My brain feels like it's going to implode. I've been thinking a lot lately, mostly on this new baby, but on life in general. I still feel down a lot, but I'm glad I've been put on medication or else I wouldn't even want to get up in the morning. At least now I can function--somewhat.
I've just been thinking a lot. I've been thinking about what I want in life. Truthfully, I'm scared shitless about this new baby. No, I'm not worried about Iris. I know she's thriving in there and growing and becoming intelligent and beautiful in my womb, but I'm now fully aware of what is going to come. I don't want to have a cesarean again. Ever. And I know the possibility of that is out there. I don't want any complications like I had with my first child, I don't want to be immobile the first couple of weeks like I was with Lily. I felt terrible, and I cried a lot because I couldn't really do anything with her. I couldn't move and my mother wasn't helping me on the things I wanted to do with her. I know things are different this time. I know J will support me in breastfeeding and that he'll help me when he's around, but for the most part, I'll be alone. And that also terrifies me. I don't know if I'm smart enough, or strong enough for that kind of responsibility. True, there really isn't any turning back now and I really have no choice, but how does someone prepare for that?
I'm scared that I'm going to fail as a mother. Now don't get me wrong, I know I'm a good mom. I'm not supermom or anything, and I know I'm not perfect, but I do love my child. And i feed her, and clothe her, and make sure she knows her body parts. Hell, most of what Lily knows is because I taught it to her. Those goofy dance moves though are totally her father's. But I feel that once Iris is born, I won't be able to give Lily what she needs or vice versa. I feel like I may make the other one feel left out and neglected and I don't want either of them to feel that. I know how some moms are. I know they don't mean to choose a favorite, but it happens. My brother is my mom's favorite, though she hates his lifestyle, and my niece is my sister's favorite. I know what it's like to feel left out and I don't want that to happen to my kids. I don't want to do that, but I'm afraid I will.
As you see, I'm just very scared right now. I'm at a place where I don't know what I want and I don't know what to do. I feel pretty useless most of the time, and I know that's my fault. I spend most of the day just wondering and thinking and I don't actually do anything. I don't clean, I don't do any housework, I just sit on my ass most of the day and force myself to eat. I want to do a bunch of things, but most of the time I have a toddler and a dog hovering around my feet that a lot of times I almost trip and want to smack the both of them. It's frustrating to have so many shadows. My friend Danita, I don't know how she does it and I admire her, but she has her daughter and her animals and her home business and she still runs around and does housework and runs errands and spends time with her kids. And I look at my friend Carol who has her husband and her three kids who are what I call "stair children." One right after the other with maybe 18-24 months between them, yet she manages to handle all three of them and do what she needs or wants to do. I admire that. And by looking at them I know it's not impossible to do what you need to in life and take care of your kids, but I just don't feel mentally, emotionally, and physically able. I feel like a giant blob of space that's just taking up all the room.
I don't clean, so this house is a mess. It's completely in shambles, and every time I look at the kitchen sink I get discourage and just leave without touching a dish. Yet I still go in my head, "Vonnie, you need to clean those. Vonnie, J wants you to clean those. Vonnie, go clean the goddamn dishes!" And somehow I ignore it and never do it. I want to go through all these boxes and get things where they go. But I don't want to 1. hurt myself, and 2 work. I'm super lazy and that's a really big factor on why things never get done. I stopped going to school. I just don't have the motivation for it. Not one ounce. I'll get very excited and then after maybe two or three classes, that's it. I'm done and never want to go through that again. And at the same time I feel bad. It's a waste of money if I'm not going to do it, and then I'm just useless because I don't have my extended education. Ok, yeah, I graduated high school (barely), but I really don't know anything. I was never given the opportunity to learn about life and it's responsibilities. I was spoiled as a child and pampered. Hell, even know I'm a spoiled, pampered princess because my husband is, well he's awesome in my opinion. Regardless, I can't drive, I only know how to cook because I follow recipes from a book or have a few memorized from my mom and sister. Yet I hate to cook anyway. Like I said previously, I don't clean--as I hate housework but I love making messes. I can't drive a car. Yet I still bought one. I don't know if I ever will drive one at this point. I'm 21, still no license, and I'm scared shitless to get behind the wheel thanks to my mom. (I almost caused an accident when I was learning.) AND I rarely ever use my common sense.
Now, I know I am smart. When I talk to strangers or get together with a group of would-be-friends they tell me that I seem so much older than I really am when in their eyes, I'm just a baby. I feel very proud and special when this is said, but at the same time I feel like I'm putting on an act. I know I'm not. I don't change for other people and I don't hide who I am. For the most part, I like who I am, but I still feel like this person that they see isn't really there. I know she's a part of me, but I just never see her. I know I'm smart because I study what I love. You ask me questions about my faith or my heritage and I can give you a pretty decent answer. (Hey, I'm not perfect.) I know I'm doing some things right when I ask Lily where certain body parts are and she shows me. She understands me, and I know that I'm showing her things, that she's learning from me. I know I'm book smart (I'm streets-smart challenged) but at the same time I feel quite stupid. I know I'm capable of a lot of things, I just don't know what they are. I know I have talents, but I'm just not motivated enough (even when not pregnant) to do anything with them.
I sat in the car yesterday when we went to run some errands. I was listening to a CD my husband had burned that had his favorites on it, and I was singing along to the opera bits when I sat there and went, "Jesus. I could be making millions right now." I can sing, I can dance, I can draw, I can write, I can act, though my drawing and dancing are on the mediocre side, I can still do these things. The rest quite well. And I'm doing nothing with them because I lack the motivation. I lack the drive.
This entry is all over the place, I'm sure. But that's how I feel. I wish I could blame all these feelings on symptoms of pregnancy, but I can't. I'm going into my second trimester, and I'm on medication, so I know these feelings are mine and not just me being hormonal. I just wish I could turn my brain off.
I've been seriously analyzing my faith this past week or so. I think everyone should do this at least once in their lives. It helps to go through all the knots. It also separates the believing because you have to and believing because you want to.
I met a girl here in town who is Pagan. Very sweet awesome woman with a 4 year old son. She's living with her parents right now and going to school, but that's not important. Anyway, she went to a ritual last week in the city and let me tag along. The circle, the Sage Circle, is mostly a healing circle and was originally a sisterhood that had begun that ended on not so great terms. They reformed, regrouped, and did better planning and decided to start from scratch on a much smaller scale. Trying to start a coven is no easy task and so they decided to lower the standards a bit, so to speak. Anyway, after spending a pretty awesome night with them, it got me to think about what I want out of my faith and my beliefs. I have a luncheon to go to on Thursday to meet up with the founders to discuss what I am looking for in a group and what I think about theirs, etc, and it got me to thinking about what I wanted. What I really wanted and not just what I thought I wanted.
I stocked up on a lot of my witchy supplies. J is very supportive on my choice of religion and just teases me every once in a while. Usually when I watch witch-themed movies or if I left a mess in the basement (my space) after a ritual and forgot to clean it up. After getting supplies I felt a little more prepared in a way. I felt ready to take on the world, kind of.
So I started thinking. I was raised in a Baptist-Pentecost environment. My parents did missionary work, and my mother became a minster (now a pastor.) I went to church regularly, every Wednesday, Friday, and twice on Sunday. I was an officer, treasurer, in the youth group (I was also the youngest at 12.) and planned and did activities. I graduated from the adult bible school and have a framed certificate from the School of Ministry to show my completion. I've read the Bible front to back, I can quote scriptures, I've taught classes, I've written sermons, I've taken classes to become a minister myself, I've spoken in tongues (which creeped me out) and have been touch by the Holy Spirit as well as been baptized. And throughout this entire time I felt empty and unhappy. I tried to make it work, I really did. But I just never felt complete. A lot of Christians always tell me how fantastic they feel after being saved, how wonderful it is to have Jesus in their lives. And I can honestly feel happy for them, but at the same time I can't help but wonder why I never felt that way.
There was a point in high school where my mother and I had an argument which ended up me being forced to go to church every Friday night. My mother was irritated that I kept falling asleep during the sermon, but I didn't want to be there. On Halloween, she had made me go with friends to a church. I was not happy. I didn't want to be rude or disrespectful to our friends, so I went, but afterwards I let my mother know how I felt. She had not asked me whether or not I had plans or whether or not I wanted to go. She mentioned that I had to go that day, and I knew the only reason she wanted me to go was because I "needed Salvation." Frankly, I was tired of the church and I had been a Pagan in the broom closet for years.
These events, however, did not influence my change into Paganism as I was already in Wicca by the time they happened. The main catalyst in my transformation was when I 13 and was delving deep into studying theology. I would check out several books at a time and you would find me locked up in my room reading a book on the Occult as well as see a Post-It Note infested book on the history of Christianity at my feet. This continued well into my college years (read, age 18).
There was girl, Tiffany, who was in my Home Ec class. One day she brought Silver Ravenwolf's Teen Wicca into class. She let me borrow it and I read through it at home. My parents found it and threw a fit. I advised them that I was only reading into the religion, wanting to know more about it, when they went on into some monologue about how opening any book on witchcraft and letting it enter your heart was opening the gates of hell and letting the Devil get a vantage point. (WTF?) Regardless, I told them I was studying and showed them the pile of books on religion that was sitting on my desk. The backed off for a while.
A few days later, after I had finished reading the book and returned it back to Tiffany, I discussed some of what I had learned with friends. Lizzie, a friend, mentioned that she had found some stuff about her grandmother and believed that she was a witch. I was very interested and we continued to discuss the topic through the week. Later we began to practice a few visualization techniques as well as travel into the astral plane. Not very smart for two 13 year old 8th graders, but we were young and naive and eventually learned that this was an art and not a game.
The next year I took a step back from the church. My stepfather had committed suicide, my mom was committed to the hospital, my brother, who was only 21 at the time, was trying to take care of me and the household. Even though I prayed profusely and tried to find solace in the church, I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried or how many times I went I just kept feeling emptier and began to rebel. I felt disconnected. I didn't enjoy it, and I was feeling like something was missing.
I would talk to my mom about feeling the Holy Spirit and she would go off on a tangent about how wonderful it was. Frankly to me it felt like an egg being cracked on my head and afterward I just felt numb. I didn't mention it because she had gone off on how great God was. We also talked about talking in tongues. My first and only experience was when I was 12. It scared the hell out of me. After I noticed what was happening I just let it be, but it felt awkward and I didn't like it. My mom mentioned how it was such a gift, that not everyone could speak in the language of God and that many people faked it. That it was this wonderful thing, and so forth, and how you felt accomplished. I had felt retarded is what I had felt. I wasn't feeling any of the wonderfulness she kept mentioning. I wasn't feeling complete like she did. I wasn't feeling anything.
For a long time I thought that the only reason why I didn't feel anything in Christianity was because I had inner demons and was blocking out all access. In reality, I was trying to get something to come in and show me that things would be okay. I only got that from Wicca. I questioned the Bible a lot and never got any straight answers. Why is it that vanity and jealousy are sin, but yet it says that God is vain and a jealous God and we can't worship anybody else. Why is it okay for him to feel these and not us? Why is a God that is so powerful and so loving, why does he chastise those who are different if he wanted us to not be the same? Why can we not love those who we wish to love and not what someone else thinks we should? Why is witchcraft considered such a horrible thing but they mention the Magi and how they brought gifts to Jesus? They were frickin' magicians, i.e.-witches, in King Herod's court. They brought him incense! Yet when people mention witches they think malice, greed, deception, and power of the bad sort, and not of the three Magi.
There was just so much that I didn't agree on and so much that I wasn't happy about. I wasn't happy with anything. I didn't think Christianity was a bad religion or a wrong religion, I just didn't think it was for me. The night I dedicated myself to the Goddess and to Wicca, on June's full moon 7 years ago, I felt what I had been missing in Christianity. I felt complete. It didn't matter whether I loved a man or a woman, just as long as I loved. I knew there were still consequences, but I wasn't going to suffer in eternal damnation just because I made a few mistakes. I knew or the karmic rule and the rule of three. I knew I'd get what I deserved if I didn't take my steps wisely, and I knew not to play with forces that weren't mine to play with. I felt home. Not only did I have Mother-Goddess, but I had her Horned consort, my Father-God. I felt in tune with nature and I started to see the world differently.
I researched and practiced the Craft, and still do to this day. I am ever-learning, and I enjoy my life. I pray to the Goddess and the Horned-One, and I have my own pantheon that I follow. I chose my deities and I'm full of love that I wasn't getting from Christianity.
Wicca may have been the first religion I studied outside the Judeo-Christian spectrum, but it wasn't the last. I did study on Satanism, Buddhism, Hinduism, and bunch of other -isms, but I always came back to Wicca. I always felt at peace in this religion and continue to feel that way. I didn't choose this religion just for show, and I didn't choose it because I hate judgmental Christians and I want to get back at the church or something along those lines. I still love my Christian brethren, and all those of other paths. I have a Unitarian perspective that no religion is the One religion and that regardless of the gods we choose to worship, the Universe is one and we all appreciate Divinity and what it has to offer.
Wow, that came out a bit preachy. Oh well. Damn, this entry came out much longer than I had intended it to. It took me 2 hrs to write. I kept getting distracted by a little curly-haired midget.