I've felt very unmotivated to blog or write lately. The last few weeks I've been feeling very tired and kind of sick. I've had moments of inspiration and motivation (like when Gary took me out to get the flowers for the yard and turned the soil so I could plant them). That motivated me to get them planted.
But, I don't like to write when I don't have a happy attitude. I don't like to dwell on negative feelings or things that bring me or others sadness. But, I've also been reflecting on that tendency.
I went to hear my sister-in-law, Lynn, give a presentation at Women's conference. She spoke on the importance of reaching out to each other as women and about what a difference we can make by the small things we do. She did a wonderful job, and it was hard to contain the tears as she spoke of people who had reached out to her and her family.
One point she made has really stayed with me. She said to ask ourselves if we are able "to be real." She said that if we are able to "be real," and share with others our struggles, then they will know they are not alone when they deal with the same things.
I can easily share my faults and laugh at myself and the silly or dumb things I do. But I am also very proud, and it is very hard for me to express things that really hurt or give me sadness. I have friends that can be open about very painful things, and I marvel at and appreciate that ability. But really allowing yourself to feel pain, let alone share it, is very hard. It makes me cry, and I don't like to cry.
But lately, when I haven't been feeling that well, everything makes me cry. I think I just feel vulnerable or something. Thinking make me cry. Seeing loss makes me cry. Witnessing kindness makes me cry. Feeling kindness makes me cry. (Gary has been looking at me sideways with concern as I have been crying as I write this) Which just makes me cry more because I can't explain why I'm crying. So, please, while I am in this crying state, do not be kind to me. It would just make me cry, and I hate to cry.
Ok, enough of this. I'm really uncomfortable being real.
4 comments:
Ok, so first, you are very normal. Don't be so hard on yourself. And second, maybe you're pregnant! Those are all the things I feel when I'm pregnant.(But seriously, it's probably hormones. Wow, I sound like my husband. He writes everything I feel off to hormones. Sorry.)
After reading your blog I think fake is better. You sound very down. That's ok, for a while. You said not to be nice so I won't. I think that "being real" is a good idea some of the time. But, sometimes it is used to just feel sorry for yourself by excuse. You have every reason to be happy with your wonderful immediate family, your wonderful siblings, especially me, and the good life you have. I love Pres. Monson's mantra of "Glance at the past, prepare for the future, but live in the present". If Misty is right and it is hormones, sorry I can't help you. But, if it is not, then just know that you are loved and appreciated and move on with that knowledge, casting your burden on HIm who is more than willing to help you carry it.
I like to see the "real" side of you. We all have those feelings and you are the first person to support people when they are experiencing them. You are one of a rare breed of people that give and love unconditionally. You always have. So, I think it's great that you are allowing other people to do the same for you. You deserve it. Also, I have a theory that pent-up sadness manifests as anxiety because that is more socially acceptable and "comfortable". So- keep being sad as long as you need to- you'll save yourself some anxiety down the road........
Annette, Is it something in our water here. I can relate. I wondered if maybe it was the coming of summer and all that it brings----Kids, kids, kids, kids, parties, B-ques., messes, kids?????? I love summer and I love all that goes with it, but whew, I am tired just thinking about it. We have been gone about four weeks straight somewhere or other, and I think I am just worn out. You hang in there and call me anytime to talk. Love you
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