Pizza and drug dealing monkeys

 

I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,' declares the LORD, because you are called an outcast, Zion for whom no one cares
Jeremiah 30:17

I went out tonight. I left the kids with my parents. The plan was to go get pizza and go to a movie. I can't think of the last movie I saw in a theater other than Grown Ups and that was quite a while back. Sitting still is not my forte and spending tons of money to sit still is even farther down my chain of desires. However, a pizza and a movie sounded like what normal people do so I went for it. I even decided to see the movie that everyone else seems to be seeing - Hang Over 2. I admit that I tried watching the first one but couldn't finish it because it upset me to see them treating a baby so badly even if it was just a movie and hearing the F word repeated over and over again really bothered me. Anyway, we had the pizza. Check. We went to the movie. Check. Wow. That's about where the checks stopped. Throughout the movie, I kept finding myself feeling very uncomfortable with the content and the language. I kept telling myself that my stupid naivety is what caused so many of my problems and that this is what real adults watch so I sat there. I lost count of how many times I tried to calm my conscious. Every other word was F and I lost count of how many naked appendages I saw. I kept thinking that maybe if I'd been more permissive of movies like this that my life would be different. If I was more open to worldly ways, things might not be like this. If, if, if... The movie ended. (I won't even begin to tell you what my conscious was shouting while the credits rolled and the "found" photos scrolled past. If you've seen the movie, you understand). But despite the feeling that I was being naughty or that I was going to get caught (that's always a dead give away that you're doing something you shouldn't if you fear getting caught), I kept trying to silence those "goody goody" feelings. Maybe if I'd been more adventurous and less of a goody goody, things would be different. Argh!

As I drove to get the girls, I cried. I cried for watching a movie that really didn't bring any integrity to my life. I cried for thinking that I was "left behind" because of not being wild and crazy enough. I cried for thinking that "she" does all of those things the right way. I cried because I want to fix it but don't have the power. I cried because I'm tired of wondering, "Why?" Ultimately, though, I cried because in an attempt to try to figure this out, I compromised ME. Once again, I can so totally see why women do crazy things when they're in this kind of situation. I guess in my naive little world, you could count tonight as something wild and crazy. Ha. At least I don't think I did any permanent damage other than being dreadfully fearful of little Caputian monkeys now!

I'm trying. I really am. I want to find normal again but I simply don't have a reference point. OK, that's not true. I do have core values to build on and guide me but... So, I'm whining. I'll stop. I'm going to bed to dream of weird drug dealing monkeys coming to get me while shouting vulgarities at me and possibly a silent monk standing nearby to watch the scene unfold and then crack me across the back with a bamboo stick if I shout out! (If you haven't seen the movie, never mind)!