My Inner Turmoil - Breathe (2am)

I could change the objective of this blog just about every day. Who do I want to be... The happy SAHM content with having my career consist of managing the house and raising my child? The bitter adult who still longs for the love and selflessness my parents should have given to me? The woman who has it all together and just blogs about the funny things and the days where I see things so clearly and can even smell the roses? I'm all of that. I'm none of that.

I have trouble letting people see the real me. Everyone always thinks I'm so sweet and happy. When the truth is I just don't know who I am, where I want to go or who I want to be. I don't know how to make choices or tell people how I feel. I'm afraid of any confrontation, even if it will end up being for the better of the situation. I don't know how to communicate without constantly thinking, "If I do or say this, they won't like me."

I just had an interesting trigger that has me crying and I can't stop. It's so ridiculous but I think it just was the key to open up the floodgates. I have a new personal trainer at the gym. Mike. He seems nice, I guess. Quiet. No conversation in between sets. A little boring. Today, he thought I dropped a weight on purpose. He gave me this big lecture about how I should never throw a weight because I could hurt someone. Meanwhile, I thought he was holding the weight and that's why I let go. The problem is that after he scolded me, I just said ok. I didn't even defend myself. I didn't even say, "I thought you were holding the weight." What does he think I am, a friggin barbarian? First of all, it was a 10 lb. weight. My arms are so skinny and trembling that I let go because I couldn't even hold it up anymore! And I thought he would be there to take it from me. He gave me the cold shoulder after that, which means not only was there no conversation, he wasn't even counting the reps for me anymore because he was pissed.

Does he know who I am?! I thought to myself as I was pulling out of the parking lot? No, of course not. I am upset for so many reasons right now. But it's not about this situation. It's about my life. Well, I have a little time right now, so let me vent. No one reads this friggin blog anyway:

1. I'm mad at the trainer for not realizing that I am a good person who would never intentionally drop a weight. I try my best at all times, dammit.

2. I'm mad at my grandmother for constantly giving advice that's not needed, for parenting my child even when I'm there, and for so many things on so many levels, I may have to spread out my ranting so people don't think I'm a lunatic.

3. I'm mad at my Best Friend for not wanting to spend more time with me unless it's convenient for her, and she doesn't lose any time with her husband. I want to be like Oprah and Gayle for crying out loud and she doesn't. Now she's moving away, and when I call her to tell her how sad I am, she's so nonchalant about it because she just wants to hang up and take a Sunday afternoon nap.

4. I'm mad at my husband for not being my soft place to fall. I feel he just doesn't want to listen to what I really have to say, and never wants to do something for me, with me, that I want to do (like watch a TV show that I like or give Ladybug a bath for me or take a drills session together). He never makes me feel better about my insecurities, he's never compassionate, and will never tell me it's ok and give me a hug. I'm mad at him for his porno collection and for never telling me about his trips to the video store.

5. I'm mad at my mother for not acting like my mother. Just because she allowed her mother to raise me, doesn't mean she should have just signed me over and given up. She tries to be my friend but she just doesn't know how to act like my mother. I love her deeply, and would never want to hurt her but she doesn't realize how much I need her to open up to me and not just talk about general stuff.

6. I'm mad at myself for not having the ability to take charge of my life. I'm mad at my grandmother for not showing me how to take charge. Rather, I'm just like her and have an excuse and a fear for everything. I don't know how to stand up for myself, defend myself, and meet a personal goal.

Well, thank you, The Black Hole of Blogging. And now here are the lyrics to the song that hits so close to home at the moment, Breathe (2am) by Anna Nalick, which I will go back to singing at the top of my lungs as my Personal Anthem, after I publish this post:

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,

"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?

I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"

Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes

Like they have any right at all to criticize,

Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason

--

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table

No one can find the rewind button, girl.

So cradle your head in your hands

And breathe... just breathe

Oh breathe, just breathe

--

May he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss

"Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,

"Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."

Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while

But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles

Wanna hold him.

Maybe I'll just sing about it.

--

Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.

No one can find the rewind button, boys

So cradle your head in your hands

And breathe... just breathe,Oh breathe, just breathe

--

There's a light at each end of this tunnel

You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out

And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again

If you only try turning around.

--

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song

If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me

Threatening the life it belongs to

And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd

Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud

And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

--

But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table

No one can find the rewind button now

Sing it if you understand.

And breathe, just breathe

woah breathe, just breathe

Oh breathe, just breathe

Oh breathe, just breathe.

My Daughter, Future Entomologist

My 3 1/2 year-old daughter loves bugs. I say that she's my future entomologist. My husband says bugs are dirty and shouldn't be touched.

When I was a kid I liked ants, ladybugs, rollie-pollies, lightning bugs and the occasional little spider. I was pretty much a tomboy, and when bored, I'd even go on an adventure with my friend Joey and Dig for Worms. I also had a cousin who used to collect bugs constantly, and keep them in a closed coffee can with the plastic lid on top with a few holes so they can breathe. As I got older, bugs and crawly things appealed to me even less. I really don't want to be around any of them, let alone have these creatures crawl on me intentionally.

Now that I have an inquisitive little girl, I don't want her to be fearful of bugs, and she can actually learn a lot from them too. So, I encourage the insanity of watching my uncle pick up this GIANT cicada and bring it over for my little girl to observe. Oh, what we do for our children. eeeeeks.

Recently, my husband and I went to play tennis. Ladybug usually tags along with us and hangs out while we play (we always bring her tennis racquet so she can "play" with us a bit too). I'll also pack some snacks, a couple of toys, markers, and the DVD player to keep her occupied so my dh and I can have about an hour of play. But even with all of that, one day I said, "Why don't you go and look for ladybugs over there in the bushes." Well, she found a few and it kept her busy. A few minutes go by and she asked me to fill her cup with water. I thought she was thirsty, so I filled it. After about the 3rd time, I began to give her more water and my dh comes over frustrated because we have to keep stopping our match. "Are you drinking this water?" I asked. "No," she said, "I'm giving the ladybug a bath." Daddy was annoyed, "Why are you doing that?!" "Daddy, YOU said ladybugs are dirty. So I'm giving her a bath so I can play with her."

Later, she told me she pulled off the ladybug's wings because she didn't want her to fly away. Entomologist? Hmmm... maybe I should imagine another profession for my Little Ladybug.

"... you just need to do it"

"If you find that thing you love, it doesn't necessarily matter whether you do it well or not -- you just need to do it." - Stanley Tucci

This paper bookmark came in my junk mail one day, requesting me to subscribe to "Positive Thinking" magazine. I didn't subscribe, but I do have this bookmark on my fridge. To me, it is the most profound thing I've ever heard.

Looking back on my childhood, I felt as if I was a bird who was never taught how to fly. There was never that little nudge of encouragement to take a chance and try to fly high. I was told I was an "average" kid who should just be a secretary like my aunt. Doctors, lawyers and successful people existed, but they were practically superheroes who might as well have come from another planet. Not that my family is lazy or trashy, they were just content being blue-collared, low-educated and middle class. I know my family loved me but they were just so afraid to leave their comfort zone.

I wanted to soar. I loved adventure, loved trying new things and loved playing street games with the boys. Growing up in Brooklyn, NY in the 1970's we played punch ball, stoop ball, running bases, touch football from manhole cover to manhole cover, and any other games that involved a Spalding and/or running for our lives.

However, I had this horrible fear of being lost or that someone would just leave me somewhere and forget where I was and never find me. I was considered the "weak" one in the group and was always the one the kids made fun of, until I was about 14 and found some better friends.

So, today, I'm still trying to find middle ground between that scared little girl and the one who wants to just run. My perfect answer:

TENNIS!

What could be better? I'm fast, have great hand-eye coordination, and love a little competition. I just need to practice and learn how to be a winner. As a SAHM (Stay-At-Home-Mom), I've learned that success and happiness comes in many different forms. But I still felt I needed to have that certain something of my own, that I loved. Before I quit my job, it was work. The reward is so much easier to see there, rather than taking care of the house and raising a child. TENNIS has helped me keep my sanity, work towards something, and feel good about myself.

Stanley Tucci may not be a great philosopher or poet, but his words have helped me answer a question I've been asking my entire life.

Dreaming of old and new friends

I always dream of past friends I've had. Mostly the ones that I've severed ties with unamicably. There was the tie that was broken because of a boy, the tie that was broken because they were upset and never explained why, the ties that were broken because of an argument or hurt feelings, and the many ties that were just severed with time and growth.

For some reason, I have a strong place in my heart and mind for all these past friends. I've been told that it's because of my "abandonment issues" that makes these broken ties so significant to me. After all, everyone has had friends come in and out of their lives and are not haunted by them.

Last night it was a combination of friends. There was Cutie Pie (he's the one I had a make-out fling with during the time my best friend was madly in love with him in my high school years), there was Claire (my 12-year old best friend), Rose and Richie (high school friends), Margaret, Nicky (a HS friend who everyone was sure was gay but not sure if he ever came out of the closet) Diana (my high maintenance friend who still has a special place in my heart), Teresa (really Diana's friend but still today we sort of keep in touch -- she prefers to keep it to email and never calls when she says she's going to), Marilyn (my current friend who I talk to and see on occasion), and others were there, I'm sure.

We were all at a swimming pool. The scene was somehow changing... I had either run into all these people while on an island vacation or we were all in a high school swimming pool. (Really, I was on the swim team for about a minute.) We were racing. There were some professional swimmers there (not former friends of mine) that were really fast and I wanted to be fast like them. Every time I wanted to get into the water, I would get interrupted. Cutie Pie would flirt with me and ask me to have another quick fling for old times sake; Margaret would ask me to take a walk with her to have a cigarette; Marilyn would stop and have a quick sensible conversation. Diana and Teresa were there but not in the pool. Diana and I went to Nicky's house where his Gilbert-Grape-type mother was sleeping in the kitchen behind her clutter of knick-knacks.

Anyway, this dream was just full of all these people and so much going on that it's hard to really describe it. These former friends haunt me constantly, usually in separate dreams. Maybe someday there will be a single event that will happen to where I no longer am haunted by these dreams, and they simply become fond (and not so fond) distant memories. But I always find myself wondering what they're all doing now...

Busted!

Well, I would never be good at having an affair. I left my Internet Explorer window open to my blog. My dh read my entries. He found me out! I'm busted! Not sure if he was smart enough to write down the website, though, and check it out while he's at the office. But even if he does, I'm not going to care. Maybe he'll learn a thing or two about how my mind works.

I almost scrapped this whole blog idea but I talked myself out of it. He simply said, "If you want to keep a secret, then you should do a better job of it." That was it -- I get discouraged very easily. But I think deep down, I don't want to keep any secrets... that's why I started this blog in the first place. I need an outlet.

A lot of the things I will probably post will be about the thoughts that run around my head and memories from my childhood. Not that my childhood was enormously eventful, tragic or exciting, but there are plenty of events and feelings that are completely imprinted in my brain.

I feel these events are part of my identity. The people that passed through my life are also part of my identity. However, no successful doctors, lawyers, millionaires or entrepreneurs have a chapter here. My influences are strictly others like me, with baggage, just trying to make the best of it. Well, some are just living and not trying so much.

I often have very vivid dreams. I've thought about writing them down but that takes too long. It's funny how a person with ADD who forgets everything where I left my keys or what I had for breakfast, can remember so many extreme details of my dreams. Sometimes I can even smell the air, feel pain, taste, fear and remember how something (or someone) felt on my fingers.

My dh also doesn't want to hear about every one of my dreams. He thinks they're too weird, they don't make sense, and gets bored with the details. Well, unfortunately, I plan to write about them here. So, dh, if you're reading, be forewarned!

Time Management

I have a confession to make that not everyone knows about me: I have recently been diagnosed with ADD. Not ADHD, that would mean I would have hyperactivity as well. I have ADD: I have trouble managing my time, keeping the clutter away, and paying attention. I have a deficit of attention.

Or maybe I'm just a passive-aggressive New Yorker who doesn't want to listen to authority, likes to keep some momentos tucked in a corner in a shopping bag in the bedroom, and am just bored with the conversation. Hmph.

Well, today is Monday and every Monday I say to myself, "I'm going to wake up at 6:00am, start the laundry, and do 12 things before I bring my daughter to camp." And every Monday, I wake up after 7:00am. Sometimes I even wake up at like 7:40am. I've come to realize that I'm simply saying: "F*ck you, CLOCK! You don't OWN me! I'll get up when I want!!"

And then my whole day is screwed up.

Happy Monday!

Am I being emotionally unfaithful b/c my dh doesn't know about this blog?

Just curious what you all thought. (ha! as if there's a "you all" at this point.) Hopefully someone out there will read this eventually... and answer my question. But really, am I being emotionally unfaithful because my dh doesn't know about this blog? I simply just need another outlet to complain. So why not cyberspace?

Well, so far, I've said nothing about dh anyway. Not really sure how much complaining I want to do here. Maybe I just want to skip that whole thing and not be identified as a blogger who complains too much about her marriage. Maybe I want to just be known as the sweet mommy with the cute kid. Not sure yet.

We'll see where this all goes, day by day. Just like I move with life... I just go where it takes me.

When I was 4...

When I was 4...

For some reason, that was my best year. Especially when I was about 6 or 8, I always used to talk about "When I was 4..." I even remember saying it. Funny enough, today, I don't remember what really happened when I was 4. But here's a picture of me from "When I Was 4" anyway...

Oh, what a scary thing!

I've just been inspired to start a blog by cmhl at this very moment. It's 3:40am and I woke up frantically looking for a remedy for my 3-year old's flaky scalp. It's amazing what will keep us up at night.

I love people who dare to speak their minds about their lives. But a blog has been scary for me because... who is my audience? Do I simply want to try to be clever and amuse strangers with the high hopes of receiving positive feedback? Sounds like the story of my life. Or do I want to keep in touch with people whom I know and love that never really hear the TRUTH about what goes on in my mind. I'm going to gamble and pick the former, hoping that at some point, maybe a few of the aforementioned latter population will stumble across it.

But what if my dh ("darling husband," "dick-head husband," depending on my mood) sees it? Yikes. Divorce may be in order. How does cmhl feel about that? What would SHE do?

There are certain individuals I would love to share this link with: my therapist, my aunt, my bff (best friend forever). Would I want my mother to read it? Ummm, yes, but just don't ask me to elaborate, Mom, ok? Read it but don't tell me you read it. I would like you to get to know me better, but just don't tell me you know, ok?

I have a certain facade to keep up. I'm sweet and kind (not the facade part), rarely get upset (here comes the facade), and have a perfect marriage (whammy!). I have it all together because I would have it no other way (wooo, boy!). I'm organized (ha!) and I always have enough time. (you get the picture, now, right?)

It's funny, because I've always felt, put me on a stage to speak in front of a bunch of strangers, and I'll be fine. Put me on a stage in front of my family, and I will pass out from all the anxiety. So, this is how I feel about this whole blog idea. I like it. Kind of like going on a roller coaster. Hope you can enjoy the ride with me. Hope someone out there can find me.

So, thank you cmhl for your inspiration, and your blog about thing two's flaky scalp. You helped me in more ways than you can ever imagine.