Sometimes it's hard to know whether to just let funny (not funny - "haha", but funny - "wow, that's clever") be funny or to go into great detail to explain. Today I guess I'll leave it as an inside joke for anyone who's read some of this blog and hope you get it. Otherwise it's just cumbersome instead of funny.
So anyway, I really try to make this blog something that I can be proud of and show anyone. But sometimes that means not saying a lot of the things I would like to for fear of offending someone or making someone uncomfortable. But today I don't really care. I'm in a funk, and that's what I want to write about. Sure, I have adorable kids, and I'll probably even post some pics later today because I like showing them off, but I guess this has been bugging me for a long time, and yesterday just set me off a bit.
To start off in left field (stick with me, I'm going somewhere with this), I started a degree completion program in 2001, right after Sean was born. Because I started just a month after he was born, I missed the first course and had to take it a year later when the next group of students started. Our biggest (read: most challenging) assignment was to write our personal mission statement. On the one hand, after I took the course I felt cheated that I hadn't taken it earlier, but on the other hand, I was very lucky because my mind was in a totally different place than students who did this to start out the program.
(An aside: the point of the exercise was to do the mission statement once at the start of the program and once at the end and to see how much it had changed after all the other coursework)
So anyway, all we had to do was put our goals and mission in one sentence, or perhaps one small paragraph.
Mine was four pages long. And yes, I did just check.
Every time I tried to put something into words, it turned out to be words from a song or lines from a play. I wasn't able to meld all of those thoughts into coherent words of my own, so I decided I'd just have to use words from songs (and the colorful layout) to illustrate who I am, where I was going, and how I hoped God would use me, personally and professionally.
I'm not sure what frustrates me more: my inability to stick to convention, or my total lack of being able to follow where those lyrics were supposed to take me. Back then, I was really irritated at my unconventional approach and was sure I would fail the course, even though I felt I had no other choice. I guess once I received the "A", my irritation level dropped and I began to think that I was clever and creative and really knew "my style". Now I'm just totally peeved that I am sitting in a stagnant pool of negativity and uselessness and not anywhere near the lofty mission I was sure I'd be living out.
The total "ineffectiveness" that I feel comes out of that mission statement. It was all about how I wanted to be a great wife, great mother, great helping person, great person who followed God's will, and what a great, all-round "full-of-potential" kind of gal I was going to be. Now I'm not any of those, and I feel like I'm a lot further behind than I was when I wrote those [other peoples'] words.
I can't seem to do anything right.
I can't seem to keep the house clean (or even GET it there).
I can't seem to figure out what it is that will keep Chip happy.
I can't seem to get enthused about the activities Sean wants to do
I can't seem to not get bored with Sophie
I can't seem to find ways to enjoy feeding her (and now I feel like I must keep breastfeeding when I would have stopped because I can't afford formula)
I can't seem to find a job.
I can't seem to help Chip get a job.
I can't seem to be of any value to people...and really let me explain this one a bit. I hate to say it, but I'm needy, and everyone I know who I consider a friend doesn't seem to need me. I need them, but they seem to get their actual "friendship fix" from someone other than me. I'm a fine acquaintance, and generally nice enough, but they could do without me. I feel like I reach out too much and others pull away, so I quit reaching out. And found out that if I don't reach, no one will reach for me. But if I do reach, they still aren't grabbing. The problem is that I don't really know what's missing. I don't know how to get friends. I really think a lot of that still stems from DEVIL CHURCH, which of course isn't the DEVIL CHURCH, but I prefer to think of them that way because they screwed up my life worse than losing two babies. I know all of these things I'm feeling really come from back then, because I withdrew and no one on either side knows how to patch things up. I have evidence of how many times I reached out, hoping for someone to grad me and hold on then, but evidently, we weren't lost enough for them. I hope they know that we're very lost now and that it's their fault, and that I wouldn't grad on now if they reached out a huge lifeline. Of course, that's my problem, isn't it? And that's why I'm ineffective. Because I'm afraid to hurt anymore, but that's all I know, so I unintentionally look for it. Maybe. I'm no psychologist. But it sounds good.
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