Love, Art, Life

Love, Art, Life

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Welcome to my Wonderland

So here's the thing I'm learning about truth.  People don't like it.  I must have inherently known this all along, and that is why I wouldn't couldn't speak my truth.  I am a people pleaser.  If there is something someone wouldn't like in the past I would just suck it up and deal with it myself. And for some reason I am really good at reading what others would not like.  That is however changing.  More out of necessity than anything else, and here's why:    
Arthur Rackham [Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons

The truth is that most of the time, maybe, no not maybe-- most of my life I have wished I was someone else.  At this very moment.  I wish I was different.

I guess I have never felt good enough for anything.  Or good enough at anything.  I have no degrees, no skill sets, not even any interests at this point other than staying in bed and hiding under my covers.  I am trying to change that.  That is not how I want to spend my life or at least I don't think it is.  I know it's not a wise thing to do.  But the options?  Drag myself out of bed, put on my mask and get all ready to go out into public and appear 'normal'.  Yeah, sounds like fun, right?  Until I get out there and there is too much stress, too much input (HSP, remember?) and not enough down time for me.

John Tenniel [Public domain],
via Wikimedia Commons
I used to think I was a pretty decent mom.  I have well adjusted children and a husband who says he's happy.  I have had friends who have come and gone.  Most of my life I get the feeling no one has ever really understood me.  Heck I don't even understand me.  I tried to get along.  To be kind and loving when I could. Tried to do right by those in my life at the time. But in the end between all the denying my own feelings, and needs and various traumas that have plagued me even in my adult life I have found that I just can't do it anymore.  Any of it.  I used to say "at some point self-preservation kicks in".  It's an automatic thing.  We are programmed to survive.  Even when it's difficult.  Even when the easiest most pain-free thing to do would be to just give up, roll over and die our nature is to survive. That's the place I find myself in most days.  I want to get up, put on the mask and the costume, pretend I'm fine and go on, but my self preservation keeps me from doing that.  Then I feel that those who love me are disappointed, and saddened that I just won't do it.  They don't understand that I literally can not.  I try to explain,  but I understand it is a difficult thing to comprehend. Especially for children.  I just won't cooperate and don't fit into their perfect little worldviews.  This is difficult for me.  I would love nothing more than to be able to go on pretending until all of my kids are grown.

John Tenniel [GFDL ( or
 CC-BY-SA-3.0 (],
 via Wikimedia Commons
Then the guilt kicks in.  I have spent the majority of my life feeling guilty for everything.  For anything and everything.  I am an expert at pinning things on myself.  I would make a killer prosecuting attorney if I was the accused.  I'd have the case wrapped up in no time and be off to do the time for it.  Where this all comes from I have no idea.  I have tried many ways to change my thinking.  Change my outlook.  Change anything I could think of to make this all go away.  I mean, I'm only hurting myself in all this.  But it's where I am at.  I cannot seem to change it overnight like I'd love to.  I have spent decades trying to find the answers.  At times I fear the answers just do not exist.  Some things we just will never understand.

Where does this leave me?  I have no idea.  I have no illusions of knowing anything anymore.  It's all I can do to take life one minute at a time and try to do the best I can with that.  That's all I can do.  Welcome to my Wonderland.  Where "nothing is what it is because everything is what it isn't.  And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be.  And what it wouldn't be, it would.  You see?"

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