That's what I've decided to start with today. I have always been this way, to the best of my recollection, though sometimes it didn't bother me as bad as others. . .
I guess maybe becoming a parent has helped to increase my levels of anxiety and terror. . .which were already at disturbing levels to begin with.
It's just a changing of roles, really, like any other right of passage. . . We change roles so many times in our life: from child to teenager, single to married, and now the shift to parent. I'm not the kid anymore. I have to TEACH the kid--- and love them, and trust them, and protect them. And I find it both horrifying, and HIGHLY amusing, that I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. (Because this kind of leads me to believe that my parents had no idea what THEY were doing, either. . . .and I find that oddly comforting.)
Maybe it's just that I'm being made more aware of my own mortality.
(Feels like being slapped in the face with it, honestly. Like being slapped in the face with a huge Fish of Impending Doom. That it is exactly what it is like.)
I have to enjoy this. I have to figure out the things I need to figure out. I am running out of time to work on myself---the time to do it is now. And I have to appreciate everything, because it only happens once.
That is a lot of pressure.
I was speaking with a friend just yesterday about how we both felt that were at points in our life where we felt that we could be completely honest. With ourselves, AND others.
One of my very favorite people, Bruce Lee, said that we should be like water.
"Water can flow, and water can crash. Be like water, my friend."
And if I am completely honest with myself, I HAD become like water. . .
Like water left in an old bucket out behind the garage, forgotten, for months on end.
In a word: stagnant.
And I am the only one that can change it.
I woke up feeling hopeful today.
---Most days I feel like my brain is trying to kill me. It's this whole Gollum-esque thing I have going with my brain. I'm quite used to it.---
Maybe it was the fact that it wasn't 100 degrees outside today, and there was a slight breeze blowing. Maybe it was the beautiful monarch butterfly that landed on the butterfly bush not three feet from me, and I was the only one who saw.
But whatever it was, I woke up today feeling like a new person.
I got plenty of sleep---that helped considerably.
So I got the baby up and fed, showered and got dressed. Put Nolan in a cooler outfit and plopped him in the stroller, pulled up my hair, grabbed my walking shoes and a big gulp of coffee. . .which wouldn't be such a bad idea right now. . . and we were out the door.
Even though we went to Six Flags two days ago, and while I had a great time, my calves were killing me from all the walking around. I went anyway. I went the long way around, past the pool, and up into what turned into a circle. I took the long way around.
Allow me to amend my earlier statement-- Even though it was not 100 degrees out, it was still HOT.
And I didn't want to do it, and I didn't feel like it, and I did it anyway.
And that makes me feel really good about me.
So it was a small thing. Big deal.
So I sloshed roughly 60 - 70% of my big gulp all over the stroller, and had to take a second bath when I got home. Even though the first thing I did when we got home was walk out back and smoke a cigarette.
And while I was making good pace, I was doing productive thinking, too. . .
. . . I want to become the absolute best version of myself that I can be. . . I want to be healthy; for myself AND my family. . . I want to give Swedish massages to my elephants of anxiety and tension. . . I want to make it back to my damn door!
But I don't want to lose ALL of my madness.
I'm attempting a very precarious balance, here . . . one I feel that Tim Burton is probably a master of, but I've never met him, so I can't say for sure.
I still want to draw faeries, and I still want to dance in the woods, and I still want to laugh uncontrollably, and I still want to revel in music. . . And I really just want to be able to live long enough to learn how to love.
How to love CORRECTLY, and without measure.
This is me.
Just trying to evolve.