The Unbearable Heaviness of Being

Yes, a tad melodramatic on the title, but that's how I'm rollin' tonight. 

I am completely overwhelmed about being a parent. About being a grown-up (or pretending to be). I was so envious of the people having dinner and drinks on the sidewalk while I pushed the stroller past them for our evening stroll.  Zach and I have been arguing having discussions about our responsibilities as parents and partners. This is all a normal part of life. So WHY DO I FEEL LIKE SUCH A FUCK-UP?  Why can't I ever push my life beyond "ordinary" and into "extraordinary"? Because I procrastinate too much? Because I'm filled with fear of failure? Because my brain has disintegrated into dust? 

If you look around and all you see is shit, get your head out of your ass. 

I heard that on Friday night, and I laughed because it rang so true. 99.9999% of all the problems in my life derive from one source...me. I can't point the finger at any outside person, place, or thing for the way I'm feeling because I'm CHOOSING to feel this way. I'm in that place where you know you feel like shit, you know you want/need to change things in a big way, but you don't know what the first step is. Get back into school? Chop off my hair? Become a vegetarian? 

When I say those things, it reminds me of what I've done in the past. When I was unhappy, I would try to change the outside scenery. I'd move, or dye my hair. I changed my friends, home, occupation, persona. I would run, run, run. And I today I know that none of this works. It doesn't fix the unease gnawing inside of you. The dissatisfaction and restlessness. The self-loathing. As god-awful corny as it sounds, if you don't change from within, it doesn't matter if you have a big house, a beautiful family, a nice car, or an impressive career. You can't appreciate any of it because of how ugly you feel. Trust me, I know from experience. 

So here is my first little step--getting my thoughts back out there and holding myself accountable for change. Tomorrow, I'm going to help others. Be of service by watching a friend's daughter, picking my sister up from the train station, and going to a meeting with my girlfriend. 

Get out of self. 

"Grant that I may seek rather to comfort, than to be comforted--to understand, than to be understood--to love, than to be loved.  For it is by self-forgetting that ones finds..."

Moving Block

I haven't been wanting to write lately because of my foul mood this week. When I'm in my pit o'despair, I tend to isolate and avoid the things that make me happy (go figure). We're in the eye of the moving storm and I'm surrounded by boxes and Ikea crap and a massive pile of paraphernalia to drop off at Goodwill. It's so sad, whenever I bring out the tape-dispenser now to close up the boxes, Addie looks at me and her eyes start twitching, she cringes, and then she covers her ears in expectation of the loud ripping sound. Breaks your heart, it does. Thank god this will be over soon and we'll be in the house by next week, because we are so very sick of this apartment. Sick of waking up every hour to dogs barking outside, sick of sleeping on an air mattress in the living room, sick of our neighbors slamming their door as hard as possible, sick of not being able to flush the toilet at night because it will wake up Addie (gross, but necessary). 

So my apologies for the ranting and the lack of entries--I am trying to commit myself to at least three a week once we're in our new place and the internet is up. The birds will sing once more, Addie will sleep through the night, Zoe will frolic in the yard, Zach will delight in installing his patch panel to provide high-speed internet in every room, and I will feel creative again. 

xoxo, A.