tides and seasons of my secret life

epic fail ahead

moonymaid — Sat, 12 Jun 2010 12:41:24 +0000

I’m pretty sure I won’t pass the paed’s exam, which in many ways is not even a bad thing.

I would have a whole year to study more thoroughly and in a way I now know works for me. I just needed 1.5 months to find out which way that is.

The whole problem with failure is how it affects my self-esteem and how I have a habit of identifying myself with success in other people’s concepts of myself. Umh… that was a very convoluted sentence. Basically, it means that when I am successful and other people view me that way it makes me feel smart and appreciated. I then think I really am smart and have something to offer to the world. In the opposite case, I assume I am somehow dumb and stupid, and what use am I, anyway.

Which is not exactly true, I know that in my mind, and any given exam cannot be a measure of smartness, as there are so many additional factors, for example I am now mother to the Little Girl, which leaves me far less quality time to study than before. Also, I am in a very vulnerable place in my life (what about Saturn’s return) and I have a lower capacity to force myself to concentrate and focus on outside things, as I am pre-occupied with inside stuff and problem-solving.

So, failing at the exam would not put and end to the world, but what would my parents say, my boss, my doctor colleagues and my friends, who think this should be a no-brainer for me. I guess, as my mind is racing down that path, I put too much weight on their opinions and judgement. This is normal for me, but not very healthy. Not very kind, either. I would never judge a friend for something like this, so why judge myself so harshly.

This is where I am, trying to give myself more space and be kind to myself. Maybe even, for the first time in almost 30 years.

I want to puke a little *updated

moonymaid — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 17:04:23 +0000

See, there is apparently an assumption that rape victims get to bear responsibility for being raped. That’s called victimization. It’s inexcusable.

There’s also a great post on rape culture at Shakesville. It hurts, but it’s very, very useful and enlightening about the ways in which rape is excused and enabled by western societies. Please, spread the word. It can save your daughter, your mother, your wife from having to experience sexual assault and violation of her womanhood. (Also, boys and men get raped, too, albeit far less often.)

Rape is an inexcusable crime. It’s one of the situations in life, along with murder and violence against children, that is all black-and-white. No shades here. No room for rationalizations. End of story.

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I worry

moonymaid — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 10:16:42 +0000

I drive myself crazy with worry for the Little Girl. Especially now, that I’m studying for the Pead Exam. Every time I read that some disease or another manifests itself within the first two years of life, I sigh with relieve, because it’s one less I have to panic about. I follow her around, taking note of every little thing she does or doesn’t and then I analyze for hours what they could mean. But seriously, mostly it’s normal kid’s stuff, cranky because of teething, separation anxiety, binged on sweets, didn’t eat dinner. It just tends to blow up in my mind. Did she drink enough? Or maybe too much? How much did she pee? Is she hot? (It’s like almost 30 C° outside, duh.) Jeez. She’s as healthy as they get, knock on wood. And then I pause, picking up another worry, that maybe I’m damaging her beyond repair with all my constant worrying. And I try to get myself together, but not for long.

Recently, I realized worrying about the Little Girl is in fact a sublimation of Things I Should Worry About, which I fail to address, ’cause they seem too scary or unpleasant. I started naming them, quietly, in my mind. Acknowledging their existence and urgency. Ticking them off on a mental list of Things To Handle. I stopped avoiding them, and suddenly, I didn’t worry for the Girl anymore. What a relieve. What a challenge.

An Exercise in Making Sense of Things

moonymaid — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 19:35:14 +0000

I saw this at Jen Lemen’s place and I love it. But beware. It seems like such an easy list to do. It’s not. It’s heart wrenching and scary, and just plain clarity-inducing. So here goes… the “Back to Basics” list

Things I don’t know yet
how to write this blog and be honest, without revealing too much information that could harm someone I love or, you know, make them cringe that I put this out there on the Internets

Things I’m learning
how to accept new people without judging them at first glance, because I feel threatened by them
how to stand my own ground, without feeling guilty or falling into explanations/making excuses
how to tell what I need
how to tell what I’m feeling
how to shut up when enough has been said
how to speak up when the time is right

Things I’m wishing for
to do well at my pead’s exam on June, 14th
to get a break from work and show my little girl the sea
change… in so many ways…
a baby, when the time is right
just enough money to make our life comfortable and unburdened by money-issues
to be brave, to be honest

Things that are getting on my nerves
money, or the lack thereof
substance abuse, not further specified
people, who assume it’s my job to save the world
new psychodrama group to get used to
time tickin’ away until above-mentioned exam
how I never get on the mat
how I spend too much time procrastinating because I’m scared shitless

Things that scare me
the.above.mentioned.exam.
substance abuse, not further specified (but I don’t abuse any substances, in case you’re worried)
feelings
the hypothetical possibility of something bad happening to my daughter
the truth about… things
se.x

Things that are making me happy
my daughter’s giggles and her ever-evolving language skills
when “small” people take small steps and achieve big things for the community
Julie Andrews, a.k.a. Mary Poppins., since 1964

So this is what I’m leaving you with

“Practically Perfect People never allow sentiment to muddle their thinking”

Apropos of nothing

moonymaid — Sat, 17 Apr 2010 11:07:08 +0000

A while ago I tagged all previous posts “private”, because I’m really concerned with privacy and I need to protect my family, but then again… I also need this place to come here and remember how to breathe and just clear my head of all the noise. So, I’ll try to keep this me-related-only, which is going to be hard, obviously, since we dwell so much more in the past continuous than in the simple present…

I went on the mat the other day, after I woke up like and arthritic old lady, every joint and muscle in my body hurting from stiffness. I’ve been trying to come back to yoga for a looong time now, but it was never the perfect time. You know, my home all cluttered and waiting for the baby to wake up from her nap, too early, too late, why bother. Um, yeah. I have this thing where I can’t make a move unless it will be “perfect”, so most of the time I end up doing nothing at all.

I’m a bit out of touch with my body, which sadly makes me out of touch with, well, everything really. Except for the kid. The kid’s been great and funny. And spoiled, but I digress. Slowly, I start internalizing that this is something I can do, something I’m good at, this whole mothering thing. It suits me. It’s something to hold on too. But then again, not too tight.

I practice my Tree pose, Vrksasana, and balance is emerging from within…