Time Flies By…

Hellloooo! Man, if I can’t manage to finish and post this blog, then I give up. I have been trying for what seems like a very long time to blog about SOMETHING…but for one reason or another, I either couldn’t finish it, and/or decided not to publicize my most private goings-on. I’m fairly certain my life is pretty averagely dysfunctional, but it really makes me wonder about the secrets within families and between people who are closely bound in ANY kind of relationship. I used to talk about everything with anyone, and I still do talk very openly about a lot of stuff-most stuff, even. But time and experience taught me (the slow and painful way, naturally) that some things are not open for discussion. If you discuss something, you are inviting the opinion, advice and judgement of the person you are confiding in, and you just never know who you can really trust 100%. I used to have the biggest mouth in the entire world- I didn’t mean to, and when I said I promised not to tell, I meant it. But even when I tried my hardest, I’d let some small detail slip, and then get so nervous trying to backtrack that eventually, I’d just miserably repeat the gossip, verbatim. Now, I’m older, and not only do I have more self control than I once did, but I also don’t care nearly as much about other peoples issues. That sounds mean, but it’s at least a good indicator that I’m trustworthy. By the time you finish telling me your secret, I’ve already forgotten the first part. Also, if someone wants to know something I don’t want to tell, I just say “yes, I know, but I’m not telling you, so quit fucking bugging me.” which was hard for me in decades past. Ahh…the finer points of growing up.

Speaking of which, my birthday is just a few days off- I am blown away that I am turning 37. Not because I feel like I am old, really, but because I can’t believe how insanely fast my life is going by. It feels like as soon as I get used to being who I am, where I’m at, everything changes again…I honestly remember the day that I turned ten years old so clearly; I was, what? Fourth grade? I sat at the very top of the monkey bars and contemplated the fact that I was now a DECADE old. From here on out, my age would have TWO numbers in it. I literally thought about that, twenty seven years ago, in Fresno, California, at Del Mar Elementary school. That same little girl is still right here, as well as the chubby middle school kid, the mouthy teenager who thought she knew it all. That teenager succumbed to a lifestyle that took her away from dreams she never even had a chance to start dreaming, and that teenager gave way to a young woman who was beautiful and insecure and sick, funny, weak, smart and unkind. Lots and lots of things occurred, lots of time went by, and she didn’t go very far. That same, scared, defeated girl is still here, too. I have been so many different women in my lifetime…life is not perfect, but at least today I am not afraid. I am not terrified of tomorrow. I don’t have to rely on anyone else for my life to move forward. Sometimes I forget the difference between FEELING AS IF my life depends on someone else, and HAVING my life rely on someone else. I’m okay with the person I am today. I turned out all right after all!

There were some blissful times in my life where I really kind of had it all…well, not “all” in the sense of tangible, luxurious things. I had none of that. What I actually had was NOTHING. No rush, no worries, no responsibilities, no place I needed to be. I just did my thing, all the time, partying, up for nights in a row, staying wherever I wound up and never feeling like I had anything less than all the time in the world to get down to business.  I dragged that stage out quite a while past where it was appropriate, and it wasn’t the same anymore. I felt time going by, felt the need to be more, have more, see more than I was seeing from that place. So I moved along, finally, and started filling up my life with grown up things. I enjoyed, and still enjoy, the sense of achievement that comes with accomplishing a dream, however small. What I don’t like is the worry and problems that come attached to everything I love or want or value. I worry about my kids, my job, my relationships with people. I worry about money and bills, my car, my phone and my laptop. I worry about my teenager not fitting in, and then about her fitting in too well. I worry about things that happened a long time ago, and things that may very well never happen. I NEVER used to worry about stuff, and now it’s always happening, like background music…I’m humming along, not even aware of the song. Also, I feel stretched a little thin, a lot of the time. These are the things I don’t love about this phase of my life. I want to be calm enough to enjoy all the good stuff that is right in front of me, but there’s so much to do, and so many things going on, and I get that tight, tense, angry feeling…like one little minuscule thing, and I’m going to snap. I don’t like all the chores and rules and activity of being this kind of adult. I feel like I still haven’t quite caught on yet.

Every year, around my birthday, I sort of look at my life and see what’s what, and come up with an idea of where I’d like to go next. Things I’d like to work on, eliminate, think about, and so on. This year, I just want to cut the shit. I want to stop knowing what I need to do, and doing something else instead, and then hating myself for it later. I want to plant my feet firmly on the earth and do what is best for myself, even when I’m scared to death of what that could mean. I want to enjoy the beautiful faces of my daughters, and never forget for a minute how blessed I am or how fast it goes by. I want to find the right words to say to Aisley, to make her softer. I want my Camryn never to have a reason to be so hard. I want to be with people who love me and have my best interest at heart, and I want to recognize when that is not the case. I want to laugh more, cry some, and be angry a LOT less. I want to slow down. I want to stop running, and just slow down. What is the point to this life if I’m too busy to see all of the real and valuable things it contains? I want to remember how much I love, and am loved. That’s my goal this year…and maybe the rest of them, too.

I’m wondering if you guys have that same, surreal feeling about your life ever? Does it seem impossible that you could be however old you are? Are you a worrier, and if so, have you always been, or is it new? Thanks for reading, and I’m so glad to be back!

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10 thoughts on “Time Flies By…

  1. Yes. I know how you feel. I also know if you want to be mad less, be mad less. Maybe that’s what the extra decade I have on you has taught me. Hanging onto rightness, no matter how right you are, doesn’t actually make you feel any better, it just makes you right. Which, as I get older, is a more isolated spot from which to contemplate the world. Better than “right” I prefer “allow.” Allow people to be as they are, whether or not you can then share living space with them–well that’s something you will either allow or not. And most of all, I have found the best drug of all: peace of mind.

    Peace to you, and all your family.

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  2. I will be 32 in a few months and I can’t believe how fast time went by either. I’m on track as far as career but have struck out on the relationship and kid front. Now every birthday reminds me of my ticking clock and how much harder it may be to have kids IF I’m lucky enough to have one. As women we all have our insecurities I suppose.

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    1. Heck, I say do it by yourself! If you really want to have kids, you don’t HAVE to have a partner anymore…although, I do have to admit that going through pregnancy and parenting a baby alone is not really as joyful as it is when you are sharing it with the only other person on the planet who created this little human. My boyfriend and I have a relationship that often hovers on the verge of death…our baby keeps us limping along, probably more than either of us are even aware of. Which is not the greatest reason to be with someone, (it isn’t always the ONLY reason) but we love her soooo much. Neither of us wants to miss anything. PS-I was 33 when he and I hooked up and 35 when I had my little one, and I had no issues at all getting pregnant or being pregnant. So you have time! Plenty of time.

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  3. Good to hear from you, I hope things are looking up, the sun’s shining a bit brighter, a smile reaches your face easier 🙂

    LOVE your birthday resolutions, they seem like fantastic goals to aspire to. I hope your 37th year is one of your best!!

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    1. Thanks, Ben- I’m usually great…then I backslide a little, then I’m fabulous, then I’m evil and foul. After that, I calm down right up until I get bitchy again. Oddly enough, I do great until I have to interact with people…especially the ones I call “family”.
      Nah, I’m good, things are not as miserable (although I fear I am merely burying my head in the sand, once again) and I know that things will end up being wonderful for me again, eventually. Thanks!

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  4. I’m with you on that surreal feeling too, each year that goes by since I passed my mid-30s, it just doesn’t feel right that I’m as old as I am. I don’t “feel” that old, and I suppose it’s a good thing.

    Saturday I took Anna Marie to cheer for the spring football game, and at halftime she came up the bleachers with a few of her friends on the squad and they sat down next to me. She introduced her friends and for a minute I wasn’t sure how to introduce myself… Mr. Smith is the correct way to address me I guess considering our ages, but it feels too stiff and formal. And *old*. Calling me Bennie might make them feel uncomfortable since, well, to them I *am* old. So I said “Hi, I’m Mr. Smith, you can call me Bennie… but to most of her friends I’m ‘Anna Marie’s Dad’ and that’s fine too.” They giggled at that.

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    1. Yeah, I had one friend of my daughter’s call me “Miss Courtney” which I thought was so cute! Plus, my grandma called me that when I was little, so it was even better…Since my daughter and I have different names, and I hate it when people call me Mrs. Whatever, assuming I am married, I just prefer to be called Courtney. I don’t think her friends call me anything, though, really. Probably “Bitch” behind my back, but I hope not!
      I love your daughter’s name! So pretty!

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      1. Aw, thanks– yeah, that credit goes to her mom, it was her Grandmother’s name, and I thought it was a lovely choice!

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