Seriously. I don’t know WHAT is wrong with me lately. I cannot fall asleep until way too late and I feel tired constantly. I need to change up some shit. Bad habits, draining emotions, mundane routine and self bashing is significantly damaging me lately. When I am all dented, bandaged, bruised and weepy – I am not making for a very good mom, wife, daughter, writer…simply put – I suck. Some things need to change. If this is to be the Summer of Heather – which it was so declared (did you get the memo? It was pink) – I will have to get started on some required preparation. Fuzzy bat balls. Why can’t things just be easy??
Get Your Ass to SLEEP!!
I must fall asleep earlier. This watching TV until 12, 1 or 2 o’clock is just ridiculous. Charlie gets home at 8:30 and is asleep by 9:30. I am a night person. Always have been. I have often joked about my vampire status, but now that the blood suckers are so popular – I hate to be so relevant. I don’t know what the dealio is.
Clearly I am tired long before The Daily Show airs and once I am asleep I almost always stay asleep. It is almost like my body will not allow me to voluntarily close my eyes. I always end up passing out instead of purposely laying my head down in the dark and traveling into slumber land naturally. It makes me anxious. It is as if a part of me feels I will be missing something by going to sleep. Which is weird because I have always used that explanation for the reason why Cassidy never slept as a baby. She insisted on staying awake. Always. Even when still in the hospital- they had to roll her out of my room because she WOULD NOT SLEEP. And it lasted until just recently.
It is not as if my life is to exciting, interesting and appealing that I cannot seem to pull myself away. And quite frankly, my dreams rock. For real. If you are not jealous of my dream life, you should be. It is epic and fascinating and sometimes I wish I lived there. So, what is my deal? Fucking go to sleep already!!
Late Night Munchies
Night Eating Syndrome. Really? Screw you. Just leave that in my overfilled bag of neurosis please. I am hoping to get rid of some at my next rummage sale. The issue – pretty self explanatory. I eat at night. After everyone is asleep and I am finally relaxed, in bed and watching my programs (I have to say programs, I think my grandma said that and it’s funny) I want to munch. From salt to sweet to savory. I need it. Like crack. Like a big ole chocolaty pretzel crack rock. Yum. Am I am emotional eater? Sure. Who isn’t really? (You? Guess which finger I am displaying.) But I don’t know if that is it really.
I used to think it was because I didn’t eat much at all during the day. I mean, duh, right? But I have tried to eat healthily (LOTS of filling fiber) throughout the day and it doesn’t change much for my nightly gnashing. I still manage to get up for peanuts, granola bars and raisins. And it would be worse if I left yummier choices in the house – but I try not to because I know I have little to no self control.
Mama Bear Hibernation
I basically hibernate in my bedroom. It is my sanctuary. During the fall and winter months, our living room is SO cold. Vaulted ceiling with a skylight and I hate them. It feels like a friggin’ meat locker. My room, however, is cozy, warm, darkened with a nice TV. What more do I need?? I write in here, eat, watch TV (which I think I have mentioned now numerous times) everything really. No hot plate or fridge yet, however.
We live in a ranch style home, about 1300 sq feet. From my room I can hear everything and everyone/thing is steps away. So, I am not ignoring my family or neglecting them in any way. They will tell you – I am all too aware (to their dismay I am sure) of what is going on. They come in and out of my room just as it is the living room. So, its not that I feel guilty about it in THAT way. I think I know I need to make a move (literally…move my ass from the bed to the couch) because I get myself into these comfort zones which swallow me up and eventually I become anxious towards change. Even something as simple as where I hang out. So, just to be mentally healthy, I need to make little challenges to my mental ass routine.
Enough (Fat) is Enough!
Last year at this time I lost 30 pounds in about 3 months. It was necessary and I am so grateful to those who helped, Sparkpeople.com, and even myself. I have not been able to get passed that however. I will not feel comfortable with my weight until I am at least 10 pounds less than I am right now. That will put me pre-pregnancy weight. And it is not that I felt super confident then either…but I damn well should have. I never had a bangin’ bod. I was never stick thin. But I definitely would kill to have the body now that I had then (below is 2003).
This is about 142ish. Right now, I am about 152ish. When this was taken I was about 3 months into not smoking and about 3 months before becoming pregnant (becoming…as though it was all miraculous-like…all virgin birthy and shit). That was the beginning of the end. Saggy tits, dry skin, oddly shaped belly, the random hair on my chin, bigger feet (I swear to God), and have you heard of irritable bowel? Well, I have a pissed off bladder. I don’t know what I did to insult the bitch, but she clearly has it in for me. Screw you thimble sized pee holder!! (you SO want me right now, don’t you??!!) ANYWHO…yes, pregnancy ruins your body as you once knew it. And again, if you cannot relate…the finger…take a guess.
Hating the Hater
I hate hating myself. I really do. And I know it is annoying to listen to. So, I guess I sorta apologize. But honestly, I am trying to overcome this self loathing – which isn’t all physical by the way…but that is the most recognizable aspect of the hate. There is a lot of weird crappola freebasing in my mind on a second to second basis. And at the rate of 2 therapy sessions a month…maybe, perhaps I will gain acceptance around the year 2054. (sigh)
The other day in a session I broke down crying talking about the STUPIDEST thing. I told her that when I wear high heels, I feel like a little girl playing dress up. Like a big fraud trying to pull something off and fool everyone. I always feel less than. Uglier, less successful, less smart, less sophisticated, less fashionable, less financially stable, less interesting…less, less, less. And because of this, I am in constant defense mode. I think – honestly believe – that everyone else sees and thinks these things about me too. I heard a quote once…cannot remember who said it…but it went something like this (cue music) “You wouldn’t be so worried what other people thought of you if you knew how little they did.” Meaning – quit worrying about how others see you because they are not even thinking about you at all!!
Okay, now I am going down that unfocused rambling path as one eye starts to droop and Gordon Ramsay becomes more and more distracting. The pina colada earlier probably isn’t helping.
How is it Already Tomorrow?
These kids are getting too old. What the hell?? I remember hearing Kenzie’s first sentence (“Get down Bob!”) like it was yesterday. I remember holding my little peanut headed smooshed face nugget in the hospital minutes after a horrid labor. All those birthdays and Christmases…all those days of vomiting and rashes and fevers…all those moments of fear, joy, frustration and humor. Every day is getting faster and faster like a momentum which won’t slow down without a stick in the spokes – and we all know what that causes. A broken fucking face, that’s what.
I go through moments of wanting another baby SOOOO bad. I know that can’t happen. I am just too old and tired and my husband would rather murder me and shove me into an old suitcase. Plus, I need to have that damn surgery which will make the whole contemplation moot anyway. I just miss the smell of bald baby heads. I miss that big eyed laugh at the silliest things. I miss that conversation without words. I miss being able to hold and cuddle without the constant escaping. And it is very difficult to realize I will NEVER be able to have that again. Never. It is heart aching, truly.
I am so filled with thoughts and worries and regrets and disappointments. But that is also complimented with pride, humor, love, compassion, hope and effort. The past 2-3 months have put me back into a rut of depression of which I thought I was finally crawling out. Bob’s death really catapulted me into despair and then the political shit (subsequent arguments, losing friends, strained relationships with family), Charlie’s new SHITTY ass hours and now Tricia’s death. I am just SO sad lately. I need to get out of this and I am the only one who can do it. The issues above need to be actively addressed and dealt with. And I MUST stop procrastinating. Sooo….after my vacation….
P.S. Vacation consists of 2 days in the Dubuque/Galena area. Jealous much?