I have days where I feel like being somewhere else would be so much easier. Except I know how I am, and I'd find a way to put all the workload on myself. Is it a control issue? That's highly plausible.
I grew up in a family, as a young child, where my mother had no control. She wasn't weak, she just didn't realize how bad my biological father and his alcoholism was until it was too late. I remember being in grade school when she decided she had had enough. She's basically been going to college or working two jobs since then, and that was well over two decades ago (she's remarried and happy now, though completely compulsive about taking care of herself). She lost control once, and at my most impressionable age, I witnessed the catastrophic results of not being in control.
I lost control at one point, too. Spiraled into drug use and sexual promiscuity; bore witness to my own downfall. Ever since then, I've been a workaholic and a junkie on the job. Pushing harder and harder to always be the best, be the one who knew it all and could be counted on.
Until I need to breathe, just a moment to collect my thoughts and push through the panic attacks and, then, someone tears through me like I'm a wet paper sack. Today was just a crummy day.
I'm glad its the weekend. This pent up frustration I have will serve well in cleaning my dwelling that so badly needs it.
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