That is true. I shouldn’t be going here… to this place of self pity, but I do, anyway, nonetheless. It is my own fault. I have been reading too many blogs. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing, and you find that quickly online. Like everything else you glut quickly on the internet.
Anyway…. I am feeling sorry for myself because I am not an awesome godly woman with awesome godly husband and awesome godly children. And I feel like apologizing for it. But then I feel sorry for myself, and I am not at all sure why I get that emotion. It might spike a bit as anger, but almost immediately turns to sadness and then goes inward.
My garden is a mess, and all the rational excuses in the world for it do not comfort me. My house is not organized… and with the time online, will it ever be? It will have to be… and I will not be online as much when I am forced into that corner. And because I will be forced I will not be able to claim any sort of moral excellency. I have spent longer than some of the mommy people have been alive in the role of mommy and housekeeper…..home manager…whatever. I have had my successes and more than the amount of failure that might be overlooked. Much failure. And I feel like apologizing. Isn’t that strange? I am sorry I didn’t measure up and it doesn’t look like I ever will.
You are going to want to comfort me now (or slap me-come out of this,woman!), but you really don’t need to. I have my knowledge of who I am in Christ, and that gives a perspective. I have faith that even the failures have some purpose ( even though I cannot now imagine what), and I know that I have only myself to blame for reneging on obligations which end up piling up in the most inconvenient and overwhelming way.
And I don’t have focus. I will always be a dreaming, ditzy, distracted woman. I have worked against it, but that is what I am. Along about your thirties you wake up to the fact that not having focus is highly detrimental to plans, and time is no longer on your side. And self-pity will accomplish nothing except to waste more time. Which is what I seem really excellent at.
OK. God is working on me, but I can’t imagine what the outcome could possibly be.
Oh well, I go through this every once in awhile. And I think my hormones have conspired against me today. Window closed, curtains drawn.
I’m fine really. And yes, you were right… I am a whack job. But probably in a normal way.