I killed it myself. Set it on fire, torched it to the ground. A lot like the recent bridges I've burned. Well, not bridges. More like entire villages full of natives that could have given me simple directions to the bridge and maybe sent me on my way with a pack of gold and a nice snack.
I'm not sorry, in case you were wondering. I'm done trying to figure out who hates me and who doesn't or who's trashing me and who isn't. Because to be honest...I just don't care. I haven't lost a single night of sleep worrying about it, but if it makes anyone feel better to think that I do or that I'm sitting at home alone every night without friends or things to do, go right ahead. I have zero regrets.
I am not the same person who started this blog. Angry. Bitter. Snarky. I don't even think I'm funny anymore. Don't ask me what happened there. It just kind of disappeared. I'm actually not all that fat anymore either, which is pretty much fantastic. I don't talk politics (unless you follow me on Twitter and then, uh...) because it's enough to make my head explode.
I got tired of talking about people. I think spending a year or more picking apart every aspect of another person's life is not only lame but incredibly mean. I'm not saying I haven't done it, but it's bad Karma. And trust me, I know that from personal experience. You reap what you sow and I got tired of reaping the "benefits" of being hateful, no matter how justified I may have been. It's a lesson that I think a lot of people could do well with.
These last few months have been filled with lots of good things. They've also had their moments of really, really awful things. I'm not sorry that I didn't share them, because I think that my family does deserve a little bit of privacy in those moments. This especially applies to our teenage son, who has been hurting more deeply than his father and I ever would have known had we not taken our noses out of our laptops and started paying attention.
We have slowly started putting our family back together. There is less yelling and more spending time together. Yesterday, we rode our bikes to the baseball fields and hit balls all afternoon. We have family movie nights. We've implemented chore charts and organization and I can't even tell you...this house has been fabulously clean and I feel like we've been running like a well-oiled machine instead of a broken down, rusty ass tractor.
We have been finishing up long-overdue projects. Hanging up things, painting, organizing, updating. Our front bathroom looks amazing, minus two small items that need to be wrapped up. I made Mr. BFG hang up stuff that's been stored in my closet for two years in the dining room. I spent so much time imagining and pinning and wanting...it felt good to finally do it. I still have tons of ideas and stuff that we're slowly working on (our backyard herb garden), but I love having a home that people walk into and think, "wow, this looks great."
Perfection was never my goal. That's impossible. I'm human and I mess up. I mess up a lot. And, I'm sure there are people who fault me for that. But I'm no longer living a half life where I'm only partly engaged with my family. My kids were growing up too quickly for me to only somewhat pay attention. My goal was to stop focusing on everyone else and start fixing myself. I was broken. My family was broken. I had to hit rock bottom before I started to put it all back together.
So, I don't know what's next for me. I have a contract that I need to get out of and then this blog is going to be saved on my computer and then wiped from existence (or at least as much as one can on the internet). I won't be writing anymore after this. I want to share my positive experiences, but I don't feel like I can do that here. I haven't felt that way for a long, long time and even though I've tried to leave, other commitments have kept me coming back.
And so, that's where I'm at. Putting the pieces back together and figuring out what's next for me.