I’ve been working on establishing my own space lately. Both figuratively and literally. Like really making it my own. I’ve been very deliberate in this process, as I’m in a renaissance. And I’m being choosy. In all things.
Lately I’ve been working on my home office (since apparently I’ll be working from home indefinitely) and I stumbled upon some of my old stuff. Found my original Gameboy with Tetris. It’s fully functional and for the record – I still think it’s the best game ever. The music is just as awesome as I remember. Oh and I still kick ass. I also found a few old sketch books. Funny to see how my doodles have evolved some. Not much but some. And even how Soph and I are into drawing the same things at similar ages.
I also came across some of my poems. Like from almost 20 years ago. 😲 Woah. Let me just say. Y’all think I’m a head case now?! You don’t even know the half of it. Some of that shit was dark and some of it was just straight crazy. I might get brave and share a few. Might. Crazy to take a small peek back at life before bills, responsibilities, motherhood, etc. You know when we were young, carefree and well rested. Feels like an entirely different universe…
But setting up my own space has been really good for me. Liberating, insightful, cleansing…all the things. And I’m learning about myself. It seems in the years past, I’ve manage to lose myself. And worst of all, I didn’t even know it till recently. How does that even happen?! Who does that to themselves? Sigh. But I digress.
Now, I’m working on finding me all over again. It’s all a work in progress. I’m a work in progress.
At the end of relationships there all these emotions – hurt, sadness, betrayal, etc.. But then there are also the unspoken feelings. Depending on who you are – they could be relief or hope. But there can be feelings of rejection. The I-wasn’t-good-enough-for-them-so-they-left-or-found-someone-else feelings. And one that I feel is kind of overlooked – feeling unwanted.
Think about it for a moment. This person broke up with you, so naturally rejection makes sense. But deep down in your core you begin to feel ugly – from the inside out. Everything from your personality to your outward appearance you begin to question.
Why do I act like that? Why am I so stupid? Ew, why are you so fat – stop eating so much! What’s with your hair? Why are you ugly? God, I can’t stand to look at your face in the mirror!
After all – this person is leaving you, therefore you are flawed. Something is wrong with you. If you were smarter, thinner, prettier (more handsome), sexier, funnier….then maybe, just maybe they would still want to be with you, need you, love you. Right?
But they don’t. They don’t want you or love you or want anything to do with you…. (see where I’m going with this?)
It’s a downward spiral into the deepest, darkest corners of your psyche. And it fucks.you.up. It’s more than being unwanted…it’s this constant sense of being repulsive. You know that feeling when you’re about to throw up? The blood drains from your face and you can feel it coming and dry heave a bit. It’s like that but amplified and the trigger is you.
You hate all parts of yourself, suffer from self doubt, and over apologize for all the things. You’re lonely even when you’re not. You hide in plain sight. You’re anxious, scared, depressed, all the feelings and yet still feel completely numb. You hurt mentally, emotionally and sometimes physically. You can’t do anything right. You’re holding on by a thread…
It leaves you suffocating in total darkness.
And the longer the relationship, the more severe the pain. It cuts so deep, on a soul level and it’s hard to recover from. You soon make this near functional state your new normal and master the art of pretending to be okay.
To be honest, there are fewer things I have experienced that are worse and pushing out a kid wasn’t one of them. It’s dreadful and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Not even the ex that broke me.
But with endings, there come new beginnings, right? Light at the end of the darkness. A period of revival, a renaissance.
New here? I’m a notorious confessor. I already have this problem of being very blunt (the bluntest blog – get it?) but on top of that I tend to confess things to the bloggy-verse. *shrugs* Oh well, shit happens. AND this whole global pandemic thing isn’t helping AT ALL. So…let’s begin.
I miss seeing people I actually like. Yes, I am locked up with my kid and yes I like her most days. But I mean people I actually like and want to spend time with. You know?
I have a secret hiding place for a Costco size jar of salted, dark chocolate caramels. JUDGE ME ALL YOU WANT BUT I LIVE WITH MONSTERS.
As of late – I’ve been very into my horoscope and have fallen into the madness that is Secret Tarot’s YouTube channel. She’s incredible.
I’m a difficult egg to crack. It’s hard for me to trust, to put my guard down. Very few manage to get through. And when I do finally let my walls down…I surrender completely.
I put on perfume everyday after I shower. Yes, even if I’m not going anywhere. Why can’t I feel pretty? There is no need to live like animals.
We have a cat – Kiko. He’s a great cat and I like him. I just don’t want a cat.
I can’t seem to journal, as of late. It’s like I lost the ability to write. So I’m doodling. Lots and lots of doodling.
We’ve only lived in this house a year but I can honestly say I’m not big on my new-ish neighbors. They are nice enough and don’t appear to be serial killers or anything. But my old crew were THE BEST and these new people just don’t have it.
I’m convinced my hair has stopped growing and is falling out. Stressing about it isn’t helping – that is for sure. But I’m in my thirties for Christ’s sake! So I’ve invested in shampoo and conditioner to help my hair grow. I know, right? It’s a thing – put it in the Google.
Lately, I’ve been sleeping cattywampus or completely sideways in bed. It feels more occupied that way.
The best part about social distancing is that I now have a legit excuse to socially distance from my family.
My kid is obsessed with Nutella. Sometimes I sneak a spoonful (or two) when no one is looking. And then when the jar runs out super fast I totally scold her for eating too much of it.
I feel like 2020 will be the year I get my first tattoo or a new piercing… something permanent to represent change.
Last year I began my own renaissance. It was slow but steady and I accomplished some things. In 2018 I:
logged 80+ workouts
lost 35 pounds
went to the gym by myself
took my dogs to the beach for the first time
faced some of my own demons and hard truths, acquired some new ones along the way
cleaned out my Monica closet (props to those who know what this is)
bought a home
read but not nearly as much as I wanted to
bought myself something expensive and got over the mom guilt
survived another year of parenting a tween
I shared some of my progress along the way to celebrate the small wins. Because in life you have to call out the small shit, right? And I’m definitely not done. The year is well on it’s way and the renaissance must continue…
There is sooo trash in the world. So much darkness. I am cleansing all that crap out of me. Doing a little Marie Kondo on my mental, emotional, spiritual and physical baggage to make sure I am only carrying the essentials (and they are neatly folded). It won’t be easy but I’m here for it all. Then I’m hoping I can contribute to the positive. Live in the light and put some light out into the world. Because boy do we need more light in our lives. Am I right or am I right?
I don’t have particular goals or resolutions. But just as renaissance implies – I am continuing the rebirth of a better version of myself. I hope that when I take stock of the things I’ve done in 2019 that my list spreads the whole gamut of human health. Because above all things – I’m committed to myself. I need to be the best form of me to be the best mom, partner, daughter, sister, friend, co-worker, and or stranger on the goddamn street I can be.