Raw

It occurs to me that I am angry. Furious. Enraged even. Utterly pissed off. In the book, The Memory Keeper's Daughter, by Kim Edwards, one of the main characters, David, repeatedly insists "I want" in rebuke to the 23rd Psalm. (i.e. The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.)

It occurs to me in all of my attempts to create within myself the perfect me, that I do want. I do feel that there are things in my life that I would so desperately want to be differently. I have tried to hard to be grateful, and I am grateful. I am grateful that I have a roof over my head, food to eat, hot water to bath in and cold clean water to drink.

But would I change things? You bet. I would heal my son's arm if I could. I would establish a raise for my husband that would allow me to stay home and raise my son. I would heal my brain so that I could be kinder to those around me and finally be happy in my skin.

This all hits me as I am in the midst of 5 self-help books. That is correct. 5 freakin self-help books. Time Management From The Inside Out. After all, I'm always late. Organization From The Inside Out. After all, I am a mess always. The Giving Myths. I am, after all, a self-proclaimed taker, not a giver. Practicing the Presence of God. Because right now, I'm really pissed off at Him and feel the need for a little short book to tell me how to behave in ways that will bring His presence closer to me. And finally, A New Earth. Because I'm full of damn ego and need to learn to live in the flippin moment.

The truth is, I just want to be enough for someone. Anyone. I want for one day to pass without a criticism, be it from myself or from others. I want to feel like I don't have to end every damn day exhausted. I want financial stability. Yes, I said it. Not so I can by a Lexus. Not so that I can buy a bigger house. Just so that I can stay at home and be a freakin mother to my son and make the debt go away.

I want more time. I want to be more efficient. I want to be more organized. I want to be a better wife to my husband. I want to be a quicker and better house cleaner and laundry doer. I want to be a runner. I want to be in shape. I want to have a clear head. I want to be in the moment when I am playing with my son. I want to have financial freedom. I want a different body. I want different skin. I want a different voice. I want different hair. Maybe someday. Someday I and those around me and my whole entire life will fit the image that I want.

I want the woman who ripped my child out of my womb thus injuring him to know how badly she hurt him and this whole family. I want my husband to know how sad it is when it seems like he hates his life. I want my mother and my mother-in-law to experience for one second the intense pressure they place on me to be just exactly what they want me to be and enjoy and do the things they would like for me to do. I want my mother to realize she still has two daughters and two granddaughters...not just a brand new wonderful grandson. I want my son to stop crying every time I try to put him down for a nap or to bed. I want my sons arm healed.

I want to feel rested. I want to feel peace. I want to let go of the pressure. The expectations. I want to enjoy just for one second my beautiful baby boy and my husband. I want to enjoy the blessings that I do have.

There Santa. That is my grown-up Christmas list.

Is it selfish? Perhaps. But, those are my wants. Husband, mother, sister, neice, mother-in-law, father-in-law, Dad, step-mom, friends, take back any gift you purchased for me and give me the help I need to make all or any of those things happen.