For the past few days, I've had this task on my list. It simply says, "Find out what makes you happy." Today I turned it into, "Find out what makes you relaxed." Because quite frankly happiness is easy. It's tickling my son. Joking around with my girls. Cleaning the house. Finishing my task list (blog...check!) However, how to relax, that is still way beyond my ability.
Take yesterday for example...I sat on the couch. Knowing full well I should just be. Actually, take it a step back. Ricky and I were laying in bed. Nothing on. Just quiet. Ricky said, "This is nice. Just laying here." He was right. I couldn't remember the last time, we just sat in quiet.
There's always a tv or noise going on. We're always "doing" something. Dishes have to be cleaned. Work has to be done. Homework has to be completed. But we never just sit and just relax.
I mean, I've done meditation in the past. Honestly I should do it again. But who has time? I supposed I have to make time. Sounds so much easier.
I think I've explained I have OCD and anxiety. I mean, I kinda joked about it before. But then I went to see a therapist and a psych. I'm pretty much up there. Not like "wash your hands till they burn" up there but more like "if I sit for a minute, I can literally feel my skin crawl" up there. Do you know what's it's like to never rest? I mean, even when your sitting, your mind races wondering about the next "to do", what has to be done, what your NOT doing, what kind of life your leading, will you burn in hell for living a nice life with your stacks of Pop figures up against the wall while your fellow man is suffering from floods, wildfires, idiot politicians, deportation, homelessness...? Well I do. Every...damn...day.
I was reflecting on what made me so anxious, always worrying about doing too much and yet, at the same time, not enough. Perhaps it was my folks. My mother and father divorced early, so I went back and forth between the two. My mother was a free-spirit, always helping out the fellow man, loved being at church, extremely bright and well-read. My dad, however, was a staunch businessman, always making a buck, had street smarts, and whilst I was growing up, the focus was more on business than others. See where I'm going with this?
I loved my mother, but idolized my father. I knew I was like mom, but I wanted to be like dad. As I grew up, I became a smart businesswoman, and excelled at what I did. However, I still never felt good enough in my fathers eyes. Thank God for my mother who always beemed over every success I had. Told me I was great, I was smart, I was pretty. Of course, I didn't believe her. I was always the nerd, the outcast. But if it weren't for her words, I'm sure I would have spiraled into an even deeper depression than I experienced.
I was a lonely kid and always wanted acceptance, but was never willing to actually so the dumb things to obtain it. I tried to look pretty, but I refused to put out. I would joke around with the kids, but make high grades in my classes. i wasn't dumb but I was always pulled between the two worlds.
I always though growing older, I would have it all together. When you get older you don't give a crap what people think, right? Wrong. Still caught up in this web of being cool but still being a nerd. Still having values. And still telling the truth (just having to be more cautious of how I tell it.)
Perhaps someday, I'll feel better. Til then, wait, wasn't I supposed to think of ways to relax? Oh well, "forward" that task to tomorrow.
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