Friday, August 3, 2012

Confessional

please see footnote*


I just love these little chats wherein I lay bare my soul. *cracks knuckles. rolls shoulders back*

Here we go. Did you know that at least three-fourths of my waking hours [possibly, very possible more like seven-eighths, or maaaaybe even nine-tenths] I spend thinking I might be going crazy. Racing thoughts is a symptom of mental illness. I think millions and millions of things constantly every second all the time and I often want a vacation from my own mind. And I think this makes me a genius or prime drug addict potential.

I have two toenails that fell off after my last downhill race, one of which ripped off while I was wake surfing in Utah Lake. Toenails falling off post-race is normal for me. Not normal was the infection I got in the one. I blame Utah Lake for that. I've spent the last several years since we got a boat lying to myself, telling myself that lake isn't the teeming bacterial cesspool that it is. No more. Utah Lake you are warm, but gross.

There are a few easy, easy homemaking tasks that I avoid because I have led myself to believe they are incredibly difficult. As I carry a laundry basket of clean clothes upstairs and into my room I often am thinking "this will be so hard to fold these clothes. So hard. The hardest thing I have ever done. The thought of folding the laundry is sucking the life force from me." And then I fold the laundry, which takes a total of five minutes, and immediately I give myself a mental pat on the back. "You are amazing! You can do hard things!" This is how I have survive the weary life of stay-at-home motherhood for nigh on thirteen years.

This whole summer I have only wanted to read long, epic, fantasy fairytales. I've read a few other books in between, and even have a late library book of a different genre that I am insisting to myself that I finish before returning, but really I just want to read another DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST.

Sometimes, when my emotions are too angry, too big, too explosive, I go to the creek across the street and throw rocks. I think of the thing that is upsetting me, I transfer that negative thought into the rock, the ugly, gray little rock and I throw it as hard as I can. Sometimes even with my left arm, which is hysterical because those arm muscles are practically nonexistent and definitely not coordinated. And then I end up laughing. Laughing so hard I usually cry. It. Is. Awesome. And perfect self-therapy.

*You may notice that the picture accompanying this post has nothing to do with anything in the post. Thanks for noticing.

13 comments:

  1. Even though the picture has nothing to with the post, it's hilarious. Thanks for sharing.

    And, thanks for sharing your confessional. I always enjoy reading it because it helps me realize I'm not the only person with problems. For some reason, I think I'm special and that no one, not even HF and Christ, love me and that whenever I do something bad, I can't be forgiven unlike everyone else in this world. But, when I read other people's struggles, it helps me realize I'm not special. I'm the same. Everything I do can be forgiven just as much and I can be loved just as much. So, thank you! :D

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  2. I am so glad I decided to take a break from working to check my google reader. I am at my client, laughing outloud at that picture. I can't wait to tell everyone I know about it. If only it were true... bacon at the push of a button. A machine will exist like that in my heaven.

    I think I'm crazy too. Don't ask Jason if I am, he'll give you strong reassurance that yes, yes, I am crazy.

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  3. I so appreciate your confessionals, your blog in general. I enjoy you! :) Thanks for being real. Love you Rachel!

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  4. Loevely post & lovely confessional. good for the soul.

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  5. I can relate to the laundry soooo much!!! Loved it.

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  6. I have many thoughts a day wondering when I'm officially going to go crazy. Like if I'm painting, I wonder what is stopping me from just throwing paint everywhere, on furniture, carpets, floor? If I'm frustrating with building something, what is stopping me from taking that hammer and driving a big hole in a wall? If I'm mad about my messy house, what is stopping me from making a huge pile in my backyard and burning it all? Oh, the list goes on. Ryan likes to call me Grandma Schwartz sometimes.

    Oh, and I wish I could turn off my thoughts. Since becoming a mom my ability to multi-think has gone astray. Sometimes I get so lost in my own thoughts that I don't even register things my kiddos are asking me (given, they do ask me a million things every day though.)

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    1. it's things like this that make me fear you, kathryn. don never knew my grandma schwartz, so he just calls me helen when he thinks i'm being too crazy.

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  7. I think Genius is the correct answer.

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  8. you're the coolest.

    i have racing thoughts too. we must be related. and i also want to read another daughter of the forest (thank you forever for sharing that book with me).

    that photo? hahaha

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    1. all week, whenever my mood starts to turn south, i look at that picture and just laugh and laugh. i like it as much as the double rainbow man.

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  9. Picture = hilarious

    I love your honesty. I often wish I had a Pensieve like Dumbledore, to store all of my thoughts when they are in disarray. Then I could sort them out and put them in order and feel at peace again.Yes, I am a nerd.

    Have you found anything close to Daughter of the Forest this summer???

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  10. So glad I am not the only one who thinks they are going crazy. Water pooled in any size gives me the creeps. If it is a stream or a river and has any flowing motion at all, than I deem it okay water to get in. It is a weird little phobia I have of water.

    Perfect picture!

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  11. I would love to write confessions like this but when I sit down to type I can't think of anything. I think of them when I am doing things like driving and then can't remember it later. I guess that is confession #1 - I can't remember anything.

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