Ever feel really sick to your stomach, nauseous but unable to expel? Those of us who at one time in our lives drank beyond excess can probably relate, also those of us who survived a horrible stomach virus can too. I personally can say I have been a member of both of those clubs and the worst part was not being able to BEGIN throwing up. A trick from the bulemics has helped me…stick your fingers down your throat and help open the flood gates. After a good puking I always felt better, until of course the next wave of nausea would set in, but it would usually be easier, no fingers necessary…just assume the position over the porcelain puke receptacle and nature would take it’s course. Once the “evil” was completely expelled, I always felt so much better. It was cathartic. So, I warn you “gentle readers” that I am using this blog as a “porcelain puke receptacle” for my mental and emotional nausea that has been plaguing me for a while now…Could I get a volunteer to hold my hair?
- I HATE MY HOUSE. I don’t like being IN my house. I have had many evil thoughts about my house. Why?
a) We purchased this thing in 1995 thinking that we could fix it up. Well, we ran into a couple of snags. Lack of skills and lack of funds. So, here we live in a constant state of looking under construction when in reality it is truly construction halted. I can not keep it clean to save my life. Between kids, pets, “construction”, lack of time and utter lack of excitement about the house…It is what I have come to call “the pit”. I have come to the point of wishing, longing if you will, to entertain in my house. It would solve some of my other issues (see below) but I can’t. The only people who are allowed in my house are my parents and friends that met me prior to 1995. They understand the REASON behind “the pit”. Thank God I have a feral dog or I would not have an excuse for people to not come over…Hope I get the house done before she dies. b) The location now sucks as well. It used to be a nice neighborhood. A couple of years ago some idiot sold part of a cornfield to allow another idiot to build some low rent apartments on the other side of the park. Then another city official idiot decided it would be a grand idea to destroy an ancient “creek” and another cornfield so that the apartment complex would have an east entrance…meaning they extended our street to the @$$ end of the complex. Now we live at the starting line of the Indy freaking 500. I used to enjoy sitting on my porch reading in the spring and summer…hunh, so much for that. The noise from the cars and the “music” emanating from them are quite the distraction, not to mention the undeserved wolf whistles and such from the testosterone loaded punks in the souped up pieces of crap that they drive…ever seen a rust bucket driving down the road with about $1000.00 invested in the rims, HUGE amps in the back seat…NO? That’s because they live in that apartment complex and only stay in my neighborhood.
c) There is nothing to do here anymore. The grocery stores are of the “minimalist” variety. The shopping centers all closed down. I have to drive to a different part of town if I want something as simple as a plain white T-Shirt. - I HATE MY TRUCK. We purchased the truck because it was a V8 with low miles. I am the type of person who will drive a vehicle until all that is left is frame, so a good strong engine is what I look for. I loved my truck. That was when gas was floating around $1.30 per gallon. Today it is $2.80 per gallon. Now it is my nemesis. I sink at least $120.00 in fuel in that thing every two weeks to go to work, take kids to and from school, grocery shop, attend meetings, attend services or serving opportunities at the church, and pick kids up from extra curricular opportunities. Notice there was no, drive to a friend’s house, go to a movie, dinner, lunch, beach, etc…you get the picture. I would sell it for a smaller car at this point, but I can not even GIVE my truck away…it has V8 ya know.
- I NEED MORE SUN TIME. I spent most of my early life living on the East coast where a beach was always minutes away. I am not a sun bunny, I burn and peel. I use SPF 60 and have still been known to burn. There is no tanning and golden complexion for me. I am still a fan of the sun, and I like it at the beach…very few bugs at the beach. I hate bugs. So when I want my sun, I do not want to be in woods, or grass where bugs spend their time. I want dry sand. The closest decent beaches around here are in Michigan…which takes me back to the reason I hate my truck.
- I CAN’T CONNECT. I am part of the connections team at work and I can not connect. It is not because I do not want to. I feel like I can’t. . I would love to go do lunch, dinner, movies, socializing in general with co-workers or friends but I always say that I cant. Lets see if I can work through why:
a) I can’t afford it. These things usually take money, and most of the time fuel since I won’t allow people to socialize at my house a.k.a. “the pit”
b) I don’t have time. I have a fully scheduled day and I have trouble asking people other than my husband to help with that schedule. Something as simple as picking up the kids from school, or
c) keeping an eye on Paige because God knows I can’t leave her with Breanna for extended periods of time without World Wars 3 through 6 breaking out. PLUS I can not get past the “I decided to have them they are my responsibility” mindset. I hate asking people to watch my kids. Dave and I don’t have the type of parents that knock down your door demanding to take our kids and spend time with them. They already had grandkids before ours came along and the novelty has worn off.
d) Guilt. If on the off chance all the planets are aligned…meaning I have money and time…Dave and I don’t spend enough time together as a couple. Now he is home every night but we are always focused on other things. We are aware of the fact that we should set a date night, we just can not seem to get it on the calendar. So, I feel guilty leaving him with the kids. Why should I have all the fun? That is my feeling.
e) Independence / Fear …you decide. Some of you know that by the time I was a freshman in high school, I had been to 10 different schools in 3 different states. That means I had left a lot of friends. I think after 7th grade, I stopped REALLY trying. I have A friend from high school that I still speak to. Though we have been known to go for EXTENDED periods of time without contact. I can not name too many that were in my high school class. I think there is a part of me that is still afraid of trying to make friends and another part of me that is convinced that I did fine this long without too many so why do I need more? Plus, can you call someone your friend but then not want them in your home…a.k.a. “the pit”. Everyone I am drawn to or seem to “connect” with have these fabulous homes in fabulous neighborhoods (fabulous in comparison to mine). I feel like a fraud. - THE FUNK. Every once in a while I am victim to what I call The Funk. No it is not PMS, it is not that often and the timing is wrong. I am always aware The Funk has arrived and therefore I TRY not to talk to people, unfortunately because I am an otherwise approachable person – people try to talk to me. Usually if you are a co-worker, acquaintance, client, or general person on the street I can veil my “temporary contempt for all human beings” because the interactions tend to be brief. However, if The Funk strikes at home, and it usually does…My poor spouse and occasionally my kids are collateral damage of the war between me and The Funk. If left alone, I can usually win the battle with The Funk. Unfortunately, I am very “internally attentive” and don’t respond well to external input so the slightest comment or request or what The Funk refers to as “unnecessary distractions and demands” and I turn into the troll that lives under the bridge. Unfortunately, there are people who do not understand the way this war between me and The Funk works so they reciprocate my response with a harsh tone and attitude. {Which sets loose my “PET PEEVE” alarm. I hate it when people do to a person something that has been done to them, ONLY because that person did it to them first. This kind of response is, in my opinion, childish. The offender should be dealt with by choosing a better time and confronting them in a calm manner when both parties have settled down. A behavior can not be corrected if the person has not been made aware of it and given the opportunity to correct it.} So, during The Funk, if people respond to my behavior with their own snappy retorts my blood pressure rises, my heart rate accelerates, and my blood boils to the point of eruption… which can be a verbal tongue lashing, or storming off in a fit of tears, or BOTH. If people would learn to ignore me and The Funk while it is happening and deal with us once it has passed – life for all would be better. I am NOT saying walk on egg shells, I literally want to be ignored as if I were not present. Do not ask me to do anything; do not speak to me unless I speak to you. I am always aware of my behavior but can not necessarily control it. Once the war is over…I am always the first to approach my victims and beg forgiveness. I can only think that The Funk is a side effect of the culmination of and extreme awareness of all of the above things that are frustrating me.
All of this leaves me with quite the Stasi Eldredge, Captivating complex: Too much and yet not enough. I do want to note that I am working toward improving upon these issues. There is a light at the end of this long tunnel…I can see it…maybe that is my problem, I can see it and I am becoming impatient.
Feel free to FLUSH at anytime now.
Just Venting...or something like it 