TV isn’t a big thing in my house. I just don’t watch much television aside from the occasional cooking show, Wednesday night programs on ABC (Emma’s favorites, so we watch together) and OU Football on Saturdays. Have you ever binged watched a show? I have two times. Sex and the City back in 2009 and True Blood about two years ago. To be honest that much TV makes me feel a little out of sorts for a few days and a little let down when I finish the series. But alas, people are always talking about The Walking Dead on Facebook, and I’ve been curious about the zombie series that has so many people enthralled. Plus someone told me there was a pretty good story with the characters so much, so you want to see what’s going to happen next week. Finally, I decided to find out who Glen is.
I got through the first three episodes and exhaustion crept in sending me to bed. Yeah, I like the show. Now, I know who Glen is. Can’t believe they stripped down that car down for parts. I mean, I get it, you need a generator but dang. Also, watching a zombie tearing apart a horse for their am snack is bothersome. Eat all the people you want but leave the animals alone. And why is the main guy’s wife already shacking up with his best friend? What the heck? Daryl has just been introduced. I think I like him. Today between making pies and cooking casseroles I’ll be binge-watching me some Walking Dead.
As I was watching the zombies walk around all dazed and absently staring into space, I thought that must be what I’ve looked like this last week. The things I’ve written about in my last couple blog posts have affected me. I’ve been down. I’ve dealt with depression for years and usually I can mask the feelings and symptoms for a while then I start to slip. Everyone at work just thought I was sick-it’s easier to let them think you aren’t feeling well than to admit you are eat up with things you have no control over. I had a long talk with my brother on Sunday, and he helped me realize something about myself. I am looking for something external to make me happy.
I have a void in me. I know it’s there. It was created last year when life spun out of control. I went from being a whole and happy girl to being a hollow shell. A little zombie like minus the need for flesh. (Sorry my friends, humor is needed when I feel tears come.) For nine months, I was living in a fight or flight response state. Then things settled down. I had removed myself from the situation and started focusing on getting stability back in my life. Writing this blog was helps. The things bouncing around in my head work themselves out on cyber paper. Bad dreams and a few little incidents that spooked me aside, I have been doing better.
This next part is hard to write, it’s a little too telling about my character. If I omit it, then I’m not being honest with myself and what’s the point? Also, I need the accountability. So here it goes, I started getting attention because of my writing. It felt good to know I was striking a cord with people. We all like to know we are doing something good, right? I didn’t focus on the attention from the blog. I focused on the attention from the conversations that kept going. You know that void I mentioned? It was largely absent as long as the conversation and attention were there filling it. I didn’t have to continue to work on me. I had a new and easier thing to focus on. Plus getting to know people and texting is fun. On the other hand, personal growth is exhausting. Have you tried it? It’s next to impossible to obtain, and it has to be worked on constantly, as I am discovering. I’m also learning this about myself: I will latch onto external things to make me happy which is a touch ironic for a girl who lost everything she owned in a house fire this year. Well, I’ve gotten over the material stuff largely. Not completely but mostly. I as my friend Kendra pointed out yesterday, I am a brand whore, but it’s mostly contained now to a few key items. It’s the other external things in life that I’m craving and don’t necessarily need at this moment.
I have this idea of normal in my head, and it doesn’t involve me living alone over half the time. I have been fighting with myself the last few months because I’ve been rejecting my new life. Accepting what is instead of what we want is hard to do. I have this really insightful friend who summed it up perfectly. Rhonda said basically I’m a relationship girl and I thrive in that environment. I’ve laughed at her for saying I’m a Martha Stewart/Betty Crocker with a good heart all rolled into one, and she says I’m gorgeous. The whole statement makes me feel good even if it sounds like an ad. Anyhow, it’s pretty much true about the relationship part, and I’m in general a pretty fussy girl that likes all that homemaking stuff. Rhonda has told me that there is a Mr. Right for me out there, and HE HASN’T FOUND Me yet. Notice what’s in caps? I told her I hadn’t been looking, but the fact is I’m all too eager to fill the void, and I’m not used to getting a lot of male attention.
I decided when I was bigger to accept myself and if the right person came along he would love me for me. I felt invisible. No one paid much attention to the fat girl with a pretty face. I was ok with that. (I didn’t need the attention. After all, I am an introverted Scorpio.) Guys, #2 and #3, did come along, and neither of them was the right one for me. I did the weight loss thing for my health, bottom line. I was never morbidly obese, but my body wasn’t handling the extra weight. When I had the surgery, I was happily married and hadn’t planned on being in the dating world again, ever. Of course, I’m single again and this time around I’m not feeling invisible. Men, in general, I think do look at the external package way more than I ever have. Now I’m back to wanting someone to love me for me but on the other side of the coin.
Truth is, I’m afraid of never finding love again and at the same time I know I’m not ready for any of these things I’m wanting. I have the patience of a gnat. That on top of being uncertain isn’t a good combo for a girl like me. I have never let things just be. I’ve always made things happen in my life. I’m a total type A. For once I’m considering backing off from my true nature (at least trying). What’s wrong with just being? What’s wrong with giving myself time to heal and grow as a person? I may like the end result.
Ok, time to quit trying to fix me in a day. It’s Thanks Giving after all, and I’ve got The Walking Dead waiting.
daisies, coffee and pecan pie,