Hey, two weeks in a row of sucking? You got it, dude. I was on vacation which is the excuse I am choosing to use for my failure this week. Isn’t it weird that a perfectionist can’t even lose a few pounds?
I’m a crummy perfectionist. Do I have a fear of success instead of a fear of failure? Shit, it’s just fear. Is that my blog’s unofficial theme? Fear? It’s what’s for dinner. If you aren’t too scared that you’ll get salmonella or that someone has poisoned your meal, that is.
This is a quicky post -
Readers! (both of you!)
If you have ever used the IUD Mirena please leave me a comment and let me know if you have had any side effects.
I have been doing some research this evening after a friend mentioned that she was getting hers removed because it was causing all of her problems (she didn’t list the problems but I will ask her at a more respectable hour). After noting the risks which my OB never shared with me I also read the side effects. As I’m going through them I realize that the origin of my emotional and physical issues could all be coming from my IUD.
I don’t want to have another child right now but I also don’t want to feel depressed. I don’t want to have a panic attack that will render me incapable of taking care of my daughter. What happened on the plane on Saturday can NEVER happen again.
My face hurts from crying so much today. I simply couldn’t stop.
I want to write a funny blog. I really do. I want you to giggle as you read it but I don’t have that in me right now.
I thought that I didn’t have post-partum depression but I am now wondering if it was a delayed thing and now it’s snuck its way into my life. Ruining it.
I yelled at JuJu. After not seeing him for four days I yelled at him. I cried. I begged for him to understand me and support me.
REALITY CHECK, you nut job – All I have to do is talk to him and he gets it. For the most part. I can’t expect him to understand something if I don’t share it with him.
I think that my day of tears was also a result of a major lack of sleep. Other than the transportation situation that is the worst thing about traveling. You never get enough sleep and you’re stuck in a room with wonky air conditioning and the world’s crappiest mattresses and pillows. I should have just slept in my sister’s SUV.
I want to talk about fear. Real, crippling, totally irrational fear.
I hate to fly. My flight to Charlotte on Wednesday was a sweaty-palmed silent prayer nerve fest. Upon take-off and landing (my two least favorite things about flying but yet the things that make flying oh-so-different from being on the ground) there are the usual bumps and it scares the shit out of me. Every bump, every bit o’ turbulence signifies the end of my life as I know it. I was holding Peanut and nursing her so that her ears would pop to adjust to the pressure (I read about that… in a book) and I tried to focus on her so that I wouldn’t be so nervous. Didn’t work. I was so sweaty that where her body touched mine her onesie was damp with my sweat. The leveled-out flying isn’t so bad unless we go through clouds because that causes turbulence too. And since I have been on a plane in the air when it was STRUCK BY LIGHTNING I’m not too keen on any weather of any kind touching the plane I happen to be on.
I know that a fear of flying is common. Flying is fucking SCARY. If your plane crashes, YOU WILL DIE. Plain and simple (oh shit, a pun). Flying is pretty safe and I know that — it’s safer than being in a car or train. I get that. Really, I appreciate it. But shit, you are putting your life in the hands of several people you don’t even know. What about the dudes that sit in the ‘exit’ seats? What if one of those fuckers decides to open the door while we’re flying? We’ll all get sucked out. What if the pilot or a flight attendant goes bat-shit crazy? Seriously, these are the things that run through my head on a flight.
Flying with Peanut was fine. She slept most of the time. I was exhausted but couldn’t sleep because as soon as I fall asleep I know that someone will steal stuff out of my carry-on bag that’s sitting in the empty seat next to me, or worse – someone will take or hurt the baby.
As you’re reading this you are probably thinking that I’m too paranoid. Yes, I agree. When I tell someone that I’m afraid of something or give them a ‘what if’ scenario I most often get the ‘you worry too much’ or ‘you’ve got a very vivid imagination and you’re scaring yourself with it’ responses. Yeah, I know.
I don’t just worry about flying.
I have the light in the bathroom on so I can see in the room just in case my niece turns into a psychopath, climbs out of her pack ‘n play, and decides to attack all of us with the pointy end of a crayon. If the light is on I can make sure that everything is okay.
I am such an anxious person and I hate it that I’m so sensitive. I’m overly protective of my kid. I check on her constantly especially if she’s laying right next to me. I’ll lay my hand on her torso so I can make sure that I feel her heartbeat and to make sure that she is still breathing. I know that new moms do that but I wonder if I do it to excess.
Being this way is exhausting. For almost the entire month of July I couldn’t sleep because I was so worried that someone was going to break into our apartment and I had to come up with a plan for what my family would do if something like that happened. In reality JuJu and I do have a plan so that’s usually the one I use in my scenario so it makes me feel more calm about it but those thoughts still kept me up until three and sometimes as late as five in the morning. Try not getting enough sleep with an infant and then throw some neuroses in to get a woman who is so tired that she can’t function properly.
I feel like my health and relationships suffer because of these worries. Am I pushing people away because I’m too much to deal with? Is JuJu going to leave me because I’m always stressed out? I’m a disaster and I think that I need some professional help. I need to see a counselor and get on some anti-anxiety medication.
I need help. I can’t live like this anymore. And I know that this post started out kind of humorous but it didn’t stay that way. Sorry. Nighttime is usually when my mind wanders. I honestly think that we need a TV in the bedroom so I can fall asleep watching it. That way, I’m focused on something and not allowing myself free-think time when I know it will be most emotionally detrimental to me.
*A medical condition known as a “non-specific fear” or “the fear of everything” and is described as “a vague and persistent dread of some unknown evil.” (per Wikipedia, holla)
This is sort of the second part to this post.
I desperately want my degree. WHY? I mean, I had a glamorous career in retail management without it. I was going places. Not the places that I wanted to go, but places nonetheless.
Having Peanut made me realize (again) that I want more out of life. I want to provide for my family. I want them to be proud of me. Most importantly, I want us to BE the Jones’. I want our family and friends to be happy for our success but maybe a little jealous too. This would be a new sensation for JuJu since his family doesn’t really reach for the stars. It’s almost frowned upon which is something I just do not understand. When JuJu and I told his parents that our new house will be the perfect starter home they didn’t understand why we wouldn’t just live there forever. They definitely live in a different world than we do. It’s called rural Oklahoma.
I digress.
I want my family to shine. Brighter than your’s. There. I said it.
I want to get my Master’s degree and teach at a university. Maybe even write a book or two (could my blog be converted into a book? Would anyone read it?). I want JuJu to get his degree too. He doesn’t want a piece of paper to be the thing that validates him. It’s annoying. Sometimes I think that JuJu is too much like his parents and it pisses me off. I don’t want to get into that again.
Anyway, kids tend to go to college if their parents went to college. It’s a fact. Well, if it isn’t it should be. Someone do some research on this one for me.
I want Peanut and Filbert (subsequent baby #2 who doesn’t yet exist) to have good lives. I want them to be cultured, well-educated, athletic, happy, popular, and I never want them to go without. I want them to feel loved. I want them to be open minded.
I will do whatever I can to make sure that my family not only survives but thrives. And if anything or anyone gets in my way I will destroy them.
10:47 PM – Yeah. I’m THAT good.
And that’s your Wordless Wednesday or Whatever. You’re welcome.
I need you to check out my story on Whrrl and then leave behind some love. Thank you.
As I’m sitting here watching the Rachel Zoe Project (it’s a guilty pleasure that I’m only slightly embarrassed by) I am totally eating Double Stuff Oreos. Like, half of the package. Probably more than half. I’m kinda out of control. I’m even out of milk but I. CANNOT. BE. STOPPED. I never just eat my way through something but Oreos are definitely a vice of mine. Why did I fucking buy these things? Oh, that’s right! I bought them for JuJu. How many did he eat? Five? So I produce milk and eat my weight in cookies. AWESOME.
I’m gaining weight back and feeling like an immense failure so there will be no numbers today. I will be recommitting myself today for the rest of the challenge. That’s all I have to say. Wasn’t this a fun update!
Tomorrow is the first day of school at the good ol‘ community college. Rather, school starts tomorrow but my class is online so I don’t physically GO to school.
Not MY first day, just THE first day.
I have been going to college for eight years. I should be a doctor by now. Not a medical doctor, but a PhD. Whatever that stands for.
How many credits do I have? Real, transferable, good credits? Fifteen. I think. I can’t find my transcripts to verify this. So don’t ask.
Why has it taken me so long? I blame my parents’ divorce. Seriously. When I should have been excited about graduating high school and going off to college I was actually hiding under the covers wallowing in depression.
My parents weren’t around. I was sick. I missed classes. A lot of classes. There wasn’t enough Saturday school to make up the ones that I missed. This meant that there was no way that I could graduate in May with everyone else. I just couldn’t go to school. It was too much. Not too hard, but too much. Too much sunlight, too much human interaction. I couldn’t deal.
While I was sleeping everyone else was taking finals and preparing for college. While I was sleeping everyone else was touring universities with their parents.
It was ingrained in me from the get-go that I would in fact be going to college – no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Yet, when it came down to it the enforcers weren’t around. They were both busy. Not taking care of their lost daughters.
I pretty much had to find a parent replacement so I did and started going to college in the Spring of 2002 where I did pretty well. If I would just GO TO CLASS then I’d be fine. That was always the hard part. Once I was no longer with the parent replacement I stopped going to school. I would always register and pay but then flake out. What a waste of money.
I took on four courses in the Fall of 2008 while I was working full-time in hell and was in my second trimester. MISTAKE. I withdrew halfway through the semester because I was exhausted.
Somehow I think that this time it will be different.
(More on this exhilarating topic to come!)