The popularity of Facebook has amazed me in many ways. When I first joined at the urging of my (several years younger) cousin, (when? At least 5 years ago? Not sure.) I was completely clueless about what was supposed to happen and exactly why I wanted to be there. I remember asking my cousin (on Facebook) when the fun would begin. (Am I supposed to "poke" someone? Am I supposed to "like" it?) I gave it some time and slowly figured it out, much the same way my love affair (love-hate affair?) with Twitter developed.
Through Facebook I reconnected with people I never thought I would. I have moments of defensiveness when I "unfriend" and perhaps "block" people or simply decide I will never "friend" so-and-so, but for the most part I am open to whomever wants to connect. I am often surprised by the results.
I have found people I have met in my life at different points also know one another. This happens often. Shockingly often.
I have met high school classmates as adults and connected as we never did in school. I've discovered wonderful people that I've "known" for years but never really knew...and I still don't know well but we're starting over. We share history even if it is parallel history. I'm learning I went to school with fantastic people (and probably some not-so-fantastic ones but I'm not in contact with them). I feel a little regret for my high school years. I was in my own world, perhaps I will write about that sometime.
One of those friends recently told me she can tell I keep a lot of things secret and I carry my friends' and family's worries on my shoulders. And she was completely right. I share a lot here, but there is much I keep. My friends? I am a Taurus (stooooopid Zodiac reassignment...sorry but I am a Taurus and always will be a Taurus.) so that means I am stubborn. Being a Taurus also means I am an incredibly loyal friend. Being a loyal friend to me often means taking on the problems of those around me.
It is not healthy...the taking on of others' problems. I've always known that, but it has done little to change things. I worry...but rarely about the little things.
What is better? Worrying about things that probably won't happen that the consequences are minuscule or worrying about things you already know are in progress but you have little control over? Clearly no worries would be ideal.
So I am working on developing a bubble around my heart. It is easier said than done when friends are losing loved ones and hearing devastating diagnoses.
In the real world I speak little. (Though my brother finds this inconceivable and hilarious.) Several people have told me that when I speak my words are valuable. I've often thought they were blowing sunshine up my rear end.
I haz issues...but if you've read my blog for any amount of time (what? 2 times? I totally hide my issues!) you already knew that. When people say nice things about me I am skeptical. I harbor secrets even as I share too much. I punish my body for my good fortune.
In the great scheme of things I am remarkably lucky. I have a fantastic relationship with most of my family. I have a great support network, both in real life and online. I've had three successful pregnancies and have three healthy children. I have a husband that loves me despite my foibles. We have a home that we recently added to and made fit our family even better than it did before.
I miss those family members we have lost.
I worry about those who are troubled. (Including myself.)
In the last few weeks I've begun to recognize all the ways I punish myself for my good fortune. I am fat so that others will see that I am not as lucky as I really am. In my mind, I can't be happy and healthy and beautiful so I sabotage myself. I can't be so lucky as to have a fantastic husband who loves me despite my issues. I can't be so lucky as to have had three healthy children who are compassionate, smart, gorgeous and loving.
My issues don't allow me to be happy.
But I am. I am happy but I still punish myself for being happy. So my issues include not allowing myself to be happy without punishing my body. Because if I really look at it, if I punish my body so much I am going to make my kids learn to deal with life without their mom. That's not punishing me, that's punishing them. I hate that.
I punish myself for my past. I've made poor decisions. I feel responsibility for things that happened to me.
I need to offer myself forgiveness. And that bubble around my heart.