Today

I'm in kind of a funk. Not to mention I want to yell at the mom who is letting her small child kick the wall repeatedly and loudly right now. Grrr...

Anyhoo, not sure why I'm in a funk. I mean I don't feel my healthiest but I don't feel my sickest either. Maybe if I stopped sitting in weird position. My back doesn't feel the greatest.

Okay I can guess why I don't feel great. I spent most my day just zoning out on Facebook and Amazon Video. It's not necessary. I don't know why I numb myself with such activities. I mean I love looking at all the FB updates but when you're reading the same stories over and over again.

I was just averse today. Averse to talking, calling, getting things done. I have so much to do and I don't want to do any of it.

It's not like I was depressed or anything. Just tired. And cold. And whatever. Exercise probably would have helped. Why don't I do the things that make me feel better? What the heck is wrong with me?

And what is with my self-defeatist behavior. Let's see...reading...reading would help right now.

The Meaning of It All

My therapist issued me some homework. I was supposed to think of a time that hurt me. Not physically, emotionally. When I was younger. Something that created this dissonance between my judging and being judged. Between my wanting to be myself, and wanting to be approved by others. So of course, I can't stop thinking of it. I was inspired tonight by an episode of Westworld. Very much focused on psychology and sociology. A very fascinating program. Anyway, I lie there in bed thinking. Why? Why am I this way? What happened? I tried to bring myself to think about how I felt about my Dad. How I felt about my step-father. About my life as a child. I recalled never being good enough for my father. I've always known that. But ultimately, because of that, I never truly felt that my father loved me either. In addition to that, I never felt loved by my step-father either. He always creeped me out. I never even felt comfortable being alone with him. Not sure why, just still remember that. My biological grandfather never spent much time with me. My other grandfather, Gene, spent some time with me, but he eventually left. My Dad's father was a sweet man, but I rarely saw him. My ex-husband was crazy and did say that he didn't love me when we married..."he grew to love me." Even my relationship with my current husband is complicated. I think for once in my life, a man truly loves me, and I still don't believe it. I spent all of my childhood feeling unloved. Unaccepted. And granted my husband can be a bit critical at times, but logically I know he loves me. But I really can't comprehend it. I guess I can't feel it. And what's more, I'm afraid to. The few times in my life where I embraced love, I was burned by it. My father. My step-father. My grandfathers. Even my husbands. I fear it. I fear love. I fear being loved. My only experience of love, at least with men, is wrapped up in an experience of only being accepted if I fit a certain type. My father was always critical of me. I can't quite remember the exact words or phrases, but nothing I ever did was good enough. I was overweight, lazy, not clean enough, not smart enough. He was always telling me phrases like "work smarter, not harder" and "come 'on Amy". So of course, I'm broken up. I'm afraid of being myself. When I don't care what others think of me, it's truly from a perspective of either self-defense (fuck you, this is who I am) or tentative trying (I'm going to say something that's totally me and see how you take it.) Any for of criticism from the latter always set me back. Still does. I just don't know how to be myself, not give a crap what others think, and still feel loved. That's pretty much it in a nutshell. I'm afraid if I'm myself, I won't give a crap about other people and therefore won't give a crap about being loved or even feel loved because I won't care. Can I care without caring what others think? 40 years of working like that...hard to turn back. One last thing, I was thinking about the judged and judging aspect. Why do I judge? To keep people away. I tend to judge more when people hurt me. Not that unusual I think. Why do I think people judge me? Because those I sought acceptance from, where the worst to do it. But I thought of those I don't judge. I can only think of two people right now. Nic, who is a non-threat. Always been sweet and very honest. And Vicki. Good old Vicki. Why? Why Vicki? And then I remembered. She reminds me of my mom. So much she reminds me of my mom. Her laugh, her mannerisms. Her smile. It's like she was reincarnated. It's insane. Anyway I'm about to go to bed and didn't want to lose those thoughts. Plus I hear weird noises. WTH? Goodnight.