Undone

A friend posted a really good youtube video (i’ll nab it for y’all) about Bullying, and how it effects us all … always.

I started posting this in reply to him, but decided it may do better here:

The thing of it is, You can’t protect your kids from everything. It’s just another lesson to learn, that some people out there are COMPLETE jerkwads. I don’t think you shouldn’t TRY to do something, but eventually you have to learn a coping mechanism for dealing with unpleasant people.

I don’t know why kids are cruel. I think some of it may just be ignorance… at least with younger children (like with Katie) I don’t think people are being mean to her, just to be mean. LIKE THE JERK KID WHO TOLD HER SANTA WASN’T REAL. *sighs* Everyone is just stumbling through life hoping (at least on some level) they’re not screwing it up. There are probably things I did that scarred other people. There was a kid in junior high (DQ can vouch for this) that I stared at, just because I delighted in his reaction. I don’t know if it was a joke for him (i hope so) but it was for me. Hindsight I guess? It was all just a game to me, and I’ve probably given someone horrible baggage for my own entertainment.

Kids (older and younger) in elementary called me chia pet because of an unfortunate haircut i got. I have spent a good portion of my life hating my hair. I still wear it up … ALL the time, because of my loathing for it. I hate spending ANY time on it at all. To me it seems like a waste because I’ll always just hate it. There are other things I dislike about myself that I make into a joke (like my really light eyebrows… and how I lost my eyebrows saving a cat from a burning building) At some point in High school I finally was just like “screw you all Imma gonna do what I want.” and I decided to feel sad when I wanted, and when my horrible ex boyfriend who was verbally abusive to me and called me fat when I was five-seven and 130 lbs got dumped by his next girlfriend I did, quite literally LAUGH in his face. Not many people get the chance to do that, so who was I to squander that?

I appreciate that I was able to spend a lot of time to myself, to figure out that it was OK to let my freak flag fly. Also to tell my parents, who were and are amazingly supportive, about my depressive tendencies. I had a mom who would call my friends and invite them over to wake me out of my depressive comas, and awesome friends who would just cruise in my minivan. I had supportive people, I had people who told me the truth, even when it was rough. I had people walk out, and never look back. I’ve got new friends, I’ve got old friends. I still sometimes have the lingering feeling of being alone in a crowded room. The overwhelming fear that when I open my mouth that everyone will laugh at me.

I want to protect my kids from my neurosis and make sure they develop as few of their own as possible… It occurred to me in the car that despite having lived a very a-typical life I am a very typical person. Everyone has baggage, everyone can recall that jerk kid who was mean to them when they were little, everyone can think back and find a dark memory. They are NOT all the same, but there is a nugget of commiseration there. No one has had a perfect life. No one had a mom sitting with cookies and milk waiting for them to come home every day they had a bad day, warm and fresh from the oven. Some parents yell, some kids do bad things. It’s ok that it’s not perfect. Imperfect is a-ok.

I’m a good person, My hair is a little crazy and for some reason I have really light eyebrows. I’m overweight, and I am beautiful. I have two amazing girls, who are smart, kind, and beautiful. I cannot protect them from the harshness of the world. I will hold their hand. I will let them cry on my shoulder. I will give them advice. I will be there for them. I will do what I can, when I can. I will teach them to love the people who hurt them, and forgive them. I have a choice, as does every person, when something bad happens. I can choose anger and pain, or I can choose to let that go and love them anyway.

I want to teach my kids to love those that would hurt them.

Derringer Meryl [All you need is love] Out

yesterday I signed up for being able to view my labs and stuff online! It’s super cool, quite frankly I love it. It’ll show me labs for pretty much back to 2000… which once again, is flippin’ cool.

I like reading that stuff. I learned things that my doctors never deigned to tell me. LIke that I had a hematoma with my daughter Audrey … it’s apparently REALLY normal (according to the internet) but no one ever chose to tell me. She was also breech at her 20 week appt. Maybe I’ll never have a head down baby. little jerks!

I also found the lab reports for my unborn baby from 2005. It was heart breaking. This blog, while public, is probably the only place I’ll mention it. Though my husband did just abscond with the computer a moment ago, so I suppose he read it…

I realized as well last night the time between my last daughter’s birth and now (and every day still) is the longest time I’ve been NOT pregnant in our entire marriage. Which is weird to think about.

Yes I am thinking about babies a lot lately.

Yes I understand I sound quite strange.

Yes I should probably not think about it so much since we’re still waiting.

No. I am not going to explain to you why this is important to me. It’s special and I don’t want to talk about it with people who are just going to roll their eyes at how I feel. It’s kind of an on going policy.

Also i don’t consider myself to be like, a baby churning out machine. Clearly I am able to exercise restraint in having children, as I don’t have 25, and If I did have 25 kids (not sure if possible at my age) who the hugs business is it but mine and my husband’s how many kids we decide to have (3, thank you very much). I realize i’m getting defensive at a conversation I’m having essentially with myself, but welcome to my life.

Anyway. I love being pregnant, even though it’s hard. It *IS* hard. But I love it. I love tiny babies, I love watching my kids grow, and helping them be great people. I am just looking forward to doing it again.

Derringer Meryl [BAAAAAAAAAAAAABIES] Out

I hear this a lot.  Don’t you WANT to stay at home with your kids?

I will be upfront: yes. That’s the short answer.

The VERY long answer is this:

I have two kids and a house to pay for, in addition to the convenience of having money… I think we’re a bit addicted to it. I love the company I work for. I do. The people I work with are amazing, and great people. I have a good boss, and a company that cares about me as a person and wants to continue my development. Twenty-two year old Meryl would have been SO enthused. This was all I wanted. I wanted to be a trainer, and to work and be vital to the workings of a company.

it’s just one of those “be careful what you wish for” i guess. I feel stressed. Like a million knots have been tied in my stomach. It hurts! I’m getting older (everyone does, and it’s not so cool now as it was when I was 11) and each year I find I’m getting less sleep. I wish i was getting more, but it’s always less, and the wild swinging schedules are killing me. But I will keep doing them, because I”m a woman of my word. I said I would, and honestly, I don’t think I could go back (or maybe I would?)

When my former Boss asks me “How are you liking working for your new boss?” and wants my honest opinion, I give it to him. I feel like a house divided, and quite frankly I’m not standing up to that very well. I am tired, A LOT. I’m trying to adapt, and it takes a lot of work. It’s just the adjustment period. I’m just … I’m trying. All the while it keeps ringing back….

Don’t you want to stay at home?

Yes. I do. and it always turns out to be a “someday” or a “soon” and even “I should be able to {insert future date}” I wouldn’t mind working at some menial job (grocery and retail, whatever) part time. I need something lower stress. I need something healthier. It’s almost 6 years past when I wanted to stop working.

I keep going. I am beginning to think it’ll never stop.

Derringer Meryl [I’m a sad face] Out

So I’ve been working nights, and working nights usually leads to me getting on a path of staying up too dang late … and it’s a horrible cycle of horribleness.

I ususally feel more depressed for less sleep. I often feel like my simple diagnosis of “Depression” and “Social Anxiety” isn’t enough. (Well for good measure and accuracy I guess we could toss ADD in there too. Someone this week asked me if I was dyslexic… I felt like asking him if he was always stupid. That would have been rude of me, wouldn’t it have?) ANYWAY.  This kind of goes hand in hadn with my diet issues. My considerable diet issues. I learned of a new mental disease (i collect mental diseases like an old woman collects doilies and cats.) called impulse control disorder.

Now I’ve been to therapy a time or two in my days, and it seems to me a lot of the time doctors don’t like to put names to things you have. Because once I started reading about it, I realized, my last therapist (the gem that told me that I needed to quit my job or I was for sure going to get divorced, HAH. Jerkwad. I don’t have to do anything you say I am going to do. SO THERE.) had basically told me the “steps” of this disorder as a discription of something I had. I have. Because the thing is… it doesn’t matter what I’m doing this is how it goes:

an impulse> growing tension> pleasure from acting> relief from the urge > guilt

That’s how it goes in the grocery store, or on the way to work … usually with food now days. There were dark days where it was alcohol. I’ve never drank, I’m glad for it. Because this is what my life would turn into “I want a drink. I shouldn’t drink. Why not drinking makes you feel good, and you relax and you let go. Ok let’s get a drink. YAY THIS BEING DRUNK IS FANTASTIC! Oh see wasn’t that great… No it wasn’t. I should never do that again.” and then REPEAT. Instead, I usually insert sweets. Candy,  cake, sugar, soda, etc. If it will make you sick from eating it, I’ve eaten too much of it and vomited. JUST SO YOU KNOW. So it goes like this “I should buy some candy (or eat candy if I already have it.) No, that’s not a great idea, because I’m trying to diet. But, I was really good today, I did all that work, and I deserve the weekend off, and (JUSTIFICATION JUSTIFICATION, RATIONALIZATION) Ok, i’m going to eat this candy (sugar whatever junk) THIS IS SO DAMN TASTY. I will never regret this (then it cycles a bit until I’m nauseated. SERIOUSLY.) then the guilt of why do I do this to myself. I’m trying to lose weight.”

This is why, i don’t drink. THIS ^^^^^^ I’ve always (on some level) known this about myself. I knew if I took a drink I’d never stop. I wish I could go back in time and never have candy (among other things I wish I could go back and never do) but I can’t. I can’t undo what’s been done. I can only make a choice. That after I get the impulse, that I don’t give in. Because I don’t want to be the person who has to be lifted from their house with a crane when they die. You know?

I was, as a teen, fairly tightly wound. You know. BORING. I never partied, and as I’ve mentioned like a million times, I have never drank. Never did drugs, a little straight edge whatever. (think of it as you will!) I didn’t date, I hadn’t kissed anyone (until I met my hubby) I was a plain jane vanilla girl.

I’ve always hated myself for it. For a lot of things. Scott and I were cleaning up and I found a journal of mine from 2010 when I was in therapy. I wrote down all the things I hated about myself. I wrote PAGES and pages. I wish I could say I’m free of it now. I’m not. I still really REALLY struggle with my depression! I’m trying though. I am in love with Scott, who constantly reminds me that I’m an awesome mom, and that he loves me. He encourages me in my dreams, and wants me to be an awesome writer. I told him the other day that I wanted to take a whole day off from everything (no chores, no kids, not even him) and he didn’t blink an eye and just said ok. I don’t know if he was hurt by that, but I’ve become increasingly more attuned to my social anxiety. I act Like Suzy Social skirt, but it’s a waring facade to project. I can’t be that girl who chats to everyone and remembers everyone’s names. I am NOT the girl who is engaging all the time. I am occasionally charming and funny. I’m glad I didn’t decide to be an actor, I’d probably have died by now.

AND. Like an alcoholic who drinks too much when they’re stressed, I eat too much. I do. I have made my self sick tonight on Pizza and gummy butterflies. I have made myself nauseated at least once every week this past month. And while my former therapist wasn’t right that I would get divorced or I would need to quit my job… the reality is, I need to quit my job or I’ll eat myself to death. (Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, But someday, I’ll get sick from it, and die.)

GOD THAT’S BLEAK.

So I say NO. I’m not going to let stress eat me into a diabetic coma. I’m going to put myself higher on my priorty list. I will do something for myself besides eat. Food isn’t my enemy (I need it duh) but I don’t need to eat Fudge striped cookies and gummy butterflies. I can make healthier choices and NOT feel sick every weekend and I can choose to not die from poor choices. I want to be better. I can be if I try harder. I will say NO more. I will NOT force myself to be suzy social skirt, and I will still be great at what I do without OVER doing it.

Derringer Meryl [331] out