A Beginning

When I started writing this post today, I promised myself that no matter how much I didn't want to, when I was done that I would actually print publish, instead of adding it to the rather large collection of drafts that I seem to have acquired in the last few weeks. This post is probably going to require that you pack a lunch, and make a day out of it. Just so you know.

Where do I begin?

That's a really good question. One that I don't have the answer to. I used to think I did, but now, well now I'm not so sure.

Today, well let's face it, assuming we are being honest here, for a long time I've been...well for lack of a better term; lost. And miserable.

Sure, (just so my husband and parents don't panic) there have been times where there has been contentment, happiness, pure, unadulterated joy, but those moments, they are so rare anymore that it's hard to see them at the moment, it's days later that I realize how perfect those moments were. About how at that particular moment everything clicked, everything fit. Everything was perfect.

Some days I hate that I have that Type A personality. That everything has to be perfect. I honestly wish I could be more go with the flow. That things like C's and burnt chicken didn't hurt me. Because realistically, who cries over C's. Most people are happy to pass and move on. I'm happy to pass, but those C's just made me feel like a failure. Like I was less, and add that to everything else, it's been down right hard to get enthusiastic about a whole new set of classes that start tomorrow. For the first time in my life, I'm not excited about school. In fact, I dread tomorrow with the same amount of passion as I do/did with having to go to funerals, memorial services of the people that I love.

I guess, since my posting has been sporadic, this post is going to be too. Sorry.

I'm so unhappy with so many areas of my life, that some days, it's all I can do to go to work and come home and fix dinner without bursting into tears a half a dozen times. And right now, I feel so powerless to do anything about it.

I've also discovered that there are things that are annoying me worse than I thought that they were. Like the issues with my inlaws. As much as I hate to admit it, even to myself, it bothers me more than I wanted to realize. I have slowly allowed it, along with other issues to eat away at my self-esteem and my self-worth. I realized that a few days ago. See, I'm the peacemaker, when everybody is pissed off at each other, it's usually me that jumps in and tries to smooth the ruffled feathers and get everyone back to being happy again. I can't do that this time. Simply because those involved see me as part of the problem...probably won't see me as the solution if I try to "fix" things like I always have. Plus it's hard knowing that the grandmother-in-law that loved you and cared for you, can also turn against you when it suits her purposes. This is one of those things that I can't fix, and letting go of that has been nearly impossible, but I realized that I'm going to have to let it go if I want to reclaim my life, and myself in the process.

I was sick the week before Christmas. Thanks to the stomach cramps that were purely the devil at work, and barfing up some of the foulest smelling stuff possible, a trip to the doctor was prompted, because I didn't want my gallbladder or any other internal organ to be planing it's untimely escape and me be oblivious. I felt so bad that I even called in sick to work. For the 2nd time in 3 years. (The first time being when I was in the hospital for the equivalent of dysentery.)

:sigh: I can't believe I'm about to put this out there on the internet for all the world to see. It's no surprise to the people who know me and read this blog, but to the rest of the world, it might be or then again maybe not. I'm overweight. Not just pleasantly plump, but if I were to be at the top of my healthy weight range, I would have lost a person. Like a 154ish pound person. It just hurts my heart to type that out. Anyway, back to the doctor. She ordered blood work to make sure that there weren't any other problems as well as checking insulin, glucose, and cholesterol. I'm pleased with the cholesterol numbers, some of the categories weren't were they should be, but it's a big improvement over where they were when she first did that blood work a few years ago. My good cholesterol was through the roof (once again, my theory that the low fat/preservatives stuff played an issue might actually have some truth here). However, my insulin was too high. 22 and it needs to be 20 or less. It's not a big concern, and it's not even considered pre-diabetic. But it was definitely a wake-up call. One that I didn't care to get. But apparently I needed a health scare to get my head wrapped around the fact that loosing weight was no longer my choice. It wasn't a should anymore, it was now a must.

sucky grades of last semester and WHAM! (Insert failure here).

School. Like I said previously, I dread tomorrow. I can't find a single shred of excitement. Just dread. Lots and lots of dread. See, even though no one else thinks so, I failed last semester. My first semester was hard, it was tons of work, there were tears, there were lots of days of constant work and where I was pretty sure I was going to drown. But I pulled it all out with A's and B's. Made the dean's list. Then my girlfriend tells me that it's not a big deal, she did it too. No body cared. Then last semester, oh my goodness. Last semester. I hated my classes, I hated my professors. I hated with a passion. So my grades suffered because I was unhappy. Hopefully I didn't make that mistake this semester too. I'm taking classes that I was excited about when I signed up for them. Sure, there's a few, like statistics that I'm not looking forward too. It's math, it's hard to get excited about math. But the accounting, marketing, science and history classes I was actually looking forward to them.

Yet right now, I can't get that giant F off of my forehead. No, not for Freak, but for Failure. Those 3 C's are just eating away at me. I don't get C's. Period. I've only gotten C's in math classes, and that was always okay. I got C's in regular classes too. Spanish, Economics, and Business Calculus. But those 3 C's make me want to curl up into a ball in a corner and cry and not come out for 20 or 30 years. It makes me want to think, "you can't do this" "you are such an idiot" "who are you kidding" "you won't ever finish" "your just going to be a failure". Some days I succeed in telling that little voice to jump off a cliff, and other days, well, other days that little voice wins. And it takes another chunk of my self worth with it.

So where does that leave me?

Exactly where I am. I have convinced myself that I can do nothing right. I can't write, so why even attempt to write blog posts. Why even participate in 5 Question Friday, when I can't write, when I'm not really funny. I am so sure that I have annoyed some good friends of ours, who in a few short months have became more like family than friends. I'm so sure that I will never be able to lose weight that I'm just destined to be fat forever. I'm so sure that I'm going to fail all my classes. And I'm so sure that when I do, all these people are going to line up and tell me "I told you so".

And no, this isn't a ploy for the few people who still pop in and read my blog from time to time to give me some props about how great I am. Because let's face it, the posts that I wrote a year ago were a whole lot better than the garbage I've attempted to do over the last year. Those posts meant something, the posts now, not so much.

This was and is about being honest, with myself and with the few people who still pop in and read from time to time. It's about trying to dig out of this hole I have dug myself into. It's about trying to find me again, and not just the shell of the person I used to be. It's about trying to make peace with my life and move forward and rebuild the life I want and not look back in 6 months and think that I should have tried harder, like I seem to find myself doing constantly for the last year. I say that a lot to myself. I should have. I would really like to change that into I am or better yet, I did.

To the family and friends that will read this: I promise, I'm okay. I'm not crazy, I'm not contemplating suicide or anything wonky like that. I talked to the doctor about it when I went to see her 3 weeks ago. She said that it's a lot of things, but she doesn't think it's depression or anything like that. Frankly I don't either. I just think that the last year has held so many changes, so many things that are out of my control that I'm trying to find myself and my footing and let's face it my self worth and confidence again.

I'm not sure where that leaves me. Other than in need of a good couch and a crazy doctor. Okay, probably not really, but still. You never know. I realize that I always put me on the back burner. I typically take care of everyone else, and leave me for last, but that's just me. I just didn't realize that I've been doing it for so long that I've let myself take a back seat that I now think of myself as being less important than they are. Don't get my wrong, I still intend to take care of the people in my life that need to be taken care of, but at the same time, I'm adding my name to that list too. I'm a priority too. And if I want to be treated like one, perhaps the first step is in making myself a priority too.