The Voice in my Head is Never Silent

How is our neighbour, okay the old guy three houses down, able to keep his lawn so damn green in the height of a blisteringly nasty summer? I mean we’ve had a record number of days over 35 degrees and yet…?

Why must I ask this every time I go for a run. Running is supposed to quiet or focus my mind.

There are a few properties like this, where it seems no matter how many days of boiling summer heat we go through in a row, those lawns stay green. The rich dark green of the tiny leaves never fades. They don’t even have token brown patches anywhere. How do they scare those away?

Stop thinking these things, they are a distraction, nothing more.

What is going on with munchkin? How long can I keep doing my job until I break?

Stop thinking like that, focus on something else.

Why did the middle aged women whose house I just jogged past, decided to rip her top off in front of an open window. She wasn’t wearing a bra, eww I didn’t need to see that.

Quick think of something else.

I need a distraction.

How many people live in the realm of distractions? How many use them as I do, to semi-silence the constant worry?

I’ve tried to fit in. Sometimes. But only because it seems as though it’s the right thing to do. Even that feeling only goes so far. People I work with all fill their social media feeds with activities and parties. I hear all about the wild, and apparently fun antics, they got up to on the weekend when I next see them at work, and all I can think of is why?

Why do they think I care? Why do they think it should be shared with everyone?

Why would I want to fill my spare time getting drunk and stupid with the people I work with? They’re okay as associates but we’re not really friends. I don’t want them to be.

I don’t fit.

In some ways I never have and yes that makes me a little sad sometimes. Not enough to really want to change myself just to fit. Instead I just withdraw further.

Such is the way of the introvert. I suppose. All the lure that outside activities have for some people just makes me feel exhausted. I would rather be home on the couch with a book, then getting drunk with work buddies.

What could possibly have possessed that guy to paint his gate bright yellow? It only brings more attention to the fact he’s hoarding stuff. I wonder if there is anything really interesting in those piles of stuff? What ever happened to that amusement park fortune teller in a box thing. I can’t have imagined that surely? I wonder where on earth he picked it up from?

Enquiring minds want to know.

Well, I want to know. Does that make me weird? I don’t see how, surely it’s interesting.

I know other people’s minds don’t work like mine. Racing constantly, hopping from one idea to the next? What would that be like? Is it quiet? If mine would do that would I be able to relax easier?

How does going out and doing stupid things make people happy? Maybe they are actually happy that they don’t remember what they did…

I just don’t get it. I can’t be the only one. Can I?

I mean most people seem happy with their existences, except when they’re not. They get up, got to work, bitch about their boss, do something social with others on the weekend. Rinse and repeat. Why doesn’t that seem appealing to me?

My breathing doesn’t feel quite right today. Left foot, right foot. Just keep swimming. Okay there is is, just a hiccough. I’ve still got more in me.

How do we measure those things: happiness and success?

Just because I’m unappreciated at work, doesn’t make me unsuccessful? Not really. It’s gotta be pretty normal to think that way.

I’m good at my job, not that it would matter if I sucked. It pays my bills, with enough left over for a little fun, that probably makes me a success.

Does success in any other way matter? Not if it means I have to kiss arse like Keith. The guy is so incompetent yet the bosses….Fat chance I’m going to start doing that.

You’ve got to stop thinking about work.

Think of something else. Anything else.

How the hell can I help RL? I wish someone would give her a job. It’s not easy for her, I get that. People see her ticks and judge her. Even when they don’t she judges herself.

Why did this have to happen to her? I don’t know how to help her overcome her lack of confidence, her worst enemy is her own thoughts. No point telling her that again, I can’t handle another eye rolling. Even when I tell her she’s awesome she…I wish I could help her find her place.

I guess all parents must face the fact there comes a time our kids simply don’t want our help. I know the answer to what is causing her so much pain, but she thinks it can’t possibly be the same thing. If she’d just do what I tell her she’d could avoid some of this stuff. I went through all that crap, she shouldn’t have to. Why won’t she freaking listen?

Her not listening doesn’t make me a failure. It makes her a teenager.

Am I a failure as a parent though?

Maybe the reason she is struggling now is because I made the wrong choices when she was younger. Should I have been tougher? More lenient? Maybe it would’ve been better if I hadn’t let her set her own pace for certain things? I thought I made the right decisions, but now…

What the hell. People are such idiots and it’s a good thing I’m honest. Seriously. You are just asking for trouble leaving your car running on the kerb, whilst you race inside to grab something you forgot. How unbelievably stupid…

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One foot after another.

All I can really do is continue to be there for them. Provide what I can, show how much I love them and hope like hell I’ve done enough, taught them enough that they come out the other side safely.

Don’t let go of hope, even though it’s hard. Maybe more so when it is hard.

The thoughts… they never stop. It must be nice to know a kind of peace without a racing mind. I might need to order more melatonin. It would be great if it did more than just let me get to sleep, though I’ll take what I can get. One day my sleep will be unbroken for longer than three hours at a time.

Pay day this week. Mustn’t forget the car and the phone. I’ll need to keep a tight grasp on the food budget. I think there is still a bunch of stuff in the freezer, I have to check when I get home. Damn I think someone said we were out of coffee. I wish they’d tell me this stuff before we have to have it.

Am I having a mid-life crisis?

Thought that was a man thing. Actually it’s more I felt we should get a reprieve because you know, that damn menopause thing. Those stinking hot flushes that have people looking at you askance. The pools of sweat I wake up in, in the middle of the night, are much worse than I ever thought they would be. It’s just nasty waking up at like two thirty in the morning and having to change the sheets because they’re soaked in sweat like someone dumped a bucket of water on you.

And yet.

If I wrote my thoughts down, whoever read them would probably be shaking their head. They’d probably think I’m crazy. My year five teacher would have me write a hundred lines about sentence structure. I’ll never forget that ruler slapping down on the desk as she uttered the words, ‘rude girl, rude girl, one hundred lines’.

Did she suffer from a mid-life crisis? Is that why she was always so grumpy? She seemed ancient at the time but she can’t have been much older than I am now. That’s a scary thought.

Time changes so many things. I am now balanced on my mid-life precipice. Stay in a job I know, that pays well, that I’ve had for a decade but frustrates me no end, or jump into the unknown?

Do I choose for me or for others? How does my decision affect the family? I’ve put everyone else first for so long. Isn’t that what a mum is supposed to do?

I’ve gotten better at self care, it just needs to fit within my budget. Moments of self care should be enough right? I adore my family and I’d do anything for them, but how do I balance these things?

How do some people keep their lawns so green?

It’s a conundrum. Or is it just a trick?

The sunset is really beautiful. The way the colours are splashed across the sky, painting the horizon in a way that will never be seen in exactly the same way again.

I should be happy, and if not happy at least content. Why am I not content?

I’ve done things that have people shaking their heads in wonder.

I can grab a hot pizza and a cold drink and enjoy the beauty of nature around me. I am fortunate to have this and yet…

Small moments make me smile, I’d like to rest in them a bit longer, but my thoughts they have to race.

Mid-life crisis is real, just not in the new car, hot young thing kind of way. I think it is more like dissatisfaction with where you are and what you’ve achieved. I look at what I’ve done, and it’s a lot. I’m not done though.

I’m here in the middle and I know I still have so much more to offer. I think this discontent is my soul’s way of tell me I need a change. To not let what happened in the first half of my life, limit me or prevent me from taking a new direction now.

Life is an adventure. What’s the sea change of the mind? Is there such a thing?

I don’t know all the answers. I never will. And I’m okay with that. It means there will always be something else to learn.

But how do I help my daughter? She just won’t listen to me. In some way I know I need to let it go.

Don’t become an ear worm, don’t become an ear worm.

I have to trust that she can and will make the right decisions.

I need to forget my own safety net and jump into my new future, the one I want, just because I want it. I have to hope for happiness. I’m tired of coming home grumpy and frustrated. The family has to be tired of me coming home like that. I think I’ve been doing okay at not dumping it on them. Something is going to give though.

I’m good at telling people to look after their mental health as a priority, but don’t seem so good at doing it myself. I know exercising helps. It’s why I make myself do it. I know I feel better after no matter how hard it is to drag my butt out the door.

We’re getting better at talking about this sort of stuff. A little. There’s still a long way to go. It can be so different for everyone. Maybe that’s why I’ve spent time thinking my issues don’t fit anywhere along that spectrum. I don’t like having to fit into boxes.

I nearly broke not that long ago. I’m not going to do that again. I can’t.

All the colours loose their shine, becoming lacklustre. I don’t want to get to the point where the beauty of the sunset is lost to me.

The feeling of being pulled into the quicksand. Trapped in a grey space.

How many more times can I pull myself out? As many as I need to I guess. I’ll never not try.

I think I know what I’m going to do about the job. The old one won’t care if I’m not there. Someone will fall into the gap I leave. There’s nothing I can do for my girl at the moment. Just be there when she needs me. Tell her I love her so she doesn’t forget. Remember to say no, because sometimes yes is more damaging.

It’s tricky, but parts of life are always going to be tricky.

I refuse to succumb to staying curled up on the couch binge watching Prime. Winning over that always feels good.

I still really want to know though, in a climate like ours, with the weather so hot, how does my neighbour keep his lawn so damn green?