Sick of Me (Happy New Year)

Learn to... be what you are, and learn to resign with a good grace all that you are not.  ~Henri Frederic Amiel

It's been a minute. Kinda scary actually. So much has been done, said, forgotten. To reflect on it all now, in hindsight, would be all too revealing. And the truth, as we all know, is often-times the bitterest pill of them all.

But, it's a new year. Fresh starts, clean pages and all that. So reflect we must.

By the time December hit, I was utterly exhausted. What a f*&#!ng year! I'm not afraid to say, I'm glad it's over. A cyber friend of mine asked an open question last month on Twitter. "How did you find 2009? Good, bad or ugly?" My response: "2009 was faultless. Me in 2009? Bad." And that is the heart of it. I was at the edge of some weird precipice last year (and I probably still am, considering 'last year' was a mere 8 days ago). Face-to-face with myself as a mother, as a wife, a career-woman, a friend, a whole person - for real and for the first time. The new me. And I didn't handle meeting her very well.

My blog-post history speaks for itself. Epiphanies and falls. That's the story of 2009 for me. So tedious. So much so that I don't even have the energy to fill in the gaps since my last post. Apart from Little Tyke coming back, everything that's happened since is just more of the same really. I will not even try to recount or even summarise the past few months' events.

Even to make a resolution for 2010 seems pointless - I know all I need to know and all I need to do. I've learnt and failed at it all already. So consistency is the way forward. It's the only way. If this is to truly be a new year, I must do new things.

I'm frankly sick of myself. Sick of knowing what to expect. Sick of expecting too little. I'm sick of seeing different sides of the same person pulling in different directions. Sick of losing control when I know I hold all the control. Sick of knowing better without doing better. Just sick of it!

Tonight, after work, I'm going to speak to Hubby. I'm sick of it. I'm laying it all down for him... every failing, every frustration. I want him to see me. I want to force myself to be seen. I'm sick of it. No more hiding from myself, no more running from the world. A few months ago, I would have been terrified. Perish the thought of being exposed - the horror, if anyone should see that I really haven't gotten it all together - not one bit. But now? Now, I'm just sick of it. I'm not ok. I don't want to pretend that I'm ok anymore. Wife, mother, career-woman, financial manager, head-cook, housekeeper, organiser and general household manager is too big a title for me to take on any more.

I'm sick of it. I want to do it. I wish to God I could do it, but I can't. I just won't anymore. It's destroying me and because of that, I will start destroying everything around me. I'm sick of it!

So that's how my new year will begin... with simply getting rid of the old shit. No resolutions, no future plans. Just a blank slate and a clear conscience. I figure it can only get better from here.