I've wrapped myself up deep inside my self for such a long time. Even as I write this- I'm reminded of the short hour ago when my focus was on me. My comfort levels, my desires, my plans, my fears, my frustrations, my..... me.
It's in the quiet that I find my regret.
In the moment- in the here and now, and hustle and bustle, and the everything self centered, I think of myself. Unintentionally I put me in the forward. Certain actions, certain aspirations, certain methods- they seem so selfless. But when a reality check is called into play, I'm forced to realize that most of my everything is pure selfishness.
And I want to get away from myself.
I want to put me on the back burner.
Me last. Me never. Me no more.
Despite how sick of myself I am. I'm still first. Even now- I'm writing for my own pleasure- using it as an outlet, a way to relieve the emotional build up inside my heavy, heavy heart.
Before I go to bed tonight- I'll soak my achy muscles in a hot, hot bath, listening to the music I wanna listen to, I'll pour essential oils into the water that please my aromatic desires, I'll read whatever book, or magazine that I feel like reading...... It'll be about me.
I'll be serving myself. Nobody else.
And that'll be ok. Right?
Cause I gotta take care of me.
To a degree.
It's a duty.
I gotta take care of me,
one way or the other.
Which makes dying to me-
all the more harder.
Tragedy puts perspective in my face like nothing else has ever been able to. Tragedy slaps a hard blow of sense into me, but as quickly as tragedy arises- is as quickly as her effects seem to disappear.
* A husband has an affair, and leaves his family in total confusion. I snuggle a bit closer to my faithful man in that moment- yet in the next moment- I'm angry and bitter about the (not so) little things that we deal with in our day to day, wondering what stupidity could have overcome me to convince me that I should've gotten married in the first place.
*A young mother loses her very young child, and I hug my daughters tighter, tell them I love them over and over, and drink in every ounce of goodness that is with in them- yet in the next moment- I find myself overwhelmed with the tasks of breakfast complaints when we're running late for school, spilled milk in the middle of dinner after my hands and knees had spent so long on the grungy floor earlier that afternoon, mid-day melt downs from my tired 3 year old, squealing shrieking coming from my 5 year old, and drama queen explosions from my overly sensitive 7 year old.
*An unborn child and a young wife loses their father/husband, and I thank God for my husband and the father of my children, who is here on the Earth- yet in the next moment- I pound my fist into the air and ask God what I did to deserve the challenges that go along with this marriage, and our hectic family life.
It makes no sense! I feel ignorant. Stupid! Absolutely vain, and ungrateful.
What life do I have? A. Good. One. Write it all down- sure- it has seriously sucked here and there... but keep writing it down- dig a lil deeper, put the core to the front, and oh-my-goodness-gracious I've been supremely blessed.
I want to be light-hearted. I want to write sillyness and fun-ness, and tell about all the grande amazing life thingy's. And I do, somewhere deep down, have a thankful heart- but right now it's super-sized heavy. For those around me that have been drenched in tragedy- and loss- and heart broken-ness, and for myself (cause I'm absolutely selfish) because I realize what an idiot I am for not cherishing the ever-wondrous life that I have been so richly blessed with in the there, and the here, and the right-this-very-moment NOW.
8 months ago