Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Big Bug Eyes & Who I Am

I have to share this story about my daddy. When I was a little girl, I had a huge crush on a boy that I hung out with at recess. I thought he liked me too. Being a little first grader, my heart had never been broken before. One day, that boy made fun of me because I had "big bug eyes". I cried. The next day, I didn't want to go to school. I was embarrassed about my big eyes and most of all, I was hurt. I purposely missed the bus. My dad ended up taking me to school that morning. I cried and begged not to go. My dad asked me what was wrong and I told him what the boy said. My dad said "I fell in love with your mom's big brown eyes. Your eyes are beautiful. Don't let some silly boy tell you otherwise. When you are older and that boy falls in love with your big beautiful eyes, you tell him I am sorry but your eyes are too small. Then you bat your big brown eyes at him and walk away." I never forgot that conversation. Love you daddy.

I have seen a few other bloggers doing this lately.  I think it is great.  I'm not the best at writing my emotions without offending someone.  So I try really hard to keep it all to myself.  It's not that I think offensive things... it's just that people don't always understand my point of view and I can't explain it correctly.  Well, here's my chance to voice a little bit of what's been on my mind lately.

My dad is very proud of me.  My mother tells me all the time that she doesn't worry about me because she knows I'll figure out a way.  My parents believe in me and support me.  They think I have a good head on my shoulders, and they know I can accomplish so much with my talents and my drive.  I wish I saw myself from their eyes.

I don't always like myself.  I know, not everyone does.  But I've battled with it a lot.  I feel like a cry baby that whines all the time.  I am my worst critic.  I will call myself awful names.  If I fall behind on anything, I will equate it to my self-worth.  I use to see a therapist.  She told me I was a clinical perfectionist.  If something isn't perfect, I will give up, I quit, I tear myself apart, and my atmosphere greatly affects my feelings and behavior.  And you know what - she's right.

I took Prozac to overcome a lot of emotional turmoil.  I'm not on it anymore - but I do wish I continued it.  I was a much more pleasant person.  I liked myself more.  I was more laid back.  Honestly, I like me better on Prozac.  Doesn't that sound bad?  Someone told me it was addictive, but I wonder "is it addictive because I prefer my life to be that way?"

I used to be such a happy child.  I was grossly optimistic about everything.  I loved everyone.  I made friends everywhere I went.  As I got older, that went away.  When I was active in church, I was in high school.  I always went to church with my family as a whole.  I loved it.  I felt closer to God.  Life was pleasant.  Things just seemed to fall into place.  I was happy again.  I tried to bring church back into my life, but every time I went by myself, it just wasn't the same.  So of course, I fell back into my funk.

Every day, I call myself some awful names.  "I'm lazy."  "I'm ugly."  "I'm mean."  "I don't deserve this."  "I'm ungrateful."  "I'm dumb."  "I'm not worth it."  "I'm hateful and bitter."  "I'd be a terrible mother."  "I'm selfish."

Travis hears me say this.  Today, I fell deep into a funk.  Every once in a while, I will just wake up, and everything will feel wrong.  I will refuse to go outside and be seen.  I won't want to talk to anyone.  I want to bottle myself up and lock me away.  I will sleep until the day passes.  That's what happened today.

I stayed up late trying to find paperwork.  I had a dentist appointment at 7:45 AM this morning.  Sure enough, I slept right through my alarm this morning.  I had a list of things I wanted to get done today - and going to the dentist was number 1.  You want to know how many things on my To-Do List that I actually accomplished today?  ZERO.

I missed the dentist appointment.  "OMG, Liz, you are so unreliable.  Why would anyone want to hire you for a good paying job?"  Boom.  I skipped going to a company that has my dream job available.  I already sent a resume to them, but I wanted to go in and introduce myself and present a portfolio of my work.  I stayed in bed instead.  I looked at my portfolio and pointed out everything that is wrong with it.  I tossed it aside.  It wasn't good enough to give out to someone looking to hire.  I was going to go to the zoo to volunteer today.  Did I do that?  Nope.  I got up out of bed, looked at the time.  I had about 3 hours until the office closed.  "You are so slow, you can't get ready in that time and get there in enough time to get anything done.  Way to go for ruining the day!"

I didn't go.  I looked at myself in the mirror and called myself mean names.  I looked around our room - which needs some serious attention right now since Travis and I have been working non-stop.  It's a mess.  I felt like a terrible wife.  Here I sit, sulking, and Travis is at work busting his butt to make a decent paycheck.  He can't do it all.  So automatically, I hate myself for not helping it out like I should.  I'm not a good wife.  I don't deserve him.

Travis called me to talk during one of his breaks.  I told him I'm having one of my bad days.  He talked to me, saying it was all ok.  The company has my resume.  I can turn my portfolio in next week and fix it up how I want it until then.  It was no big deal.  He said, "oh wow, you missed a dentist appointment!  Who cares?  It happens.  Just reschedule it.  Yeah sure we just lost $25.  But oh well, you didn't mean to!"  I told him how I couldn't get up to even go out to the zoo.  He said "It's VOLUNTEERING!  They said you can go in whenever you want.  You made your own deadlines and schedules.  It's not that big of a deal!  Just go in on another day."  (I found out later that no one was even in the office today anyways because of an event.)  I told him about how I felt like I can't accomplish anything.  Our room is a disaster and I'm just messing things up.  He told me to just do some laundry and relax.  I'm burnt out.  He then invited me to dinner when he went on break just so I could get out of the house.

I'm lucky to have Travis who understands me.  But I haven't told my parents any of this.  I dodge their questions when they bring anything up.  I don't want them to think less of me.  I know that they won't.  I just feel like I owe it to them to be a good daughter - a daughter to be proud of.  Right now, I'm not too proud of myself - so why should they be?  

I have these terrible funks.  I know I don't broadcast my downfalls.  I only try to post the happy stuff.  I only try to post the pleasant things in life because I don't want to recognize these bad moments I have.  I don't want to be a whiner.  I don't know how to overcome this.  The answers seem so easy and simple. Just get up and do what you have to do.  Don't think.  Just do it.  But some days, I can't and I don't know why.

**ETA:  I should clarify so that no one takes this out of context.  When Travis told me to do some laundry, it's because he knows doing laundry puts me in a better mood.  I don't know why, but I enjoy it.  It also needed to get done anyways.  And since our room is a disaster and it's mostly clothes, he knows that our room being a mess is affecting my behavior.  If I, myself, get up and make it better - it puts me in a happier mood.  He was not trying to domestic me or be chauvinistic in any way.**

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