While I am writing this, it is not only pouring down rain, it is storming. I mean a full-on thunder, lightening, dark grey sky sort of storm. I should be happily cuddled up watching Harry Potter (I don’t care how many times I watch those movies, whenever the weather turns stormy, it’s like the first time all over again). Instead, I am staring at the computer, which never makes me happy or grateful. I am reading horrible drama-filled posts on Baby Center (Yes, I know. I should get a life. Thank you.), playing Candy Crush and once again, eating cheese in my pajamas. Seriously, do I have a protein deficiency or something (or is cheese just awesome – note to self: I am very grateful for cheese)??
I don’t know why I’ve been so negative lately. My husband took me out to dinner on Saturday for my birthday (his sister is visiting and stayed home to watch the wild one, who was a very good boy) and instead of being grateful (Damn it! Missed opportunity!), we got in an argument on the way home which basically boils down to me feeling angry at him and down on myself but most of all, confused and overwhelmed. I’m overwhelmed by my sadness and negativity, if that makes sense. I’m overwhelmed at the amount of things there are to do and overwhelmed by how difficult even the simplest thing is because we don’t speak the language of the country in which we live. I’m confused about whether or not my husband is being a jerk or I’m just being über sensitive.
It seems that not a day goes by without some little argument with him. Are they serious? Not really. But are they troubling? Yes. I told him on Saturday that I was thinking about counseling. Of course, he thinks that is something that the Americans invented just to be more self-involved nancies.
I am worried, though, because the last time I felt angry like this was because I was severely depressed. We lived in Barcelona and I wanted to leave. I was done with it there, I wanted to be home with my family and friends and I couldn’t because I didn’t want to leave this man that I was dating. I loved him and wanted to give us a chance. I’m very grateful that I did, because now we are married with an amazing little boy. However, we didn’t move home. We moved to Germany. And here I am again, three years later, desperately wanting to be home with my family and friends.
We are in the process of finding out what it takes to get us home (well, to my home) – but of course moving countries without a job and a plan in place at the other end is stupid, so it is going to take some time. But in the meantime, how do I deal with this huge amount of negativity that is just crushing me? How do I hold on for another year?
I just saw this on Facebook (I know, I know… Why even go on Facebook anymore?) and my first thought, as it always is, was: “Don’t tell me what to do!” After I laughed at myself, as I always do, however, I got angry. I am so sick and tired of all of these pithy posts about the wonders of being grateful and positive. Because you know what? If I talked about my blessings more than my problems, I would probably already be one of those shiny happy, joy-filled hippies who goes around giving out free hugs. But I’m not. I’m far too negative and therefore, I need to do something drastic like create a blog that sort of loosely forces me to talk about my blessings.
Is it a good idea? Of course. Does it make sense? Of course. Do I need Facebook to remind me that I suck at it? No. Especially when that reminder comes in the form of Jim (sans Huck) on the raft playing with doves. Seriously; WTF?
My real problem, of course, is that it’s perfectly sound advice that I should follow. Particularly fitting is that I just spent an hour on the phone with my mom, complaining about my problems. It should be noted also that I did this whilst the cleaning lady I just hired cleaned my whole house and my husband and sister-in-law took my son to the zoo. Oy vey.
The thing is that these sort of simple one-liners make it sound so easy. Oh, right. If I just focused on my blessings… I hadn’t realized that focusing on my problems made things worse. Well, duh. Of course I realized that. Everyone realizes that, don’t they? What I need is a step-by-step method of actuating it, not a one-liner that I can just like on Facebook to seem wise to all my friends and acquaintances (or to annoy them, as is probably more accurately the case).
Hmm… buy a self help book, you say, rather than sitting around in my pajamas eating cheese, watching Master Chef and tooling around on Facebook? Do you have a step-by-step method of actuating that? If not, probably not going to happen…
I have been trying to find a journaling/blogging/writing style that will result in my being: A, an excellent (and quite possibly published) author and B, a happy, successful and, while we’re at it, thin individual. As you will note, this is my first post on this blog (that I started months ago). So far? Not published. Not successful. Not thin. Sigh.
In 2011, I tried listing three things I was grateful for every day, in the hopes that I would magically turn into one of those people who wakes up every morning beaming sunshine instead of wanting to punch my morning-person husband in the face. I think I made it about 66 days or so, which is pretty damn good, in my opinion. I still, however, want to punch my husband in the face in the mornings (or more so now, my 1 year old child – which I’ve heard is an even bigger no-no). I also noticed a pattern; A slightly disturbing one, if I’m being honest. I would say, generously speaking, at least 60% of the things I was grateful for were food or food related. hmm… Not really helpful for that whole “thin” thing, for starters.
Now, was I grateful in the “Thank you, Lord for this food which nourishes my body and gives me energy to take on my day with zest and joyful intention”? No. It was more like “Yay, pizza!”. Don’t get me wrong. I love me some pizza and am truly grateful for the Domino’s man that brings it to me on Pizza Fridays (Yeah, that’s how we roll around here). But there’s something seriously wrong when your husband takes you on a weekend trip to the glorious city of Milan to see the spectacular Tori Amos in concert and all you can write about is the freakin pasta (mmmm…. pasta).
So, what’s my problem? Well, my issue with the Milan trip is that I was 2 months pregnant and terribly nauseated the entire time (and let me tell you, that bus ride from the Milan airport into the city center is NOTHING to be grateful for). My issue currently is that I live in a country where I don’t have many friends, I don’t speak the language and it rains. A lot. My “bigger picture” issue is that I have battled depression and anxiety for most of my life. (And, after all, what’s the best way to deal with a social anxiety disorder? Why, move to a country where you know no one, don’t speak the language and have to deal with new and horrible situations every day. In the rain. Of course. SMH.)
Am I here, then, in this blog, going to try to rectify all that by again trying to make grandios declarations of my gratitude for all to bask in how wonderful I’ve dealt with this ridiculous situation I’ve put myself in? No. Here, I am going to be real (finally). Sans “shoulds” and “should nots”. I’m going to acknowledge the striving towards true gratitude I have always had, but I’m also going to allow for the rainy days, even if they come weeks in a row (which they do – seriously, this country sucks).
I am also NOT going to feel bad for being extremely happy and grateful about pizza.