My life, at times, seems like a giant blur. I thrive on chaos, getting my strength and energy from pressured moments. My best papers in highschool were written at 3 am the day of my 8 am class deadline. Not that I didn't work on it until then, I did. I always began the paper on the day it was assigned, turned in the "topic mapping" and rough drafts. I would sit down, almost in a pattern, the evening before the paper was due and set to work on the final draft. Instead of just having finishing touches, I would have a moment of genius about midway through the paper, and go an entirely new route. Armed with $.50 I would head to the common room vending machine to grab some much needed caffeine, stop and say hi to my friends whose doors always remained opened, getting back to my room near midnight. Then with a pen in my hand, I would write an "A" paper from start to finish with no mapping, drafts, or edits. I am not sure why I was able to do that, I can only assume it came from pressure.
One time, while trying to get student aide through the FAFSA, I was audited and required to get info from the IRS regarding my mothers yearly income tax. My mother, sweet as she is, believes sometimes in funny conspiracies and would not for the life of her, call and request the information. I called the IRS many times begging for them to just give me the information. I had all her credentials (SS #, address and so on-- oddly enough supplied by her to help get the info, though she refused to get on the phone) to gain access, but was still denied. Finally the day of the audit, I called the IRS and pleaded one more time. When refused, I asked 'could I get the information if my mom just got on the phone for a minute', the answer was yes. In true pressure style, I "called out" to my mother; who at the time wasn't even in the same city as me; switched my voice a bit and did my best impersonation to get the information faxed to the financial aide office.
In relationships, I have never been 'ok' with being "ok". When things are going smoothly, things are seemingly perfect and normal, I can feel my skind crawling with an awkwardness. I start fights, seek out drama, or if I cannot find it, I create it. To me, this "controlled chaos" makes me feel normal. Makes me feel ok, familiar. I attribute this to my chaotic upbringing, which is a tale far to involved and too long for this one post. In a nut shell, I was raised by a single mother who was just 23 when left with 2 daughters under 5. We moved almost every two years, met more boyfriends that I can count, and on more than one occasion played pretend in the back seat of a car on the side of the road to pass the time while mom napped in the driver's seat.
It may be hard for you to believe now, but though I do well with chaos and pressure, out of the majority of my family, I am the most normal. I finally have a good, steady job, a hardworking and loving husband, and a beautfiul 2 year old daughter. We live in a small town, in a nice house, and enjoy creating memories while looking forward to the things to come in the future. We do not live paycheck to paycheck, have never gone without electricy or water, and have never had any real crisis' thank GOD. It's strange sometimes for me to look at some other people in my family, I think 'why are they ok with this type of life'.
Sitting here in my living room, with all the windows open, fan blowing and crickets chirping, I am reminded of how wonderful my life is. That under this roof I have all I have ever wanted, and I am truly alive and blessed. I have been through some semi tough times- I know many have been throw worse- but have come out pretty unjaded. I still cry when I see someone standing at the light with a cardboard sign (why is it BTW the sign is always cardboard?) catch my breath with there is someone on tv saying "I love you" and I still want to save the world, one chaotic life at a time.