You guys.
Man.
I’m a bloggy failure mess. I am not the boss of this blog. I can’t seem to write shit, and blah blah this has happened before, but never for this long.
It’s scary, to be honest.
I’m in a not-so-great place, to be honest.
Even things that had been going well are not going well. Wednesday, at the gym, my buddy Chad came by to give me a fist bump after the workout. “You crushed that WOD, Amy Scott,” he said.
I responded that I less “crushed it”, and more just “laid a hand on it and half-heartedly pushed down”… And actually, now that I thought about it, I less “pressed on it”, and more just “gave it the finger from a distance”. And it was true. I did pretty much two reps at a time of everything. I was tired and grumpy, and my plantar fasciitis was raging. My right heel felt like somebody’s heavy came after it with a baseball bat and my calf like it was one pace away from charley horsing.
When I said I was grumpy, Chad said, “Well, it was a grumpy WOD.” It was. It was a grumpy fucking WOD (20-minute AMRAP—what the shit?), but sometimes those are the best because you come off them feeling like you’re the boss of it. This one… It was the boss of me.
Also, yesterday as I was walking the dogs, I was reminded of that scene in the movie Parenthood when Steve Martin’s character wonders whether they should have the kid Mary Steenburgen’s character is pregnant with, and she says something like, “I’m not even sure we should keep the two we’ve got.” ‘Nita‘s adorable and I love her, but she’s a psycho around things with wheels, which makes our walks a teensy bit stressful. So what does my brain do? My brain tells me I shouldn’t even have dogs. My brain is the boss of me. The terrible, terrible boss of me.
Then my brain thinks this—no kidding, no edits—it thinks:
Everything’s overwhelming, and nothing’s good.
How’s that for some hyperbole? But, seriously, in that moment, it felt true. For all the above reasons.
Plus, and I’ve mentioned this before, I’m seriously considering single motherhood. To the point that I’ve done some legitimate research on the topic.
And it’s cool and exciting and scary and all that, but mostly it highlights the fact that all this would be physically, emotionally, financially, and in all other ways easier with a mate, and I cannot fucking find a mate to save my fucking life.
And now it feels like I’m throwing myself a pity party, and I hate that.
I’m not being the boss of me. And I hate that.
There. I wrote something. It was terrible. I hate that.
**********
Three years ago, GAH, I HAD A BOYFRIEND. <whimper>
Two years ago, someone swam a river to meet me. QUIT RUBBING IT IN, ARCHIVES.
…Maybe I should quit my bitching and get back into the online dating scene, like I was a year ago. Wait.
Hi. You don’t know me, but I feel like I know you from reading this blog. Sometimes I feel like that too. I think everybody does. It’s ok. I’m just glad I’m not the only one. It always gets better somehow. So don’t worry too much about it. You are awesome, amazing, and beautiful even if you don’t realize it right now. Everyone else knows it.
Dorothy. You don’t know me, but I feel like you are everything you said about the Bruxist. And you’re right on every point.
love.
Love you Amy! Let’s hang out without walking the dogs soon! :)
Thanks for the support and love.
I read your blog post and then I read this Geneen post and I thought the two should meet. Love you, Ame.
(From Geneen’s Facebook page . . . )
Geneen Roth
February 25
I heard this from Rick Hanson, author of Buddha’s Brain (I love that book): each morning, do what he calls a “flight check”: remember that 1. You Are Safe. You are not getting bombed, invaded, destroyed. You really are safe, in this moment, now. Number 2. You have Enough. Enough food, enough clothes, enough warmth. And the last one: 3. You are Loved. By a cat or a dog. By your child. By your friend. By your spouse. You are loved and you have love in your life. We usually are reacting unconsciously to old patterns, many of which were about safety, enoughness, and love. We act as if we don’t have them, when, if you check in to the present, we realize we do. And then, it gives us a ground upon which the rest of the day can proceed with a different kind of knowing and relaxation. Try it now. Say those things to yourself. Take them in.