Thursday, March 20, 2014

Outpouring of some stuff

My therapist told me this week that I am hurting myself.  I knew that, but hearing someone else tell me that resonated with me.  There are some things I need to get out.  I know my husband will read this and I want him to know that this is not to make him feel bad.  It is not to create guilt.  The only outpouring I have of these things as they have bothered me come in waves of anger directed at him.  Why?  Because I cannot deal with the sadness so I focus on the anger when the feelings get too overwhelming.  I ask him to look at this as an outpouring of sadness, not anger or rage, but more about what I have held in for a long time or a short time depending on what items I hit. 
The marathon...every Sunday that I ran long, I thought about finishing that race.  Hell, some of the time picturing that moment was the only thing to push me through another 15+ mile run.  I pictured it more times than I can tell you.  Each time it brought a smile to my face.  The day came and went and no moment happened.  The truth was that by mid-Oct I was burned out on running, a lesson I will remember this year going into the marathon.  I still planned to run and would have finished.  The best way to explain what that moment to me was that it was supposed to be a moment that would allow me to maybe relinquish some of the self-loathing I do.  I felt like if I could defeat the marathon then maybe I was not as weak as I thought, or insignificant, or insecure and incompetent.  It takes a lot to push through 15 miles and then 20 miles and then 26.2.  Having that ability meant something to me and meant that maybe just maybe I was not as bad as I believe I am.  The most I ran last summer and fall was 23.2 miles.  It was broken up into 2 sections, but the rest in between was only about 15 minutes and I still did over 23 miles.  Me, the girl who never ran in PE.  The girl who was always picked last, and the girl who eventually learned to sit on the sidelines rather than out in front.  You see, I used to be this great outgoing person who was not afraid to shine.  Something changed my senior year of high school.  That was when I felt the change happen.  I was dating David Tanner at the time.  I don't think it was he.  I never really liked him all of that much, truth be told.  It was a long progression that went through my first year of college.  By the end of my freshman year, I was this quiet, compulsive, miserable and awkward person.  It took another 16 years to finally lose some of that misery.  During that time, I endured many things that I would not now.  I lost 75 pounds that I gained my sophomore year of college along the way, I got married, I had 2 kids, and I built a wonderful, amazing career.  Even with that of that, I was still just treading water.  Every now and then something happens that pushes me to yearn to swim upstream.  I spent a good part of my 35th year doing just that, pushing myself and learning to enjoy life a little more.  Most of my 36th and 37th years were spent with setbacks from that.  I have gained 10 pounds and felt more tired and miserable than I had in a long, long time.  I felt the awkwardness in everything.  It keeps me from talking to people and doing some of the things I want to do.  I desperately want to be like the girl who was not content to sit on the sidelines, the girl I remember before my senior year.  I don't want to be her, do not get me wrong.  I am older and much wiser.  I want part of her to merge with the woman I am now.  I do not want to be afraid to shine anymore.  I do not want to worry about everything I say or do or worry about the way I look so much.  The marathon for me was that moment to shine, and I guess I had hoped in that moment, maybe it would carry forward.  Maybe I could hold onto it and take it further so maybe I could find that girl in me and get part of her back.  That is why I am sad about the marathon.  I do not know if I go into this year's that hopeful.  I worry more that with my foot issues that I will not be able to run that far.  It stresses me.  I did not have a beautiful, wonderful, and amazing wedding.  I never wore a dress that I felt a princess in.  The birth of my first child was a sad not a happy occasion.  I let myself down in a dozen other major ways.  I want my moment.  That is what the marathon was about, my moment.     

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