Too Much Assessment

I believe reassesment of life should be a regular thing. I also believe there is such a thing as too much of it. If there is a lot, it likely means instability, inability to commit, or driveless unmotivated desire to do anything with life. The decision to not choose. To not care.

Some may wonder why they don’t have the care. How they can see someone choosing to hold down three jobs to get the job they really want, and then see themselves as someone who doesn’t care about holding down any job at all.

You make your own life. You really do.
That’s why it’s important to figure out the things you like best in life and then use your mind,take action and make it work for you.

It’s alot easier to type it out then to do. I know that.
But acknowledgement is usually the first step towards any change in behaviour.

Some of us don’t know why we don’t care.
Maybe we used to care more and now we don’t. Maybe it is the other way around.

Life gets to me too much.
That’s where I’m coming from.

I care about the small things that I never used to. And I have bigger responsabilities as we all do as we get older. We’re supposed to do things that make us happy and as we get older, we tend to need more things for that to happen. Sad, but true. Whether it be alcohol, going to concerts,dining out, bowling, movies,games.
We need more to maintain a happiness we got much easier when we were younger.
Some of us struggle more with this fact than others.

What I’m really getting at is,

I’m reevaluating my life too much these days when I should just be living it.
To trust my own judgement with my new identity and believe and know, that that’s going to make me feel better about being my own self and holding down one job instead of three.

Why We Write

Many reasons why we write.

Maybe mostly we write when we are sad. When we are bored. When we have experienced happiness. When we desire validation. Each like or comment or follow flickers our insides in some way or another. And it’s a positive. Certainly that is a type of way we do life too. We want people to like what we say and even when we do nice things, it’ll be okay if someone notices and says, “Hey, Good job”. That’s humanity.

We all have our struggles.

Some of you are going through university doing your best .Some of you are hurting in your relationship. Family disputes, bosses, fellow employees. There is usually always something we have going on in our life that’s a negative.
And sometimes we write about it.
The way I see it, negatives mean something to us or else we wouldn’t care or feel about it. Things are easy to shrug off when there are no attachments, no values, no feel for it.

We can’t really turn that off. We can possibly redirect it. But even then, we’re still going to feel bad about what makes us feel bad. Because that’s our core. That’s who we are.

Some of us are trying to figure out life. Like me.
About who we are and what we stand for. Sometimes we go through huge cliff jumping changes and we get disorientated and lost and we just want to love and be free from all our faults and poor choices of our past.
And we can understand that it is not a fast overnight change. That it will take months, if not years to fully re-position ourselves.

And sometimes that isn’t fast enough. We want to jump to that part so speaking becomes easier and better and jumping through hoops and not just screwing up,but screwing up the SAME screw up- isn’t part of your life. Because you just feel tangled. You feel foreign to life simply because you are who you want to be now, but who you were smudges the edges and brings the image of you and the idea of you, into an oddly disfigured creature. Is THAT who I am?

I’m still chained to my past. Habits break out and I hate them. I don’t want them but they happen. Addictions that I never thought were, still make there appearance even now. After how much I’ve been wanting and willing and HAVE, changed. They still exist. And it completely bops me off my rocker.

How the fook are they still there when I want nothing to do with them?
I feel better.

Hmm, maybe we all just write because it feels better.

Having Anyone or Anything- Is that Happy?

I’m going to sound conceited, full of myself and empty of humbleness. But these are a few facts from my thinkings.

I could be with any guy.
Any guy I’ve wanted, I’ve had. ( I consider celebrities non obtainable )
I have not had my heart broken, but I have broke many.
When you have a selection of an empire, your happiness seems more difficult to find.
Just like rich people. When you can purchase anything you’d like, the level of contentment stretches beyond what you can actually reach.
There is a statistic that notes of an annual salary above a certain amount. People that make above this number, are usually unhappy.

Which guy will make me the happiest?
I don’t discard them like scraps of metal, but it makes it easier to move on, knowing I’m able to jump on the Relation Ship again. Thing is, I’m always jumping on it with a life jacket around myself. I haven’t ever fully given myself to anyone because I’ve only wanted to feel the waves out.
And you can’t do that expecting to get to a shore of ‘for better or worse’ or ‘for forever’.

I’ve wanted to reach that shore, and believed entirely that I was capable of and willing to with each of my past partners.
But I was not.
You can’t be in a ship with water wings on, a life belt, or while clutching flippers. That’s like having one leg in the water and one leg on the boats’ platform. Like having half your heart with one person, and the other half floating on tree branches or bottles, searching to see if you’ll see anything else float by that looks better.
On the sea I’ve launched myself in, I’ll be 50 with 4 kids from three fathers,sitting on a crappy piece of styrofoam.
At the rate rich people spend and respend and change out for the newest models,they’ll be found in there luxery suite with a bottle of pills next to their dead body.

So where does the issue hide itself.

To my belief, it wraps around our lungs and our soul and coats our spirit with misunderstanding.
Nothing will make you long term happy,and I mean nothing-no new baby, no new job or cold case of beer- if you are not happy with yourself.

If you expect to find it in the layers of clothes you wear,
remember,
you’re the one that stands naked in the shower.

How Bad Does It Have to Get?

I laid on the grass of the park late last night and I looked up through the branches of a wide tree and thought, ‘ This will be the last time I am in this country in August.’
I laid so still in that thought and it rambled into the stars I could not see.
The stars I knew I would, this time next year.
I know I will get through this.
It’s a low I suppose I had to get to, in order for me to really change.
There is a lot of fear but a question of wondering I have, is this really an adequate low?
Am I going to fight against it? Am I going to be too strong? Where the bottom is bottomless and my emotions must be strained more and upheaved more. Where my life has to completely flip upside down, parts where my entire vision gets distorted and not just foggy when I wake in the middle of the night because I cried myself to sleep the night before. It’s perception. If I thought this was flipped up already, then the process to change would have started. Has it already and I don’t know it? Wouldn’t I know it?
How messed up does it have to become, for me to believe it is what I need to change who I am?

Hurting for a Good Reason

I have known for awhile, in the back of my head, that it would crash.
That at one point, life would just fold in on itself.
And I would deal with it then.
That’s what I told myself.
Hurt has now got the strength and has shaped and it’s formed and.. it’s in me. It’s what I have begun to feel. I don’t get hurt often. I really don’t.
But I feel that this is the beginning of the toughest thing I go through.
This will be one of the biggest changes in my life. Coming to terms with things will take awhile.
It’s not like anyone has died,
but a part of me has to. I have to kill parts of me, in order for me to live. And to love.
To love completely.

A Powerful Hospital Visit in Thailand

It’s odd seeing people dressed in bar clothes in a hospital.
At least not in the asthma and allergy center.
As I’m writing this I realise I really could make a valid stand on why bar girls may be in this part of the hospital. Even more of a valid point if they’re with their 75 year old partner.
The real reason I write this post is because of what you’re about to read.

I hated every nurse in the room for the minute ( which seemed like 9 ) that they held Zeek down and took his blood. They wrapped him tight in a blanket and there were three of them standing over and while he began to wail, before I even felt anything,tears formed in my eyes.
I wasn’t expecting to feel what I did. This helplessness. This anger. I just wanted to rip him away from them and hold him. I looked around at everything and I felt hate for Lilo and Stitch. They were on the wall dancing away and they were far too happy.
My stomach turned and I felt thin and almost that I could faint.

And then he was handed into my arms and he stopped crying and put his head down on my shoulder while I wiped away the last of my own tears.
He was sleeping 3 minutes later. In my arms.
And I looked at his face,all blotchy and red and I said, ” I love you beyond what I can tell you, and that will never change.”

I am Back!

So I got into one of the worst funks since 2006 that lasted four days and I can accept that.
I have been givin another chance and I intend to be the best that I can be, from here on out. I have so many plans that have piled up in my head of what I really want to do. Stuff that I finally want to make happen instead of them just being words I’ve been saying for months.
I feel renewed. Ready to start over.
Thank you for second chances.

Incapable of Fixing

I am more ready than I ever have been, to leave this country and live in my own.
Because of this, I am already half out of it. Half living here, half into everything I do here, half gone.
I am very aware of all things negative. Aware of the things I need to be doing to be better. I am aware of my faults and my lack of effort. I am aware of my awful behaviour towards my partner and sometimes even Zeek.
I know all of these things but I feel incapable of fixing it. Of changing it. I feel like I feel nothing sometimes. I feel a lot sometimes. Weights. I feel that I’m watching the days go by because they are what’s bringing me to the days where I am supposedly more happier and that I’m waiting for that happiness instead of creating it.
I am aware the danger in mistaking Canada as my only source of happiness. As the one thing that is going to cure this. I am aware that once I get there, I may be disspointed. That once life starts back up, that there will be things that surprise me or alter what I think makes me happy.

I have breakdowns every now and then, and after 5 weeks of zero contact with my mother, I called her crying. Everything seems so much sometimes.
And it wasn’t until the phone call that I said aloud that it was the unhappiest I’ve been in a long time. Previous to this call I said I was happy, I just could be happier. But the truth is
that.
That I am unhappy and I feel trapped. I feel stuck because I know of all the things to do and ways to be in order to be happy, but I am unable.
I don’t ever recall feeling this way. Inadequate. Incapable. Being upset with me.
I am not depressed but I feel that this is how depressed people feel. Unable to change the slump they are in. Either a mixture of not wanting to, laziness, hopelessness…
I have a lot. I have someone who loves me, I have money to buy things and places to go for massages and manicures and someone who cleans my house and takes care of Zeek when I want to go out.. i have a pool and an oven, a hammock and a chocolate advent calender.I have so much, yet I am sad.
I am guilty of living this lifestyle and not being happy. I am not content, or satisfied or okay with life here. And because I have already convinced myself of that, living a good thing here, becomes difficult.
It is not fair to Morgan or Zeek, to be in such a state. To be in this dramatic low.

I would like to be better.
I would like to feel that I could try. That there is a space to do so in.
I am tired tired tired all the time.

Being a parent is an on going preparation. There are always things to think for. I must think three hours in advance every single day.
And suddenly, taking a trip to the beach or going out for dinner, becomes a chore. And I recognize that it is so easy for people to plan it. For people to get ready and go.
I had friends here this weekend. And I saw it.
That they had no thought of any of the 18 thoughts that I had.
And I realise that I need to be better at this. Better at going with the flow and not caring so much. But at the same time, planning and being prepared, makes it easier.
Planning is slowly making its way into just how we have to do things now. Because that is part of what being a parent is. That won’t change.
But I guess that I continually feel the stress of thinking myself. Of all the things I need to bring and that if I forget something, it is my fault.

I apoligize for the somewhat repetitive nature of my recent posts.
I’m just stuck.

Breakdown

I had a breakdown yesterday. I sat outside on the wooden chairs, facing away from the house with my guitar in hand and sobbed till there was a puddle at my feet. I was involuntarily moving and for the first time in years, I felt fear for my behaviour. I felt panic rise, my stomach going in and out while my hands clenched and unclenched the wooden table.

With ‘Love More and Worry Less’ in my ears, I looked up at the tree and I desired to be right under it. So I stood and laid down on the wooden patio, straight out like a board and I watched the leaves twinkle in and out and I watched the sky flicker between them and I closed my eyes and I wanted sleep.

And then my husband and son were standing over me and I was getting up and I was putting a bottle in the stroller and then son in the stroller and telling husband I was going to walk to Family Mart.

I got a bottle of rum and Coke Zero and I sat down outside while Zeek drank his bottle and I poured my rum into the Coke Zero and we sat watching traffic drinking from bottles.

And later that evening after son goes to bed I will desperately feel a need to call anyone from Canada and I will sit on the bed frantically punching in numbers on my Thai cellphone and will slowly realise that I do not have enough credit. Husband will come upstairs and hand me his phone and I will call my mother and while she sits in a bank parking lot across the world I will sob to her for twenty three minutes and I will tell her it is the unhappiest I have been.

And it is not until I hang up, that the significance of the statement confronts me. I have been telling myself and others that I’m happy but could be happier, not that I’m unhappy or sad .

I pick up Toast, my teddy bear that is larger than me, grab a sheet from the spare bedroom closet and I open the door to the balcony off our bedroom. I lay down with Toast while cars pass below and I fall asleep.

I awake to husband standing over me and I get up and I fall sleep in the bed but it takes me awhile and I do not have a good sleep.

I am unhappy and I have finally said it out loud.
I’ve finally admitted I am.

Down

I melted this morning. Down. Right onto the carpet of the room my sister used to sleep in.
My 10 month old son stared at me, as snot came out of my eyes and dripped down my face and I just let it out and out and out and I don’t even know where it all came from. But I broke. Down. In the room my brothers and I made blanket swings in when we were children.
I am sitting on the front lawn on top of the hill in the chair my mother sat in only two days ago, beside my sucidal younger brother. She sat.
It’s where I sit, alone. And my heart still beats fast and it is 1130 in the morning and I have had 4 cups already and eaten nothing. I handed son to mom and said I need you to take him. And in these minutes out here I’ve somehow mashed something altogether so that it resembes something of a reason. As to my down.
My father left yesterday and I don’t know when I will see him next. We cried as we hugged and I said I loved him more than I ever did before.
My younger brother has left too. Back to university. Now that he has gone my mother tells me he had told her ‘ you’re gonna lose me, you’re all gonna lose me if you aren’t there,aren’t around’. And I don’t believe him at first. I scoff at the idea. And then it sinks in deeper because it actually has weight.
I have been going and going with son and me and I have been preparing bottles and feeding and conversing and carseat switching and walking with father and swinging baby and having food outside at sisters, at fast food at restaurants and it is all me. Because I know baby best and I’m supposed to and rest of family stands back and watches while I try my best to settle and comfort and make good. I am not used to this and I miss my husband.
It bothers me that my mom talks to me about the rest of the kids. It bothers me that we are not an open family and that my younger brother will not say the same things he does to mom, to dad. It bothers me that I feel heavy and bloated and that all my mom can talk about is the wedding of my cousin this upcoming saturday. I am shaking and determined not to eat much of anything the next few days.
It bothers me that best guy friend isn’t around as much because of new girl. New girl I like and have known since grade 10. But I feel alone. I am so sensitive right now and I don’t like it. I don’t want to care that noone is texting me back and I don’t want to feel that I should have plans chalked up for the whole week. I don’t want to care what others think about my care for baby. My mother will say everything about it to my sister. And I hate that I know it will happen and that I will hardly hear much of it. I don’t like caring about so much. So I will try not too. Once my hands have stopped shaking and once I’ve downed another coffee. Because I can’t stop right now. I know I should, but I’m not going to. I will absorb this negative space I am in and I will take a break from baby today, because I am fortunate to be able to, and then I will move on. Rubbing positive lotion between my hands, putting make-up on, wearing nice clothes,doing my hair. I will step out and up. With good energy because I do have control over it. I will step up.