I’m pretty sure I didn’t obsess over things before my daughter died. I feel like the older I get the crazier I am. Not in the way like “Oh Rachael? She’s crazy, I always have fun when I’m with her!” More along the lines of “Rachael?” (raised eyebrows, and shaking head) “She’s crazy.”
I used to be the type of person who was always down for whatever. A free spirit. Spontaneous. I lived my life with reckless abandon.
Not anymore! My idea of a good time is an evening on the porch with a glass of red wine and The Honey. Most days I don’t even leave the house. I’m perfectly content being at home with my family. The days of reckless abandon have been replaced with responsibility and a sense of belonging.
I’m sure that all sounds nice to you, except the truth is I don’t like to leave my house because I’m awkward, and I have social anxiety. I panic when I’m around a group of people and I don’t know what to say. When I do speak its always a STUPID joke that sounded funny in my head but makes no sense at all when I say it. Usually I just keep my eyes down and try to avoid people, cling desperately to The Honey, or drink some wine to try to loosen up and end up polishing off the whole bottle while simultaneously peeing my pants and drooling on myself. I may or may not be exaggerating a little.
No one wants to see that.
Since Juliet died I have noticed that I obsess. I obsessively obsess. A typical day goes like this: “Honey did you know that blue is in right now?”
“Honey everyone is painting their walls white, can you believe that?”
“Honey I think I might stencil our walls, do you like this?”
“Honey I really need you to bring me some wood home from work.”
“Honey I want to make a blanket ladder, and then a coffee table, and then a dining table, and then maybe ill build a house!”
“Honey can I just show you this one thing on Pinterest I really like?”
“Honey can you buy us dinner? I didn’t have time because I was at HomeGoods.”
All these questions fly at The Honey one after the next. Why? Because I obsess. I eat sleep and breathe interior design- to the point that it may be unhealthy. I know for sure I’m driving The Honey crazy because at one point I could see steam coming out of his ears and his eyeballs looked like they were gonna POP out of his head.
I have promised him on several occasions that I will try to keep it to myself from now on, but sometimes I feel like a geyser that’s ready to burst.
You know on hoarders how the people usually start hoarding when something traumatic happens in their life? Well I think that’s what happened to me. When Juliet died I started obsessing over Pinterest because home décor made me happy and it was a way to keep my mind occupied. The only problem is that I don’t know how to shut it off.
I guess for now I’ll just work on not driving The Honey crazy.