deciphering the days

I am still here. Still breathing. What an interesting year. 2017 Me and My Love: Married. Moved. New Job for Me (a real one this time!). New Friends. New Hobbies. New Things. New Styles. Life is Good. New. And Good. Married is Good. My Family: Brother in the Marines. Drinking. Tatted. Smoking. (should I have taught him more?) Older Brother Moved. Mental Struggles. Marital Struggles. (I recommend a therapist) Parents Divorced. (I quite answering the phone for a while) Sister Lives with Father. Loves New School. (one of the few silver linings this year) Father Smoking (seriously - do you have to have a destructive force in your life?) Mother Engaged. Set 2017 Wedding Date. Father's Friend is Groom. Yikes. (this is worth of an entire blog post...) Brothers Stressing over Wedding. (then why are you going?) Teaching Brothers about Mother. (what do one sided relationships actually mean?) Bitter over My Parent's Life Choices. Brothers Not Going to Wedding (mi...

seek and you will find husband searches and doesn't find then he doubts i don't doubt i don't search. i don't find i don't question His goodness but i don't search. i am prideful what is husband searching for and not finding what am i ignoring why don't i search why doesn't he find seek and you will find

Okay. Here I am. Still trying to KonMari my belongings (check out my earlier post about the KonMari adventure for the back story). I have mostly figured out how it should feel when I am done, if I have KonMari-ed correctly. It has happened before. Like once. Maybe twice. The sentimental items are really getting to me. And I think I figured out why. I am not particularly satisfied with my childhood. When in the eyes of the public, my family pretended to be something it was not. We were never a reflection of the portrayed image, never that I can recall. I remember my middle school and high school years - feeling very bored and lonely. I tried desperately to be like the other teenagers but never once by adding my own, original contributions. I wasn't simply trying to fit myself into their clubs, rather I was looking to groups for a definition of who I should be. I was trying to do that then, and I still am. I am trying to construct memories of a happy, social teenage life that did...

A friend of mine wrote this. It really struck home with me: "I am afraid of being vulnerable. That's why I am quiet all the time: it is not that I don't have anything to say, I could fill the void with words, I am afraid of what being honest might cause. I am afraid that if I told you what I think you would think I'm stupid. I'm afraid that if I told you what I feel you would reject me for feeling the wrong things . I'm afraid that if you knew the things I have done you wouldn't want to spend time with me. That's why I am always so measured, so quiet, only breaking the silence when I'm pretty sure I have something really good to say. That is why when I do speak it's so often sarcastic. Sarcasm is safe, it directs negative attention elsewhere and I can score points for being witty. By being sarcastic I don't reveal my true thoughts or feelings and so nothing precious to me can be used against me... I don't risk giving you anything tha...