Sunday, December 30, 2007
And you take me the way I am
I am having trouble sleeping at night. The sleeping pills my mother gave to me wink at me from my nightstand, but I know how consistently my trouble with sleeping will rear its ugly head and the last thing I need is a dependency on something else.
I have a teddy bear in my room. Given to me by a friend several years ago when my sister-in-law lost her baby and sadness was a continual blanket over me. It has sat at the foot of my bed for a long time, seeming something silly to hold onto but having enough meaning for me not to throw it out.
Since returning from the hearth of my family for Christmas, I have taken to sleeping with this teddy bear every night. The words from the attempted intervention from my sister, brother and their spouses still stinging.
"Poor life choices..."
"Pretty soon you'll be a crack addict..."
"No self-respect..."
"Why do you let everyone in your life treat you just like Dad?"
"You're just like Mom....."
Having chosen to live a different life away from the religion in which I was raised, I knew these lectures and attempts to bring me back to the fold would be inevitable. I just didn't expect such a deep misunderstanding of who I really am or how different things are for me than them.
No, I'm not always happy with my life. The last year has absolutely positively SUCKED. I never want to set foot in a courtroom again. I never want to go to a Dr's appointment again. I never want to be let down by a man again. I never want to give someone my heart again.
But you know what, I'm at peace with my life. I'm living my life for me and me alone. And that's the most important thing of all.
However, the teddy bear is still necessary. Sleeping alone, being plagued by my cell phone that isn't ringing after the promises made by a certain adorably cute but horribly reliable individual, has become unbearable, physically painful. I need something to hold onto, or I'm afraid I'll start crying and never stop.
I turn 30 in a week. In one week my 20's are over. Part of me can't believe that I've made it to where I am. I have an amazing career in New York City. I've learned how to stand on my own two feet in a city that eats people up and heartily spits them out. I discovered myself to the depth of my soul and learned to love the size of my ass.
Poor life choices?
I genuinely don't think so.
Today's Title from: The Way I am by Ingrid Michaelson
I have a teddy bear in my room. Given to me by a friend several years ago when my sister-in-law lost her baby and sadness was a continual blanket over me. It has sat at the foot of my bed for a long time, seeming something silly to hold onto but having enough meaning for me not to throw it out.
Since returning from the hearth of my family for Christmas, I have taken to sleeping with this teddy bear every night. The words from the attempted intervention from my sister, brother and their spouses still stinging.
"Poor life choices..."
"Pretty soon you'll be a crack addict..."
"No self-respect..."
"Why do you let everyone in your life treat you just like Dad?"
"You're just like Mom....."
Having chosen to live a different life away from the religion in which I was raised, I knew these lectures and attempts to bring me back to the fold would be inevitable. I just didn't expect such a deep misunderstanding of who I really am or how different things are for me than them.
No, I'm not always happy with my life. The last year has absolutely positively SUCKED. I never want to set foot in a courtroom again. I never want to go to a Dr's appointment again. I never want to be let down by a man again. I never want to give someone my heart again.
But you know what, I'm at peace with my life. I'm living my life for me and me alone. And that's the most important thing of all.
However, the teddy bear is still necessary. Sleeping alone, being plagued by my cell phone that isn't ringing after the promises made by a certain adorably cute but horribly reliable individual, has become unbearable, physically painful. I need something to hold onto, or I'm afraid I'll start crying and never stop.
I turn 30 in a week. In one week my 20's are over. Part of me can't believe that I've made it to where I am. I have an amazing career in New York City. I've learned how to stand on my own two feet in a city that eats people up and heartily spits them out. I discovered myself to the depth of my soul and learned to love the size of my ass.
Poor life choices?
I genuinely don't think so.
Today's Title from: The Way I am by Ingrid Michaelson
