Category: Crazy Talk

Fire Meet Gasoline

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Life, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?

Have you ever had a moment where you’re like “eff this, I’m going to move into a hobbit hole & cut off communication with the outside world forever?”

Because that’s me right now (well, not really. I don’t eat enough to be a hobbit & I like human interaction too much. Also, living in a hole would freak me out because claustrophobic).  

I feel like I’m failing in my professional life. My rep sent me the most disrespectful email, complete with claims that I’m irresponsible because I didn’t come in on my days off & explain something. The other quit because I am “mean.” It’s impossible to work when your team respects you so little that they feel comfortable calling you names in the body of a corporate email. But I feel like quitting will seem like I can’t hack it. So, I cry because I had to leave my kid’s birthday party to deal with something that I’m not 100% sure means I’m a bad manager. But two weeks in & my team says I’m a bad manager. I’m too hard on them. I expect too much. I don’t really know what to do. But, maybe I’m too sensitive because I actually take it personally. It’s reached a point where I loathe my job. And the logical part of my brain says, “if you hate it, quit!” But I don’t want to be a bad person & leave my company in flux. Sigh. 

However, my week of stupid has helped me realize something (actually, I realized it last night after I met Seth Rollins. None of this has anything to do with anything, I just wanted to point out that I met Seth Rollins, because I am a giant child);

 

I AM SUCH A GEEK
 
Maybe it’s because I’m a woman & we’re taught to apologize at work a lot, but I struggle to accept my feelings, or my difficult days as valid. 

I would like to stress that this is not a learned behaviour from my inner circle. I have great people in my life & they love me. This is just a weird quirk I’ve noticed. As my professional life continues to challenge me & I continue to struggle to settle into a routine here, I find I don’t talk to my friends or love as I should. In fact, I’ll do everything but; I’ll make small talk, I’ll crack wise, anything but express fear that I’ve made a mistake, or my writing career isn’t going well & my professional life is a mess & I feel like a Mighty Morphin Failure Ranger. I always make an excuse. Today, while talking to one of my best friends who finally demanded I talk about why I haven’t been texting much or talking much or whatever, he asked if I had called my beau to express why I’m so frustrated with my job & that I’m lonely & homesick & I basically said he’s working & busy & felt badly enough about his schedule & I shouldn’t bother him. This isn’t something he does to make me feel that way;  If anything; he’s the MHC whisperer. He loves me even when I’m being overly dramatic & whiny. He gets me when I’m in a tizzy & knows how to make me feel better without being a condescending dickbag. He’s the one person on this planet who knows how to deal with bitchy, frustrated me in a way that makes me feel loved & respected.  But I simply said “he’s so busy & he works so hard & I’m not going to bother him with my overreacting to my professional annoyances & my missing my friends. These things are stupid.”

This applies to all of my friends. Damanda is busy at the law office, Melissa is swamped with work & her own life. Sarah is working with her husband to get her business going. Gleason Table has a family & a power plant. I can’t bother them with my petty annoyances at my non-important job. They have important stuff to deal with! All of my friends are amazing. They would totally listen to me rant. As would my brother. I’d do the same for them. But instead, I’m like “Nah, I got this,” and then cry. 

Maybe it’s because for years I felt I had to cultivate an image of someone who never gets angry or upset. Maybe it’s because my alleged best friends stopped talking to me when I went through a weird phase a few years ago where I was so dissatisfied with my professional & personal life that I just became a huge downer. They basically told me had I faked it & just kept my feelings to myself, we’d still be friends. Maybe I just need to feel like I can handle everything myself, like no one can kick you while you’re down if no one knows you’re down. Or somewhere, I just decided that everything I feel that isn’t happy is actually stupid & unimportant & therefore isn’t worth discussing. People love positive MHC. I love her too & I strive to be that person, but because I like who I am; the rest of y’all can deal. I am awesome. But pretending that I don’t have weeks where I feel scared, lonely, inadequate or insecure isn’t good for me. These emotions are actually normal. It’s okay to feel them. They are valid. It’s okay to talk to someone you love about why you hate everything & let them help you figure out your next move. It doesn’t make you less bad ass, I swear. 

Now, you’re probably thinking “MHC, this was a terrible life lesson, you’re just writing, you’ll never actually give up on the idea that you’re the eternal optimist or actually build a support system!”

But, admitting you need to work on something is step one. I need to recognize that being grumpy does not detract from my eternal optimist, happy sunshine shines from my behind personality. Not to mention walls that one has put up aren’t so easily torn down. They come down slowly, a few bricks at a time. And I’ve done fairly well in letting people in past them, but there’s always a couple of bricks we hide behind. And those who love me will understand that I’ll probably write about my feelings before I’m ready to talk to them. They get it. They’ll let me sort out my frustrations on my own & let me decide when I need someone to talk to & help me figure out how to get through & that I need to muddle on my own for a bit. But they respect that this is my way & to let me figure out for myself what I need. 

So, I’m going to sort out my professional life while also learning how to sort out that it’s okay to be mad, sad, or just plain bitchy. Maybe I’ll watch Inside Out with the littles & learn what happens when feelings have feelings, because feelings have feelings too. 

  

Over My Head

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Current Events, Dorkdom, Douchers, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

I hate all forms of negativity. 

It drives me nuts. I will actually will myself to be happy, even when everything around me is awful & stupid & I want to punch something. This has been the last three weeks of my life. There are random snippets of awesome mixed in with stupid, but the more I fixate on proving some kind of point that I’m totally kicking ass at this “I moved across the country, now watch me be a super success,” the more I want to sit down & cry. 

Literally me.
 
I’m tired of fighting with the dad as he lays the pity trips on the girls about how he might not come for Xmas, because he can’t afford it & has no job (seven counts of sexual harassment & misconduct will do that), even though I’m paying to fly him out here for Xmas. Every extra cent I have goes to ensuring he can see his kids. I even offered him a way to never pay child support again if he wanted to move closer & be a parent. But then I get the blast of how I don’t care about him & I’m selfish & boo hoo & I know it shouldn’t, but it gets to me. I get personally offended when he doesn’t call on the first day of school or when he tries to worm his way out of visiting, making the kids cry. Like, why can’t you put aside your pettiness & be a freaking dad? I know I shouldn’t care, but I keep trying to help him be involved & I am always the bad guy.

Then there’s my job, that adds more responsibility (as now I may be traveling to our sister store twice a month), which I should be grateful for, but I’m just tired. This means more time away from home. This means more time away from writing, which frustrates me so, as I’m working so hard on an article that may never see the light of day because my editor doesn’t return my emails & won’t give me an official Greenlight to work on it, but wants me to write it. I’m jumping through hoops, so I blog more almost for validation, like please someone think I’m talented. My schedule lends me little free time, so I spent most of my day off scrambling to put a birthday together for my six year old because I had literally done nothing. That brings working mom guilt. I used to be good at time management. I used to be queen of making my kids birthdays the best ever. I barely have my kid’s party planned & I still don’t own a table. Oh, and I forgot to make anything. Like, at all. It’s in two days. In the age of Pinterest moms, I’m pretty sure I won’t be winning any mom of the year awards any time soon. 

And of course, this is all exacerbated by the fact that I’m lonely af. My birthday is in 10 days & it’s the first time in six years I’m not working/in school/caring for a newborn. I know four people in this city. One is super pregnant. The others are working (& you literally cannot be upset with someone because they have to work, you just can’t. It’s so rude). I know the kids & I will have a blast (until WWE ruins my life later on in the evening), but it just makes me feel so incredibly lonely.  

*sniffles*
 

I try to pretend it doesn’t bother me, but I’m just so freaking lonely. Sometimes it feels like my boyfriend is my only companion & then I feel guilty because he has friends & a life & I really don’t. And I don’t want to be a drain on him or rely on him as the only adult I spend time with. It’s bad enough I feel like a broke ass because he pays for everything & I would like to feel like I somehow improve his life & make him happy & not poor. But I miss having my inner circle. I want my best friends with me on my birthday. I don’t want to wait until November to see them (if I can swing it, as I’m also trying to make sure the dad can see the girls for Xmas), I just want my best friends here for my birthday…

…I want to go home. 

Yes, I’m a huge Debbie Downer right now & that actually pisses me off. I hate negativity. I’m the happiest person in the whole wide world. So there. But I thought this would all be easy. I’d be a good cell phone boss lady, and right now I don’t feel very good at it. I’d get a writing job easy peasy. I’d make friends like I did in London. But I feel like I’m sinking under a ever growing tidal wave of self doubt & loneliness & I just want to feel like I belong here or that my presence in this stupid cow province meant anything.  

I also understand that I’ll be fine in a couple of days. I’m super bad ass & I don’t need anyone to make me feel better. I just feel guilty that I was so unprepared for my kid’s birthday & lonely & kind of like an island. But even the happiest girl in the world is allowed to feel sad, or homesick, or like an island in the universe with no one else on it & the rum is gone.   

But the fact that I’m whining actually pisses me off more than my recognizing that these feelings are perfectly valid.  Hence the late night blog rant. I recognize that it’s okay to feel this way, I just won’t allow it, because I am amazing & I will just power through & smile like the happy little creature that I am, because that’s the expectation I’ve set for myself & I’m determined to succeed here, even if right now it feels like I’m drowning. 

  

Wildest Dreams

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Life, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

I can only describe this week in one word;

Stupid.

Yes, this week was stupid.

Every single thing about my week (professionally) was super stupid. Between hiring and interviewing and being challenged by my editor, I honestly just kind of wanted to punch something in the face. Add in the realization that I’ve gained 10lbs since I moved here because my fitness mojo has been all off and you had a down right bitchy MHC (just ask one of my reps when he told me “I think I know why you’re gaining all of your weight back,” while I was eating a piece of banana bread. He’s still alive, I promise).

Fortunately, my spirits were lifted today with a series of events that made today not stupid, from snuggles with my five year old, and early access Pumpkin Spice Latte and a helpful pep talk with Matty the Bastard, my journalistic BFF. I even got my replacement cell phone boss lady phone, complete with a screen protector, because apparently you break ONE phone with your ass and Sony doesn’t trust you or something.

 

DO NOT put a Sony Z3 in your back pocket. Just DON’T DO IT
 
I guess I didn’t realize how much pressure I was putting on myself to be successful, and that caused me to make rookie mistakes that a nine year journalism veteran like me should know not to make. The hiring process at my store had me on edge. I mean, hiring the right person feels like it should be some kind of precise science and hiring the wrong person could spell disaster. And if I screw up either of these things, then I pretty much uprooted my family for nothing!

(If you’re thinking, Gosh MHC, I feel like you’re being a little bit melodramatic. I’m going to assume you’re new)

This made me pretty much the least tolerable human being for most of this week. I don’t like venting to people about why my life feels stupid. Hell, I don’t even like it when my significant other tries to pay for milk (although it’s very sweet and I need to learn to be more appreciative of his attempts to do nice things for me and not just flip out because I’m independent God damnit), so I’m especially not going to go crying like a little baby because I’m feeling overwhelmed about stuff that is largely made up and actually stupid. I need to handle stupid stuff on my own, without being melodramatic or crying. Why? Because I’m a grown ass woman, or so I’ve been told.

Instead, I decided to focus on finding GOOD in this situation. This involved changing my thinking. If this magazine doesn’t work out, there are others. I wouldn’t be the first writer to realize the first magazine offer I got isn’t the right one for me. I need to think of my editor calling me out as a positive thing. After all, she must see some potential in my writing to challenge me to do better. Otherwise, she would have just cut me loose. Freelancers are easy to come by. I should be grateful that she is trying to get my best out of me, because when she gets it, I’ll be a better writer! It’s okay that I’ve gained a little, this helps me remember why I started going to crossfit in the first place; to get in better shape and be healthier. Maybe I needed that bitchslap from the scale to get some motivation mojo, as I’ve been so bummed that the new gym isn’t as welcoming as my old one. Also, the girls will be in school, so I won’t feel guilty that I missed a month of their lives so I feel like if I go to the gym before work, that makes me a bad mom.If anything, I’ll be teaching them good habits that make me a good mom. I was chosen to be the boss, I need to act like it and start making decisions and standing by them.

But most importantly, I need to stop thinking that everything I do here, good or bad, means this whole thing was for nothing. I did this to better my family and that’s what I’m doing. I’m gaining management experience, which I can use to continue to move up in the world and earn a better living for my daughters. I’m growing as a writer and improving every day. I’ve made some rad new friends and I’m really happy with the current state of my life. I just need to stop worrying that if I don’t become the most successful person that I know, then I’ve somehow ruined my life. My success as a person is not defined by how quickly I became the best writer in Western Canada. My success as a person is defined by my being a good person and role model for my daughters, so that’s what I’ll do.

Success is rad, but success comes when you work for it, not stress over it. So, I’ll put in the work and the effort and the success will come when the work is done and in the interim, I’ll take stupid days and find the positive, even if it seems like there is none to be found.

  

Show Me Your Fangs

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Fitnesslicious, Just Fun, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

I have a confession; I waste a lot of time on social media. 

When all of your friends are two time zones away, I get lonely, so I waste time on social media. My favourite places to waste time are on George & Brad Takei’s respective FB pages. Today he posted a hilarious meme that had me cracking up;

  
Don’t worry, all the Tumblr Social Justice Warriors were out in full force, explaining how Barbie was designed to fulfill men’s fantasies & create an unrealistic standard for women & He-Man was half alien (no he wasn’t) & little boys know the difference between a doll’s body & a real one because it’s make believe & girls shouldn’t have Barbies or Princess a Dolls because they teach them how to be damsels in distress. 

Let me tell you that all of this is bullshit. 

When I was a little girl, I played with Barbie. I had Dr. Barbie, Rock Star Barbie, and yes, I was gifted Reporter Barbie at the age of six. I didn’t see Barbie’s waist or hair & think “I have body image issues!” I was excited that she had a bad ass job & after work, she could dress up to go out with my Jordan Knight doll. 

Anyone who thinks Barbie is somehow hurting little girls makes me sad, because Barbie gets a bum rap. Barbie has had 150 careers, owns her own house, her own car, stables, an RV, a moped, among other things. No disrespect to the men out there that do respect women and their career choices, but I’m pretty sure a doll designed to fulfill the desires of men wouldn’t be an independent bad ass who owns her own stuff & works hard. What I learned from Barbie is that girls can do damn near anything they want. My daughters play with Barbie (although the younger two prefer Ever After High) and they always liked that Barbie was a vet, or a nurse, or a pilot. Yes, there are cooking sets, or beach dolls, but all people eat & go to the beach. That’s not sexist; that’s liking to eat & go to the beach. 

 

even Barbie understands the importance of converged journalism
 
What grinds my gears is the idea that boys wouldn’t feel body image pressure from a toy, but girls are fragile flowers that must be protected. Boys have body image issues too. While I don’t feel that the media or celebrities have the power to make you feel badly about yourself, as you choose how you feel about yourself & have the power to change it if you don’t like it, saying a little boy wouldn’t feel inadequate because it’s make believe play (you know, like BARBIE) is silly. Personally, I don’t get it because everyone on Eterna looked like He-Man, even Bo, that dick that pined for Adora. Maybe Eterna’s schools have a heavy focus on PE. 

 
Every super hero for boys is ripped. Did Captain America have the dad bod? Nope. What about Chris Pratt, who women say “got hot” when he got in shape for Guardians of the Galaxy? Men are bombarded with images of the triangle body. Again, I don’t think a magazine or a celebrity can give you body image issues, you have them because of you & only you can learn to embrace them or fix them, I’ve said this before. But if you did believe that, then why wouldn’t you believe that a toy could also affect a little boy as Barbie would a girl? 

  
At the end of the day, no toy, no magazine, no celebrity can make you feel badly. No words can hurt you unless that’s how you already feel about yourself. People call me fat, crazy, whatever, but I choose to love myself & focus on being healthy with a eating healthy & the odd treats in moderation & Crossfit. Words only hurt if you give them the power to hurt. But if He-Man is make believe & kids can’t learn body image issues from toys, let’s stop saying it about Barbie, as she’s cut from the same plastic. 

and we can finally focus on something important!

Renegades

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Current Events, Dear Blank, Douchers, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, When Things Suck Hard

I don’t like to talk about my personal life. 

Mostly because it’s mine. 

I’m sure that doesn’t make a lot of sense to anyone else, but it does to me. What is mine I like to keep mine. My personal life never goes on FB. Only a handful of people know when I am seeing someone. Any blog posts pertaining to my love life do not get shared on my personal or blog’s Facebook pages. Years ago, I got burned when I was open about my love life. Now I am not. I am far more reserved. I save that part of my life for me & only those closest to me. I don’t need to publicly shout from the rooftops that I am with someone & in love. As long as I’m willing to introduce you to those who are closest to me (my children), then you’re special to me. The rest I like to do slowly, in baby steps, so that I don’t feel in over my head. I once dove in too fast & was engaged after three weeks & married a little over a year later. I always felt like I was drowning, doing too much, too soon & ignoring the red flags. When I was here before, I knew I was with the right person, but I didn’t understand that you can know you’ve met your lobster but not be ready for the major steps. Maybe I’m a lobster that likes to wade in the ocean & not get flung into the pot. Truthfully, I like to let my partner take the lead on major steps & I can let them know how I feel as we go. I like to know their comfort level beforehand. I’ll have a timetable for the next logical step (ie; meet my parents) & unless they take the lead & suggest it much sooner, I’ll bring it up then. If that makes sense. Mostly because I want to do it right; quickly isn’t always “right.” Comfort level is key & mine is “wading pool.”

 

Everything needs a random Friends reference
 
Also, my taste in men is generally horrible. I once joked that I was going to buy a shirt that said “I attract losers.” I dated men that didn’t see my worth. I dated men who weren’t there for me when I needed them. I dated abusive psychos & my marriages ended when he tried to smother me with a pillow. I generally pick emotionally abusive or generally horrible people, with the exception of my current love, who was always the right person, just never at the right time. But it is now & it’s wonderful. But I also want to do things in the right way, so I’m more mindful of giving space. I’m more mindful of making sure we take things slowly & do things right & when we are ready, not just jump in, because this lobster likes surf. But I’m also protective of my choices & when those closest to me question my affection for someone & my willingness to give them another chance, I get annoyed. I’m a grown up, I know the risks & I am fine. But, I guess it’s the reasons that annoy me. 

“He won’t talk to you every day. He doesn’t even have the decency to send you a good morning text every day. That means he’s not that into you.”

“He’ll have free time & go out with the guys & NOT EVEN INVITE YOU & then leave again because he’ll rather be single & I’ll tell you I told you so…again. You should be his only priority, and you know you’re not.”

Or my favourite;

“You’re dumb & this is gonna blow up because he has no respect for you & I’m going to laugh at you when it does.”

Barf.  

Not all. Not unless it follows with “I am on my way with Starbucks,” because prioroties.
 
Nope. My boyfriend & I do not talk every day. Sometimes I’m busy & doing my own thing, as is he. Besides, we are grown adults, who needs someone to check in every day? Blah. I am not his only priority. He isn’t mine. My number one and two priorities are my daughters & my writing career. Everything else is secondary. If I can’t make someone my number one priority, how could I ask that of someone else? All I ask is that I am one of your priorities, as you are mine. 
Besides, cutesy words are highly overrated. 

(Before you say “MHC, you write novels in greeting cards”. I sure do. Those are actual feelings. Canned sentiment is not)

There are entire webpages dedicated to templates of “Good morning beautiful,” text messages, in case you were wondering about the romance level. It’s not original; nor is it romantic. It doesn’t mean he thought of you, it’s part of the dude playbook. If he wants to go out without me, go out! Have fun. My love is based on free will. This way, I know the choices he makes when it comes to me are 100% his & I respect them. I understand the concern of my inner circle, as historical precedent predicts a sudden and swift exit, and he’s not telling me what I used to think I needed to hear every second to make me feel secure. But I am secure & I know I’m with the right person for a great many reasons, which likely sound so stupid to my friends, but make perfect sense to me;

  • He knows my Starbucks order & brings it to me every time he sees me, & even makes sure my name is spelled correctly on the cup, because I am convinced that they don’t spell my name wrong. 
  • He brought me ice cube trays because I mentioned I didn’t have any & would have to pick some up later to make iced tea. 
  • He has remembered my favourite colour, book & movie for four years. 
  • He laughs at jokes I’ve told a million times. 
  • He listens to me babble away & is almost amused by my obsessive need to be the best at everything. 
  • He sits with me at the hospital when I’m dealing with a family emergency & makes stupid faces at me because he knows I won’t listen to his attempts to help anyway. But he doesn’t leave the room to go smoke, or go home when he’s obviously exhausted. He just sits & makes dumb faces or tells dumb jokes so I’ll laugh for 10 seconds. 

When he asked to be in my life, I asked why I should believe him & he said he would show me. Words are great, but actions are everything. I set timetables to make sure we are ready & he bends them to show me is ready & committed to being with me. He shows up at my door after time apart to show me that he missed me. Any one can type out a text & not hit send until morning, but someone invested will be there when you need them, or remember something stupid you said that would make your day brighter. 

 

I am in love with both
 
I may have terrible taste in men (or so I’m told), but I know I would rather be with the man who brings me ice cube trays than the guy who says the right words. I’ve been with men who know how to say the right words, but they never did the right things. Now, he sometimes says the wrong thing (not lately, but it’s happened), but despite how my friend sees it, I am a priority. He shows me I am a priority in a million little ways; with his time, with his level of commitment to me, by respecting my comfort zones, & even finding it oddly flattering when I write about him (which I never truly feel comfortable doing, but I’m overtired & had an idea which likely read better in my brain) & often texts me to tell me what he thought; once in such a sweet way it rendered me speechless (for the first time in my entire life). 

When given the choice ladies; pick the guy that brings ice cube trays over pretty words. Or if they can do both; pick that guy. The guy who brings the ice cube trays was listening to you & knew you needed them & wanted to make your day easier. That will make you smile far more than a cutesy message (although they can be nice). My father always said pick a man of substance, not a man who knows smooth lines, so I did. Over & over again.  And of all the choices I make in life (which are mostly terrible), it’s the best (not parenting or journalism) one I’ve ever made. 

  

Bright

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, When Things Suck Hard

Have you ever been happy, but not that happy? 

I’m not unhappy, or sad or anything, & I’m still generally happy with my life. But, I have been in this weird funk for the last few days. Almost mopey even. Even listening to the Overlord’s favourite song on repeat hasn’t helped. 

I wonder if it’s because I’ve been doing nothing but work & prepare my house except for two days this past month. Maybe it’s because my District Manager has expectations for me I don’t think I can live up to & the more I’m prepped to take over my store as manager, the more unsure I am that this is the right position for me. I’m excited about my latest article, an entertainment piece on an up and coming Canadian artist, but even my ever growing cow province portfolio isn’t making me upbeat. Can fatigue do this? After all, I haven’t been sleeping well. My youngest isn’t sleeping well because she doesn’t like when I go to work, she wants to be with me every second. So, after she falls asleep, I wrack my brain with trying to help her adjust, as well as what more I can do for them, for work, my life, etc. So, perhaps the lack of sleep caught up to me?

Maybe. There’s also that I’m homesick af. 

When you’re a person who thrives on social interaction, taking yourself far away from everyone you know maybe isn’t the best idea. I get so lonely, because I’m used to having friends around. I never really appreciated my break time chats with my friend/former coworker, or when my friend Bonnie would randomly invite me to lunch. I stayed away from home (Windsor) for so long to avoid someone I didn’t actually want to avoid, but was afraid of being let down if I went home & I didn’t see them, that I find myself missing it. It’s not a person or a thing I miss. I miss the feeling that I am “home.” 

 

The Detroit Skyline reminds me of home
 
It’s just stupid things, like wanting chicken wings & fries & a pint without having to check Yelp, because I know Hurricane’s & the Loose Goose have them & they’re yummy. It’s the idea that if I wanted to go out for said chicken wings, I could call Sarah & Nic, or Rena & we would just go (Damanda would just eat fries). Now…I know two people & we rarely have days off at the same time. It’s this weird feeling of “I don’t actually belong here & I’m kind of a floating island that no one knows & I want this place to feel like home.” I know it will, once I find familiar haunts (besides a lake) & meet people & maybe make friends with someone. But how does one make friends when they only have two coworkers & go to the gym? I’m so glad the girls have school, because adults trying to make friends sucks. 

 

my lake is really pretty though
 
Of course, I’m not completely alone. I have the girls. I have the two people I know. I have the person who I care more for than anyone else in the world. But I’m afraid that I’m heading towards a turn of events that feels like I’ve been there before (because I have…twice) & I know how they end. Spoiler alert: it never ends well for me. And no matter how many times I tell myself it’s not rational, it’s not going to happen this time because that’s what my gut instincts tell me, the far more emotional part of me, that sounds a lot like my best friend’s husband says “you’re dumb. You keep blindly whistling along, super happy & the ground is gonna fall out because you know what’s gonna happen next.” And no matter how much I focus on present tense, that nagging fear clings to me & I don’t like it. It just adds to my feeling of being an outsider. Because, as I’ve been reminded, if history repeats itself, I am completely on my own. I’ll have no support system to help me through, because they’re all waiting to say “I told you so.”

I was totally prepared for being far away until I actually was. Now I just feel like a spectator in the world I knew, spending way too much time on FB trying to feel connected, while simultaneously trying to feel like my new world is home. It’s weird; because I know if I was in my London house or home in Windsor, I’d probably just be doing the same thing; chilling with the littles, going to crossfit, blogging about my life. I guess it’s just a matter of building a life as we go. 

Fortunately, there are days off that I spend with the littles that things feel like they could be home (like when I finally got to see penguins or out audience with Taylor Swift) & I get excited because this could be home someday. It’s just not yet, & that’s a weird feeling. 

  

That’s What You Get

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Dear Blank, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?

I am starting to think that I am simply afraid to be happy.

I understand that all humans have a basic right to be happy. I am generally a happy person. I find ways to be happy even when everything is actually stupid. I pride myself on this. But when things play out in a way that makes me truly happy, I start to feel guilty, like do I deserve this? Is it fair that I’m so happy when other people aren’t, etc.?

I lead a very charmed existence. My life used to be very challenging & I’ve worked very hard to build myself in a way that I can be happy regardless of what’s happening in my beautiful life. I have been fortunate to have been blessed with three wonderful children. I have a talent I am passionate about and I’m growing as a writer every day. I’m building connections and career opportunities in my field and I’m super excited about that. My home is slowly becoming a lovely little house where I can raise my family. The girls love their new surroundings and like to chase the bunnies in the yard, they’ve already made friends their own age, and are always outside enjoying their new hometown. Business is even picking up at my day job, so I’m worrying less and less about money and focusing more on becoming a good manager and leader. You know, why I was hired in the first place. My friends back home are always supportive and my friends here are super fun. My girlfriend & I are setting up a playdate with her boys and my girls once the boys get home from camp. My frazzled nerves are often soothed by three words, sent by text message almost every day. They give me peace & security. I’m beautiful and smart and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel anxious and my self esteem doesn’t suck.

But I also find myself worrying that something is going to go terribly wrong. I find myself feeing increasingly sorry for the Dad, who seems to be miserable and that’s my fault. I know you could rationalize that if he wanted to see his kids, he would find a job here, or he would have actually spent time with them when he had them for the month, but I can’t help but feel badly that his life has gone so far downhill and mine seems pretty rad. Kids deserve two hands on parents and I keep hoping he’ll finally get it together and focus on being a good father for his children, but it never happens. And I just keep thinking that I’ve ruined his life somehow. I worry all of the things that are making me happy will suddenly be taken away and it won’t be here anymore. I hadn’t planned for certain developments, and now that they’re in play, it scares me that the other shoe will drop and it’ll go away & the thought scares me so much. I worry that maybe they prefer me as a zoo animal to be observed & watched than a woman to be loved & respected. I can see the girls are adjusting nicely, but I’m still worried that they won’t be happy or that I’m making choices that will impact them in a negative way, despite everything being positive. I also wonder WHY I feel badly that he’s miserable. If the shoe were on the other foot, he would revel in my misery. But I keep worrying that he won’t handle the transition okay, which causes me to distance myself from other aspects of my life so that I can try to help him adjust.

 

I understand all of these feelings are super normal. I understand that change is scary and letting people in is terrifying and trusting people is hard and people have free will and they choose to love you and they can choose to self destruct and there’s nothing you can do about it. I guess it’s all part of the adjustment; learning to trust your gut instincts (which currently tell me to relax and enjoy my life, it’s the overthinking that gets me) and learning to accept that feelings of self doubt and even fear are normal; especially when every other time you’ve been really happy, it seems to go away. You’ve just gotta remind yourself that it won’t go away. I’ll just continue to focus my efforts on raising my girls, self improvement, and most importantly, the written word. I apply for jobs I’m grossly underqualified for, just so I can get my name out there while I continue to work with my current magazines. I’ll continue to revel with my time with my girls. I’m doing every day crossfit, which means my body hurts like mother effer, but I’m feeling more like myself which means I’m much happier here. It finally feels like this is home. London never really felt like home. It felt like a stepping stone to someplace else. Maybe this was that someplace else? Or maybe this is a stepping stone to someplace else and in two years or so I’ll end up in BC working at some rural newspaper in some hick town, or I’ll actually go to the arctic. Who knows? All I know is I need to do what my Queen Taylor Swift says and “shake it off” and not allow guilt or feelings that the other shoe will drop spoil the happy life I’m building.

But it’s easier said than done & it’s something I need to work on to help me be a more confident person. But as we slowly adjust into a comfortable routine here, and as time passes, it’ll be easier for me to settle into my comfortable place & just be happy.   

Miss Missing You

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Current Events, Dear Blank, Douchers, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

Sometimes my life feels so very lonely. 

Probably because it actually kind of is. 

I know it’s a loneliness of my own design, but it is what it is. I probably sound so whiny, but I’ve never felt so disconnected from my own life. I haven’t hugged my daughters in almost a month & I’m so far from everyone I know except two people & most of my conversations with friends from home are “helpful” reminders that I shouldn’t have done this because I make dumb choices. The gym was great but it wasn’t MY gym & they weren’t MY coaches. I’ve overwhelmed myself with the amount of work that needs to be done so I can unpack, I don’t really know my way around & I’m just…

…I want to go home. But I don’t know where that is. 

I was adjusting fine until my youngest daughter was rushed to the hospital & I stood powerless in my store & couldn’t do anything. Sure, my best friend rushed there, but I should have been there. I am Mommy. Mommy is there when bad things happen. And Mommy was very far away. Mommy will remain far away for another week & a Mommy literally cannot stand it anymore. Mommy should not be rewarding brave little girls with a FaceTime trip to the Disney Store. Mommy should have been there. And I wasn’t. And I feel awful. 

I’ve been fortunate that I’m not completely alone; I have a partner here who loves me & has done his damnedest to make this whole thing tolerable, but he’s my equal, not my protector. He works & has a life. I can’t just call him & have my epic meltdown that I don’t like my job & I literally don’t want to be this far from my girls anymore & I am really, really intimidated & out of my element & I have never ever looked at a situation that I couldn’t just make awesome until now (although I have no doubt he would listen & be there with me). That reason is because I sound like a huge fucking baby because I know I am actually fine. I am supposed to be a boss ass bitch. Boss ass bitches do not cry because they are lonely af & struggling with the major life change I know was the right thing because everything is actually wonderful & I’m just overtired & overstressed & overwhelmed & this will pass & I am fine. 

But right now I am just so incredibly lonely & I find myself calling my friends just so I don’t feel alone in my house but it’s always much later than I thought it was & suddenly I feel so very alone. It’s weird; for years all I wanted was to be left alone so I could be independent & raise my girls & no one could hurt me ever again. But now, I’m just so lonely for my friends, my girls & a home that feels like home & I suck at vulnerability. It kind of goes against my whole “I’m the most bad ass bitch on Earth,” thing. 

Change is supposed to be scary. Good change is supposed to be terrifying. Every aspect of my current life but two things are terrifying. I guess I want some semblance of MY life. And I know once I’m attending crossfit regularly & the girls are here I’ll be okay. But I feel like I’ve backed myself into a weird corner. I’ve spent so long trying to convince the world that I need no one & nothing & I’m brave & strong & I can handle everything because I’m so freaking awesome that now that I’m not brave, I dunno what to do. I don’t know how to be afraid, or lonely, or any of these things. And I don’t know how to adequately express these things, or let anyone into my mind & I want so badly to be the super human I’ve convinced myself I am that I bottle up all of these things until you end up having some sobbing fit because you are just really sick of your own company & your own thoughts & you just want someone near you for awhile, even if it’s just on the other end of a phone. 

  
I’m sure everyone who’s ever made a major relocation has had these feelings. They’re not exclusive to me. I’m just a person who overlooks them so I can live up to an ideal that isn’t actually real; I’m not invincible. I’m sometimes not even very brave. And for some reason I won’t allow myself to understand its okay to feel less than bad ass. So, I find myself turning to my writing more than usual, as it’s always been the thing that helps me sort out my jumbled thoughts in a way that makes me feel better. 

In the interim, I’ll just bawl my eyes out & feel very lonely & immerse myself in painting tomorrow, for the sense of accomplishment that I am making my house pretty will make tomorrow a brighter day, because the best part of being the eternal optimist is you’ll find something to make the day better, even if that something is very small. 

But I was reunited with my bed, so that was rad

The Great Divide

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Current Events, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

Let me tell you a story called “MH’s no good, terrible, horrible, very bad days.” 

One thing I have never lacked is ambition; mostly because I think I can do everything. So, I decided to paint my entire house, by myself, in 24 hours! 

(I am well aware that this was actually stupid, no need to remind me)

I got through two rooms (walls only) & one started before I gave up & cried. And passed out. It was pretty fantastic. 

The next day @ work, I was programming my shiny new work phone & so proud that unlike my last work line, it actually worked! I put my shiny phone in my pocket & headed home, as my movers refused to drop off my stuff unless I was there. I went to answer an email by pulling my phone out of my pocket & found THIS;

 

Apparently my booty game so strong that IT DESTROYS ELECTRONICS
 
After putting an insensitive friend on blast & receiving a helpful reminder from a former coworker about why Z3 screens are actually made of delicate rice paper (and apparently this is common), I was pretty much DONE with the last 48 hours. 

Normally, I use crossfit as my stress reliever, but I don’t have a class until later today. Yoga wasn’t an option either; as movers were all over my house. So, I went shopping. If I like you, I probably bought you or your kid something (but I didn’t buy my brother the Anger plusher because I’m a jerk sister). I also bought my first piece of “bandwagon sports clothing” so I’ll fit in amongst Western Canadians. I got some David’s Tea. By the end, I was poor, but I felt better. 

 

I bought this shirt. I am such a child
 
In my professional life, I have mastered time management & quiet control. In my personal life, I have mastered letting things play out as they should & finding my comfort level without overthinking. As a parent, I have mastered equal time for my children. But as a woman, I still try to accomplish more than one human being is capable of. 

Part of it stems from the girls being gone for so long. I want their home to be perfect when they get home. Then there is the fact that I want to do everything ON MY OWN. I hate relying on others, I hate asking for help. I want to be completely independent & take care of myself & my family on my own. I want to be super mom & super woman & super athlete so I can feel like a strong & independent woman. I want my girls to have a good role model so perhaps my ambition, while well meaning, is a bit…nuts. 

I’ll get my house painted. I’ll just have to pace it out a little bit each night until it’s done. I’ll get unpacked. I’ll get my work phone fixed. It’ll all work out. And crossfit is tonight so getting back into my fitness life will help me feel “normal” again. And I’ll keep working to leave my over ambitious nature in my professional life, where it will serve me to accomplish all of my goals in my own bad ass way (& for crossfit, because gains). 

Whether it’s positive self work or spending money, I’ll always try to find the positive so I can keep tackling life each day & making it my bitch, because that’s the only way to live! 

In the interim, I’m going to pace myself to get what I want to get done completed. I’ve got some great opportunities lined up & I don’t want to burn myself out sweating small stuff…& I bought a bunch of stuff so I get to give people gifties so they’ll be happy & I’ll be happy that I got to make them happy, because no matter how much I grow, the basic core of who I am, the person who loves to give to others, will never change. 

  

Hollow

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Current Events, Douchers, Life, Mommydom, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

I know I’m overtired & overwhelmed & likely grossly malnourished as I’ve been living on a steady diet of protein bars, coffee & bottled water & that’s pretty much it. I haven’t slept for more than two hours straight, I’m homesick & I barely know what time it is. Fortunately, my three hour chat with the Gleason Table has kept me a little sane. 

But I miss my daughters & the longer they’re away from me, the more anxious I get. I worry if they’re safe, they’re eating right, are they having fun. What if their dad doesn’t bring them back? And then, the nagging thought that bothers me to the point that I cry a lot. 

What if I am a terrible mother?

Please don’t inundate this blog with comments about how great I am & poppycock. My intention isn’t to be self congratulatory or get compliments. It’s an honest question; am I a terrible mother? 

When I made the decision to move out here, my intentions were good. I wanted to give my daughters more than a mom who works themselves to death at two crappy retail jobs. I wanted to be better, be home for stuff, spend time with them. I wanted to show my 14 year old daughter that you work to achieve your goals. I wanted to increase my earning potential & give them more. But as their dad & grandparents rail me for taking them away so they’ll never see them again & I hang out in my empty house, I wonder if I truly am alienating them like those horrible women that all the Facebook memes talk about. 

Then I find myself talking to friends about helping him find a job here, opening a joint account so we can mutually save for visits, ensuring that they have skype dates, etc. I keep trying & trying to make this easier, but then I learn he’s spent one of the last five days with them. He took them for frozen yogurt & returned them to their grandmother. That’s when it hit me; I’m trying to force him to be a parent so I don’t feel like a bad mother. 

That probably sounds weird, and maybe selfish. But it’s what it is. I grew up without a dad, but that wasn’t by his choice. He died. I don’t want my girls to not have one. So, I push and I push & I probably alienate him further from his kids so that I can feel like I tried to make sure they have two parents. So, now, while I’m a zillion miles from my daughters, I can’t understand why he isn’t maximizing every second with them. I don’t understand why his family just admits that he’ll likely never be part of their lives after this month is done & he brings them to the airport. And I feel all this guilt because they blame me for “alienation.” (Except for an Uncle & a cousin who are really cool people & I’m very grateful for them) Meanwhile, the kids suffer because I encourage the relationship. They made Father’s Day crafts & my two youngest waited by the window because surely Daddy would surprise them. But no one came. Hours passed & not a phone call, until my eldest called. I strong arm him into taking them for a month while he tries to send them back. I force him to be a dad so I don’t feel like a bad mother. 

I remind him that my oldest daughter has her own phone & he can call whenever. But I can’t force someone to do what they don’t want to do. But I keep doing it to ease my conscience because they need a dad & what if it’s my fault that he’s not willing? 

I think about everything I do to be a good mother. I work, i stay healthy, I try to be a good person & kind. I try to be the example so they don’t need to look up to sports Heroes or celebrities, they can look up to me. But I still feel like if I can’t somehow make their relationship with their dad positive, I failed as a parent. 

So, I try to ride out the next 18 days, feeling lonely & isolated. No one has asked to go to the park or play on my phone. The minions movie comes out on Friday & I can’t take the Overlord, with her minion Steve. No one has told me about how this friend flirted with this boy and now this other friend is totes mad & so & so wore the same shirt & its war. But mostly, no tiny people have hugged me. I haven’t read the Paper Bag Princess for the zillionth time. And that’s because I made this choice to give them time with their dad. Time he’s not even using. And I can’t help but feel like it’s all my fault, like my choices to better my situation to give them more broke that relationship, which makes me a terrible mother & someday they’ll hate me for not doing more to help them see their dad, and no matter what I do to be a good role model, they’ll just think I’m a terrible mother. Maybe in the end, it won’t matter that I’m obviously doing something right, as the not so angry teen is bright & beautiful, the overlord has the highest grade in EVERYTHING, and the pirate princess is witty & funny. Maybe they’ll see me as the “self centred c***” their father calls me, which would likely break my heart. But maybe that’s what they’ll think & see, because maybe I’m just a terrible mother.