I don't see myself as at all delusional. I think things through to a fault, and hammer out the smallest details of every single thing. I've always been this way. I have thoughts, dreams, timelines and plans. I have flow charts and yellow legal pads of pros and cons (a la Ted Mosbey) all in my head. I have to force my brain over to "sleep mode" at night, and if I wake up in the middle of the night, I have to start "shutdown" all over.
This being said, Im still a girl in every sense of the word. I have emotions, feelings and far too many heart strings to be pulled at. I struggle with confidence, and self worth. I second guess every single decision, and have to battle my way out of depression and anxiety more often than I care to admit. I wonder if my prayers are heard (they are), I wonder if my husband loves me (he does), and I am on a constant quest for peace and balance. This is why I blog. I need to get it all out. And while you wouldn't know it if you actually read this blog, I bottle things up. And when you have a brain that goes 1000mph that is a lot of bottling. This is my safe haven. I don't worry too much about what people read here. It's freeing to say how I really feel. When you are a people pleaser, you don't always feel like you can be honest. Here I am. Not that I'm always right, or I have all the answers, just how I honestly feel.
I have always had out hope that our situation would change. That our families would have a coming to Jesus moment, and realize that there is a better way to live. That you can have good, healthy relationships with your kids/siblings. You can be imperfect, but love. If I could grant myself one wish in life it would be for a healthy family life. I've prayed, cried, and questioned over our families. I've asked God to fix things. But it's just not going to happen. The idea that things will change is my unicorn. Sometimes it raises its sparkly head from the ground, and I hop on, stroking its head, and watching the glittered ground ahead. Then, as fast as it springs up, it bucks me off, the glitter fades away and I'm left with the aftermath of pain and unmet expectations.
Then I remember that I'm not wanted in glittery, unicorn land. I passively allow myself to be abused or accused until anger explodes. I can't let the unicorns get close because as soon as my guard is down, they impale me with their sparkly horns. Every effort misconstrued, every action, intention, word, or moment of silence is met with a preconceived dysfunctional opinion of why I did, said or thought it. Unicorn land is exhausting. One unicorn asks you to do something, the other unicorn is angry because you did what the first unicorn asked, and you leave every situation more and more frustrated. Then when you're frustrated, you're not being "nice" so you are pinned as the animal control officer of unicorn land.
The problem is unicorns aren't real, but these emotions are.
