...and I wonder whose it is and if they are enjoying it.
Do you ever find yourself driving down the road at night, with the windows down, enjoying the wind and the freedom and find yourself thinking how easy it would be to just... keep on driving?
I found myself in just that state of mind last night. I was driving home after yet another day of being stressed, and just driving down the road, with the windows down, and no radio playing. Just me and the sounds of the road. And my exit was coming up, and I thought, "I wish I could just keep driving."
Then reality set in. Mainly, money and my lack thereof.
Lately, I feel like I don't have any control over my own life. It's sad isn't it? It's not like I have a spouse to worry about making sure I consider in my decisions. Nor am I a teenager any longer, subject to the whim and fancy of my parents. But I feel so constricted by everyone else, that I don't have time to worry about what I want to do, and even if I did, I don't know what I want to do anyway. And when I'm unhappy, I worry that my unhappiness is going to make someone else unhappy, so I hide it behind a facade of happiness, so as not to be a bother.
It's just that the people that I care about mean so much to me, I don't want to do anything to upset them, or disappoint them, or hurt them. Their opinions of me matter to me so much as well, because I hold them in such high esteem.
Even down to the littlest thing, I wind up thinking about other people before me. I don't even realize it sometimes. And yet, conversely, I feel entirely selfish, because I sometimes find myself wanting to do what I want to do and not care what anyone else thinks. It doesn't even make sense to me.
For example, I want to go out. First I have to consider how the person I'm going out with feels. Then, how my parents are going to feel by my not coming home. Then, I might consider if I feel like going out at all.
Or like, I have a few days off coming up that I had scheduled for something else, that is no longer happening. So I found myself thinking about just going somewhere. By myself. Then I thought, "Oh, no. I shouldn't do that. It would upset my mother. She'd worry about me being alone in a strange place."
When I called my parents to tell them about my seperation, I was worried they were mad at me for screwing up my marriage. If it would inconvenience them if I moved back in. What my family would think.
Even in my job, I feel like I have no control. They push me to one department, move me here, put me in training there, don't tell me how it's going to effect my position, my salary, my work load. And I put up with it, because as long as I'm getting a check every other Thursday, who am I to complain? I shouldn't be so selfish as to complain about my job when I could be unemployed. See, even now, I feel like an utter shit for mentioning that I might be unhappy in my job.
I feel like such a selfish bitch even wishing I didn't think about what other people might think of me. How could I be so selfish? Me, me, me.
It's all about me. And the world will be much better off as soon as everyone else realizes it!
Except it's not. I can't remember the last time I just did something because I wanted to.
I'll probably regret typing this up tomorrow. Even as I re-read this entry, I think I sound like an utter bitch. Oh look at me whining about people that love me. I have a good life. Friends, family, a job. Why am I feeling so unhappy? Forget I mentioned it... I just like to put these thoughts down so they stop swimming around in my head and let me actually get a decent night's sleep for a change. I almost cancelled the post, just because I thought someone might read it and think I'm a whiny, selfish bitch.
I'll feel better tomorrow. Or at least... I'll act like it.
Friday, July 21
Sunday, July 16
Weight Loss and Negative Reinforcement
Last Sunday I went out with my mother to buy new sheets like my brother had been telling her about. (The fabric is called modal, and it's made from beechwood. They sell it at Bed, Bath and Beyond and they're so fucking soft. The jersey style fabric is the best! So soft...) Erm, anyway. Where was I?
Oh right.
Well, since we were out, my mother mentioned that I would be needing a bathing suit for the vacation I'm going on with them in September, so we head over to my favourite clothing store and go clothes shopping. I found one that I liked, a two-piece with a really low front and a skirt at the bottom, in my favourite colour to wear... black.
We get home and my father asks if we had fun and I said, "Yes, and we went shopping for a bathing suit for me, and I found one that I like." My mother says, "Yes, it looks really good on her, too. The twenty pounds she's lost since January have really made a difference."
Later that evening, my father and I went out to the movies. (Yes, this is the same day that my father and I went to see Superman that I was talking about in my blog of last weekend.) As we were driving there, I don't remember what brought it up now, but my dad started talking about how I'm out doing things with friends a lot. Then he says, "Now imagine if you lost another hundred pounds. You'd be out every night."
Thank you so much, dad. Really. Never mind that I've already lost twenty pounds. No "Good job, you look good" there. No, just a "Hey, you need to loose more weight." He's said things before along the lines of "Imagine how pretty you would be if you lost another hundred pounds."
I was telling Robbie about this, and he said my dad said something similar to him about me. How if I lost another hundred pounds I'd be pretty, and would be beating men off with a stick. Thank you Robbie for standing up for me and telling my father that I'm beautiful the way I am, and that if someone is only interested in me for how I look, they're not worthy of me anyway.
Now, I know what most of you are going to think. I've thought it myself. Tell him how I feel. Tell him it bothers me. Blah, blah, blah. Well, I've done that. Then he goes on about how he just cares about my health, he just does it because he loves me, et cetera. Then goes right back to doing the same thing.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. I love my dad very much. I'm close to both my parents. But as with every other human being out there, we all have our faults. This is one that I view in my father.
Yes, it upsets me. No, it won't do any good to tell him. Trying to get my dad to change is like banging your head against a brick wall. It doesn't phase the wall, and gives you a headache.
Oh right.
Well, since we were out, my mother mentioned that I would be needing a bathing suit for the vacation I'm going on with them in September, so we head over to my favourite clothing store and go clothes shopping. I found one that I liked, a two-piece with a really low front and a skirt at the bottom, in my favourite colour to wear... black.
We get home and my father asks if we had fun and I said, "Yes, and we went shopping for a bathing suit for me, and I found one that I like." My mother says, "Yes, it looks really good on her, too. The twenty pounds she's lost since January have really made a difference."
Later that evening, my father and I went out to the movies. (Yes, this is the same day that my father and I went to see Superman that I was talking about in my blog of last weekend.) As we were driving there, I don't remember what brought it up now, but my dad started talking about how I'm out doing things with friends a lot. Then he says, "Now imagine if you lost another hundred pounds. You'd be out every night."
Thank you so much, dad. Really. Never mind that I've already lost twenty pounds. No "Good job, you look good" there. No, just a "Hey, you need to loose more weight." He's said things before along the lines of "Imagine how pretty you would be if you lost another hundred pounds."
I was telling Robbie about this, and he said my dad said something similar to him about me. How if I lost another hundred pounds I'd be pretty, and would be beating men off with a stick. Thank you Robbie for standing up for me and telling my father that I'm beautiful the way I am, and that if someone is only interested in me for how I look, they're not worthy of me anyway.
Now, I know what most of you are going to think. I've thought it myself. Tell him how I feel. Tell him it bothers me. Blah, blah, blah. Well, I've done that. Then he goes on about how he just cares about my health, he just does it because he loves me, et cetera. Then goes right back to doing the same thing.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. I love my dad very much. I'm close to both my parents. But as with every other human being out there, we all have our faults. This is one that I view in my father.
Yes, it upsets me. No, it won't do any good to tell him. Trying to get my dad to change is like banging your head against a brick wall. It doesn't phase the wall, and gives you a headache.
Thursday, July 6
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