Don't Forget to be Awesome.
My hubby sends me that print in a text every other week or so. He sends it to me when I need that extra push. He knows exactly when to send it and, pretty much every time, I cry a little inside. He knows when I'm having a rough time. It makes me sad.
I wish I could write and say that I am 100% good all the time. Unfortunately, that would be a lie. More often than not, I need to convince myself to be awesome. I need to get my brain right and not let it attack me. I need to take a little white pill so that I'm not too much. Too sad. Too anxious. Too overwhelmed. It helps me to feel normal or what I think normal is - that little white pill pulls the wool over my brain and lets me breathe a little. So when I forget to refill my prescription, it gets difficult to live in this brain of mine.
Case in point: On Saturday, I woke up from a nap and immediately felt guilty. While I was taking a nap, my hubby had done laundry, put the linoleum back in the pantry and nailed in the shelves we had to take off last weekend. He had done so much, not rested one moment, while I was lazy and slept. Again. I take a lot of naps on the weekends. They aren't 30-45 minute naps either. Sometimes I can sleep for at least four hours straight. It's bad. Or at least I feel really bad about them.
The thing is, my hubby had no problem with me taking a nap. He doesn't mind when I need rest. I'm the one that thinks he does. I'll wake up from these naps and ridicule myself. So, don't take naps, right? I wish it were that easy. Asleep or awake, I read into things and make myself think that I'm an awful person. I make myself believe that my little family hates me and wished I weren't around. My husband starts noticing the episode begin within me...and he tells me it's going to be okay. He tells me he loves me. He knows how to bring me back. Every. Single. Time.
He reminds me to be awesome. Thank God for him.
I constantly hate how I am. I don't know why I attack myself. It's pretty exhausting and I am tired of it all. I'm tired of these attacks. I just want to be normal. I don't want to suffer from depression or anxiety. I just want a day that I can just be...be okay...be happy without trying. I'd love to live a life where I don't need to take that little white pill. What is that like?
I don't want to try to be awesome. I just want to be awesome.
I needed to write this all out. I needed to get all these thoughts out of my head to make room for normalcy.
I'm ready to be awesome, Hubby. I am.