A big part of the reason that I blog is that I feel so un-heard so much of the time. Maybe that’s sad, but it’s just true. Every mother repeats herself far too many times before someone finally listens. It’s just part of the deal.
The most lovely Erin said something that runs through my head every day, at least a few times, each day. It went something like this: I could martyr away nine lives and no one would come to even one funeral.
The truth is, I martyr a lot. It’s like an old habit. Maybe much like drinking or smoking or eating too much. The pathways in my brain are all stomped down with sighs. I so easily tromp on through the same wooded incline, begging to be seen. So I could go on and on and on right now about how hard the last weeks have been, months really. How it just seems to be getting worse all the time and how that scares me and how I feel all folded up and stepped on. Yeah, I could go on and on with a list of hurts and wrongs and just plain ass pains, but I don’t want to, even though I want to.
I was trying to help Asher make sure to get his vomit in the bowl and Miles was saying Mommy Mommy Mommy over and over while Elsie had a blow out that left poop up in her armpits and all over my hands, and I was thinking about how someone who shall remain nameless had gotten into the Lego Advent calendar unattended and how could he do that what kind of child am I raising to be so sneaky and then act so flippant about it…Yeah, that’s what I was doing, when Erin’s words rang through again.
(Notice how I snuck in a list of hard things there, so you can be sure to know how hard it is.) (And that ain’t even the half of it.) (See? It’s like I can’t stop.)
The reality is, this is life and life is hard. I walk this fine line of trying to figure out how to be kind to myself and allow myself some inevitable frustration and neediness, and trying to just get over it and accept it and maybe even embrace selflessness and move on. But I’m always all mixed up in being both and it’s terribly tricky to figure out how to behave when you’re on your knees with vomit. So maybe what people say is true, I’m too hard on myself. But maybe it’s not. Maybe acting this ugly and impatient and over it just needs to stop, or at least show up less frequently.
So here I am, with a blog post rolling out instead of doing the twenty other things that somehow need repeating again. Because I’ve been in this house for too many days with week after week of sickness and it’s just feeding my own sickness. I say it here not because I want anyone to say I’m too hard on myself or to feed into my need to martyr, but simply because, sad or not, I need to be seen and heard. Does it change anything? I don’t know. I still have to do all the things I need to do today and I still have sick kids and I’m still battling my own mind. But at least when my tiny little extraordinary ordinary story is poured out and witnessed, something (dare I say spiritual?) happens that lifts part of the load.
I guess that’s pretty selfish. What I do here is navel-gazing and narcissistic, the antithesis of humility. (Really, let’s be honest…blogging is all of those things.) But I can’t seem to stop.
Maybe it’s sad but true– I’m lonely without this.
And maybe if I don’t share the beauty here, I don’t see it quite so clearly–the little moments that pull me through. Maybe that’s sad, but it’s just true.
There are a whole lot of people out there that don’t need a blog for perspective or otherwise. Maybe one day I’ll be one them. Today, I just needed to escape, just for ten minutes. To create something from nothing, whatever that something is.
(This was a true free write, my friends. And now I’m holding back on worrying over the words being misunderstood or going back and deleting any of it. But I’m going to leave it. Because it’s just the truth of the moment.)
{ 39 comments }
I read it. Just wanted you to know.
And vomit is the devil.
That was very honest. Sometimes you just have to say how you feel and not apologize for it. Hope everyone feels better soon.
heather, I don’t know if this relates, but I think it does. When I met my husband, we were dating around the season of Advent, and he said something that I am certain is the reason I married him.
He said that he loved Advent, because in the waiting, we remember it is ok to remember that there are some tears that don’t get wiped away until heaven.
I’ve hung on to those words for 8 years now, and am particularly comforted this time of year to NOT be ok, to know, deeply know that is freeing and hopeful.
so, keep writing and being real. I find comfort in THAT.
brooke
Who cares if blogging is narcissistic. It’s a much-needed, healthy outlet. Be honest, be heard, and don’t apologize for your true feelings.
Oh yea, buy lots of hand sanitizer too.
Beautifully written … and beautifully said … everything I’ve been feeling today. First trimester pregnancy sickness has kicked in with a surprise baby #7 and as I stare down the barrel of Christmas, I think no one can possibly understand. Not the kids who want to know why egg nog has been banned from the house, not the husband who thinks surely I should get to hanging the lights today, not the school teachers who keep piling on impossible projects before school lets out for vacation.
Can nobody hear me?
Oh, the world of blogging. How it makes our heads spin, am I right?
If it helps at all, I adore your blog. I respect your honesty. I come here knowing that I’m going to get the truth and that’s what keeps me coming back.
I SO agree with you. Completely. Wholly. Totally. Here I feel like I have a place in the world. Maybe it’s not a real place. Maybe when I die not a single Twitter follower, or Facebook fan or blog reader or blogging friend will come to my funeral. I don’t know. I don’t like to think about it. But I still love feeling heard anyway.
Let it stay and marinate. It’s what your life is right now and well, it just is what it is.
I’m trying SO hard to find humor in things lately, that’s the only sane way to handle (for me anyway) some of these crazy SAHM days I have, such as you described. I mean, you (meaning my 4 year old) just HAD to scream at the top of your lungs in the church parking lot with everyone watching that I’m a mean mom (see how I sneaked that in there?) Yeah.
I hear you girl. I always hear you.
xo
You don’t seem selfish or narcissistic to me. We all need community and an outlet…blogging provides the opportunity for both of those things. I’m glad you didn’t edit your post- there’s no judgment here!
ladyfriend,
i’m there with you…..needing an outlet, a place that is my own. to do whatever i want with, to escape from vomit-soaked pants and poop-soaked hands if just for a moment.
another thing i do to release when i can’t get away?? fill up a bowl of ice cubes, go out into my backyard, close the door behind me, and throw those suckers as HARD as i can against our fence. sometimes yelling about what’s inside. other times just thinking inside those thoughts. somehow watching them explode into tiny pieces while focusing one specific thought on that specific ice cube is therapeutic. when the bowl is empty, if i still need to get it out….i go back for more.
then i sit down, and blog about throwing ice cubes. :)
I try and remember it doesn’t matter if other people do what i do, think how i think, need what i need. I am an individual and so are you. Blogging as therapy is a real thing for me too. I think it’s a writer thing. Before this we only had journals as an outlet, but no one really to share them with.
It is all so hard. When you feel overwhelmed like OMG how are other people handling life? They aren’t. And if they seem more productive, it’s just because their season of life is different than yours. Look at how you made it through colic and helped me when things were completely suffocating me. I’m not suffocating anymore and we get through it. We always do. I think the point is to never stop trying. xoxo
Hearing you loud and clear. My 15- and 18-year-old are way past vomit-aiming mishaps and poopy armpits, but you speak truth to many situations where moms, employees, customers, patients, daughters, just want to yell, “Would someone just listen to me, PLEASE?!”
WELL SAID, DEAR MOMMA FRIEND IN THE TRENCHES. WELL SAID.
WE HEAR YOU OUT HERE. AND WE ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE. SO YOU JUST KEEP TALKING AND WE WILL JUST KEEP LISTENING AND WE WILL GET THROUGH IT TOGETHER.
MUCH LOVE FOR YOU TODAY.
I so totally could have written this. I feel guilty about complaining so much, but I feel guilty when I take the time for myself. My blog is my place to vent but I think in general I focus to much on the negative things this past two years instead of just “pulling up my bootstraps” (to quote my friend Julie) and just get on with it and accept this new life. Thanks for often writing what I’m thinking.
Poop up to the armpits…that totally sucks!
I can’t express in words how your post has helped me this morning. I have been feeling very alone and scared. Now I know I am not alone.
Thank you
I see you.
I know how you feel about blogging being selfish, I wonder about this too. But, at this moment, I feel lucky to have “blogging” as an outlet. Think of the SAHM’s of a few generations ago and how isolated they must have felt! We are able to connect with each other and build each other up, whether it’s by identifying with an honest thought like you’ve shared today, or with a hilarious story. I wonder, and this is total speculation, but I wonder if blogging hasn’t saved a few marriages and kept some fed up moms from walking away from it all? There are some days where it feels like this must be so. Thinking of you today!
Hey Heather
I don’t have anything profound to offer – but I will say this. You are NOT alone. And your blog always gives me perspecitive on the hard days of which there are many. They lift me up and out of my head when I need it. So, narcarsstic? I think not. I for one. am glad that you write and write from the heart. It’s the best reading and it really helps numerous others.
In the meanwhile, hold on. There will be a reprieve. Eventually. The getting there part sucks. Always. I’m sending positive vibes and hugs and thanking you for being real, when many times, the rest of the world is pretending.
xoxoxox
I LOVE your words and you. All of them. Except two: vomit bowl.
vomit bowl was one of my favorite parts. we have one up in here too. I think what you wrote is brave and honest, and honors the title of your blog. I wrote in kind, because you have an army of us standing shoulder to shoulder with you. http://bit.ly/tjlQ82
Oh, Heather, we all long to be heard, to be faced by someone and loved truly. We were made to live in community, to hear each other, to halve the burdens and double the blessings. All too often, we moms are all too alone. Blogs have a way of bringing us together, at least a little bit. Is it selfish? I don’t know. It’s certainly human. And that’s the way God made us. Human, I mean. I, for one, am thankful that you’re here, writing about all that makes life ordinary and extraordinary. Love ya!
“The pathways in my brain are all stomped down with sighs. I so easily tromp on through the same wooded incline, begging to be seen.”
THIS. This took my breath away.
YES YES YES, I understand you. I FEEL you. And I HEAR you.
And, of course, I love you.
-xoxo
-Ellie
You can be a little martyr-y to me, if you want. As a non-mom, I’ll never be able to one-up you with my more dramatic vomit story! Moms DO have it hard. Being the person who has to think of everything for everyone, non-stop, and make it look gracious and loving…well, that’s a hard row to hoe. People are kind of annoying, even when they’re YOUR people, even when you love them so much. It’s ok to admit. I’m glad you blog, because I think you’re wonderful and I love to hear what you have to say.
I love this {and know this} with every fiber of my being. xo
I love your honesty. Thank you for writing this and then for not going back and editing it. Every time you tell the truth about things like this, a million other mommies read your words and think THANK GOD I’m not the only one who feels this way. You’re a wonderful person and a wonderful mommy and you so totally don’t have it all figured out. That’s okay.
Yup, you explained the true reason behind my blogging. The escape from a reality that isn’t always perfect, lovely, or what we want. It’s tough, too, putting yourself out there and knowing that people will only know parts of who you are, never seeing the full picture. There are good, bad, ugly, and beautiful moments in our life and we choose which ones to display. Sometimes we pull from one exclusively because it keeps us going. I know that I am drawn to blogging because it allows me to explore who I am and what I am becoming. Maybe that’s how you feel as well.
Thank you for sharing this, Heather. And not deleting any of it. I am another mother who feels as you do (as I think, and hope, there are more of us). And you said it so RIGHT. You are not alone. And I thank you, because now I know I am not alone too.
No misunderstanding here. I started writing my blog to see if I could accurately say the things I thought in my mind. And did anyone else get it, think it, have thoughts to add? No. No misunderstanding.
Oh I love you, and who are you? You are me and everyone I suppose. I loved this post heather and enjoy reading and relating each time you come to my inbox. Hope you are able to enjoy the holiday season through the sickness.
Friend, you speak truth and honesty that resonates and comforts and makes us feel we aren’t alone. Thank you!
My best friend, Monica, reminds me constantly, “Your blog is ultimately for you, for your catharsis… write what’s on your heart.” I’m so very glad YOU write what’s on your heart. I’m still here even though I’ve been a bit absent, and I always, ALWAYS appreciate your words and your truth and your vulnerability.
You know what? Today was hard. And I think yesterday was, too. And it all blurs together. And I’m sad and ready to cry and then I’m mad and ready to scream. And I can’t figure out where my heart is in all of it because my mind is doing that thing. That martyr thing. That mad, martyr thing that sucks the beauty out of life.
xo
Hey you.
Life is hard, dude. I’ve been feeling that sharply in recent weeks (months?). And we do all need to be seen and heard. I haven’t been able to share on my blog much because of what I’m struggling with, and I have to say that while writing in my notebook helps, sometimes I really think it would be helpful to get that “I hear you.”
Beautiful honesty here, Heather.
by the way, not sure if you’re a Florence and the Machine fan, but this song has been getting me through: http://www.myspace.com/music/player?sid=84456807&ac=now Listen, and google the lyrics. Good stuff.
i am so glad that you did not delete, or edit your writing here.
i appreciate you and your writing.
you contribute something i can really relate to.
thank you.
I totally get this. Blogging is a creative outlet for me, and when you wrote “a big reason I blog because I feel so un-heard so much of the time,” all of me stood up and shouted “YES! That’s IT exactly!”
Thanks for sharing this free-write. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one.
I want to say in a hundred different ways, yes yes yes. I commiserate with you on a level that I almost feel as though you went into my head strung all the jumbled thoughts together and outputted this eloquently written post. All of my life I always knew I wanted to be a mother, I wanted a big family to replace the little family I had growing up. Sometimes, when its really hard I wonder if I knew it was going to be this hard would I still have wanted it? The answer is yes, but its such an easier conclusion to come to when you see that others feels as haggard as yourself and are still pushing through.
Marta recently posted..I Will Not Be Defeated
Being a mother is certainly a tough job that doesn’t get enough credit. But being a martyr isn’t going to make it better. Well said! Thanks!
Thank you! Thank you for writing this, for not deleting, for giving a voice to what many of us may be thinking and feeling but not saying.
Simply Gabriela – Living La Vida Normal recently posted..DEAR Monday: Not enough time
Guess what? I do it too.
I write because I feel unheard. Then my writing goes unnoticed and that hurts too.
I am a martyr. I come from a long line of martyrs. It’s in my blood.
Kim recently posted..Parenting Advice is Like a Buffet
Comments on this entry are closed.