It's so easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Believe me, I know it well. Last year I was in the beginning stages of recovering from a terrible accident, not fully knowing the extent of my injuries for several months. As soon as I started feeling a little better, I JUMPED into the busy life I loved so much. I hung out with friends, dressed up like a nerd for the Renaissance, ate delicious ribs and drank over priced beer at Ribfest. I enjoyed myself. I also worked three jobs. Yes 3!! Cashiering: Lots of customer service. All day devoted to making impossible people happy, and damn was I good at it! Retail Clothing: hated it! I hated the ridiculous sales goals and trying to find where all those dang clothes went back on the shelf. Lots of walking around with my new found and endearing limp. I did have one job that I had zero complaints attached to clocking in, working at the baseball stadium. Sure I mostly tore tickets, but I had so much fun. I utterly enjoyed being outside at the stadium, listening to my home team play baseball. I got to wear shorts, high five kids, catch foul balls, get hugs from the mascot and have a blast. And I got paid for that?! Yes please. Bonus: after gates were done taking tickets, usually in the 4th inning, I would quick change out of my work shirt in my car, go back into the stadium, order a beer or two and watch the game. Perfect summer days basking in the sun :)
I miss that crazy busy lifestyle. At the present time, my previous injuries leave me stuck at home watching gross amounts of Netflix. I have unbelievable pain and can't ease it. I feel helpless when I can't physically move for hours at a time. My leg cramps up and refuses to function. When I do go out to a hockey game or a friends birthday party, I know it's only a matter of time before I grimace in pain. I do my best to hide it and not bring it up when I'm with friends. I don't want my injuries to define who I am or what I'm capable of doing. I'm sick and tired of it. I am frustrated that I have had to alter my ambitions and goals in life because another persons mistake. It's something that I'm still trying to come to terms with.
How do I take back my life? How do I push past my limitations? How do I accurately convey to people what I'm going through?
In the meantime, I'm trying to learn to relax, to enjoy free time. We'll see how that works out.
I don't know...at the beginning of this I had an insane spark to write. I knew exactly what I wanted to say and it was uplifting and fun. Sure enough, I got on a tangent and forgot everything ha.
I stepped away from this for a few minutes and picked up one of my coffee table books and threw on Pandora. The book I picked up is one of my favorites. 'A Lifetime of Secrets.' It's one of the Post Secret collections. I must admit, I was strangely compelled to Post Secret while I was in high school. I was odd, goofy, shy and bullied for working in the cafeteria. I felt empowered by all these people sending in their deepest secrets for all to see. The anonymity of it has the capability for any one of those secrets to be the readers own demons. Looking through it now, I see postcards that applied to me in the past, confessions that are mine currently and future confidences. It's amazing.
One of the postcards that sticks out for me shows a family in their front yard posing for a silly picture. The text covers their faces and says, "I rarely tell my amazing family that I love them because I'm afraid of showing WEAKNESS." That hits home for me. As a child, we had lots of hard times and struggles. I was raised to be strong in the face of adversity. To never show weakness or ask for help. Due to that upbringing, I find it very difficult to express any of my feelings in a healthy way.
I also have a tendency to push away good, honest people and gravitate to jerks who just waste my time. This applies to friends as well as romantic relationships. Why is it I haven't been able to switch that thinking around? My guess is I feel like every person is a going to do something to hurt me, might as well go for the folks that I can see it coming with. Be able to prepare for disappointment rather than waiting for the ticking time bomb that the "good guys" have waiting.
Better yet, I know my past and the disappointments I hold. I would hate to hurt a good guy and turn him into a bitter asshole. I did that once before, unintentionally, and it broke my heart. It's easier to fall for someone bad for me when I'd be bad for the good one.
I have no clue if this stream of consciousness is making any sense or not, but screw it. I don't feel like re-reading this. I'm just going to post and let it be. No sense editing who I am. This isn't your blog. It's mine. I just wish I could focus! I hope you are having a wonderful day and here's hoping my next post will make more sense and not take another 6 months to happen!
Monday, February 18, 2013
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Wicked Lies
I grew up being told by peers and "loved" ones that I was a stupid, ugly bitch. I was worthless and would never amount to anything. I believed them. It's hard not too when you hear those wicked lies nearly every day for well over a decade. It was a habit that was forced on me. I knew nothing else, so of course I thought it was true.
I chose to live a life sheltered from the outside world. I forced my mom to call me in sick to the school to avoid the bullying. I went home early at least once a week and skipped classes whenever I could. I hid from everyone, including myself. Why would I want to like myself when clearly no one else did? I resorted to day dreaming. Fantasizing about how wonderful I wish my life was. I only watched movies that showed kids having bigger than life kind of lives. Like Blank Check and Richie Rich. I wanted those lives..the mansions and toys. I was akin to the loneliness it came with, so sign me up! I thought.
In my dreams I created the perfect family. A family that wasn't torn by divorce. A family that loved me and treated me well. A family without neglect or abuse. I also created friends who would stick with me through anything, not that I would need them to because this wishful dream made my bullies kind and wanting to be my friend. Thats pretty much all that happened in my childhood. Neglect, ugly, worthless, abuse, taunting. Lather, Rinse, Repeat.
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't treated that way by everyone. I had several family members who tried to be kind to me and a few classmates with good moral compasses. I just couldn't see that until much later in life. I was such an angry, hate-filled child. I may have backed down from my bullies, but I didn't fall down. Instead, I became a bully myself. I hated who people said I was so badly, that I became someone so much worse. I did the same thing to other children to make myself feel better. I wanted, no, NEEDED control. I would push kids off the top of the jungle gym. I remember kicking dirt into a girls face after I dislocated her shoulder and pushed her to the ground. I hit, bit and pinched people. Peers and teachers alike. I was a grade A terror.
Basically, I was a fucked up kid. I was mean to everyone I met.
My parents tried everything. They took me to lots of counselors and tried giving me more things I wanted to try and make me behave. Finally it started to take, but I didn't find peace until I was able to cast off all those dreadful misconceptions of me. I was an ugly human because I was told I was. I acted like a bitch because I was fulfilling what I was told. I needed to tell myself that I wasn't those things until I believed it.
That realization happened in 2007. I needed to change how I had thought of myself for 17 years. I needed to look at myself and say, "Gayle, you are a smart, beautiful, worthwhile person. You are capable to love and be loved. You don't need to bring others down to rise yourself up." That was possibly the hardest thing I had ever said up to that point in my life. I didn't believe the words I was saying. I thought there wasn't a chance in hell that I ever would believe that. I went several more years telling myself those positive truths without believing them. It honestly wasn't until my bad accident earlier this year that I believed I was beautiful and worthwhile. I realized how fragile and meaningful life is. I ran with it. I have noticed my confidence skyrocket. I'm not saying I'm self involved and can't walk past a mirror without stopping for a look. What I am saying though is that I have a new appreciation for myself and regardless of what physical beauty I may or may not have...I am a genuinely happy person on the inside and can feel it radiating out. I see myself feeling joy and I believe that is when I am most beautiful. I strive now to do things for others, even if seemingly innocuous I get a great pleasure from helping others and being an all around nice person. I try to listen, help or just be present for others. I enjoy doing random acts of kindness for strangers and light up knowing that I just did something nice for someone.
I don't wish for anyone else to feel as decayed as I did when I was being picked on, and I definitely don't want anyone to feel as evil or shitty as I did when I was the bully.
I know I can't take back my actions from my youth, but I can break the cycle..and that's a damn good feeling.
I chose to live a life sheltered from the outside world. I forced my mom to call me in sick to the school to avoid the bullying. I went home early at least once a week and skipped classes whenever I could. I hid from everyone, including myself. Why would I want to like myself when clearly no one else did? I resorted to day dreaming. Fantasizing about how wonderful I wish my life was. I only watched movies that showed kids having bigger than life kind of lives. Like Blank Check and Richie Rich. I wanted those lives..the mansions and toys. I was akin to the loneliness it came with, so sign me up! I thought.
In my dreams I created the perfect family. A family that wasn't torn by divorce. A family that loved me and treated me well. A family without neglect or abuse. I also created friends who would stick with me through anything, not that I would need them to because this wishful dream made my bullies kind and wanting to be my friend. Thats pretty much all that happened in my childhood. Neglect, ugly, worthless, abuse, taunting. Lather, Rinse, Repeat.
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't treated that way by everyone. I had several family members who tried to be kind to me and a few classmates with good moral compasses. I just couldn't see that until much later in life. I was such an angry, hate-filled child. I may have backed down from my bullies, but I didn't fall down. Instead, I became a bully myself. I hated who people said I was so badly, that I became someone so much worse. I did the same thing to other children to make myself feel better. I wanted, no, NEEDED control. I would push kids off the top of the jungle gym. I remember kicking dirt into a girls face after I dislocated her shoulder and pushed her to the ground. I hit, bit and pinched people. Peers and teachers alike. I was a grade A terror.
Basically, I was a fucked up kid. I was mean to everyone I met.
My parents tried everything. They took me to lots of counselors and tried giving me more things I wanted to try and make me behave. Finally it started to take, but I didn't find peace until I was able to cast off all those dreadful misconceptions of me. I was an ugly human because I was told I was. I acted like a bitch because I was fulfilling what I was told. I needed to tell myself that I wasn't those things until I believed it.
That realization happened in 2007. I needed to change how I had thought of myself for 17 years. I needed to look at myself and say, "Gayle, you are a smart, beautiful, worthwhile person. You are capable to love and be loved. You don't need to bring others down to rise yourself up." That was possibly the hardest thing I had ever said up to that point in my life. I didn't believe the words I was saying. I thought there wasn't a chance in hell that I ever would believe that. I went several more years telling myself those positive truths without believing them. It honestly wasn't until my bad accident earlier this year that I believed I was beautiful and worthwhile. I realized how fragile and meaningful life is. I ran with it. I have noticed my confidence skyrocket. I'm not saying I'm self involved and can't walk past a mirror without stopping for a look. What I am saying though is that I have a new appreciation for myself and regardless of what physical beauty I may or may not have...I am a genuinely happy person on the inside and can feel it radiating out. I see myself feeling joy and I believe that is when I am most beautiful. I strive now to do things for others, even if seemingly innocuous I get a great pleasure from helping others and being an all around nice person. I try to listen, help or just be present for others. I enjoy doing random acts of kindness for strangers and light up knowing that I just did something nice for someone.
I don't wish for anyone else to feel as decayed as I did when I was being picked on, and I definitely don't want anyone to feel as evil or shitty as I did when I was the bully.
I know I can't take back my actions from my youth, but I can break the cycle..and that's a damn good feeling.
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