The really bad habit of biting my nails. There was a year or so (a year or so ago) when I managed to stop. There is no rhyme or reason behind it. I think I was just preoccupied and forgot to do it for a couple of days and realized I could just stop. But just after Sylas was born I started again and then was obsessively biting my nails until now. It's such a nasty, horrible, painful habit. I wish I could say I didn't know how the habit stated but that's not true. My life has been in almost constant turmoil since I was about 7 years old and I developed nail biting as a mechanism of coping (among other things). I stopped biting my nails once again abut two weeks ago. But last night I sort of went to town on my right hand. It usually starts by my one of my very brittle nails breaking off. I usually file it and put clear coat on, but I suck at filing (especially with y left hand) so the nail stays rigid and so it goes to my mouth to for smoothing. Next thing I know my fingers are inflamed and hurting. I always regret it. It sucks, and it makes my hands so ugly... they are so pretty with long nails.
The bad habit of introversion. How can introversion become a habit? Also a mechanism of coping. In the past 15 years or so, I have lost some really important relationships in my life. Most of them friendships. Losing a friendship can sometimes be worse than a break-up with a boyfriend. Some loses have come by way of death, some by betrayal, some by people choosing sides after a break-up. In any case it hurts. So I have become a bit of an introvert. I didn't realize this until someone at work referred to me as introverted, which made me question the authenticity of that. I talked to Rob about it and he confirmed that I had changed quite a bit in the past three or four years. I have become so used to the pain of failed friendships that I have subconsciously decided not to make myself available to have them. I used to trust everyone until they proved they were not to be trusted. I used to forgive and forgive and continue in friendships until I was so done with it, it was too late to forgive, too late to salvage. Most people on the outside would have long since advised me to leave the friendship by the time I actually did. Then there was little respect and lots of bitterness and regret. The kicker though... I'd forgive again. Never to be close friends with that person, but enough to catch up every couple of years. Every boyfriend I ever had that hurt me physically (which is every single one except my husband- go figure we are still married), I still talk to from time to time. Friends who betrayed me, lied to me, deceived me, judged me... all people I still talk to from time to time because I have forgiven, but I do not forget. I have never been a grudge holder, although I admit it often takes me a really long time to get over things... sometimes years, sometimes I never do.
And so, as it stands right now, I have very few friends in my life, and with those friendships I am very reserved, I don't let myself love or trust completely, I don't have expectations, I don't have good communication, I don't share who I truly am (for fear I will be judged and then ultimately lose the friendship), and I am always surprised when someone expresses the desire to spend time with me or expresses love for me. It's because I finally feel I do not deserve friendship. I do not deserve to be loved in that way. Shocking, because it's one of the things I desire most in life... to have close friendships, to be accepted for exactly who I am, no more, no less. I had no idea how rare that was, but I do now.
When I first moved to Seattle, I spent a brief amount of time feeling sorry for myself because I had so few friends. I decided to start blogging and joined social networking sites like Tribe, Livejournal, MySpace and ultimately Facebook. I made some friends that way. Some who were shallow and narcissistic (obviously those relationships were short lived) but also ones that felt good and true and lasted... for a time. I also found a whole new group of friends when I started nursing school. Ultimately most of those friendships ended as well... often from people moving away, sometimes because the only commonality we had was nursing school. Sure there are a few people I still talk to, people I spent a lot of time with during school. We catch up, have lunch now and then, most of us have had children now so we have that in common. But again, friendships at an arm's distance. That's what's become the most comfortable for me.
If you ask anyone from (what I call) my previous life. They'd tell you I was super social, super self sufficient. And that couldn't be further from the truth now. I could say, "how did I get here". But the answer is, "I know how" and I am not sure I can change that. Interesting how this perspective- from 6 years ago- has become somewhat of a reality for me, and how even a year after that post, the evolution into who I am, had already begun.
The bad habit of not knowing what I want. My big picture has been: be a good wife, be a good mother, be a good nurse. I have accomplished these things. I am left wanting more. I am not sure what, yesterday Rob told me that it is plain to see that I am struggling with that question. The truth is I am a mom Monday through Friday until 7 p.m. at which time Sy goes to bed and I become a wife for a couple of hours until Rob and I go to bed. But there are no days of the week when we are a family, the three of us, because Rob works the weekdays and I work the weekends. When I go to work in the morning, Sylas is asleep and when I come home he is asleep, and when I come home I am too tired to do anything but go to sleep and ready myself for the next day. We are working on a solution for this, but we live in Seattle. Nowhere near either of our families, no true support for Sylas should we decide not to work opposite schedules and, in this recession and our current financial state, unable to afford childcare. I am searching for an answer but I am not totally sure what the question is.
And last but certainly not least, the bad habit of not loving myself. Before I didn't love myself because bad things happened to me, people left, people died, people hurt me, I made mistakes, people told me I was fucked up and I believed them. Then I didn't love myself because I made commitments I couldn't keep in the form of failed marriages. Then I didn't love myself because I tried to take my life... because I didn't love myself. And then I didn't love myself because I got fat. Now I have accomplished many of my goals and I have lost 70 pounds. I still am not loving myself. Hmmm... habit or characteristic?
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