There's something sort of consoling being able to put my thoughts and feelings into words. I am the only one who knows about this blog. I haven't told any friends or family about this. My boyfriend does not even know about this blog. Anyone who happens to stumble onto it is a perfect stranger. Blogging my troubles away I call it. I've kept a diary off and on for years but in today's technologically advanced society I've finally jumped on that bandwagon that is called blogging. Sure this "online diary" of sorts will never really go away and isn't private but isn't that what freedom of speech is for?
If anyone has managed to make it this far into my posting I'll let you know now. I'm a rambler. I'll take a simple thought and run with it making it more complicated than necessary. Call it part of my personality...call it part of the fact that I am a woman and women feel the intense need to express themselves...call it whatever you like! Just know that I ramble. You see? I've managed to make an entire paragraph on the premise of my rambling. Ha
More often than not my postings will consist of putting my frustrations to words or pondering life's mysteries. I'll admit, sometimes I blog with the dangerous combination of intense hurt or intense anger. I just recently went through my old Facebook notes and all I can say is...wow. I'm a weird, creative freak.
I suppose it would be appropriate for my first posting to be a little about myself before I blog about others. To sum it up, you could say I am one of those stereotypical young adults. Striving for success, love, and respect. But somehow seriously struggling with all three. On the extremely treacherous path of "finding" herself. Trying to juggle a career in-the-works, a boyfriend, a dysfunctional family who is currently shunning you, and learning all the ins and outs of being an adult. I won't go into excruciating detail since this isn't an autobiography and you as the reader could probably care less about this stranger's post you happened on.
What I will say is who I am today and who I was a year ago are vastly different, to most. Forced into this seemingly perfect existence through peer pressure. Maybe I was always the person I am now but just afraid to stand up for myself. I won't say I have all my ducks in order and that I understand everything that is going on. Quite the opposite actually. I'm very much in the "finding myself" stage. Of course, you'd have to understand a little of my background to understand most of what I've said in the last two paragraphs.
If I manage, this will be the most condensed version of the past 21 years I've ever given. 21 years ago, literally all the way across the ocean, little me was born, abandoned, and adopted 11 months later. Okay, so I know based on that version you may view me as a cynical person. Only sometimes. My view is there is no point in making a sob story out of something that I can't even remember. Sure I wonder about my birth parents. What adopted child doesn't? But that's all said and done and I for one am just grateful to be alive and well. Out of all the places I could have grown up in, I never pictured myself being in the Midwest. 8 years in a country town, 2 overseas, 3 in the next state over, and finally back to my home state. 15 years summed up in one sentence, not too shabby.
Are you wondering about my family yet? I've got an older brother. Also adopted. He's pretty much always been successful and now he's living the American dream with a large house, adorable (expecting) wife, well-paying job, and dog/cat. He in my mind has always been the poster child for what a son should be. He definitely took notes from Mary Poppins. Do I sound bitter? Deep down I don't think I truly am. I could have reasons to resent him but what for? He didn't know or contribute to my rocky relationship with my parents.
Ah yes. Parents. I'm going to try my best to paint them realistically because otherwise I could make them sound like monsters if I wanted to since I am at odds with them. I'm an emotional roller coaster dreamer who cannot keep her opinions to herself. Clearly these things do not mix well with authorities such as parents. Also, let's add the factor of a strict religious upbringing mixed with a young adult figuring out life. So in all actuality those two things don't mix at all. One is oil and one is water. And honestly the whole religion thing I haven't been able to really confide in anyone about. I can either talk to "super-Christians" who look down on me even though they are no more perfect than I am, or I can talk to people who call themselves Christians but have never read the Bible in their entire lives and don't believe it anyway. I'll admit, there is some definite confusion. What I do know is I still believe in God. That's something that has never wavered. Have I questioned the goodness of God? Absolutely. Especially now that I've found a love that has brought happiness to me but everyone else is opposed to it. I finally refused to be a hypocrite any more and stand by the guy I love. Call it cheesy or cliche. It might have its moments but I take pride in the fact that I've stuck by him and vice versa. He is a whole other can of worms which I won't go into right now other than the fact that I'm struggling a little to get over our idiosyncrasies but I can't tell him because I've felt like a huge annoyance lately. Communication is key. I know, I know. But this post isn't exclusively about him!
Wait, wasn't this paragraph supposed to be about my parents? Back to them. My dad, I love him. I know he's disappointed in the choices I've made but he loves me anyway. His continued compassionate treatment of me has been humbling. And by choices I will say in my opinion they aren't necessarily life ruining contrary to my family's belief. According to others I'm an actual young adult with a good head on her shoulders. I work a full-time and part-time job while studying to be an Occupational Therapist. I don't drink, smoke, or party (personal preferences). I live on my own and pay my own bills. A seemingly rarer and rarer combination these days among people in their 20s. My mother on the other hand. She's much like me. We butt heads constantly, say hurtful things we don't mean, and hold on to grudges. I'm basically dead to her or at the very least an embarrassment. Although if we were all honest, this embarrassment and disappointment stems from the fact that I didn't fit the mold of the perfect life they had planned for me.
But a parent wouldn't be a parent if they didn't want what was "best" for their child, right? Their "best" and my "best" just don't line up. Right now things are difficult. And by difficult I mean things are pretty terrible. If every tomorrow wasn't a new day I would've jumped off a bridge by now. I'm a pessimist. Something I've inherited (I bet you can't guess from which parent) and something I've found recently that really irritates my boyfriend. He hasn't admitted it yet but the lack of communication from him has spoken volumes. It is driving me nuts by the way. I'm used to being in constant contact with my boyfriends and he just isn't like that. Extremely, extremely laid back. I'm not sure how it happened for me, the uptight worry wart to end up with the king of "take life as it comes." We balance each other out. At least, I like to think that. Okay, in all honesty, he probably does more of the balancing. He really shouldn't pick up on my excessive amounts of OCDness.
I've sort of blogged so long now I forgot what the original intention of this post was supposed to be. But there are tons of things I've noticed I'll have to expound on sometime. Happy reading folks. If you've managed to make it this far you win an award.
