Sunday, January 15, 2012

Stop it.

With the new year already not as new I am already feeling allergic to myself. Poor G asked how I was feeling 2 nights ago and I think he would have been much better off after prayers to fake sleep.  It was like he brought a little sand pail and shovel asking for a little sand and instead got an entire emotional sand dune dumped on his head.  I had a slight emotional eruption and crying ash and debris was flying every where as I blubbered from one topic to the other without any logical sequence.  I first went into a fascinating dissection of how I will never be as organized or clean as G.  If G organized a parking lot it would look like this:
I then started into how my post pregnancy pooch is like bread dough glued to my gut and how my thighs are not toned and how I do not feel attractive and in my mind I feel like if Liv and I went on a bike ride we look like this (keep in mind that when I am running on emotion with techron, all my images and opinions of myself and the world are grossly distorted but realistic in the moment nonetheless):

Then I finished up with all the things that I feel like I can't change because the same weaknesses have been my barnacle buddies my entire existence and I want to be so much better than I am.  I was like a burbling guyser at yellowstone reeking of drama instead of sulfur as I then launched into a description about how I miss having friends and feel like I am in solitary confinement even though I keep the laws of the land and how being a mom is dang hard. I'm pretty sure I also gave a few shout outs of anti "living in the middle of nowhere" sentiments and how walmart is my source of social joy and interaction with some other irrational comments about how I am not the mother and wife I want to be.
Then we kissed and took this picture. Yea right. Ha. The picture above is what I thought love looked like. So wrong. More accurate would be a pic of me laying in our bed at 1 am crumpled up like a pile of garage sale clothes needing to be sorted with my too big electric orange panama t-shirt and garment bottoms that my brother Mike calls pirate panties, with untoned arms and puffy eyeballs smelling a lot like banana flavored puffs thanks to Liv and mascara staining our white pillowcase that I should have put in the laundry 2 weeks ago and blubbering like a whale.  I didn't marry G because he looks good in pictures (even though he does).  I married him for who he is in moments just like the one described above.  He didn't fix anything at all (he knows way better than that) or even try to be logical (heaven forbid).  He just held me until we fell asleep and when I woke up, I magically felt great. I think the real solution is the clip above.  We all have moments when we realize that we are allergic to ourselves and want to be something different or somewhere different (or maybe just I do and I'm feeling embarrassed for this entire post). I just need to stop it.  Two simple words that I don't apply often enough!  I need to just stop it. It really is that simple. I just forget that in the middle of an Mount St. Chel emotional eruption.  I can change. I just need to stop it.  But in the meantime, I'm really grateful for a man who loves me anyway. Bread dough belly, banana puffs and all.


  1. I hope you don't mind that I am leaving a long comment.
    First-Ugh! I am sorry that you had that emotional explosion. I have a number of times I have done that before.

    Second-Your post made me think of this quote:

    Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.

    Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.

    -Louis De Bernieres

    And that is my long comment.


  2. Chels - Pretty much you are the most amazing and wonderful person in existence. I think we all feel that way at times though...I know I do a lot. But I always wish I was more like You!!! You're the bomb. I miss you. The End.

  3. I feel like I just read my own journal. Amen to it all. And I think our husbands must be an awful lot alike, whenever I read your blog, I'm like "Hey, my hubby does that too/acts like that too/says stuff like that too/etc." My hubby rocks my world, and G sounds equally as awesome. We are blessed women.