Sometimes I wish there were text bubbles that pop up from my head with the thoughts that run through it. You’d probably wind up exhausted and your eyes rusted from having to read so fast. It’s like the ending credits to a movie that has too many and they flip through them with the assumption you’re this computer that can just cloud this information and obtain it instantly. The thoughts are usually pretty ridiculous. I have to sort through them myself in order to find the real me and what the real me would say or think or do. And yes, this is an exaggeration, but nonetheless I feel this extreme at times in my head.
My point to that previous paragraph is that I have been trying to figure out how I wanted this blog to initiate itself. My anxiety keeps telling me I have to get out all this information right away so you can understand who I am and why I am the way I am. It’s rapid firing all these suggestions that I know don’t need to happen ASAP, but in turn makes me feel they need to. My OCD then says I need to start in chronological order, start from the very beginning from when I was a child to now. And I seriously consider this OCD most of the time. Problem is, OCD doesn’t account for change. It only makes sense to use this OCD way of life because of the order and structure it provides when things in life are otherwise chaotic and out of control. And then my depression kicks in and tells me, I don’t need to do any of this. No one, not especially kids I grew up with in my hometown are going to want to even read this, I’m not important enough to get my story out, I’m worthless and I should just go watch a movie (I have Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince going on in the background right now) and fall asleep because I never get enough sleep, even though I have. And once I’ve sorted this all out and gotten through the ridiculousness that presides as dialogue in this brain of mine, I realize my true potential. I AM somebody. I may have been a kid who was picked on from grade school through high school, but I am WORTHY of sharing my story and sharing who I am today.
Yes, I am complicated at times. I’m also kind of “slow” per say because I really like to process things. I want the best out of every situation, the good, the bad, the ugly, and the pretty. I enjoy finding happy mediums even though sometimes one of those inner dialogues wins and I’m not exactly “in” to being happy. So, I decided, the real me of course, to say fuck it all and take the risk. Fuck what people think. I have been through hell and high water to get where I am today and I’m not about to lose a fight within myself because I’m afraid of what people will say when I tell them I have been married twice (still currently married to my second husband), I have four children, I don’t have a career (I’m a glorified lunch lady), I am a survivor of domestic violence, I hurt people I love, people I love hurt me, I am all over the place when I talk at times, I got rid of my Lincoln Navigator and downgraded to a Dodge Grand Caravan because I really penny pinch for no reason at all. I owe no one an apology for being me. I owe no one an explanation as to how I got to be who I am today. But the good Lord knows I’m going to explain some things because I want to be relatable and genuine. People have tried for YEARS to depict me as someone I am not and by doing this, there is no twisting that information because they’ll have it in black and white for ALL to see. I will be, unapologetically, me. Take that judgey-Mcjudgertons! In your face!
Ok, but really, I most likely will begin, as my OCD is telling me to do, at the beginning. I’ll try not to be long. I know I can be wordy! But for now, this mama is going night night in bedy-bye land because I have work tomorrow, at the school, as a lunch lady, where I see my kids every. single. day. And if you couldn’t tell by that statement, my kids mean EVERYTHING to me!