I'm here...sort of

Hey friends. I'm struggling. Embarrassed by my lack of commitment and focus. Using food as a crutch, and unable to excavate myself from the pit. Not really in despair, not even feeling particularly depressed. Just stressed. A little low. Weak.

A part of this, I think, is I've allowed a little extra stress to interrupt that momentum I was building. I let those healthy habits I was working on lapse. And I don't have the energy to motivate myself. And I'm embarrassed by having to come here again to say, "hey guys, I really want to tell you I'm succeeding, but I'm acting like an 11 year old around food, and haven't been to the gym since last Monday. On top of that, I can't freaking fall asleep at night, which means I'm tired come morning, which means I make poor food choices, and don't go to the gym." Yup, struggling.

But then I think, Missy! Stop that! These people are your friends, your supporters, your confidantes! They would never judge you, for crap's sake! They will say, "hey! we have your back!"

So I'm posting, even though I'm struggling, because maybe you are too. And maybe we could motivate each other.

Also because a sweet friend of mine asked me a question a few weeks ago, and I never answered it because it needed a little extra thought and attention, and it was an interesting question, and then I thought I might write about it here, because, who knows, someone else might be interested. She said "You're so open about who you are and issues you are dealing with. How do you do that?"

First of all, I was so grateful for that question. In all honesty, what she sees as "openness", I often see as self-centeredness. For crying out loud, no matter my motivation, I come on here to talk about myself. How self-centered is that, right? But, the fact is, I am not actually talking about myself because I think everyone wants to hear about me. I talk about my struggles, my issues, and the stories of my life because I want to connect with others, and maybe my own struggles will make someone else feel less alone?

That's why. But she asked how. So, I've always been talkative. Anyone who knows me knows that. And I've generally been pretty open. I think a part of that is because my parents have always been pretty open with me, and have generally allowed for my opinion. But I've not always been honest.

And gah! Now I know why I wanted to write this today. (another Tiny Buddha post) How Letting Go Of the Need to be Special Changed My Life I was reading this today, and to be clear, this is not exactly what the post was about. The author and I are two very different people. I have always been a pretty freaking average person. My grades were decent, but not stellar, I've never been drop-dead gorgeous, a fantastic athlete (or any type of athlete), a good artist...just, an average person. Also, I've never been a perfectionist. I've never claimed to be one, either, but I've wanted to be seen as interesting, and I always felt that I would be more interesting if I excelled at things, or did interesting things that required a great deal more perfectionism, I think. Maybe I'm just too lazy to be a perfectionist. I don't know. Anyway, so I made things up to make myself seem more interesting. Not all the time, and certainly nothing important enough to cause trouble (I never pretended to be a doctor and then refused to help save a whale, for instance,) but enough that, looking back, I am ashamed and saddened by my own stupid lies. For instance, I was in the Army Reserves from age 19-27. I did my AIT training (training for my job, which was a print journalist) at Fort Ben Harrison in Indianapolis, right before they closed the post. There was another soldier named Dan, who was in the Broadcast Journalism program, on whom I had a rabid crush. He was a perfectly nice person, who never expected anything other than a nice friend, but I was positive that if I was more interesting, he would fall head over heels. So I lied about so many stupid things, everything from the ridiculously unnatural shade of red being my natural hair color, to the fact that I had years of professional massage therapy training (I did not), to my stories about the professional stage that I never was on. Honestly, I was only 19, and he probably knew there was no way I had had time to do all of this. I couldn't seem to help myself, though.

This continued into my 20's - with other moms, especially; people I desperately wanted to connect with because I was so unbelievably lonely as a young mother. I couldn't find much in common, so I made things up. Not quite so ridiculous as in my teens, but silly, stupid fibs, or omissions - I love sushi, for instance (can't stand it), or I finished college (which I still haven't, although I do really want to.) Pathetic, I realize, but I wanted so desperately to be Special. Interesting enough for people to want to be my friend (except, thankfully, for my husband. I've always managed to be more or less honest with him. He would see through my lies and call bullshit, anyway 😉)

I hit my mid-30's into my 40's and I don't know what happened. I just...stopped lying. I've continued to want to connect to others, but maybe I have  a strong enough circle, maybe I've just gained some perspective, and my self esteem is no longer that sucking pit of despair it was in my teens and 20's, and I realize I don't have to lie to make myself interesting. Either people find me interesting or not, and I can't really control that, and that's alright if people don't like me. I have strong, amazing, supportive people in my life, more than most people, and I am thankful for those I have.

Anyway, so there you go - I am open and honest about my struggles because lying is dumb, because they might help someone, because it definitely helps me, and because I have wonderful people in my life willing to listen.