judgement

Who’s got W-I-L-L-P-O-W-E-R? Not me…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Willpower is trying very hard not to do something you want to do very much.” ~ John Ortberg

Things have been going well and not well all at the same time.  Is that even possible?  I’ve been pretty sad lately because a knee injury has sidelined my workout and running efforts.  I probably could have worked out this week, but it was hard to motivate myself knowing I was going to be in pain.  Running was simply out of the question, as it hurt just to walk sometimes.  I got back on the scale and was happy to see I had not gained anything, especially during my crappy eating binge of our snow days.  There were times I should have said no when I whole heartedly said yes and it was reassuring to see that the healthy band wagon didn’t get too far ahead and I am still able to jump back on.

I realize, though, especially during these snow days, that I have a terrible problem with willpower.  The fact seems to be that I don’t have any, or at the very least, I seemed to have misplaced it somewhere around the end of spring.  I’ve tried finding it, but have not had any luck.  I was doing so well last winter.  Eating healthy, working out, letting myself have random treats when I needed them, but for the most part saying no to those things that were going to harm me in the long run (I only ate a small piece of a homemade red velvet birthday cake last year, so that should tell you something).  I had gotten to the point where saying no felt good.  I wasn’t doing it to be pretentious or show that I was better than anyone else or that I could say no when others were saying yes.  I simply knew what that piece of cake/glass (bottle) of wine/cheeseburger was going to cost me in the long run and how I was going to feel if I gave in to the fleeting wanting; to that small dose of happiness I would feel during, but not after.  After, of course, I was going to feel like utter crap.

But lately, the “cravings” are getting the best of me and while I still feel like crap when I give in, I keep going back for more anyway. Part of the reason I deleted my Facebook account was that I was spending too much time on there when I should have been concentrating on other things (work, family, in-real-life friends).  I was wrapped up in this world of needing to know what someone ate for dinner last night, who went out with who, looking at photos, and spending too much time in the past.  And you know what? Every time I did it, spent way too much unconstructive time online, spent too much time on profiles that I have no reason to be on anymore, read conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with me, I felt gross.  Almost as if I had eaten an entire chocolate cake.  I’d get upset because I wasted time, jealous because I wasn’t invited somewhere, hungover on information I did not need.

I spent too weeks off Facebook and really did manage to get more done.  My basement is spotless.  My bed was made everyday. I read three magazines.  I was amazed at my willpower.  I couldn’t believe that I, a self-proclaimed Facebook junkie, had kicked the bad Facebook habit.

But you know what?  I hadn’t.  I had deleted my Facebook account, I had deleted the apps from my phone and iPad.  I had deleted the book mark from my computer.  There really wasn’t an easy way for me to get back on without having to re-log in or re-download something.  Essentially it wasn’t willpower.  Willpower would have been having access to it, but making the conscious decision not to get back on. I made it close to impossible for me to get back on.  Willpower would have been keeping my account, but forcing myself to limit my interactions and time online.  I made it so there was no choice to make.  I took the easy way out, the cowardly way out.

And really, the whole Facebook issue is reminiscent of most of the issues I have with my life.  I lack the willpower to say no or make a better decision.  Even when I know that what I am doing is the wrong choice I simply do it anyway because I can’t say no.  And really, I can, but it’s hard and sometimes I don’t know what I want.

But instead of taking the easy way out, I need to “man” up.  I need to learn to do what is best for me in the long run, not what is going to be a fleeting source of happiness.  I have to stop being so blind sided by what is right in front me and begin looking at the big picture.  I have to realize that pretty much everything is OK in moderation…but I need to make sure I am moderating (food, time online, time with family, etc.)

I’ve seen what I can accomplish when the challenge was easy.  Now let’s see what I can do when we up the ante.

Another Old Post…This time about Max.

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I posted an old post about Ollie a few weeks ago, so I feel like I should do the same for Max.  Here are two posts about going through the IEP process with him.

My Dearest Maxer:

Tomorrow is my first meeting with the IEP team about you.  We’re not sure what’s going on, if anything is going on at all.  You’ve been having some trouble at school playing with friends and following directions and we just want to see if there is anything we can do to help you out!  That’s not to say you don’t have good days.  As a matter of fact, you have had two perfect days at school that last two days!

We’ve been so proud of you throughout your short, but lively, three and half years.  When you were born, it was a miracle.  Literally, a miracle.  It was the happiest day of my life and I can’t see any way that day will be topped.  I wanted to take this time now, before any meeting, before any checklist or specialist can decide who you are, to tell you all the things you are to me, and how, no matter what is said, these things will never change.

  • Our eyes are exactly the same color.  I haven’t noticed this until recently, but I love that we have this in common. You actually told me about this. Its a subdued hazel color that reminds me of a calm lake and I love that it links us together in a way that is only for us.
  • You have the most amazing vocabulary, better than most kids I know.  You use so many words I didn’t even know you knew and in the correct way
  • You are a wonderful big brother.  You go out of your way to make sure your brother is included in most things you do and are always sharing with him and asking him to play with you.
  • Your memory is remarkable.  You remember things I may have said once weeks, even months, ago (and are oh so kind to always remind me)
  • You give the best hugs.
  • You love your family; your grandparents, your uncles, and me and daddy.  You have no trouble telling us this and do so frequently.  This is a gift.  Don’t ever lose it.
  • One of my favorite times of day is the first five minutes that you wake up.  You run in, jump into bed with me and pretend to go back to sleep as you snuggle up.  Guess what.  I pretend to stay asleep, just to have a couple quiet minutes with you.
  • You love to help out and always want to be involved in everything.
  • Your stubborn streak drives me crazy, but I secretly love it.  It’s a part of me in you.
  • You are very interested in building and making things.  Anything you can do with your hands, really.  That makes me so proud considering I can’t even put together IKEA furniture.
  • You have a very active imagination.  You make up amazing stories and songs and constantly keep me laughing.

I could continue to write this list forever but I’ll stop here for now. Really, there is only one thing you need to know. No matter what happens, I love you.  As long as you know that we have nothing else to worry about.

Love,

Mom

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I realize it’s been a while since I’ve posted. Part of me just wasn’t ready to post until I had a final answer about Max. The other part of me has been crazy busy with so many things going on that I can’t even keep my head straight most of the time.

About a month ago we had Max’s testing date. I got the results in the mail a few days ago and today I met with that evaluation team to talk about the results. He received hearing and vision tests, was observed at school by a child psychologist to evaluate social behavior, and was given language, speech and cognitive tests as well.

One of the biggest things we found out was that Max has profound hearing loss in his right ear and borderline hearing loss in his left ear. This hearing loss has most likely been there for a while, probably more than a few months and it just shocks me that we never even noticed anything about it. Both the audiologist and the pediatrician believe it’s due to fluid buildup behind the eardrum when he had an ear infection almost a year ago! We went back today and saw that the hearing loss is getting worse.  We’re hoping that with this next round of medication he will be able to regain all of his hearing. If not we’ll have to visit the ENT to find out if surgery is needed.

As for the other tests, long story short…we have a well adjusted, highly articulate and well mannered, very bright, slightly fine motor delayed three year old who is well socialized for his age in all areas.  I don’t know if you know what it’s like to have a 50 pound bolder lifted off your chest, but that’s what this news felt like.  As first I was so relieved that I cried.  Then I became so angry I cried.  For two years we have been going through this nightmare where his teachers have been saying that something is wrong, or he might be on the spectrum and in reality, nothing is wrong. I wasted two years of my life trying to change my child and expecting him to adapt to what certain people think is “normal” instead of finding the right environment for him…the one that will let him be his quirky, lovable self.

Throughout this whole process I’ve learned a lot about Max, things I never knew.  Amazing, wonderful, delightful things.  But more importantly I’ve learned a lot about myself and my role as a mother and an advocate for my children. I’ve learned better to stand up for myself, my thoughts, and my opinions, and to stand up for theirs because they can’t do it themselves yet…that is, until I teach them to.

The Blind leading the “Blind”

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“It is never too late to become what you might have been.” ~George Eliot

This isn’t the original post I was going to write today.  It was actually going to be quite different.  To make a long story short it was going to be about how I failed at running yet again.  I went for a run last night and only managed to make it a mile before I had to quit.  My knee was killing me.  I was mad and angry, not only at myself for not being able to complete what I set out to do, but also at running in general.  I never had plantar fasciitis until I started running.  I never had hip pain before I started running. Now that I have finally gotten those under control and have very little pain, my knee is starting to hurt.  I mean, really, you’ve got to be kidding me.  I though eventually this was supposed to get easier.  I thought eventually it wasn’t going to hurt.  I was about to give up.  And I mean really give up.  Top that off with the fact that the damn scale did not move AGAIN and I was in a pretty aggravated and annoyed mood.

I woke up this morning with a slight “bad mood” hangover.  It was lingering there and I was trying to not let it affect me.  The kids actually let me sleep until 6:15 (shocking!) and then I hit the gym.  I wasn’t feeling much better as I headed up to Monkton to cheer on a friend who was running the NCR Trail Marathon.  I was still feeling sorry for myself when the first runner began to cross where I was at mile marker 5.  And you know what?  He was blind!  He was running with someone else who, I’m guessing, was guiding him when he needed it, but was also holding a cane, just in case.  I was floored and amazed.  It took all my willpower not to run him down and shake his hand.

It wasn’t so much that I was impressed that he was running and he was blind.  I mean, yes, I was, but your eyes really have nothing to do with the muscles that run your body so they don’t directly affect your ability to run.  What I was impressed with was that he was running, when so many people probably told him it was something he couldn’t or shouldn’t do.  He didn’t care what others had to say.  He was going to do what he wanted to anyway, people be damned.

I think that is really one of the key reasons I haven’t really “accomplished” much as a runner.  I still have this deep rooted fear that people are judging me and thinking things like: “how are you a runner?” or “you’re not really a runner unless you can run ____ distance in _____ amount of time” or better yet “You still have to walk some of your 5K?  How does that make you a runner?”  I get turned off and scared thinking that people are always watching me when in reality they really don’t give a crap.

The fear of judgment  leads to the other reason I’m not really getting anywhere as a runner.  I have no consistency in my runs.  I do it one day, and then skip a bunch, or do it three days in a row and take the next week off.  Some days it’s one mile, some days it’s three.  I’m letting my mood affect how and when I run and if I really want to be a “runner” I’m going to have to power through the too tired and too annoyed days as well.  That’s why I’m doing this “Running Streak” from Runner’s World.  It will make me run every day.  Sometimes it will only be a mile, some days it will be more.  But the bottom line is, I have to do it no matter what.

I need to get over the labels.  I need to get over the need for others approval of my running, or how I look when running, or how far or fast I run.  Why do I feel like I have to be good? I don’t.  Odds are I’m never going to be a great runner.  Odds are I’m never going to complete a marathon.  I’m slow, I have bad feet (flat feet, and bunions, and plantar fasciitis, oh my!).  I’m still pretty heavy (which doesn’t help the other two.)  But I like it, it makes me feel good afterwards, and that’s all that matter; how I feel about myself and about my running.

So, as much as I didn’t really want to, as much as my knee hurt, I laced up the running shoes, threw on the head phones and ran out the door at 6:30 pm tonight.  It was cold and my mile was super slow.  But I did it and I’m glad I did.  I won’t ever regret making the run, though I know I will regret missing one.

I sang quietly to myself as I ran through the pain.  If you think about it, that’s how this all began, running through the pain of not liking myself very much.  Running through the pain of bad decisions.  Running through the pain of needing more out of my life.  Running through the pain of needing to feel something, anything.

That’s how this all began but that’s not how it will end.

 

What the hell am I doing?

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“Bottom line is, even if you see ’em coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what are we, helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can’t help that. It’s what you do afterwards that counts. That’s when you find out who you are.” ~Joss Whedon

I had my formal observation at school today.  Normally I am nervous and fret about it for days on end.  I can’t sleep the night before, I stay late in my classroom every night cleaning and getting ready, I spend hours writing my lesson plan.  Not this time.  I spent maybe 20 minutes on my lesson plan, stayed maybe an hour later the night before cleaning up and slept like drunk (though I was not) last night.

You might think it was because in the four years I have been working in public schools I have learned a lot, gained more confidence, and understand the value of growing as a teacher.  You might think it is because I have a complete understanding of my students and their needs, and what I, as their teacher, need to do to meet those needs.  You might even think that I’m simply amazing at my job so there was never a need to worry in the first place.

None of this is true.  Not one bit of it.

The fact of the matter is I simply don’t care.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I am pretty good at my job.  My children learn.  Everyone is alive at the end of the day.  I still continue to go above and beyond what is expected of me.  But really, I think it’s because those things are ingrained in me.  I have a strong work ethic.  I will never just quit and walk away when other people are counting on me, nor will I simply not do what I am getting paid to do.  But I just don’t care anymore.  I don’t really like teaching.

I was at an Arts Everyday meeting with a friend the other day (on my own time, not getting paid) and we were listening to this person behind us who was obviously new, or at least relatively new, to teaching.  He was going on and on about all these programs he wanted to start, how he’s in it for the kids, basically that this job and the children in his class are his reason for getting up every morning; his reason for living.  All I could think was that this is a clear sign that I shouldn’t be doing this job anymore.  None of these things applied to me.  Yes, I used to be that idealistic and love my job and love my kids.  Pretty much as recently as last year I knew (thought) that this is what I was meant to be doing and I couldn’t see myself doing anything else ever.

But things have changed.  Something in me has changed.

I don’t like waking up every morning spending my day with this eager little people.  In fact, most days I loathe it.  I hate the fact that I spend more time with (and on) these children than I do my own.  I hate the fact that my children get the brunt of my bad days because I’ve listened to whining and tattling all day so when I get home I literally explode when my own children do it.  I’m upset over the fact that I used to have so much idealism, used to believe I could “be the change you wish to see in the world” and now I’m just happy if I make it through the day without having to call a parent and pray none of them text me for some insane reason.

But mostly, I simply hate the fact that I don’t care.  I wish I liked my job.  But not liking it has lead to not caring and really, it’s not fair.  It’s not fair to me because I am miserable.  It’s not fair to the people around me who I make miserable because they have to deal with me being miserable.  It’s not fair to the kids who really, for the most part, didn’t do anything wrong.  It’s not fair to the teachers who don’t have a job, because I’m selfishly taking this one and I don’t even want it.

So, really, what does all this mean?  I means I need to look for a new job.  I mean really and truly look for a new job.  No more thinking I’m going to and then getting lazy because I make pretty good money and have great benefits.  Frankly, it’s not worth it anymore.  I have to stop sacrificing my happiness.  Ever since the end of last year, ever since the summer, I feel like I have been simply going through the motions, not being completely here or there.  It’s like I’ve been holding on to something I shouldn’t have, been waiting for someone or something else to come along and make this decision or change for me. And I have to stop.  I have to let go.  I have to move on from whatever it is.

I have to grow up, put on my big girl panties, and make some real choices.

Tomorrow: The Land of Mythical Opportunity

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“Yesterday you said tomorrow.” ~Unknown

Today was a rather unusually productive Sunday and I was only about to get about 3 hours of sleep last night.  I finished most of the things done on my “to do” list and I managed to do them without complaining.  And, for a Sunday, I was in a rather good mood.  I don’t know what it is, but I feel almost as good as I did a few weeks ago.  For the first time in a long time I didn’t feel like I needed to put things off until tomorrow when I was bound to feel better, happier, or more energetic.

What is it about the idea of “tomorrow”?  We always know it’s coming, and therefor can always put things (ideas, concerns, activities) off until then.  But when Today becomes Tomorrow, how much of it actually gets completed?  And how much of it just gets put off until the next tomorrow?

I know I’m guilty of this.  Constantly thinking that today is the last day I’m going to (insert vice here). That tomorrow I’ll be able to really assert my willpower or make better choices.  As if Tomorrow is some magical land that we can visit that solves all our problems and helps us become more fulfilled and productive.  The people who we are “supposed” to be live in tomorrow while the people that we “are” live in today.

But for me, I hope this stops…tomorrow.  I’ve made my healthy meals and completed my almost entirely clean eating grocery shopping.  My running clothes are out and ready for the morning.  My lesson plans are done and my school bag is packed and ready to go.  I even bought a fitbit because I really want to take this myself seriously this time.  I know I might falter and fall.  I know I might make mistakes. I know I might give in to temptation.  I’m human after all.  But as long as I get right back on track, without waiting for “tomorrow” to come around I also know that I’ll be ok.

Tomorrow morning I head out for my first run in almost two weeks.  I’m not expecting it to go well.  I’m expecting it to be slow and painful.  But, you know what?  Even though I know that’s how it’s going to be, I’m still excited to go.

I’m in it for the long haul.  There’s no turning back now.

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 66.2
Pound to go by January 1st: 25

Playing it safe…

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“Waiting is painful.  Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.” ~Paulo Coelho

It’s funny.  I feel like I should write, but I’m not quite sure what to write about.  Sometimes I don’t even know that I’m thinking certain thoughts until they spill out onto the page as I type.  I finished my third 5K today and, to me, that is a pretty big accomplishment.  But still, I don’t know if that is what I want to write about.  I’m at a point where I don’t know if the problem is that I have nothing in my head or everything.

What I do know is that I’m tired of waiting.  But even then, I’m not sure what I’m waiting for.  A sign?  Something that tells me what direction I take at the fork in the road.  I’m always looking for something to tell me which direction to choose or which path to take: a certain time on a clock, finding a heads up penny, even my horoscope at times (ironically enough, my horoscope today tells me that if I have a particular issue on my mind, I shouldn’t wait for a better moment to get it out into the open). I feel like I am always at a “fork in the road”.  Each decision has it’s own set of benefits and consequences and really, you can’t know what they are until you make the decision.  So I spend time debating and agonizing and worrying so much that I create more problems and situations than there actually are.

I think one of my problems is that I don’t take enough risks and tend to not put myself “out there” as much as I could or should.  I tend to play it safe, thinking that if I don’t make a choice or a move either a. someone will make it for me, or b. nothing happens and I am no worse off than I was before.  Plus, what happens if I do put myself out there and it turns out to be the wrong decision or a mistake?  Or even worse, I am somehow rejected?  Sometimes I feel like my fragile ego just won’t be able to handle it.

I tend to write all these posts about how I need to jump in, make grand gestures, simply make choices and decisions, and yet that’s all they are…words on a page.  I don’t actually DO any of that.  I write about doing it, but never take action.  It all sounds so amazing and profound when I write it down and for a while I actually contemplate taking action, real action, within my life.  And then I get scared. And the worst part?  The really worst part?  Is that I am a giant hypocrite.  I tend to judge people for not following through when they complain about the direction of their life and yet I do the same thing.

At what point will I allow myself to make the first phone call, take the first step, or tell someone what I really want instead of going along with someone else’s plans?  At what point will I allow myself to walk away from situations instead of clinging to a hope that maybe, one day, it will get better?  At what point will I just DO SOMETHING instead of standing still?

At what point will I allow myself to jump, knowing that it’s just as likely that I land on my feet unscathed as it is I break my legs?

42 Days.

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“I give myself very good advice but I very seldom follow it. That explains the trouble that I’m always in” ~ Alice in Wonderland

42 days.  In the same breath it feels like tomorrow and far away all at once.  In 42 days I am running the Color Run in Baltimore and my goal is to run the whole thing.  But in order to do that, I need to get serious.  And lately, it doesn’t feel like I have been at all, at least not about running and exercise, or even my life in general.

I guess, in a way, you can say that I’ve been back sliding.  The worst part is, I saw it coming and honestly did nothing to stop it.  I KNOW what I am supposed to do in certain situations, yet I tend to make the complete opposite choice.  I could have kept going, could have pushed through and gone running even on the days when I was tired, but I was preoccupied with other things.  Things that were, frankly, not as important. I wish I knew why I did it.  But I don’t, and I have to stop thinking that if I concentrate hard enough I can change the past.

It’s hard sometimes, to find that motivation that we seek to keep going.  I look on Pinterest for a quote to get me going, or seek advice from  friend.  But sometimes it just doesn’t work. What I really need, sometimes, is someone to just tell me to stop looking behind, only look forward, and get off my ass and go.  Sure I’ll be tired, sure it will hurt, but the way I’ll feel when I accomplish what I want will erase all of that immediately.  For the past two weeks I haven’t run a lot because my foot hurts.  But what happened to the weeks I was doing it before?  I’m sure my foot hurt then as well, but why am I letting myself use it as an excuse now?  I mean, really, if I look deep down inside, I know why.  But frankly, I just don’t want to face it.

I’ve come so far, since January, since summer, that I don’t want to wind up back there again.  And yet, I’m letting myself gradually slink and slide back that way?  And for what?  Why is this so hard?  I guess, if it were easy, everyone would be doing it.

I wish I didn’t need to look outside of myself so often for some form of validation, but even at the ripe old age of 32, I still do.  Hell, half the time I still feel like a teenager, worrying that everyone is starting at me, or talking about me, etc.  I know even my friends judge, because I know I’m guilty of it too, which makes it so hard to just be ME sometimes. I think the saddest thing is that I know who I am , I really do, but I have yet to feel like I can be truly MYSELF around anyone.

This morning, I had this moment (more like 2 hours) of just pure bliss.  As I was heading downtown with the sun shining, music blaring, windows down, I just felt sublimely happy; the way I was feeling a few weeks ago.  I was heading to pick up my race packet for a 5K a friend and I are doing tomorrow and just thinking about doing the race made me happy.  I don’t know what it is about running that is making me so euphoric, especially when I am basically just walking really fast (yup, I’m that slow), but why do I let myself get away from that feeling?  Why do I let myself stop?  Why I am looking for a quick burst of happiness from some other arena instead of concentrating on this?

This goes back to my previous post too, about the not half-assing my life anymore.  I’ve looked up how to train, I’ve looked up what I need to do to help (not cure) my plantar fasciitis, but yet I don’t do it.  Deep down, no matter what I do, I feel like I am still that lazy girl who wants to just sit in the comfy chair and daydream about things that will never be, plan – but not do, and basically take the easy way out.  And the sad thing is that I am letting myself and letting the people around me let me do it!

I don’t want to be that girl anymore.  I don’t want to be that girl from last winter who could barely climb a flight of stairs without feeling like I was going to die.  I don’t want to be that girl from the spring that put work before herself and her family.  I don’t want to be that girl from the summer who basically couldn’t think for herself and do what she knew needed to be done.

I know what I want to be.  I just feel like I have no way to get there.

So Jump

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“If she’s amazing she won’t be easy.  If she’s easy she won’t be amazing.  If she’s worth it you won’t give up.  If you give up you’re not worthy.  Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you’ve just got to find the ones worth suffering for.” ~Bob Marley

To say that this week has been crazy would be an understatement.   I haven’t been running since Tuesday.  My foot is killing me and I am trying to rest it as much as possible and try it out again Monday morning and see how it feels.  But, you know what?  I think this is one of the best things to happen to me.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually like being injured or the shooting pains in my foot.  But I knew that running was giving me some sort of endorphin-filled high.  Which made me want to run…a lot.  I probably have even been running too much, hence the pain in my foot.  I was worried that if I stopped running that my happiness would begin to disappear and that running was the only thing making me happy.

But it wasn’t.  I’m still happy even though I haven’t run or even worked out in the last three days.  My good mood seems here to stay, at least for a little while.  I’m starting to learn things little by little and that seems to be helping me change my outlook and perspective and keep me happier.

I’m learning that it’s OK to take a break if I need it.  I’m at the place where I know that a small break does not mean I have quit or give up.

I’m learning that it’s OK to stress about things…as long as you don’t let the stress over take you.  I’m letting myself feel the full weight of a situation for five minutes, handling it, and then moving on.  Worrying doesn’t help anything or change the situation, so why bother.

I’m learning that I know what’s best for me.  I love that I have a support system of friends and family who are there for me and want to help.  And I listen to their advice because they love me and want me to be the best person I can. But in the end, my decisions are my decisions and while they may not understand why I’m making one, they don’t have to.

I’m learning that friends may be people who tell you the truth, even when you don’t want to hear it, but they also will never intentionally try to pull you down. They won’t base their happiness and worth on your down fall.  Don’t ever let anyone dull your sparkle and all that…

I’m learning that not all bad decisions are “bad decisions”.  Decisions are choices, plain and simple, and what defines them as bad is how you see the outcome.  As long as you can live with the consequence of the decision you are making, and as long as it doesn’t intentionally hurt anyone, is it really a bad decision?

I’m learning it’s OK to be a little weird.  And to accept my weirdness and revel in it.  That one thing you think is weird, might be the one thing someone else falls in love with.

I’m learning that it’s OK to feel any emotion I am feeling.  Hurt, happiness, betrayal, love, sadness, longing, anger, giddy…there is a reason for each and every one of them.

I’m also learning that while it’s OK to feel any emotion you want, you need to be careful who you are sharing them with.  Don’t share them with people who will be reckless with them or judge.  While it’s OK to feel every emotion, not everything needs to be shared.

I’m learning that it’s OK to keep things to myself.  To keep me to myself.  Self-preservation is sometimes all we have.

And finally, I’m learning that sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith.

So jump.

Fear and (self) loathing

/ Cassie / 2 Comments

“Everything happens for a reason, but sometimes the reason is because you’re stupid and make bad choices.”

I tend to be over analytical in most aspects of my life.  I weigh pros and cons before making decisions.  Each choice I engage in tends to be calculated and the safest, most restrained, choice usually wins out.  It’s all very responsible.

Until it’s not.  Because, let’s face it.  There are always those choices that we make that seem to express the sentiment “What the Fuck?”  I mean, I know at least for me, I can physically see myself making the wrong choice and I do absolutely nothing to stop it.  I somehow assume that THIS TIME things will be different.  THIS TIME it will work out for the better rather than for the worst.

And you know what?  It never does.  I make this decision that I KNOW is the wrong one.  I KNOW nothing good will come of it.  And I do it anyway.  And then do you know what happens?  I go into a fit of depressive self loathing.

Why the hell is it that I can get my butt up almost every morning at 4:45 am to run before teaching elementary school children in East Baltimore but can’t stop myself eating that one food, drinking that one drink, sending that one text, saying that one thought?  Does it all come down to willpower? Or is it something else?

I really have improved in so many areas over the course of just the few weeks I have been running.  I am happier.  I have more confidence, I am working towards fixing things that need to be fixed.  I love the way my life is going…and yet…I still can’t stop myself from doing certain things I know will hurt me in the long run (FYI: I am not a drug addict, secret cutter, alcoholic, or anything else lifetime made a movie about).  What am I missing?  What else can I do?  I need to make better choices, even if I don’t want to at the time.

End teenage-girl-though-I’m-really-32 rant.

Fall down seven times; get up eight

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“So I put my faith in something unknown, I’m living on such sweet nothing. But I’m tired of hope with nothing to hold, I’m living on such sweet nothing ~Calvin Harris

I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately. More specifically, the things that make us happy and how people come to feel this way. C.S. Lewis once said “Don’t let your happiness depend on something you may lose.” I saw the above quote this morning that really resonated with me. How often do we base our happiness on the actions of others, or moments in time?

Without going into detailed specifics, I’ve had a tough summer, and honestly, I have no one to blame for it but myself. It all started with my dad dying and slowly snowballing out of control from there, to the point that I didn’t even know who I was anymore. And really, I know it started even before that. I saw the warning signs did nothing to stop the avalanche. I was unhappy, moody, sullen and depressed. And when I wasn’t feeling those things, I wasn’t feeling anything at all.

I needed something. I was feeling antsy and itchy. I felt like something was missing that I couldn’t put my finger on. I felt like my skin was too tight and something within me was trying to break free. What it all comes down to was the need to feel alive, or rather the need to feel something other than what I was feeling. I felt like I had been going through the motions for so long thinking that maybe I was happy, when I realized that I was simply complacent. When my dad died, something inside of me changed. It wasn’t that I was devastated or heartbroken, because I wasn’t.

A first I felt relieved that all his suffering was over. And then I began to worry…about myself. My dad spent most of his life depressed and angry which caused him to alienate every single person in his life. Most days, he was downright mean. And I could really see myself heading down the same path and it scared me.

I needed to shake things up and feel something just to prove I was nothing like him. I needed to be reckless and downright irresponsible. And I was. I put my needs for “aliveness” ahead of the the needs of so many people around me. I felt conflicted but I also felt alive…knowing I should change the situation, but also unable to do it at the same time.

I now realize that a lot of it had to do with me looking outside of myself for some form of happiness and thought certain situations were going to make me happier. And they did…and they didn’t. I spent most of my summer in complete turmoil, wrestling with feelings I thought I had, with feelings I actually had, with feelings I was supposed to be having, all while trying to wear the mask of normalcy around my children and friends.

And then just as quickly and spontaneously as the “aliveness” started, it was over. I have let myself think and analyze for a week. Its almost as if I was grieving. I don’t know, though, what exactly I was grieving for. Was it for what I lost, or was is simply because I now knew I was going to go back to feeling nothing in my daily life?

I still haven’t figured it out, but what I do knows that it’s time to take a breath and move on and start figuring out how to be again. And maybe if I can figure out how to simply exist without all this sadness and anger, I can also figure out how to be happy.

I have to try, I have to try, I have to try. My life depends on it.