Since defining my mainline problem of being extremely insecure, I actually feel as though a large weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

Going through some of my not-so-proud moments, I realize that being insecure has been a driving force in many of my emotional reactions and decision-making process.

When I was 18 and halfway into my senior year at a community college, I was involved in a very lustful (thought it was real love at the time) relationship and decided to move in with him to another part of the state.  I did it because A)  He told me that if I didn’t he couldn’t see us lasting as long relationships are hard and B) I wanted the security of having him near.

As much as I would like to regret that decision, I can’t.  Had I not moved in with him and let things disintegrate naturally from a distance, then the probability of getting to where I am today would be slim.  However, I now recognize that I made a huge decision just based on insecurity and not based on logic or even a strong gut feeling.

I have also have kept my mother-in-law at bay from the moment I met her.  There were a few times I got angry over stupid things in regards to a situation she happened to be in or on the edge of and *now* I recognize why.  I had thought it was her.  Now I realize it was me.

I have always felt (at least to some degree), that I needed to keep this perfect image around her.  I never wanted her to see then (or even now) my vulnerabilities and weaknesses.  Being myself around the MIL has never been easy for me.  I feel like I smile even when I don’t feel like smiling.  During those times, I wonder if cracks are forming at the edge of my upturned lips to show how fake I really am being at the moment.

The fakeness comes from not wanting to face the emotions head-on.  Or at least, not wanting to be honest about my emotions.  For the sake of peace, I fake it.  Then again, some of the turmoil in the relationship with my MIL is due to my own insecurities and fear that she will take over and deem me not good enough for her son or even my own children.

I have a hard time believing that she could ever really love me for real and not just because I am her son’s wife and the mother of her grandchildren.

So I know that I have come at least one tiny step ahead in this situation.  There are varying degrees of insecurity in all facets of my life.  I want to fix them and overcome these demons.

I guess that’s why I have this blog…right?

It’s strange…

some days, I feel okay… dare I say a little happy.  Other days, it’s as if someone has switched off the light inside my head and I travel back down the dark rabbit hole and await for the cobwebs to start eating my brain.

Today, isn’t one of those days.  I actually notice that the sun is shining and I smile.  My temper is kept in check with the kids.  Owbie pushed his sister off of the coffee table earlier today and instead of losing my cool, I calmly told him to go stand in the corner for a timeout and think about what he did.  4 minutes later, he came out of the corner and gave her a hug.  He then gave me one too.

I did not feel frustrated or annoyed.  For once, I just felt calm.

We had a good weekend, my family and I.  Hubb gave me some time to work on the term paper due for my philosophy class.   The kids were strangely on their best behavior.

Hubb asked me what I wanted for mother’s day.  My reply?  Just a nice day out with my family.  I thought it would be super fun to make a picnic lunch and take the kids to a great big park.  I would rather spend time with my family on that day.  I don’t need expensive gifts or an evening out…. just being with hubb and the kids is all I need.

I know that a lot of my mood swings and depression can be chalked up to the pregnancy.  I am afraid of the impending postpartum depression after the pregnancy, that’s for sure.  I will remind my doctor next week.  I don’t want to take the chance on being a total wreck after the birth.  My kids are too important to me.

I came to grips with the situation involving my dad.  It isn’t my responsibility to make him be a grandpa.  Nor is it my responsibility to take care of my brother.  My parents need to take care of their children and I need to take care of mine.  It is as simple as that.  It doesn’t make me a bad person because my father doesn’t want to give up watching Fox News for a weekend to see his grandkids.  It also doesn’t make me a bad person that my Marine brother wants to come home and I don’t have the funds to pay for it.  As much as I love my brother, the situation isn’t mine to handle.

The weight of the world does not have to end up on my shoulders.  Sometimes, I have a habit of taking responsibility for things that are not my responsibility.  It can be chalked up to the guilt-thing I was talking about in an earlier post.

Now, to remember that everything is not my responsibility or fault will be another uphill challenge.  Pregnancy amnesia has me forgetting a lot of things lately.

It’s raining here.  As surely as the rain drops are falling down the window panes, so do the tear drops on my face.  I am miserable.  I am having a rough week and I just want to crawl under the covers in my bed and sleep for the longest time.

I’m on the last leg of my pregnancy with roughly 8 weeks to go.  Week 30 has found me to be an emotional wreck.  I’m extremely short-tempered with the kids and it seems like I am yelling at them more frequently than normal.  The thing is, I love my children so much.  They are the rising and setting sun to me.  I really don’t like to yell at them yet it seems I pull that discipline tactic out of my hat more often than not.

Today, some of my tears were over the conversation I had with my mother yesterday.  Things were okay and then she laid a big guilt trip on me about my brother coming home from the Marines.  My oldest brother (Mikey) and I were going to try and put some money toward his ticket so that it would make it easier for him to come home.  The thing is, hubb and I have neither a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.  This can be taken literally and figuratively.  If I had money, I would most certainly pay for the whole thing but I have none and a third child on the way to boot.  Still, somehow, I end up being a selfish daughter and the financial burden to bring my brother (Meb) home from Japan must rest on my mother’s shoulders once again.  Well, what the hell?  She is his mother and is responsible for that sort of thing.  I have 2 (almost) 3 children of my own to take care of and bankroll for.

This just brings me back to my childhood where she would put an extreme amount of pressure on me.  I helped raise my little brothers and take care of the household.  Sometimes, it felt as though I were a 30 year old living inside the body of a 12 year old.  I had kids before I had a period.  I don’t blame my parents for these things as I don’t think they had a choice.  In the end it made me a more mature and capable person but still, they coddle and baby my brothers (who are 25, 20, and 18 respectively).  They expect me to do the same.  They don’t have faith that my brothers can handle things on their own.  It’s really sad.

On the other hand, I have 2 children of my own who barely get to see their grandparents.  My mother tries hard to make an effort to see the kids.  She really does.  My father on the other hand, makes no effort at all and then expects all of the effort to fall on MY shoulders.  He’s seen my children a total of maybe 6 times in 4 years.  Owbie is only 3 1/2 and Pretty is 16 months.  So she has only seen my dad 3 of the 6 times.

I feel like I have to force him to give a fuck.

My mom cares but does very little to change the situation.  If my dad wants something, he gets it.  If he doesn’t want something, then she doesn’t do it either.  She makes a bit more of an extended effort (so I really don’t feel like I can be mad at her about this).  My dad on the other hand, makes no effort whatsoever.  In the 10 years I have lived here, my father has come to visit me only once (for Owbie’s baptism).  His vacation time is eaten up by events on his own side of the family.  I’m having my final baby this year, but he is using the rest of his vactation time to attend the wedding of my cousin.  Do you think he could spare a couple of days for his own daughter and his new grandchild and current grandchildren?  Nope.

I try so hard to be understanding and non-selfish when it comes to my parent’s attention and affection.  On the other hand I ask…. when do I get a turn?  When do my children become suddenly important to my father?  My mom tries to tell me that dad loves his grandkids and loves getting things for them.  In reality, I think she is blowing a big wad of smoke up my butt.  The truth is, he doesn’t care.  The only thing he cares about is my mom (which is a good thing) and getting to have HIS time.  Actions speak louder than words.

So all of this crap is coming to a head and i’m sitting here “crying it out”.  Whenever it comes to my parents, i’ve always gotten the short end of the stick.  Their attention has always been toward my brothers.  I love my brothers.  So, there’s no jealousy there.  Only pent up anger toward my parents.  I have tried to talk to them in the past but it falls on deaf ears.

Right now, my brother Mikey is the one who my kids know the most from my family.  Mikey makes an effort to be apart of my life and I make an effort to be apart of his.  We actually are extremely supportive of one another.  It’s a good bond that we have.  It is only a matter of time before my other two brothers (Meb and Shark) are brought in to the bond.

Coming full circle here:  I really don’t want to end up like my parents.  I really want to treat my children with love, respect and encouragement no matter what age they are.  I want to show each of them how important they are to me.

No wonder I eat to numb the pain.  It’s better than facing stuff like this.

Guilt is an emotion that rises after a wrongdoing, which may be contrary to one’s own or cultural values. Guilt is a common emotional reaction to our defending Inner Critic, proclaiming, “You have broken a rule and you should (not), must (not), or ought (not) behave like this means, guilt implies that you did something ‘wrong’.” Feeling guilty often amplifies personal shame, and feels similar to it. Moderate (”normal”) guilt promotes healthy personal decisions.

There is a different between guilt and shame, guilt is about our actions taken; shame is about the self-behavior. (Charminghealth.com) Often the causes of “Feeling guilty and holding ourselves responsible for all wrongdoings“ are more mental than physical. A bad relationship, poor self image, a history of abuse, stress, frustration and many other factors can change your overall attitude towards life which may directly impede your overall performance. Such tendencies are deep-rooted in mind and nurtured by excessive Negative Emotions (Charminghealth.com)

For as long as I can remember, I have always felt guilty and shameful for things that were not my fault.  If something went wrong in my parent’s marriage, I felt as if it were my fault.  If our house was somehow a mess, it was all me.  The guilt complex has (I believe) helped in fucking me over emotionally.  So to speak.

There are so many instances where I would find myself eating out of guilt or shame.  The intense feelings lead to an inner voice that told me I deserved to be fat.  That I was fated to be fat because of all of my bad choices.  I told myself that I was not good enough to be thin.  Though I have always tried to be a good person, I have always felt like a bad person.  Feeling bad about myself turned into a ritual of name calling and naming off a list of good things that I certainly did not deserve.   So down the hatch went the krispy kremes.  Who gives a fuck, right?  I’m unlovable so why care?

That was me then.

When I was in school, kids were especially cruel.  Not a day went by that a disparaging “fat comment” wasn’t called out.  The butt of everyone’s jokes… that is who I was.  I let it define me when I was in school.

Now, i’m an adult who has three kids and I find myself sliding back to adolescent Mia.  As it stands, I feel hugely guilty everyday.  I feel that i’m not an adequate mom, wife or friend.

My inner critic is loud and proud.  She has started taking on the voice of my mother.  My mother is an extremely critical person and has been critical of me my whole life.  I don’t blame her for the choices she made as I do not believe she could have reacted any other way.  Being critical and controlling is ingrained in her.  It is how she was treated as a child.  Unfortunately, I am my mother’s daughter.  I find myself to be critical but I try to up the anti with sweetness and encouragement.

I made a promise to myself a long time ago, that I would not treat another human being as I was treated.  I made a promise that I would always encourage my children to be their very best and that I would always be their biggest fan no matter what.

Now the question becomes; why do I find it most difficult to be my own biggest fan?  The “present me” wants so desperately to get the inner critic to take a breather and shut up for awhile.  I want the voice to change over to the inner encourager.  Let that voice take the reigns for awhile.

I’m trying to sift through the things in my life (from then to now).  I don’t blame my parents for everything or anything really.  Certain instances that happened in my childhood certainly played part in where I am at today, but it only defines who I am if I let it.

I am the only one in control of me.  Not my parents, not my husband… just me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reference:

Excessive Guilt, Feeling extremely guilty. Retrieved April 23, 2008, from CharmingHealth.com Web site: http://www.charminghealth.com/applicability/guilt.htm