To those who think I am put together.
Let me tell you, put together is not one of the phrases I would commonly use to describe me. But I am so grateful that you see me as such. I really am.
But lets talk for a minute.
I didn't brush my teeth today. I forgot. I was in such a hurry to get out the door and do what needed to be done, I just forgot. Part of that is because I keep my toothbrush in the other bathroom because the one I get ready in is still in shambles from when we moved....almost a year ago. I have yet to put it all together. And so I do my hair and make up in one room and brush my teeth in another. I wish I could say this was the first time. But its not. Thank heavens for gum!!!
I also didn't change my babies diaper this morning. I got her dressed and made the conscious decision to keep her in her overnight diaper. It didn't feel that full and I frankly just didn't feel like fighting with her. She is a fighter. I was not in the mood to play. So I waited until I had to leave the house....which also could have played a part in the not brushing my teeth. Because I was too occupied running around the living room chasing a half naked toddler.
I have body issues. When I was in high school I had an eating disorder. Not diagnosed. Although, had I been open about what was going on it should have been. I didn't eat. I blamed it on being sick, which I was. But it didn't need to be as bad as it was. Looking in the mirror and seeing your ribs and still thinking you aren't good enough is not a good thing. Those thoughts still creep in every once in a while, especially now that I have to force myself to eat since I am never hungry. The difference now is that I no longer see myself as fat. So that's good.
Now, I hate my body for other reasons. It failed me during birth of not one, but two babies. It tried to kill me. It created the environment where I was given the choice of life or babies. I obviously chose life, but the price I paid sometimes feels like too much. Quinn wasn't supposed to be my last. I have a scar that reminds me of sadness, nothing else, just sadness. I hate it. I hate that my uterus was taken away. I cry daily. Sometimes little tears, sometimes I'm bawling in the shower. But I cry.
I have had to search for my identity. I am a mom, a wife, a daughter, a nurse. But who am I. Am I enough? My insecurities can sometimes be too much to handle. So I stuff them away to process later. I feel like I am failing my children. Multiple times a day.
I don't know what to wear. Ever. I want to be stylish and cute. But I often times just revert to the same 3 tshirts because it will blend in.
I am plagued with who knows how many mental health issues. I have only been diagnosed with PTSD and depression. But now that I research more, I am pretty sure anxiety and OCD should be on the top of the list. I have horrible intrusive thoughts. Thoughts that are scary. Thoughts of me drowning the bath, or driving off an overpass. I would never do those things. But the thoughts still pop up. I never use the first stall in a public bathroom because that is where someone would go if the have to throw up. I have a horrible fear of others vomiting on me. It almost stopped me from being a nurse. And it is the one thing that makes me want to quit my job in the ER. But I just suck it up and try and pray I won't run out of the room and out of the building like I have done before. I question if I said the right thing, if I didn't say enough, if people think I am good enough. Self doubt is big in my brain.
So while you see this person, who looks put together and has everything figured out. Rest assured. I am just as messed up as everyone else in this world. Society makes everyone look like they know what they are doing. But really, everyone has flaws. Everyone has their shadows. These are just a few of mine.
But rest assured, I love that you think that. I guess I must be doing something right, right?
Alicia
