Mask Be Gone

Today will be another 2 post day but I will leave the second one for later on. It is a fun filled one about T and me last night.
I need to give credit where credit is due with regards to the posts where I have a lightening strikes moment and insight happens.  All of them, at the very least 99.9% of the time they evolve out of conversations that I am having with friends. They will make a statement or ask a question and suddenly boom there it is. And I talk it out with whomever I am talking to at the moment. The vast majority of them are broken down between two people of whom K is one of.
Today she is going to make cold calls for the company that she is working for. Dropping off flyers/information packets at the business around the area. When in the office for the most part she can go casual. Today though, she was not sure if it would be okay to wear casual or make a better impression if she dressed up. What did I think. And I thought about it.
Sales Person=Professional look=suits/slacks w/dress shirt for men. Pantyhose/skirt/slip/blouse/dress pants/blazer/dress/heels/flats/purse
for women. Damn uncomfortable being dressed up like that all the time. I have done it in the past and best place I have ever worked was for a company that was in production. I was in Customer Service but could handle this because I dealt with the salesmen not actual customers and I  could wear jeans and sweatshrits to work. I was in my glory. (To be honest the first day I started I wore dress pants in and was told I was dressed up too much.)
I explained that that was my definition of a sales person’s dressware and K agreed. She is going to throw her flair into it though and come out looking awesome. I began to think though as we are talking about what facades we put on. We are programmed to think and feel about certain people and careers solely based on how they are dressed.
Ex: A meeting is taking place between 2 competitors with a company. Person A arrives for the meeting casually dressed because he/she knows that the product they are selling is exactly what the companny requires and at a fraction of the cost even with a few bells and whistles thrown in of their competitor. Person B arrives for the meeting in business attire. Their product essentially the same as Person A’s but with extras that the company does not need nor will they ever use. And it costs triple the price. In the end despite the fact that Person A’s product is what they need for a great cost the company choses to go with Person B.
We immediately disregard people if they do not fulfill our preconcieved notions of how they should look. How does one know that the lawyer who wears jeans and tee shirts to the office did not graduate at the top of his law class while the lawyer in the $1000 suits who charges hourly did not? We give so much creedence to how we present ourselves to the world, that we forget who we are.
At work I have a facade. Chipper. Always happy. Smile on my face. Flying around here there and everywhere. Stopping to talk to people. Helping customers find what they need. This is the face that I wear day in and day out, 40 hours a week whether or not I feel like it.
Before Dec. 23rd, my entire being was a facade. I smiled and pretended I was happy. I laughed and talked and tried to be the world’s best problem solver. As I type this I recalled a moment just before that saturday which made me realize how much my facade was me.
I had been helping a customer and chatting away with them. When done I went over to another till to bag for one of my cashiers and her customer. All of us are chatting away and both of them mention that I am always happy. My mask slipped for a brief moment when I admitted that I was not really 100% me. And both of them told me that they never would have known. That I certainly did not show that things were not quite right.
Maybe if I had not been so intent on presenting myself as a strong and capable woman who required no assistance someone might have noticed a little earlier as the cracks began to appear. Maybe if I had been willing to be truthful with myself, I could have, no there is no could have. My facade had become me. I had become my facade.
Now I can look in the mirror and see me. This morning after I put cream on my face and set my glasses on my nose I took a really good look at myself in the mirror. And I saw me. The real me. The one who’s eyes are sparkling, clear, not fogged and drug numbed. I no longer look haggard and tired. I am still sleeping the same but again, there are no drugs at play deadening my sleep. I feel good. My hair is not looking brittle and ready to crack. Nor is it falling out in handfuls any longer. My skin is clearer and smoother as well.
There is another part of me that fell beneath the illusion of my facade and the role I was playing. That was my brain. My brain has been fooled and stupified and drug numbed for so many years I am damn surprised that it still functions. But it is there. With ideas and knowledge and truths that I fought to hide from for so long. I am open to the changes that are tearing down the ugliness that I wore to fool the world and replacing it with me. The real me.
I began thinking this was going to be a random reflection based on what K and me were talking about. Instead it opened my eyes further to the changes that I have wrought both inside and out. I am not going to wear masks any longer. What you see is who I am. I want to be accepted for the person that I am, not the person that society expects me to present to the world at large.

Worry who me?

I worry a lot……I worry about work I worry about paying bills and most of all I worry about T. I worry I do not do enough I worry that I am not there enough I worry that I am not showing him enough love or time. I worry non-stop that I am failing him as a mom. Will there ever come a time when I can look at my child and say I have given him my all or will I always worry that I could give him so much more. He is my sun and my moon. He is why I get up in the morning and laugh. He is a dream come true and I am lucky to have him……But I shall always worry that I am failing him.

Written by me Oct. 13/16

The above popped up on my FB memories Friday. As I read over it, my heart ached for how vulnerable and scared I was. How as I began to walk the twisted path of my depression, I could not see where I was headed. But this tells me. However, that is not what this blog is about.

I no longer worry that I am going to fail T. I do worry that I let him spend too much time on the computer either watching Youtube or playing his Scrap Mechanic or Minecraft. I worry that I don’t make him read enough but on the other hand I do not want to make him hate reading. I do worry that I don’t talk to him enough although he reassures me all the time that I talk more than enough for both of us.

As a mom, my main job besides loving T is to turn him into a semblance of a productive member of society. Which means laying down some ground rules. Teaching him responsibility. Disabusing him of the notion that he and he alone matters in the world. I try to open his eyes to the differences around him so that he sees people and lives, nothing else.

I have taught him a fair share of my bad habits as well. He is sarcastic. He always has to have the final word. He likes to procrastinate. Whether he realizes it or not, he likes words which is a bonus in my book.  (By the way, the word thing not a bad habit)

Overall, as I look at the young man T is growing into, I am fairly confident that he is going to turn into that productive member of society that I want him to be. There are still going to be some struggles ahead (I mean c’mon, he is a boy about to go into puberty and yeah, how do I handle that one?) so you may want to check back with me in a year or so to see if I am still writing and singing his praises.

 

 

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