Undone

At work we’ve been examining “why” a lot. Why do we want quality workers? why do we provide the service the way we do? Why, Why, Why?

I’ve been applying Why into my life. In case you need a bit of perspective:

So I’ve been thinking about this in a lot of different ways, relating to my job, because honestly that’s where this first was shown to me so it’s logical that I would apply it there first.

Then I started thinking about the fact that WHY would (and could) lead me to being a happier person. Truely. Simon has another video about how much he dislikes the “self help” industry because if we could just reach out to the other people around us and help THEM with their issues without any thought to being “paid back” any sort of return on that investment of our time, other than our own feeling of fulfillment.

I know people who live like this, they are generally much happier than me. I have to admit, I am NOT good at the things Mr. Sinek speaks of. Mostly reaching out to our fellow man. He says that we sit in our cubicles at work and just stay closed off. I wonder, if there is something about my psyche that makes me resistant to other people. At work we do a personality index, I’ve sat through the review of the results… at least 9 times now? and the things I know are that I score low ion the extroverted scale. I am technically an introvert that makes me kind of unique in the fact that my job requires me to be social. I am not socially poised, I DO worry that people like me. I do like to be the center of attention and make people laugh. Because it brings me fulfillment. It makes me feel good. So it’s weird that my fulfillment is working opposite of my personality. There’s probably some deep psychological hole in my brain that a doctor could fix so that I didn’t hate myself for being terrified of people. I do work at it. I enjoy training at work QUITE a bit, because (as any member of my immediate family will tell you) I like to repeat funny stories/jokes. Even if they fall flat. I will tell you the same snooty factoid (did you know that the Brigham City Temple was built on top of the Elementary school I went to? NO? Let me tell you again in 20 minutes.) even though I’ve probably already told you. FUN TIMES EH? Anyway. I like talking, like educating. I’d be a rubbish elementary/secondary school teacher. Mostly because as a trainer, i work with my boss to pick who is in my classes. As a teacher you get what you get and you don’t get upset. So there’s that. I don’t get final say, but– I do the best with what I’m given haha.

Anyway, I was thinking about Why in relation to my weight. I would L-O-V-E to be thin and a little bit foxy (VERY MUCH) and I’d honestly adore just being able to shop at a regular store. But those are the results I’m chasing. (seriously, have you watched the video? Do it!) Maybe I’m the eternal skeptic or something because I don’t have a belief. I don’t have a why. Why am I trying to lose weight? What is my belief set behind that? I think this applies. Because I am a drifter. A chameleon I will believe what you believe with the passion you have. I don’t have a solid opinion of anything. I don’t believe I can do it.

Let me say that again. I don’t feel like the full weight of the statement can be fully felt without me repeating it.

I don’t believe I can do it.

When I say that, when I feel it, when I write it, it is what i mean. It may seem a bit Melodramatic right? People say that’s what I am. Melodramatic. Over dramatic. Whatever. I feel like I am HONEST. I believe in my emotions, and the things I say about my emotions are not exaggerations, they are a true and brilliant painting of the war within my head. People thought that Van Gough was crazy because he could see the color in the universe when no one else could. Maybe it made him a little bit of a nutter. I’m not saying I’m Van Gough, cause I tell you I’m not, but I can tell you that I can relate to feeling something so intensely that it makes you feel insane.

Feeling nothing can make you just as crazy. Sometimes it feels like a faucet. I can only feel everything and be mad, or feel nothing at all and wonder what’s the point. To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or by opposing end them.

Look how easily I’ve turned this into something dark!

POINT: My lack of belief in myself makes all of my negative self talk true. I think I’m downright rubbish at my job. I feel quite frequently as a failure. I struggle. I am IMMENSELY proud of my trainees. It seems a little silly, because it’s not like they’re my friends, they’re just acquaintances, but I am proud of their successes, because as their trainer, their success is MY success.

So how do I eliminate that niggling “no you can’t” in the back of my head. The voice I know all so well. I know who he is, and I know where he came from. As much as I want to shut it all away– I can’t. I shut down parts of me to play perfect girl for a while. I did that a lot in High School. Junior high too. Smiling Meryl. Happy Meryl,  Sometimes is never quite enough if you’re flawless, then you’ll win my love … how sad is it that in the end I’m the person that I want to escape. At the end of the day the person that isn’t happy with how i”ve done is me. I project it on other people. Scott, the girls, my boss, God. Everyone else I think is not loving me enough, and it’s because i”m trying to shove all their love into this huge gaping hole I have where my self-esteem is supposed to be.

I remember thinking “if I just had kids, they’ll love me enough.” Maybe not consciously, I may not have had that EXACT thought, but it was there. Before that, It was if I had a husband, or if I had enough friends, or if I had a boyfriend.

Quite frankly the problem is that all the love in the world for exactly who I am now cannot replace the belief i should I have in myself. The belief that I am good enough. Strong enough, That I deserve to be loved, by the most important person in the world to me. As selfish as it sounds, if you don’t have yourself on your team, who do you have?

Does that make sense?  Probably not. Post 10 PM Meryl usually sounds like a bunch of crazy. But this all seems very clear to me now. So I figured out the Why to my broken-ness, I guess the next thing is … How do I fix it?

Derringer Meryl [Deep.] Out

People are often shocked when I say I’m socially awkward. I think that’s because I feel awkward, but i”m not.

Also I don’t like people initially. I would say there is probably a 5% of the populace that I like on my first meeting them. Usually those people are the ones who aren’t trying too hard. Try not to take this offensively, the fact of the matter is, no matter what (nearly) you’ll grow on me, and I’ll love you loads and loads. Some people get a free pass into me liking them. I became their friend before I hit Puberty or you were a friend/girlfriend of one of my older siblings, and so you got a free pass into me liking you. The rest of you? Get to work!

I’ve been trying to piece together why specific people get on my nerves. First and foremost, I don’t like people who are strong. I like people who are awkward like me, or laid back casual, fun people.  People who have an “in your face” interface just BUG me. If what you say is God’s Law, you better get out of my way cause I tend to mimic the people I am around, and while I’m normally whatever, you best be prepared for me to get SASSAY. (Oh Geeze did I just write that. Oh. yes.) In any case. It’s true. If you are obstinate and rude and think you’re God’s gift to this fine world, then you’re about to get a reality check from me, I don’t care about you. And I can do with out. Thanks.

I highly don’t like being corrected. I don’t like people who are younger than me talking like they know more than I do. It may be fact, but I’m elderly and infirmed,  so be polite to your elders. If I say the sun circles around mars you best just plaster a smile on your face and say “Sure it does” and then snicker to your friends about how unhip I am. Also– FYI in case you didn’t get the 411, I don’t like being on the outside of stuff. It drives me mad when people get together and get into groups and I am, for whatever reason, naturally left on the outside. I sometimes don’t mind so much– but sometimes being out with people at a party or whatever is my only adult interaction– and I get annoyed when that’s taken away. Let’s face it. Don’t play a game that takes 6 people when you have 18 people at a party. Not nice! (I’m looking at you In laws. I didn’t want this to be rude, it’s coming across that way, so i figured I”d man up and just say it! haha.)

I’ve gotten kind of tired of reeling myself in on my blog posts. It felt unfulfilling and unnatural for a long time. I like writing as me. That last post– well it was AWESOME to write. It felt GOOD. And while I try to abstain from feeling marvelous, I am tired of just doing “oooh I’m such an awful mommy” posts. Good Lord. So I thought I’d let my brain walk on the wild side since my commends are just bursting with commentary and I just don’t know what to do with them all. I will have to purchase as second server! *le sigh*

I think that would require me purchasing the first one, wouldn’t it?

What was I saying again?

RIGHT awkward. I think this post is evidence of that. Some people would directly come out and say “Hey that bugs me” But even in blog form I wriggle around it like a fish, or a worm on a hook.

Huh. A lot of fishing references there.

Anyway. I am not direct. I am meandering, and I try to be as funny as I can until I get there, and then I break into tears because I feel like a horrible person. BUT — (OPRAH AHAH MOMENT HERE) I am not a horrible person because some things bother me. I think everyone has pet peeves (See previous post!) and maybe I have more than others, but everyone is different, and that’s what makes us special. I think that needs a new word. We can’t all be special. Some people are similar. It’s like having over 1 trillion character traits. You’ll find something in common with some people. Similarities, but no one is exactly the same. I’ll think on the word Idea.

I think My general problem is that I do think I’m a terrible person. Not like Godzilla terrible (OOH NO GOZILLA!) more like… a Hot mess. Like when you judge Britney spears for being a bad mom? That kind of terrible. Like people Judge me as terrible. Here’s a few of my terrible Secrets: I yell. A lot. Like I remember as a Kid that my dad yelled, and I thought it was terrifying. I yell like that. I remember as a teen thinking “Oh I don’t have a temper” but really I just didn’t care about anything. I care about too much now. Stuff matters. Like bills and clothing children and food and what not. It’s stressful stuff. Scott has the right attitude which is “It matters, but we’re not homeless, or about threadbare” (we so aren’t) “So just relax, things will be ok.” And it’s true. I just have some sort of hyper active… worry node in my brain. Do people have those? Worry nodes? I think I have 20. I will proudly admit that I have not hyperventilated since December (of 2010) and I’m dang proud of it. I don’t like to wear my anxiety as some sort of shame. I realize usually, about 10 min after my freak out, that I”m being ridiculous. I have checks in place now. Mostly that when I feel a freak out coming on, i ask scott to tell me I’ll be ok. I usually am. Occasionally. All the time.

I am however, Not freak out free, I had one like… 5 days ago? When I have no adult to keep me in check, I go BEZERKER and scream a bunch. It’s embarrassing in public. I wish like Mary Tyler Moore should do like a PSA on irrational rage bursts or something. {To be momentarily serious, My rages usually involve a lot of screaming, then taper off into crying, and then a small hate spiral… or large, for those who don’t know what a hate spiral is, I just repeat in my head how much I hate myself, and find reasons, in a big circle, or a little one. No violence except some child like foot stomping that usually hurts my foot. Seriousness over, for the moment} I’ll full on admit that I have Issues. I am like the poster girl for issues. I wish I could find a medication that I could shoot into my arm instead of a pill. Cause really — I can’t do pills. I’m Just… Too spazzy for pills. Too much! I forget them, and that just causes me to go off kilter and it kind of triggers the angry shame stuff I mentioned before. It’s like A) Take a pill and feel ok sometimes unless you forget to take it for a day, and then Go nuts and then start back up, etc etc.  or B) just try and not go nuts.  I prefer the second one.

Geeze. how did I get all blah about down stuff? Back to your regularly scheduled whackiness.

Mean while, I will keep Living my little cinderella life (Ie working/being a mom) and hope that someday my “prince” (not working) will come along 😉 someday!

Derringer Meryl [ Don’t you judge me!] Out

I have been updating my music list, I try and think every day of a favorite song. There hasn’t been much lately on the radio I love…. which makes me feel old. At the same time I know that music seems to go through cycles of me liking it and not liking it.

I love Weezer’s “My Best Friend” but I am finding myself in much more of an Elenor Rigby mood (AKA, all the Lonely people)

One thing that has been hard in all of my pregnancies is my depression. Everyone jokes about how you can be laughing one minute and sobbing the next. It’s quite true… I have pretty volitile emotions in the first place so to add (as one might say) insult to injury, I get to pump up the hormones and just watch as my stability is questionable.

I try to think of myself as an adult person. I try to act as adult as I can, I often find that acting is all that it is. It doesn’t matter what age you’re at, mean and spiteful things still sting as much at 24 as they did at any other age. You’d think at some point you get used to the way life is, that the world is mean and bitter (just as much as it can be kind and beautiful) but the thing is, you don’t. I find myself hoping for the best in people and just holding out until I’m ultimately dissapointed as I try and try to draw people into me, i somehow (and in the most unintentional of manners) turn them away. I feel like a joke. I have such a deep paranoia and anxiety in me that it inhibits social interaction in a healthy manner. I feel trapped in my mind, in a horribly exposed kind of way. I feel cut off, and lonely…

I feel like I should stop… trying so hard. Scott says I hold myself to ridiculous standards that no one can meet.  I just want to be the best me I can be.
Derringer Meryl [down] Out

I think about wrting into postsecret

I never do. I wonder on occasion if each person I interact with each day is carrying a secret not unlike myself.

I know for a fact that many people have secrets that are deep and dark that make their smiles during the day hollow and fake. That the secret they keep makes them wake up each day and have to reconcile who they are and their place in this world.

Some people’s secrets make them feel like they have a badge of honor, invisible as it is. When really they just can’t see that everyone else is wearing one too.

Some people are those who are the creator of the secret– some people are the secret keeper, or even a victim of the secret.  Some people read too much into their secret, sometimes people take their secret too lightly.  Some people feel bound by their secret, and some people are so freed and satisfied by their secret, that telling anyone– is insanity. Selfish.

I think the main reason I will never write into post secret is that I cannot bear for anyone to know. Even annonymously, I fear telling might shake the universe in such a way that God might turn his head away in shame.

So i”m being dramatic. I’m trying to flex my literary muscles.  I haven’t written seriously, since before I met Scott. I find little or no motivation.  I wish I could find it again. I feel like I’m searching in a pitch black cave for a diamond. While my writing is no where near as valuable to the world, it is even more so valuable than  that to me.  Some days I feel so inspired I Might burst from holding it in. But there is this dam holding all of my creativity back. At it’s root I would call it fear. I wouldn’t call myself in High School any where near fearless, but my writing was. I wrote my passion, I was inspired and introspective. Now any spare time is not spent self reflecting, but cleaning, cooking, and care-taking. Life marches on. I don’t regret a minute of it, but i miss it.

On my way back to work this afternoon I saw a cyclist not obeying stop signs. I have to say I… people like that don’t necissarily DESERVE to be hit by a car (by no means)  But if you’re going to break the rules don’t bitch when it happens!

I’m waiting for a ebay bid to end. C’mon 8PM!  I’m really excited.

off to finish work!

Derringer Meryl [thursday is one of the best days] Out

I think… I think no one really understands what it’s like to be a newly wed until you experience it.

Call me a cocky Teenager, but I thought things would work out better than this for Scott and I.

It’s hard. Being a newlywed is hard. Leaving my old job, is hard. Katy asked today why I was leaving– and I told her, that it was just time for me to go. (Instead of my natural reaction to tell her that she was screwing me over) It is. It’s time to put childish things away. Scott and I are trying to deal with these things as much as we can.

The people haven’t called back about our financing for the car yet. I start my new job in about a week. We have bills, and the threat of Bankruptcy looming over our heads. It feels like this basement sucks us back in every time we try to leave. In the darkness here– I find comfort knowing that God lives, and that I’m going to learn something from this annoyance. I turn my music on, and I listen, hoping to hear something that’s going to inspire me.

Something that’s going to keep me going. Keep me from being even more exhausted than I am at this moment. Someday, the laundry will be done. Someday, The bed will be made. someday, we won’t live here anymore. Someday, i’ll feel better.

Someday, we’ll look at this and laugh.

Someday, things will be okay.

Derringer Meryl [Right?] Out