Rawr! Damn these immature feelings! I'm better than this!

Why do certain people or certain situations spark very specific emotions?

For instance: jealousy.

I've battled with jealousy growing up because I had a big sister who was doted on constantly by our mother. She was encouraged throughout her life to be ambitious, to study hard and take pride in your life, your things, and your appearance. My mom complimented her on her talent and beauty regularly. My big sister reveled in gymnastics til she was 13 and moved on to cheerleading. With her honor roll grades, and her 21 year old boyfriend, she was the epitome of perfect.

If she were to read all that, she'd say, "Becky, you stole my clothes and ruined them! All. The. Time. You wormed your way into my slumber parties and annoyed us all! You cried about everything to get your way!"

I suppose you have to have both sides to be objective. That's me. Being objective.

*sly grin*

I stole her clothes for 1 simple reason: hers were better.

My parents put a lock on her door and gave her the only key. I still found a way.

My mom got me some cute my little pony hand me down undies from her friend's daughter. (that's gotta work, right?) I still (of fucking course) stole her clothes.

My sister went away to college. Anything she left behind, purpose or not, was mine. From 1995 til I moved out of the house, her things became mine.

Unfortunately, so did her responsibilities.

{I'll skip the tangent I was about to go on}

Back to jealousy: it was easy to be a little girl and jealous of your older sister who was better in every way. Can anyone from my family blame me?

I was frequently told to shut up by my sister and older brothers when I cried. I was told, "If you're gonna do that [crying], go up to your room and do it there" by my dad. Mom claims we had nothing in common, that's why she didn't do as many things with me, she says I gave up. I think it's because my mom and I had too much in common, so it was harder for us to get along and our patience decreased with time.

I had imaginary friends and students (yeah, i played pretend teacher) that would listen when I needed it. I whispered to them frequently because I felt hated for having strong emotions that resulted in tears.

And here was my big sister. Strong as a rock. She held her head up everywhere and if she ever felt vulnerable, you couldn't tell.

Seriously, can you really blame me for jealous feelings?

I dislike feelings of jealousy because they remind me of when I was 10.

This morning, I felt jealous. I found out that someone I'm trying to befriend has been "sleeping with the enemy" so to speak. Not literally, of course, and not an enemy. It's difficult to explain whilst keeping privacy so I'll just say the feelings were unwarranted, and yet, I felt them anyway.

Then the feelings of resentment came and I quickly found myself wishing something bad would happen. The consciousness of those feelings made me angry. I don't want to have qualities like that. I don't want to be one of those immature people who slash their ex's tires or prank call their enemies.

What do I do, then?

What do I do in this situation with .....*sigh* privacy

Why am I disliked for my sensitivity?

I already answered that one: it's cause the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

I want help. I want advice. I want my parents.

Unfortunately, my parents only respond to what they want to respond to and one of them doesn't keep secrets well. My dad is a wordsmith. Yeah, that's a new word for me, but it makes sense. You need to watch what words you use around and to him because he hears every word. Since my feelings are strong and I frequently stick my foot in my mouth, I get caught in Dad's headlights a lot. He usually repeats whatever I said in passing, in his incredulous voice. He then adds his disapproving eyebrow wrinkle and slight head shake for extra emphasis on your failures. He also speaks and writes a thousand times better than me.

Dad's not the one I can confide in. I'm all grown up and any feelings of immaturity are met with immediate disappointment. In fact, my entire life, with the exception of my husband and kids, feel like a disappointment to him. He would shake his head and wrinkle his brow if he read this, too.

Mom tells everything to my sister. I already feel like a failure in my sister's eyes. And anyone else to whom she speaks.

This post is becoming more and more like a journal entry. Ah well. You came and read this far, right?

Jealousy and resentment. How does one deal? Comment. Message. Ponder. Tweet. Whatevs.

lufbecky

Gets darker with sadness

When I was in high school, my art teacher, Mrs. Higgins, pulled me aside one afternoon. She asked me if I was ok. At which point, I burst into tears. I'm not even sure what was going on in my life at that time, I just know I was a depressed and angry teenager. After confiding in her and she telling me the normal "we were all there once" speech, I had know, how did she know anything was wrong?

Art was my favorite subject, obviously, and it made me so grateful and relaxed when I walked into that blissful art room. The moldy smell of clay soaked rags, old brushes, the bite of newly opened paints that, for just a split second, made you feel life a fresh start was about to begin. All of it! The lameness of the construction paper to the stink of slip pot: I loved it all! The art room was where I smiled.

I get goosbumps just thinking about it. Smiling there for a moment writing, but it's fading....

Therein lies my point:

Mrs. Higgins noticed something was wrong because my painting suddenly got darker.

Right now, as I battle with strong depressive feelings, I wonder if my writing shows it getting darker.

Boy, do I miss that art room and I've give anything to be sitting back in that stupid stinky little disarray of creativity.

It made me satisfied. Not exactly happy, per se, but satisfied.

Where did that feeling go? Despite my mother in law's tremendous drive for cleanliness satisfaction, I get nothing. Nothing at all. That's why it's so hard to understand my point of view. I'm nothing like that. There's no satisfaction in cleaning. It's just going to end up messy again.

Sigh.

I feel like I'm speaking like Eeyore.....

Alright. Well. I guess I'll go then...

Ramblings of a logically creative intellect

Kids are in school and I have some time which should rightfully be spent cleaning (since I lapsed on the floors this weekend) but alas, my spirit is explosive with colors (yes, today, it's colors)! It's good I have a little baby cause no one understands glitter quite like a kid. Glitter is never bad. Even 5 years later when you still occasionally find it on your eyelid, it's never bad, just means you need to get out your crafts 

wink emoticon

On that note, I must revel in my awesome for a min: I cleaned and organized 3 of my 5 boxes of fabric! This, my lovely friends, is amazeballs. It's truly a huge leap in becky-kind. My mom is the Queen of Organization so I have the skill, just need to tap into it more often. AND I fully expect to finish the other 2 boxes before the weekend.

Pretty sure I wanted to mention something but this is way better. Ramblings of a logically creative intellect, heehee.

Hey, I read somewhere recently that a Nigerian student studying in Japan solved a 30 year math equation in his first semester.

"Stubborness is just being loyal to your convictions"

                                                  -Becky Lynn Greene

That's mine. My quote. You like? I'd like to add that I'm very loyal.

And lastly, this is a picture of me and my little brother when we were little. Mom sewed a lot of our clothes....