I should start this new blog by telling the reader about myself. But, I don't know what to say. It was brought to my attention recently that not only do others not know the real me, but I don't know myself. I am embarking on the great task of rediscovering myself. This task is probably better left to those who have lives worth reading about. But, alas here I am. This blog will serve as my journal from now on. A journal where I can record the events that lead me to self discovery; a place where I can be candid, irreverent, and, well, myself, in hopes that anyone who might read it can be helped in discovering themselves. To anyone who might read this, I warn that as this is serving as my journal I am fair to no one but myself. Or, in other words, reader beware. It should also be said that I have vehemently avoided blogs until now.
This journal was inspired by a very unlikely character. A person from whom I do not normally receive nor seek inspiration from, to be totally honest; my brother in law, whom we'll simply call "Zeb" to protect the innocent. I do not know "Zeb" well, as he keeps to himself. Honestly, I wish I could do that sometimes. It's easier to just keep to yourself and not get too involved with others, sometimes. . . At the beginning of my married life, before I had met "Zeb", I was given several warnings by my in-laws about "Zeb." I was warned of his blunt character, to put it simply. I tried to get to know him and form my own opinion, and thought I had done so successfully. But, a recent unfortunate event occurred in the family. The entire Laymon family spent the longest week of our lives together. During that week we got to know each other a little better. After days of sitting around and marinating ourselves in tears, snot and raw emotion, we decided to have what I call "denial day." We did several things to take our minds off the event throughout the day, and finished it off by going out to dinner. I rode in "Zeb's" car and "Zeb" was driving. My other brother in law and his wife were in the car. We came to an intersection where we needed to turn left, but there was a median preventing it. "Zeb" decided he would turn right and "flip a 'B'." "Flip a what?" I asked him. He said he wouldn't tell me, afraid of offending me. My other brother in law, however, was not so afraid of hurting innocent ears, and told me. I had heard the term "Flip a 'Bitch' before, but just didn't think of that when he said it, I guess. My immediate thought was, "What the HELL?!" (Yes, I say lots of swear words in my head, and even some outside my head if the occasion requires). I thought, "These people don't know me at all." They thought they couldn't say that in front of me. I thought about that for the rest of the evening because it occurred to me that I had spent the past five years of my life putting up a front. I quickly learned of the extreme sensitivity of my husband's family shortly after meeting him. I have been walking on egg shells for five years to avoid hurting feelings (although I will admit, it gets tiring and sometimes I have let the weariness get the better of me and I have not been so careful). But, was it worth it? Was it worth it to walk on those egg shells and put on some kind of show, just so everyone will be happy? What was the result? They were afraid to be themselves around me because of the person I had made myself out to be for them. Then I thought about who I had made myself out to be for other people. Do I not really know my friends because they are making themselves out to be someone "safe" around me? Why have I been so afraid to be myself around others? Perhaps because "conscience does make cowards of us all" and I was afraid of hurting someone.
I can not tell you the number of times I have come home from a class, a play group, even CHURCH and thought, I'm glad that's over so I don't have to pretend anymore. In reality, I am generally a happy person, but am sad a lot of the time. I am okay with it too. It helps me make the most of the happy moments. I always go out and put on a smile and pretend most everything. There are a few people here whom I feel totally comfortable with. I feel I can go into their homes for play dates and have my frown on and not talk and be totally comfortable. Then there are the other times where I pretend to be the happy housewife who has everything under control and always has a dozen cookies made sitting on a clean plate on a clean table in a clean dining room at the end of the day. But, the reality is that my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder makes me stew over the stupid things I have said or done, and unhappy events that I have experienced in my life. I sometimes relive one specific even from life over and over for a whole day. As I swipe a credit card I don't see the numbers, I see this event. As I hang up the gasoline nozzle I see this event. As I change diapers, make dinner, all the while this event is replaying in my head. It's very difficult to control and often makes me sad. But sometimes, I just want to be sad. It's okay with me to not be happy all the time.
The reality is that I go to bed at night with dishes from dinner still left on the table and the meal still left in the pot on the stove. The reality is that I leave my son in his overnight diaper until late morning because sometimes I just don't get around to it. The reality is that I eat BROWNIES and COOKIES for BREAKFAST. The reality is that mediocre is acceptable. The reality is that I don't particularly like being around other people, or at least a lot of people. The reality is that I do not work well with others. Nor, do I live well with others, for that matter. The reality is that this is LIFE and I don't want to pretend anymore. It's exhausting and I am done. I am going to be me. But, who is that? That is the purpose of this journal. And, just as everything should be done, I plan to go about this prayerfully and with the Lord on my side. But, I am human, VERY human. This journal will will help me and any other to face life. Because this is Real Life. . .in "Laymon's" terms.
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