The Twilight Zone

Hey y'all! I hope you've been well, as have I. But I must admit than more than well I've been... different. In a good way.

See, of late I've felt wonderful and strong but I've cried loads as well. I've worried and not cared, I've been fed up and cinical and exploded and then been totally blissful and radiant and then angry and dissappointed. I don't remember being happier at times, and at others I can barely recognize myself. A few friends are actually worried!

I've allowed myself to be very pissed off and I've allowed myself to show it. And others to suffer it. But believe me, they had it coming.

And all this 'cuz I got too tired. And when I'm too tired, it can be an issue to others because they don't know what the heck to do with me. Deference, subtleness dry up in me and I become direct and even a tad bit heartless beyond this point of no return where there is just no freakin' stopping me and I don't give a damn how ruthless I am.

I passed that point recently. It felt great for me, very liberating. Others... not so much. I'm sorry if I hurt anyone, but I don't want to take back anything I said or did, or say and do. I can't anyway so whatever.

Overall, my tolerance for crap has diminished a great deal. I might be going over the edge a bit, and truth be told I lost it but there's only so much I can do. I am now deep within the twilight zone.

I just hope I don't over do it and am smart about it all.

Wish me the best!

Can't I just get a break?

Sheesh, will I ever get over this? I seem to have had a relapse of some sort. You could say that this process started with Episode, I interpreted it in Cracks on the sidewalk, but it's still depredating me physically.  After the angst I'd been feeling lately, its catharsis, and my so-called being emotionally and mentally better, this. First day into vacations here in Mexico for semana santa,  I'm awakened by this horrible burning in my stomach. It was so bad, I'd been a while since I was in so much pain.

I also had this feeling of being completely empty as well and I was ravenous. So I picked myself up to go to the kitchen and eat, but instead I had to detour into the bathroom to throw up. When I finally got to the kitchen I got some bread and ate, wasn't able to keep it down and ended up in the bathroom again. By this time hubby had heard me and quickly went to the pharmacy to see if he could get me anything. The medicine, worked (to some extent), and I went back to sleep with an upset stomach.

I haven't gone to the doctor yet, I don't want to make this bigger than what it already is. I've been avoiding coffee and citrus fruit and anything acid. And I was fine. Except this morning when I started to feel the same. Thankfully, it was only just starting, so I got to the medicine quickly, had a good breakfast and was able to avoid it getting worse. I supose I'll just have to be lot more careful with my body and what I eat from now on in schedule and content.

So there you go. My body could just not forgive me, and now I'm taking the toll of all the mental issues I'd been having. But what frustrates me the most is that I feel so normal! I feel fine! But this comes up...!? This is becoming way too tiresome a subject. I don't even eat chili!

All I want is to integrally move on. On the emotional, mental and physical level.

Darn it!

Cracks on the sidewalk

I'm much, much better now. Feelings from the recent episode still linger in the air behind me, and though I could easily walk toward the direction of the wind as to leave the memory behind me, I'm not sure I want to. If at the time it happend I was suprised at its ocurring at all, I still haven't completely figured it out.

Though chameleon like to the world, I've always prided myself on knowing what was going on (at least consciously) inside of me. Whether I acted dumb or aware or not, whether I admited it to others outside myself or not, whether my reasons were real or imaginery, I knew. This time, however, I wholly did not, and that's what baffled me. I've been trying to make it out, without avail. The only reason that can explain this outburst is change.

Change is of course a constant in the world and in ourselves. Failure to take it into account can only result in error, as my case can ilustrate so well. I've changed. But to me, this goes a lot deeper. Because I don't think people change. I think people just show different sides of themselves to others depending on numerous factors and as to how well they know themselves. And only knowing oneself can one accept oneself.

I don't think my paradigm on life has changed, nor my priorities nor values. My actions will probably remain the same. This change is so deep yet so sutil, it'll be noticed like you notice the cracks on the sidewalk. But it'll be there, immutable. Just try and force the cracks on the cement back to their original form. You just can't.

A cracked sidewalk is still a sidewalk.

But would those new openings in the sidewalk have ever seen the light if the cement hadn't cracked? No. They would've remained hidden to everyone, even to the sidewalk itself. And yet again, no matter how many capricious formed cracks there are in the sidewalk, they all belong as a whole.

I lost my cool for a while the other day. I admit it. But is that part of me alien to me? Does it deserve to be rejected? No. And I will now abandon apologetics and rhetoric and metaphors and analogies and speak plainly.

That day, that part of me didn't need to be understood. It needed to be spoilt and embraced. I needed to be spoilt and embraced just because. Because I'm a person. With good and bad qualities, like you, like everyone. And I accept that. I accept that need that might be selfish and irrational, but it's still a part of me. And if I don't accept me and be nice to me, even when I don't "deserve it", then who the heck will?

I now walk forward but that Episode is no longer a shadow hovering around me, a stranger in my midst. It now wraps itself around me like a sweet comforting aroma, this new knowledge giving me a new dignity in the middle of all my imperfections.

Episode

I cracked the other day. Just exploded. I'd been feeling very pressured a couple days before, but I thought I had it all together. I didn't though.

The morning started out fine, it being sunday we got ready to go to church as always, but I was running a bit late. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, when something just triggered this weird reaction. You see, Hubby was helping me sort out the laundry, and he was tossing it from the patio where it had been hung up to dry to our living room where we were going to fold it. But I was oblivious to this and passed by just in time for some clothing to hit me in the head.

I recolied and felt very upset for a few seconds but I still had a lot to do, so I went on my way and ignored the feeling. But as we got into the car and I wasn't in movement anymore I started to freak out. I felt suddenly extremely upset and a million different thoughts popped into my head. My breath quickened and my eyes started to tear up. I felt more anxious by the second.

I'd felt this way before and I had no intention of winding up in the same hole, so I and tried to calm myself down before it was too late. I fought to control my breathing and tried to empty my mind from the incoherent thoughts that were rushing into it. I bit a pen to keep my bottom lip from trembling, turned my head so Hubby wouldn't see my face, and braced myself.

It worked, to some extent. I didn't speak until I was sure I could trust my voice. It sounded off, but nothing that would draw attention to myself. We arrived at church and were almost through the door when I realized there were people inside. A lot of them. And even though I hadn't actually seen them yet, I just couldn't take the image of being surrounded by so many persons, pretending everything was ok. I stopped and told my Hubby that I couldn't go in there, that I was sorry.

Hubby had been walking ahead and he turned back to look at me. His expression was so confused. He asked me why, and why I'd waited until we practically had one foot inside church to tell him that. I only answered that it was complicated, and he must've realized how bad I really was because he didn't ask anymore questions and did as I'd asked.

After church I'd been planning on visiting a friend, and he started to drive Belle Fille and me there, only he parked a few blocks before to ask me, really ask me, if I was ok.

Tears started to spill one after the other as thoughts half formed in my mind at the same pace. I could no longer keep a straight face nor answer in an orderly manner. I'd been trying so hard to keep control of myself and thought I'd succeded. But I'd been wrong.

It took a while for Hubby to get all the frustration and sadness and anger out of me. I'd just closed up so much... even I was suprised at how much. Prudence and self control are very important to me as a person, though I don't really mind it when others lack these atributes. But in me, I just can't condone it. So I try very hard to remain always the same, no matter the context.

When I was a teen and even a child I hid most of my feelings from others but for a friend or two, and even then I'd downplay it. It wasn't very hard: everyone has their own problems and besides, I'm quite the actress. A smile was always my first reaction to a problem. I'd just pretend everything was ok you know? Even if it hurt me, it was the only way I knew to manage my problems. But as a wife I'd been trying to change and rely more on others, especially on hubby. And I thought I had. But I was wrong.

I thought I was over this. I thought I had opened myself up. But this short episode told me otherwise. I fool others so easily, even I was taken in. I feel like such a fraud. Worse. A fraud that didn't know she was a fraud.

A float in doubting waters

I know this is probably not the best way to start a post so early in the year, but I've got to get this out so I can get over it. I'm not feeling at my best right now. Quite the reverse. I feel like a terrible--- you name it. Mom. Student. Me. However, my baby's love keeps me afloat. (That and my Hubbys and families and friends love, but that's not the point of this particular post)

Belle Fille has had a really bad rash for over a week now. She started with diarrhea, I suppose because I started to use this new spice in our food, a chili. And it's hurting her very much. I just feel so bad because it's my fault she's in pain. I should've been way more careful with her diet and even though I had been changing her diapers regularly, I should've done it more. She also caught a cold so between a sore nose and a sore bottom, Belle Fille is not in a nice place. At least she's getting better.

At school you remember I had some difficulty last semester, and now I can't seem to get the paperwork that goes behind it straight. I bet they must be tired of me at the school office since I've been calling so frecuently . I just can't seem to be able to do things right, it's like I finally have the chance to fix x but I forget about z but by then I've lost my chance and have to start all over again. I just... grrr.

As for me, I've been more forgetful than usual. I'm a scatterbrain at best, but I'm in danger of falling into an unconscious and irresponsible parent. For example, since Belle Fille has been sick, we took her to do these analisis but now I've lost them and we're taking her to the pediatrician today and need them. I haven't a clue as to where they are and since I'm not at home right now (trying to fix the college thing) my hubby will have to go look for them without the least idea of where to start. He has loads of work right now and can't spare the time to barely eat but he doesn't have a choice but to look because his dumb wife lost the darned papers. Some ideal helper I've been.

On a less important, but none the less frustrating note it's been called to my attention that some people have been talking ungraciously of me behind my back. Some of these comments have been from people who judge how I look but don't even know me, and it's been on my lack of fashion sense so, really, whatever. I know that I'm not a fashionista and I can definetly work on getting my clothes combinations better but I don't feel the need. I feel comfortable and pretty, but it doesn't seem to be enough anymore now that I'm married and have an "image" to maintain. Needless to say, my self esteem has taken a hit.

Other people, people close to me, have put into doubt my capacity or matureness as a mom. Yes, I'm young. Yes, I lack experience in many areas. I'm more of a laisser faire person, but ever since these comments that have repeated themselves came to my ears, I've been doubting if I've been careless of Belle Fille.

Usually when my baby falls down while walking I check she's if she's not really hurt, smile, but tell her she can get up by herself, that nothing happend. I don't make a fuss, and I believe that's encouraged and independent, self-sufficient personality in my child that I love and know will help her no matter her age. When Belle Fille catches a cold, which isn't every often, I tend to try and ride it out so that her inmune sistem has the time to strengthen itself. And it's worked out pretty well, until now.

I feel eyes on the back of my head, murmuring. That I've been careless, that I'm too wrapped up in my own little world of books and school to be a good mother. I know that people think I'm selfish of my time, that instead I should be giving it all to Belle Fille. I play with her every few hours. I read to her every day. I take her to the playground that's close to our house two or three times each week. But I also admit that I also let her play by herself for a while a few times everyday. Sometimes it's from lack of time or from excess things to do. But sometimes I just sit and read or write.

Why don't I use those spare minutes to play with her? Because she needs to learn to entertain herself. To have the capacity to be by herself, but not be necessarily lonely. I learned that the hard way, and so I want her to learn it the easy way, full of confidence and exploring but still feeling safe and secure, still feeling that I love her. In these moments of playing by herself, I do pay attention to her, I am available. If she comes to me and shows me what she's drawing or her toy, I'll receive her with open arms and talk to her and remind her the special, inteligent, wonderful person that she is. But then I'll gently let her carry on with her bussiness, and I'll do the same while still staying close and available.

I see the results already and am so happy to see that my child is not a frightened little girl that cries when she falls down (when she's not hurt for real) or when she isn't able to do something. If she falls she gets up. If she needs help, she comes to me, but leaves once I've shown her how to do what was causing her problems with a smile on her face. She'll come and hug me and give me a kiss one moment, then walk around to explore the house the next, and will come back to proudly show me her newest discovery with another kiss and another hug.

Yes I am young, but that doesn't mean that I do everything without a purpose, just to have some time to myself. I've got stuff I'm working on, and stuff I'm bad at, just like the rest of the world. But those prying eyes and poisonous tongues,will never, ever, be able to cloud the love I have for my daughter. Criticize my looks, my house keeping, my grades, but I disdain your attempts to begrudge me. The relationship and love my daughter and I share is far greater than that.