You know…this is why three hours of sleep doesn’t bother me. Who can stay asleep with 2 pots of coffee, 2 Red Bulls and a 24 hour Claritan D in their system? Now…on top of all this really bad crap I dump in me, you have to understand that I also drink a drink that I make three times a day, it consists of whatever fruits i have around, some form of fruit juice and a spoon full of green powder. Yup, green powder. And honestly, this stuff rocks. It’s great. I also eat abnormal amounts of carrots, celery, sprouts, peppers…pick a veggie and if it’s in my house, I’m snacking on it. I’m just about to quit the coffee. It’s actually not even tasting all that good lately so I really should take advantage of that and just drop it. The Red Bull…I’m keeping it thanks. And my green stuff is staying. I also go buy drinks from the store like Green Goodness and Odwalla Farms Superfood. My kids even love them. Hubby won’t touch them cause he says they are too sweet (but I’m sure the fact that they are green has something to do with it).Ok, Solaris mentioned that she was interested in hearing what brought on last post. I’m not sure I have a satisfactory answer really. I think that in the course of treating this blog as my therapist…I’ve resorted to doing some things on here out of sheer desperation.
I don’t blame anyone for how I turned out. But I don’t have a lot of respect for my father, his parenting skills were non-existent and he is now getting from us what he gave us as children. Nothing. I’ve had my say with him, I’ve actually had my say with his voice mail a few years ago - because, in his true nature, he wouldn’t allow me to speak to him about things that matter. So I told off his voice mail. Hey, it worked. I got it out. I’m sure in the 2.4 seconds it took for him to either hang up or hit “delete” he got the point that I was very very very pissed at him. He might have sired me, but I don’t have to like him or respect him. He’s a sperm donor, plain and simple. I’m able to be cordial when he calls me now, which only started happening after his mother died. I am polite, I nod, smile, relay small tidbits of news he’s not really hearing because he just doesn’t care and then it’s ‘goodbye’. We speak every 3 or 4 months because I don’t see any benefit from fighting with him or hanging up on him.
Ok, so my dad emotionally scarred us for life…or at least for a good chunk of time. Well, me anyway, my brother is going to be paying the price for life. He’ll be selfish, lonely, and a bad father until he either gets therapy or has a revelation. I hope he gets one or the other soon. I’m not counting on it though. As long as he thinks like my father and grandfather (who taught my dad his incredibly parenting skills and who my brother idolizes) then there is little chance of breaking that cycle.
Enough of that though…
On to me and my own personal demons. When things start going really good, I tend to dig up everything that I’ve ever done in my life that could have been (or definitely was) wrong and go over it again and again. It was really starting to wear on me. So, I announced to the world, via the blog (my therapist), that Yes! I have done some messed up and wrong things! And it was like the relief that a person who is being blackmailed must feel when they finally tell the world whatever thing that is being held over their head and there is nothing left for a blackmailer to threaten them with. I don’t care who knows that I’ve been an asshole, I’ve hurt people’s feelings. I did things wrong and I know it. I also know that I’m not the same person I was when I did them. I mean, I was probably between 16 and 21 years of age when all the offenses occurred. If I were to see a 21 year old do some of the things I did, they’d never be as monumental as they seemed to be when I was holding them all in and torturing myself with them. So I let that out.
Really, the more I learn and the more confident I get, the more I try to knock myself down emotionally. How sick is that? I mean WHY would I do that? But I know why I do it. I was taught to do it. I didn’t do it to myself to begin with, my dad did it for me. Every single accomplishment, no matter how small or large, was met with contempt or indifference. No matter what happened, he would always knock you off your feet with something that just hurt so bad, that eventually I’d just do the damage for him without even bothering to get his attention. So what if I could sing on stage for hundreds of people, play the double bass (even if the thing was feet taller than me in the 6th grade! And OH, How I adored that double bass…) and the viola, I was an incredible artist (even in grade school) and would finish all my text books within the first two weeks of school (I would go through them all and answer all the questions in them on separate pages to be handed in as they were assigned, leaving me time to do extra credit)? To him I was a non-person. Not worthy enough to make noise, disturb him, or bore him with trivial things such as my accomplishments. They were a waste of time anyway, being as I was a worthless non-person. Of course I was just LOVED at school. Not! I was a geek, which was NOT cool back then…but not geeky enough to get to hang out with geeks, I had 1 friend from 5th grade to 9th when I moved from where I grew up, I had to wear clothes bought at consignment shops because my dad was too busy spending his money on things like $1000 putters and drivers. I was a favorite for other kids to make fun of, going to school was torture every day.
So, like I said, I know where it all came from. I’m very aware of it.
Now, if I’m sitting here going over my faults and everything I’ve ever done wrong in my life…well, then I’m just doing the emotional abuse for him. He doesn’t even have to put any energy into it. It really is sick. This is why I wrote that I had done things I thought were wrong. Once they are out in the open…I can’t torture myself anymore…because everyone knows! LOL (enter maniacal laugh here) And I’m good with people knowing that I’ve not been perfect at very nearly any point in my life. Who has? What counts is who I turned into. The person that all these events in my past created is who matters…and I think that person is pissed off at not being able to be free and do what they are meant to do. I mean, while I’ve done some not so great things, I’ve also survived things that most people would run away from in a heartbeat. And now that I think of it…in the world I lived in…where I was surrounded by the most undesirable of folks at times…I never once compromised my dignity when it really counted. I have to admit that in the case of love, I did some shit that emotions got in the way of dignity…but nothing that wouldn’t be considered just bad judgement brought on by panic (in my opinion).
I have experienced life in a way that many people wouldn’t even consider. I’ve just about seen it all. I managed to see it all from a spectator’s point of view though. I observed, I learned, I moved on. I spent many years in the music industry. My ex was a rock and roll singer, my world revolved around bands, I’ve met hundreds of bands…been on their tour buses, been to breakfast after parties, been to the parties…and yet I never slept with any of them, except the one I married of course. I liked being the safe girl in the group…guys could talk to you because you were on a different level. All my experiences have been like that.
Or they were until I got married to my current husband…everything changed suddenly. We went from being in charge of our destinies to being married. Like it was a disease.
It’s too bad that you don’t realize that you’ve switched on to autopilot until you’ve wasted a lot of time. I think I’ve beat that subject to death in previous posts though.
So, since I’m fixing things and cleaning out the old useless crap from my system, the personal torture was a an all time high. Now, it’s just not there.
I am thankful that I’ve been able to see my faults even if I don’t appreciate the replaying of the old ones. We don’t learn if we don’t see what we’ve done wrong. Learning to balance between extremes is the roughest part of life though. Do we not trust people because we’ve been hurt, or do we trust and open ourselves up for more pain? Do we hurt before we get hurt ourselves? Can we change how we see what is done to us when we are on the receiving end of a painful situation?
It’s easy to learn new ways and to say, “Yes, I’ll make sure I do that from now on”. But it takes many many tries to make that new way a habit. You might fail 20, 40, 100 times before it becomes a natural habit. By making balance a habit, we make our lives more peaceful. That doesn’t mean boring and quiet. LOL We just make our souls feel content with the decisions we make.
I’m sure I didn’t really give a reason for why I brought this up last post, but I have provided for quite a bit of reading. LOL
Today’s Claritan has officially hit a low point so I’m going to have to run to bed before I fall asleep in my chair. Goodnight to everyone…see you later.
:)
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