I have been trying very hard to exercise and eat right. It is so hard. It truly is. I have so little me time and honestly would much rather enjoy it sitting with a book or the boob tub then exercising. However, when I do exercise I do feel better. Much better in fact.
Need to continue this as much as possible.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
The Tortoise or the Hare
I run my life on a all or nothing approach. A approach that has benefited me in the past but that is not serving me well any longer. If I can't do it all, have it all then I don't want it. But life isn't like that not really and not often
evertime I diet I want instant results and plan out how many millions I will lose if I completly starve myself and exercise every day. When I plan on growing my henna business I want to book every weekend of the summer with a gig. When I decide to save or spend it's always big.
But again, that isn't maintainable. I can't have a all or nothing approach in everything I do. I am trying to slow down my reactions and my demands on myself and others
evertime I diet I want instant results and plan out how many millions I will lose if I completly starve myself and exercise every day. When I plan on growing my henna business I want to book every weekend of the summer with a gig. When I decide to save or spend it's always big.
But again, that isn't maintainable. I can't have a all or nothing approach in everything I do. I am trying to slow down my reactions and my demands on myself and others
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Maybe it's the sun?
I realize that many of my posts are of a negative nature. I am attempting to use this blog to bury some demons.
But I don't want to use a paintbrush that only uses dark hues to paint the portrait of my life.
I have things pretty damn good now.
A little over 4years ago I reconnected with my father and his family. People that I really knew little about, and what I did know was painted by my mother's paintbrush (see dark hues, and maybe some VanGogh type art)
It has had it's challenges but it has become the single most positive change I have experienced in my 30's (maybe tomorrow I will talk about my positive changes in my 20's)
I have a family without drama. One that loves me i believe for me. A family that values my strengths and in spite of my weaknesses.
They have elected me the offical family vacation planner. A title I take very seriosuly. A honor. And something that anyone who knows me understands I am PERFECT for! I love every second of planning anything, whether a party, a dinner party or a family vacation.
They invite me to things! I have lunch with my favorite Aunt ever! I joke with my sister, feel sweet sadness for my brother, worry about my cousin, and am overjoyed with another cousin's new motherhood
I sit on my Aunt's porch and shoot the shit. I listen to my uncles crazy republican rants and it doesnt even make me mad! I even have come to love the one aunt who can be "diffcult".
The uncle who I thought was so cool as a kid has become a amazing grandad.
I drink with my dad. He jokes with me. He calls me kiddo. Last summer he asked to have a picture taken with me. I am slowly begining to feel that I have a place in some of the myriad of stories he shares around his kitchen table. A place inside a home built from love between him and my stepmom. A home I feel safe in, welcomed in.
And speaking of y stepmother! A sweeter soul on this earth you will be hard pressed to find. And there is nothing step to me about her. She is my momma. This woman has overcome her own demons to raise her children with nothing but love and devotion. She loves my dad deeply in spite of himself. She cries happy tears and sad tears, both of which i get and do on my own. She loves to talk to me and with me.
So you see I am pretty darn lucky. I try my best to not focus on the time lost but to focus on the times ahead. The times on that porch, the times around that kitchen table. The trips and vacations. The phone calls. The love.
My family loves me and I love them.
But I don't want to use a paintbrush that only uses dark hues to paint the portrait of my life.
I have things pretty damn good now.
A little over 4years ago I reconnected with my father and his family. People that I really knew little about, and what I did know was painted by my mother's paintbrush (see dark hues, and maybe some VanGogh type art)
It has had it's challenges but it has become the single most positive change I have experienced in my 30's (maybe tomorrow I will talk about my positive changes in my 20's)
I have a family without drama. One that loves me i believe for me. A family that values my strengths and in spite of my weaknesses.
They have elected me the offical family vacation planner. A title I take very seriosuly. A honor. And something that anyone who knows me understands I am PERFECT for! I love every second of planning anything, whether a party, a dinner party or a family vacation.
They invite me to things! I have lunch with my favorite Aunt ever! I joke with my sister, feel sweet sadness for my brother, worry about my cousin, and am overjoyed with another cousin's new motherhood
I sit on my Aunt's porch and shoot the shit. I listen to my uncles crazy republican rants and it doesnt even make me mad! I even have come to love the one aunt who can be "diffcult".
The uncle who I thought was so cool as a kid has become a amazing grandad.
I drink with my dad. He jokes with me. He calls me kiddo. Last summer he asked to have a picture taken with me. I am slowly begining to feel that I have a place in some of the myriad of stories he shares around his kitchen table. A place inside a home built from love between him and my stepmom. A home I feel safe in, welcomed in.
And speaking of y stepmother! A sweeter soul on this earth you will be hard pressed to find. And there is nothing step to me about her. She is my momma. This woman has overcome her own demons to raise her children with nothing but love and devotion. She loves my dad deeply in spite of himself. She cries happy tears and sad tears, both of which i get and do on my own. She loves to talk to me and with me.
So you see I am pretty darn lucky. I try my best to not focus on the time lost but to focus on the times ahead. The times on that porch, the times around that kitchen table. The trips and vacations. The phone calls. The love.
My family loves me and I love them.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
The exact moment...
Sometime you can remember the exact moment your life changed. I can remember the year I became fat.
I have been overweight in some form or another since I was about 7 years old? That was the year my mother married her second husband, my own personal nightmare.
I was blamed for everything, seriously, he would do stupid shit like eat all the ice cream or break something then tell my mom i did it. Which of course she believed. I must be acting out over the marriage and my soon to be younger brother. Daryl came when I was 8 and Bradley came when I was 10. I adored my little brothers and can not recall any ill will I held towards them.
I hated their father. You see my step dad molested me. I know now that this is a epidemic in this country and especially for young girls the numbers are scary. I was not "special" in this regard
But perhaps my case was a little "special". You see not only did my step dad abuse me but I had the fun distinction of being abused by many of his equally high class friends.
The babysitter who happened to be the 20 something daughter of my step father's lover (mom wasn't supposed to know about our visits to the older woman's house where I would sit in the living room when they went in her bedroom to have a "smoke"). My mom let this lady's daughter watch me while she worked nights, one of the few times in my life my mom worked.
Then there were the almost grown kids of their best friends, whose rooms I was banished to. While the grownups were doing grown up things, I was engaging in other grown up activities. Then there were the best friends, parents to the siblings.
Throw on this heap a good deal of domestic violence, funny I never had the "courage" to fight off sexual abuse but would throw myself between my mom and her husband without fear when he was going to hit her. No wonder I am screwy.
I will save the gems of my mother for another post. Another post or ten to my mothers messed up family. This post is reserved for him. The man who changed my life.
So people deal with sexual abuse differently. Boys who are abused have a good chance of growing into men who abuse (case in point my daughter's sperm donor), for both boys and girls they grown up with addictions, self harming, eating disorders.
I became addicted to food. I felt if I could become as unattrative as possible then men wouldnt want to have sex with me. Plain and simple.
I also would punch myself, so full of anger I would hit myself in the stomach or go outside where I would hit trees over and over again with sticks or my jumprope.
I became hyper-sexualized at a young age.
But mostly I ate, sugar, comfort foods, potatoes anything really.
But here's the kicker, when you finally become old enough to articulate what happened to you and why you have this problem your body is used to being big, it's not like you find enlightenment and puff! you no longer want to eat three cheeseburgers. it takes tons of work to remove the habit and design of the tons of weight.
You can win a battle here and there. But unless you peel all those layers back and dsinfect the crap out of that wound, along with all the other wounds, the infection doesn't go away.
So I lose weight, gain weight.
My mother divorced the my monster when I was 12. When I was 14 he died in in a car accident. I few months later I told my mom some of what happened. She told me I must have dreamt it. I don't think I dreamnt it. My addictions and unresolved anger say I did not dream it.
So I have spent 20 plus years trying to undo 4 years of crap.
So I eat, alot.
I am working on getting to those wounds so I can pour a shitload of peroxide on those little fuckers.
I have been overweight in some form or another since I was about 7 years old? That was the year my mother married her second husband, my own personal nightmare.
I was blamed for everything, seriously, he would do stupid shit like eat all the ice cream or break something then tell my mom i did it. Which of course she believed. I must be acting out over the marriage and my soon to be younger brother. Daryl came when I was 8 and Bradley came when I was 10. I adored my little brothers and can not recall any ill will I held towards them.
I hated their father. You see my step dad molested me. I know now that this is a epidemic in this country and especially for young girls the numbers are scary. I was not "special" in this regard
But perhaps my case was a little "special". You see not only did my step dad abuse me but I had the fun distinction of being abused by many of his equally high class friends.
The babysitter who happened to be the 20 something daughter of my step father's lover (mom wasn't supposed to know about our visits to the older woman's house where I would sit in the living room when they went in her bedroom to have a "smoke"). My mom let this lady's daughter watch me while she worked nights, one of the few times in my life my mom worked.
Then there were the almost grown kids of their best friends, whose rooms I was banished to. While the grownups were doing grown up things, I was engaging in other grown up activities. Then there were the best friends, parents to the siblings.
Throw on this heap a good deal of domestic violence, funny I never had the "courage" to fight off sexual abuse but would throw myself between my mom and her husband without fear when he was going to hit her. No wonder I am screwy.
I will save the gems of my mother for another post. Another post or ten to my mothers messed up family. This post is reserved for him. The man who changed my life.
So people deal with sexual abuse differently. Boys who are abused have a good chance of growing into men who abuse (case in point my daughter's sperm donor), for both boys and girls they grown up with addictions, self harming, eating disorders.
I became addicted to food. I felt if I could become as unattrative as possible then men wouldnt want to have sex with me. Plain and simple.
I also would punch myself, so full of anger I would hit myself in the stomach or go outside where I would hit trees over and over again with sticks or my jumprope.
I became hyper-sexualized at a young age.
But mostly I ate, sugar, comfort foods, potatoes anything really.
But here's the kicker, when you finally become old enough to articulate what happened to you and why you have this problem your body is used to being big, it's not like you find enlightenment and puff! you no longer want to eat three cheeseburgers. it takes tons of work to remove the habit and design of the tons of weight.
You can win a battle here and there. But unless you peel all those layers back and dsinfect the crap out of that wound, along with all the other wounds, the infection doesn't go away.
So I lose weight, gain weight.
My mother divorced the my monster when I was 12. When I was 14 he died in in a car accident. I few months later I told my mom some of what happened. She told me I must have dreamt it. I don't think I dreamnt it. My addictions and unresolved anger say I did not dream it.
So I have spent 20 plus years trying to undo 4 years of crap.
So I eat, alot.
I am working on getting to those wounds so I can pour a shitload of peroxide on those little fuckers.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Homework. Really?
Master's level homework is a joke. Either one extreme or another. I either have these touchy feely teachers who have us write reflection after reflection. Tell them in a 2 page paper what we took away from whatever reading assigned? Really? Easy Peasey. Kind of silly, not learning anything truly.
OR.
The opposite. Professors who consider for a "light" homework assignment papers that end up being 15-20 PAGES!!
Three page directions for said easy homework, resulting in students focusing so much on what is required that again, not much learned.
Kooky
OR.
The opposite. Professors who consider for a "light" homework assignment papers that end up being 15-20 PAGES!!
Three page directions for said easy homework, resulting in students focusing so much on what is required that again, not much learned.
Kooky
Saturday, March 3, 2012
It's not me, it's you
Anyone who knows me knows I have issues with feeling loved or worthy. I doubt that I have very many "true" friends. People always say oh hush, you are being silly, you have lots of friends.
But really? When do I see them? Some of this may and likely is due to people as they get older, having lives that require more of their time and atention. But you also make time in your life for the things that are important right?
When I was in the 6th grade, I threw a Valentines's day party. I had Phil Collins and Shelia E records ready, M&M's and soda all laid out. NOBODY came. Nobody. It may have scarred me for lifed.
So I have this friend. I had such high hopes for where our relationship would go. I seriously love this person, but everything is a constant bicker match. And honestly I never feel like they truly want me around. They always say I am welcome anytime, that I am too sensitive and that they aren't one to "plan out anything" but I am not one to invite myself over. It seems this person does lots without me when we are geographically very close. It makes me sad. Then to top it off, when we are together they either seem indifferent to my feelings or they seem to challenge everything I say, opinion or fact. My therapist says that some people show they are about somebody else who is experiencing emotional shit by appearing indifferent as they don't want to see their loved ones hurt. Maybe, I find I do that same exact thing.
It just hurts when you truly feel someone is family, you do tons of shit for them and with them but you are the only one (it feels) picking up the phone. Sometimes I feel like I have a boyfriend who will hang out with me if I do the calling and they have nothing better to do.
Likely not fact, but how I feel.
But I tend to always be in friendships that are onsided, or unhealthy or insane. I guess one more extension of the bullshit I carryover from my childhood.
Knowing where it comes from doesn't fix it. Only I can fix it. But I am lonely.
Really lonely.
I know it sounds dramatic, I know others have it worse than me. But I am terribly, totally lonely.
But really? When do I see them? Some of this may and likely is due to people as they get older, having lives that require more of their time and atention. But you also make time in your life for the things that are important right?
When I was in the 6th grade, I threw a Valentines's day party. I had Phil Collins and Shelia E records ready, M&M's and soda all laid out. NOBODY came. Nobody. It may have scarred me for lifed.
So I have this friend. I had such high hopes for where our relationship would go. I seriously love this person, but everything is a constant bicker match. And honestly I never feel like they truly want me around. They always say I am welcome anytime, that I am too sensitive and that they aren't one to "plan out anything" but I am not one to invite myself over. It seems this person does lots without me when we are geographically very close. It makes me sad. Then to top it off, when we are together they either seem indifferent to my feelings or they seem to challenge everything I say, opinion or fact. My therapist says that some people show they are about somebody else who is experiencing emotional shit by appearing indifferent as they don't want to see their loved ones hurt. Maybe, I find I do that same exact thing.
It just hurts when you truly feel someone is family, you do tons of shit for them and with them but you are the only one (it feels) picking up the phone. Sometimes I feel like I have a boyfriend who will hang out with me if I do the calling and they have nothing better to do.
Likely not fact, but how I feel.
But I tend to always be in friendships that are onsided, or unhealthy or insane. I guess one more extension of the bullshit I carryover from my childhood.
Knowing where it comes from doesn't fix it. Only I can fix it. But I am lonely.
Really lonely.
I know it sounds dramatic, I know others have it worse than me. But I am terribly, totally lonely.
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