My college swim coach gave out an award at the end of each season called the PMA award.
The Positive Mental Attitude Award.
It was given to me in both my junior and senior years.
That was like… yikes… 25 years ago.
Since then, over the past two and a half decades, a lot of shit has gone down.
Some of it was out of my control.
And some of it was my own doing.
When I was twenty four, I got pregnant. Then I got engaged. Then I had a miscarriage.Then I got married. Then I got divorced.
I got a great teaching job in Pennsylvania and taught there for three years.
Then I got engaged and moved back to CT.
I interviewed for two teaching jobs in two well respected school districts and was offered jobs on the spot at both places. I took one of them. And then I broke off my engagement.
Shortly after that, I entered a seriously abusive relationship.
A couple years later I managed to get myself out of that nightmare. Then I entered a seriously codependent relationship (I was the codependent one).
Then I slipped into a deep depression, was admitted to a psychiatric hospital, was released a week later, went home, and was dumped by my boyfriend a few weeks after getting out of the nuthouse.
I moved home with my parents and attempted to manage the depression from the break up by buying a guitar and teaching myself how to play.
I eventually moved into a condo that my parents owned and I rented from them. The guitar playing wasn’t going too well, so I started smoking pot in record setting quantities instead. And I’m not exaggerating about the quantities.
I continued to teach, had a few failed relationships, met my husband, quit smoking pot, quit teaching, got married and then got pregnant about ten minutes after I got married.
I had one kid, then another, then OD’d on an entire bottle of Xanax, ended up in the psych ward of Danbury Hospital, realized if I didn’t get my shit together I could potentially have my kids taken away from me, found a good therapist, got my brain straightened out, and had three more kids.
Then we filed for bankruptcy and have recently spiraled down even further into the worst financial situation of our lives.
That’s pretty much my last 20 years in a nutshell.
And through all of this, I have felt that PMA slipping away.
There have still been glimmers of it remaining and poking its head through every now and again.
It’s not all bad.
I’m still managing to stay somewhat positive.
Considering everything I’ve gone through and the financial crap we are currently navigating, I feel pretty good that I’ve managed to lose a bunch of weight, write this blog, keep the kids alive, run a couple marathons, raise lots of money for charity, remain married, and stay out of the looney bin.
But I have felt myself, as I sit in the same hooded sweatshirt and yoga pants for four consecutive days and witness my kids systematically destroy the house, actually hating almost every second of the day. And just counting down the seconds until it’s bedtime.
Not a bit of PMA in sight.
How did that happen?
How did I turn into that person who complains as much as (or more than!) I appreciate?
And when the fuck did I acquire a resting bitch face?
My PMA-sporting twenty-year-old-self would be so dissapointed.
In fact, I think the wrinkle lines from my resting bitch face are now becoming as prominent as my laugh lines.
And that’s no good.
I really thought about this yesterday when we had an unexpected snowstorm and I pretty much wanted to kill everybody.
Where had the PMA gone?
I made a conscious effort to resurrect it.
I’ve been pretty open about the finances here on the blog.
And some readers directed me toward a couple websites. And one was Mr. Money Mustache.
So yesterday while I was making lemonade out of the snowstorm and I was down at my parents’ house and they were hanging with the kids, I checked out his site.
And I ended up on this post. The Practical Benefits of Outrageous Optimism.
Huh.
I wasn’t just being handed gentle reminders.
I was being given a PMA slap in the face.
There were so many things in that post that I related to.
In fact, I even mentioned some of them (although not exactly in the same words), at Not Your Average Weekend.
So anyway, I was led to that website and that blog post on purpose.
For a reason.
In most areas of my life, I feel pretty lucky. I feel like as soon as I set my mind to something, I make it happen.
I don’t have any doubts.
I’ve made marathons happen.
I’ve made raising money happen.
I’ve made Not Your Average Weekend happen.
But I’ve been making myself out to be a little bit of a victim in this whole financial thing.
To some extent, I have been the victim of unfortunate circumstances.
But just the other day I explained to someone who left a comment on the blog about how we have cut back in every possible area there is to cut back in.
Then I “met” MMM, and I realized I was wrong.
There are some things I can still do.
Lots of things, probably.
And you know how I like a challenge.
So it’s on.
And tomorrow, I’ll fill you in on where I’m going to start.
Donna says
Susie, I admire all you have ACCOMPLISHED!! I love your blog and your creativity! I could not do what you have done. Yes, I have a Master’s, I’m teaching, and I have two grown girls, but you are sooooo bright with all your creative endeavors. You’re fortunate to have your parents help you with the kids. Some people don’t have any living relatives. You’re also fortunate your kids are healthy, you’re healthy, and so is your husband. Ok, the weather has been crappy and you’re stuck in the house with screaming kids. I would give anything to have my girls little again, stuck in the house together. Years from now, how would you feel in a big, silent house, with some $ in the bank, but you’re all alone… Think: this too shall pass, my glass is half full, and rising.