EXPLODING... (know that sometimes these post out of order - I'm not bi-polar). I gotta meet a gal after my own heart. Speaks my language. Understands my crazy. DJ and I went up to SunValley to see.... wait for it..... GLENNON DOYLE MELTON! Now I have been following Glennon since she told me to stop the damn Carpe Diem and be real. That was 5 years ago, shortly after having Poppy Mae. To say that she got me is a total understatement. This lady was me - minus the addiction, Lyme, Florida, getting pregnant etc.... take away all that surface/environment stuff she gets me. I feel like I have a conversation with her every time she writes. I wanna do the whole... I KNOW... RIGHT! In my head we laugh and I comment something and we crack up and the deepness is so REAL. I feel like she is speaking right to me.
Anyway... she was speaking in Sun valley at a Wellness Festival and I freaking jumped at this opportunity to meet her. This is the closest she has ever been to me (4 hours away) and I was not going to let this chance go.
Now begins the embarrassing truths. I saw on IG that she was in IDAHO so obviously I ask all my other event friends if they know anyone in Sun valley - Strike One. So next obvious step is to stalk her on all available forms ie.. Instagram Tagging, Email, Facebook posting. I started out slow.... post a pic of us in the car saying where we are headed and who we are going to see. Then one of DJ & me in front of a Sun Valley sign saying we are here- Let's meet! No reply, so day of desperation - Maybe we will "run" into you Glennon, and lastly I'm here with the Dt Dr Pepper and your book - like a real bad version of you Got Mail with the book and the rose. Still no reply so as a last resort I just wait outside her presentation room.
Did I mention DJ and I ran/walked 6 miles that morning after nothing for like EVER!!!! Bad back - too much sun - not enough water and food led to a pretty intense migraine. We head to the front desk to grab some medicine and I heard squeals and I knew.... I knew she was there. I walked over to confirm and scampered back to tell DJ. He shooed me to go back and talk to her. I tried. I really tried, but I couldn't! I wanted perfection. I wanted to be AWESOME. I wanted her to KNOW it was me (promise I'm not a stalker). I took a picture of her though a mirror and then one of her walking away with.... CRAIG! Yes, Husband was there too.
I gabbed DJ explained the headache had vanished and we walked back to the room. She was gone. I didn't chase. I hugged my book (her book) and looked straight ahead whenever I wasn't looking sideways. Then she turned. She was walking back. She was heading my way. I WILL NOT STARE! I looked sideways and she saw me (and her book) and came and said Hi. Ok I have no idea what I said. Lots of I really like you. Thank You. You get me. I have lobsters. I'm a reckless truth teller. I don't carpe anything and other such nonsense PROVING that I am her #1 fan - WHAT THE????? My head was saying Who in the HELL have you just turned into? All I can her is my old mentor Mindy Benson saying - You do not get giddy in front of the talent. You do not say you love them, No AUTOGRAPHS! Keep your crazy to your self. You are there to make them feel safe and normal! TOTAL FAIL. I had a super fan inside that could not be contained. It is so great in my mind it's too hard to put into words, but seems like I had her attention - heck I even got a hug. I even got to talk to Craig and witness a parenting fail which made me realize the reality of the situation.
She was gracious - Lovely and of goo report - I seek after these things ;). I got a seat right in front so I could be right in her line of sight. 6 and left center (thank you theater degree). I laughed, I cried, I thought. I FELT!!! Her offerings were beautiful. Her responses were thoughtful and her presence was truth. I got a signature on my personal book full of little hands and dates. I even had Craig sign it because let's be honest, his story is in there as well, and he showed up.
I'm not sure how people that don't know each other can see and complete each other. I don't really believe in love at first sight but I do believe in Binding the Souls of Sisters and I feel bound to Glennon. She sees me even though she doesn't know/remember me. I see myself in her and perhaps that is enough. All we want it is to be seen and to see.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Keeping It Together...
I'm on my first family vacation in 6 months. I have painfully planned fun - excitmment - food - amusement - clothing. I have played it all out in my head for 3 weeks since I knew we "got the condo." So far this is how it has went.
Prep - CRAPPY! I yellled at the girls on Saturday more times than I could count. I spanked Gable for the first time ever. My house was a particular disaster that my parents had walked through. I still was not packed and there were people to see, Egg hunts to go to, and smiles to put on. Whenever I say the feared words... "I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS... I CAN'T DO MORE!" it all comes crashing down.
It's dumb really because I'm still standing there under it all still arms outstretched trying to catch everything I'm pulling down on top of my. Getting hurt - throwing things here and there - Pulling more down pushing people away and pulling them into the mess all at the same time. It's absurd. It makes no sense. It's damaging. It's deflating to me and so harmful for those around me.
Why am I trying to keep everything together? Puzzles suck when they are all put together right? Why do I want the flawless complexion. I honestly spent 20 minutes in the wal-mart isle trying to find facewash - wipes - lotion and anything that will make me feel better about myself. Did it work? I did find a nice clinique knock off lotion while MR. Gable crawled all over me - threw his ball into the shelving knocking everything over like bowling pins and of course the worker lady (who I went to school with) just happened to be walking by so I felt obligated to straighten it all up while refraining from strangling the little one who continued to knock more down at the other end of the isle. Have I mentioned he DOES NOT stay in the cart and will climb out with or without someone there to catch/help him?
So Why am I so afraid of the falling boxes? Why can't I just watch them fall, walk over to them, look at it, and simply either leave it because its too heavy to put back or if necessary just put it back in its place with out yelling all holy hell at everyone within listening distance.
I complain about my hands being so full and my back breaking from everything yet I continue to keep up the facade that its all in place. I'm the first one to tell everyone that I don't have it together. I don't want to be on their pedestal but I stand percariously on my own. IT's Bull Shit and I know it. I need to be ok with all the flawed, perfectly imperfect parts of myself and then maybe I can be ok with the same things in others. I NEED desperatly to fully love those around me. I LOVE them up to their flaws and then I halt in my tacks and put their flaws in my back pocket to pull out when I'm feeling melicious, jealous or, insecure and pull it out to feel better about me, but I can't love others until I love myself.
I still remember 7th grade health when Maslow's hiercy of needs was introduced. It is the only method or formula I remember from 7th grade but I am still stuck in the middle. Unable to get to the top becasue I can't love me. I look for things and people to love me but the cannot fill the holes long enough to keep me satisfied.
Time to re-find and re-defind who I am. Time to accept larger than average calves and stop trying to fit into 15" circumfrances and calling it comfortable. Time to accept others at the tarnished, beat up items I pickup at the DI and love them as is instead of constantly trying to paint them. Enough is enough and I'm too tired of being frustrated and prickly. Soft and smushy is who I wanna be. Don't need to pretend.
Prep - CRAPPY! I yellled at the girls on Saturday more times than I could count. I spanked Gable for the first time ever. My house was a particular disaster that my parents had walked through. I still was not packed and there were people to see, Egg hunts to go to, and smiles to put on. Whenever I say the feared words... "I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS... I CAN'T DO MORE!" it all comes crashing down.
It's dumb really because I'm still standing there under it all still arms outstretched trying to catch everything I'm pulling down on top of my. Getting hurt - throwing things here and there - Pulling more down pushing people away and pulling them into the mess all at the same time. It's absurd. It makes no sense. It's damaging. It's deflating to me and so harmful for those around me.
Why am I trying to keep everything together? Puzzles suck when they are all put together right? Why do I want the flawless complexion. I honestly spent 20 minutes in the wal-mart isle trying to find facewash - wipes - lotion and anything that will make me feel better about myself. Did it work? I did find a nice clinique knock off lotion while MR. Gable crawled all over me - threw his ball into the shelving knocking everything over like bowling pins and of course the worker lady (who I went to school with) just happened to be walking by so I felt obligated to straighten it all up while refraining from strangling the little one who continued to knock more down at the other end of the isle. Have I mentioned he DOES NOT stay in the cart and will climb out with or without someone there to catch/help him?
So Why am I so afraid of the falling boxes? Why can't I just watch them fall, walk over to them, look at it, and simply either leave it because its too heavy to put back or if necessary just put it back in its place with out yelling all holy hell at everyone within listening distance.
I complain about my hands being so full and my back breaking from everything yet I continue to keep up the facade that its all in place. I'm the first one to tell everyone that I don't have it together. I don't want to be on their pedestal but I stand percariously on my own. IT's Bull Shit and I know it. I need to be ok with all the flawed, perfectly imperfect parts of myself and then maybe I can be ok with the same things in others. I NEED desperatly to fully love those around me. I LOVE them up to their flaws and then I halt in my tacks and put their flaws in my back pocket to pull out when I'm feeling melicious, jealous or, insecure and pull it out to feel better about me, but I can't love others until I love myself.
I still remember 7th grade health when Maslow's hiercy of needs was introduced. It is the only method or formula I remember from 7th grade but I am still stuck in the middle. Unable to get to the top becasue I can't love me. I look for things and people to love me but the cannot fill the holes long enough to keep me satisfied.
Time to re-find and re-defind who I am. Time to accept larger than average calves and stop trying to fit into 15" circumfrances and calling it comfortable. Time to accept others at the tarnished, beat up items I pickup at the DI and love them as is instead of constantly trying to paint them. Enough is enough and I'm too tired of being frustrated and prickly. Soft and smushy is who I wanna be. Don't need to pretend.
Communication and Sleep
Who knows if I finished the last post, but who really cares right? So after an interesting meeting at work today and I have discovered two things. I am a natural communicator and a natural sleeper. Now you may think that these things cannot possibly go hand in hand but let me assure you that my talents in both areas are expounding.
After some very rough months and a complete breakdown I had to communicate my feelings about my current situation at work, and communicate I did. The final draft was almost 5 pages. I told you I can communicate - so much so I'm sure I'll be talking someones ear off and die while taking a breath. I had stayed up literally all night (sans 2 hours) typing it on my phone in the notes. We will worry about the carpal tunnel surgery bill later. I edited it - re-read it, critiqued it, read it to DJ (who always agrees with me), and then pressed send. After that I cried fearful tears knowing that what I just did could not be undone, but that my angst could not go on.
Today, almost 2 weeks later, this culminated in a meeting with the owner and my director. As they say all's well that ends well, and for me that means I was able to express my feelings, seek validation, ask for understanding, and requesting guidance. I still feel like I need all those things EVERY DAMN DAY! How sad is it for a 34 year old to need someone to say (and really mean) how are you doing? I like this! Excellent Job.. Let's try... Head this way... I want you to do this... and most of all the WHAT and WHY!
My poor parents. I'm sure I asked What and Why way too much. How did they survive me??? I still remember my first summer away at college and sitting for 2 hours simply talking - discussing - reflecting - responding. It was a THRILL I had never achieved. Now you gotta realize the people I was doing all this with were usually high - stoned - drunk and perhaps all 3 and there I was sober as cold Sunday morning, but it was REAL. I felt seen - validated - educated. Words are my thing. I think that is why I'm trying to outlet with this blog. I need them out of me. If I don't I build until I EXPLODE!
Here is my problem... I'm surrounded by beautiful little people who are still learning the beauty and power of words. I am answering their What and Why with no one to answer my own. Its tough to answer yourself because you cannot ever tell if you're on the right path or not. Others illuminate your path when you're stuck. This is a tricky thing for me. What to do? Read more - ya... I should actually read instead of listening, but this leads me to my next thing I seek desperately... SLEEP.
Every night (or nap) I listen to audio books. This has been my saving grace for the last 8 years. I listen to calm my mind- my nerves, focus my thoughts so I can empty everything out and rest. I use them to block out the breathing and not breathing of my new born babies, the knots in my stomach after vomit erupts, dull the coughing I cannot control in the other room, and the frustrations I feel to the guy sleeping soundly next to me.
Sleep is my medication right now. I used to work on 4-6 hours. I was EXCITED to get projects started and FINISHED. Now I think of how much sleep I have under my belt before I decide if I can start anything (still working on how to finish the many things). I evaluate my sleep ALL DAY LONG. Can I get up to workout? Did I get enough sleep to be a happy mom? Did I sleep enough to have enough energy to start painting? I'm too tired to bead jewelry today. Where do I start? Maybe I'll just sleep and see how I feel after that. It's killing me, my creativity, and my confidence because I am not doing what I think I should be doing.
AH I HATE THAT WORD Should- who says I should do anything. This internal voice of should of's is hurting me, and I have no one to share my coping words with. I am a natural talker but I have not talked to people enough to trust them with my words. I talk at people. Answer their questions in a general way, but never get to a safe zone of sharing. It's easier to just turn on Audible and listen away my internal voices and questions.
So for now maybe more sleep and more communication. Maybe I can sleep enough to listen to myself. Confident enough to do what that voice tells me to do. Brave enough to use my words before I turn into a vomitorium expelling everything bottled up inside.
After some very rough months and a complete breakdown I had to communicate my feelings about my current situation at work, and communicate I did. The final draft was almost 5 pages. I told you I can communicate - so much so I'm sure I'll be talking someones ear off and die while taking a breath. I had stayed up literally all night (sans 2 hours) typing it on my phone in the notes. We will worry about the carpal tunnel surgery bill later. I edited it - re-read it, critiqued it, read it to DJ (who always agrees with me), and then pressed send. After that I cried fearful tears knowing that what I just did could not be undone, but that my angst could not go on.
Today, almost 2 weeks later, this culminated in a meeting with the owner and my director. As they say all's well that ends well, and for me that means I was able to express my feelings, seek validation, ask for understanding, and requesting guidance. I still feel like I need all those things EVERY DAMN DAY! How sad is it for a 34 year old to need someone to say (and really mean) how are you doing? I like this! Excellent Job.. Let's try... Head this way... I want you to do this... and most of all the WHAT and WHY!
My poor parents. I'm sure I asked What and Why way too much. How did they survive me??? I still remember my first summer away at college and sitting for 2 hours simply talking - discussing - reflecting - responding. It was a THRILL I had never achieved. Now you gotta realize the people I was doing all this with were usually high - stoned - drunk and perhaps all 3 and there I was sober as cold Sunday morning, but it was REAL. I felt seen - validated - educated. Words are my thing. I think that is why I'm trying to outlet with this blog. I need them out of me. If I don't I build until I EXPLODE!
Here is my problem... I'm surrounded by beautiful little people who are still learning the beauty and power of words. I am answering their What and Why with no one to answer my own. Its tough to answer yourself because you cannot ever tell if you're on the right path or not. Others illuminate your path when you're stuck. This is a tricky thing for me. What to do? Read more - ya... I should actually read instead of listening, but this leads me to my next thing I seek desperately... SLEEP.
Every night (or nap) I listen to audio books. This has been my saving grace for the last 8 years. I listen to calm my mind- my nerves, focus my thoughts so I can empty everything out and rest. I use them to block out the breathing and not breathing of my new born babies, the knots in my stomach after vomit erupts, dull the coughing I cannot control in the other room, and the frustrations I feel to the guy sleeping soundly next to me.
Sleep is my medication right now. I used to work on 4-6 hours. I was EXCITED to get projects started and FINISHED. Now I think of how much sleep I have under my belt before I decide if I can start anything (still working on how to finish the many things). I evaluate my sleep ALL DAY LONG. Can I get up to workout? Did I get enough sleep to be a happy mom? Did I sleep enough to have enough energy to start painting? I'm too tired to bead jewelry today. Where do I start? Maybe I'll just sleep and see how I feel after that. It's killing me, my creativity, and my confidence because I am not doing what I think I should be doing.
AH I HATE THAT WORD Should- who says I should do anything. This internal voice of should of's is hurting me, and I have no one to share my coping words with. I am a natural talker but I have not talked to people enough to trust them with my words. I talk at people. Answer their questions in a general way, but never get to a safe zone of sharing. It's easier to just turn on Audible and listen away my internal voices and questions.
So for now maybe more sleep and more communication. Maybe I can sleep enough to listen to myself. Confident enough to do what that voice tells me to do. Brave enough to use my words before I turn into a vomitorium expelling everything bottled up inside.
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