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I had another post planned to use today for Pour You Heart Out, but the words for what I wanted to write, just didn’t come. I planned to do a follow up post on my fears of not being able to get pregnant now that we want to; and to elaborate a little bit more on how I’m feeling about my slowly (if even at all) progressing attempts to enter the world of Graphic Design.
But, like I said, the words just wouldn’t come.
I started thinking, instead, about optimism. And life outlook. And expectations.
I consider myself to be a fairly optimistic person. I can generally see the bright side of things. And I’m almost always the one encouraging other’s that it will be ok.
I’ve always liked that aspect of my personality.
It’s gotten me through some difficult times. When both of my grandmother’s died the same week, the summer before my Senior Year of high school, it was ME who was encouraging everyone to keep their head up.
It’s just how I cope with things. I look on the bright side. I acknowledge that things could be worse. My outlook on life, is just that simple: it could be worse.
I’ve started to notice that my expectations from people and circumstances, are dwindling.
I don’t like to say that I’m necessarily losing Faith because I don’t think that’s really what it is (but, maybe I’m wrong…who EVER likes to admit that their faith is shaking?).
There have been so many times in my life where I’ve been disappointed in people. Where people have let me down. It’s happened with my family, it’s happened with my friends, it’s happened within churches, and it’s happened within my marriage.
Things happen and things turn my expectations upside down.
And I’m disappointed.
I’ve started to wonder if maybe my expectations are too high?
Do I expect too much out of people? Out of things?
Do I expect too much out of life?
Like right now…
I’ve been nauseated for a little over a week. Cramping, and gagging at the smell of mayonnaise or tuna fish (my husband loves tuna). But instead of allowing myself to be hopeful at the thought that I might be pregnant, like we’ve been wanting, I’m not even allowing myself to think it.
Because I’m afraid to get my hopes up.
I’m afraid of being let down.
I even had someone message me on Twitter and tell me that, though they hoped I might actually be pregnant, that I was probably just having a “hysterical pregnancy” because it’s all I’ve talked about for the last month. That I should probably call my doctor and talk to her…because “hysterical pregnancies” are—and I quote—mental conditions.
(I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but crazy has never been one of them. Needless to say, in case you’re wondering, I “unfollowed” and “blocked” said person from Twitter. People are rude.)
I’m afraid to ever really want anything, because things never seem to work out that way.
When I want something…when I really and truly want something…
It doesn’t happen.
It goes away.
It vanishes from within my grasp.
That’s why I pretended for so long that I wasn’t interested in my husband when we first met.
Because I was afraid that if I let on that I cared about him, that he would disappear, too. That it wouldn’t work out.
I know within my heart, that everything happens for a reason, and within God’s timing.
I know that.
But I’m scared.
Like I said in my last Pour Your Heart Out entry…
I’m just tired of being disappointed. It’s hard to feel inclined to expect good things, when you’re accustomed to things rarely working out.
*Note: I don’t usually write these kinds of posts because I don’t enjoy reading the comments telling me that “things could be worse” or that “I need to get over it” or “cheer up.” I’m certain that I’m not the only one who has ever felt this way. I’m very happy within my marriage, and I’m happy with being a mom to the son that we do have. I love the life that I live and I wouldn’t change anything about it. Please remember that. This post isn’t meant to sound like I’m miserable or that people are always letting me down. Just some things on my mind, some things on my heart. I know God’s will and timing will prevail in the end. No matter what I do. Thanks for being considerate in your comments. 🙂
Linking up this post with Shell @ Things I Can’t Say for Pour Your Heart Out Wednesday.