It's All in Your Head

There were a few recent events in my life that brought me to this blog post. The mind is a force to be reckoned with. Sometimes our thoughts just consume our lives, and our past has a lot to do with most of our self-destructive ways.


Why don't you ever tell me I'm beautiful?

My mother is a WONDERFUL person. She is my best friend and an amazing grandmother, however, she set me on the path to low self-esteemville. (Yes, that's an actual place in my mind.) I've actually blocked her from seeing this blog post, because I would never want to see her beat herself up for something she unknowingly did.

We all remember 7th grade right? You're body is changing, your personality is changing, you're trying to figure out where you fit in? Remember those days? Well I do, because the beginning of 7th grade was when my mother spoke words to me that I would carry with me the rest of my life. "Carrie Ann, you would be so pretty if you just lost some weight." Yeah, I know, harsh. However, to this day, I know it came from a place of love. It was from that day on that I never felt pretty enough, skinny enough or good enough. 

Life goes on. Of course I had many boyfriends throughout the years. Yes, I've had people tell me that I was beautiful. I've had people fall in love with me and truly love the way I looked. But if you don't believe you're beautiful, how can you ever believe the person saying it to you is sincere?

Once in awhile I'll take a selfie where I'll think, "wow, with the right filter, this may actually look really good." Occasionally I'll have a day where I wake up feeling pretty good about myself....then I look in a full length mirror and I hear my mother and think of my 7th grade self. If only I worked out, if only I could drink kale juice for every meal, if only I wasn't born with the fat stomach gene....blah blah blah.

My mother spends quite a bit of time with Lily. I picked her up from my mother's house one day and she said , "Oh my God Carrie Ann. She is just so cute I can't stand it. I try not tell her too often because WE don't want her to end up conceited. When Nana used to tell you how beautiful you were, I would always tell her not to tell you that. And look, you ended up not being conceited." Yeah Ma, okay. Quite the opposite actually.

I ended up marrying a man who does not pay compliments, does not fawn over me and shows zero affection. I've always said Alan is a great dad, but definitely lacks in the husband department. I stick by that statement even 14 years later.

We were laying in bed the other night getting ready to go to sleep. I rolled over and looked at him and said "How come you never tell me I'm beautiful? I don't think you've ever said that in 14 years." His response? "Carr, I don't say it because you KNOW you're beautiful." With that very stern statement, he rolled over and went to sleep. I lay there wide awake for a long time after that. I'm still pondering that statement. And yes, I'm sorry I asked.

It's a control thing

I'm a micro-managing control freak. I have no problem admitting that. However, I didn't become a control freak until THIS happened. Most of you are aware of what happened to Alek 5 years ago. 

I was in my bedroom putting away laundry on a Sunday morning in January when Alek's body got fried from 1 inch of boiling water. We spent 8 days in the ICU burn unit at St. Christopher's in Philly. In that 8 days, I went home ONCE to shower. I never felt so out of control in my life, as I did those 8 brutal days and the days following. I almost lost my baby because I was putting away laundry. 

I now have this constant need to control everything. I need to have the power in almost every situation and I've become a micro managing helicopter parent. I've seen friends lose their children, young children....how can this shit happen? It's on your mind CONSTANTLY. I came very close to losing one of my greatest loves, and now, I'm a control freak. If I don't have power, I go out of my mind. I probably needed to be in therapy for this years ago, but I deal with it in my own way. I've pushed many people away and have been so self-destructive and gypped myself out of some meaningful relationships and happiness because of this.

It's constantly in my head, but not easily changed.

Wrap it up

The picture above is probably one of the best pictures I've ever taken. Actually, I don't even really look like myself, which is probably why I like it.

So what do you do with low self-esteem and a control issue? Well if you're me, you push away every new person that pops up in your life. You let your thoughts consume you and hope that one day they don't just push you right over the edge. 

But you know what people? At the end of the day, the 4 people who matter most in my life don't give a flying fuck if I'm ugly, fat, skinny, bald or that I'm insane when it comes to their well-being. They think I'm the most awesome person in the world. I'm good with that. Everyone else can just go piss up a rope.

Buckle Up

Index:

1. Smokin and choking
2. Jake...ahhh my wonderful Jake
3. Shaking that ass
4. The "D" word...well, a couple of "D" words
5. Facebook at it's best


Things aren't always what they seem. Life never goes according to plan and just when you think things are going your way, everything goes to shit. Thankfully though, some of the shit parts are temporary and tend to have a way of working themselves out. Now, let's get on with it....

1. First off, most of you know that I've tried to quit smoking a few times. This last attempt was my best yet. Yes, I am back to being a smelly, skanky, smoker....sigh. I know, big disappointment to a lot of people (including some little people who I love very much). Smoking is an addiction. I never quite understood how people could ONLY smoke when they drink, or how they could just be an "occasional" smoker. How the hell is that even possible? I'm very self-conscious about the fact that I smoke. Most of you, before I posted on Facebook that I was quitting, probably didn't even know I smoked. I won't smoke in my front yard because I fear that one of my kids teachers will drive by and see me. It's something I'm embarrassed about and something non-smokers judge you for. I'll just keep judging myself thank you very much. When the time comes that I am going to quit (again), I will not tell a single soul. I know, I suck the big one. 

2. Jake. Jake. Jake. The boy has given us one hell of a ride for his senior year. I won't go into too much detail, but believe me when I tell you, he has NOT been kind. In fact, he turned into someone that I never thought he would. Happy to say, things have turned around lately.

Jake and I are tight, we've always been tight. He comes to me for EVERYTHING. He gets a new pubic hair? I'm the first one to know. No joke, the boy texts me from school EVERY DAY, he still likes to lay in my bed and talk to me about his life. Jake and I grew up together, but I was always his mother and not his friend.

So now here we are....graduation week. I've been really struggling with this and crying....A LOT. I cannot even LOOK at his cap and gown. I can't seem to get out of my own head. Have I given him a good life? Was I a good enough mom that he'll go away to school and make good choices? I realize that he's only 18, but I'm feeling like my job is done with him. This chapter of his life is over and now it's on him. Mommy can only hold your hand for so long. The letting go is the hard part...your baby is no longer a baby. I still can't figure out what to do with that. 

In spite of a couple of trying teenage years, I am ridiculously proud of this person I raised. I was pregnant with him at his age. I had no idea what I was doing, but man, did I love my son to pieces. When he walks into that ceremony in his cap and gown, (and my seats are so far away that I couldn't pick him out of the crowd even if I had binoculars) I'm just going to bawl my eyes out. FYI, I'll probably be wearing sunglasses in every picture I post.

3. Started walking again. I believe I'm on week 3. Started out dying after 1/2 mile, now I'm doing 2.5 without even breaking a sweat. I now take every opportunity to ask people if my ass looks tighter. In a few months I'll have the ass of a swimsuit model and the arms of Mama June from Honey Boo Boo. Good thing I didn't pack away my winter clothes, I'm going to be needing those long sleeves.

4. Let me start off by saying, Alan is a wonderful father and stepfather. He has the "fun" part of parenting down to a science and can actually be a little bit of a bragger without even realizing it. He's the dad that goes to Back to School night and wants to have his own personal conference when it's over. He wants Lily dressed in the foofiest tutu possible when he's taking her to Home Depot. He drops everything when he gets home from work just so he can play with his kids. He never understood the whole yelling or discipline thing, so he leaves that to me. How sweet.

Alan is an alcoholic. No, he's not abusive and no, he's never gotten fired from a job for showing up drunk. He is a functioning alcoholic. Maybe some of you remember when he was in AA. He had his first drink on his 2 year anniversary of being sober, and that was it. Done. 

I don't know if it's because he had that sober stint or just age, but he isn't the alcoholic I married. I married the fun, super happy, partying alcoholic. I didn't sign up for the miserable alcoholic. The misery part doesn't really set in until after the kids are in bed. He's pretty upbeat when the kids are around actually. It's me who makes him miserable I guess.

For the people who have known me a long time, you know that I was a rebellious teenager. I loved to party and I still do. I hardly ever turn down a drink that's offered to me, but to sit home and get blasted to the point that you can't walk, on a Tuesday night? No. 

Alan and I have been together for 14 years. He isn't really good at the whole husband thing. If he could've had kids, but not a wife, I believe he would've done that. I try not to take that personally, but when your mother has your kids and your husband fakes sleeping on the couch just to avoid hanging out alone with you? That's pretty disconcerting.

When someone doesn't cherish your relationship from the word go, that should give you a clue that you're marriage may be one-sided. This is NOT meant to be an Alan bash-fest, just my reality. 

Yes, I've talked to an attorney. Yes, the word divorce has been brought up. No, we don't discuss it in front of our kids. No, we don't fight in front of our kids. I know from some of my Facebook banter you all think we have this fun, wonderful marriage. Sometimes we do have fun, and I think Alan likes the "idea" of "our family" as a whole. But marriage cannot be one-sided, it can't be ONE person making the effort, while the other cracks open another cold one.

One of my friends asked me, "well why don't you just kick him out?" Why? That man has given me the life I always wanted. I never had any career goals. My dream since I was little, was to be a stay at home mom and wife. He supported that. We struggle financially so I can do that. He goes to a thankless job every day and busts his ass so he can take care of me and our family. You want me to just "kick him out" of the home that he solely provided for us? I think not. Am I really lonely most nights? Ha! Unless you've lived with someone who has an addiction like this, you would never fully comprehend how I feel most nights. 

So what's the next step? Will sober Alan ever come back? I don't have high hopes for that. Does he truly LOVE me? I think somewhere deep down inside he does. He believes in marriage. His parents were together for 51 years when his mother died. Yet a part of me still feels like I'm worthy a a little more than I'm actually getting. But then if I moved on, am I not just getting someone elses pain in the ass? Is it wrong to want the person who put a ring on your finger to love you? It's tough, but do you really want to see that as my FB status every day? I don't. 

5. I love Facebook. I am addicted to Facebook. There's always something interesting on my page. My friend's comments crack me up and are sometimes very uplifting and sweet. I have the grammar nazis, my God loving friends, friends who don't know each other but pick fights in my status comments, friends with a ton of money and friends who don't have a pot to piss in. Hell, I'm even FB friends with my pediatrician and my postmaster. I told my girlfriend the other day, it's kind of how I was in high school. I never fell into one group, I was always friends with everybody. I feel very lucky to have such a diverse group of friends. You all make days a little brighter and I am so appreciative of that. 

Instead of focusing on the things that make life a little harder, I've finally learned to embrace everything I've been blessed with. Nobody can have it all. I'm growing everyday. It's only because of the rough spots that I am the fucking awesome person that I am today. 

And spare me the pity party guys, I make choices and I live with them. We all have to.