The Calm after the storm

Right after my latest rant fest/melt down things have looked brighter. For one the next day son comes home with a bouquet of flowers and tells me how he appreciates me and loves me. The same morning I'm not yelling for baby girl to hurry up and eat, no arguments or break downs (mine) and homework after school is a breeze. She gets it, no complaining, no whining. And the crazy part is that I should be PMSing like a lunatic right now. I mean full blown anxiety, rage of hormones but nothing.

I'm not sure if part of it has to do with my diet, well I have been eating seaweed soup every day for the last two weeks. Not for every meal but at least twice a day and eating whatever else I want. I first started with just eating a soup diet but I got turned off by the first few days, so I figured why not go to having Korean seaweed soup. It really good for you and it wouldn't hurt after all this is what I had for every meal after the birth of my kids. So maybe since it's high in calcium it helping? I don't know but the fact my mind/emotions are not out of control gives me some hope that either I'm finally becoming my old self or its just sick twisted joke to make me realize how much I miss being normal! Either way I guess I better enjoy while it last.

Being Present

It seems so obvious and simple that it is completely missed and over looked. That being in the present and not looking forward or back is the key to contentment. I realize being present in the right now is so difficult for me to do. My mind is usually occupied with things in the past or looking into the future when today passes me by and I wonder where it went. This has been my life for the past 6 years, always regret for one thing or another, always envying other people's lives, wanting what I think they have, not appreciating what I have, not being present in my life, finding excuses for why I do not. So it stops now, I know what is good for me and I know when I'm falling into the pit of darkness. Instead of falling I need to reach out and grab hold of the supports that are within my reach. I need to grab with my hands and pull myself out, instead of watching myself sink within the fog. It's time I fought instead of going down passively. So I live in the present, being aware of the right now and when my emotions and mind float away call it out for what it is and not go away with it. Iam not my emotions or thoughts, they are only a reaction to my fears and doubts, not the person Iam.

Thought

To be categorized, labeled, grouped, clustered, classed, named, slotted and defined we are a part of society, to others even to our self. In the ways of man we label everything in our world, and if there is not a label we seek one out to define it to shove it in what believe it to be fitting. However we change and reassign because "new" things have been discovered when in reality we never knew all there was to know. This is how we define our lives, trying to fit into a certain group, a subset of beliefs we believe to be ours or ones we think we may want. But in reality we are not stagnant, we change constantly, we age, our thoughts and opinions and beliefs change. Yet we see ourselves in this distorted way of what we were groomed to be seen as ideal even though we do not really believe it. As we grow older we start regretting the past, the choicest we've made or our reactions to things in our past but more than anything we regret hating ourselves for reasons so shallow and distorted.

As much insight as we think we have about our past younger selves we still abuse ourselves for who we are today. Not enjoying who we are today but trying to be thinner, healthier, richer, more successful, and maybe even kinder because we can never be satisfied with what we are today because we are constantly looking backward or forward not in the present. We do not like ourselves in the present even though we swear we are wiser than we were yesterday and surly 10 years ago but in fact we don't want to see who we are today. The lines that do not go away after we smile, the dark sun spots that are scattered around our face and body, the grey hairs that seem to double nightly. The gut that hangs over, the rolls that lay on the back and the jiggle that keeps wiggling long after we've sat down.

2011

2010 came and went in a flash...I know time goes by faster as we age but wow this year really went by fast. On the positive note I went through much of it out of the fog, being present and making changes within myself getting better. Not saying I'm ok, prefect because I don't think that will ever be the reality for me. But being able to have my bad days, hell everyone has bad days and not being consumed by the fog. Even though for a bit there I felt over come with dread and the depression dragged my ass back into the abyss but this time I came up rather quickly into the surface. I say this fearing I'm only jinxing myself that admitting this, writing it down will most definitely cause the depression to embrace me once again. But I know I'll be ok even if I'm dragged under because I can see it coming now and I can accept it for what it is.

Acceptance who knew that would be the key, it's mater of fighting ourselves, denying what is there, things that are ugly about ourselves and others, Expecting perfection and godliness in ourselves and others, not being able to forgive and let go of the past, to move forward and leave our baggage behind. It's funny how psychologist are often ridiculed and made fun of with their belief in that most of our problems stem from childhood, that the things we experienced and learned are the root of our problems and psychosis as adults. Even though I was a psychology major I didn't believe that either. Because I felt like that as adults we are free to choose, to make decisions on our own, but now looking at my self I realize so many of my fears and anxieties extend from my experiences as a child. That my fears, disappointments, self doubt/hate come from that innocent child that learned how to cope and deal with life, to survive. Having my own children those fears surface in many forms, they battle within my mind through my emotions.

In so many ways I'm better than I was a year ago but there is yet so much to learn and grow. I know I speak about having to change but that seems harsh and forceful when in reality I'm not a stagnant being but one that grows (physically and mentally)and evolves. As long as I'm open and willing to learn the changes can take place on their own. So my resolutions for this New Year are to be patient with my children and self, to find inner peace and quiet all the noise, to live in the present and enjoy what I have, find a job and be a better wife. And of course exercise but that fits in with the inner peace.

Trying

I have been trying to work on this beast within myself and at times I have felt that I have overcome the grasp that slowly pulls me down within my internal abyss of darkness. There are great days, so that I feel like I have rebounded into my life, into my old self and this flabby shell of an body isn't me but my former self is waiting to emerge out. But then I awaken in fear, trying to reach for that light, it's there right in front of me within reach but I cannot reach it. I fall into the dark, the dull void pulls me in oozing around my body not wanting to let go. I fight this time because I do not want to fall back into the darkness, I want to walk within the light, I want to feel the warmth, I want to see what is around me, I do not want to waste my life living amongst the dead. So the battle continues within my self but then I realize there are outside factors that make me despair, that put me right back at what I had been working so hard to over come. I know I can't change the others, the things around me but I can change how I react, how I take or leave a situation. I realize most of my battles have been within myself, with myself. It maybe issues with others but the battle ground has been internal and I have brought it in. So how do I learn not to bring it in, not to take it personal, not to consume me, to quiet the voices?

Quiet the mind, I have by accident read EAT, Pray, Love and it spoke to me, it was strange because I happened upon it by chance not that I thought it would be interesting but because I found it free on my e-reader. So I read it and it made sense to me, about meditating of clearing ones mind. It seems so simple to just sit and clear the mind but it is a very difficult thing to do. To have no thought about anything to focus on your breathing, to give ones mind a break. We are so inundated with noise be it from our own mind or what is around us but we forget to live in the moment. We are always constantly thinking about tomorrow the next day. I realized that in the past 6 years I had been living for tomorrow, that I don't remember much of the small details that my kids have grown and I don't remember. Time has flown by and here I sit aged and I do not know where the hell my life went.

I don't know whether it is because I'm awakening from this night mare called depression but I realize years, I don't mean months, days or even min. but freaken years have passed and I do not hold a single good memory of it all. I look at my baby and she is already 6, there is no evidence of a baby on her, all her fat has gone. My son is a senior, he is almost 18! I can't believe he will be graduating high school, almost onto his own life. I do not know how fast the years have gone by but I guess the road spiraling down into depression is a fast and unforgiving one. So I trying to grasp onto the few moments I do have left with my kids before they too reach into adulthood and live their own lives.

I feel a sadness but not that I want to wallow in my own self pity but more so to state I know what I have done wrong and try to go forward from here. I started writing today because I felt like I was being pulled back down into the abyss. I wanted to write but didn't feel like writing. Even though writing used to ease me it only made things worst, like focusing a magnifying glass on a small sore which enlarged it into something greater than it really is. I'm trying to learn to be grateful, I'm trying to control my anger, I'm trying to be forgiving, I'm trying to live in the moment. I do not want to fall back into the abyss, I want to move forward, in the moment, to take the good and bad but not to dwell on it.

Our Limits

I've reached my limit, the point of where I have ignored my own needs but now I want out. I want out of this so called life of mine, I want out of this self-sacrificing shit, I want out of doing what's best for the kids, over looking that I basically carry on conversations with myself..that I do not have a support system in which to meet my needs. Yes I've blown my cover, but the thing is I don't feel depressed about it but angry..pissed off as hell and I'm not going to take it. Maybe its the process but I'm tired of trying to do whats right or to have it thrown in my face, to be ignored and walked on, I'm tired of giving up what little identity I had before, something I had worked so hard to achieve to fizzle within a few months, I'm tired of following fucked up tradition and culture norms to be accepted. I want out and I want to live the life I always wanted but never had the balls to pursue. It's kinda fucked that we should receive the confidence and self belief to pursue our dreams as children however most of us get so fucked up then that it takes us a life time to figure out we are ok only to let most of our lives has passed us by.

Even to this day I'm still trying to figure out why the fuck I'm so screwed up, I want to have self confidence and assurance that a woman my age should have but I feel like a lost child, not knowing which directions I should go to, I do not feel one ounce of confidence or belief that I could succeed in anything. I'm afraid as hell of what I can do..should I go back to school, can I go back, do I really think I could pass the classes, all the voices of doubt fill my head.

The things that make matters worst is that I don't feel appreciated for what I've done, that none of it is worthwhile, but a waste of time...my time. Maybe its selfish but you know what I need to be selfish..I'm tired of feeling wrong, tired of not taking care of me, tired of letting people walk all over me and thinking its ok. I want me back, I want to achieve my own goals, I don't want my kids to grow up thinking its ok to walk all over mom, that she doesn't have a life, that her life is to serve them..I'm sorry but being a mom isn't my only identity.

Music

I have forgotten how much I love music, they way it sooths me, the way the words express what is in my soul. It seems I had lost all aspects of my being including the emotions I feel from music. Currently I'm listening to my collection of music on my laptop and can't understand why I didn't turn on the volume and push play. Yes I'm enjoying music again...I feel alive, I feel happy. Listening to the music I want to dance, my body moves, I sway, my legs tap...I'm singing.

Being depressed really did suck out every aspect of my life. It seems strange but your are a prisoner in your own body, where you cannot control the deep darkness that grabs a hold of you, the energy and life leaves you deflated and hopeless. But you know you shouldn't feel this way but no matter how hard you try to pull yourself out of the darkness its useless. It is a scary place to be full of uncertainty and pain. You feel pathetic for feeling this way but you cannot change it...you do try but it doesn't go away only when it is ready to. I don't know if my grief ran its natural course or its the vitamins I'm taking but I'm back. I don't want to say all is well but I've felt happy, real joy and I laughed. It's been slow but this entire week I've felt happiness....yes real happiness where I feel it through out my entire body. Something I haven't felt in a very long time. I'm happy.

One step at a time

Sometimes we need to take a break away from ourselves to stop spending precious time over analyzing every thought, word, action and reaction. Not everything has a deeper meaning, sometimes things are as they are...simple and direct. It's been a long while since I have been able to focus and see the days for what they were, without living in dread, fear, and confusion. It seems like the fog has lifted but I know it lingers listlessly waiting to envelope me in its restlessness and confusing haze. But as of right now I've escaped its grasps. I know I will never completely be free of it but I know to keep ahead of it I must live in the moment. I must not look back to see why its there but move forward with my day. Yes I feel ok, even good although I fear saying those words will jinx my progress, the painful slow steps in which I have overcome it. It's a race in which I have to win, I have no choice because the reality is that I have too much depending on me to give into it. It has grasped me deeper and stronger than it has ever but I have won this race, at least for the time being I'm stronger than it.

I'm still a work in progress...I have been torn apart but I stand strong on my foundation which has never left me, a foundation in which I'm held tightly by love, my family. No matter how insecure and uncertain I have been it is the security and belief from them that has kept me from completely losing all sense of myself. They are the core strength and hope that keep me going even though I feel as if I have nothing left. They are the ones that depend on me, the ones that keep my light from burning out, the warmth that draws me back in even when I feel as if I have lost my way.

All the voices in my head.

There are voices in my head, not real voices but my own thoughts, usually of things I need to clarify, things I need to work out, unresolved issues but mostly questions. The funny thing is I usually have the answers to the questions but I guess working them out on paper or typing them here helps me see them clearly. I wish I wasn't so thoughtful (obsessive is more like it)and things were straight out forward, that I wouldn't be thinking about things all the time, like my husband. There is no other thoughts, what ifs or questions what he says and feels it what it is, there is no hidden meaning or doubt.

I remember having thoughts (daydreams) starting as a child, no talking to imaginary friends although I did hold many conversations all in my head with people. I would play out scenes, situations where I would be someone else or just me. It kept me occupied, I still do it sometimes but not as much. I guess it maybe a form of escaping although if people are around I would not do it only by myself.

I've thought I was crazy many times although if I was truly crazy I guess I wouldn't think I was crazy. I know I feel too much, that my moods are extreme and from it I write. The pain, guilt, sadness, and emptiness leads me to relieve the pressure that builds from within. It eases some but never really goes away. I dream of being normal or at least what I perceive to be normal, not to have such strong emotions and feelings. In many ways I have gotten better, I stopped being in dysfunctional relationships and realized pain doesn't mean love and security can be boring but being able to depend on your partner means more.

I don't have to second guess whether he is telling me the truth, that he was where he said he was, that he really loves me and his words aren't lies. I remember living my life in pain, full of drama, distrust and question. The emotions were so strong that it did not matter what I felt, but I felt so tired. I could not live my life that way, I had a child depending on me and how could I build a foundation out of lies and deceit. So I moved on, it was hardest thing I ever did leaving him but I had to for my son for me. The pain I had felt from him ripped my heart apart, I felt it ripping through my very being, it seemed surreal. All I wanted was to love him, for him to love me. I thought I could make him change, so I changed, I did more, the harder I tried the further he went away from me. It took awhile for it to snap in but it did.

He punched me in the head, again but this time was the last time. Hell my father had never hit me and there was no way I would let some stupid guy hit me...I had taken the cheating, lying, drinking, drugs and emotional abuse but not this. Somewhere deep within my pathetic shriveled up soul I found my courage and strength to leave him. I look back today its been 14 years since that day and I can not believe that was my life. I feel ashamed for being so pathetic, so pitiful to have loved someone so unworthy of my love, but more than anything I hope my children never feel that type of pain. My greatest fear for them is feeling so bad about themselves that they would not give themselves the chance and dignity to be in such a relationship to begin with. I can say if I had some self esteem, pride or love I would have never been involved with him, with any of them but I did not.

I have so much to say, I start off writing about one thing and it leads into an entire new direction of thought. I didn't start this post thinking I'd write about that part of my life but it was something that needed to be revisited. It doesn't hurt me like it used too or mean as much which I guess means I have healed.

Who I'am

It seems after 36 years I would know who "I'am" but I do not. It seems like every time I felt close to what I thought would me evolved to something I did not recognize or even like. Growing up with insecurities, low self-esteem and uncertainty seemed traits only I had, denying being an child of a immigrant parents made me this way. I remember clearly talking to the school counselor in 7Th grade about trying to kill myself.

My best friend had wrote an paper about her friend who wanted to kill herself...I was that friend so I had to go meet with the school counselor. I was nervous and scared...I don't think I actually drank that day, although at the time it's what got me through these painful years. All I remember was that she (counselor) told me she understood that my pain stemmed from my parents being immigrants....she pissed me off because this was my own self-hatred and had nothing to do with my parents (so I thought). She explained that she too was a daughter of German immigrant parents and she too knew of my pain. I felt anger and hatred for her, what did the hell did she know, she was white she could not know how much I hated being Korean. It wasn't my parents but me, my own self loathing of my small nose, almond eyes, and dark hair not my parents.

I did not understand at the point what impact it had on me and my brothers that my parents were never home. That being a immigrant from Korea did have a huge impact on what we were and who we would become. I never thought of myself as the typical smart Asian student...please I was far from it. My second older brother was smart in that he was very good in math but I did not have that gift. Nope, the only thing I enjoyed doing was reading, writing and drawing. Although I dreamed about being a dancer, singer or an actress. But maybe the Asian in me kept my future in check. It wasn't realistic besides not everyone could make it nor be successful in it. Besides it's not like I had any true talent.

My parents always encouraged us to get good grades, however they did not know how to help us, they did not give us the tools because they did not know. They were too busy trying to survive in a country that was not theirs, raising their children in a culture so different from their own all while scrapping together every cent to buy a home. In the eyes of society they succeeded, they came to the United States with not a cent to their names but accomplished the American Dream. They bought their own home without any help from public assistance. They worked hard for everything the had...they bought cars for their kids when they turned 16 even though they never went out to dinner by themselves. They sacrificed their own lives for their children and family although at the same time they were destroying themselves. It's their self sacrifice that has gave us our lives, this chance.

Looking back at my parents lives (as well as other family members) I understand they have lived their lives from a very different time, not just culturally different. They were from the old school generation who experienced the war, hunger, basic survival so unlike the experiences we faced. To say that we were just influenced by different cultural ideologies and understandings would be a stretch. They were trying to adapt to a new world, new ideas all awhile trying to keep the familiar, trying to instill the virtues and beliefs of yesterday to their children who painfully tried to fit into today.

To say I was the only one to feel the pain and self doubt would be a lie, after coming upon so many personal blogs on the web about other Korean American people, ones who had similar experiences as mine if not the sheer doubt and pain of being different, not being accepted. I realize who "I'am" today results from these experiences, the experiences of my past, of my parent's past, that we are all intertwined together. That the foundation of who we are extends from them and coming from immigrants that do not know their place in a new society it is hard to pass on confidence and ability to their children. But even so many immigrant parents do just that, they pass on roots, foundation of self through tradition those we may have fought so hard against while growing up but now embracing as adults. Some lucky ones have embraced theirs sooner but most have not understood until they too became parents.

Once we became parents we were able to feel the love, fear, pain and joy it meant to have a extension of ourselves. All the dreams and hopes we may have lost long ago were reborn with this new chance. So we slowly began to understand our parents, slowly the words that seemed so repetitive and annoying became wise and precious. We began to understand the words sometimes that seemed cruel or cold came from a warm place of love. Love for us, the love our parents showed us were neither through words or even embraces but through actions, commitment and always standing by us after pushing us down. It is their love for us that kept us going even though we thought we were so alone, they stood beside us.

I realize this now that even though I had my son at 20, not married my parents never kicked me out. They could have after all, parents do it all the time, disowning their children. I wasn't following their rules and did what I wanted but they never abandoned me...sure there were many expressions of disappointment and shame from my mom but they never lost hope in me. They continued to love me not in words or by hugs because that wasn't their way but by keeping me close, supporting me in ways I did not understand.

The parts of me I did not understand or hated became my source of strength and power. From my understanding of my past, my parents history can I face the future, my children's future.

The truth is in front of us.....

Finally the entertaining and family get together are over and I can take a breather. It wasn't so bad as I pictured in my warped mind but nice and fun. Even though I had budgeted for Christmas I blew the budget, I didn't want to stress over the money and decided I would just deal with it when the bills came. Besides we are already in debt and I wanted to have a less stressful Christmas...hell we can't have a budget when we got guests to entertain! But be it in the universe, star whatever it all worked it self out. I got some serious money for my birthday...all in cash so that helped, and the hubby got his bonus (rumor was there wasn't one this year) so even with property taxes, homeowners insurance and auto insurance and the holidays we did ok.

I'm relieved its all over...I'm hoping for a better year and so far it's been ok. Today we took the kids out for a hike and it was really nice to get out and sweat. I packed some sandwiches and snacks and ate on the trial, there was a water fall..small but nice. My cousin and her family joined us, I think we must have hiked like 5 miles or so, with a baby and two preschoolers so that in itself was a feat besides our asses not being in shape. I even signed up baby girl for a gymnastics class for every Tuesday for 6 weeks so I'm trying to venture out and spend time with her, besides I need to get her ready for kindergarten since we will be sending her in September. She is so ready I can tell, that's one thing I need to do and that is pay attention to her needs. I haven't done all the things I did with my son, I guess you do become more relaxed after each child. I 'm not worried though...I'm not obsessing over her learning her ABC's or 123's or any of that shit. I figure she will learn fine at school...I'm not worried.


I realized most of my anxiety and depression extends from trying to control my mom's life, well that is protecting her and shielding her even though it's not possible. I have over extended myself in trying to do everything all while neglecting my own kids and husband. Following in my parents footsteps in taking care of others instead of focusing on my own kids and my needs. Change is hard but we get to a point where we must either accept it as it is or change ourselves. It can't go on like this forever because we know that is not possible, it never is. I don't think its possible that one day it just clicks but gradually it does. We get to the point where we can't, we won't let it go on further. We've reached our breaking point and one way or another it has to change because things can't go on anymore as they have. Sure ignoring it going through the motions only last or so long...the damn is going to burst only so many attempts in patching the leaks till the damn comes crumbling down.

I've reached the breaking point and I'm working on me, I don't like what I've become but more so I don't want this to be the mom my kids remember. So I choose to live my life the way I should, the life I want to live...I want to live that way because after all we have only one life. I don't want to regret anymore, I don't want to look back and think wow i wasted all those years when I could have done the things I wanted too. So I choose to move forward and in the direction I want, not let it pull me. I'm giving myself a chance.

Begging and wishing

It's the cutest thing ever Lucky came to us "pre-owned" and with it we were super lucky to say the least...she came fully potty trained but not only that she also "begs", totally cute and irresistible. As my mom says how can I not give her any food, besides everyone is in love with her. She greets everyone who comes into the house, so friendly gentle and lovable. So she's got a fan club because she has the ability to make everyone she comes in contact with special by giving them attention and love.

We've got family members who never considered owning a dog wanting a dog just like her, my mom said to me "You will giver her to me right since I will be alone?" She actually coos and talks to Lucky like a baby and says Lucky is better than a person because she gets up and runs to the door to greet her. She picks her up and cradles in her arms and of course feeds her even though we tell her not to since although cute as she is "begging" its not a good habit. So as like with all the grandchildren she does not listen to what I say but spoils Lucky. I can get over it after all if spoiling Lucky brings her some joy fine.

I worry about her since she has no other life than working...I actually told her I'd wish she would date. She thinks I'm crazy, she says she will never do that, she is waiting to join my dad. I told her he's probably pimping it up there with a bunch of young women while she is worried about being with him! I can't say I admire that about her but I can understand...I find it sad because her entire life was about her husband and his family. She lived her life as a good daughter-in-law of the eldest son however she expects so little from her own daughter-in-laws, although it seems like I fulfill those needs. I don't mind but I wish she would stop living like a martyr because it's hard having a mother that is so damn self sacrificing and a saint. Cause you know what I'm tired of filling those shoes, I've had more than my share of self sacrificing and abuse. I want me time and not feel guilty about it...I want her to take a new outlook of her life and finally live for herself. So maybe I'm wishing for far more than what can be but maybe just maybe with time she can actually have her own life, one that she wants to live, really live not just waiting to die.

That's my wish for Christmas this year for my mom to want to live, to have a fresh start in a new life that she is able to enjoy and find the joy that could be her life! I believe this will help me in my own life, to live my life as I should, to the fullest without regrets, with hope and desire not just wanting to escape, wishing it to be over, to really live. I do want to live, not to go through the motions but create the life I want to have. To be grateful of all that I'm blessed with, so this Christmas Santa please please bring my mom a real desire to want to live her a life and I promise I will live my own!

"You can't...."

"You can't let her watch this kind of stuff mom, she is too young. She's not supposed to be liking boys till like she is 10, she supposed to think they are yucky!"
This is what my 15 year old son told me 5 min. ago because the tv is on and zoey 101 is on. Not that baby girl is really watching it, but since he changed the channel she had a fit. They have been on each other's back since he got home 2 and half hours ago. Go figure I didn't think there would be sibling bickering with a age gap of 11 years, figured wrong!

My son is already so overprotective of his baby sister, he's told me he doesn't want her to grow up to be a stupid girl he wants her to do sports, he doesn't want her to wear skirts or shorts. He says he knows what boys think about when they look at girls, he doesn't want that for his baby sister. He says "boys are dirty mom, they really are, I know how they are cause I know how I'm". He actually left wrestling class because they had a sub and they were just standing in the gym watching the cheerleaders. He said he felt like a pervert, he thought the sub was one too, they weren't doing anything but just standing around watching the cheerleaders so he and friend left. He felt like he was being disrespectful and didn't want to be. He made me laugh but I was proud to know he had respect for females and not to act on things, even if he thought it.

I have two older brothers and they were never that over protective of me. I feel bad for baby girl cause she not only has a dad but a big brother protecting her. Baby girl is a girlie girl, so unlike me, at least not that I remember. She loves Disney Princesses and Barbie and at first I was determined for her not to like that crap. I hated the idea of her falling into the Princess crap, being helpless waiting for her Prince charming but then I realized I shouldn't push my ideologies on her yet. She loved baby dolls since she was 9 months old, pretending to breast feed her toys. She is drawn to glittery stuff, pink stuff, but she also loves the color blue. She chooses her clothes, she brushes her hair, she hates being dirty, whenever she comes in from anywhere she goes into the bathroom to wash her hands.

I want my kids to be themselves, without me telling them what to be. I want to give them all the tools to be the best people they can be, yet not to short change themselves by taking the easy way out. Sometimes I fear without experiencing hardship and want they will not be grateful of everything they do have. However I realize we can't compare our lives to theirs, just like i can't compare my life from my parents. Different circumstance and time, unless you live through it you can not understand. So be it I will try and parent without too much judgement and no "when I was your age" stories although I may have slipped up on both. So I will try and let them be their own individuals with support and understanding to the best of my abilities. I will slip up as I have, I will push them in directions that may have been my own but in the end I will give them the tools and confidence to become the very best they can be to be happy. That's what matters in the end, loving and believing in themselves.

Simple

I tend on to hold onto things from the past, dreaming of the future and not live in present. It' saddens me because I realize I do not like today, I'm always waiting for tomorrow to happen, when I believe things will get better. Before I know it times has past and I don't remember living it because I haven't. I have let hours, days, years slip past my fingers trying to be something else, to improve, to be better. But I only see the shadow of my former self, the hopes, dreams and energy of youth are far gone. Physically I have changed wrinkles, aged, gained weight, I lack the luster and hope of youth. .I'am weathered and beaten far before my years. I do not recognize this person I’ am, if it weren't for the pictures of my former self I would find it hard to believe I was ever young, hopeful or bright.

But I do not hate myself as I did in my former years, I accept who I'm although now I wonder if acceptance is better. I do not know whether just by the extremes I had lived in my younger years I have aged so or have I lost all ability to hope and dream. I'm only 35 going on 36 years but I feel like I'm in my sixties, I feel much older than I'm supposed to be. I do not like this new self, the shell that is although I do not wish to go back to the recklessness of my yester years.

They say youth is wasted on the young but with age I notice we become bitter, scarred from our battles, the enthusiasm of youth, the novelty far gone. I don't know if I would trade all the knowledge in the world because with this we lose our wonder, delight and awe of the simpler things in life. Things become more complicated, nothing is right or wrong, there are always different perspectives and view points, nothing is black and white, good or evil but all different shades of grey.

I miss the simpler times, I wish for the desire and fire to be within myself but all that is left are ashes. Cold and grey, it is empty.

Reading

I used to love reading spending days enamoured with a book until I consumed the last pages. I could not have enough because it let me escape, to live another life, to feel, experience in some one elses life escaping my own. It has been years since I have read with such fervor and relish as I did as a child, but I long to hold that enchantment and escape. I miss the connection however abstract with the books I read. I miss it all, to widen my world even though I'm chained into my own reality. The escape I have needed I have sought in books, as before. I started reading Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, for some reason I had never read this book but heard of it so often I found it online. I finished it half an hour ago and even though it did not enrapture me as other books it gave me thought and reflection. I led me away from my own dreary life to another time, another life, to step outside of my own pitiful complaints and boredom. I finished the book in two days, reading, devouring the book with such hunger for I had been famished for mental intellect.

The greatest joys I 've had were of learning of things new and different, school brought time joy although the testing always turned me off the learning always lite a fire of curiosity and pleasure for me. It is refreshing to know that I'm still enlightened and fulfilled by my mind, I feel refreshed and curious to learn, I feel a little light has shinned into my deep dark cave leading me to the light I so desperately sought. I feel hope, and I'm not completely lost..the insanity has either completely taken over or the fog has lifted for today. Regardless I feel a bit more of my old self, I need to challenge my mind and seek out my yearning of learning new things.

...sleepless in southern california

Well it's 1:22am and I'm awake not by insomnia but by a 4 year old old. She is currently in the office with her father who is playing WOW(world of war craft). She went to sleep quickly after she was read two stories by daddy but woke up 30 min ago. I tried to comfort her and told her to go back to sleep, for I was barely starting to fall alseep myself, however she couldn't do it. Tossing, turning, and whimpering looking for daddy all while laying on my arm.

Yes she still sleeps with us, that may be the reason of my insanity. The reason I have no real identity but only know as "mommy"is this but "mommy" swore to herself to be more patient and understanding but I'am not. So I find myself here typing into a bright blaring screen in the pitch dark. I can hear his voice, her voice...I can not comfort her cause she wants daddy as of right now I can't, I don't want to comfort her.

A part of me feels bad the hubby isn't getting to enjoy his time, did I mention he is a computer nerd. Before we met his time was spent either at work on a computer or at home on a computer playing Everquest. His addiction to gaming has stopped since we've married and had baby girl. However he gets his one night of game time when baby girl and I sleep. Ok she sleeps and I lay awake watching late night tv, reality shows. I give him this after all it is his vice, addiction, hobby, source of pleasure. So begrudgingly I "allow" his time after all even with only 3-4 hours of sleep he comes with me to my moms to work.

I'm jealous, angry even...why? Because he gets to spend the day away from her, me and has conversation and interactions with others while I spend my days watching Dora and trying to entertain a four year old. I don't get a break, she follows/stalks me to the bathroom, it's like Big Brother watching me all the time although this is Little Sister.

How I yearn for the days of sleep without a sore, stiff arm while laying completely flat on my back. Not really sleeping because I'm always covering her up,-she kicks off her blankets, has moved too close to the edge of the bed, is flipped upside down. In ways I haven't sleep comfortably since the day she was born, my mom told me mother's never sleep and she wasn't kidding.

I'm tired and angry and I don't want to be. Have I been too selfless, foolish, a damn martyr? Suffering because I have created my own prison of giving every ounce of my self, only to be left with an empty, angry shell? Who but I , am to blame...I have sacrificed myself in the name of motherhood only to be angry and bitter. No one has asked me to do these things but I do them and then feel angry, tired, taken advantage of where I have no one to blame but myself.

I can't even point the finger to my mother because this is my duty as mother, to suffer but I'am an adult and I have a choice. But do I.....I wish I could say I know what is right and wrong, that I live my life this way but I do not. As I grow older what used to be so clear and obvious, good or evil, black or white has turned grey. Several different shades of grey and so complicated.

I hate being this way, I hate feeling so unsatisfied and unfulfilled with motherhood, I hate that I do not know who I'am. I wish I could run away sometimes, I can understand how a woman can leave her family, just disappear one day and never come back. I do fantasize about leaving everything behind, traveling the world. Living my dream, not being afraid of being me. To stop suffering in silence but to let myself be me. But this is the family that I created, this is mine, my love, my tears, my time, my anger, and yes my sacrifices of being a mother.

Actions=Reactions

Action results in a reaction, so it shouldn't surprise me that since I'm not feeling like a caged up bear that I'm handling the baby girl's melt downs as I should and not like a crazed lunatic. I notice she has more outbursts, melt downs and tears when I'm feeling impatient and short. Or the truth is I can handle her better so she doesn't have a full blown tantrum. It lies on how I react to her, when I'm feeling the crazies I don't feel loving, patient or tolerant. Hell I can't even tolerate this skin I'm living in alone a whiny, monkey on my back pre-schooler.

Since the crazies has gone I've been patient and even nurturing...point in example last night we were in Target getting my niece a birthday present and baby girl had a melt down. She wanted a toy she saw and we told her no we weren't at the store for her but for her cousin. She actually cried and yelled out loud! Now this child has never had a tantrum in a store let alone demanding us buy her something but for the last two months since we have been staying at my mom's she has been spoiled.

My mom and aunt have been indulging in her every whim...they go out shopping together ( we call them the 3 amigos/ajumas) and they have bought her whatever she wants. This is a new thing for her so of course up till now the child who was content just going to store and looking at things demanded we get her a toy. The hubby was surprised and upset by her out burst and told her he was taking in the car. She cried louder saying"no I don't want to go outside, sorry daddy please!" Instead of getting louder and going off in korean I grabbed her arm, lowered myself to her and looked into her eyes and calmly told her "We already told you we are here for Katie's birthday present and not for you. It's not ok for you to yell or cry like this, so stop or else daddy will take you outside." And wouldn't you know she stopped...besides saying"I'm sorry mommy I won't do it again."

She continued to look at things and ask for them but for Christmas and had no more melt downs. I realise that since I didn't have a full blown cow over it she got over it faster...one thing about her she forgets easily , says I'm sorry and doesn't hold a grudge. How I love this little girl..no crazy stubbornness only when she wants me but not in wanting things her way. It's easy to love such a easy going child.

My point is that it really is important how I react to her actions and how things end really is up to me. I have a control over my reaction, I'm the adult (ok sometimes I forget) and it's up to me to defuse the situation before it gets worse. It starts with me to take care of myself before I get the crazies, to have me time , to nurture and take care of myself so I can take care and nurture the ones around me.

Blogging Friends

They say one of the most important things for woman to have are friends, a support system that understands us, that heal us, that laugh, cry and complains with us. But sometimes we lose our life supports, be it through a move, a marriage, a birth of a child, a change in a career or just paths that diverge with time. I believe all the contacts and friendships we make are for a reason, no matter how short or meaningless we may seem to think they are, or not think about them at all.

We met people all the time, mostly from work at this age and we form bonds through similarities or simple respect of each other. But for a woman with children she loses all grasp of those friendship when she becomes a stay at home mom. She not only loses a wage, a career path, but her identity. Even though she swore to herself she would never lose who she was it bound to happen with warmth of this loving little being cuddled inside her arm. Then she takes another vow to protect and fiercely protect this precious gift bestowed in her arms.

All the memories of her life before are forgotten, as the haze of bi-hourly feedings, sore nipples, and constant care of this helpless new creature needing her. Unlike any other relationship she was in before, the love was instant, over whelming and so sweet. This tiny little creature who gave you stretch marks, heartburn, hemorrhoids, and gigantic plugged up ducts came to control you like a puppet. You are only there for this new precious being, any reminisces of your life before this new being is long forgotten.

So your on your way to motherhood, the quiet suffering as you lose all sense of your self, as the body you once knew has long been gone replaced with this big flabby, bumpy, swollen thing that gives life to this amazing being. So you lose friends, and if your lucky you aren't hit with post- pardum depression, and yet even as exhausted. It's all profoundly new and there are times of frustration and tears but still you keep it together enough to get that precious new being to be fed, bathed, clothed and diapered.

You feel so alone and even when you connect with friends with kids or new moms it still feels so alone. You feel like you are the only woman in the world to feel the lack of sleep, the crazy moments of weeping as the hormones change. You feel your world become hazier and hazier and you don't remember the days when you felt energized and awake. It seems like you never knew another life without sore, swollen boobs, diaper changes and spit up. But the sweet, angelic smile of your new being eases the pain, numbs the soul, as you slowly slip away.

Fast forward a few years and now your a full fledged mom, bigger literally and figuratively speaking. The former life before baby seems so far ago and you can't believe it actually was your own. Dance and stay out all night, drink and eat anything without worrying about getting it into the breast milk or to sleep in. So you try not to think about those days so wistfully, and convince yourself you are better, bigger, happier as your role as mom.

But deep inside you slowly die, motherhood kicks in and you know you want to do better than your own parents but unlike them you are bombarded with so much information. Too much structure,not enough, too much attention, not enough, no matter what you do you are guaranteed to screw up your kids. Then all the demons from your past come out, you are doing the things you swore you would never do with your kids, you are becoming your parent or worse you do not know how to parent, but your children have all run of your house because you are too afraid to discipline because you want to be their friend.

You become a angry because you are lost, you have given yourself completely to the point that there is nothing left to give. There is only a shell of your former self but you guilt yourself to do better, after all to be a mother is to be a martyr. Your laughter and smiles are lost replaced by frowns and screams. The wall of guilt grows higher and higher and we are forced to punish ourselves even more. After all we are our worst critics and we know we are crazy, we are the worst moms out there and that's all we are.

We have no self confidence, we cant wait until the kids go to school yet we are scared because can we go back to our former selves? Can we even get a job let alone a career? You know you can't stay at home once the kids are at school, a tiny part of you deep inside wants that desire and spark to be more. But you are so scared, you know logically you can go back but that still doesn't change the self doubt. Being a mother has strengthened you in ways you never thought possible, looking at poop and changing it without gagging, picking boogers with your bare hands, wiping up vomit without wanting to purge yourself but yet you are afraid.

Your life consists of reading the news online, then blogs and then one day you find yourself reading about other moms who actually had similar moments like you, even questioning their own sanity. They aren't stating motherhood isn't a bunch of bubbles, butterflies and rainbows but it sucks sometimes...ok a lot of the times. So the first time in a long time you feel a connection, you even have to look around because you are laughing out loud, feeling giddy and even good. Your newly acquired addiction has started and you log on daily, even in the middle of the night when you can't sleep.

You connect with these people you don't know, yet you feel their pain, disappointment and frustrations because they are like your own. You are finally able to relate you are not the only one in the world, that there are many like you out there and they are expressing themselves, baring their souls. So this motivates you to do the same, you start your own blog. You pick a anonymous name, something that can portray what you are feeling and you start writing. You keep reading others blogs, find inspiration to deal with your own demons. And then you do it, you reach out via a email or a comment because something has moved you enough. You are scared yet you feel the overwhelming pull to connect with this person, this person whom you seem to care so deeply about. A faceless person you haven't met but want to know because they are you. They convey the same feelings and thoughts you yourself have felt so many times before and you don't want them to feel that way. So in ways as you reach out to them you are reaching out to yourself.

Blogging friends are special and dear because we aren't forced to befriend them, we aren't obligated to respond if we don't want too, we choose to accept them when we are ready. This is to my new blogging friend Kia, thank you for reaching out and giving me this opportunity for our friendship.

Blogging fool

I'm doing it, keeping up with the daily writing although I do notice I start off with a certain topic and then I ramble on and on. I guess I've got a lot to say and no one to say it too. One thing I do notice is that when I just write and then publish I end up with a mess. I understand the reason behind editing however part of me doesn't not want this to be a class in critical writing. I want the freedom to express myself regardless of how incoherent or disorganized it may be. Although I do want to make some sense but than if I need to rant and rave then be it I will. After all that was the reason why I started this.

I'm trying to make it visually appealing as well and even promised to post some pictures, after all I know I enjoy reading posts with pictures. I'm becoming more aware of other bloggers and know of at least one who follows my blog so I find myself wanting to please my sole reader. :) Yep its the "krajee korean mom" in me wanting to please others. But at the same time it's actually is a good thing, why? Because it makes me responsible because I need to answer to someone else besides myself while making a connection. I guess it goes back to meeting others needs before mine, but this also makes me feel happy. Helping, giving to others give me the greatest joy...my dream job would be a philanthropist to give money to others. Second for sure is a food critic, one that travels the world and tastes different foods. Yep in my perfect world I would be a traveling food tasting philanthropist.

Yep another simple task that has turned into a psycho-social analyzes...hmmm took too many psych and soc. classes. But hey I was trying to figure out why I was crazy although I never did find the answer after all I knew it all along. I'm not crazy cause real crazy people don't think they are crazy. Hmmm doesn't make me feel better. :)

Weekend is over

It's Sunday night and the hubby and son went back home while me and baby girl are still at my mom's house. We finished sanding (ok hubby finished) , fixed plumbing for the sink, painted on the primer and laid out the tile. It looks really good if I say so myself, especially since its a first for us. I just need to paint the door, buy door hinges, then paint the room on Tuesday since it takes 24 hours for the tile to set and then grout it. Next week we will need to put in the vanity, mirror, and cabinet, reinstall the shower, and install the moldings. I can't wait for it to be done, because having everything ripped apart and in disarray stresses me out. If it was my house I wouldn't be as stressed but since its my mom's it makes me uneasy. So now I feel relief since the walls are primed and the floor is done, well clean that is.

Hopefully I will be able to get some sleep tonight since I got some physical activity today, but it's hard to sleep on this crappy old bed. Even if it was a nice new bed it's hard for me to sleep anywhere besides my own house and bed. Even then sleep invades me, I wish I could fall asleep and stay asleep like when I was younger but it seems harder and harder to fall and stay asleep. I have insomnia but I don't want to take any thing for it, I don't like to take any kinds of medicines. I'm one of those people who get the crappy side affects, if any are possible I get it so I tend not to take anything unless I have too. I only take claritin because I have allergies other wise I would not be taking that either.

I feel tired but can I can tell I'm getting PMSsy, I always get bloated, crampy, bitchy, irritable and just plain crazy when these damn eggs fall. I can actually feel which side they fall from because it hurts. When I was younger I never had these issues, seems like since I'm getting older I'm falling apart and feeling crappier by the day. I hate PMS, it sucks, I suck when I get this way...so far I'm not there yet but when I get to that point I need to keep super busy or else I will snap. I guess part of all this craziness I keeping on top if it, knowing when and what triggers me is my best defense. I guess that is also why I don't want to take any meds for the depression because even though part of it is biological/chemical another component is how I react to it. I know what the symptoms so I need to be proactive and take care of myself before I flip out. Self control, discipline, self awareness and action are required during these times. I need to be ok for my family but more so for myself.

Writing in this blog has helped since I've been keeping up it now and also having my new blog friend. It's nice to have someone who doesn't know me yet we seem to have so much in common. I guess that is what drove me to start this blog in the first place. After reading all those other blogs I realized I wasn't the only one who felt crazy, sad, tired or really mad at their kids. Made me feel human, part of a group, something I never really felt before. I love reading blogs, although I admit I can get carried away and that's all I do. It's addicting if it's a honest perspective, those are my favorite, ones that aren't censored or edited so they don't seem controversial or unpleasant or raw. But those are the best I think, straight out forward, frank and simply put.