Just a Woman

I am just a woman.  Not just, really.  As if to imply that somehow makes me inferior.  I am a woman. One woman. In this big, chaotic, selfish world.  And since this is a selfish world and I am in it, here is my tiny corner of selfishness.  This is my journal. My therapy. My voice. The voice for a woman who is struggling. Struggling with marriage. With motherhood. With sanity. With an unbalanced body and mind.

My journal. My thoughts, as random as they may be. I’m sure I’ll find reflected here the rollercoaster of emotions and ideas that is me.

Here’s one random thought. I am using word press as my host for this blog. This journal.  I am not sure I like it. I am accustomed to blogger which seems so much simpler. More simple. Whatever.

Anyway, back to random and selfish ramblings.

Most days I feel as though I am drowning.  Being sucked up in a whirlpool of conflicting emotions and thoughts.

Expectations. So much is expected of me.  And BY me.

I have a daughter who has learning challenges.  Mental Retardation, Unspecified, they say.  I didn’t think they still used that term. Mental Retardation. The school says she has an IQ of 55, maybe lower.  I don’t know.  I home school her so I am well aware of her hang ups academically.  I also see where she is very bright in other areas.  Her education doesn’t concern me quite as much as her training.  And her moods.  She shows many autistic tendencies, such as meltdowns and language delay, but they say she isn’t autistic.  Doesn’t matter. I home school her so she doesn’t have to live with a label.  I had her diagnosed so I would know what I was dealing with.  So I would not expect too much or too little of her.

Like it was and is with me.

Too much expected in some areas and too little in others. Just follow the rules and do what I say and all will be fine.  Try to think for yourself and you will be accused of rebelling or being on drugs.

Reading over this post I am reminded of how crazy I am becoming. That’s okay.  This is where I can release the craziness in an effort to find order.

I know God is order.  No doubt.  No doubt He created and sustains. He saves.  Though many atheists would misinterpret my random crazy selfish thoughts as indicative of a weak faith, they are not.

I know these ramblings are the by-product of unbalanced hormones brought on my two births, depression and fibromyalgia.  Not to mention a life time of unhealthy living.  Fifteen years of that filthy, awful habit of smoking.  There. I am a closet smoker.  Not entirely hidden of course.  My husband knows about it. And the kids, though I do not do it around them. I’m hardly that selfish.  While I am on this subject, let me just say I want to quit but am terrified. Terrified of the withdrawal. Terrified of who I’ll be without it.  Maybe just a small part of me too has a death wish.

This happens when you are depressed.  When your rational self flies out the window and your personality is split between who you want to be and who you are right now.

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About myjournaltherapy

If the title of the blog doesn't sum it up, then you are too dim witted to be reading this. View all posts by myjournaltherapy

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