tired

I wonder sometimes about how everything will turn out. To skim the surface for so long when you have so many hopes and dreams cannot make for a very promising future. I work so hard only to barely make it. And what I'm finding out is that somehow people think I'm doing so great considering my circumstances. I don't feel so great. I feel like I won't ever be able to get out of this place I'm in. I go to counseling, and everything doesn't seem so bad, but then I have days like today when I just want someone to be by my side helping me. I'm tired of being strong all by myself, having to make all the difficult decisions alone. My heart has too many holes left gaping. I'm tired of waiting for nothing to happen, never able to take care of myself. I recognize that I am surrounded by blessings. Without them, I could not go on. Yet on days like today, I can hardly put one foot in front of the other. There aren't enough shoulders to cry on. There are not enough words to quell the flood of emotions. And only tears come. 

keeping it real

To say that I haven't felt like writing would be a lie. However, I can admit to not being able to put my thoughts onto the page as per usual. Ideas, feelings, random thoughts come visit for awhile, and then they fade out into nothingness as I let the wisps fly away instead of tying them down and spinning my yarn to make something more out of it all. It is hard to say how or when I will find my way out of this. I wonder if I ever will. It doesn't seem possible, no matter what anybody says.

Right now, I have so many things I want to tell you, but I can't seem to be able to invest enough heart to put it out there. Excavating my thoughts on emotional terrorism drained me of all I had left to give in any smart way.

I don't even want to tell you how long it took for me to get this much written down, because I am ashamed of how I've allowed myself to let go of my happy place, where I am free. I don't feel free to say or do as I choose. I know that I am; I just don't feel it.


 

Pickled Ice Cream

There are days when I think I am doing so well. Then, disillusionment hits, and there are days when I feel how terribly awkward and ridiculous I am in the eyes of some people. My ex, for example, said that people don't actually like me; that I am irritating, but no one wants to tell me to my face so they just put up with me; that I talk too much. And today, I am keenly aware of how he is right in many ways. Not entirely, but to a degree. I am just a different sort of person and not everyone gets along with this variety of different, I guess.

I ask myself what I could do differently, but I can't see what I could change without going against my core. I need to stop being such a freakin' jerk though. That's one thing that might help. I keep on trying to stop and I keep on reacting badly to my world.

I feel so stupid that I could crawl under a rock.

Venting

I'm feeling really mixed up, distracted, and wishing I could run away on a trip for a month. I'd take my kids with me, so I don't feel guilty at all. I just want to go somewhere with maid service, free breakfast, and a pool. That is not too much to ask, is it?

And in further news, my e-book manuscript is nearly ready to submit. I question how much I actually have to offer the world, now that I am going to put my stuff out there to be read on Kindles, iPads, and other e-reader devices. Even writing this right now makes me question whether or not I'm kidding myself into thinking anyone gives a crap about what I have to say.

There is so much going on right now, both blessings and cursings. I hope I haven't ruined your mood with my negativity.

I want...

I don't know what to say without sounding like a pitiful mess, and I'm tired of my negative voice--written or spoken. I just want to be able to move on with life. I want to make plans and have them stick. I want my broken record of an existence to finally play a different song. I want to hear music within the lines of my life, without straining to hear. I want the hurt to end. Even if it's to experience new pain, at least it would be different hurt. I just want to feel happy without having to constantly ignore the elephant in the room of my heart. I want to know where the struggle leads. I want to feel more joy than sorrow.

Anne of Green Gables and me

"But if you call me Anne,
please call me Anne with an 'e'."  Anne of Green Gables

I saw the Anne of Green Gables movies first and fell in love instantly; I fell in love with Anne's silly romanticism and finicky ways; I fell in love with everything about Gilbert Blythe; but most of all, I fell in love with the idea that somehow everything turns out as it should in the end. The books by L.M. Montgomery didn't find their way into my hands until around ten years ago, but I promise that I relished the entire series' contents in record time to make up for the severe mistake of not reading them sooner. And they are divine. I never had been brought so much into a series that I wished so hard a character were real so I could meet them.

Today, I watched the Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlea movies with my children. Halfway through the day, it just seemed like an Anne sort of day, so we stopped everything after borrowing the movies from a neighbor and just enjoyed the show until they were done.

I am super emotional now. It was probably to be expected, but I didn't expect it. The music, humor, and portrayal of so much beauty impressed upon my heart the intended gladness, but I was also left with a melancholy heart. It is difficult to watch happy endings some days. I knew this happy ending would come, yet it had been so long that I forgot some of the beautifully challenging situations that get sorted out by the end of it all. Remembrance of all the loves I've ever known ending pushed me to ponder on the big question: Will I ever find someone who will love me forever and not stop?

"I'm just tired of everything…even of the echoes. There is nothing in my life but echoes…echoes of lost hopes and dreams and joys. They're beautiful and mocking." Anne of Avonlea

Please don't misunderstand. I know it's just stories, but I'd forgotten about the realism which abides in Anne's tale. Anne and Gilbert are not "love at first sight" love birds--even quite the opposite for a long while. They become bosom friends eventually, but quarrel to the brink of severing ties on many occasions. Anne entertains a false sense of romanticism, while Gilbert shows what love really looks like, and then she finally connects it all together and realizes love's face in him. Silliness, unrealistic situations, and movie sentimentality are present, yes, but the magic within the story lies in our ability to connect with the realistic parts, or, better yet, the parts which are most like the best versions of our reality. And I keenly felt how much of the reality of it is missing for me. I have an even more complicated past that I wish wasn't there to face when occasion insists.

"I have a dream...I persist in dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true. I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it...the footsteps of friends -- and YOU!" Anne of the Island

This is all really a fancy looking tantrum or pity party. I'm writing because I can't see how, who, or when I will ever find a bosom friend who will love and accept me for my regular, everyday, imperfect self. I no longer identify with Anne. And that is sad to me. I grew up identifying with her outlook on life, but can no longer imagine myself in her shoes, in any aspect.

"That's the worst…or the best…of real life, Anne. It won't let you be miserable. It keeps on trying to make you comfortable…and succeeding…even when you're determined to be unhappy and romantic." Anne of Avonlea

A Day in the Life...

...of a whacktastic little freak named Laura

Today near killed me, so I feel this irritating yet compelling urge to give you all a rundown. Honestly, I think this urge spawns from not having anyone to talk with about it at length, but that's what blogs are for, right? So here goes it...

First off, my day started out like junk because my night before went like junk. I received an email from a friend that needed a response and it was all over from there. My mind got all wired up with worrying that I had lost a friend due to misunderstanding and my hyperactive, overly talkative, romantically inclined, bold and beautiful self. Plus on top of over-thinking the whole thing, I had homework too. There's nothing quite like reading a chapter of textbook after crying your eyes out. You really must try it. It helps with realizing how fabulous it is to not cry right before reading. Another thing that happened midst the emailing, crying, reading, and thinking is how I got a writing bug and did slash and burn editing on a joint writing project I am working on. Boy, was that an exercise is masochism. Reading through the stories I'd written made me cry more and then I had written a couple of brazenly bold short stories which I felt might have caused this friend to be shied away so I slashed away at those (I saved them in a different document, but they are no longer part of the joint project). I just cannot stand the thought of alienating another person from my life. I DETEST BEING SPICY PICKLED STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM!!! (see Uniquely Amazing)

So anyways. This background sets the stage for my whacklicious day.

I laid down for two and a half hours. Mind you, I say laid down because if I had said slept, I would be lying. The entire nighttime nap was packed with thoughts, dreams, and dejectedness. Needless to say, my alarm clock was in harm's way when it rang out so cheerfully at 5:30 in the morning. And yes, you heard that right-- 5:30. A. M.

My kids' rooms look like tornadoes hit them, but then half the house does too. My first grader still doesn't have his shoes on when I have to leave to get to my school. Don't kids know how vital shoes are?!

I get to school with not enough time and so I am walking as fast as my stubby legs will carry me, but it just isn't good enough. (My university cares about our heart health so there are innumerable stairs to assist students with this goal of theirs.) I am ten minutes late to class. Not too big of a deal, excepting there are no chairs left for me to sit in. I default to the floor along the back wall (this happened on Monday as well), yet quickly realize I need to be researching something and so I have to head to the computer lab since I didn't have my laptop with me. This is too much for my insomniac self. I walk into the hall and a couple tears roll down my cheeks in the hope they can wash away feelings of inadequacy and ridiculousness. No such luck there.

But it certainly gets better. Much better.

The next class is Indoor Cycling AKA Spin Class. Let's just say ouch right now, and to help you visualize it all I will say this--this woman's legs were not made for standing up for like five minutes straight while riding on a bicycle. There was a massive ATP failure, to say the least.

I have a locker and towel service now. And the locker room is also where I happened to leave my purse which I had not missed one whit until after near-killing my legs to death on a bike. Did I tell you how the locker room is kitty corner from  Spin in a large building? Just remember this for in a minute.

Back to that ATP failure. I believe my legs were worse than jello legs after a tough weight training session once I got off that bike. I had to focus all my energy just on walking and not allowing my legs to collapse. How does that equate with getting fit? I can't see it and that long hall down to the locker room might as well have been 100 miles.

Oh yeah. To top off the exercise class excitement, I had the pleasure of taking a horrifically cold shower (I couldn't figure out the hot water.) and forgetting to bring shoes to go with my slip on dress I brought for afterwards. This forced me to wear my athletic shoes with a dress! I don't know what your perspective is on the topic, but I believe that skirts and dresses and athletic shoes should never mix. EVER. I was breaking one of my hard and fast rules for being fabulous and, trust, it pained me severely.

My little niece and nephew are visiting for the week and so I pile all the children in my vehicle so we can pick up [C] from his bus stop and head out to the little monkey's dental appointment. But then guess what happens? [C] misses the bus. again. (It happened yesterday too).

Some good stuff that happened was when Mr. [C] Middleschooler received his Life Scout rank in the evening.; my children were all with me after school; I had a very engaging lecture today in the class I was late for; the Spin class instructor played Viva la vida by Coldplay which put a smile on my face and then it played again randomly on the radio as I was driving home. Torture me now. It was great.

And my friend still wants to be my friend.

Maybe I'm only a smidge whacktastic...maybe.

Anticipation

Do you ever get so full of anticipation that when you finally get what you were anticipating you actually mess things up?

Well, even if you don't, I do. It is as if my nature forces me into anti-climactic situations just to keep life brutally real. I am at a loss for competent words it hurts so much. I wanted everything to be beautiful and lovely and full of peace, but no--there was crying, complaining, and, the most stabbing of all, indifference. I do not know how much longer I can keep going like this. I no longer wonder about how some people just give up and run away. My mother's heart is now also quite wounded, but not beyond healing ability. I try to focus on the fact that I have been true to them and keep on praying that time will teach us how to deal with the difficult situations more positively.

I don't think I want to lose hope although I am sorely tempted to do so today. The battle is waging onward and I am hardly able to keep up...hardly able to breathe...

Ownership

When I consider all the things I am powerless over in life, it gets disheartening beyond my ability to cope. I look at the path I am on and I want to run away from it all. I want to scream. How does one get to these sorts of hellish crossroads? It all comes on so smoothly that it would not appear to have been such a craggly, painfully jagged journey--one that has burned a hole in my tenderest of feelings and made ill use of the best I have to give. The loveliness of the finest moments had always been tainted by association, yet somehow I never realized how I had been working so tirelessly to look past the bad and see life with my rose-colored glasses. The effort is what exhausted me in the first place; the glasses shattered from overuse. To be more accurate, my hopefulness (which is somehow part of me and I cannot get rid of it) has been used up in this one area. I keep catching myself entertaining sparks of hope for other areas of life, even for other people, but there is not even a fraction of an ember left for this. The bridge has been burned. Ten times over, it has been burned. Almost daily, fuel gets force fed to the long dead flame and it is smothering everything and nothing that could never ever in a million lifetimes entice me to hope again. It is negativity on top of negativity, making so little sense that it just has to be left alone to deal with itself. It is sheer madness to give it any thought whatsoever. I am weary of allowing my heart to go on so disheartened. Recognizing that I have power to choose the direction I take at every turn, this crossroads was part of those choices; therefore, I shall choose again. I shall cut out the cankerous wounds and allow the healing balm of faith, hope, and charity to do their work. I refuse to run away. I might do a bit of yelling from time to time (yet only with very close friends). And I shall own this crossroads. Gladly.

DEATH BY HOMEWORK

Ok. I didn't really die, but it came close. At one desperate point, my entire body was being upheld by my forehead resting on a whiteboard. And yes, that is a true story. Embarrassing, dramatic, ridiculous, and very true.

In authentic pre-service teacher fashion, I reflected upon how I could get to such a low point and I came up with a description of myself that helped me come to an understanding of why I might be experiencing a tinge of insanity:

I am a mother of four children--one of which has autism and epilepsy; and another one of which has ADHD to beat the band and plays tuba in the band (need I say more?); and another one of which is akin to yelling every. single. time. things don't go her way (can we say mini-me?); and the last of the another ones of which won't/can't stop having accidents that cause decidedly wet, smelly laundry; and all of which have this thing for playing games together that somehow cause this magical thing to happen where confetti-sized paper, trash, and toys fall off their bodies leaving behind great heaping piles that take two hours for an adult to clean up--who goes to school part-time, who is getting divorced, who used to be an overachiever until life broke her down, who cares too much sometimes about what people think, who doesn't fit in anywhere anymore at anytime no matter what and feels all of this quite keenly. So yeah. And did I mention I have to go in public to grocery shop and stuff?

I also reflected on how I coped with getting through the past few weeks of the semester that may or may not have been very healthy. Instead of working really hard to eat good, healthy brain food, I embraced my inner food addict and bought the trashiest junk food known to woman for my work sessions. I twisted healthy stuff into a binge fest. I have had toxic amounts of Peeps, Whoppers, grape Red Vines, Raisin Bran with a ton of sugar on top, doughnuts, Swedish meatballs, pierogies, Zingers, and those lovely purple Snoballs (as pictured above).  I wish I would have done better, but I am not in a good place right now and I figured I needed to work with the skills I've got to get things done. And I finally got all the papers and projects done. Hallelujah! I really thought it wouldn't be possible, but after much prayer, pondering, and working as hard as humanly possible, it all worked out-- despite my horrendous brain food famine. 

And so the moral of the story is:

Work as hard as you can. Give it all you've got. Then, turn the rest over to the Lord and He will make up the difference.

I know--I am His poster child.

I can't think of a title so this is what you get

Yesterday, I realized what the Slice of Life Story Challenge did for me in March. It got me to think outside of myself and not allow silence to creep in. I might have written about some of my hard things, but at least I was writing instead of feeling like I do now.

I posted on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday on the leftover steam from it, I think. But the steam ran out, and now-- you have the wanting/needing-to-be-silent person we were dealing with in February. It could have something to do with the school workload that I can hardly bear, yet it probably has most to do with my emotional and mental state. Let's face it. If I were doing better, I would be able to handle my stupid homework and not feel as if I were going to have an anxiety attack over doing the stuff. No one ever died just from doing their homework. 

I keep having these feelings like I am being lazy; I need to get over things and move on; Stop making excuses; You are a better student than this; Maybe you won't ever graduate; Maybe you shouldn't because you won't learn enough in this state to do a good job anyway; If I don't become a teacher, what will I do to take care of myself?; He is such a jerk for stopping wanting to taking care of me; I can't stand my life. 

And yes, I totally shared what goes through my mind at some point almost daily.

Not wanting to be completely negative, although I have no vision for how to spin this into a positive life lesson learned thing, I must share with you how blessed I have been amidst all this garbahge.

There have been a few family members who have gone out of their way to be present in my life with understanding and kindness. I have an aunt and two sisters-in-law who seem to have time when I need it and just the right words that I need to hear when I am struggling. The hand of friendship has been a major blessing to me in these difficult days lately. My BFF is amazing (and her husband) for being a listening ear, a support, and strength for me. I try hard not to turn her into a crutch, or more like my wheelchair, but some days I think I could really lose it if I didn't have her to talk to. Also, I have a neighbor who has become a very dear friend. She and I do so much together. She helps me with my children so I can attend school and go to appointments. We do fun things with the children and exercise together. She doesn't look at me like I'm nuts when I deserve a look or two.

Then, I have so many friends of the moment I can hardly count them all. It amazes me how much love I actually have received during this romantic love famine. Random acts of pure love and charity keep raining down on me, washing away the hurt and sadness for a little while, showing me people care whether or not I am happy and have all that I really need.

I think my big problem (and possibly everyone's problem when having bad days) is I keep getting on a kick where I don't remember the good things. I only look at the deluge of stupid stuff and turn a blind eye to the healing love that is shown me almost daily as well.  One of my friends said to make a list of all the tender mercies God grants me and put it somewhere I can see it every day. I have yet to do that. I am going to start working on it today and share it with all of you.

For accountability purposes--if you don't see a list soon, leave random reminder comments on random posts until I do. Maybe I will get it together knowing it is expected soon.

Eleanor Roosevelt and My Inferiority Complex

No one can make you feel inferior

without your consent

Eleanor Roosevelt

When considering others...

The truth of the matter is that Eleanor is right, but sometimes you don't realize you were being made to feel inferior until looking back with hindsight. I probably need to think more critically whenever I don't have my normal sense of confidence. That might be a little tip-off that I am giving permission to someone inadvertently.

Another angle on inferiority complexes...

This moment in time is pushing me to my limits of confidence (or lack thereof). I hardly know what to do with myself, having barely a shred of confidence that doesn't fizzle out within the hour of feeling the spark.

For instance, I can't comprehend instructions in my classes--Spanish AND English classes. Just yesterday I had to turn in an assignment, but I did it 100% wrong because I read the instructions with absolutely no regard to the ENGLISH words actually on the page. I assumed a lot and, in my anxious state, had misunderstood my teacher's verbal directions about the assignment. I tried so hard to do a good enough job even though I truly did not know what was expected of me. If my teacher had not been so kind when I explained my mistake, I think I might have left and never returned with how ridiculous I feel right now.

I wish I could fast forward to the point when I am not acting like a freak show and can actually be the effective, intelligent woman I have known and loved and am accustomed to putting my confidence in. Whether or not I should, I realize how I am consenting to make myself feel inferior. Now what the heck do I do with that?! I already feel dejected and alone. I get away from people who try to make me feel inferior, but what to do with myself, right?

The only things I can think to do are pray and keep on keeping on (for lack of a better term) no matter how badly I fail or how stupid I might feel while doing so...

not even one more wash

The past week has taken its toll and I don't have much sparkle left in me. It might sound a little bit silly, but sparkle, spunk, and that certain something about overachieverness keep me going. And the fire is dying. At least just for today, I hope. I want to feel like a castle with fireworks happening overhead, even though I feel more like a sixty-one inch piece of fabric with rapidly fraying ends and it might all unravel with one more wash. Even if it's on delicate cycle...

Why Did I Watch That Movie?!

I just finished watching the worst movie I have seen in a long time.

I really try to be choosy with what I watch, so I don't have to say stuff like I just said very often. Like, I can't even remember when was the last time I made that statement. Well, until just three sentences ago.  And now you can probably get a feel for how CRAZY. STUPID. Crazy Stupid Love turned out.

I Could Go On and On and On

The beginning of winter days have been running into each other and I can hardly keep any one of them straight. Straight out of my nice warm bed, racing to get everyone out of the house--on time--to school. School is nearing semester's end and I do not know if I have learned enough of what I should. Should I be worried? Worried and tired, I want more than anything to sleep after the long, tiresome, tiring, full of learning day. Day arrives again with the rising of the sun and I have been helping with a sick relative, while keeping up with all the demands of a growing, changing family. Family is the reason I keep on going. Going and going and going...

How Facebook is Changing Our World

I am one of those individuals who resisted Facebook--up until nearly a year ago. And I can honestly say I enjoy the connections and newly renewed friendships. It does have it's problems though, doesn't it?

One keen observation I have been pondering is how people can only LIKE people to their FACE and the feature for blocking posts of a particular FRIEND enables and fosters passive-aggressive behaviors. I know it is a lot stickier than that, but that also proves how powerful Facebook has become in our social circles.

pitiful news

I finally got a grade for my blessed online Isaiah course and I received a D. I have never done so poorly in formal education since high school, nearly 20 years ago and let's say it -- another lifetime ago. I never thought I could ever sink so far beneath my potential. I am bright. I do NOT say that to brag, but what I mean is that learning is enjoyable to me because it isn't some hugeamongous challenge and hard things for many people are not so much that for me.
If you haven't been able to tell by now, I have been under serious emotional strain and just haven't quite figured out how to balance life through all of it. I feel like a serious jerk. I have the opportunity to attend school because of scholarships I receive and this will mar my chances for next school year quite significantly. I wish I could say I deserved a better grade, but I can't. I truly feel blessed I did not FAIL the course actually. I think there would have to be a moment (possibly a week) of silence for me to mourn the situation if that would have occurred. seriously.
sorry to be such a bore and rag and throw my pity party out there for you to suffer through, but I figure it is better to suffer with friends than all alone.

The Opposite of Happy

The past 24-48 hours have been jam-packed with enormous mental and emotional stress and I am succumbing to feelings of desperation over finishing my summer term class in time and with a decent, non-failing grade (I just got my 2nd F on a test today) and frustration over my lack of wisdom when interacting with others in abrasive situations. I did not want to, but allowed myself to cry for a bit and started writing this in an attempt to not start it up again.

Happy to Put It Down

Not to get on some rampage over women's issues and stuff, but dude! Why are supposed women's magazines over the top sexualizing women? To answer my own question--men and sell out women probably run the joint.

I was at the pediatrician's office the other day and picked up some random magazine (I forgot to bring my textbook I should be reading), I think it was In Style, and holy cow! I would have thought it was directed at a male audience. Roughly 75% of the ads and articles displayed or explained how to be the epitome of sensuality. From my days as an avid pop culture mag reader, I could have swore Cosmo was set aside for that job.

a bit of small talk

A friend comes up and says: Hi, how are you? What have you been up to lately?
I say: Fine, great, or could be better (depends on what happened during the last 12 hours). I talk about school, my writing, my children.
Super common conversation, right? 

This is what I would reply if I could:

I have been trying to find my wings and words and my happy self and don't quite know how to go about it. Do you know where they went off to?

There is so much to say everyday and things just get too complicated. Not everyone can, should, or wants to deal with it when life has baggage too heavy to haul around by yourself. I am feeling like I am unclaimed baggage and there is no rightful owner.

I know it is an insanely random rambling, but I needed to just get it all out...