Reflection

My manager and I were having one of our 'eh, let's just shoot the breeze' conversations the other day. We got around to talking about how most people wouldn't ever define us as introverts because neither of us would ever be called shy.

That's probably the biggest misunderstanding of introverts because most people think that if you are an introvert, you're shy and bookish.

I have NO PROBLEM speaking in front of huge crowds and I'm not shy by any stretch of the imagination. If I see you alone in a room, I'll probably be the first one to walk over to you and start up a conversation.

Well, unless you look like a serial killer or something... in that case you can count me out.

Basically, an introvert is a person who is energized by being alone and whose energy is drained by being around other people. Unfortunately, I think that this is very hard for extroverts to understand. Most of the time, extroverts take this personally, because extroverts are just the opposite- their energy comes from being around other people. I'd even go so far to say that an extrovert would wilt on the vine if left alone for too long- whereas an introvert would be thinking, "I want more of this alone stuff..."

In an extrovert's mind, the introvert seems to be rejecting them personally if they do not want to spend a lot of time together or need to get away. It becomes a balancing act for the introvert to keep from hurting someone's feelings without draining their batteries completely.

I talked to the bearded eye-roller about this the other night and told him that I felt that he was an introvert. He looked at me with surprise because he is one of the many that had the misconception about introverts. I reminded him that one of the frequent statements I hear from him is, "I can't be charming any more today"; meaning he needs to be alone for a while.

I think this is why we work so well as a couple. We're both very outgoing introverts (seems like a conflicting statement, doesn't it?). We are very social- but only to a certain extent. When our 'charming' has left the building, we really DO need to be alone- although I do a better job of hiding it than BER .

This is why we specifically looked for a house where we wouldn't see our neighbors when we get home. Nine times out of ten, our charming quotient has been used up by the end of a work day and the idea of socializing with the neighbor is enough to make us run away screaming.

I was thinking about this today, as BER and I are doing our normal weekend ritual. We typically spend our mornings doing our own thing (he'll play war games or watch movies, I'll surf the net or work in the garden), and sometime later in the day- often not until evening, we either go out or just hang together in the house.

It's just perfect for us. Jean-Paul Sartre says it best, "Hell is other people at breakfast".

Yeah, that's the song that's been in my head since I woke up this morning. Hmmmm, could it be because today is my first day back to work since Jan 5th?

The first thing on my plate is to tackle the password mess. My password expired while I was out and there are four passwords in total that usually sync up when I change my password. That didn't happen.

So, I've been screwing around with that for the past 45 minutes. I'm now waiting for it to reset AGAIN, so I thought I'd post.

Not a good start, but....

The word of the day for me is ambivalent. I'm neither excited nor upset that I'm back in the saddle. Just feeling a little meh. I suppose that feeling will change as soon as I am able to sign on to the network and read the gazillion email messages that are surely awaiting me.

A little coffee in my system might help too....

The last six weeks has been a tremendous gift, even though I wasn't feeling physically up to par. I was able to slow down enough to truly see what I needed to change in order to be a better me. It is my intention to wake up each morning and remind myself of the things I've learned over the past six weeks, in order to continue down this path.

In the time that it's taken me to write this post, I've signed on; changed all my passwords; and have downloaded all of my email. Only 352 messages. Not too bad.

Here's to a fresh start.

I've felt like I've been in a cocoon the past few weeks, so hopefully I'll be emerging soon into a big ol' butterfly.

I'm someone who goes inward when something is bothering me. The more something bothers me, the more inward I go and I want less and less human interaction. I didn't even feel like writing for the past few weeks because I was SO busy processing the thoughts swirling around in my head. I'm still not really feeling very social, and I still feel like staying in my 'cave' for a bit longer. The good news is that I can see the light right outside of that cave.

I think I was really burned out when I left my job to have surgery on Jan 5th. I was working WAY too many hours and had WAY too little time off. I was focusing way too much on my job and focusing way too much on staying in control. Until this week, I literally cried at the idea of going back to work and that really bothered me because I truly do love what I do; but I didn't like my job. Making it worse, was that I *knew* it was my fault that I didn't like my job.

I've put off this surgery for so many reasons, but now I'm starting to wonder if I needed to put it off until I was in that horrible mental state. I think that I was at the breaking point, if I am to be truly honest, and if it weren't for that, I don't think I would have been so determined to figure out how to make things better.

I think I've always been someone who intentionally keeps a flurry of activity around me so I don't have the time to be still. Now I realize that being still has been exactly what I've needed to do and I hope to remember this when I get back to work on the 19th. Being still has allowed me to really think about MY culpability in the place I've landed over and over and over again. What a gift this has been.

It's kind of scary to put this out there, but I'm going to do it anyway. I have come to believe that 'living better through chemicals' is one of the things I need to do; to right my situation, and so I have an appointment with my doctor on Monday to discuss it.

I've been someone who gets very focused on things, to the point of obsession, ever since I can remember. I remember many instances of this from childhood and it seems to be getting worse as I grow older. The constant need for perfection is part of this 'issue', as I see it. Sure, this 'perfectionist' streak has served me well at work and at home (hey, the house is ALWAYS clean, eh?), but at what price?

I am in a constant (as in 24/7) state of anxiety. No lie. I've become very good at hiding it, too, because I really don't want people around me to have to deal with it. The anxiety people around me witness on occasion is NOTHING compared to the internal anxiety going on.

I sincerely hope that having the surgery I've needed for so long; taking the time off to recover from that surgery; and most of all, having the down-time to really think about why I put myself into situations time and time again; will get me to a good place to start back into my job without going back to that burned out place again. Life is just too short.

I'm sorry that I've been a bad blogger and blog-friend. I hope that I'll get back into the swing of things once I am in a better place. I'm just not quite there yet.

This blog is where I write about everything* in my head, and so holding back information because I feel silly about it is, well, just dumb.

Sometimes I write in order to see what it is that I'm truly feeling. I'm not always completely in touch with my own emotions and thoughts and it takes a whole lot of writing before I get to the 'aha!'.

Sometimes I write about things that I want my kids to have referenced somewhere after I die (hopefully, many years from now).

Sometimes I write so those in my life who read my blog will understand me a little bit more.

But mainly, I just write for me. I like to write because it's cathartic.

With that said....

Last night I had a really hard time sleeping. My mind was racing with lots of thoughts, but the one that kept coming back to me was, now that I've had this surgery I'll never be able to have another baby, and it REALLY upset me.

Huh? I'll be 47 years old at the end of this month and I honestly had no intentions of having another baby. Not even for a minute did I want to have another baby. Why would this upset me so much then?

I also got to thinking that a part of my body that I'd come to hate over the years was the very thing that enabled me to give birth to two of the most wonderful people I've ever known. How could I hate something that also brought me such joy?

I'm one of the lucky ones that was able to have babies. I've never taken that for granted because I cannot imagine my life without my sons. I am about as close to wrapping my whole world around them (in a non-smothering way, of course), as I possibly can.

How can I come to terms then, with the hateful relationship that I had with this part of my body and how I was so excited to be finally rid of it. I keep picturing 'it' tossed aside like garbage, with no less than a "don't let the door hit ya on the way out" from me. I feel so disrespectful, and ungrateful today.

Wow- I never thought I'd give it a second thought. Now it seems that I'm giving it lots of thought and regret. I do not regret having the surgery, and I'm positive that it was the right thing. I'm not sure what it is that I regret. I just know that the feeling of regret is the feeling that keeps bubbling up to the surface.

Maybe I'm just having some sort of temporary depression, caused by a combination of anesthesia, hormones, and cabin fever. I'm fairly certain that I'll look back on this post one day (or maybe even in two hours, considering the rapid cycling of emotion I've been feeling) and shake my head at the drama of it all.

*not everything... I'm smart enough to keep most job-related thoughts out of this public forum.

Tomorrow, 12/31 is your birthday. It seems odd to me that I never knew when your birthday was until after you died. From now on, though, I will think about you and reflect on your life on this day.

I often wonder what it would be like if you were alive when I finally 'found' you. I wonder about the conversations we would have had. I'd like to think that you would have recognized in me the traits that are so like yours.


It's obvious that most of my physical traits come from you, as is evidenced by our picture at the same age. As I've gotten to know you better through your family- I am also so amazed at the similarities in personality.

I see us both as being huge risk takers, and I know exactly why we do it. We both have high IQs which enables us to figure out the things we need to do, to get from start to finish. So, armed with this knowledge, I know that there is not one thing I can't do, if I set my mind to it. It may not happen exactly as planned, and I might have to go back to the drawing board a few times, but the end result is that I've achieved what I wanted to achieve. I've proven it to myself over and over again, and when things don't work out right away it makes me work even harder. This side of my personality has served me well in my career, however there have been times that I couldn't see the light at the end of the path I'd set out for myself. I knew the light was there, somewhere, I just couldn't see it. I had to rely on faith in myself to keep going sometimes, even though that faith was just a shred.

I wonder if this trait we share, is the one that caused you to take that final step. Because I've painted myself into corners, due to my need prove I can do ANYTHING, I have to admit that I understand, almost too well, the emotional place that ended your journey here.

I think of all of the traits that we share, this is the one that is both a blessing and a curse. I will do my best to honor you by focusing on the positive and learn from you what could happen if I am not careful.

If he could, I'm sure that Casey would like to thank you for his hair. He thinks his hair is 'all that and a bag of chips', and it is obvious from looking at pictures that it came from you.


I think we can probably 'thank' you for the wiseacre side of Cameron's personality. OK, to be honest- that trait didn't skip a generation. I have it too.

I remember when I received this picture, how blown away I was at how much Cameron looks like you.


As I've received other pictures throughout the past 18 months, I see how much Casey looks like you too. The way you looked varied from picture to picture, so the similarities switch back and forth. One thing is for sure- you certainly had a strong set of genes.

This may sound strange, but I was really glad to hear that you were a good father to my half-sisters. I was told by my mother that you weren't in my life because you didn't like children, and I believed it. It was nice to hear that this wasn't the case at all. It was merely a set of circumstances that kept us from having a relationship.

I want you to know that I do not harbor any resentment about the fact that you were not in my life. I used to, just a little, before I understood the grand scheme of things. There is no doubt in my mind that everything happened the way it was supposed to.

My dad is, and always has been, an awesome dad to me. He's been my dad since I was five, but I honestly believe that he was ALWAYS meant to be my dad in the family lottery.

I cannot imagine, even for a minute, being in this world without my sister and my brother . If things would have worked out between you and my mother, I would have missed out on two people that have brought me a lot of joy and a sense of belonging. I know without a doubt that they were meant to be my siblings.

I have been blessed with all of this, and now I am blessed to have your family in my life. I've said it many times, but I need to say it again. It's as if I've always been a part of your family, and it boggles my mind that I've only known them less than two years.

Your mother, my grandmother, fills the one void that I've felt all of my life. Think about the odds that I'd meet your mother at the ripe old age of 92. It's pretty amazing, isn't it? The relationship I have with her is very special to me and I'd like to think that you're somewhere out there smiling about the joy both of us feel when we are on the phone together.

On your birthday, I can think of no better gift than to tell you that I am proud of the man that I've come to know through your family. I am proud of the fact that you are my father. I am proud that you were such a kind and gentle man, and seemed to want to take care of everyone around you. I think you'd be proud to know that these traits are things that my sons and I share as well. You've given the three of us many gifts- even though we've never met. Isn't that amazing? I sure think so.

Tomorrow night, I will step away from the guests, light a candle in your honor, and think about you for a while. I hope that somehow, wherever you are, you'll feel and understand the things I've been thinking. I just wish I could say them to you in person.