Day 244 = Walking + Why I'm Not Normal

Still sick. Still home from work. Throat hurts, especially when I yawn. But today I had to get up out this house! I went for a 40-minute walk.

Well, first I opened a bill from Seton Hospital. Seven stitches in the eyebrow is all fun and games until you get the bill for $1248. Hormonal, strep-throat-sick tears in the kitchen ensued. It was pretty horrific. Then I went for my walk.

Normally, working out makes everything all warm and fuzzy again. So I walked. And walked. And waited for the warm and fuzzies to overcome me. I tried to remember that I am very blessed, and this bill is not as bad as it could be. I tried to listen to a fun song, but I just walked around my neighborhood with a scowl on my face. And thought about other shit happening in my life. Errrgggghh.

I get so out of whack when I'm sick. I get out of my routine. I hate getting out of my routine. I'd like to think that I'm flexible and spontaneous, but I think I've been conditioned differently. To the outside world, I have my shit together. But really, I just have my routine because (here comes the A-HA moment) I crave control. It makes me feel safe to be able to "control" things in this plane of my universe. Yes, I put quotes around the word control on purpose. Please, if you will, allow me to live with this false sense of security because I obviously can't afford a therapist, let alone 7 stitches.

OK, so here we go.

I hate to admit that I crave control. I hate it, I tell you. I don't want to be that controlling bitch, but I guess I probably am. I've been trying that mantra "let go and let God" but let's just say it's slow going.

While having a job (albeit in a cube) and having a house to come home to is all "grown up" and signs of having one's shit tightly in tact, it is really just a trap. An evil trap that provides the ultimate false sense of security. And then you wake up one day with strep throat and get all out of the routine and take a look around and are like, "What the fuck is all this for? I don't need 6 dining chairs."

[Earmuffs, Mom]

I can pinpoint the turning point in my life when things got out of control and I had to be the resilient kid and just go with it. Obviously, it was my parents' divorce. I moved around a lot when I was a kid and lived in different houses and went to different schools and made different friends. I even lived in England and had to re-make friends there. Then I came back to the States and had to re-make friends again - twice. I had no choice but to bounce back. It probably did make me stronger, but this is why I do not have kids. Then my dad died, and not to sound belittling or anything, but that was a devastating upturn in my life, which also made me like superhero strong woman. But I get tired of being strong and getting up and doing that everyday. Why can't I just make soup and sandwiches for homeless people on Mondays and then maybe, like, run around Town Lake and nap on Tuesdays?

Now that I'm aware of the by-products of my upbringing (and I've only lightly skimmed the surface of that here), that is the first step. I don't remember being an anxious kid before my parents divorced. But now, I live a life with anxiety because I don't know what's going to happen next. That's scary to me. So my routine keeps me grounded and feeling safe, like I can control something, but "feeling safe" is not all it's cracked up to be. In fact, it sucks. Maslow's hierarchy of needs can kiss my ass.

My craving for safety probably explains my no relationship policy. Well, it's not really a policy, it's more like a reality. Not only do men probably smell eau de controlling bitch a mile away, but it will take a very special man to get me to let down my guard and change my routine to be available for him, and so far I haven't met that guy. I mean, I get all Rainmanny 6 o'clock Wapner about my routine. Plus, I don't want to get hurt and disappointment and drama have run their course. Life is too short for that shit.

So I've devised this plan. Take this blog worldwide and get out of the cube job and sell the house and branch out and take a not-so-safe risk. For this, I need a new blog name, but no one suggested any winners in the contest. So I've been brainstorming and researching blog names the last two days while I've been at home. I have almost 60 names identified. I'm really taking this seriously. Did you know babyfishmouth.com is taken?