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Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Feeling Like Crap



This Christmas is about the worst ever.  I spent 5 months making wall hangings, I first believed would not take too long, leaving a lot of my projects to go behind.  Shopping today with the DH, was a pain in the butt.  I got no cookies or baking done, and I'm soooo exhausted.  He drove us out to the main road, not even bother to put the truck into 4 wheel drive, which drives me crazy, it slides, even with the studded tires.  Our road has not been cleaned up yet, and we just had a big snowstorm. I dragged DH around, he met some people he would stop and talk, a long time, but I was able to find some sewing supplies while he did so.  So not too too bad.  We met up with his mother, and she asked what we were up to.  He said, "Spending money."  Ok, well, you know he is not very evolved and a total pain in my butt sometimes.  But she answered him, it was so funny, "Wow, are you ever lucky," with a chipper look on her face.

We slip slidded all the way back home, again, not changing to four wheel.  When we got back home, I put all my stuff down.  I was so tired.  And it was time to start dinner.  Dinner tonight was the left over roast beef, so I threw some potatoes into the casserole dish, with the roast, put the whole thing on low, and went and sat down.

I've had a horrible headache for the past 2 days.  I've been taking some Advil, but our weather changes, my head will feel it regardless.  But when I noticed how this day went with him, then I looked over at him.  He was chipper.  But he wasn't chipper with me at first, but he is now.

This morning, I was making the shopping list, and said I needed gift bags.  He said, "Oh now your adding to the list,"  I told him to shut up, I've already been tired from his impatience.  I know he wanted to get it all over with.  So I was trying, I really was, but it's hard.  Nothing is easy for me, and he was making it harder.

But now he was chipper, and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with meeting up with people, and meeting up with his mother.  His mother's comment to him made him smile.  And I'll never get over that.  She didn't miss a beat and she is almost 80.  She is cooking up a storm, and their apartment will be well decorated.

And I can't help but think about our Quilting Guild President, won first prize on the contest that covers a wide territory.  I went there, there must have been a thousand quilts entered, and she won first prize.  How is that even possible?

I had a career I could barely get off the ground.  I am a quilter, and its hard.  I am the cook, cleaner, sweeper, launderer, cat caretaker, everything, is just barely done.  I feel so horrible some times, it is always like this.

I can't help but think of the pot roast.  I remember when mother was still in my life, and I felt that when she went back home, I was so deliriously happy, I was practically doing cartwheels.  That felt wrong.  I should have been happy to have her around, but I wasn't, she made me miserable.

So I think of the pot roast.  It was a simple meal.  Pot roast, potatoes, green beans, gravy and I remember feeding that to mother one day.  She told me that it was lousy, that it was welfare food. Anything I cooked was awful, or it was welfare food.  I remember when she was with her boyfriend, and I invited her over to dinner.  I made spaghetti, and she sniffed every bite, obnoxiously.  I ignored that, this was mommy.

DH mother, a world of difference.  I read to him one day from Q's blog.  The part where the mother accidentally slipped on a dick.  Sorry Q.  I was laughing and looked over at DH, and he looked shocked.  I realized then what I did, and went oops, not for him.

I don't know if you watch The Young and the Restless, but there is a girl on there who was raised in a cult.  I don't know but the writers got everything so right about her, in my opinion, I don't know how they get it.  Anyway the girl was raised in a cult.  She is a nice girl, doesn't hurt anyone, but everytime she tries to talk in a conversation, some of the stuff she says, people look at her shocked. She doesn't understand, and just goes, "What did I say?"  And no one says anything.

Well, I do that too sometimes.  I have to stay alone lots, for the stuff that comes out of my mouth is not for the nice, normal people, and I hate that.  My Christian ethics aside, I will say or do the wrong thing, or offend someone badly, not intentionally, but eventually.

Now I am left with impossible circumstances again.  We have a blended family.  His daughter, I have on facebook, but I can't seem to communicate with very well.  She comes here, and tends to drive her father nuts.  She wants money, this or that.  She told me that I have to make her a quilt now, said I should go get a job as a waitress, she has some friends to help.  I know, she might have been trying to be helpful, but I am not returning to work.  Especially to go waitress.  I can do my best, to reach out to the kids, but, I'm finding it difficult with this one.  She snoops, she sneers, and I am finding that hard.  She crosses boundaries in regards to respect.

But I am not writing to talk about that.  Just that I am not knowledgeable, and I don't want to say anything to her that would cause more discomfort for us.  Just don't know what to do is all.  If I was normal, I am sure that I would be baking pies, wrapping presents, and have a great relationship, one that is beyond normal.  I know he is capable of that.  I've seen it sometimes.  Just like his mother could get him out of his doom and gloom, I can't.

I remember my mother and her talks with me.  I serve welfare food.  I don't do anything right.  And when we went out, I was tripping all over the place.  For she was always making fun of me.  Now I know I have to transcend this, if I want the kind of life that I want.

I'm giving out these handmade wall hangings that look like crap to me.  My friend told me that they looked beautiful.  I thought they look too amateurish, after all the beautiful handmade things I've seen people do.  I just don't feel that I can do anything right.  I don't dare voice this, there is no one to tell this to.

Specific things about mother I am trying to remember, but I am starting to forget.  But I do mention them here and there, and when one memory pops up, I make sure to put it in someone's blog.  I get the word out, I try.

So I feel like I can't do anything right.  I spent 2 hours reading over at my relationship board, I had to. I even feel like I'm failing in that.  The one thing I read about that lit me up was the posting on jealously.  It was very helpful.  You see, jealousy is hard wired in women like you wouldn't believe, from thousands of years of needing men.  We couldn't spear our own mammoths, it was not allowed. You hang on to your man for dear life.  So jealousy is ok.  I'm not talking about the covetousness, just jealousy.  A not very comfy feeling.  But it is legit.  So just feel it.  It is also causes us to have to take action, which I am terrible at.  It is easier to sit and die.

Do what our female ancestors did and not allow for shenanigans.  It works.  Tell him I feel jealous? Yes.  It is not wrong.  Whatever you do, take action.

I find that hard.  According to mother, I was stupid and useless.  This was the woman who raised me. She really raised me to die, you know.  Somehow, I am a survivor, and I remain in hope.  It is the way I've always been.  So with no abilities of my own, I choose hope.  I keep trying.

There is one big problem.  The site I'm in is an action site.  You don't get to live in mediocrity.  If you pay thousands of dollars for her course, you can ask for your money back for the program is hard.  It can't be injected like a needle, you have to do it.  Transcend those thoughts.

Woman, go claim your territory.  Choose now.  And this is not easy.  This is what I wanted to write about today.  Go in your room, close the door, and stay there till your brain figures out you are alone and the bullshit stops, and the truth finally comes out.  Cry, do whatever, find the truth.  I have tried to do that over and over.  And that is what I have come up with.  Mother never wanted me to live. Somehow it would have been a boon to her existence to having the absolute control, and that would mean I die.

But I didn't die.  I like things to be going well, just that they never are.  A lot of it has to do with my state of mind.

So I should not be allowing DH to be at his SIL beckon call either.  I should never allow it.  Not at all.  I can own him?  Yes.  I know lots of people don't believe that, that's ok, but I am to own him plain and simple.  When SIL leaves me out, I am to actually inform her that she is not to do that, and that I won't tolerate it anymore.  I am to take action, not to crumble.  No, he is not going to go against me on this, and he doesn't understand what is going on either, she is too out of range of the radar for him to see it.

Basically, I am to take control.  This is hard for me, it really is, but this is what the living does, the dead just sits and waits to die.  Just do it.  She saw me as prey before, but she won't see me as prey anymore.  And if she ever flashes her boobs again, I am to wrap them around her throat, metaphorically speaking.  He's already told me he has no interest in her boobs.  I can say anything I want to.

I don't know what I would have been if I was raised in a good home.  I think pretty awesome.  I do have a lot of thoughts of not giving a shit, and that is good feeling thoughts.

I noticed that I wake up in the morning, with all these thoughts pouring in my head.  Telling me that I am no good, blah blah blah.  No wonder I am exhausted before I can begin my day.  I'm exhausted.   Very specific thoughts come to light every now and again.  Why do I feel so hard on myself?  Why can't I just go on that trip, and not feel so badly about an email?

For all that stuff doesn't matter.  It doesn't matter if someone doesn't like me.  I just saw a facebook meme, about the most awesome one I have ever seen that said, "If everyone loved me, I would be bacon."  How true is that?

I thought I was out of the approval seeking toilet long ago, and I am, just some tricky stuff comes up every now and again.  There are some easy not seeking approval, and some trips me up, stays out of the radar.  So DH said I was invited on that trip, by him, and I should have went.  But I went, "narc this, narc that."  But who gives a shit right?  Just go.  And when I got there and I saw her, I can tell her that I saw the email, so f**k off.  Yep, I'm not kidding.  And be upfront, and demand to be noticed.

Right or wrong, I intend to wake up tomorrow, bound and determined, I will get through the day without feeling like crap.  It will happen.  So I take every horrible thought I have about myself and just say no.  So this is a lot of work, but it will be worth it.  This is why I can't ever be in contact with mother again.  However, I feel about mother, she undoes all my progress.  And if mother was a real person, she would understand.  I keep thinking of parallel universes, not that I believe that, just interesting.  That if I walked into a parallel universe, and mother was normal, she would be running to tell me that.


12 comments:

  1. I used to get that negative tape playing over and over in my head like a hamster stuck on a wheel. Then, I started to ask out loud, "Whose voice is that?" Invariably the answer was my mother or my father's voice. It was never my voice putting me down, it was just my mind replaying the tape I'd listened to for my entire life.

    Best example I can give is my hair. Mum always told me I had horrible hair: lank, oily, fine, straight...etc. She even hated the colour, deep chestnut brown with red highlights. Well into my twenties I wore it long and simply parted in the middle. Then she started a campaign saying "a woman of your age, shouldn't have long hair". I was so far under her thumb that even though my husband loved my long hair I cut it really short and when a bit of grey began to show I coloured it too.

    Two years ago, I was getting ready to go somewhere, looked in the mirror and said out loud, the things my mother used to say about my hair because I believed them to be true. Then I asked, "Whose voice is that?" It was my mother's voice complete with British accent and I cried my eyes out.

    Today my hair is almost halfway down my back with a fantastic pure white streak at the front and others at the sides. I get compliments on my hair and with my daughter's helped I've learned to just say "thank you" instead of replying with some self put-down. Best of all, today, I look in the mirror and say out loud, "I fucking love my hair."

    When I relapsed a few moths ago the 1st put downs out of my parents' mouths were negative comments about my hair. Pretty funny coming from my mum who was almost completely bald by then. I laughed in their faces.

    I'm hijacking you post to suggest you take a long hard listen to just where those negative voices in your head actually come from. Odds are those are the voices of your abusers/bullies who want you to believe you're "less than". Tell them to shut the fuck up and no, it's not weird to say it right out loud.

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  2. I've never thought about just doing it out loud. Every now and again, I feel good, its because the voices stop, or something goes well, and I feel good. But it always came back. But it is my new years resolution to make this happen. I'm not going to just try. I'm going to do it.

    Its always about the stuff I do. Cook, create something, even just doing the laundry, I don't feel like I did it right. Like the wall hangings I made. They really are nice, my friend made some too, and she likes hers. Its such a shame for me to feel this way, for I have worked so hard on them, I could at least give myself credit for that.

    I bet your hair looks amazing. I plan on having my hair long for a very long time. I brush it for 20 minutes a day with my boar bristle brush. I never find it a lot of work. Sure, it does take long to wash it too, and mother used to say it was a waste of time. I just choose to not find it work. I enjoy it.

    I woke up this morning, and so far I'm fine. No bad thoughts, getting Christmas all arranged, and its working. Its not perfect, and that is what I worry about the most. And perfect should never be the goal anyway. Since I got this way, the laundry has piled up, and I have a lot to do. But its ok, cause I know why, and it doesn't have to be all perfect. And perfect was never good enough anyway, I was up against a losing battle, I was never going to satisfy mother. That is not what she wanted.

    Its taken me a long time to figure out why I get depressed about the simple things. I had to sit on my butt for a long time, and just allow myself to feel where this is coming from, and now that I have, I realized it came from a whoring drunk.

    Thanks MF. I'll be taking your advice for my new years resolution.

    Btw, I believe long hair on a woman is sweet. Your husband was right.

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  3. This year's Christmas decorations are not up to my usual standards because of my disability (waiting for a knee replacement!) but we have a few things out so things are what I call "best can do". A small tree is better than no tree at all!

    The best present I ever gave myself was permission to no longer be perfect. The source of my perfectionism was that never ending need to please my parents who were "unpleasable".

    I worked in a jewellery store for a number of years and when some pieces simply couldn't be repaired back to their original condition the goldsmith would write "best can do" on the bag. After all, no one can do better than their best.

    Perfectionism keeps us trapped in that never ending cycle of being "less than". Tell the voices to STFU and just do the best you can. If other people don't like it borrow my favourite phrase "Fuck 'em".

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  4. Yep, even putting coffee on in the morning can be torture. Every little condemning thing pops in my head. I keep wondering what it would have been like to have supportive parents. Who wanted the best for us. And I kind of line my thinking up with that. I am not hard on other people like I am on myself. I did my best too.

    Perfectionism is about fear. That's interesting about the jewellery. And no one can do better than their best. I've been using your phrase all day. I'm hoping with each and every passing day it will be easier, but I'm not counting on it. It really is just one day at a time.

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  5. "I'm not counting on it" is the kind of negative self-talk that will doom you to fail before you start. Kick those kinds of thoughts to the curb with the rest of the garbage and replace them with "I've got this".

    I figure, why beat MYSELF up when I have a family full off assholes just waiting for a shot at doing it for me?

    You've got this kiddo! I believe in you and we've never even met.

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    1. That's right. I have to keep the right self talk going. Thanks, I'm not going to stop. I do got this. I will not be beating myself up anymore. I remember inviting mother and her boyfriend over to eat spaghetti with me, and she was condemning me. It was good stuff.

      Thanks for your confidence in me MF.

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  6. I agree get those negative tapes out of your head. I still struggle with it. Pot roast is a good meal, so that's a nut calling it welfare food. Question all the competition crap and how they have endless expectations on people that never seem to end. Sometimes we have to find our own answers and close our ears against all the demanders. I tell myself all the time "I'll do what I want". Their shill voices ring in our minds and hearts telling us nothing is ever good enough. I am sure your quilted wall hangings are great. They tell us lies about ourselves and reality. I hate perfectionism it is used as a hammer. People trying to impose their bubble of delusion on us. Hope you have good holidays Joan. You are doing fine, I know I struggle to get those voices out of my head too.

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    1. Thanks Peeps, the day got off to a rough start, but I ended it with a plan, a new years resolution. The wall hangings are great, I worked hard on them, and I am proud. But when I look at them I can hear mother's shrill voice tearing me down.

      How does someone win a contest first place when there are a thousand other competitors, I don't know. I would have a better chance with a lottery ticket. Guess my point is that you can't do that while feel so down on yourself, for you will not win. Getting through that, "I can do this" is amazing. I'll be using that one too. And just speak my truths and don't worry about the outcome which I have no control over anyway. Just that it seems my mind travels fast forward and makes all these horrible predictions, which are not real, hardly ever come true, its crazy.

      But I feel better now. Well, not better actually, but feel like I can take action, for I never knew why things used to go so horribly for me, now I do know and can take action.

      Hope you have a good holiday too, I know you don't celebrate Christmas, so I hope it is a nice time for you and your husband, I'm thinking he has some time off from working. I know daily I will have to kick those voices out of my head. I should look forward to it actually, lol.

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  7. Joan,

    I can't manage to do half of the things your wrote, and they are still under my responsibilities list. I do not even hear the tape, I just have that awful feeling of being bound from head to toe and can't move. I've always been told that I wasn't going to get married, and now that I am and I have a toddler many times I feel they don't deserve not to be taken care of as they should. I can barely do the things I do as well. The irony is that NM kept telling me that to be successful I must find a husband that will pay a helper to do everything for me. You see where I am getting? No housework skills, so it feels like a mountain of work even when I have to do the dishes.

    So if it makes you feel any better, you are miles ahead of me :)

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    1. Elli, as soon as I made the decision to kick that voice out, bam, the electricity has been cut due to a large storm. We just got connected, after 2 days. It has been a very emotional time. And we had no water, heat, nothing. We were grateful to get out for part of a day. It was rough. Now with candlewax everywhere, dishes piled up, I first thing I did was turn on the computer. lol

      Everything is hard, then suddenly it became harder. I know nothing is easy. It is ok. That was a cruel thing for your NM to say. I used to get those messages too, I know what your getting at. Your toddler will be fine, as long as you are aware, and give love, and we just do the best we can anyway. I'm glad you don't have the tape playing in your head.

      I just keep pushing forward. I got such raves from making those wall hangings, that the store bought gifts were practically ignored. It was great, and I looked at the wall hangings from new eyes. So it was a trick of my mind, that they were no good. I just try to remember that, it might go that way with a lot of things. I can make a whole pot of spaghetti sauce that I can barely stomach while DH is wanting to eat the whole pot.

      I know I'm rambling, haha, having a hard time organizing my thoughts, and its just the way it is. No energy for 2 days, and when it came back on it was like heaven. I guess the seratonin is taking over my brain. but my gosh, felt like I was going to die.

      Basically, what I'm saying is that maybe you are doing way better than you think.

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    2. Most of us are way harder on ourselves than other people are, IF you discount anything said by our narc parents or their flying monkeys.

      Also when you have a talent like quilting, regardless of what you make, you're miles ahead of people like me who lack that particular talent.

      I recreate detailed costumes for my daughter to wear to ComicCon and Fan Expo. No patterns, I just watch the movie over and over. Most notable was the Heath Ledger's Joker dressed as a nurse. I redid the collar four times and still wasn't satisfied. When she was mobbed by people wanting pictures at Fan Expo I was on the sidelines still pissed about the way the collar turned out. Not a single person said, "That collar is wrong."

      Again, IMO, this is the seed of perfectionism/people pleasing planted by our fucked up parents.

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    3. Wow. Isn't that amazing though? I have a thought that maybe people are just trying to placate me like a small child. I am still scared of that, but then i keep thinking that's crazy. People don't care that much in order to placate us. They like it, they like it, plain and simple. My friend made this pumpkin pie and gave me a piece, she admitted the crust was a little tough, but it didn't matter. It was pumpkin pie! I didn't care about the crust, and actually didn't even think of it, till she mentioned it.

      Yep, its the seed of perfectionism. That's the crazy part.

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