Archive | July 2010

I don’t deserve it

I don’t deserve it

But I have the grit

I can take it, I always have

I take my meds and rub on the salve

Some people have it worse

I’m not the only one with a curse

The emotional pain cuts much deeper

The edge of this cliff looking much steeper

What did I do?  What was my crime?

Whatever it was, I have served my time

Just stop torturing me

I’ve had enough, don’t you agree?

I try to think positive

The way they tell you to live

But then I breathe

And my insides seeth

The pain reminds me

That it’s very hard to find positivity

When I’m layin in bed suffering and alone

All I can envision is God on his throne

Deciding the next plight to throw my way

Maybe tomorrow He will give me a better day

A day without feeling like shit

Then again, maybe I don’t deserve it

Sorry for all the depressing posts lately.  My mind is just swimming in sadness for many reasons.  When I was younger maybe I would’ve spilled out my heart to someone else, but as you get older you run out of very many “someone’s”….My mom has enough problems and isn’t equipped to deal with mine, my grandmother is old and I wouldn’t want to dump stuff on her that she would then sit and worry over.  My kids have their own lives to a certain degree.  My husband works too much and has the day to day burden of me.  My friends are all off living their lives….so who do you go to once you’re all grown up?  You pray of course.  You read self help books.  You find online friends…you blog.  I remember when the kids were little, I would hear of “Empty Nest Syndrome” and think, “What?  They should feel happy and proud that they got their kids raised and out of the house running their own lives!”….but I am beginning to get it.  Once they are gone….what’s your job in life?  Then add to that a disability that prevents you from really working or pursuing any awesome hobbies…and you get, this.  You get a middle aged woman who has chronic pain and physical/emotional problems…who is struggling to find a purpose.  A reason to even go on.  So, that is the reason for all the depressing poems/posts…I’m trying to figure it all out…….by myself, yet with an audience.

Thanks for reading and the positive messages….much appreciated.

“Many people are in a rut, and a rut is nothing but a grave–with both ends kicked out.”………….Vance Havner

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The box

Trapped in a box without windows

Can barely acknowledge if the wind blows

Each day grows more painful than the last

As you rehash each minute of your torturous past

Is there any happiness left to be had?

Or will the rest of your days be equally as sad?

Does anyone care?

When I need them, no one is there

They grow bored with the sorrow

Don’t want it to be part of their tomorrow

So who do you have left to confide in?

Or do you continue with the oh so fake grin?

People do love you, this is true

But they are at a loss on how to fix you

Maybe their lives would be easier and less complicated

If you were to fly away or perhaps even be cremated

Maybe your presence is really no longer needed

Perhaps they’re not happy with the way they’ve been treated.

What good are you to anyone anymore?

You’re just a body thats been ripped and tore

So just crawl deep into your box

And forget the combination to the locks

“The roots of morality are to be found in empathy”………..Martin L. Hoffman, PH.D

 

 

Public Apology:

This is a public apology…to my children.  Whether they have been bothered by me in the past, the present or will be in the future.  I probably owe you an apology.

I’m sorry that when you were in my womb I talked to you every waking moment as if you would answer me, and read books to you and actually believed that when you did a little turn in there, it was because you were enjoying the story.

I’m sorry that when you were an infant I held you more often than not.  I watched you sleep.  I fretted over you if you slept too much or not enough.  I made sure you were breathing if  you were asleep longer than five minutes.  I read every baby book ever written.  I changed your clothes alot, just cuz you had so many cute outfits!  I took you out just to show you off. I loved to just smell the top of your heads after a bath!  I sang to you all the time.

I’m sorry that when you were a toddler I watched over you like a hawk.  I safety proofed every single thing in the house, every corner, every hard surface, every cabinet, every toilet…was militant about child safety seats, and never once left you with a babysitter that wasn’t related because I was sure you would be injured in some way.  I’m sorry I still read to you and sang to you.  I’m sorry I hovered over you and tried to always keep you safe, clean and out of harms way.  I’m sorry I would tickle your toes just to hear you squeal with laughter!

When you were a child I am sorry I made you eat food you disliked because it was good for you.  I’m sorry I tried to teach you manners.  I’m sorry I let all your friends stay the night whenever you wanted them too, because that kept you safe at home with me.  I’m sorry I made such a fuss if you ever went to another friends house by having to meet the parents.  I’m sorry I made you sit at the table practicing your spelling or math over and over so you could pass the tests.  I’m sorry I sat up late at night with you trying to finish a science project you waited til the last minute to tell me about.  I’m sorry I would make up a fake “ghost detector” so you would be able to sleep at night knowing there were no ghosts under your bed or in your closet.  I’m sorry I waited til you got home from school everyday and asked many questions about what went on at school and what kind of day you had.  I’m sorry for letting one of you eat PB & J for lunch every single day for a year, because that was all you would take to school for lunch.  I’m sorry I had to wrestle one of you almost daily just to get your hair combed because you detested it so.  I’m sorry for any times I was an embarrassment…such as the day I had to chase one of your school busses down the street because they forgot to drop you off….in my pajamas.  I’m sorry for staying up all night when you were sick, cleaning up after your sick tummies expelled their contents allover the beds/floors/clothes/etc., fretting each moment that you would die of some plague not yet discovered by modern medicine.

I’m sorry during  your teen years I made you do your homework.  I’m sorry I made you pitch in with chores around the house, sometimes without an allowance, because that’s just what families do.  I’m sorry I asked 1000 questions whenever you wanted to go somewhere.  I’m sorry I asked more questions with each new friend you made and wanted to hang with.  I’m sorry I didn’t allow you to ride in cars with other teen drivers.  I’m sorry I didn’t allow you to go to parties that I feared there would be “no good” going on.  I’m sorry I griped at you for leaving half full pop cans laying around everywhere or half eaten food in your rooms.  I’m sorry that you didn’t always understand my rules or reasonings.  I’m sorry that when you thought you were “getting away with something” I probably knew about it and just let it go….picking my battles and letting some slide.  I’m sorry that I would let you tell me grandiose stories that I knew were untrue, but I let you believe I believed.  I’m sorry for trying to build your self esteem and self respect.  I’m sorry for trying to teach you about life and about becoming and adult.  I’m sorry I didn’t force you to get jobs because I believed you should enjoy your time as a kid and that school was hard enough.  I’m sorry I didn’t push you to hard academically, again…because I believed no one needs to be brow beaten to exceed at something if they don’t enjoy it.  I’m sorry I tried to protect you from every conceivable danger in the world.

As adults I’m sorry if I still feel I’m a mother who needs to try to help.  I’m sorry if I still think your life is part of mine.  I’m sorry if I still think I can help keep you from making mistakes, I’m sorry if I am still trying to safe guard all the sharp corners of life.  I’m sorry if I still try to make you giggle because I enjoy the sound so much.  I’m sorry if I can’t help myself from giving my opinions on your every move.  I’m sorry if I didn’t fully succeed at preparing you for the hard knocks of life.  I’m sorry if I have ever hurt your feelings or your pride.  I’m sorry if I have ever scared you by being ill.  I’m sorry if I have made mistakes.  I’m sorry if I will continue to make mistakes.  I’m sorry if I will spoil your future children and try to protect them as well.  I’m sorry if I someday become a burden that you won’t have time for.  I’m sorry if I will someday leave you and no longer be around to annoy you in some way.  I’m sorry for feeling guilt at your every misfortune in life.

I’m sorry.  Because….I am a mom…and moms are usually sorry about something. 

“I think a mother is the best friend God gives us.  There are friend moments, and there are mother moments.  Sometimes they are both at the same time”  Virginia Harris

Perception

I’ve been thinking lately of peoples perceptions of other people.  You know how it is…you see someone and you immediately acquire an idea on who that person is.  By their appearance, demeaner, personality, etc.  Now if you don’t really know that person, you may never know if your “perception” of him was on target or not…

But what of our perceptions of the people we do know?  Or we THINK we know….are our perceptions correct about them?  Do we know their likes/dislikes?  Do we know their political/religious views?  Do we know all their favorites and non faves?  Do we REALLY know if they are safe or unsafe characters?  Are they responsible?  Are they alcoholics?  Thieves?  BiPolar? Depressed?  Happily married or just faking it well? Addicted to drugs? Sex?

How long of a relationship must you have with someone before you REALLY know them?  Five minutes?  A week?  Month? Year? Many years?  Do we ever REALLY know anyone?  We percieve that we do.  But then perhaps they will do something so out of character that we are taken aback.  We are stunned and confused…we think “Well, why would she do that?  That’s so unlike her”

How do others perceive us?  We all change our “faces” …don’t we?  I mean we have our family personality, our company personality, our work personality, our new acquaintance personality, our business personality, our best friend personality, ….you get the idea.

Does any of us REALLY know any of us?  I’ve often wondered how I will be described after I pass away.  Here’s is what I would say about ME:  She was a tragic soul….who lead a rough life, but overcame it for the most part.  She was strong and stubborn.  She liked to do things well…and right.  She was only affectionate with her children and her animals mostly.  She was a free spirit in her younger years, but lost that along the way after life sort of beat her down.  She did her best living with chronic pain…she really believed in using humor to heal the soul.  Loved to laugh.  Loved to read. Loved her children and family so much it consumed her at times.  Was kind to children and animals.  Put a brave face on most days and faced the world…all while gritting her teeth and wanting to get back to bed…lol.  She wanted to feel useful, she wanted others to feel loved and cared for.  She tried to guide her children, to give them useful advice.  She prays constantly. She has a few good friends and has a couple online friends she feels even closer to…a sisterly bond thru pain. She likes for things to run smoothly and therefore tries to make it so.  Believes in lists, lists and more lists! 

So that would be MY perception of me.  Someone else may say things completely different.  May think I’m bitchy and controlling and moody.  May think I am cold and indifferent.  May think I am whiney.  May think I milk my illness.  May think I’m lazy and fat and ugly.

Point being…our perceptions of people….may be wrong or right.  But we treat them the way we perceive them.  Let’s say you treat this friend with utter respect, as he is a doctor, and you have always considered him an upstanding honest truthful person.  Then you find out he is addicted to drugs or porn and cheats on his wife.  How did you not SEE this side of him?  How did he hide it so well?  Or was it right under your nose and yet you chose NOT to see the signs?  Being stabbed in the back is painful…but do we sometimes set ourselves up for it?  By not seeing the forest for the trees?

Sometimes I know people who are so outwardly fake.  Maybe they think no one else notices or knows.  But it’s embarrassing watching them try to pretend to be someone they are not.  Especially when everyone knows they aren’t really that way, or if they buy into the act, they then think that person is an idiot.  When deep down that person is a scared and sad person, who is afraid to show their true selves to people for whatever reason.  Maybe they are not proud of what they’ve become, so they choose to puff up their life story to make it seem more interesting…but all it does is drive people away.

We are a race of perceptions.  I am usually pretty good at reading people.  But I don’t think everyone is.  Sometimes we get the wrong vibes from people…I say go with your gut.  But I feel we all need to put away the masks.  Let’s be who we are, imperfections and all.  Stop trying to impress.  Stop kicking ourselves for not being who we think others want us to be.  We are who we are.  Let’s not waste this life suffering because we perceive we are not who we should’ve been.

I will still wonder how others perceive me…hmmm.

“FAMILIAR ROUTINES BECOME BAD HABITS”

I care.

All I ever did was care

Even when you didn’t know I was there

My heart breaks with each mistake

As I watch the road you choose to take

You think I’m clueless

As I grow old and useless

But I’ve much wisdom to give

That will go unused while you live

I know of what I speak

Even as I become left out and weak

I’ve walked the road you’re on

But that path of mine is long gone

How do I stop the worry?

As you live your lives in a flurry?

Do I love too much?

To stop is just too tough

It would truly be easier not to care as much

Then my heart wouldn’t be crushed to mush

Why do I pull out my hair?

Because all I do is care

ONe more….these come to me in just a few minutes…so I know they are very amateurish….but I like it….it feels good to get it out of my head…I have discovered I quite enjoy rhyming…lol…wish you could get rich just by writing out these little quips in a few minutes like this…that would be super duper cool! Have a great weekend everyone! xoxo Be safe….cuz ya know….I WORRY! 😉

Failure

I am and always have been one of those people who hate to fail.  At anything.  Since I was a young child I have always wanted to “do good” or “be the best” or to “please” those around me.  In elementary school I wanted to be the best speller, the best handwriter, the best kickball player, the best dancer, the best gymnast….you get the idea.

As I grew up, this urge continued.  I had to get straight A’s all throughout nursing school…and did, made it on the Dean’s List, and in the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society.  Then when I started having children, I wanted to be the “best mommy”…I cuddled and coo’d and rocked and sang….I hovered and loved…maybe too much at times.

Point being, that I can’t stand to fail.  I hate to disappoint anyone.  I hate to do anything badly.  And of course I HAVE failed at things.  I’m not perfect.  But I sooo hate that feeling in my gut when I know I am not doing something well, or when I feel I’ve made a mistake, or I think someone is mad at me or thinks badly of me…I just hate it!  I am my worst critic as the old saying goes.  I’m hard on myself for sure.  I used to be worse than I am now…but it’s still there.

There are days when (in my head) I will have a running dialogue that goes something like this: “Man, you are such an idiot.  You know you are the worst mother in the world right?  You have really screwed things up sister! Why can’t you be a good mother?  What is wrong with you?  Why did you do that the way you did?” or “Wow…what a moron!  You just said the dumbest thing to that person…ya know they think you’re a complete idiot now, right? Why can’t you talk right?  What is wrong with you?” or “Geeze you are a fat pig!  Look how ridiculous you look in this outfit!  Like a big fat cow in capris! Why can’t you lose weight?” or “My God, look at all this dog hair on the floor!  This house is a pigpen!  Can’t you keep it cleaner?  More organized? What a loser!” or “You just spent waaay to much money on groceries!  Why can’t you be like those genius coupon women?” or “Look at that athletic healthy woman jogging down the street…why can’t YOU do that?” or “Great…another burnt dinner, take cooking lessons already!”

The crazyness is endless…the conversations that go on in my head….I feel like a failure in so many ways on so many days.  Even when it’s someone else who is failing…if I feel I coulda or shoulda prevented their problems…I blame myself.  If I’m in a group of people and someone seems pissed off…I immediately assume it’s my fault and go about trying to make them “UN pissed off”….try to get into their good graces.  If a friend doesn’t call me for a week…I immediately think “Oh my God!  What did I do?  I must have pissed her off last time I saw her!  What did I say?  What did I do?”  It is of course insane to be this way…I know this…but can’t stop it.  Sometimes I will be driving and just start thinking about all the things that I perceive myself to have failed at and will burst into tears.  “I’m a bad mom!  I’ve ruined my kids!” “I spent too much money!  We are gonna be broke!” “I pissed my coworkers off!  Now they hate me!” ” I just cut that guy in the blue truck off!  Now he thinks I’m a dumb woman driver!”…..lol….pathetic, I know.

So, what is the answer?  I’m not sure…there is probably a self help book out there I can read….I’ll look into it….but it wouldn’t help…I would read it, then figure I failed to learn the message it had.

Oh well….some people are out there and couldn’t care less if they fail or succeed.  I bet they are soo happy!  Grrr!
“Success is a matter of luck. Ask any failure.”  Earl Wilson