10 June 2016
Many years ago when I was in 5th grade I got the super fun idea of pretending that I was mad at my best friend Megan. She was amazing. We would play mermaids together, ride bikes all over the neighborhood, play with my dollhouse. She made my childhood extra magical.
Thinking it would be hysterical later, I started acting like I was mad at her on the playground. She didn't know what was going on and on the inside I was laughing because I was such a good actress. Somewhere in this game my world of pretend crossed a line. I don't even know when it happened. Megan came up to me in tears, begging for me to tell her what she had done. She was so frustrated that I wasn't willing to talk to her. To let her know what she had done so we could work it out. Would I please let her talk? I looked at her straight in the eyes and said, "Fine. Talk." and walked away. She told me later that it was like a punch in the stomach.
As I was sitting on the bus to go home that day I was fuming out the window about how horrible she was and was a rotten friend she was... and then it suddenly dawned on me that I had NO idea why I was mad. I had been pretending to the point that I started to believe it. I forgot that it was a game. It wasn't funny anymore.
Many times afterward, and for many years later, she would remember my "joke" and tell me again how it was the worst moment of her life when I just walked away from her.
As I write this out I hate myself all over again.
There is a happy flip side to my pretend. Thank-fully, it works in my favor as well.
For Christmas one year I gave my father a gift-of-self. It means it's something that can't be bought, like service, or time together. My gift to him was smiles. It was a big happy face on a popsicle stick that would give him smiles from me whenever he wanted. I was a very serious child and my father loved to see me smile. It was rare, and maybe that's why he treasured them so much. No.... I love my children's smiles even if they are frequent. He loved my smiles and just wanted more of them.
One Sunday after church I was feeling especially cranky. I don't even remember why now, but I was in a bad mood and did not, under any circumstances, want to smile. So to defeat my Christmas present I put a paper bag over my head with cut eye holes and a goofy smile drawn in sharpie on the outside of the bag.
My father thought it was hilarious and took a picture of me like this sitting on the couch in front of the TV. There I was, eyes glowering out from behind the mask, and the most ridiculous goofy smile hiding my unhappy face.
I wonder if this doesn't have some direct principle that I could apply to my recent condition. Something along the lines of, "Fake it till you make it." Maybe if I did my best to pretend that nothing is wrong. Pretend like I'm not worried about what people think or might be saying behind my back. Pretend that I love life and really embrace everything good I really do have going on. At some point I'll forget. I'll forget about this dark place. I'll only remember that: once upon a time I was unhappy, but not remember the reason why.
If nothing else, it's a good hypothesis that merits experimentation.
And Husband deserves it, too. Much like my father, he basks in my smiles and laughter. He loves me so unconditionally. It's something I've had a hard time understanding, especially when all I want to do is run away from myself. He's told me many times that he feels it his life mission to make me happy. And he tries, but ultimately it's not something he can give me. It's something I must generate from within. And since my happiness is one of his most earnest desires, it's certainly a gift that I can give him. But in order to genuinely get there, I'm going to have to fake it for awhile. Smile through my sadness. Celebrate, though I want to crawl in a hole. Live....
I will do it for him. I love him so much that I hurt that I'm not perfect for him, like he deserves.
Now for a plan: What does my happiness look like?
I'll start with schedule first. This will give me the structure I need to add more things later. I'll feed the kids on time. Take them to the pool at 1:00 pm for the summer. Bedtime will have to start at 9pm from now on. I can do this.
Just breathe.
Many years ago when I was in 5th grade I got the super fun idea of pretending that I was mad at my best friend Megan. She was amazing. We would play mermaids together, ride bikes all over the neighborhood, play with my dollhouse. She made my childhood extra magical.
Thinking it would be hysterical later, I started acting like I was mad at her on the playground. She didn't know what was going on and on the inside I was laughing because I was such a good actress. Somewhere in this game my world of pretend crossed a line. I don't even know when it happened. Megan came up to me in tears, begging for me to tell her what she had done. She was so frustrated that I wasn't willing to talk to her. To let her know what she had done so we could work it out. Would I please let her talk? I looked at her straight in the eyes and said, "Fine. Talk." and walked away. She told me later that it was like a punch in the stomach.
As I was sitting on the bus to go home that day I was fuming out the window about how horrible she was and was a rotten friend she was... and then it suddenly dawned on me that I had NO idea why I was mad. I had been pretending to the point that I started to believe it. I forgot that it was a game. It wasn't funny anymore.
I. Felt. Horrible.
Many times afterward, and for many years later, she would remember my "joke" and tell me again how it was the worst moment of her life when I just walked away from her.
As I write this out I hate myself all over again.
There is a happy flip side to my pretend. Thank-fully, it works in my favor as well.
For Christmas one year I gave my father a gift-of-self. It means it's something that can't be bought, like service, or time together. My gift to him was smiles. It was a big happy face on a popsicle stick that would give him smiles from me whenever he wanted. I was a very serious child and my father loved to see me smile. It was rare, and maybe that's why he treasured them so much. No.... I love my children's smiles even if they are frequent. He loved my smiles and just wanted more of them.
One Sunday after church I was feeling especially cranky. I don't even remember why now, but I was in a bad mood and did not, under any circumstances, want to smile. So to defeat my Christmas present I put a paper bag over my head with cut eye holes and a goofy smile drawn in sharpie on the outside of the bag.
My father thought it was hilarious and took a picture of me like this sitting on the couch in front of the TV. There I was, eyes glowering out from behind the mask, and the most ridiculous goofy smile hiding my unhappy face.
But then, a magical thing happened. Everywhere I went my family smiled at me. They laughed and engaged with me with happiness and love. I didn't feel quite so miserable. I couldn't project my unhappiness on them to sour their day. But they could give me love and acceptance through the windows of my cut eye holes. Pretty soon I didn't need the bag over my head. I was legitimately happy and could take it off.
I wonder if this doesn't have some direct principle that I could apply to my recent condition. Something along the lines of, "Fake it till you make it." Maybe if I did my best to pretend that nothing is wrong. Pretend like I'm not worried about what people think or might be saying behind my back. Pretend that I love life and really embrace everything good I really do have going on. At some point I'll forget. I'll forget about this dark place. I'll only remember that: once upon a time I was unhappy, but not remember the reason why.
If nothing else, it's a good hypothesis that merits experimentation.
And Husband deserves it, too. Much like my father, he basks in my smiles and laughter. He loves me so unconditionally. It's something I've had a hard time understanding, especially when all I want to do is run away from myself. He's told me many times that he feels it his life mission to make me happy. And he tries, but ultimately it's not something he can give me. It's something I must generate from within. And since my happiness is one of his most earnest desires, it's certainly a gift that I can give him. But in order to genuinely get there, I'm going to have to fake it for awhile. Smile through my sadness. Celebrate, though I want to crawl in a hole. Live....
I will do it for him. I love him so much that I hurt that I'm not perfect for him, like he deserves.
Now for a plan: What does my happiness look like?
- A clean house. I can do that. Every morning before breakfast I can get the kids moving and get them to clean with me. General stuff at first, but then we'll eventually get to the deep cleaning.
- Exercise. Oh, that's a tough one. I love how I feel afterwards, but the getting out of bed in order to do it is a killer. I'll have to muscle through this one.
- Going places and doing things. I HATE spending money. It's not that I don't like buying things, it's just that I don't like having the money once it's spent. In a perfect world I would have unlimited funds to buy whatever we liked, wanted, or needed. I'm going to have to concede that in order to make memories and take wonderful pictures of the kids while they are growing up, it's going to require some financial resources. It doesn't have to be much, and I think this is where Pinterest and creativity will come into play. But I can't hide my head in the sand and just sit around doing nothing.
- Me time. I can be a martyr. Giving, giving, giving to everyone else and then withhold time for myself because I've spent so much of myself on others. I'm not talking about ignoring everyone and crawling into my own private hole for the whole day. But, a regular block of time that will just be for me. Time to write. Time to think. Time to just surf Facebook and enjoy stupid cat videos. But when? How about 9pm to 10pm. The kids can go to bed early and I'll have quiet time every evening.
- More Sex. This one is hard. How it works now is that Husband asks whenever he wants a go and he'll get it every time. He can thank Dr. Laura for that one. I have a hard time asking for myself. Maybe its because I feel scandalous. Maybe its because I feel vulnerable. So, I need to do it before Husband can ask for himself. He'll feel loved and wanted, and I'll get a boost of oxytocin to help me feel better. Maybe eventually it can happen during my "Me time" but until I get to that point, maybe I can take Husband upstairs when he gets home from work, plug the kids into all the electronic devices so they won't notice, and just go for it.
- Family Time. At home we need to engage with one another more. I need to take away the electronic devices and demand that we spend time together. Having everyone plugged in can be convenient because they are quiet and aren't making messes (see: strategy for more sex), but too much of it will leave their little brains a quivering mass of jello. Having a well planned out Family Home Evening instead of the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants version we've been having. Reading books to the littles. Playing games with the big kids. Doing projects that reflect the season or holiday. Maybe one project a month until I get my feet under me. Pinterest will help.
- Schedule. Life is so much easier and more productive when we have a plan and work the plan. Tuesday this week was absolutely magical! The whole day was planned from beginning to end. I knew what I was making for dinner. I had all the ingredients. The children's math/writing time was blocked out so they could use the computer and not fight about it. I played board games with the kids. We had healthy and nutritious meals. We went to the pool. Having a schedule was SO incredibly liberating!!! And perfectly productive too! It meant that I made the choice early on and didn't have to think about what to do the rest of the day. As an added bonus, the kids were so thoroughly worn out by the end of the day that they didn't stay up until 11:30 horsing around, screaming, and running around the house like they usually do after we've tried to put them to bed. This strategy will make it easier to accomplish the "Me Time" block from 9 to 10pm.
I'll start with schedule first. This will give me the structure I need to add more things later. I'll feed the kids on time. Take them to the pool at 1:00 pm for the summer. Bedtime will have to start at 9pm from now on. I can do this.
Just breathe.
No comments:
Post a Comment