~Take Me or Leave Me~
~Hello, world. Its just me again. I am sorry if you are an avid follower and I am not as avid about blogging. I truly believe that when I don't blog its because there is something inside of me that I am pushing back but I don't realize. Something that is too honest and real to face so like a person who suspects they won't like what they see, they keep away, far away, from any mirror or object that might threaten to show a reflection. When I used to see a psychologist and there was a day that I didn't want to go, my Mother would say that was day I absolutely should. Mom reasoned that something was bothering me that I didn't want to face but that by pushing it away I was doing more to hurt myself.
~So, here I am..I feel kinda empty of anything to share, like my mind is sleeping, but instead of doing some mindless face book gaming or immersing my brain into the television I am pushing myself to write, so bear with me.
~I am thinking how sad it must be to not be a person who can sit and look into my own head to see what emotion means what, what reaction was brought on by what, when things started working just so. In other words, there are so many people in the world who go day to day never stopping to manage the mess that is piling in their mind, never trying to organize and figure out their feelings. I make it sound like an art nut it isn't. Its not as if I pick a time of day, pull out my thoughts like papers then start organizing them into file like objects. It's more like a thought or a feeling hanging on longer than others, an emotion that I should have shook off but didn't so now I need to dissect it, look at it, figure out why its still bothering me. I do it so easily, like an old habit, that I don't know anymore that I am doing anything. I may be watching a movie with the family when something reminds me of something someone said that might have hurt me. Suddenly while my eyes seem to be watching the movie, I am really only seeing the occurrence as it was, (or, really, how I perceived it,)
~See, there it is, the word, the hook~Perceived. You and I could received the same compliment-for instance-someone saying that they like our shirts-and many times what I take away from the statement is a whole lot different than what you might.(Of course I say that assuming that you , too, aren't a fellow-dissector.) I don't want to do it, picking apart mere words, I want to take it as simply and innocently as it was most likely given but I somehow can't. Is it that pesky self-doubt I told you about in my last blog that causes me to doubt other people's words? Or is it that I don't trust the person saying it. Well, sometimes it may be the person saying it, sure...We learn in lives who is the, -ahem-"butt-kissers" , the people who say nice things just to get us to like them with either good or tricky expectations-and then there are the people who are just nice and want to be that way...I tend to be the one who wants to always say something positive to every one...Anyway, sometimes its the person we don't trust yet when its a stranger or someone who we can't read their intentions why do I almost always pick apart the compliment?
~Because of self-doubt.Period. I have so much of it sometimes that I ruin very-well- meaning people's compliments by disagreeing or looking at them like they just laid a egg. I have learned to pretend I believe them and just say thank you. Its for the best either way.
~Tonight though I am thinking of the people who don't look into what others say, don't distrust other's words and simply go day by day pretty much believing what they hear. Is ignorance bliss? If I am telling one of those people how great their purple shirt looks with their green pants but I am really lying does it really change their lives to be able to walk away and take apart what I said, analyze it compared to what my eyes and motions were saying....Find out in the end that I loathe their color palate? No, its not for the best. Unless they are going to live basing their own egos and self-worth on what others think, it doesn't mean crap.
Sure, there are still days that Mom's death is as real and painful as well as suddenly emotionally recent as yesterday when its really been over a year. Still, I have come a long way from the days of waking up crying after a night of crying, suddenly in the middle of a movie or discussion wanting to scream and bawl, forgetting for a moment she is gone and finding the phone in my hands, wanting to hide in my room under the covers. Once in a while the reality of Mom's death hits me like a train but its coming less and less now. If I hadn't dealt with it like I did i imagine I would be a blubbering mess at any moment and that it all would have been harder and much longer to get over.
~I fear all of that for Dad but I cannot fix him. Without getting into the whole story, Dad has chosen to be where he is for a reason. I cannot drag him home, I cannot Make him care or show his love for me or any of his Grandchildren. I remind my kids that their Papa is ill, that he loves them very very much but that his illness keeps him from being able to show it or spend time with them. Yes, it is sad. As an adult I don't get it, can you imagine how it must feel as a kid??
~Anyway, how does it feel to be normal, to go day to day dealing with life but not having to deal with yourself ruin relationships and people's opinions of you because you are, like me. analytic of everything that is said, thought and done around you??? It's so exhausting to be "on" all the time, to have my mind whirling uncontrollably with so many thoughts and ideas...Even in sleep...
~Anyone who really loves me puts up with it and has found away to not take my own self-doubt personally. Anyone who is really my friend doesn't make light of my issues but also doesn't take it all too seriously. I am me. That's it, take me or leave me. If I try to change to make you, him, her, anyone like me, its not change, its all a lie. Somewhere in me I am still me, whirling, analyzing and coo-coo but the real friends love me for it...
Stacy J. Roosa
5/11/2010
11:18pm
~So, here I am..I feel kinda empty of anything to share, like my mind is sleeping, but instead of doing some mindless face book gaming or immersing my brain into the television I am pushing myself to write, so bear with me.
~I am thinking how sad it must be to not be a person who can sit and look into my own head to see what emotion means what, what reaction was brought on by what, when things started working just so. In other words, there are so many people in the world who go day to day never stopping to manage the mess that is piling in their mind, never trying to organize and figure out their feelings. I make it sound like an art nut it isn't. Its not as if I pick a time of day, pull out my thoughts like papers then start organizing them into file like objects. It's more like a thought or a feeling hanging on longer than others, an emotion that I should have shook off but didn't so now I need to dissect it, look at it, figure out why its still bothering me. I do it so easily, like an old habit, that I don't know anymore that I am doing anything. I may be watching a movie with the family when something reminds me of something someone said that might have hurt me. Suddenly while my eyes seem to be watching the movie, I am really only seeing the occurrence as it was, (or, really, how I perceived it,)
~See, there it is, the word, the hook~Perceived. You and I could received the same compliment-for instance-someone saying that they like our shirts-and many times what I take away from the statement is a whole lot different than what you might.(Of course I say that assuming that you , too, aren't a fellow-dissector.) I don't want to do it, picking apart mere words, I want to take it as simply and innocently as it was most likely given but I somehow can't. Is it that pesky self-doubt I told you about in my last blog that causes me to doubt other people's words? Or is it that I don't trust the person saying it. Well, sometimes it may be the person saying it, sure...We learn in lives who is the, -ahem-"butt-kissers" , the people who say nice things just to get us to like them with either good or tricky expectations-and then there are the people who are just nice and want to be that way...I tend to be the one who wants to always say something positive to every one...Anyway, sometimes its the person we don't trust yet when its a stranger or someone who we can't read their intentions why do I almost always pick apart the compliment?
~Because of self-doubt.Period. I have so much of it sometimes that I ruin very-well- meaning people's compliments by disagreeing or looking at them like they just laid a egg. I have learned to pretend I believe them and just say thank you. Its for the best either way.
~Tonight though I am thinking of the people who don't look into what others say, don't distrust other's words and simply go day by day pretty much believing what they hear. Is ignorance bliss? If I am telling one of those people how great their purple shirt looks with their green pants but I am really lying does it really change their lives to be able to walk away and take apart what I said, analyze it compared to what my eyes and motions were saying....Find out in the end that I loathe their color palate? No, its not for the best. Unless they are going to live basing their own egos and self-worth on what others think, it doesn't mean crap.
Sure, there are still days that Mom's death is as real and painful as well as suddenly emotionally recent as yesterday when its really been over a year. Still, I have come a long way from the days of waking up crying after a night of crying, suddenly in the middle of a movie or discussion wanting to scream and bawl, forgetting for a moment she is gone and finding the phone in my hands, wanting to hide in my room under the covers. Once in a while the reality of Mom's death hits me like a train but its coming less and less now. If I hadn't dealt with it like I did i imagine I would be a blubbering mess at any moment and that it all would have been harder and much longer to get over.
~I fear all of that for Dad but I cannot fix him. Without getting into the whole story, Dad has chosen to be where he is for a reason. I cannot drag him home, I cannot Make him care or show his love for me or any of his Grandchildren. I remind my kids that their Papa is ill, that he loves them very very much but that his illness keeps him from being able to show it or spend time with them. Yes, it is sad. As an adult I don't get it, can you imagine how it must feel as a kid??
~Anyway, how does it feel to be normal, to go day to day dealing with life but not having to deal with yourself ruin relationships and people's opinions of you because you are, like me. analytic of everything that is said, thought and done around you??? It's so exhausting to be "on" all the time, to have my mind whirling uncontrollably with so many thoughts and ideas...Even in sleep...
~Anyone who really loves me puts up with it and has found away to not take my own self-doubt personally. Anyone who is really my friend doesn't make light of my issues but also doesn't take it all too seriously. I am me. That's it, take me or leave me. If I try to change to make you, him, her, anyone like me, its not change, its all a lie. Somewhere in me I am still me, whirling, analyzing and coo-coo but the real friends love me for it...
Stacy J. Roosa
5/11/2010
11:18pm
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