’tis the season

On November 13, 2018 By overthinkingthingsthrough1 Comment

It’s that time of year again. The time of year when the human race becomes divided into two groups: those who start listening to Christmas music the day after Halloween… and those who don’t. Can you guess which group I’m in?

Merry Christmas!

As Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree was playing in the car the other day, my boyfriend asked why I had Sirius Holiday Traditions set to the first preset only two days after Halloween. I simply replied, “because Christmas makes me happy!”

And then I started thinking about it, why do I love Christmas so much? Why do I start listening to Christmas music on November 1st? Why does my heart skip a beat when I hear the first Christmas commercial of the season? Why do I go out of my way to walk through Yankee Candle immediately after they put their Christmas scents out? Why do I make a schedule to ensure I have time to watch all the Christmas classics? Why am I obsessed, truly obsessed with Christmas?

According to a study I read on Facebook, people who decorate for Christmas early are much happier, and everything you read on the internet is true! No but really, Christmas is a time where nostalgia tends to take over, and we are reminded of the simpler times. We live in a stressful world filled with a lot of uncertainty. Christmas serves as a positive association for many of us. Once we start feeling stress or anxiety, we cling to our happy associations; Christmas being a strong one. So those of you who knock on us for getting into the Christmas spirit so early, give us a break! There is actually a reason for it.

15894945_1658802351085758_2471272931715245291_n — Gatsby helping me “decorate” at only 10 weeks old!

I have made it no secret that my childhood was very difficult at times. Between having divorced parents, my family being touched by substance abuse and mental illness, suffering from severe anxiety as a child, and the “normal” trials of life – it wasn’t easy being me.

I have always been known to feel things deeply, and the associations to Christmas were ones that I hung onto for dear life. The smells, the sounds, the sights – anything and everything Christmas evokes emotion in me; profound and happy emotion.

No matter what was going on in our family, December was ALWAYS a time of joy. My family, specifically my Nana, always went above and beyond to make sure that Christmas was perfect. Once Thanksgiving was over, my grandparents’ house turned into the North Pole. All year I would long for the constant smell of freshly baked cookies mixed with the Christmas tree I was highly allergic to (so worth the itchy eyes and wheezing). I couldn’t wait to say hi to each of the Santa’s that were displayed throughout the house or to hear Josh Groban and Celine Dion’s Christmas albums on loop. Their basement was like Santa’s workshop. Gifts and wrapping paper and ribbon everywhere! Piles and piles of gifts for every member of our family. I remember my Nana would make me shut my eyes while walking past my pile. I may or may not have tried to peak…

Christmas has also been a special time of year for my family because of our store. For 34 proud years, d.j. crater was THE place in Chatham to shop for holiday gifts. Those who would walk into our store during the holiday season would surely hear Christmas music playing, while being greeted by our family and wonderful staff. My Nana would serve her famous Christmas cookies and we would gift wrap the holiday gifts our customers picked out for loved ones. We were known for our window displays: two “ladies” wearing Christmas tree skirts standing proud on Main Street. Christmas at d.j. crater was something very special, and everyone who was part of our traditions could attest to that. This being the first Christmas season of my life without d.j. crater, it feels like a big piece of the holidays will be missing. Although I will miss Christmas at my happy place, I cherish the 25 years I was able to call that store my home for the holidays.

10351667_1388272408138755_6319623643235772351_n — The “ladies”.

The purpose of this post is not to try and force my hardcore Christmas beliefs on anyone or convince people to listen to Christmas music two months before the holiday actually arrives (although it may increase your serotonin levels!) I don’t plan on locking my loved ones in my house and kidnapping my boss all while trying to salvage a too far gone Christmas dinner…

“Where do you think you’re going? Nobody’s leaving. Nobody’s walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no! We’re all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We’re gonna press on, and we’re gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny f*cking Kaye.”

The purpose of this post is to shed light on why some people, like me, need Christmas. Christmas is a part of who I am. Since I was a little girl, Christmas has served as proof that there can in fact be a time of pure happiness – an escape from the fighting and worries. It may have only been for a short amount of time each year, but during that time I cherished each and every moment.

So when people ask me why I start listening to Christmas music so early, I will smile to myself and think about the memories of our store, the smell of pine trees, the taste of warm Christmas cookies, and my happy family all together… but I will just simply tell them, “because Christmas makes me happy.”

“be who you needed when you were younger”

On February 2, 2018February 2, 2018 By overthinkingthingsthrough5 Comments

Hey there – its been a little while. Here are my reasons as to why I haven’t been writing the last couple months: work, the holidays, my dog getting neutered and me having to mentally prepare for weeks leading up to it, and my family’s store of 34 years closing its doors for good.

All of these are pretty damn good excuses – and yes, they are all accurate reasons as to why I haven’t written – but that’s not really why. The truth is that I have been going through some shitty stuff. Stuff that has sort of consumed me and has brought me back to when I was a child, bursting at the seams with fear. Now I am not here to play the victim and have you all feeling sorry for me. Not at all. I have actually been hesitant to write about this. I am sure every family has gone through what my family is going through. It’s really quite simple. In fact, it all comes down to this: people not acting the way you want them to. Of course there are messy details that make the situation heightened – but those details don’t really matter. What matters is that we all have pictures in our head and expectations of how we want our loved ones to act. We believe that THIS is how they should be… and then we get disappointed when they let us down. We think that maybe one day we will finally learn. One day we will accept that maybe this is just how its supposed to be. Maybe one day I’ll get to that place – it sure sounds nice.

I have made it clear to you all how fear has been a debilitating force in my life. How I shut down and isolate when I am scared. I made a big stink when I started this blog about how writing will help me get out of myself and help subdue my fears. Well, I am going through some scary stuff and I have not wanted to write. I have not wanted to open up about how scared I am, about how maybe I don’t have everything under control. And for that, I am embarrassed. So here I am. Writing again. Holding myself accountable.

I am feeling things I haven’t felt in a long time. My fears that I thought were buried have resurfaced. It almost feels like I am living in a dream of when I was a young girl, in a grown up body. I always thought that if I ever had to go through this pain again, that I would fall apart. That I would not be ok. I thought that there is NO way God will put me through this again. And if he did, there was no way in hell that I would be able to get through it twice. Well folks, I am in it and guess what? The earth is still spinning. The sun is still rising. The Patriots and Eagles are still going to the Super Bowl. Life is still going on! I am still going to work every day. I am still in a healthy, stable relationship with my amazingly patient boyfriend. I am still paying my rent. I am still obsessed with my dog. I am living my life. All this time I thought the world would come to a fiery end, but it has not.

Don’t get me wrong, I am still living in a lot of fear. I think I have made that pretty damn clear. It’s just that this time around, I am not letting it overcome me. I am not letting it destroy everything I worked so hard for – the life I have built for myself. I am not that 7 year old, big glasses girl who was afraid of her own shadow. I am an adult. A product of the experiences I went through.

This quote I came across has changed my life, and I try my best to live by it:

“Be who you needed when you were younger.”

I can’t change the past. I can only grow from it. I would do anything to be able to give my younger, scared self a hug. I would hold her tight and I would tell her that she is going to be more than ok. I would tell her that she is going to make people proud. I would tell her to be kind to herself. I would tell her that one day she will be grateful for all she is going through.

I think we could all be kinder to ourselves. We are our biggest critics, our worst enemies. We doubt ourselves and think that we are not strong, that we are incapable. I challenge all of you. Stop the criticism. Stop the self abuse. Just stop. Be proud of how far you have come while you were busy telling yourself that you wouldn’t make it. We are stronger than we think! I truly believe that our mind will not always win. In fact, I am proof that it will not. While I was busy telling myself that fear will always overcome me, I ended up building a life beyond my wildest dreams.

for the love of the game

On October 24, 2017October 24, 2017 By overthinkingthingsthroughLeave a comment

I turned the TV off before Houston’s George Springer could satisfyingly catch Greg Bird’s pop up to centerfield on Saturday night. I thought to myself that maybe if I didn’t watch the final out, it wouldn’t happen – wishful thinking. As I stared at the black TV screen my throat began to swell, my face began to burn, and tears formed behind my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. The season was over. Just like that. The Yankees were coming home, one World Series short.

Now some of you might be thinking, “SERIOUSLY?!…. It’s just a game!” Well, yes it is a game, but it’s also so much more… to me.

I remember it like it was yesterday. A one-hundred-and-something degree Saturday in July: my first Yankees game. I remember my skin sticking to the seats. I remember peering over my big round glasses as they slid off my face. I remember my brand new Paul O’Neil shirt, hanging below my knees. I remember the Yankees were playing Kansas City. Most importantly I remember holding my dad’s hand as he pulled me through (the old) Yankee Stadium. That one-hundred-and-something degree Saturday in July was one of the best days of my life. It was also the beginning of my love for the New York Yankees.

Sports have always been me and my dad’s thing. We have watched thousands of hours of sports together. He has taught me everything I know from a first down, to a Par 5, to a sacrifice fly. He has coached every team I have played on. He instilled in me the importance of determination, discipline, teamwork, and courage. He also made sure that I never left a game without a smile on my face, no matter what the final score was. My dad has been and will always be my biggest fan.

My dad has taken me to countless Yankees games. There was no better feeling than driving over the George Washington Bridge knowing that I would soon see my Bronx Bombers, my heroes. I remember one day in particular when my dad picked me up from school. As I was getting in the car, my dad reached behind my seat. He pulled out my Yankees hat and Jeter jersey, “We’re going to the Yankees game!!” And off we went: just the two of us. Nothing made me happier.

With my love for the New York Yankees comes my love for the 1 and 6 New York Giants. Another one of my favorite days ever was February 3, 2008. The day that the New England Patriots’ perfect season came to an end with “One Giant Loss.” I was at a Super Bowl Party with my dad. I remember that we did not sit down the entire night. I remember my stomach doing summersaults. I remember Tom Petty singing “Running Down a Dream” at half time while I prayed to God for a win. I remember watching David Tyree catch a ball on his helmet. Then I remember not being able to breathe. I remember Plaxico Burress catching the ball in the end zone. I remember my dad grabbing me, holding me as tears filled our eyes. Our New York Giants were The Super Bowl Champions.

How lucky am I to have a love this great for sports? They nauseate me, make me brutally angry, and bring me indescribable joy all at the same time (and no, I am not talking about my relationship with my boyfriend, a bitter Mets and Jets fan).

But on a more serious note, sharing a love for the same team is a pretty great way to form a connection with someone. For me, that connection has been with my dad.

So from my experience, watching sports is so much more than watching grown men run around fields chasing balls.

growing into myself

On October 5, 2017October 5, 2017 By overthinkingthingsthroughLeave a comment

The other day one of my coworkers noticed the collage of pictures next to my computer.

“You look really happy,” he said.

I’ve been getting that a lot lately. Friends and family members have been saying how happy they are for me. A great boyfriend, a beautiful dog, my first real job, a new apartment. It’s true. I am the happiest I have ever been.

But it took me awhile to get here.

Throughout most of my childhood I never really felt comfortable in my own skin. I was a four pound, twelve ounce ball of anxiety straight out of the womb. My parents divorced when I was five and that really affected me. I mean, how could it not? I may have been young, but I knew what was going on. Not much could get past me: all four eyes and three feet of me.

As I got older, the more fearful and insecure I became. Fearful of what people thought of me. Fearful of change. Fearful of trying new things. Fearful of letting people down. Wherever I went, there I was: the same ball of anxiety. I started looking for things (and people) to make me happy. I tried everything, and I mean everything to get out of myself. I just wanted to be numb. I was a people pleasing, insecure, fearful human being who was going down a scary road. I told everyone, “I got this” because I wanted people to think that I was okay. And it worked…

For a while.

Until one cold December morning about four years ago. I woke up to my very worried mother sitting on the edge of my bed. I remember feeling different. I felt defeated. There was a lot that I felt unsure about but the one thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want to feel that way anymore. And my mom assured me that I didn’t have to.

So on that very day it began. My journey of growing into myself.

I became honest – for the first time in my life – about how I felt. I started to actually like myself. I began to look at myself in the mirror, really look at myself, and not feel disappointed. I started to believe in myself, for the first time…ever. I starting connecting to people. I began to develop true relationships. What they say is true: how can I care about others if I don’t care about myself?

At the time of my so called “coming to Jesus moment” I was going to college down in Virginia. I knew that if I was really going to start over, I would have to make a pretty tough decision. I decided to leave my big fratty football school in the south and transfer to a much, much smaller school just eight minutes from my house. Although I was terrified, and sad to leave my friends behind in Virginia, this turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. So back home I came, to my large dysfunctional, loving family. (Little did I know that I would graduate cum laude from my new small school in the forest).

Recently while going through old folders on my computer, I came across the transfer essay I wrote when I was re-applying to schools. The last paragraph reads:

“I will never stop taking risks. Part of life is not only taking risks but also realizing that sometimes a particular risk may not be right for me. I have gained a lot of acceptance and willingness these past couple years, finding my path in life. The most important asset I have acquired is trust in myself. Trust that I will do what is best for myself and not settle for anything that does not bring out my best qualities.”

I hope that my blog helps at least one person to believe in their self. To trust their self. To stop being so scared. I spent so many years scared of EVERYTHING, until one day I just had enough.

I truly believe that God did for me what I could not do for myself on that cold December day four years ago. I was miraculously given the strength and courage to start over.

overthinking things through

On September 24, 2017September 26, 2017 By overthinkingthingsthrough9 Comments

IMG_3502_2 About 4 months ago I started my first real big girl job. A career that I did not go to school for (I guess changing my major four times wasn’t enough). But really, I can’t complain: nine to five, Monday through Friday, five days a week. It’s a routine. And I love routine. I like order. I like plans. I like that the Dunkin Donuts guy knows how I take my coffee every morning. I like knowing exactly what my day is going to consist of. I gave up lying to people about my ability to just “go with the flow,” because I can’t… at all. In fact, the unknown terrifies me. It can actually make me nauseous. I think it goes back to being a product of divorce. Back and forth and back and forth. When I finally felt comfortable at one house, it was time to leave and go back to the other one. When I finally stopped crying over leaving my dad, it was time for him to pick me up again. That is just how it went, for a very long time.

I’m starting to get comfortable in my new job. The dust is settling and I am aware of my surroundings again (I tend to go all-in, head first when faced with a new endeavor). But you would think that this would be a good thing, right? For someone who likes being comfortable? Well the thing is, I’m realizing that I don’t want to just be comfortable. I want to challenge myself. I want to take (small) risks. I want to grow. So I started thinking. Hard. What do I like to do that is completely out of my comfort zone? And then it hit me: write.

I did a lot of writing in high school, and a bit in college. My family has always encouraged me to write but fear got in the way. I was scared that other people might find out my true thoughts and feelings. Honesty is TERRIFYING and completely dangerous for your typical people pleaser (me). I’m still scared to write. Scared that people won’t care enough to read what I have to say (and they probably won’t). Scared that people will think I am inadequate. Scared that people will think I am vulnerable. But I have decided that I am going to write anyway. I am going to write about getting uncomfortable. About my relationships, my likes, dislikes, my fears (and trust me, there are a lot of those).

A little bit about me:

I overthink everything
I am in love with the most amazing man in the world
I come from an intense dysfunctional family (and I wouldn’t have it any other way)
Fear has been a controlling force throughout most of my life
I have a deep love for the New York Giants
And the New York Yankees
Baseball will never be the same for me without Derek Jeter
My dad is the most influential person in my life
Followed by my sister
I suffer from severe separation anxiety when leaving my dog
I miss being in school
I love doing jigsaw puzzles
I care too much about what other people think
My favorite part about Catholic school was wearing a uniform everyday for twelve years (shocker)
I am terrified of any amount of change
I can name every state capital
I forget to breathe every day
The only way I grow is by stepping out of my comfort zone (and getting really uncomfortable)

So here I am doing a thing. A thing that is completely out of my comfort zone. But being comfortable is totally overrated, right?