first, a disclaimer: to my mother-in-law, our conversation did inspire this entry, but it is not directed at you personally (or at you, b.) in any way, shape or form. the conversation just reminded me of some observations i have made but have never written about here.now, the rest of the story (with apologies to paul harvey). if you're one of my 5 regular readers, you probably noticed a more somber tone to my blog lately as i deal with some leftover residue from my childhood. the way i have dealt with the yuckiness from my youth was basically to ignore it and put my all into my "false self," which is a well-adjusted, perfectionistic, well-educated, well-rounded mother's dream. there are people with my background who chose the "other" path: drugs, bad personal hygeine, can't keep a job, etc. so, all in all, i think my "false self" was a good choice.
what sucks is that nobody knows the real me. heck, i don't even know all of me yet. maybe if those who cared to know me took a weekend to beat drums around a campfire whilst dancing naked in the moonlight, chanting, they might not get to know me, but ohhhhh the stories we'd have!!
anyway, everyone has "thorny" times every once in a while. just because my life isn't always sunshine and roses doesn't mean i am suicidal, homicidal or even pedagogical. i am not sinking into a depression, a psychotic episode or forming multiple personalities. i am no more anxious than usual. i just need some healing, like the rest of humanity. i've finally gotten to a place where i can see it, admit it and do something about it. after the healing has been done, things will be rosy again, though the roses may be a different color. in the meantime, let me navigate my briar patch. if i need rescuing, i promise i will call in the troops.
7 comments:
When you're ready, I'm ready.
You always encourage me. Thanks.
I think I'm afraid to know the real me. I am missing spans of time as well, but I feel like they are buried for a reason.
A TV show the other day was asking women to remember a defining moment from middle school age - - and by the end of the exercise, these women had defined so much of their personality through that one incident. I did the same thing and was amazed at the defining moments that came to mind. Painful...very.
If you couldn't express yourself here without undue caution, you'd run the risk of creating a literary false self as well. Usually the more susceptible kind because you get to edit before publishing.
If you need me to bake you a pan of brownies for some comfort food, let me know. Of course, one drawback is I suck at cooking and you might die from eating them. Does "it's the thought that counts" still apply even in cases where someone ends up dead?
Good luck with the soul searching.
Well, Karla, it would sure save me a lot of money on therapy! Thanks for the well wishes!
Agreeing with Nell...if you need an ear...I'm here also.
Now to do the exercise Nell mentioned. It's almost too scary to attempt...
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