Happy, But Pathetic

Today I am working happily.  Envisioning what I want to do and getting it done.  Still pathetic in that I am dying for reinforcement of my choices.  I feel unable to just be content with it.  It feels like I'm doing it, but I just don't have the knack that I wish that I did.  It drives me a bit crazy.  I used to be worse at this house thing and yet I was happy with myself....now, I know that I've gotten better at it, but I am less happy with myself.  A work in progress.  Learning to do and be happy with what I am ale to do.  I'm simply not the Martha Stewart type. Guess there are good parts to that...no insider trading for me.  No jail time.  There's always a positive side.
It's difficult to keep working knowing that what I choose to do is never the thing that was expected.  I know that I work strangely.  Make a mess to make it better.  I guess I'm just weird.  I ALWAYS make a mess before I make it clean.  No clue why.  It's how I work.  Well, unless company is on the way and we are simply shoving stuff away to make it look good on the outside. 
I am loving my "great room".  But, feeling uneasy.  Because this isn't what I feel sure of about myself.  When did I become so pathetic.  When did it become so hard to think that anyone would think good of me and what I do?  I am pathetically in need of praise.  Real praise.  Not the crappy "oh isn't that nice" kind.  I want to do this well.  I need to make my house my home.  MY home.  Crazy, I know.  I've lived here for years. 
I feel like I've been trying to settle in with my hands tied.  Everything I want to do or try to do gets thwarted.  From gardening to kitchen cupboards.  I have found that it was easier to give up and just live with it how it was.  But, it doesn't fill me.  It doesn't make me feel pleasure when I see it.  I NEED that.  It is how I am wired.
I go to a friend's house and she has this knack of making every space feel like home.  Pulls it all together and makes it cohesive.  Even in the midst of these chaotic teen years.  I love the feeling.  The joy of looking at things that bring pleasure.  The underlying peacefulness that comes from the cohesiveness.
I didn't understand it as much until I went to another friend's home.  She is a much better housekeeper....her "oh it's such a mess" is my "wow, it's nearly perfect."  But, her home doesn't make me feel comfy cozy.  The people are the same.  But it's something about the home.  My family makes people generally at home, but I'm missing this piece.  So, I looked around my friend's house.  I realized that it lacked cohesiveness.  Lacked personality.  Good stuff.  Just no sense of how it all goes.  So, I determined to figure it out.  I want to have that elusive togetherness in my home.  I want to make it my haven. 
To do so, I DO realize that there are some huge other things that have to happen.  I KNOW.  Got it.  You don't have to remind me.  I remember every single day.  All day. 
But, I'm learning to deal with the things that I can FIRST.  I can't fix everything else.  But I can do this.  At least I can try.  And keep trying.  And learn.  It's coming to me.  Slowly.  The ability isn't the hard and pathetic part.  The hard part is feeling the ability to allow myself to be proud of myself.  Somewhere I have hidden that part of me away.  Because she couldn't get knocked down anymore. 
Hey hey oh playmate.  Come out and play with me......I want my playful, whimsical self back to do the things that are FUN.  That make life pleasurable.  It's like giving birth.  Slow and painful.  But with great joy as well.  With anticipation.  This pathetic will pass.  Because that is not who I am.  I am strong.  I am full of courage.  I am smart.  I am creative.  I am kind.  I am understanding.  I am compassionate.  I am willing.  I am persistent.  I am hopeful.  I am worth knowing. 
Off to being happy, minus the pathetic.