Tag: real talk

Confessions – 12th ed.

SarahLeave a comment

It’s been a minute so I think I’m due for a public admission of my sins and other shit.

New to my shenanigans? I like to confess my things on my blog. It makes me feel ever so slightly lighter and it’s swimsuit season y’all, so any little bit helps. What are your confessions?

  • As much as I hate people, I miss working in the office. And I miss looking forward to coming home.
  • The vanilla cone is back at McDonald’s! GO! RUN! Get one, ten, now! I’ve honest to Google, never been happier. I’ve had a few…
  • Yellow makes me happy. So happy. It’s my spirit color.
  • I think White Claws are trash. Yeah I said what I said and I’m not sorry!!!
  • Right now, I’m winging this thing they call life and it scares the shit out of me. I’m a planner person and the fact that I can’t clearly see in front of me makes me nervous.
  • There are only two things I physically like about myself: my hair (it’s fabulous) and my eyes. That’s it. Self love is clearly something I need to work on…
  • I have created a lot of playlists on Spotify. Most recently I started a Country one. I KNOW. This was shocking to me too. I’m still processing. But my niece would probably be very pleased.
  • I absolutely love to buy underwear. Legit my favorite thing to shop for.
  • It appears that I am chronically behind on good TV. There is a lot of shit out there that I just haven’t seen/binged or only seen part of here and there. The list includes: Curb Your Enthusiasm, How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory, Arrested Development, Archer, It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia…I could go on. I know I know. I should take my 30 days of PTO and dedicate my time to rectifying this mistake.

These are my confessions.

This isn’t about you

SarahLeave a comment

I appreciate your concerns
And thank you for calling
But I don’t want to talk
Yes, it’s you I’m stonewalling

You’re obnoxiously invasive
And all up in my business
When you’re around
I try to leave with the quickness

I know it’s out of love
And the kindness of your heart
But you have some sort of complex
Like Napoleon Bonaparte

You poke and broad
Seek information from others
Provide unsolicited advice
Omg it’s like being smothered

You read into everything
And always have a reply
But I’m quite alright
So please leave kthxbye

Broken

Sarah1 Comment

I feel broken.

Mentally, emotionally, physically. It’s exhausting keeping up with the day-to-day but I have to and so I do. But I want to curl up in the dark with my puppies and sleep. Everything seems off, nothing is right. I try, I fail. Every effort unnoticed or unappreciated. All I want to do is sleep and when I do it’s never enough.

Crying. Unexplained pain. Migraines.

I feel broken.

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But there’s tomorrow. I will try tomorrow.

 

Don’t guilt me.

Sarah4 Comments

I get it. I’m a bad mom. I work full time, I don’t attend every gymnastics practice, I’m not on the PTO, I rarely if ever volunteer at school, I don’t go to church often if ever, I cuss like a fucking sailor, I like my Lady and Diet, I’m not a super fit mom and I lose my temper. I am a bad mom. I get it. You judge me for the way I talk to my daughter like a human being, a young adult instead of belittling her like a 4-year-old. You judge me for not watching my language, for my crazy hair and casual appearance. You judge me for small house, my old car, hell even my mixed family. Admit it – you judge the shit out of me.

It’s okay. I judge the shit out of you too. So we’re even. But don’t – don’t you dare guilt me. Don’t try to make me feel bad for not going to church every weekend or not attending every gymnastics practice. You don’t know me. You have no idea what is happening in my life. You don’t know that sometimes I have to convince myself to get up in the morning, to work through the depression and overwhelming anxiety and push through to be a functioning parent and wife. To find the energy to make a home cooked meal most nights, to study with my kid at night and drive to BFE for the next gymnastics meet, socialize with people when I don’t want to and drive all the way home in the same day. Or to do simple things like laundry, dishes, even getting the mail sometimes seems like a daunting task. So don’t you sit on your PTO pulpit and give me dirty looks for bring in store-bought goods for the class party or not sitting outside on the weekends to gab with the entire neighborhood because I would rather sit in the dark, alone in my room. Do not make me feel bad for not attending every baby shower, birthday, wedding, or party for your mom’s dog’s brother’s friend named Bob because I’m struggling with myself and don’t want to be around other people. DO NOT. DO NOT GUILT ME. EVER.

 

Depression: It’s okay.

Sarah4 Comments

I’ve been a way from my blog for a bit. I didn’t know how to write what I was feeling…. for once. For those of you who know me – I know I know, Sarah at a loss for words. It’s shocking to everyone. I had the words, just didn’t know how to get them on paper (or blog).

Depression. Loads people have it, sure. But when you’re a wife or mother there is a stigma that comes with for some reason. People assume your marriage is rocky or if you’ve recently had a baby, they blame postpartum. But why? I’m happily married to my best friend and I have a fantastic 9-year-old who is full of life…but I suffer from depression. It’s totally okay. It’s like because you’re wife/mother you have to be super human all the time. It’s exhausting. This might come as a shock to some but while mom’s are our personal superheroes they are humans too. And get this – we feel things and have our own problems to solve all while packing lunches, paying bills, holding down a job, managing a household and planning dinner. This shouldn’t be a branding of failure or a mark of inadequacy. Rather a badge of honor – meaning I’m fighting my inner and personal demons. And it’s okay.

Yes there are drugs. Sure there are loads of books with experts opinions. I’m not here asking for your two sense on how to deal with my own depression. I’m just letting you know that if you suffer in silence – it’s okay. There are people who get it, who aren’t here to give you a lecture or advice or judge you.

There are days I don’t want to get out bed, where I dread talking to anyone, where I can’t cope with my feelings or when I overcompensate for them. And I’m a wife and mother. I have depression and am working through it. And it’s okay.