Recoup your losses
Being sick gave me too much time to think. I say that because the next bit is going to be a little self-pitying and scattered - like my brain.
The extra time on the couch hopped up on cough medicine put my brain on overdrive. I started to catalogue what I have versus what I need and then I started in on what I want. Holy avalanche of internal drama, Batman!
The number one thing I have been dwelling on is the fact that I am getting fluffy. (Thanks, Wii Fit!) We got the Fit for Christmas and I am realizing that Adam is probably very, very right in not allowing a scale in the house. I knew that I was bigger than I was, say, before Mazzy, but what I didn't realize is that I have gained weight since she died, as well. Eep. The scared, anorexic control freak still living inside of me flipped out. I am sorting through the hella crazy to find reasonable approaches to reducing my weight while strengthening the body that I already have. It is more difficult than you might realize. The person trying to fight for dominance actually lived on two glasses of orange juice a day and vitamins for two years while training in dance. Yeah, I have a vicious, self-hating bitch inside my head that I have managed to beat down and trap, but she hasn't shut up since I was fifteen years old. She lives next to the cutter and the OCD organizer. It's loud in here, send ear plugs!
At any rate, the next thing I am having to battle is the concept of who I am (duh) what I like about that person and how that isn't in compliance with making friends and charming people. In fact, I am kind of a lump. I prefer it that, honestly. I just don't know how to balance that with the idea that people need people. Since that is more complicated, and hopefully a temporary train of thought brought on by the fact hat I had a small meltdown when I realized that I never win anything. Except Paper, Rock, Scissors and only with Adam. (Fun fact: Adam has NEVER won a round of Paper, Rock, Scissors against me in seven years. The secret? He always throws rock.)
Some of the insecurity stems from the fact that I don't look good on paper. The qualities that I admire about myself, the parts of my personality that I encourage to grow, they don't translate well. I am strong, resilient, neat, punctual and loyal. Now, how many of you jumped up and said, "Hey, I need to be friends with HER! She sounds like fun?" Seriously?
In the end, I realized that the only things that I have in my life are my marriage (which rocks) and our house. I don't really need to "work" on my marriage. Any time I put too much energy in to the marriage, we fight. Adam doesn't require that much attention. In fact, too much attention makes him defensive and things don't end well.
That leaves the house.
Ah, my beautiful crap shack. I love this house, I really do, but the people that have lived here sort of treat our home like a hooker. They do whatever they please and expect someone else to clean up the mess. Lovely. So, my taupe box is a little worse for the wear. It is getting to the point that no amount of cleaning will bring the New House Smell back. Sad. I struggle so hard to shine up the house. It is all we have. We aren't like some people. We don't look around and say, "What a fine starter house we have." This is our house. We will be old and rickety bouncing in this house until it is time to sell it for retirement funds so that we can move in to a Fraggle Farm of our very own. Something with lake views. (We have the placed picked out already. We drive by sometimes, looking at the unit we want to live in.)
I just keep telling myself that we will help my brother and that will be it. We won't have to help anyone else out.
I know that this is a bit defeated and morose. I am just down. I scrubbed the kitchen and mopped the floors. I took off the layer of grime that had gathered while I was sick and my mom was "helping" in the kitchen. (She cooks on high, letting things splatter and she never wipes off the counters or the stove top.) When I was doing this, I decided to be nice and run the vacuum cleaner in Mom's room. I shouldn't have gone in there. It was so depressing to see the master suite in such a condition. The floors are stained and the bathroom hasn't been cleaned in who knows how long. I suppose that it will come down to me cleaning that, too.... I sincerely wish that my mother was able to show her appreciation by taking care of the things that we have made available to her.
Because, it is my house, the only one that I get, and I want to be able to be proud of the one thing that Adam and I have accomplished together. It is Emo, but watching my house fall apart, like pretty much everything else in my life, makes me sad. Is it our lot in life to only have dirty, dying things?
I suppose this has swirled down the drain. I just needed to sort some of it out and write it down. I needed to see just how pathetic I could be so that I can get over it. Now I will scurry off to try that much harder to make this house feel loved.
The extra time on the couch hopped up on cough medicine put my brain on overdrive. I started to catalogue what I have versus what I need and then I started in on what I want. Holy avalanche of internal drama, Batman!
The number one thing I have been dwelling on is the fact that I am getting fluffy. (Thanks, Wii Fit!) We got the Fit for Christmas and I am realizing that Adam is probably very, very right in not allowing a scale in the house. I knew that I was bigger than I was, say, before Mazzy, but what I didn't realize is that I have gained weight since she died, as well. Eep. The scared, anorexic control freak still living inside of me flipped out. I am sorting through the hella crazy to find reasonable approaches to reducing my weight while strengthening the body that I already have. It is more difficult than you might realize. The person trying to fight for dominance actually lived on two glasses of orange juice a day and vitamins for two years while training in dance. Yeah, I have a vicious, self-hating bitch inside my head that I have managed to beat down and trap, but she hasn't shut up since I was fifteen years old. She lives next to the cutter and the OCD organizer. It's loud in here, send ear plugs!
At any rate, the next thing I am having to battle is the concept of who I am (duh) what I like about that person and how that isn't in compliance with making friends and charming people. In fact, I am kind of a lump. I prefer it that, honestly. I just don't know how to balance that with the idea that people need people. Since that is more complicated, and hopefully a temporary train of thought brought on by the fact hat I had a small meltdown when I realized that I never win anything. Except Paper, Rock, Scissors and only with Adam. (Fun fact: Adam has NEVER won a round of Paper, Rock, Scissors against me in seven years. The secret? He always throws rock.)
Some of the insecurity stems from the fact that I don't look good on paper. The qualities that I admire about myself, the parts of my personality that I encourage to grow, they don't translate well. I am strong, resilient, neat, punctual and loyal. Now, how many of you jumped up and said, "Hey, I need to be friends with HER! She sounds like fun?" Seriously?
In the end, I realized that the only things that I have in my life are my marriage (which rocks) and our house. I don't really need to "work" on my marriage. Any time I put too much energy in to the marriage, we fight. Adam doesn't require that much attention. In fact, too much attention makes him defensive and things don't end well.
That leaves the house.
Ah, my beautiful crap shack. I love this house, I really do, but the people that have lived here sort of treat our home like a hooker. They do whatever they please and expect someone else to clean up the mess. Lovely. So, my taupe box is a little worse for the wear. It is getting to the point that no amount of cleaning will bring the New House Smell back. Sad. I struggle so hard to shine up the house. It is all we have. We aren't like some people. We don't look around and say, "What a fine starter house we have." This is our house. We will be old and rickety bouncing in this house until it is time to sell it for retirement funds so that we can move in to a Fraggle Farm of our very own. Something with lake views. (We have the placed picked out already. We drive by sometimes, looking at the unit we want to live in.)
I just keep telling myself that we will help my brother and that will be it. We won't have to help anyone else out.
I know that this is a bit defeated and morose. I am just down. I scrubbed the kitchen and mopped the floors. I took off the layer of grime that had gathered while I was sick and my mom was "helping" in the kitchen. (She cooks on high, letting things splatter and she never wipes off the counters or the stove top.) When I was doing this, I decided to be nice and run the vacuum cleaner in Mom's room. I shouldn't have gone in there. It was so depressing to see the master suite in such a condition. The floors are stained and the bathroom hasn't been cleaned in who knows how long. I suppose that it will come down to me cleaning that, too.... I sincerely wish that my mother was able to show her appreciation by taking care of the things that we have made available to her.
Because, it is my house, the only one that I get, and I want to be able to be proud of the one thing that Adam and I have accomplished together. It is Emo, but watching my house fall apart, like pretty much everything else in my life, makes me sad. Is it our lot in life to only have dirty, dying things?
I suppose this has swirled down the drain. I just needed to sort some of it out and write it down. I needed to see just how pathetic I could be so that I can get over it. Now I will scurry off to try that much harder to make this house feel loved.
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