Just start somewhere

I am not sure where to start with all this.  I am new to blogging and this poses a dilemma for me.

In the past, I wouldn’t consider myself a perfectionist but these days I have to wonder.  I find fault in many things.  I am negative about things that I do.  I am negative about things that I’m not doing because I am not doing them.  Sometimes I find fault in silly little stuff, other times it is big things. Lol, well at least they seem big to me.  Usually, the faults I find are with everything that I do but sometimes it is in other people’s work.  More often than not, I get so wrapped up in the idea that something I do might be messed up, that I won’t even bother trying.

A friend of mine encouraged me to write this blog.

You see, I am so worried about messing things up because my mom will find fault in just about anything that I do.  I can clean something spotless but when she walks in she will find something wrong.  I have two kids and while she praises me for some things, she points out things that I’m not doing right.  I’m not really doing things wrong, last time I checked my children weren’t delivered with instruction manuals.  I might actually be doing everything right but I am not doing things the way she wants them done.  She doesn’t have any control over it so she has to say something to make me second guess myself.

Evidently, I haven’t always been like this.  I do remember when I was in high school and I was set on going to college.  It was a major university that was an hour and a half away from home.  I couldn’t wait to leave home.  I had a boyfriend that I had dated for a while and we had even talked about marrying when I finished school but half way through my senior year we broke up.  That story will have to wait.  Back to me having confidence that somewhere along the line I lost.

I worked hard to get into the college that I just had to go to.  It even took me a year to figure out that my parents weren’t there to control me.  My parents were very protective when I was growing up and I guess I was determined to get out of their house.  So I did.  It was great….then a friend from high school died and my grandfather died, all in the same weekend, my ex boyfriend from high school contacted me, I had to deal with all this and then I realized that I didn’t have mom and dad telling me where I could go and what I could do.  I started drinking.  I wasn’t taking classes because it was summer and I had gone to school from the fall of my senior year until the summer after my freshman year in college.  I was working but I was running up bills.  By the time fall rolled around, I had debt that I couldn’t figure out how to pay and I was back in classes.  My dad gave me a speech about making the grades and he would figure out the money but I knew he couldn’t afford my school.  So during Christmas break, he told me that I was moving home.  No choice, no discussion.  Just packed up….well kind of packed….if you call boxes and garbage bags packed.  You see because I had no choice I didn’t know that I was moving home until he told me and we went to get my things.  I was angry but I had no job, they had bought my car for me, I didn’t make the grades and I couldn’t argue.  I was raised to respect my elders and my parents, so I didn’t argue.  I moved home and found a job.

That was quite some time ago….but it was the beginning of a pattern.

I am working on breaking this pattern.  The post that will follow will not only give you more insight to who I am and how I got where I am but they will also show you how I am changing and how you can too.  I am not sure where to start so I am just starting somewhere.