Relateable Me

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Conquering the Ubsurd January 9, 2010

Filed under: Confessions — relateableme @ 6:40 pm

I hate New Year’s resolutions for so many reasons. I hate the pressure of binding commitments eventhough this one is only with myself – I hate to let myself down. I also hate them because they are a waste of time as I have never known anyone, self included, who has kept one for more that 2 weeks. Also, I hate them because everyone does them and I hate being clumped with “everyone” (which is really lame because i’m a Twilight junkie). Vices aside, I have something in mind that I’d like to work on this year. It’s not a resolution, just something I’d like to change about myself.

I tend to be a rather fearful person, but it’s always about stupid stuff. I have no problem picking up my bags and moving to Eastern Europe straight out of high school, but I’m afraid of public restrooms. Do you see where I’m headed with this? It’s the rediculous things I sweat, I worry about and keep me from relaxing.

I love to play the piano, but I hate playing for anyone who is actually listening.  My kids will bop in and try to distract me because, God forbid, they don’t get ALL my attention. Sometimes my father-in-law will sit and listen, but mostly it’s a form of therapy for me; a quick psychological break from the fast stream of life. But the other night we had friends over and they wanted to hear me play. I broke out in a cold sweat, my hands began to shake and I tried to talk them out of the request. They insisted, so I sat down, already defeated. I didn’t even make it through the song. It was like I was looking at the piece for the first time and hadn’t played it countless times before. I was so embarrassed and my husband stared at me dumbfounded “Who is this person pretending to be my wife?”

The whole event took me back to a piano recital my freshman year of high school. It was Christmas time and I had memorized a fancy version of a familiar carol. I sat at the piano to play in front of everyone and began…and stopped…and began again. Three times. I never made it through. I stood up, apologized and never played for anyone again. It wasn’t my first recital, I’d been playing for years. But something about that age, that night and where I was in life paralysed me and I never got over it.

These are the fears I’m speaking of, the ones that make no sense, the ones that make me shudder when I open a door of a public bathroom stall. These are the ones I want to conquer – the ubsurd.


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