So my mother asked me if I'm insane. LOL. Hi Mom!
I told her, "Yes...why do you ask?"
She said, "You bought baby bedding?"
And her point is...?
Here's my feeling...Nothing makes sense anymore, so why should I?
Of course, the simplest things set of a landslide of emotions without so much as a warning. No loose rocks falling down, no rain softening up the hard earth...just BLAM...it all goes crashing down the hill.
I bought a leather coat. I LOVE my leather coat. I've never owned a leather coat. I look awesome in my leather coat. Why haven't I ever owned a leather coat before? Because I'm too nerdy to wear a leather coat. Do I look stupid in my leather coat? Oh my God, people are thinking how dumb I am.
Get the picture?
I know I have underlying "daddy issues" and I worry too much about what other people think of me.
Here's another of my favorites from recently...
Let's adopt. My period is one day late. Could I be? Maybe I want to be. I do. I want to be pregnant again. But what I feel about a possible pregnancy isn't happiness or sadness or fear...it's embarassment. I'm thinking how people are going to react already! Going to the doctor for all those visits I know I'll have...embarassment.
I still feel like a failure. And that's all wrapped up in how I've always lived my life the way you're "supposed to." You go to school, get a job, get married, get a house, have kids... All so perfect. I don't smoke. I don't drink to excess. I've tried to clean up my language. I did it all the "right" way.
But who decided it was right anyway? And if I were to sit here and define what the right way is...I'm not sure I could do it. So where did this standard come from? And how in the hell am I supposed to live up to a standard I can't even define?
It's funny, because a lot of this stems from buying that leather coat...and watching Grey's Anatomy. Yep. Izzie fell in love with her patient. And someone on the show, can't remember who, said something about not being able to choose who you fall in love with...how you just have to live and not worry about it all so much. And that's me (except I probably won't go nuts and try to perform weird medical procedures I know nothing about on my heart patient fiance). I need to learn how to just live and not worry about it all being perfect.
There are no extra points if you do it all right. When you die, are you going to be glad you did x, y, or z? Or are you going to be glad you didn't do them because they weren't socially acceptable? If I die today, I'll be glad I bought the leather coat. But there's so much more that I want to do. If only I could stop worrying about what everyone might think or say.