k is for krista

"Never wrestle in the mud with a pig. You both get dirty and the pig likes it."

Barbara L in MA used this quote on the comments board for the Yarn Harlot and I think it pretty well covers what's going on with me.

Pig=Ego

Mud=Self-pity

My ego has really been enjoying wallowing around in the mud of self-pity lately, and I don;t know what's up with that.  We have to find a bigger apartment, preferably a house, but I don't know how we will afford something more with baby expenses upcoming.  We have always been provided for, and God has always given us what we need and most of what we want, but there is a trigger of panic that thinks..."we're not going to pull this off...we're going to go bankrupt...we can only afford to live in section eight..."  Which is just plain ridiculous.  I need to get off this train and hop on a friendlier, funnier one.  I just want time to enjoy this pregnancy, to ponder exciting things about the baby, to think of all the fantastic sweaters and socks I can knit...but when I start thinking baby all I get is a laundry list of complications and worries.  When does this phase of the pregnancy end?????  (when will I stop over-punctuating????)

Don't Bring Me Down, Bruce.

Sorry to be gone so long, but I really needed a break.  I didn't want to feel responsible for one more thing, so the blog was the thing to be canned for awhile.  I sometimes get myself all worked up and stressed that I don't realize I'm going into shutdown mode.  My stress is quiet stress.  My stress is shaky hands, insomnia, smartass comments said under my breath.  Steve is able to freak out, blowup and get it over with.  I just can't do that.  I've tried and the results aren't pretty.  Whether I like it or not, I am expected to keep my head, stay cool and never let 'em see me sweat. 

In high school I was a success.  Last night I fell asleep remembering my Senior awards.  I won a lot of awards, but the ones I remember best were excellence in English and The National Guard Outstanding Leadership award.  I remember the English award because I got a Cross pen and pencil set, and I promised myself flowering poems and prose from that pen.  I still haven't written with it.  I tell myself it's because I don't want to lose it, but really I am afraid that my words will be stale and lifeless and undeserving of such a pen.  The National Guard award was awesome because I had no idea I was even being considered for it.  They spied me at a VICA conference and were impressed with my leadership, energy, and creativity.  Now I'm too shy to order food at a restaurant.  Where is that girl?  Where did that confidence and creativity go?  Where is that smile?

I feel hollow inside.  I don't feel anything, really.  I tried to ask myself what would make me happy, and I couldn't come up with an answer.  I tried to ask myself what makes me sad, angry, or frustrated, and I couldn't come up with an answer.  I think my love is all used up. 

Ten years ago I was a big fish in a little pond.  Am I suffering because I am no longer the big fish?  No.  I'm not competitive.  I just want to be proud of myself again.  I want something.  Where am I going?  Where have I been?  When will I be able to appreciate my gifts and actually do something with them? 

In there we were all in one place,

A generation lost in space,

With no time left to start again.

-Don Mclean