Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

Fear and Loathing in Red House

Today is a rainy day and a Monday, so apparently I'm doubly screwed. Actually, I like rainy days AND Mondays, so I'm not sure what is up today. I'm contemplative, somber, and kind of sad today, and it's not really coming from anywhere. I'll be completely honest when I say that Mother's Day has to be one of my least favorite holidays. I never feel like I can show my own mother the ways I appreciate her, and I don't feel like one day can really sum up appreciation anyway. For myself, I feel like there is some pressure to be a perfect queen for the day, and all of my actions are scrutinized. How is my day going? Am I having a good day? Is everybody being perfect so my day can be perfect? Ugh, too much pressure when I really would just prefer to be left alone. The greeting cards, talks at church, and wishes for a wonderful day are just too much for me. I already struggle enough with my role as a mother, and all the cards and words just amplify those feelings of failure I already feel. Isn't that terrible!? That is how the one day a year dedicated to mother's makes me feel. I mean, I woke up with two huge zits and a period, so Happy Freaking Mother's Day to me! Blar.

How Mother's Day makes me feel.

I don't know if it is because of yesterday, or because I've got the hormonal hurricane thing going on, but today I just feel down. Thinking about my diet, and weight loss, and eating habits are making me acutely aware of myself. When I think about my life, I identify parts of my life with two things: music, and my body composition. How skinny I was (or rather, what jeans size I was in) seems to be a theme in how happy I have been in my life. It's mentally crippling to know that I've based so much of my happiness on my outward appearance. No wonder the past two years have been a mental health hell for me. I've been so unhappy, and it's been because of my body composition!? That is just sick. But it's true. And I have no realistic way of breaking that cycle, and really have no idea where it even comes from.

I've always told myself that I was going to get old gracefully. I was going to welcome the wrinkles, the gray hair, the wisdom that can only come with age. Wow! Have I been lying to myself or what!? I hate this getting old thing. Not just for what is happening on the outside, but for what I'm forced to reevaluate on the inside. Aside from the outward manifestation of age, I find myself wishing I could go back 15 years to my 17-year-old self. That girl was getting ready to graduate high school and go on to college. If only I could tell her to be stronger, stay away from so much booze, and to beg her to not go to that party at Virginia Tech. I wish I could scream at her to go to class, get a tutor for chemistry and math, and that if she would just be patient, she'd realize her potential--it would just take a few years. I would tell her to tweeze her eyebrows, keep up the running, and read more. Hindsight is just more than 20/20. Sometimes it is torture. Most people don't know this, but I intended to be a geneticist. That was my great dream in life. If I went back to do it now, I'm 100% positive that I would have great success. And I sometimes feel resentful that my life circumstances will never afford me that opportunity.

I wish I could put my finger on what is up today. I'd love to know what is going on hormonally and chemically in my body, and if the diet has anything to do with it. Maybe Mother's Day did it to me. Maybe watching that show on TV about "unearthing ancient secrets" of the bubonic plague and CCR5 (a DNA marker) is making me kick myself for not being that medical detective like the geneticist on the show. I don't know, but I'm feeling particularly inadequate today.

Anyway, enough self loathing for now. A workout is in my very near future...in like, 15 minutes, and today I need it. Here's hoping you have a better day than I have. And to prove that I'm not a complete Debbie Downer, I'm resolving myself to a better attitude after this much needed exercise.