Rock Bottom

Top: Anthropologie Urubamba Tank - Size S

Jeans: AE Jeggings - Size 8

Shoes: Steve Madden Seeri Sandals

Earrings: The Limited

I've been struggling with blogging lately. More accurately, I've been struggling with life lately. Blogging always forces me to look inward, to explore my innermost thoughts and feelings, and over the last month it's been down right scary in there. I've been on a downward spiral since we moved into the house, and last night I think I hit rock bottom.

Even though I did nothing other than sit in my chair at work yesterday, every muscle in my body ached when I got up this morning. I felt like I had been in a fight, and when I thought about it, I guess I had. I had been in a fight with myself. This seems to happen anytime there is a big change in my life. I thought moving into the new house would be fun, and it has had its moments, but for the most part, I've been a stressed out mess. I've spent so much time, energy, and money on decorating the house, and I'm dissatisfied with the results. I don't know why. I've done everything to it that I had set out to do, but I just feel like it looks like crap. My mom doesn't help any. Every time she comes over she lets me know all the things she doesn't like about it. And then there's my middle child... He's a lot like his mommy and doesn't like change either. Add to that school being out and him being off his meds, and it's a bad combination. His first few minutes in the house were spent scribbling "Fuck You" on the kitchen wall, "Ass" on a wall in his sister's room, and "Shit" on the bathroom wall. Hey, at least he wrote shit in the appropriate place (I always try to look at the positive). This was just the beginning of a long list of "home improvements" he's done around the house over the last month. He's hidden things, destroyed flowers, and just yesterday he punched one of the old stove pipe covers and cracked the paint all around it.

Then there was Father's Day. Oh, how I loath holidays. They always remind me how inadequate my family life is and none more so than Father's Day. When the chipper cashier at Target asked me if I was getting ready for Father's Day, I thought for a split second about responding with a cliche' "Yes," but I quickly decided just to tell the guy the truth. Why should I have to lie to fit into society? "No," I said, "my Father doesn't speak to me, so it's a sore subject." Poor cashier guy, he didn't quite know how to respond to that. He said he was sorry, I said it was no problem, and he just kept his head down and stuck to scanning items for the rest of the transaction.

Of course, I've been applying the usual bandaid to my stress, shopping, and it's been a big bandaid this month. So big that I went over my budget, and now I can add financial stress to my repertoire. I put some items on sale to help ease the pain, but even that backfired on me. One of the items I was selling was a gift from a friend. She called me out on it last night, and I felt horrible. It was at this point that I realized I had hit rock bottom. I had a good crying session and woke up this morning with a new resolve.

Life is what me make it. Yes, I've got some good reasons to be stressed out right now, but I'm responsible for how I react to them. I want to enjoy my home rather than fret over it. I want to be a better parent and disciplinarian. I want to spend time with the people in my life who support me (few as they may be at this point) rather than dwell on the ones who don't. Basically, I want to be a better person. From this point forward, I resolve to do less shopping and more work on myself. I'm determined to dig myself out of this hole.