I realized this morning I haven’t written anything on here in like a week. Slacker! I haven’t done much of anything on my computer that wasn’t work or late night Grey’s Anatomy. I’ve had a lot on my plate lately. I’ve been doing lots of thinking and lots of doing.
For as long as I can remember, my brain runs kind of like a four lane freeway. I’m always thinking, rapidly. So many thoughts tend to travel through my mind, some heading north, some heading south. They are congested and crash into each other. As an adult it is very stressful to have a brain that works like that because they are always neurotic thoughts it seems. Well, at least it’s that way for me. I tend to be pretty neurotic without even trying(thanks, dad!). My mind has been wrapped around things like my son’s father, physical pain, emotional pain, and grieving past relationships. The late night viewings of Grey’s Anatomy doesn’t help at all. That show really puts you in touch with your emotional feelings. Sounds like crap, right? Anyway, I’ve realized why it has been so difficult for me to grow. The more I grow, the more I think about the things that have held me back. I don’t like thinking about those things, they make me feel generally sad and shitty. Self reflection is hard, and overwhelming, and I’ve kept myself at an emotionally stunted state by trying not to think about those things. This time, I’m just taking it one hurdle at a time, no matter how painful it is. I want to grow, I need to grow. It’s okay to be emotionally fucked when you have an infant, or even a toddler. They can’t see when you’re in pain. They don’t noticed if you’re thoughts are being haunted by the unfortunate experiences of your life. But my son is growing up, and he will notice these things in the near future, so I need to get my shit together.
I recently acquired a new primary care physician. My last one couldn’t have cared less about her patients, I won’t even think of delving into the details because I’ll just get annoyed and go off on a tangent about it. This guy is great, and thorough. Which is great, but also kind of irritating because it’s requiring me to run all over the place to get shit done. I’ve been dealing with chronic back pain for quite some time, so I’m needing to participate in physical therapy, and get an x-ray to hopefully convince my insurance company to approve an MRI. Physical therapy is crap. The physical therapists are fucking obnoxiously nice and they make me do crap that makes my back hurt more than it did when I came in. Kill me. Or drug me. Preferably the second option. Squeezing physical therapy into my normal routine is killing me. I need a husband. Just for cleaning and laundry doing purposes.
After my busy weekend, we start potty training. How weird is it that I’m excited? Maybe I’m excited because the only other emotion most parents typically feel right before potty training is complete terror. But, he’s been showing me the signs that he is ready. So I went out, purchased a potty and some boxer-briefs(I fucking hate tighty whitees), and we are going to take a stab at it in a couple more days.
I’ve been cleaning a lot lately. I think it might be obsessive compulsive. I hate cleaning, I really do. I’ve always wanted to be that person that enjoyed it. I have even tried to fake that I enjoy it, thinking I might end up enjoying it if I faked it long enough. But no, I still fucking hate it. And yet I’ve been doing it more frequently. Maybe I’m sub-consciously seeking out a form of therapy, because I refuse to go out and see an actual therapist.
Ok, it is now time for some Grey’s Anatomy. I will be posting about some kick-ass recipes this weekend 🙂