Epiphany #1

I had an epiphany. I can hear my loved one's blood start to boil and chill simultaneously as they begin to read this. I think it must be really hard on those who love me or claim they love me to actually do so, because I'm not really lovable. Actually, I'm quite difficult to form an attachment to that's lasting and meaningful. In my defense, that has only been applying for the last couple of years AND it not a self-description, but the description of those much better and smarter than me.

But I digress...as usual. What was I talking about? Oh, yeah, my epiphany. I'm thinking that if my parents could raise me all over again, knowing what they know now, they would have done things different. All that squashing my natural outspokeness, my slight flares in temper, and need to call a spade a spade probably seemed like a good idea at the time. The careful pruning of my nature that turned me into the peace maker in the family, an Olympic-class mediator and general bull-shit swallower...eww, mental image. I guess that was needed in a big family where the father had a psycho temper, the mother was co-dependent and ambivalent and there were 4 children under the age of 6 plus numerous young cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents...all who had to be kept happy. It was like walking around in a shack full of dynamite with a lighted match in your hand...ah, childhood...good times. To this day a slammed door or stomping feet make me either want to explode or cower and try to make the angry person happy. Sucks to have a broken brain sometimes. So when I get the whys? from the family, you know, the 'why don't you, why couldn't you, why do yous'? , I just say "I am a product of my environment" and take absolutely no responsibility for my being a wimp assed bitch.

But I'm gradually finding myself. It's scary sometimes to see red and go ballistic...even if its just internal. I can be vocal at work or in public but not with the family still or those close to me. I blog. I scrapbook. I quilt. I get lost in books or music or movies. The same books...over and over; the same songs...over and over; the same movies...ditto. I start much, I finish little--broken brain. I deal with it. I go to the dark place, realign my chi and come back out, raring to go and loaded for bear.

One of these days, my conversations won't be preceded with the words "I was gonna tell her, but" or "It's a good thing I didn't" or "If they only knew" because I WILL tell and I WILL do and they WILL know. Oh, glorious day of awakening.... I can't wait until I grow some balls.

So basically, my epiphany is this... I wish I had had a different life....then maybe I wouldn't wish I were smarter, prettier, more confident, nicer, more patient, tolerant and forgiving. Instead I am a 45 year old grandmother with wrinkles, stubborn grey hair, dimples in my butt, impatient, unkind, hateful, bitter and tired.

I'm sure my mom doesn't sit around and gloat over the me that I am...I wonder do other people. I hope so because there's nothing worse than wasted effort and fruitless pursuits.

DISCLAIMER - no, no one has unkee-d with me, no one has hurt my little feelings, the voices aren't jacking with me, I'm not taking things out of context, no one has been mean, I'm not bent about something I've seen, heard or noticed when I was minding other peoples business instead of my own. I just need to vent a skoosh. Something happened today that made me disgusted with myself (really not important anymore- just one of those negligible 'I'm the only one who would have noticed it things' coz I overanalyze everything and I am SOOOOOOOOOO sensitive. (Note: if I were really THAT sensitive, wouldn't I be making life hell for the deserving every day?

One of these days things will be great...I know that. I couldn't have been that bad in a former life. At least I don't think I could have.