8/09/2012

Blog Therapy

Snickerdoodles

Do you ever just get the itch to bake some cookies? Me, I do. I get that itch all the time. And maybe not to bake cookies, as much as to eat cookie dough. I swear to you, I could eat a whole batch of cookie dough in one sitting. Is that disgusting or what?? Well last night I got "the itch", and opted for some snickerdoodles. {Mostly because I don't have any chocolate chips in the pantry.} Soooo I baked a couple dozen. While they were baking, I ate a good heaping of dough. Then the cookies came out, and my goodness there is no resisting those things when they are fresh, warm and doughy in the center! No matter how filled up on cookie dough you are. Oh and of course, who eats cookies without a tall glass of whole milk? Not me, I keep the whole milk on speed dial just for such occasions.

Fast forward to tonight, as I'm sitting on the couch watching grey's anatomy the olympics and eating chocolate frosting from the can, as one does. And I thought to myself, didn't I already eat two mini twix candy bars today? I really shouldn't be spooning frosting out of the can... Well, that's when I made a decision. And this is it: Who cares about being skinny and healthy anyway?? I choose food!

Well maybe I should get to a point, make this blog stuff more meaningful and what not. Husband is out golfing, little guy just went down for the night, and I'm left to my deep thoughts, thoughts that need to be let out online.

Anyway. This week I've been thinking about some of my shortcomings. We don't really talk about those much, do we? I mean, we're sort of trained not to, right? We want to show the good, talk about the good, make people think the best. But then we are all our worst critics. I have always been aware that I am much harder on myself then anyone else is on me.

You want to know one of my many flaws, one that I don't really admit to? The flaw that has been eating at me this past couple weeks? I keep things inside. A lot of things. Maybe it's because I hate HATE hate confrontation. Or maybe it's because I don't like facing reality. But it's just what I do. Hold things inside, until I am a ticking time bomb. I usually have a 60 second window of "being in the mood" to talk to someone about something I really should get out, but when that 60 seconds passes, that's it. The moment has passed, and I'm just not in the mood anymore. But during that 60 seconds, I always *wish* someone would magically be there. During that moment when I can let it out, when I really WANT to talk about it! But alas, it usually ends up happening when I'm all alone. And if you walk in at second 61, by golly you missed your chance. Because trust me, it just ENDS. Just like that. Why are my feelings so moody anyway??!

Here's the thing. When I was younger...15, to be exact, I picked up the phone and something happened to my family that changed our lives forever. I found out my dad was cheating on my mom. And you know what I did? I went into the bathroom, locked the door, sat on the floor and cried. I must have cried on that black tiled bathroom floor for a good hour.

This is something that is so far in the past that it's ridiculous. Something we've all been able to move on from. My family has been able to pick up the pieces and become close again, some sort of miracle if you ask me. But this small moment from over a decade ago, somehow has turned into how I handle any situation in my life. I always go to a bathroom, lock the door, and cry.

Is that ridiculous? Well, not just ridiculous, but totally gross and unsanitary. Yet, for some reason, it's just what I do. I've done it at home, at work, even in public places. If I'm overwhelmed, if I'm sad, if I'm hurt, if I'm frustrated...you'll probably find me in the bathroom, laying on the floor and crying.

And the truth is, I am a happy girl. I am a positive girl, I've always been an overly-optimistic dreamer. But sometimes, when I'm laying on a bathroom floor, staring at the ceiling and thinking about this craziness called life, I find clarity. I find that after I cry it out a bit, everything somehow goes back to being okay. I can walk out of that bathroom and face the world with a little more strength. Maybe it's a reminder of what I made it through at such a young age. Or maybe it's just letting out some of the time bomb inside of me, the one that becomes such a burden when I hold it inside.

Either way, this flaw of mine needs to be repaired. I need to learn to talk. Well wait, I'm already an expert at talking! I just need to talk about...about the stuff that I don't talk about. And anyway, do you think it would turn into a flaw if I talked to much about my feelings?? I'll try to find the line between the two...

Well really, none of this makes sense to you but it does to me. And one day, when I go back and read this, I will smile. I'll smile because at this point, when future me reads this, I will be the girl that can talk about my feelings. That can talk about the serious issues. That can talk freely, and never carries around ticking time bombs to weigh her down.

Blog therapy guys. That's what this is called. For those of us who are too cheap for the real thing! And really, I'm pretty sure this works just as well.

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