When I started this blog I said I wanted this space to be filled with honest truths. I said I wanted us to sit down and connect with each other on a certain level that requires us to be completely real, open, and raw.
I feel that my posts to date have been pretty lacking in that department. Truthfully, I know it’s because I think too much. I’ve been trying too hard. It’s ultimately blocking me from producing the kind of content that I set out to create in the first place. I guess a part of me wants it to seem like I have it all together, or at least like I know what I’m doing with everything I’m taking on.
So here I am, 9:13 AM CST, August 21, 2019, sitting on my couch, deciding not to post what I had prepared for this morning and instead deciding to get f*cking real with you guys.
I have no idea what I’m doing. I have nothing together. I literally wing every single day as soon as I open my eyes. I straight up wing it. All of it. I have no idea what the next five minutes are going to bring, or how I’m going to handle whatever it does bring.
My brain is so scattered and distracted 98% of the time that I often don’t do what I planned to do today. I find myself planning to get sh*t done while Carter sleeps, and then end up surfing Pinterest and Instagram while my coffee gets cold. Ya, that’s right. I’m the reason my coffee gets cold, so don’t buy it the next time I joke about it being the baby’s fault. That kid is already about 10x better at routine and discipline than I am.
My favourite place to be is on my couch. Typing that actually made me cringe, because I know how terrible that is and I don’t want to admit it. I like to sit here. I like to watch movies, eat, and drink coffee. I like to do nothing. I straight up love doing nothing.
My feelings are easily hurt. I talk a lot about letting go of control and letting the chips fall as they may, but that is so incredibly hard for me I can’t even begin to explain it. It’s horrible. I HATE not having control over the outcome of most situations. And honestly, I do end up doing nothing about it. But it’s not because I’m choosing to be all zen about it, it’s because I don’t have the back bone to deal with confrontation most of the time. If I DO choose to confront someone about an issue I have, I usually go absolutely overboard because my anxiety skyrockets and I lose a lot of tact and self-control. I’m still going to write about letting go, though, cause I do believe it’s possible in time to make that a habit.
I take a lot of things personally. Like a lot. Maybe it’s my anxiety, maybe it’s conditioned from the few years I was bullied in school, or maybe I’m just a wimp. I don’t know. But if things don’t seem or feel normal I automatically jump to the conclusion that it’s my fault, while also being the first person to tell you that it’s selfish to assume everything is about you and that people more often than not just have their own sh*t going on.
I’m not good with money. To be fair, I’ve gotten a lot better in recent years.. especially now that I’m a mom. I learned the hard way, though. I racked up a lot of school debt and spend a lot of time living in guilt about that, amongst many other life choices I’ve made without first thinking about any sort of end result.
I do everything last minute. Literally everything. I always have, and probably will continue to do most things last minute. I’ve also made some improvements here but “putting things off” is just as bad a habit as biting my nails, which I also do, by the way.
I hate cleaning. With so much passion. I’ve never understood people who stress clean. Cleaning does the exact opposite for me. If anything, it induces stress and anxiousness because all I’m thinking about is what needs to get done and how long it’s going to take.
I spend more time than I’d like on social media, and even though I can recognize it I still do it. I guess that comes with trying to make a name for yourself. At least that’s what I tell myself. What I often wonder is if it’s worth it.
I absolutely love being a mom — please don’t get that twisted — but sometimes I resent the lack of freedom I have. I think (hope) that’s normal. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with my boy, but I also wish it were possible to just do what I feel like doing when I feel like doing it the way that I used to — without any sort of preparing or real thought.
I often worry about how I’m going to teach another human how to be a certain way, when I am the exact opposite of that. I am so scared to mess up my kid.
My anxiety & depression affect every single day of my life. Every one.
So ya. That’s me.
A 28-year-old mostly irresponsible scatterbrain who’s trying to raise a child.
Social media portrays the best of everyone and everything. Social media is smiles, fun, and feeling important. It’s wanting people to think you’ve got it all together because it’s shameful to be human.
Well, I hate to shatter any sort of image or impression, but that’s exactly what I am. I am human. Imperfect. Usually unmotivated. Emotional. Sometimes irrational. A work in progress. I’ve decided that I refuse to let anyone think otherwise.
Here’s me telling you that I am a giant mess, and somehow still doing OK at life. I’m doing the damn thing. It may not be the way other people believe it should be done, or even the way I believe it should be done most of the time, but I’m done caring about that. I’ll do it my way, in my own time, because that’s how you grow. You don’t grow trying to fit in other people’s molds or boxes of expectations. You grow by trying, failing, and doing it over again. You’ll only learn through your own lens, and your own experiences.
So, here’s to basking in all our imperfections. All of our quirks and seemingly negative flaws. To accepting ourselves exactly as we are, and being OK with that person, too. Here’s to soaking up every opportunity to learn, grow, and be better in our own time, and allowing others to be human and do the same.
Here’s to being inherently, and unapologetically, me.
Let’s Get Real