What I Don't Like About Myself

I bet you think it kind of strange to be writing crap like this. I wonder if anybody will bother reading into my self-discovery. Maybe you've had these same kind of journeys from within? But, what the heck, I'm still going to write it all down. Maybe I'll change or change the way I feel about myself? Maybe not, but I need practice with my writing skills and organizing my thoughts. I believe they call this discipline? Yes, right off the rip, I recognize that I'm not too disciplined. I get bored way too easily. I have hundreds of unfinished projects. I suppose that labels me as a starter and not a finisher? Ideas flow through my head continually, but it's unbelievably difficult for me to harness just one. For instance, including this story, I have twelve unfinished drafts.

I also have a closet full of crafts that lack glitter or glue or frames. I have multiple boxes of unfinished projects. I need elves like Santa has, honestly. Or, I just need to face the fact that I'm just not that crafty and have a big donation pile for those that truly are. Yet still, I feel the need to buy more hot glue and dollar store gadgets to create fine art. Is there a 12 step program for people like me?

I sold Avon at one point in my life (when I also had another full time career.) I told myself that I didn't have time to shop for my beauty needs or small gifts for others, so I could just do those tasks easier by ordering and save some money, too. I also planned on having small holiday parties from my home where my guests could snack and buy/order their products/gifts. So, long story short, for anticipation of those events, I accumulated items like lotions and make up, nail polish, and jewelry. Before I realized it, I had a bedroom full of products. I could have opened a retail store. I don't think it was just a coincidence that it had been my mother's bedroom while she had been alive and living with us. Before Avon, it had been painful to pass by her empty room.

My career as a nurse was also an enigma for me. You see, I am an introvert. At times, that is the nice way of saying that I don't like to be around people too much or too often. Nurses are supposed to be caring, compassionate, and have a great amount of patience and tolerance, right? I'm not at all saying I have the leanings of a sociopath, but I had to work at my people skills. I did better at educating patients and students than I ever did sitting at the bedside holding their hands. But, in reality I did both. And I truly cared even though I wasn't great at showing that.

Being a leader requires mastering the art of being a follower. Now, I've never had a problem following anyone I believed that had my best interests at heart, was extremely smart and efficient, or that was just quirky and fun. But, I am a rebel otherwise. "Things" just have to make sense to me. I've had some struggles in adulthood...humor often got me through bad times and bad bosses.

Being a wife is also something I've had to work at. First of all, I'm not a morning person...and he is. This can be problematic. Adjustments had to be made. Those adjustments and others...like housework...well, leave me feeling rather selfish at times. My husband works quickly. I am a slower, more detailed cleaner. He is consistent. I am not. He is the neat one. I am not. I wish I could be, but in all fairness, before we married we took pre-engagement classes and I addressed this issue with him. Now, I don't see the fuss, but because I respect his discipline, I do try a little harder.

I don't like how passionately heated I can become when I feel that my personal values have been disrespected. I try to stay away from religious or political battles. And when I know I can't, I just stay at home. My husband and I can agree on this...and thankfully, we have the same values.

I have only a few friends. And to be quite frank, they mostly keep up with me than the other way around. I know I should connect more often. I do love them. I like quality time over quantity and we pick up where we left off each time. I'm grateful they are there by choice.

Mostly, I don't like my bluntness. Especially with the people I love the most. Honesty can be tempered and I'm praying to learn how. The older I get, the more I feel like I'm running out of time. I hope my children will understand that I am trying to get them to listen as emphatically as I can and I'm really not cold. I've erred and I've apologized, but habits are hard to break. What I'd like them to know is that even though they haven't seen it often, I do cry. And when the tears don't stream down my face it doesn't mean that my heart isn't breaking or my brain isn't exploding. My brain cries often and loudly.

Now that I've muddled through the mirror, it's time to put self-awareness and my brain to rest, forgive myself, and plan to make improvements. It's not for sissies, but healthy nonetheless.