i feel less than what i am
making a fool of myself as i
pretend to be wise or strong or capable
only i know that it is all a front, a facade, a
sham that haunts me late at night
the ways that i feel incapable are numerous
even though i know it's a lie
real fear hides inside of it.
---
This is where I normally say that I'm ok. Just having a hard time. But I am having a hard time, and I'm not ok... and that is ok, too.
Hannalyn has been watering flowers for my grandma as a summer job.
I caught myself breathing this morning while walking through the yard with her and it was nice. Some days we come over and have to rush- a class, a meeting, an assortment- and we just hustle through and get going. Today we didn’t have to do that and just standing felt so good.
I take a walk around the temple every Sunday after my church meetings and it’s the highlight of my week. Shoes off (weather permitting), taking my time both to center and ground as well as feel close to my Savior.
Today wasn’t necessarily spiritual, but I do feel more gratitude this morning for the chance to stand outside. That I’m capable. That the flowers are growing well, mostly, despite heat and drought. That my daughter is learning the value of hard work even though I often have to remind her to keep going. I am grateful.
And standing outside today, planting my feet in the too-dry grass, reminded me of that.
kind of in order, but not really…
My house
My parent’s house
The temple
My grandparent’s houses
East Park
Deep Creek
Children’s Gardens Thanksgiving Point
Disneyland
San Diego
10?
TW: death, depression
There has been a lot of loss in my life recently, both in my personal life and Im lives touching mine. It’s made for an incredibly hard year, especially as the grief is sudden and unexpected.
It’s made me gloomy and downtrodden. Even macabre.
I have wondered several times if anyone would miss me if I was gone. Pondered how if I were to be gone from my sphere, no one would notice, or if they did, they would not be influenced.
A friend sang at a friend’s funeral and I had the very selfish thought that I don’t have any friends to sing at my funeral.
Not that I want one, though I’d be dead so I guess I wouldn’t have a say, so it doesn’t matter, but I just want people to be able to get together if they want but then go home. Don’t make people talk about me- there’s not much to say and I think it’s silly to make people try to come up with memories to share and cry and mourn publicly. Keeping it private is fine by me.
I feel so selfish thinking this way instead of focusing on who passed and caring for their mourning loved ones. I try to send the thoughts away. Sometimes I’m more successful than others.
I am not in danger. I am just … sad. That’s ok, right?
If I knew it was my last chance to see someone, I want to think I’d take it. If my last time performing, ever, was in “Little Women” last weekend, I wonder if anyone would have made an effort to come. I am devastated to have missed my nephew’s race- what if I never got to see him do that again? Tragedy strikes fast and hard and without reason. I don’t want to be sad that I didn’t do what I should have done or been with those I could have or said what I needed to.
That’s hard. But I want to do better. I’ll try.
I wasn’t going to do strike thoughts because we didn’t have a strike, but here I am, unable to sleep, knowing I won’t until words get out.
Words are hard for me. I always say the wrong thing at the wrong time, say too much, or too little, and then have to sit in the consequences.
Yet somehow I am always so long-winded. And, occasionally, someone has told me what I’ve said or written has been impactful for them. I am always surprised by that, but I know God works through our imperfections.
Attention is hard for me. Surprising for someone who loves theatre and owns a business, right? Being the center of attention... Anxiety skyrockets, feelings get close to the surface, I can’t focus on what I’m “supposed” to do. Give me a script and that helps. But on my own, I get so lost.
It’s been a hard year for me. At one of my lowest points, I felt prompted to see if we could do a script reading of “Little Women”. Kind of a last hurrah, for fun thing. I clung to this so tightly- so many dreams and hopes have felt snatched away lately, that the possibility of just reading the script again became something I desperately wanted.
And then it grew and evolved and became… everything.
My heart this week has been so full and so broken all at once. Knowing how quickly time was slipping away, feeling myself putting fences back up to protect my heart as we neared the end of a magical journey, wishing I was better at wearing many hats, better at saying what I felt, better at remembering to bring the thank you cards…
Instead, now I sit, worrying about all I didn’t say, knowing that “thank you” will never be enough, praying that someone felt a sliver of what I did, refusing to put away the rest of the show because that means it is done, and feeling so overwhelmed at how this show and the people in it have once again changed my life and my heart.
“Little Women” is best in a musical, I believe. And somehow, I’ve been lucky enough to have the best of the best surrounding me as I’ve lived it. (Twice! No one gets dreams like that.) Taking chances, finding forever, standing together, living life fully, knowing that some things are meant to be and that the fire inside is family and love- so many incredible and beautiful lessons.
What will I do now that I am here alone? I’ll believe that this mattered, keep the memories close, try to carry on full of hope.
And I’ll be thankful every day for being part of it. ❤️
…
I wish more people could have seen it. I wish the people involved could know how genuinely and completely I value and love them. I wish that I didn’t fear I am saying goodbye to so much more than just “Little Women” with the ending of this show. This feels like the end of an era for me and I am both so completely grateful for the opportunity and so shattered at what I feel I am losing, while also being grateful for the chance to have what I had.
Whatever comes next, this show will live inside me forever. That’s a blessing.
