mommy envy part deux

I guess my biggrst issue with all of this is a pounding insecurity that I have felt since childhood. I grew up in a family that expected great things. Period. I was expected to be the golden child, and while that is ok once in a while, I took it to the next level. I was expecting myself to always be perfect and that is a curse. I don't know how to relax really. Its a shame because I feel compelled to be on all the time, and when I don't meet my own very high expectations, I plunge into a deeper level of self hatred.
For example, i expect that my house will always be perfect. I blame my Grama for that. SHe was an expert homemaker, and I feel I fall way short of the very high bar that she set for me. Its hard to do it as well as she did, especially since I think she channeled all her frustrations and unmet expectations into her home. She did it all, and I think deep down subconsiously if I am not going to do it like Grama, why should I even bother. Its a sick way of thinking of things, but that is how I feel. I can't seem to get anything done. I am constantly distracted, and it bothers me that I feel like my home is suffocating me. Add to it the expectations of my husband, who like any normal man wants a clean house, food to eat, clean clothes and toilet paper and I feel overwhelmed all the time.
But its not him, its me that is the problem. I have so much angst stored up inside and it comes out like an explosion when I least expect it. I am not a loser, but I feel like it a lot of the time. I don't understand why I just don't get it like other women. I am living my dream-to be a wife and mom. To not work full time anymore. To be happy and healthy. Live in a beautiful home. And here I am so miserable its an effort to get out of bed everyday. I wake up exhausted. I go to bed exhausted. I have time in my day to create. I could write. I could paint. I could do one of my gazillion craft projects. Instead, I zone out and pretend that everything is ok.
Its not that I am depressed. I am just stuck in a quagmire of my own making. I deliberately do not pursue my passions. It is a conscious choice. Just like I write here sporadically. When I have the time, I say to myself. I haven't made the time. I don't do things that I love because I feel that I don't deserve to anymore. Huh?
SO, by punishing myself, I am making a bad situation worse. I don't take care of who I am at all. No exercise consistently. Not eating right. Not doing anything that I love anymore. I just feel like I am drifting along because I don't deserve to be happy.
It is an intense self loathing that brings me to this point. I never realized that I had reached this level. I am in a pit. I put myself here. I have to get out. Climb up one rock at a time. Its not that it is a hopeless situation, but I sometimes think that it is. I have to move beyond it and be happy. I have to stop making grandiose plans and endless to do lists that just reinforce that I don't get anything accomplished. I used to make myself write for 30 minutes a day, not including my journal. I stopped writing years ago on a consistent basis.
What actually stopped me from writing was I went to a poetry group reading. I always had some issues with others reading my work (insecurity again) and the guy that was leading this group dismissed my poetry as angry woman Tori Amos amateur writing. It really stung me, and I stopped cold turkey. Why did I let one person's comments affect me so? Because I am really that insecure. I need constant reinforcement that I am a good person and that I can do things really well. It seems that because I am being so negative lately, that I am only attracting negativity in my life (like attracting like). I have to break this cycle one day, one hour, one minute, one nanosecond at a time. But it doesn't seem like that is going to happen. See, I am beign negative again.
I had a year in my life that I can clearly remember that I was truly truly happy. I had great success at work. I looked good. I had an active social life. I had a beautiful home. I worked out every day. I wasn't in a relationship, but I was ok with that (it was between times getting together with the man that is now my husband). I was working on finding out who I was. And I discovered that I am a pretty awesome person. I did a lot of writing then, and I was incredibly artistic. I went to public lectures at Princeton University. I read a lot of diverse stuff. I took up needlework. I was really happy in where I was in life. I even started grad school. I am not sure what happened that made this happy time stop. But stop it did. I think I was afraid that I didn't deserve to be happy.
Its fear that keeps holding me back. I guess somewhere in my psyche I feel that I have to earn happiness just like I felt I had to earn love growing up. I never felt secure in knowing that I was loved growing up. The only time I ever heard any type of praise or loving remarks was when I performed well. Especially academically. And while I am trying to move beyond that....after 37 years of thinking one way, its so hard to change.