October 10, 2013 by Julia
This might be one of those embarrassing posts – everyone gather round! Hot mess over here, spilling her guts.
I’ve been a little down this week, and by a little down, I mean crying for no good reason on the kitchen floor while my son brings me pretend food on a spatula to help me feel better.
There are no GOOD reasons, but I suppose there are a few whiny reasons:
- My last blog post got no response at all. No comments, no likes, nothing. Not even a spam like, which is somehow better than nothing (although it shouldn’t be, because they are meaningless). As much as I don’t want to go chasing popularity, it is hard to put yourself out there and not get a teensy weensy bit of validation. I don’t need much, and it’s not the main reason I write. But without something, the insecurity gears in my brain wind up, telling me I’m too negative, too weird, too sarcastic when I should be serious, too cheesy when I’m trying to be sincere, etc. And then I start wondering why I’ve never been Freshly Pressed, and bitterness starts to creep in, and none of it is good or helpful.
Let me be clear that I’m not mad at anyone for their lack of response to that post! I am not one to talk; I read several popular blogs that I adore, but have never actually left comments saying so. And anyway, many of you have been wonderfully supportive beyond what I ever expected! There was a time when I couldn’t imagine people might actually take the time to read this thing, and I am honored that so many friends and strangers do.
I’m only saying that it’s easy to lose perspective and start to think that you suck and that everyone else is smarter, more talented, and better-looking. I own that. As much as I aim for self-acceptance, it is HARD work. It’s an ongoing battle. And sometimes I just give up and cry and despise myself and envy everyone else. Because I am human. (Aren’t you glad for the reminder? I know I come across as perfect most of the time.)
(P.S. Since writing the above last night [but not having posted it yet], my mom has “liked” that previous post, which does provide a teensy bit of validation, despite her obvious bias as my mother. But it messes up my pity party, and now I can be upset that the first item on my list has become invalid and you’re probably rolling your eyes right now if you haven’t already stopped reading.)
2. I am tired of playing cruise director. The repetitive, endless work of keeping a household together is getting to me. It’s mostly the constant cleaning, without the payoff of ever having a totally clean house. I’d like to stop doing what I do, for maybe a day or two, and see what state the house is in. Just as an experiment. Need I say more? I’ve waxed eloquent on the subject many a time, so probably not.
3. I think my depression is flaring up. Or it’s hormonal, or that time of the month. Or I’m just a moody person. Who the eff knows? I may feel completely better tomorrow. But sometimes I just feel down, drained, aching, and tired of life. Like I need someone to support me, but I don’t actually have the energy to interact with anyone or get out of the house. Like I want to accomplish something, but I don’t have the strength. Like I don’t know what to do with myself or what to look forward to or how to care.
Sometimes when I feel this way, I just want to grab my kids or husband and hold on tight, fighting back the sense that I’m letting them down despite the overwhelming love I feel for them, and then I ache and ache and I wish that fierce hugs would suffice for the rest of the day, rather than cooking and cleaning and breaking up fights and turning on shows and wiping noses and snacks snacks snacks, for the love of GOD, snacks. But I know this is the work I must to do to show my love – just holding and snuggling is not enough – and so I keep on, albeit with an air of weariness that hardly conveys love, and then the guilt starts all over again.
So, you know, it’s just the life stuff. Last week was great. I was happy. I was feeling utter gratitude for my life – I have it so, so good. I mean, this beautiful family I’ve got, and these caring friends I’ve got, and the way we’ve generally lucked out in life, being born into the middle class of a rich country, and without unusual hardship or tragedy.
But it doesn’t matter. Everyone gets down sometimes. My dear friend and I just exchanged texts last night to that effect, and I took great comfort in hearing that she’s in the same emotional space as me. So let’s just admit it, even if we don’t always feel justified in it. And I won’t judge you for it, I promise.