It has been a brutal first week back after vacation.
I am beat!
When my kids describe someone as 'beat' they mean ugly. I feel ugly lately too. Which isn't great for my sex drive. Or self confidence. Or my attitude toward anything, really. My husband was quite 'handsy' this morning, and when he gets 'handsy' it gets him very ready to have sex, and I just could not take advantage of that magnificence. He wanted me to climb up and ride it, and while I made excuses that we didn't have time (both had somewhere to be at 8fuckingthirty this SATURDAY morning) because I'd need a shower and didn't have time for a post-coital shower, and also I had to pee too much to fuck (both these excuses were absolutely true--I don't lie to Aaron), the reality was that the reason that was more pressing than time or bladder was the paralyzing self consciousness I was suffering this morning. The thing is that I'd already told him of this too, but sometimes it seems like he thinks the cure for my poor body image is to devour my body--almost to prove that I am attractive and desirable and beautiful. It is a nice sentiment, and often times helps me by bolstering my confidence in our chemistry and compatibility, today it only made me more self conscious. Every spot his hands touched made me cringe inwardly--wishing that spot was...less of a spot, i guess. slimmer, smoother, tighter, you name it. Oh, and bigger and fuller in the case of my breasts of course.
I think about last spring. How sexy and alive I felt. Of course these doubts lingered underneath, too, but... No. Who am I kidding? These doubts were rampant then too. I am (VERY) often relieved that I am married--meaning that I don't have to date, don't have to RISK, don't have to get naked in front of new people!
What was I supposed to be writing about though? I certainly hadn't intended to get so detailed there about the recent insecurities, or the recent resurgence of the old insecurities...
Oh, the week back to work. Rough. On many levels. I'm certainly physically exhausted. Last night was friday, my night to stay up late, do whatever I wanted, enjoy myself, etc! I ended i ended up in bed by 8:45. LAME!
And it is one of the first weeks that's had me looking at where else I can apply to work. Ugh. Even as I type that I feel traitorous. I really do like my school. The colleagues have been incredibly supportive. I feel a real affection for the kids, too (most of them), I rally do.
But I wonder if I'm not cut out for it. Obviously. Have we met? Of course.
Did I tell you about my New Rosies? One day after therapy I was telling Aaron what my therapist had been saying about my issues. He was in the other room, though and the train of thought hadn't been exactly straight. It was, as many of our conversations do, a meandering journey of free association and random interjections of things we'd been meaning to tell the other but kept forgetting... Anyhow, I said something about my Neuroses (plural, not just one neurosis). He asked me to repeat the phrase and I did, moving on quickly to the main point of what I had been saying.
He was quiet as he puzzled it out, finally exclaiming: "Oh! Neuroses!"
"Yeah, what'd you think I said?"
"It dounded like you said something about your 'new rosies', both times you said it, and I just couldn't figure out why you were talking about 'new rosies'. Like, what happened to your 'old rosies', and why are we making roses sound so cutesy?"
Needless to say, "New Rosies" has stuck.
One of my New Rosies is to believe that I am not worthy of things. Jobs, accolades, love, etc. So naturally I feel like I'm not cut out for the job of 8th grade english teacher at this school which is under a microscope--an underachieving school that needs a wonder-team and a miracle to turn around and pull through before the state takes it over.
But here's the tricky thing about those damn rosies-- how do I figure out when it's a mental issue and when there's some truth to it? If everything is my neurosis, how can I ever trust when something might be an ACTUAL problem. Like, what if I really am not the right person for this incredibly important task? I want to be the one who helps these kids. But what if I can't? What if I don't have it and it might be something I can't learn(or can't learn fast enough)?
I've gotta run--got a jazz concert to go see--my niece has a trumpet solo!
Anyway. To summarize: tired, tired of my self-image, tired of working for a living (get used to it, right?!), tired of feeling inadequate, tired of feeling ... ug... tired of FEEEEEEEELING! lol.
But loving the spring, loving the weather, loving many, many many things! Wishing I had time to garden! But loving the spring!
I am beat!
When my kids describe someone as 'beat' they mean ugly. I feel ugly lately too. Which isn't great for my sex drive. Or self confidence. Or my attitude toward anything, really. My husband was quite 'handsy' this morning, and when he gets 'handsy' it gets him very ready to have sex, and I just could not take advantage of that magnificence. He wanted me to climb up and ride it, and while I made excuses that we didn't have time (both had somewhere to be at 8fuckingthirty this SATURDAY morning) because I'd need a shower and didn't have time for a post-coital shower, and also I had to pee too much to fuck (both these excuses were absolutely true--I don't lie to Aaron), the reality was that the reason that was more pressing than time or bladder was the paralyzing self consciousness I was suffering this morning. The thing is that I'd already told him of this too, but sometimes it seems like he thinks the cure for my poor body image is to devour my body--almost to prove that I am attractive and desirable and beautiful. It is a nice sentiment, and often times helps me by bolstering my confidence in our chemistry and compatibility, today it only made me more self conscious. Every spot his hands touched made me cringe inwardly--wishing that spot was...less of a spot, i guess. slimmer, smoother, tighter, you name it. Oh, and bigger and fuller in the case of my breasts of course.
I think about last spring. How sexy and alive I felt. Of course these doubts lingered underneath, too, but... No. Who am I kidding? These doubts were rampant then too. I am (VERY) often relieved that I am married--meaning that I don't have to date, don't have to RISK, don't have to get naked in front of new people!
What was I supposed to be writing about though? I certainly hadn't intended to get so detailed there about the recent insecurities, or the recent resurgence of the old insecurities...
Oh, the week back to work. Rough. On many levels. I'm certainly physically exhausted. Last night was friday, my night to stay up late, do whatever I wanted, enjoy myself, etc! I ended i ended up in bed by 8:45. LAME!
And it is one of the first weeks that's had me looking at where else I can apply to work. Ugh. Even as I type that I feel traitorous. I really do like my school. The colleagues have been incredibly supportive. I feel a real affection for the kids, too (most of them), I rally do.
But I wonder if I'm not cut out for it. Obviously. Have we met? Of course.
Did I tell you about my New Rosies? One day after therapy I was telling Aaron what my therapist had been saying about my issues. He was in the other room, though and the train of thought hadn't been exactly straight. It was, as many of our conversations do, a meandering journey of free association and random interjections of things we'd been meaning to tell the other but kept forgetting... Anyhow, I said something about my Neuroses (plural, not just one neurosis). He asked me to repeat the phrase and I did, moving on quickly to the main point of what I had been saying.
He was quiet as he puzzled it out, finally exclaiming: "Oh! Neuroses!"
"Yeah, what'd you think I said?"
"It dounded like you said something about your 'new rosies', both times you said it, and I just couldn't figure out why you were talking about 'new rosies'. Like, what happened to your 'old rosies', and why are we making roses sound so cutesy?"
Needless to say, "New Rosies" has stuck.
One of my New Rosies is to believe that I am not worthy of things. Jobs, accolades, love, etc. So naturally I feel like I'm not cut out for the job of 8th grade english teacher at this school which is under a microscope--an underachieving school that needs a wonder-team and a miracle to turn around and pull through before the state takes it over.
But here's the tricky thing about those damn rosies-- how do I figure out when it's a mental issue and when there's some truth to it? If everything is my neurosis, how can I ever trust when something might be an ACTUAL problem. Like, what if I really am not the right person for this incredibly important task? I want to be the one who helps these kids. But what if I can't? What if I don't have it and it might be something I can't learn(or can't learn fast enough)?
I've gotta run--got a jazz concert to go see--my niece has a trumpet solo!
Anyway. To summarize: tired, tired of my self-image, tired of working for a living (get used to it, right?!), tired of feeling inadequate, tired of feeling ... ug... tired of FEEEEEEEELING! lol.
But loving the spring, loving the weather, loving many, many many things! Wishing I had time to garden! But loving the spring!
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