Atelophobia: The Fear of Not Being Good Enough

Now that I've unlocked Pandora's Box of emotion, I'm not 100 percent on how to blog about it. These posts might follow a basic outline and they might not. I'm really not sure. Enough about logistics- let's get to the point.

While I'm still tearing down walls, this week I have felt frustration, anger, and fear. (I truly believe that the hardest emotion I will have to achieve and adopt will be "happiness and joy." The idea of just being predominately happy seems so weak in my mind. I haven't sorted all that out yet. I will some other day. Let's make that the end goal.)

This week (and all my life, actually) I've been haunted by the pressure of PERFECTIONISM. In my efforts to be "perfect" I have freely let my frustration and anger fly. This week I did not try to suppress my outrage or shut down- I just simply let it happen.

My name is Audrey and I am a recovering perfectionist. I stress and I stress. When the dogs can't grasp house-breaking I feel like a total failure. When the dishes have been in the sink for 2 days I feel like a total failure. When there is a load of laundry ready to be washed and I don't get myself into the basement to do it I feel like a total failure. Sames goes for the gifts not purchased for Xmas, the spare room that's not painted, the empty fridge, and every other thing that I just can't seem to master.

I know that I'm not the only person that puts these pressures on myself. I've also come to realize that my lofty goal of "perfection" is to mask the truth: I'm secretly not perfect. No one is. That's totally ok.

I have fallen victim to peer pressure and Pinterest Depression: I see other wives/moms/20-year-olds do it perfectly and blog about it. I think, 'Well why can't I master that? Why don't I have 3 laundry baskets stacked perfectly in my basement or a whole closet dedicated to wrapping paper and bows?'

The answer I've been giving myself has been: "Because you're a failure and you'll never be the perfect female/wife."

The real answer is: "Because I am a messy new wife with 2 messy dogs and an equally messy husband. We are adjusting to living with one another and we both work 40 hours a week (or more in his case). Sometimes dinner is steak and sometimes it's Mac & Cheese. Sometimes all the laundry gets done and sometimes Kyle only has one pair of work pants for the week. Sometimes he vacuums and sometimes I vacuum and sometimes no one vacuums. Enzo occasionally pees on the floor, Lylee has tracked poop in on her paws, and sometimes life's dirt gathers in the corners. It gets cleaned up. We don't live in a pigs sty, but we don't live in a white-wall mansion. And you know why? Because I'm not perfect."

I'm not perfect. I'm not perfect. I will never be perfect. No one is. Not even Cassie the Crafty Crone on Pinterest. No one.

I'm allowed to be frustrated with the dogs. I'm allowed to sigh at the number on the scale. I'm allowed to be happy when I successful get only half the laundry done. I'm allowed to celebrate a stocked fridge. Those are life's "perfect moments" and I have spent my (teenage) life overlooking them, trying to fix the big picture.

It's ok to set goals. It's ok to want to be organized. It's ok to get frustrated. It's NOT ok to put immense pressure on myself like I've been doing the last 13 years.

No more emotional walls. No more perfectionist labels. Everything will get done in time and I'm going to laugh, cry, and celebrate along the way.

New Year. New Resolutions. New Thought Process.

For as long as I can remember I have had a very negative thought process and outlook. I considered myself happy, for the most part, but I harbored unnecessary anger, jealously, paranoia, and even hate. I am admittedly sarcastic and cynical- I was raised this way (and by no means do I blame or fault my upbringing). During middle school, high school, and college this attitude worked for me. I was tough and I built walls. I didn't confide in my parents, I didn't accept hugs or other forms of emotional affection, I was picky about my friends (and judgmental of them and everyone else), and I rarely complimented others. I had the ability to behave very coldly and I couldn't (can't?) take a compliment- I would respond with sarcasm and self-doubt. After re-reading that paragraph, I sound like I was a miserable person.

I built this spiky, emotion-barricade out of one fear: Fear that I cannot control my emotions and behaviors if I let them react naturally. I am afraid that I will come off as weak if I allow myself to cry. I am afraid that I will make someone uncomfortable (and myself) if I shower them with the affection they deserve. I am afraid that by allowing myself to feel happy, I will miss out on opportunities that I would have taken if I'd have stay discontent and alert.

I cannot fault my upbringing solely. (We didn't cuddle or say "I love you" constantly or shower one another with praise in my house- that's how we like it. I was and am SO loved and appreciated by my family, but we aren't the expressive kind.) Secretly, a large part of my emotional shutdown is to block the onset of depression. I have the uncanny ability to crawl into my emotion-barricade and shutdown the pain/happiness/anger that I'm feeling. It sounds wonderful, but it actually just results in me feeling nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's very limiting and, in my opinion, unhealthy. I miss out on emotional experiences.

Kyle and I have been working on my behavior. He knows how I struggle with "being nice" and he often gives me a gentle reminder to relax when I start to built up my sharp outward appearance. He gets "stabbed" a lot in the process and I'm so grateful to have such a patient (yet stern, lol) advocate. Because of his faith in me, as well as my yearning and motivation to better myself, I am taking 2014 to relax, reconnect, and react.

Through self-monitoring and -evaluation, as well as seeking help, solace, and gratitude through and to God, I want to make myself "open." I want to feel happy and content without feeling stuck. I want to feel sad, knowing that tomorrow is another day and I will feel better again soon. I want to express patience with our puppy, forgiveness to others, and understanding of differences. The only emotions that ever seemed to slip through my brick wall were anxiety and passion. Perhaps by recognizing and accepting them, I can also learn to control and channel them appropriately.

I know that's a lot of self-reflection and personal information, but there's a purpose for sharing it in my blog. I am inspired by a Facebook friend that I met in college. She is looking at emotions based on Jesus' teachings and behavior. I'm going to branch off that and evaluate my resistance and struggles with emotions while making the conscious effort to change my reactions to them. I hope all of that made sense. If so, stick around for future 2014 posts about specific emotions and coping. If this sounded like a waste of time and stupid, ignore my blog for the next few months.

I do better when I write. I like to scribble lists, thoughts, emotions, etc. By writing these thoughts in my blog, I'm already tearing down a wall and letting people in. I'm not showing off. I'm not divulging my deepest secrets. I'm sharing my already-public thoughts and behaviors. It will help me and maybe it will help someone else.

Cry It Out

Sometimes Life punches you really hard in the stomach. The blow doesn't break any ribs but it definitely takes your breath away and leaves you standing there in pain. The only thing you can really do is cry and wait for the pain to subside. It doesn't seem like things can get any worse.

November is the month of thankfulness. All over Facebook, Pinterest, blogs, schools, and stores people are listing what they're thankful for and why. It makes it hard to be bitter and pitiful. Then again, Life isn't particular about when it punches. It doesn't avoid the holidays- I actually think it prefers them.

When something bad happens to me, I try very hard to laugh it off. We're on Earth for a short time and there's no reason to get upset over trivial, material problems. When a loved one is sick or injured I obviously have a different approach, but when it comes to "first world problems" I think it's best to dismiss them and work them out with a positive, easy-going approach.

Sometime, though, Life punches your more than once. It hits 2 or 3 times and there's nothing you can do about it- your hands are tied and you just have to take it. On the rare occasions that this occurs, the "positive, easy-going approach" just kind of crumbs and tears take over. The "why me?" and "this isn't fair" starts to form and escape from my lips. There's no outlet to exhaust or comfort to be had- all I want to do is whine about my problems and cry. Today- November 26th- it seems like all the fit is hitting the shan.

I've already cried. Now I want to curl up on the couch and never move. (Of course, I'll freeze to death since my furnace is dead.) When I have hurdles I mentally put them in the form of a To-Do List. As they're resolved, my brain checks them off, one by one. When the list grows and nothing gets checked off, I become extremely overwhelmed. Today is that day. When you throw money and expenses into the mix, my brain turns into a war zone. Welcome to the war zone, people.

I wish I could schedule home-ownership problems, legal issues, and medical emergency into my planner. If I HAVE to deal with them, it'd be nice to space them out. Obviously I can't do this. No one can. While I want to sit here and count my hardships, I know it's more beneficial to count my blessings. All I want for Christmas is some check marks on my mental list, preferably before I go mental myself.

Maybe I'm just uptight...

Yesterday one of my best friends called me a "feminist." I don't know whether I disagree with him or not, but this isn't the first time I've been struck with that label. I certainly consider myself an activist- but mainly for those that can't speak for themselves and walk on four legs. Perhaps being an outspoken, strong-willed, morally-grounded (in my opinion) female makes me a feminist. Or the following paragraphs probably make me a feminist....

I don't have a conversation with this post because I don't use this word recreationally.

It drives me crazy when women refer to their female friends as "bitches." What's sad is that I know I did in it high school and parts of college. Now I can't stand it.

BITCH: noun  \bich\ (Merriam-Webster)

1

:  the female of the dog or some other carnivorous mammals

2

a :  a lewd or immoral woman

b :  a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman —sometimes used as a generalized term of abuse

3

:  something that is extremely difficult, objectionable, or unpleasant

4

:  complaint 

So here we see that (as of now) the idea of "bitch" is not a good thing. When women call one another "bitch", it makes men think it's ok. (I hate to throw out a double standard, but it's absolutely not ok for men to casually say it about a women [or aggressively, really].) Robin Thicke, Kanye West, and California Swag District PREFER the term over "lady" or "woman." Lovely. 

I know I sound super uptight, but if I heard my future-daughter refer to her friends as "my bitches" I would smack the word right out of her mouth. (I don't even KNOW what I'd do to a son that felt "bitch" was an appropriate pet name.) There are so many other options. Why do we degrade ourselves to the word "bitch"? (Or "whore", "ho", "skank", "slut.") I've used these- my friends have used these- but upon self reflection, I'm making the conscious decision to cut them out of my vocabulary. It's juvenile and petty to speak like this and I'd like to hold myself  to a higher standard. 

Side note: If there IS, in fact, a girl being a horrible, awful, disgusting, hurtful, vicious, hateful person, I reserve the right to use the word as it was meant to be used...

Explict Content

I'm going to climb up on this soapbox here and make myself comfortable for the next few minutes.

If I had a child or if my little cousins were in my car with me, I would be borderline terrified to turn on the radio. First of all, apparently it's ok to say ass, bitch, whore, dick, and other offensive things on the air. (No George Carlin jokes, please.) I don't use this language on social media and I would NEVER use it at work, but apparently disc jockeys are allowed. (To clarify: I have friends on the radio. I'm specifically talking about the crude, rude, icky DJs that SOME stations employ for shock-factor.)

Reason number two why I wouldn't turn on the radio: So many songs on the air are SO offensive and dirty. This brings me to the whole reason I write today...
Here are a list of songs on the radio that I consider offensive, as well as their most disgusting line(s).

WE CAN'T STOP- Hannah Mon-  er, Miley Cyrus. My bad.
"To my home girls here with the big butt
Shaking it like we at a strip club
Remember only God can judge ya
Forget the haters 'cause somebody loves ya"
also
"We like to party
Dancing with Molly*
Doing whatever we want "
Miley, ANYONE can judge you. And they do. *You're also singing about ecstasy.


The Luke Bryan Sexist-Pig Show:
COUNTRY GIRL (SHAKE IT FOR ME)
"All I wanna do is get to holdin' you and get to knowin' you
And get to showin' you and get to lovin' you 'fore the night is through
Baby you know what to do"
Shake your butt for me and everyone else around. Then we have sex.

 KISS TOMORROW GOODBYE
 "Ain’t gonna beg you to stay
Ain’t gotta ask you what’s wrong
Ain’t no reason running after something already gone
Take off your leavin' dress
Let’s do what we do best"
Let's have meaningless sex since we're going to break up anyway.

THAT'S MY KIND OF NIGHT
"All them other boys wanna wind you up and take you downtown
But you look like the kind that likes to take it way out"
and
"Gonna sound like a winner, when I lay you down and love you right
Yeah, that’s my kind of night!"
Essentially, you're a county whore- not a clubbing whore- let's have sex.

Conclusion: NO, Luke Bryan. I DO NOT want to have sex with you.



HOLY GRAIL- Jay-Z
"F**k the fame, keep cheating on me
What I do, I took her back, fool me twice
That's my bad, I can't even blame her for that
Enough to make me wanna murder
Momma please just get my bail
I know nobody to blame
Kurt Cobain, I did it to myself"
Seeing as n*gger and f**k are the words of choice in this song, I'd say it probably shouldn't be on the radio. Props to Jay-Z, though.



THE WAY- Ariana Grande
"You’re a princess to the public, but a freak when it’s time
Said your bed be feeling lonely,
So you’re sleeping in mine.
Come here,

Watch a movie with me,
“American Beauty” or “Bruce Almighty” that's groovy,
Just come and move closer to me
I got some feelings for you,
I’m not gonna get bored of
But baby you’re an adventure
So please let me come explore you"

This isn't the worst on the radio, but like Miley Cy, Grande is a child star. I hope her pre-teen fans don't want to own her album. 

BLURRED LINES- Robin Thicke
"Let me be the one you back that a** to
Go, from Malibu, to Paris, boo
Yeah, I had a b*tch, but she ain't bad as you
So hit me up when you passing through
I'll give you something big enough to tear your a** in two."
Actually, the whole stupid song is stupid offensive. I wonder how Kidz Bop is going to edit this one...



GORILLA- Bruno Mars
I do not feel comfortable posting lyrics to this little guy...
I really like Mr. Mars and it's ok if he has this on his CD, but this is NOT an appropriate radio single. Just sayin'...





So what's OK to listen to? Here's my list of songs/artists that aren't sex/drug/alcohol obsessed:

1. ROAR- Katy Perry
2. BRAVE- Sara Bareilles (anything she does is awesome)
3. Paramore is usually pretty safe
4. It kills me to say it, but Taylor Swift has kept her nose (and lyrics) pretty clean
5. Mirrors- Justin Timberlake
6. I'm sure there are more, but I'm done listing them

Stepping off the soapbox now. Thanks.

We're different and it's OK

Kyle and I have almost hit 5 months of marriage (this Friday marks the day). I have to say, marriage has been my favorite life-step thus far (verses birth, high school, driving, voting, college, drinking, etc). Marriage has also been challenging; many guests at the wedding warned us that our first year would be the toughest (others argued that out first year as parents would be the most telling/challenging).

I think the biggest challenge of marriage is the pressure that society puts on us. By more than one person in more than one situation, Kyle and I have been made to feel like we're doing it "wrong." People comment on how friendly we are- we rarely engage in any sort of P.D.A. Some people note how we go places without each other- I spend the night out of town with friends every month or two. Often times Kyle is out late working at the garage and I'm home alone or spending time with my mom or friends- we're rarely together all evening at home. Also- uncommon in little towns like ours- Kyle and I are married twenty-something-year-olds that have NO plans to birth children in the next few years. Yes we got married, yes we bought a house- none of this was in preparation for babies.

This judgement (for lack of a better word) has made me extremely self-conscious. It's planted doubt in my mind and caused fighting between Kyle and me. I feel a pressure to be the "perfect newlyweds" and every time I see another couple behave like the status quo, I feel slighted by my imperfect union. I lust after the perfect relationship and fear failure in the matrimony that we've created. I feel judged.

Now, I'm being slightly dramatic. I LOVE Kyle with my entire heart. I would marry that guy again and again. He's my man crush, better half, "best friend", and soul mate. For realz. Unfortunately, I have been putting this "perfect pressure" on our marriage these last few months. Tonight, in this moment, as Kyle snores (well, more like heavy breathing) next to me, I swear I'm done being dumb.

Kyle and I are different from other couples and THAT'S OK. In fact, every couple is different from one another. There is NO perfect marriage. Just think, if we all had to follow the exact same marriage guidelines and rules, we'd all be divorced. Kyle and I are independent. We started a business and that demands time. We have young friends that AREN'T married and we refuse to exclusively join the married-couple-club. Our life is awesome. Kids are fun, but Lylee's better (for us, anyway). I wish I'd have figured this out 5 months ago, but marriage is all about changing and learning. It seems to me that we're doing it right. I'm done feeling pressure and I'm done passing judgement on myself- I'm happy and that's what matters. I'm going to sit back, relax, and enjoy my hilarious, sarcastic, independent, handsome, dog-loving husband :)

Why it's important to stop.

I'm going to steal the conversation that I just posted on Facebook for the sake of this blog.

A conversation that occurred just moments ago...
Kyle (my hubberz) :: Audrey (me, the wifey)
[To set the scene: I'm laying across the bed, not the right direction.]
Kyle: Can you go away so I can go to bed?!
Audrey: What the heck! You always whine about going to bed when I'm NOT home because you want me to be here!
K: Maybe it's because I don't want you to be out. Who knows if you're yelling at the neighbors about how they treat their dog, or driving like a crazy person, or stopping to pick up a kitten that turns out to be a rapist!
A: ........your logic is flawed.
K: It's perfectly conceivable.

** Warning: This post is going to mention God. (So it's obvi gonna be a good one.) **

I was driving home this evening, flying down the hill near my parents, when I saw a small, round object on the road. Thinking it trash or even a dead animal, I made the attempt to straddle it with my car and carry on. Unlike trash or a dead animal, in the rear view mirror I saw the object flutter up and then back down into the center of the road. Of course I pulled over and flashed on my hazards.

Luckily, this road is not a busy one, so I was able to casually walk up to the object. The once-fluttering, now-stunned object was a young, if not baby, bird. Its mother was sitting in a near-by bush (I could hear her chirping frantically), unable to help. From the looks of the little guy, I assumed something was broken- maybe a wing? a leg? certainly not his neck or he wouldn't be chirping at an impressively consistent tempo.

I pulled my sleeve over my hand (just in case he felt inclined to bite), and scoop the baby up. He didn't bite, or fuss, or do anything really, except settle down into my hand. He hung out there for a while until I noticed he was using both of his legs. Recalling the knowledge I had long ago when I owned a parakeet (Noel- rest in peace), I pushed my finger against the chick's chest and he reluctantly stepped on. Success! His leg was not broken!

Balance only occurred for a moment before he fell off and tumbled the tiny distance from my finger to my lap. In the fall, he fluttered both wings- no broken bones there! He'd perked up over time, too. I concluded that the little guy was stunned, probably because of the cars constantly straddling his fragile little figure. I placed him on the side of the road, in the grass near his mother's chirps, and left him there for nature to reunite him with mom and take its course.

...

This is the second bird rescue I've made this summer- both critters just seemed stunned and unable to move from the road. I tend to think this is God helping me heal from a traumatic animal-road-incident that happened earlier this summer. Of course, 94% of the world asks, "Why do you bother stopping?"

If you know me.... AT ALL.... you know why I bother stopping. I stop because it's important. I stop because that animal, struggling in the middle or on the side or in the field, is alive and scared and in need of help. Not all animals want help- I know that I can't help all of them. This is where my faith comes in.

I can only stop and offer my hands or my warmth or a home for the night. God can lead that animal to me and help me make the rescue. God can reunite baby bird with mama bird after I've helped her out of harms way. God can also send the animal away from me, letting me know that nature is taking her course and the animal is not meant for me. I invest a lot of my faith in my passion for animals and their treatment and well being.

I'm not saying everyone should stop (and I also recognize that a lot of people DO stop). Not everyone knows what to do with abandoned or scared animals. I don't always know. I've also heard about dogs and cats being tied up on the side of the road to lure kindhearted people into stopping. As always, be aware of your surroundings and be safe.

The moral of today's story is if you can stop and it's a safe place and you know you might do some good, stop. If ever you need help with a rescue, CALL ME. People always talk about wanting to make a difference in the life of another. "Another" doesn't always mean human- in my case, "another" has fur, feathers, or scales.

Stuck Vs. Settled

A few months ago I was complaining about feel stuck. I felt stuck in a mood, stuck in a job, stuck in discontentment. During the last month, these feelings have faded and I've started to feel progressive and positive about everything! New job, newly married, and diving head-first into this new life. Unfortunately, this buzz was killed when I ran into an old "friend" from high school.
During a candid, random discussion, this person told my best friend and me about how he despised our hometown and hated the idea of settling down, getting married, and staying in such a stale, lifeless area. He went on to say how the majority of his (worthless) high school pals have stay around here and "done nothing" with their lives. He sure does make this place sound ideal, eh?

Moments after he finished his rant, another (better) friend sat down.
Other friend (had been at the wedding):: Me (sitting there quietly)
Other friend: Hey guys!
Me (us): Hey, Xxxxx!
Other Friend: Audrey! How's married life?
*high school "friend" goes pale and tries to regain his "cool composure"....*

I'm sure this high school friend knew that I'd gotten married recently, but he certainly didn't have it in mind as he was describing and beating down MY life. For the next few hours or so I began to feel...bad... about my life and decisions I'd made. I thought about some of my friends that spent their college weekends going out and getting to know the whole campus or the friends that were jumping right back into grad school and moving out of town for another 2 or 3 years. I wondered what life would be like if I hadn't found the right guy at age 16 and, instead, I flirted and dated my way through college and my 20's.

Then I stopped thinking like this. I believe that it's important to realize that EVERYONE has a different path to take. I certainly would NOT have enjoyed partying every weekend or living on a campus with 50,000+ students. I like the countryside. I love my husband. When I look in the mirror I see a (relatively) level-headed, small-town college graduate with a wonderful, successful husband and a slow-yet-exciting life. I don't see a crazy, outgoing, it-girl bound for the West Coast... but I don't want to be that girl.

I want to go to graduate school and I want to travel the country and the world and I want to live right here and be settled and always have my hometown (that I do NOT despise) to come back to at the end of a trip. I'm not pathetic or lazy or unambitious in the least. I like me.

Now, I don't want to put anyone else or their lifestyle down, but after ragging on our small town this "friend" went on to say how he's only here until he finds a job elsewhere. Why doesn't he have a job? Well, he decided he worked hard in college and he spent his last 2 weeks drinking every night instead of filling out applications and interviewing. Um....ok.... In hindsight, I have it better :) I got through college and made it out early, then got myself a full-time job before moving into a BETTER, more enjoyable full-time job. As for being stuck in this town, I lived in India for a month. It doesn't get much more adventurous.

The moral to the story is to each his own, but I think the subtle moral is don't let others bully you into someone you're not. You're you and it took a long time to become that person- don't change because someone else doesn't quite understand how great it is to be you. Work hard, appreciate every moment, and be proud of yourself every now and again :)

Because the glass ceiling is getting dusty...

In my family the men and women graciously accept their roles in the home and everything is hunky-dory. The women generally make the meals and clean up the kitchen post-meal. The men take care of mowing, automobile work, and any heavy lifting or building that needs done. On most occasions, I watch my father come home from a long day at work (5am to 5pm), sit down with the paper, and grumble until Mom has dinner made and the table set. (Mom, of course, only got up at 4:30am to make Dad's meal, laid back down, got up again at 7am to get dressed, let the dogs out, and leave for work- which only lasted from 8am to 4pm.)

When I am home with the family, my mom often asks me to help set the table or prepare a side dish, all while my husband/brother/other male in the room sits and watches television or reads a magazine. I- being the total a**hole that I am- usually throw a fit and ask (loudly) why the 2, 3, or 4 males in the room aren't being asked to help. I never really get an answer. This is just an example; I have plenty more.

Set the scene: It's after Fred's birthday and he's just received cigars that he plans to smoke with Dad and friends. I feel slighted and ask why I can't join in. They explain that I am a girl.
Mother (my mom) :: Audrey (me)
Audrey: (Yelling upstairs to my mother) Hey Mom! Wanna grab a beer and smokes some cigars together?
Mother: (No hesitation whatsoever) No dear, I have school in the morning.

Am I really that mad about having to set the table? No, not at all. What makes my blood boil is the fact that the men are not asked to set the table. If this was 1965 and my mom stayed at home all day curling her hair then OF COURSE she should probably have dinner ready. But it's 2013, my mom works a full time job, she has a husband and son, and I refuse to believe that they deserve to just "chill" while the (ALL READY WORKING) women works.

Call me crazy, but when I have children, they're going to learn it all. My son(s) will know how to set a table and my daughter(s) will be able to change oil. I can't change oil or mow a lawn, but I see the fault in that. I cook dinner for Kyle and I do the laundry, but there's NO reason he can't help with the dishes or put his clothes away. And he does.