When I was a little girl, I thought that stripes and polka dots matched. OK, I still do, but that's besides the point. There are numerous pictures of me dolled up in outfits I put together. At the age of 5, I thought I was the next Coco--had I known what Chanel was!
As I grew older, that uniqueness continued. I paired vintage jackets with superman shirts. I loved putting band tee's with frilly skirts. I was all about making a statement--whether it was good or bad-- I was me and that was that. For some reason, after high school I thought I had to grow up. I donated all of my tee shirts to the Salvation Army--hey, at least they went back home right?! I went and bought (I shudder) blouses. I stopped wearing my Converse and wore what I thought were "grown up" shoes. All aboard! One ticket on the train to Uncomfortable, population--me, please!
As I am sure you have figured out, I have been doing a lot of soul searching lately. I have come to the conclusion that if I am happy wearing Chuck Taylors and watching Fairly OddParents--then dammit I am going to do it! I am no longer ashamed that I love watching iCarly, and I literally "lol" at least 4 times during each episode. Yes, I absolutely love reality TV and the Discovery Channel, but I can almost guarantee that I am watching NickToons if I am watching TV at all. Who cares if I wear socks that don't match? Or if I shudder at the mention of the word slacks. I am a good person! I pay most of my bills. I yield to pedestrians. So I will go to work tomorrow with my Disney princess lunch box and there isn't a thing you can say about it!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Both sides of my family are about as functional as Christopher Reeves legs (what too soon?)
I got an email from a family member that I haven't spoken to since last December yesterday. It brought back a lot of memories, and felt good to know that she was thinking of me. Unfortunately, these past 10 months have been a big misunderstanding, and we could've been talking, but alas, you can't look at the bad. At least we are talking now right? This email and influx of emotions got me thinking about family and how important it truly is.
Everyone has many sides to their family. Growing up I always thought my mom's side was messed up. Who wasn't divorced on that side? Why weren't we talking to this aunt again? On the other side, my dad's family was rainbows and butterflies in my little head. You know, big Catholic family. Tons of cousins. Fun get togethers and picnics in the summer. Basically nothing better this side of heaven right? Wrong! To put it bluntly, both sides of my family are about as functional as Christopher Reeves legs (what too soon?) But I'll be damned if we don't make that work for us.
Everyone has that "crazy" aunt that no one likes to speak of but then again everyone loves to talk about when she isn't around. Right? Right, that ONE crazy aunt. My family tree is chock full of them. If I were to categorize them I would probably be hard pressed to find one I could describe as "sane." Now, as stated in my previous blog, I am not the definition of normal, nor do I want to be, but there has been some fucked up shit thrown down in my family.
Anytime you get a group of more than one person together there are going to be different opinions. Most families (at least I am under the assumption), handle this by talking it out--perhaps arguing for a bit--but then crossing over to another subject. Yeah, not so much my family. We throw punches, get the cops involved, sue each other, disown members-- the usual.
So far I have touched base on the extended portion of my family. My immediate family isn't SO bad. I grew up in a semi-normal environment--if you count my dad being in and out for most of my child hood because he was chasing his dream of becoming a rock star then only to become drug addicted and tear apart my family normal--then yeah, it was right on course. Growing up that was normal for me though. I wasn't aware that all dads didn't do that. My mom was always there for me. I never went without--in fact I often went with too much. I was spoiled by both sets of grandparents. I was the only grandchild for more than a decade, and I'm sure they bought gifts to hide the fact my dad was sucking the big one in his job description.
After the divorce, I realized that is not how all little girls grew up. I always hid the fact that I was fine with it, but deep down it killed me. Why couldn't my dad be there for me like all the other girls in my class? I had a grandfather I absolutely (and still do) adore. I should've been happy right? Well, I guess you always want what you didnt have. I don't think that was the case with me though. I felt that I deserved a good dad. I got jipped. I held up my portion of the deal right? I was a cute as hell daughter. I never made him play dress up---that often!
Now that I am older and have had a chance to reflect on the past, I realize that yeah, while it sucked (and quite honestly still sucks sometimes now), I wouldn't be who I am without my history. Did it suck that my mom had to be both mom and dad? Yes. Did it hurt to have to make excuses for him all those years? Sure, but it taught me a lot. It has taught me what I want out of life; the type of family I want to raise. I know what I want for my family. I don't want my kids to have to go through the same things I did.
I know my mom blames herself (even still) for some of the things that happened in our past, but I am writing this for both her and me. She was the greatest (and still is) role model a messed up girl could ask for. She held herself together in times of trouble. She didnt lower herself to the childish games my dad played. She was always composed and classy. She taught me to stand up for what I believe in. She has taught me to take shit from no one. Most importantly, she has taught me the type of mom I want to be.
It's funny how rants like this can be sparked by one little email, but it really got me thinking. I am happy that she contacted me. It shows me that other people are willing to look beyond the bullshit. It means a lot that she wants to have a relationship with me regardless of the fact of another family dispute, and that's how it should be. Yes, there are some people I have chosen to cut out of my life, but that's exactly what I did--cut them out. I hope others realize that even though I don't want a relationship with that particular person; I still want contact with everyone else. It has been a tough 10 months, and I hope that with this cut in the family tie rebound, it can start to get easier.
Everyone has many sides to their family. Growing up I always thought my mom's side was messed up. Who wasn't divorced on that side? Why weren't we talking to this aunt again? On the other side, my dad's family was rainbows and butterflies in my little head. You know, big Catholic family. Tons of cousins. Fun get togethers and picnics in the summer. Basically nothing better this side of heaven right? Wrong! To put it bluntly, both sides of my family are about as functional as Christopher Reeves legs (what too soon?) But I'll be damned if we don't make that work for us.
Everyone has that "crazy" aunt that no one likes to speak of but then again everyone loves to talk about when she isn't around. Right? Right, that ONE crazy aunt. My family tree is chock full of them. If I were to categorize them I would probably be hard pressed to find one I could describe as "sane." Now, as stated in my previous blog, I am not the definition of normal, nor do I want to be, but there has been some fucked up shit thrown down in my family.
Anytime you get a group of more than one person together there are going to be different opinions. Most families (at least I am under the assumption), handle this by talking it out--perhaps arguing for a bit--but then crossing over to another subject. Yeah, not so much my family. We throw punches, get the cops involved, sue each other, disown members-- the usual.
So far I have touched base on the extended portion of my family. My immediate family isn't SO bad. I grew up in a semi-normal environment--if you count my dad being in and out for most of my child hood because he was chasing his dream of becoming a rock star then only to become drug addicted and tear apart my family normal--then yeah, it was right on course. Growing up that was normal for me though. I wasn't aware that all dads didn't do that. My mom was always there for me. I never went without--in fact I often went with too much. I was spoiled by both sets of grandparents. I was the only grandchild for more than a decade, and I'm sure they bought gifts to hide the fact my dad was sucking the big one in his job description.
After the divorce, I realized that is not how all little girls grew up. I always hid the fact that I was fine with it, but deep down it killed me. Why couldn't my dad be there for me like all the other girls in my class? I had a grandfather I absolutely (and still do) adore. I should've been happy right? Well, I guess you always want what you didnt have. I don't think that was the case with me though. I felt that I deserved a good dad. I got jipped. I held up my portion of the deal right? I was a cute as hell daughter. I never made him play dress up---that often!
Now that I am older and have had a chance to reflect on the past, I realize that yeah, while it sucked (and quite honestly still sucks sometimes now), I wouldn't be who I am without my history. Did it suck that my mom had to be both mom and dad? Yes. Did it hurt to have to make excuses for him all those years? Sure, but it taught me a lot. It has taught me what I want out of life; the type of family I want to raise. I know what I want for my family. I don't want my kids to have to go through the same things I did.
I know my mom blames herself (even still) for some of the things that happened in our past, but I am writing this for both her and me. She was the greatest (and still is) role model a messed up girl could ask for. She held herself together in times of trouble. She didnt lower herself to the childish games my dad played. She was always composed and classy. She taught me to stand up for what I believe in. She has taught me to take shit from no one. Most importantly, she has taught me the type of mom I want to be.
It's funny how rants like this can be sparked by one little email, but it really got me thinking. I am happy that she contacted me. It shows me that other people are willing to look beyond the bullshit. It means a lot that she wants to have a relationship with me regardless of the fact of another family dispute, and that's how it should be. Yes, there are some people I have chosen to cut out of my life, but that's exactly what I did--cut them out. I hope others realize that even though I don't want a relationship with that particular person; I still want contact with everyone else. It has been a tough 10 months, and I hope that with this cut in the family tie rebound, it can start to get easier.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Hello--the best thing since Gutenburg's movable type in the 1400s, remember?
I have always been a writer. My grandma has writings of mine that I wrote at age 5; then again she has things saved from her 1969 wedding to my grandfather. We are a family of pack rats but that is a WHOLE other blog topic.
At the age of 11, I was published for the first time for a poem that I wrote. You would have thought by my family's reaction that I was fucking Walt Whitman. From that moment on it was set, I wanted to be a writer. There was no doubt in my mind. No one was stopping me! I succeeded and won this contest and my family thinks I am the next Jane Eyre over here.
I excelled in all of my English and lit classes all through high school; even taking a senior writing class my junior year (hello--the best thing since Gutenburg's movable type in the 1400s, remember?) I continued to write short stories and poetry all throughout my four years at Boylan. It was my release. Looking back at the poetry now, I realize how very depressed I truly was. My breakdown right after graduation really shouldn't have been that much of a shocker had I looked inside and noticed I was that girl in all my poems. I was really that in the dark I suppose.
Post high school and mental breakdown number 1 (yes, they have numbers!), I couldn't write anymore. Literally would sit down and nothing would come out. Usually my poetry came out like diarrhea, I couldn't stop the stuff! Not anymore. Here I am, at the lowest point in my life and my only coping tool bailed on me. In enters my second coping friend, food! I was living on my own for the first time. Depressed as all hell. Smoking a lot of pot. Hiding my emotions behind a happy face and many Swiss cake roll wrappers. As someone who has suffered with her weight all her life, let's add 50 pounds to my flabby self and see how that helps the self esteem! Smart Megan!
So, this has been my life off and on for 4 years now. Mental breakdown. Therapy. Feeling good. Diet. Losing weight. Skinny(ish)-ness. Life goes good for awhile. Then the cycle of peaks and valleys starts over again. Well, I have finally come to the point in my life where that is ending! I am not saying shit isn't going to get me down anymore, because Lord knows with my genetic makeup and chemical imbalance this girl is going to be on pills forever to at least even my moods out, but I am finally ok with that. I used to self diagnose. Start feeling better and stop taking my medicine. Hmm, wonder why I spiraled down into the holes I did?!
I hid behind my disease for four years. Not anymore world! Watch out! Megan has returned, and she is a bad bitch! I have a new found confidence that yes, still has its moments of waning, but its growing daily. I have come to the conclusion that I am worth it. Who cares if I am a size 22? Who cares if my boobs are small and sort of misshapen? I love myself for who I am, and if you can't, then too bad, you are missing out. I am going places and you could've been coming with me.
Do I know what I am going to be doing in the next year? Not really, but I do have plans that I will stick out. The past four years has bogged me down with a lack of motivation, and I am not letting that happen anymore. I am taking back the attitude that I had 13 years ago. No one is going to stop me! This time there is no doubt in my mind. I have come a long way and you haven't seen anything yet!
At the age of 11, I was published for the first time for a poem that I wrote. You would have thought by my family's reaction that I was fucking Walt Whitman. From that moment on it was set, I wanted to be a writer. There was no doubt in my mind. No one was stopping me! I succeeded and won this contest and my family thinks I am the next Jane Eyre over here.
I excelled in all of my English and lit classes all through high school; even taking a senior writing class my junior year (hello--the best thing since Gutenburg's movable type in the 1400s, remember?) I continued to write short stories and poetry all throughout my four years at Boylan. It was my release. Looking back at the poetry now, I realize how very depressed I truly was. My breakdown right after graduation really shouldn't have been that much of a shocker had I looked inside and noticed I was that girl in all my poems. I was really that in the dark I suppose.
Post high school and mental breakdown number 1 (yes, they have numbers!), I couldn't write anymore. Literally would sit down and nothing would come out. Usually my poetry came out like diarrhea, I couldn't stop the stuff! Not anymore. Here I am, at the lowest point in my life and my only coping tool bailed on me. In enters my second coping friend, food! I was living on my own for the first time. Depressed as all hell. Smoking a lot of pot. Hiding my emotions behind a happy face and many Swiss cake roll wrappers. As someone who has suffered with her weight all her life, let's add 50 pounds to my flabby self and see how that helps the self esteem! Smart Megan!
So, this has been my life off and on for 4 years now. Mental breakdown. Therapy. Feeling good. Diet. Losing weight. Skinny(ish)-ness. Life goes good for awhile. Then the cycle of peaks and valleys starts over again. Well, I have finally come to the point in my life where that is ending! I am not saying shit isn't going to get me down anymore, because Lord knows with my genetic makeup and chemical imbalance this girl is going to be on pills forever to at least even my moods out, but I am finally ok with that. I used to self diagnose. Start feeling better and stop taking my medicine. Hmm, wonder why I spiraled down into the holes I did?!
I hid behind my disease for four years. Not anymore world! Watch out! Megan has returned, and she is a bad bitch! I have a new found confidence that yes, still has its moments of waning, but its growing daily. I have come to the conclusion that I am worth it. Who cares if I am a size 22? Who cares if my boobs are small and sort of misshapen? I love myself for who I am, and if you can't, then too bad, you are missing out. I am going places and you could've been coming with me.
Do I know what I am going to be doing in the next year? Not really, but I do have plans that I will stick out. The past four years has bogged me down with a lack of motivation, and I am not letting that happen anymore. I am taking back the attitude that I had 13 years ago. No one is going to stop me! This time there is no doubt in my mind. I have come a long way and you haven't seen anything yet!
Monday, September 19, 2011
When you come upon a brick wall.......
I've been trying out this whole positive thinking thing for about 4 weeks now. Overall, it has been going well if I were to sit down and think about it, which I forced myself to do tonight. I was down all day today. I couldn't shake it no matter what I did. I tried the whole fooling my subconscious into feeling positive by thinking, "I'm in a good mood" over and over. Well, that didn't work, as it normally does, in fact, it further progressed my anxiety until I threw up. To top it off I was at work after being sick for a week, real cool self! Thanks!
So after freaking out over nothing at work and getting through that Lifetime movie I caused myself I came home. I still couldn't shake this moodiness. Well Nick, who can read me like a book(damn him!), sat me down and wanted to talk, which is fine. I am usually all about trying to figure out why I am down and more than willing to help find a solution, but today I couldn't put a finger on WHY I was feeling like this. After talking for awhile we came to the conclusion that I want the instant gratification for the hard work I have been putting in these past few weeks. I feel that I am doing all this work and am seeing no results. Well, Nick being the man of reason he is, pointed out that while the results haven't been huge there has been a lot of progress.
He said something that really struck a chord though---
"You feel like you're up against a brick wall, don't you? When you feel that way, why don't you lay down and look at the brick wall from a different perspective? When you're laying down, its just a path there to HELP lead you to your goals, not something you're up AGAINST to defeat you."
So yeah, I am still feeling a little down, but that's probably down right bitchiness, missing my mom, and my extreme need(yes, need) for a brownie sundae. Nothing I don't conquer on a daily basis!
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