I have been known to be a little obsessive over things. Sometimes, obsessions are good. For example, when I obsess that I have to smell good. That is an obsession that inadvertently makes everyone else happy. No one is offended by Gail’s smell. Gail is not the one who leaves the foul odor behind in the grocery store aisle. However, when I obsess over the fact that I think I was rude at work accidentally, and spend the rest of the day literally feeling nauseous because I don’t want people to think I am an insensitive jerk, that might be an unhealthy obsession.
Another unhealthy obsession is thinking you are a horrible mother, when in fact, you know you are not. Just, some nights … after a day of being nauseous at work (see above), you might feel like the fact that the only thing that is making your night bearable is that cheap glass of wine you love to drink. It relaxes you. It takes the edge off. It makes you able to not feel the need to correct everything out of your beautiful, intelligent, sometimes frustrating teenage girls’ mouths. It makes you more of an accepting person.
But then, you start to obsess that you drink too much or that you are a horrible mom just because you have a glass or two of wine at night. This, my friends, is not a good obsession. This is a spiral into the pits of self-pity and self-hatred, obsession. A.K.A. a bad obsession.
I say, enjoy your nights. Take a little edge off. Have a drink or two if your oils, meditative breathing, and self-talk aren’t working.
Feel free to tell me I’m wrong. Feel free to tell me I’m a horrible mother because I don’t enjoy listening to my daughter’s argue over You Tubers. (Should that even be capitalized??) But know, that I toast your admonishments with a glass of cheap, low-carb wine. Care to join me?