Resisting the Overshare
Raise your hand if you read that title and thought, “She thinks she resists oversharing? Wow, what is she like unfettered?” Yeah, I see that sea of waving hands. And you’d be right. When I’m troubled by something, at any level, I tend to talk about it. But these days I’m struggling to resist that temptation.
I think my tendency to overshare comes from years of not talking about things as a child. I learned early on that talking about the things that were troubling me only added to the pile o’ trouble. So, I zipped the lip and stuffed things down to my toes where they could fester nice and quiet-like for 20-some years.
Then came therapy and aging and Mister Soandso and I became a muppet-flailer of Gonzo proportions.
Which is precisely what you would see if you were able to be in my kitchen right now. Me, flailing about, looking way more like Gonzo than Kermit. And why am I in such a dither? Can’t say. Remember, I’m resisting the urge to overshare. Mostly because in reality, all my issues are pretty boring or not ready for sharing with the public. So I’ll save you from the tedium.
But I was thinking about my newly found desire to share all the debris of my life…is this the result of therapy? Or is it the fact I’ll be turning 44 soon and I’ve outgrown my filter as much as that really cute size 6 mini-skirt I still have hanging in my closet?
I think yes. And yes.
But since I brought up the whole oversharing bit, and we all know that folks dishing dirt is more than a tad entertaining in the same way we click on Reddit links with the tag NSFL or peek at couples fighting in fancy restaurant, I’ll go ahead and overshare some stuff.
- I like gross things like popping zits or, gasp!, even better was that one time Oldest had some weird nasty abscessed thing on his leg that was so freaking disgusting when I lanced it that I sometimes I find myself wishing it were Groundhog Day so I could lance it again and again and again. It was that wonderfully disgusting.
- I also really like peeling sunburned skin off. As long as it’s productive. Hate, hate, hate it when it comes off in teeny-tiny bits. That just pisses me off.
- Oh, which reminds me of one of my favorite past-times as a child. I’d take a putty knife out to the tractors and scrape off all the dirt encrusted oil from the metal bits. It was like stripping furniture without all the chemically smells. (I like to strip furniture too, btw.)
- But some gross stuff I just can’t do. Like blood. Especially drippy blood. Which is why scary movies and I are not friends. Why spend money to huddle behind your hands? Even tv bloody gore is too much for me. So all those movies scenes where the blood is drippy? Freaks me the frak out. Ex: any zombie or alien biting action, the arm scene from Saving Private Ryan, and most of every episode of The Game of Thrones.
- Possibly less disgusting is that I have eyebrows like a Doberman Retriever — all the hair grows primarily above the inside corner of my eyes. I want to know which birthday is associated with no longer growing eyebrow hair in the right places? Is it like wedding anniversaries? I swear, I have to tweeze hair daily from between my eyebrows. How is this right? (This pondering, btw, was the idea seed that led to this post on time passing.)
- I suffer from some hoarder tendencies. Yes, I know I already fessed up to this peccadillo a couple of years ago, but I’m not farther along in all my recovery steps. However, I should note that I do not hoard all things. All those stacks of work sheets my kids bring home? I am a master at recycling them. (I am still working on my technique though because Middlest is always digging them out of the recycling bin and wondering why on earth I would have mistakenly recycled them.) So what do I want to hoard? Things like cans of green beans. Mister Soandso broke me of my need to stock up with 10 or 20 of said canned goods during trips to the grocery store years ago. But I still find myself running my fingers over the canned goods at the store and feel that tingling sensation….
- I also have a few compulsive food items that it’s just better for everyone if I don’t buy. One is a certain type of tortilla chips. I’m pretty sure Juanita fries them in crack. The other thing is warm chocolate chip cookies. I’m not terribly bothered by brownies, or other types of cookies. But fresh CCC, warm from the oven still–hoedoggy, I’m in trouble. Like snarfing down dozens at a single sitting trouble.
- I don’t have lots of real OCD tendencies that people would recognize but inside my head…well, its an interesting place. However, for years I was quite compulsive about turning on my alarm every night. I would turn it on and have to check it at least four or five times. Within seconds of each look. I’m better about that now but I have to actually have my keys in my hand when I get out of my car or I’ll check my purse over and over again to be sure they aren’t still in the car.
- I don’t like my food to touch. And I tend to eat all of one thing before starting another. It is a rare calm day when I can eat a bite of the main course and then some veggie, etc. And you people who mix stuff together? Egad, you make my tummy rumbly. However, I quite like casseroles. Go figure.
- I really, really wanted to be a doctor. Like with a big whoa wanted to be a doctor. In fact, I still sometimes think about it. (The school part? Makes me happy. That’s how book-nerdy I am.) However, there is this one little detail that I realized would hold me back from the profession (besides the drippy blood, of course). When I see someone in pain, or hear them describe a painful experience, I have very strong chest pains. So, tell me about the time you cut your finger off and my chest aches. Or the time you fell off your bike and skinned up your knees. Or the time you miscarried at 13 weeks. It doesn’t matter. You tell me about some kind of pain you’ve suffered and I hurt for you. Seemed like a different profession was a good idea.
Okay, that’s enough oversharing. I promise you, there will come a day when what is really bugging the daylights out of me will be splashed across this page. But not today. I am trying to be good. At least a tad bit.
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