it would've gone well. He likes to throw water out of the tub….and that might have sent me over the edge of the edge I'd gone over earlier in the day. I'm a horrible mother because my son went to bed with horrendously dirty feet from running around all day barefoot. And I'm also a horrible mother because he doesn't bathe every day. Doesn't that count as neglect?
My complaints and general negativity have taken their toll on George. He's never been one to focus on the positive, so now that I'm not my idealistic, optimistic self, things are pretty dreary. Instead of being grateful that he doesn't tell me to go away and come back when I've gotten my act together, I rant and rave and make him listen to my complaints about how little he does around the house and how he must not love me because he doesn't gush about how much he loves me. He rarely yells at me, and even when he does, he is good about having issues with my actions, rather than with me. I don't mean to paint him as an angel, because he has major issues with expressing himself and his emotions, but the fact is that George really is trying. He tries to do everything I ask. I've been a witch (replace w with b). He's still nice to me, even though I'm probably laying the foundation for a stress-induced stroke. Someday I will make this up to him. I just am too exhausted to figure it out right now. In the meantime, I have realized that I was holding him to unfairly and unrealistically high expectations. I'm humbled now by the fact that I have to see him for who he really is and what he really does and not keep yearning for everything I want exactly as I want it whenever I want it.
George and I went to a parent/teacher conference at Alex's school on Monday. Apparently, Alex is wonderful except for his constant need to run around the room (can anyone say ADHD?? But I'm joking about that….kind of). He is even exhibiting leadership and social skills, since he can get all of the boys in his class running around the room with him. I can't help but be proud of my little ring-leader. It is really nice to hear someone else say that my child is delightful and funny. I can totally understand why some parents dread conferences now- because they haven't had a teacher point out their child's wonderful qualities. If I ever find myself on the opposite end of the table again, I'm totally going to emphasize the terrific things about my students, no matter how devious or lazy they can be, if only because I think that compliments about our children stroke our egos and make us realize that there must be something right about us if it has come out in our children. Or something like that. When I consider that who I am is reflected through Alex, I can't help but cry because I'm so grateful that the happiness and the impulsive hugs and kisses and the singing and the creativity are there. There must be happiness somewhere within me, but I've lost it now. Oh, how I wish it wasn't so hard to find it again. I have a feeling that if I hang out with Alex enough (on days when he's not gotten up at an unusual hour AND has had a proper nap, of course), it'll come back.
2 comments:
Know that where you are now is exactly where you need to be.
Women all have an inner critic that is constantly reminding us that we're not pretty enough, sexy enough, clean enough, tough enough...I know you're very familiar with her.
You're well aware of what's she's saying but now it's time to tell that biotch to SIT DOWN AND SHUT-UP!
You know how great you are! You can see it reflected in your son, your husband, your achievements, the people that love you, the children you have educated.
The big sleep may seem tempting indeed but remember life is not about you...it's about others, it's about the connection we all have to each other. It's time to reach out and touch somebody Darna.
It's your inner critic, the inner bitch that isolates you...misery wants her company so she'll make up excuses to keep you down in her pit when all you really need to do is reach up and grab someone's hand who can help pull you out.
We're all part of the same whole, and when one part is weak, another part can give it strength. You are social by nature; by isolating yourself you're only weakening your spirit. Think of all the good times you've shared....how many of those were spent all alone?
You're not a complainer...you're a conqueror, an achiever, you are resourceful and efficient, and smart as hell.
When you hear that inner voice putting you down, tell her "Piss off bitch! I was valedictorian....you betta recognize!"
Often our own worst enemy is ourself....well guess what, that's NOT your only option. You can be your own best friend as well. When you start feeling that enemy creeping in, start thinking about all your awesome accomplishments
There's two sides to everything....rich/poor....happy/sad.....empty/full....where one's possible so is the other. Sure you can acknowledge what the complainer is pointing out...but you can still choose to accept and believe in the opposite.
Now, it's time to flip this bitch. You are fortunate and blessed; there are millions of things in your life right now that you are grateful for....ESPECIALLY for your Fabulously Exciting, Healthy, Happy, Joy Filled future!
Keep the Faith, and call me....I got unlimited minutes yo!
~Nicole
Oooooohhhh, dig this Darna!
Albert Einstein said it best:
"Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he sometimes thinks he senses it. But without deeper reflections one knows from daily life that one exists for other people - first of all for those upon whose smiles and well-being our own happiness is wholly dependent, and then for many, unknow to us, to whose destinies we are bound by the ties of sympathy."
Bam! Now ain't that the biz!
Keep the faith!
~Nicole
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