I have gotten to the point where I am now pissed off when I have to write a post before bed.
Not good.
Isn’t this supposed to be fun? Something that I chose and want to do? Why am I angry?
I feel like a monster sometimes. Out of control. Mean. Impatient. Just an all out asshole.
And that monster negates all the good things I do and say.
I don’t leave myself any time to not be a monster. I do too much. I don’t take help when I need it. I lash out when being supported.
Why?
Because I’m spoiled and want to be a giant baby who gets to dump frustration on others instead of dealing with it like an adult.
My mom sometimes would call me “bitch from hell.” It was sort of a joke and sort of not.
I know people see it. My friends. Family. They put up with it. But wouldn’t it be nice if they didn’t have to?
Maybe that should be my goal instead of churning out crummy post after post just to get to the end of the year and say I succeeded.
I need to make time to be better. A better communicator. A better parent. A better wife. Friend. To be more careful with my words. To bring positive energy and lightness. To lift up those around me. That’s what I want this blog to be anyway. How many reminders do I need?
No time. F that. There is all the time in the world. I’ve just got to make the most of it.
