From The Inside Out

I’m really not sure what has snapped inside my mind these last few months, but I have started to kind of take a step out of myself and really evaluate what my life is right now. I’m not really happy about it. I have a lot of stuff, I have a lot of literal and figurative baggage and I want to clean it up. I have really been focused on cleaning out my garage, and organizing it. In the process- I am finding a lot of my memories lying around. Picture frames that had my wedding pictures, pictures of my grandma, the little kids. Finding my wedding dress. 

The neat thing about finding all those things was how my mind reacted to seeing them. I was sad that my beautiful wedding dress was going to be donated. I love that dress. It really is so gorgeous. I wanted to have my little girl be able to wear it, or part of it on her wedding day. But the memories that are connected to it are useless now. So it went into a black trash bag for the Arc to pick up. The wedding pictures and pictures of their dad holding them as babies carefully came out of their frames, and I stared at them for a moment. Remembered the face, and took so much pleasure in tearing them up into tiny little pieces and throwing them in the trash, and slamming the frame in there and hearing the glass break. I wasn’t entirely angry, but it was cathartic to sort of release a demon. A demon that had been sitting in my garage for five years. 

This blog is also sort of opening up old wounds, but it is just as cathartic. I am opening a wound that sort of closed over on itself, but the wound was always there. Slowly rotting. I want to rip that scab off and give it some air. Clean it out, and let it heal properly. I want to be the best person I can for myself and for my children. At some point my children will have more to their lives. Part that I may not really be involved it. The older that they get, the less I have to hover around them, and the more time that will be available for me, and my head. And what will there be? I do not want it to be a damaged depressed woman that has no purpose. I want to have something for myself. Be it my art, or my writing, or something that just hasn’t presented itself yet.

So, by cleaning out my garage, my blog, my room, my closets, and soon my storage unit I am ripping my scab off my heart and soul. It is quite exposed and I appreciate everyone that has treated it with such care. I am evaluating friendships, and their relationships to my well being. Looking for signs of toxicity in my life. 

I have started planning more things to do with my kids to create memories. As much as I love to sleep in a binge watch a show, that isn’t something to giggle about during Christmas 10 years from now. I want to get outside, have adventures, have mishaps and laughs. Cry’s. Just make some dang memories. And that is terrifying to me, because I feel like I really have to do that alone. I relied so heavily on having a “someone” with me. Another adult. For the longest time, I needed another adult. Not necessarily an adultier adult, but just another person that could help make decisions. I am an alpha female, and would trump any stupid ideas anyways, but I’m sure you all understand what I’m saying. Ive done a lot of things with the kids this year that was just the three of us, and I have been so stinking proud of myself. And my sweet close friends that know me even tell me they were proud of me, because they knew how hard it is to come out of my comfort shell and do something alone, something that was kind of scary, something that could ultimately end badly. 

Isn’t that how some of the best stories happen though? When something ends badly, but we can all laugh about it later? But my anxious mind always goes to worse case scenario. Like death. (My anxiety and where it leads my head is soooo a blog entry for another day. Ive got a great story about dinosaurs and dancing monsters) So that is why sometimes its so hard to go do something new and different. Hike an unknown trail, go to Silver City. Possibly camping. Because what if?

WHAT IF

Again. Anxiety for another day.

Today is about bravery and healing. And every time that I face a fear, or work on the garage, clean the kitchen, do some laundry and put it away I have been brave, and am now proud of myself. So does it get easier? The quick answer is no. Because if it was easier, I think that I would do it more. I would keep things nice and organized. I wouldn’t let it get to the point where its an act of sheer bravery to clean a garage, or do Lillys laundry. The longer answer is it gets easier to TALK myself into just doing it. “You will make mom happy if you clean up the kitchen. She will have a better day”, “If you do all this laundry and put it away, Lilly will be empowered to keep her room clean, and dress herself as if she isn’t homeless” (It doesn’t work. She has untamable curly hair and is six. She looks homeless)

“If you get up, and go grocery shopping the kids will have something to eat for at least six hours before they eat everything in sight”

“If you take the kids to the park, they will get some exercise and get away from the TV”

“If you go to the neighbors birthday party you will have been social and had an excuse to wear your new lipstick”

It sounds crazy that all of that takes bravery. Grocery shopping stresses me out because of the amount of people and money I have to spend. The park is boring most times for me, and I’m the one staring at my phone. And the neighbor is my friend, but again, I have anxiety around a lot of people and luckily I made the mistake of dating her brother so it gets way awkward. 

I still find a way to do all of those things though. Like a previous post, I am tired of having regrets. I am tired of hiding, I am tired of being sad. I love being my dark twisted self, but I am ready to start sharing that with a smile. I am ready to start some new friendships, I am ready to stop sitting in corners, and finding excuses to miss things. I’m ready to go camping, and fall down a mountain and get a scar and a bruise. I’m ready to start to heal from the inside out.