So Maybe I Should Write Something

4 07 2011

Oh, hi. Remember me? I know, your lives have been lackluster and meaningless during my absence. I hope y’all comforted yourselves by perusing the archives here. You didn’t? Jerks.

So, here I am, and I kind of feel like my writing muscle is out of shape.

Remember back when I said if I stop talking, there’s a high probability I’m not doing well?

I’ve stopped talking.

I was hit by that realization a little over a week ago. Go ahead, try to find the last time I wrote something serious. You’ll have to do some searching—it was on Mother’s Day. Two months ago.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to this to be a super-serious blog. I love writing posts that make you (and me) giggle. Still, y’all know I’m not like that all the time, and to make my blog all sunshine and unicorns and rainbows simply wouldn’t be an honest reflection of who I am.

If I’m not being open with you, I’m not being open with myself. I’ve stopped talking, and I’m not okay.

I’m sad.

I’m lonely.

I’m exhausted.

I don’t know why I stopped telling you these things. I think I fell into a dangerous trap—the all-too-common one that says I need to be strong. Y’all have to think I’m doing well and everything really is sunshine and unicorns and rainbows, because I’m just that awesome.

If I stop and really think about that, it’s hilarious. After all I’ve written about addiction and depression, now I’m going to try to portray myself as perfect? Awesome plan, Jenny. You’re totally going to pull that one off.

Still, I want to be Jenny the Great. I want to be the mom who doesn’t threaten to set her son’s paper airplane on fire; the wife who has dinner ready when her husband gets home from work (or at least knows what dinner will be); the woman whose clothes actually make it into the drawers before it’s time to do laundry again.

I’m not any of those women. I likely won’t be any of those women for a long, long time (though hopefully I’ll soon stop threatening immolation of my son’s belongings), so rather than mope about what I’m not, perhaps I need to redefine Jenny the Great.

I don’t know who that is, but I’m going to do my best to find her.

I hope it happens fast, because talking about myself in the third person is kind of creepy.

*And now I take a deep breath, press the publish button, and launch myself back into…something. I’m not really sure what.

**Love on me a little in the comments, won’t you? I’m feeling needy.

***And bossy, apparently, though that’s nothing new. Admit it, that’s part of my charm.

****I said admit it.

*****Now dance for me.




18 responses

7 07 2011

Just picture me riding you. THAT’LL cheer you up for a moment at least… and dude, good use of immolate! YOU WIN THE INTERNET!

6 07 2011

so do you want a sexy dance or a ridiculous one?
as i type this, i have a whole bunch of laundry that has been there for a week, and a whole new pile that needs washing, yet i’m facebooking, and i have no dinner plans. come to my house and make cookies! that always makes you feel awesome!

5 07 2011

I hate the feeling that you get when you feel like you have to hide what you’re feeling. That’s how most of this past week has been for me. It sucks. But then you realize you need to let it out before you can move on to the better parts of life. It’s just a matter of getting there. You will get there. I will get there. We should work on this together!

5 07 2011
5 07 2011

A second thanks to Mike Henneke for sharing this.

I think most of us feel this way more than we want to admit. As I was recently in panic mode with all the things I can’t seem to get fixed and right in my life, I prayed to know what I needed to do, and an Ensign article was the answer. I actually went and found the whole talk she gave. It hasn’t all sunk into my spirit yet, but it got me thinking about a lot.

You’re not alone. That’s for sure.

4 07 2011
La Yen

*circus music*
There. I danced.

4 07 2011
Wendy Sparrow

I feel the same way and then when I post a happy post/tweet immediately followed by a moody post/tweet I feel bipolar. Then I feel like an ingrate because my life isn’t that bad… which makes me feel worse… and so I fake happy more…. I don’t think it works out for anyone really, but we do try anyway. It’s silly and sad, isn’t it?

I’m sorry you aren’t doing well. When my kids were younger and their off days more spectacular, I wanted to shake everyone around me and scream, “THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL LIFE!” Being the adult sometimes sucks. It blows. I’m sorry.

On the other hand, I don’t feel like dancing.

Well, okay… I mean, I did practice the jazz hands quite a bit last night just in case someone asked.

4 07 2011

Oh Jen….I’ve been the same way. Guess we need to run away together and make our own rainbows. Um……take that however you want. 😉 Love you lady. Lets make things happen! Xoxo

4 07 2011

Jen, I am sorry. It is so hard feeling like your life has to appear all butterflies and rainbows. Exactly the conundrum I find myself in all the time. Hide the hard stuff so people don’t know. After all, celestial people are ALWAYS happy right? (Something about man…and joy) so it makes us feel especially inadequate when we don’t all the time…(or maybe that’s just me). Harder when we have the expectation that motherhood should always be bliss…and that we should NEVER want to sell our children…or accidentally leave them at the supermarket…or lock ourselves in the bathroom and hope they go away.
Thank you for your continual honesty. It helps so much having some of these feelings openly aired that it helps those of us who don’t feel that we can be so open can get some relief. I will call you!

4 07 2011

Rats! I think you’re a much better actress than your dad or I ever was. It’s okay. Really. Kids are exhausting and you have then 24/7. but you’re doing a wonderful job! And despite the set backs, you’re hanging in there and that’s what really counts. Bring the kids over Tuesday. Love you.

4 07 2011

I haven’t threatened to set any of my kids stuff on fire yet but I did threaten to cut out my own eardrums so I couldn’t hear them talk and yell any more! My clean clothes are on top of my dresser because it’s been to difficult the last two months to actually open the drawers and put them away and in almost 9 years of marriage i don’t think I’ve ever know what’s for dinner until it’s on the table. The only reason I posted on my blog was because it was my SITS day after two years of waiting for it. Yup I’m awesome like that too! Besides your boys will look back on you setting fire to their paper airplanes as a great memory when they are older!

4 07 2011

Whew, I’m out of breath from all the dancing! This is my first time visiting your blog. I get what you’re saying, I *totally* get it. I hope things start to look up for you. That you find what you need to feel okay. I know for me, the first step has been accepting myself for who I am. 🙂

4 07 2011

Who said the perfect person gets the clothes to the drawer and knows what’s for dinner and makes it before her husband gets home? Maybe I’m more messed up than I thought. . .I don’t do those things. I think we all go through bouts of feeling like we aren’t good enough, that we are sad and exhausted etc. etc. (Especially those of us with depression). But, you are very insightful, so keep your head up, keep living day to day, find the gratitude in each day, even if it happens to be that your kids didn’t kill each other (oh wait, that was my gratitude yesterday). . .You are so very normal in some ways, and oh so better than normal in many others, and I really do feel privileged to know you 🙂

4 07 2011
Travis B. Hartwell

Jenny, thanks for the wonderfully candid and vulnerable (and I mean vulnerable in the sense that Brene Brown uses it) post. I understand the feelings of depression, of not living up to some image of what I (or others) think I should be. I am so glad that Mike Henneke linked to this post of yours on Google+. Interestingly, I wrote an entry much like this myself yesterday, of not being Travis the Great (to borrow your terms), of not conforming to some image of what I should be — though I wasn’t as wonderfully candid as you are here in many ways.

4 07 2011
Brett Nordquist

Few blogs really get to the core of the person doing the writing, and that’s what making coming across this refreshing. It’s easy to write then life is moving along smoothly. Thanks for sharing.

4 07 2011
Is This Mike On?

And I felt bad for not writing since Father’s Day. I’ll see your exhaustion and raise you some fatigue, self-doubt and tiny bit of depression.

4 07 2011

Your openess is beautiful. As are you. You are normal. Hear that? NORMAL. Yes, we repeat over and over again….I can do this. Just one more day. One day at a time is good enough. Heck, one hour at a time!

Keep writing. Write whatever you want. We are listening and we care.

4 07 2011

Thank you. It’s good to know I’m not alone in feeling like this and other people believe I can do it.

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