Thinking of Me

Following a nice chat I had tonight, I concluded that a large part of my unhappiness and unproductiveness comes from the fact that I don't do enough for myself.  The theory goes that I would be much better at getting things done if I was actually inspired to do them for myself instead of for others.  There is obviously enough rebel in me that if someone tells me do something, or insinuates that I ought to, then I won't do it.  The theory applies to everything from tidying the house to finding a career.  In order for me to want to accomplish anything, I need to really want to do it for myself.

The trouble is that I spend most of my time taking care of everyone else.  This is what I do and this is what I'm good at and while I quite enjoy doing it, it doesn't leave me much time to do much for me.  I don't spend enough time thinking about me and what I want.  I think if I did that and could figure out what I wanted, I could probably take a step or two towards making it happen.

I actually stumbled upon a version this idea a few years ago when I took my first ever holiday by myself.  For almost a week I ceased to be anyone's mother or wife and I was just me.  It was a glorious time and I decided to take steps to ensure that I didn't forget who "Me" was.  I made a grand list of things I wanted to do and things I wanted to change and I even got a tattoo to always remind myself that I mustn't ever forget who I am.

While I have gotten better about remembering who I am amidst the loving chaos of family life, I obviously haven't been doing enough to really discover who I am and what I want out of life.  I must make a more concerted effort to make time for myself and think about myself, my wants, my needs and my desires. I need to marinate myself in dreams, as my therapist said and, I now realize, I must also marinate myself in me. 

And maybe get another tattoo...