Confession Thursday has already rolled around again. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m running out of confessions that I’m willing to share. I’ve been wracking my brain for days. Some are too mild, and therefore are boring…maybe suitable for a conversation over coffee, but not up to my standards for a blog post. On the other hand, some are downright unprintable. *blush*
But none of them involve me putting icy-hot on the ceiling of my parent’s bathroom when I was a kid, although they want so badly (for nearly 30 years) for me to admit that I either did it or I know who did. Let it go, guys. Really. 🙂
Here’s the only one that I can think of that is actually a confession in every sense of that word. It’s a good thing that my ground rules require that you readers cannot pass judgment on Confession Thursday, because this one is rather hard to admit.
I sometimes fantasize about getting in my car and running away from everything. It’s not depression, despair, psychosis or mental illness. It’s not that I hate my family or my friends, or am otherwise dissatisfied with my life. I’ve had these thoughts since I was a teenager. Specifically, in this fantasy, I take a few clothes and a toothbrush, and get in my car and drive to Topeka, Kansas. I start a new life with a new identity. I become a waitress at a cafe, and my daily life revolves around the simple conversations and interactions with the customers there. There is no drama, no relationships, no pressure, no stress.
I think it’s interesting that this fantasy started long before I had children. Apparently I long for solitude. Ironic, isn’t it, that I live in a house with 5 other people, a dog, and a cat? Luckily, I was born with that gene that makes mothers stick around even when the going gets tough. I would never abandon my children. But as an aside, I think it’s unfair that men get to “choose” whether or not they are going to be fathers. Mothers, whether we like it are not, are in it for the long haul. Some men may take offense at that last statement. I don’t mean it as an insult, and in fact I acknowledge that the majority (?) of men make the right choices for their families. But women don’t have those choices, as any mother who does walk away is the lowest form of life in our society. I know that we are just wired that way, and we can’t help that this is just the way it is. I’m not saying that women should be able to do so without judgment, I just think that men should be held to the same standards. There’s a lot more pressure on mothers…is all I’m sayin’.
On a completely unrelated note, I am having a tooth extracted this afternoon. It’s not a simple extraction, it has to be broken up and my gum cut and pulled out piece by piece. I will confess that I steer clear of dentists whenever possible, as I am scared shitless of them. I’ve never been afraid of needles, shots, blood or surgery (generally). But dental work? OMG. I’d rather have an insignificant organ removed…or a couple of ovaries…than have a tooth taken out of my head. Did you know that teeth are connected to your jaw bone? Like, CONNECTED connected. Imagine having a bone pulled out of your body that’s connected to muscle and other bone. That’s what having a tooth taken out makes me think about. Wish me luck that I get through it without passing out or vomiting. Thank you.
Now. Dig deep. Share something that you might not otherwise share. It really makes me feel better to write this stuff down…and if anyone reading this judges me for it, then that’s really just your own problem, isn’t it? lol