Tough And Transparent As Armored Glass.
I've been slowly unraveling the issues that led to the Completely Fucking Mental Crisis, and it's been interesting to say the least. As I said to Ben and to my friend Scott, perhaps there are situations in life when the CORRECT response is to go a little bit crazy, and going a little bit crazy isn't necessarily a bad thing. It forces you to stop and take a look at things, see what needs fixing, see where you've perhaps been lying to yourself.
For example: At one point over the weekend, during a family outing to the canyons of eastern Orange County, I got annoyed with Ben while in the midst of a low blood sugar reaction (one of the features of my what-have-you has been a tendency to neglect such things as eating and sleeping). "Fuck you," I told him, which did not please him overly, but I was angry. Afterward I said to him, "Do you realize how long it had been since I allowed myself to even get angry with you?" It's true. I was working SO hard to convince myself that life was perfect that I didn't even dare raise my voice or retort to an offending comment. GAH! I figured I had to turn into a Stepford Wife to handle all that was on my shoulders. And for a while there, I did a pretty good job of playing the part.
But it's all going to be okay. I'm going to continue to work things out and love my family, and if the house isn't perfectly clean or if I get annoyed or tired or overwhelmed, that's okay too. If, for example, I'm meant to be reviewing medical records but end up spending half the day setting up the computer in the spare bedroom and the other half eating cinnamon bears and reading essays, then I'll chalk it up to recovery and put my nose back to the grindstone in the morning. I'll trip and fall. I'll fuck up royally. And right now I'm going to play X-Files action figures with Sam.
For example: At one point over the weekend, during a family outing to the canyons of eastern Orange County, I got annoyed with Ben while in the midst of a low blood sugar reaction (one of the features of my what-have-you has been a tendency to neglect such things as eating and sleeping). "Fuck you," I told him, which did not please him overly, but I was angry. Afterward I said to him, "Do you realize how long it had been since I allowed myself to even get angry with you?" It's true. I was working SO hard to convince myself that life was perfect that I didn't even dare raise my voice or retort to an offending comment. GAH! I figured I had to turn into a Stepford Wife to handle all that was on my shoulders. And for a while there, I did a pretty good job of playing the part.
But it's all going to be okay. I'm going to continue to work things out and love my family, and if the house isn't perfectly clean or if I get annoyed or tired or overwhelmed, that's okay too. If, for example, I'm meant to be reviewing medical records but end up spending half the day setting up the computer in the spare bedroom and the other half eating cinnamon bears and reading essays, then I'll chalk it up to recovery and put my nose back to the grindstone in the morning. I'll trip and fall. I'll fuck up royally. And right now I'm going to play X-Files action figures with Sam.
posted by Suburban Hippie at 4:25 PM
5 Comments:
Hey, look at you! Is this the new Mr. Baby or just a test run? I like it.
As for the Steppford Wife thing... "Nice" gets pretty boring after a while. It's not fun to get snippy or to fall or to fail in any regard. But it *is* human. As are you. Yay.
You know what? You finally sound human, Gretchen. Finally. I suspect you've got a long way to go, but now that the road is at least in front of you, it shouldn't be all so bad.
That said, don't go 'round saying "fuck you" to me. You might just find yourself missing a really cute kids sweater ;-)
Shut up and pass the cinamon bears.
(I mean that in the most loving of anti-Stepford ways, you understand...)
If, for example, I'm meant to be reviewing medical records but end up spending half the day setting up the computer in the spare bedroom and the other half eating cinnamon bears and reading essays, then I'll chalk it up to recovery and put my nose back to the grindstone in the morning.
See, my boss gets annoyed when I try that.
You are sounding very normal. What you wrote is totally true. We must stop trying to be perfect. No-one is and no-one can be.
Post a Comment
<< Home