The truth hurts.

1974 Vintage (Tattered) Holly Hobbie Doll

So I'm listening to Taylor Swift on repeat. It's a beautiful thing. I don't know why I get hooked on stuff, but she is definitely my current fave. I'm also hooked on having lots of thinking time. 108 degrees will do that to a person. Don't you wish that thinking actually helped a person? That somehow we could think our way out of problems? But no. It doesn't work that way. We have to talk, communicate with others. We have to be in relationships with other people, and that's where it gets tricky.

Yesterday, I received a lovely email from a relative telling me what a terrible person/daughter I am, etc, etc. Now, unless you begin to fret, I'll let you in on a secret: I've received at least a hundred of these things in my lifetime, and do not intend to have a freak-out on account of other people's misplaced anxiety. That being said, 100 of these nasty things can make a girl tired, and in 108 degrees, just done. So, even though I usually throw them away and move on with my day, this one stuck with me, as they tend to do every so often. And in a rare moment of clarity and temperance, I responded.

Nasty emails should not always be responded to. I find that filtering my email (along with various other accounts), allows me to completely avoid the nastiness that other people like to send my way. But sometimes the truth is necessary, and needs to be said. And you know what? Oftentimes the truth hurts, because the truth often just sucks. And that's just the truth.

But use with discretion, like alcohol.

Hope for better.

Vintage Christian Dior Eyeglasses - yeah buddy :)

There's a Lori McKenna song that I listened to on repeat last fall. I couldn't get enough of it. It made me feel like someone was speaking from my heart; someone understood how it felt to always be the most honest and vulnerable person in the room.

It seemed like I'd always been in a relationship with someone who cared enough to sleep with me, but not enough to be seen with me. And over and over I felt alone in my feelings, judged by my friends for staying with men who treated me badly, and judged by the significant (?) other for always being too much.

I suppose those experiences taught me to be less expectant, less dependent upon other people for supporting my emotional well-bring. And that's a good thing, no matter what. Today, I'm pretty glad I had a tough time after my first big heartbreak. It's been thirteen years, and I've learned so much about life and love and other people. It's difficult to be bitter when so much good has come out of so much pain. But I'd never tell that seventeen-year-old that her heartache was a good thing. I'd tell her that it was going to hurt more than she ever expected, but that many many years later, things would get better.

I'm done hiding my crazy.

 

My new motto is just to own the crazy. "Do what you feel!" I say. There is only so much emotional health I can cram into my body. Eventually, I have to just roll with it.

I've spent the past few decades over-analyzing every thought and feeling, and I'm just done with it. So I love someone I shouldn't love. What of it? I was in love with my ex-boyfriend for ten years after we broke up, and I spent way too much of that time thinking about it. I never did anything about it. I never talked to my therapist about it. It just sat in my gut, and in the dark parts of my brain, embroiled in guilt and shame. By the time I broke down and confessed it, it made no sense to anyone because I'd never been honest about it. I'm done with living that way.

Now I'm going to be honest. I love who and what I love, and not everyone understands, but I'm done hiding. The honesty isn't always pleasant, but it's way better than holding onto secrets because I'm so afraid of what people will think, or what it means about me as a person.

Oh my goodness! Who cares what it means about me as a person?! It's just a feeling. I'm not any crazier than anyone else.

So I'm just leaving behind all of the extra crazy that comes from thinking I'm crazy, and just owning it. Everyone can think whatever they want to think. I know who I am, and I'm okay with it.