Climbing the Mountain

Writing about me is not difficult. Admitting things that I realize as I type is difficult. Letting my mind wander until it reaches a certain place is important but not easy. That said, writing about me IS difficult. Not in the actual typing, but in the thinking thoughts that are not so nice about myself. Not judging me. Why do I judge myself? Why do I hold me up to higher levels than I do anyone else I know? Is this something learned? Is this something I was taught? Was I abused? Not intentionally. Was I abused? Was I lost? Was I ever really HEARD? How are these things connected? Are they connected? Am I a lost cause? NO. Have I thought I was a lost cause? Not of any value. Not worthy. Too Fat. Ugly. Yes I have thought all of these things. I remember my mother telling me I could do anything if I only wanted it enough. She tried to built me up. She tried to give me confidence. I was taught or learned to sit down and shut up. I learned to speak when spoken to. I learned to not try things. I learned to listen rather than speak. I learned what I was told. I also struggled to learn in many ways. It was not easy for me to learn. I saw things in such a different way than most. I was a Dreamer. I remember my Mom talking to a teacher one time, with me sitting right there, supposedly playing. I was not very old at the time, first or second grade I think. Parents, be careful what you talk about in front of your children, they listen and hear more than you realize. I am starting to realize now that part of my problems growing up were not all me. I think there is a link. My Grandfather had "Hardening of the Arteries". He did not have Alzheimers. My mother reacted almost violently when I suggested that he did. I did not know it at that time, but she was entering that world herself at that time. My own mother ended up having Alzheimers also. I think back and when I do I wonder if I am remembering things in the right way. Have I soured all my own thinking? Have I soured the thinking of my two younger children? Have I messed up my oldest Daughter? Answers are not easily found. I remember one time of getting so excited about having a slumber party. It was the first time I had been allowed to invite other girls over to stay with me. I got so worked up I made myself sick. Mom had to come and get me from school early. It was nerves I think. I was so worried about it for some reason. What I began to talk about before and wandered away from was that I believe that this problem of the mind that I have is inherited and undiagnosed Manic Depressive Disorder. It explains a lot of things from when I was growing up. It also explains some of the things that happened to me in school and in my social encounters. I remember one time being terrified of going to Bible School! I was scared all the way through it that year. The next Summer went better. I remember wanting to be social. I was always "on". My mother was the same way, ever the jokester. Yet when I look back at pictures of her growing up or later on, she was never smiling. Or if she was, it seemed a forced smile. She was very good at "acting" happy and I learned well. I do not blame her, times were not easy for women back then. I have been very blessed in that area for I have been allowed to "go my own way" by a family who love me beyond measure. I finally realize this. Isn't medicine a wonderful thing? Only 2 years ago this time of year I was in a not so happy place. I was so down on myself. Yet at the same time I was happy too. I had begun to lose weight. In fact, I had lost about 50 to 60 pounds. I am not sure of what weight because I would have to look it up in my weight watchers books. The point is, I did the most Manic thing I have ever done. It was in late October when I made the final move out. I had been moving things to an apartment for a couple of weeks by that time. I had paid the first months rent and the deposit on an apartment in a town that I have always loved visiting. After I moved there I learned of many streets that I had never been down. Funny how a person or family does things a certain way all of the time. We had always driven on the same few streets while in this town. We never ventured around to see the rest of it...mostly the northern part. This is where I found the apartment. Anyway, I moved out and only told my middle daughter because I knew she would handle it the best...she is very level headed in that way. She had to tell my husband I had moved out. I did not even talk to him about it. I could not because I knew he would talk me out of it. Now I wished I had talked to him. I would have saved us a lot of money and time and energy and effort. Love was never in question. I still love him and always will. What I NEEDED and still do is change. I need to be in control although it terrifies me to think about it. Now it is the same time of year again and here I am thinking of running away again. Actually, I think about it about once a month. Hummm.... connection there?

Loony Tunes comes to mind. Cycles. Will delve into that at a later time.

Is there a point to this rambling story? I am not sure. Will work on that at another time as well. Now it is time for me to go to bed. I will read this story again tomorrow and possibly shed some light on what it was I wanted or am trying to discover....or say.....mostly to me.

Hugs all and hug yourself too....it feels good and you deserve it!!!

Katie