Monday, July 9, 2012

Choices

How do you know if you have made the right decision? Do you ever wonder "What would my life be like if I had done ______ instead?" Would you change any of the choices you have made? Even if it meant your life would be completely different? Maybe better, maybe worse?

I do. I wonder those things. Knowing what I now know, I wouldn't change. But I would like to think I would've handle some of the choices better. Said or done things nicer. Instead of striking out at those I cared about in defense, I would like to think I would listen with an open mind.

I tend to be a worrier. Thinking of the cause and effect of every little, minuscule detail. Over-analyzing until I am too afraid to make a choice. The bigger the decision, the more I worry.  Hell, I have been known to talk myself out of posting something on Facebook, or on here, because I am afraid of how someone might interpret it. And this is supposed to be a place where I can write, uncensored. Just for me. Maybe someone else will read it, gain some insight from my thoughts and feelings. Maybe someone dealing with anxiety and depression will see they are not alone. And yet, I make the choice to not post on some things that are dear to me, important to my ideology, because of fear that someone may react negatively.

Now would be a great time for me to say "Fuck that. I will write whatever I want to write." But I can't. Even writing the word fuck makes me nervous that I will offend someone. That's a choice I make. To think about what I am going to post. To weigh the potential reactions of the people I know that read this tripe. So I stay away from certain topics, even though I feel strongly about them, and believe they are important on a national level. I don't want to cause any ripples, let alone waves.

This is supposed to be a place where I can explore my thoughts, feelings. Unload my doubts and fears. A place where I can discover just who the hell I am. What makes me, well, me. I have forgotten that over the past couple of months. I have let myself get too wrapped up in the endless minutia.

Perfect example: I was at friend's house Friday evening. We were on her deck, drinking margaritas and eating strawberry shortcakes. These were the best damn strawberries I have had. She got them at a little farm stand in town. I mentioned that I may stop by and pick some up over the next couple of days. She recommended that we take the boys to the farm over the weekend, and let them pick their own. My reply was that I had too many things to do over the weekend to do that. Her response: "Looking back in 20 years, what are you going to remember? Taking care of the household chores, or watching your boys pick berries?"

And that is why she is one of my best friends.

In 20 years, I want to remember being a good mom, taking the time to go pick berries, to wrestle, to snuggle up and read stories. I want my children to remember me as being a fun, cool mom. (Or whatever terminology that will mean the same thing). I know we will probably go through the "I hate my parents" stage before we can get to the "My mom is the best" stage, but I want to make the choices that will get us there.

I want to write more, love more, learn more. This what I choose to do.