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Friday, May 20, 2011


First, let me start by saying, I get it, I know it.  I know that I have three beautiful, healthy children.  I don't need to be reminded, I didn't forget, or not realize that on my own.  For the record, just as there are things you are not supposed to say to those who have lost a child, the same should be noted for those who are told they should consider themselves done.  Especially when they feel they are not.  When their heart tells them, they are not.

**(A note here, I am not sure that sounded the way I wanted it to.  What I meant is that sometimes people say stupid things in tough situations.  A miscarriage was one of those situations I was thinking of.  Too many times I have heard the wrong words used to console someone trying to make sense of a loss.)

I am so tired of keeping my mouth shut.  As if I have no right.  Because, honestly, when things as the above are said, that's what it feels like.  I am being told I have no right to be sad that I will not be pregnant, with child, expecting, due on..., again.  Simply because I already have three gorgeous babies.  Really?  Is it not supposed to hurt?  Because it does.  Badly.  I just saw a picture of someone holding a tiny little one.  I unexpectedly teared up.  And in the next moment, I found myself stuffing those feelings down.  Reminding myself that I shouldn't feel sad.  Why?

Once again, I know that I am not the only one out there with these feelings.  And I am so aware of the hardships others have when it comes to this issue.  I am not, for one moment, trying to take away from those heartbreaking truths.  Not at all.  I have to acknowledge these feelings I have.  Because it really has been tearing me up inside.  I can't pretend it isn't.

Our littlest one lays beside me in our bed and it is all I can do not to squeeze him too tightly.  His soft cheeks make me smile and his tiny features make me melt.  I think of our two oldest and remember how quickly they grew from this stage to where they are now.  They still love to snuggle up.  It's then that I really see how much they have grown.  Then the sadness washes over me as I recall the words from a recent doctor's appointment.  I know that soon, Alec will be grown up too.  I am not done...

There are internal struggles that I will not even get into that I am sure contribute to these feelings.  There is guilt. I feel like I wasted so much time terrified of the kind of parent I would be that I missed really enjoying it.  My first two are 18 months apart.  So the way I danced through parenthood in the first years were very much the same for them.  It has been very different for Alec.  I no longer worry about my anger getting the best of me. I has such fears of acting out, instead of acting like a loving, caring, responsible parent.  I am more confident and relaxed.  I am comfortable in this role. I don't think I second guess myself any more than any other good parent would.  I love this mommy thing.  I still make mistakes, but I am a good parent.

I do enjoy my moments with my children.  I still lay my head down each night and reflect on the day and wonder what I could have/should have done to make the most of the day.  And I make a plan for the next day.  Most times, those plans fall through in the chaos of the morning and we fall into our normal routines.  It's really not all that bad. Just not as glorious as I had envisioned.  Once, I described what an ideal day spent with my children would be.  I pictured us with a picnic basket running through a field of daisies, laughing while the sun shone down on us.  My girlfriend quickly replied, "I think you've just described a Summer's Eve commercial!".  OK, so it did sound that way.  And our picnics, never go that smoothly.  Someone falls in the mud, dogs steals a sandwich and then there is the inevitable boo-boo.  But in the end, it's all good.

I just want more.  I want more time.  I want more little to grow big. It has taken me so long to feel this good about something I've done.  Why does it have to end here?  This is not a why me thing.  I know someone is reading this and gets it.  I am just not done.

In the end, we are entitled to our feelings.  I would never think of dismissing someone else's hurt.  And I am sure that there are well meaning individuals out there who believe that they aren't.  It happens all the time.  Sometimes, there are no words and most of these times, none are expected.  But understanding is always appreciated.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011


I am so absolutely thankful for facebook.  What started as an e-mail invitation from my brother-in-law, has turned into a daily ritual.  I have to wonder what life would have been like over the past two years if it weren't for facebook. 

I am a very social person.  I love to be around people.  The catch is, I love to be around people I am familiar with.  I have learned that you can be sociable and self-conscious all at the same time.  I want to talk with you, but what is it that you are really  thinking about me?  If we already have an established relationship, those thoughts never cross my mind.  For the most part, I relate very easily to most people and can slip comfortably into a conversation.  If I at all sense that there is a lack of sincerity, I have no desire to connect. 

For various reasons after high school, the number one reason being weight gain, I avoided people.  Chances are, if I were out shopping, yeah, I saw you there.  Then I hauled ass to another isle or pretended not to see you.  I was so ashamed of myself and decided that you would be ashamed of me as well.  So I avoided it.  What a horrible feeling and way to rob myself of interacting.

This is where facebook became a wonderful tool.  I reluctantly signed on and quickly became addicted.  It was too much fun to see where everyone was, what they looked liked and be invited to peek into their world, as they want you to see it.  Surprisingly, walls were coming down.  We all have so much to be proud of.  And because we all want to make the best impression, all of our best achievements, we put put out there first.  Our marriages, our children, jobs, our happy thoughts.  I found it very uplifting.  After years of hiding (beyond my comfort level), I was able to see what is was that I had achieved.  I had very little to be ashamed of and so much to be proud of.  I can only hope that many experienced this same feeling.

Beyond that, there are the connections.  Unbelievably incredible connections.  High school friends, family, old acquaintances.  I am more connected to some of my family than I have ever been in my life.  Ever.  I have a window into my cousin's life in Florida, my sister in Virginia Beach, family in Canada,a "cousin" in Tonawanda, and my other sister just a couple towns over. Even with my husbands family, who are spread out all over (until recently, London too!).  Pictures and videos are shared and it is so wonderful.  It's great to see them at family functions and not feel distance.  Surprisingly, we have even more to talk about when we see each other.

Then there are the friendships that have been strengthened, reunited and discovered.  There have been many.  Several have been with people I didn't really spend too much time with in high school , but we shared a class or two, maybe lunch.  Sometimes I can't even remember where it was that we "knew" each other from.  I just know that we did more than simply pass each other by.  Honestly, most of my high school social time was spent with a boyfriend.  We all know what happens then. I didn't have much time after school for social activities, so any time I was afforded, was spent on the boyfriend.  Leaving virtually no time for my girlfriends or to discover new friends.  So when some friend requests would come in, I would have to think a moment to put the name with the face.  By the way, should the high school boyfriend be reading this, I have no regrets other than wishing I had more time!

I have been able to read so much of what is happening with everybody.  And I am always so encouraged by the amount of support that is out there for one another.  There have been  marriages, births, divorces, graduations, losses, achievements, bad mommy days, hysterical children's quotes and funny moments in life.  When flipping through the channels and we come across something like TMZ, I find that I have no idea who most of the "stars" are.  But I know my FB peeps!  I'd much rather read about them.  They are real.

Who knew that a social network could encourage such personal healing as well as wonderful relationships?  It has certainly made the past couple of years a whole lot easier for me.  I no longer turn away when I see a familiar face.  Often, while shopping, I run into someone and we stand there and talk for a good amount of time.  This would never have happened before facebook.  My walls are down.  If you are a "friend", you know everything there is to know. I have nothing to hide and I don't really worry about what you are thinking.  It is what it is.

There are some that are opposed to this social networking thing.  I guess then all I can say is that, maybe it's just not for them. Funny thing is, the few that I have encountered that feel this way, have pretty good reasons.  One, cannot express their feelings because they are not allowed to.  Another, is just too insecure and angry at the world.  These are definitely not good candidates. There are those who misuse facebook.  It is unfortunate and from what I understand, they are from a younger generation.  Not to say that there those that are older and should know better that are guilty of the same. 

My experience has been great.  Each day, I look forward to reading what everyone is up to. I enjoy the interaction.  And I am so elated to be able to be in touch with so many great people!

Monday, May 16, 2011


There is the song by Bruno Mars, Just the Way You Are.  Whenever I hear this I think of my children, more specifically, my daughter.  The words are so perfect.  They are everything I want her to know I feel about her and more importantly believe about herself.  And someday, I hope she chooses someone who feels the same.  "When I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change.  Girl, you're amazing.  Just the way you are. "

This is played often in our car.  A very thoughtful friend made a CD mix for me and it's on there.  Like I said, I associate it with my children. Until I was told it reminded someone of me.  What every girl should hear.  This, from the man who's contribution for the family sing-a-long to Lady Gaga's Poker Face is 'mum mum mum mah'.  'Cause that's all he can remember or understand. So now, when I hear, 'Just the Way You Are', it is hard for me not to tear up a bit.  Or smile.

It's those moments in life that make me wonder what I have done to deserve any of it.  I believe those are healthy feelings.  Of course we all deserve good things, however, we should never expect them, not always.  I admit, I happen to fall on the side of not really believing I deserve very much.  I do understand how unhealthy that can be. 

This weekend was very peaceful.  For once, we weren't running all over the place and because the weather was so wet, there wasn't much we could accomplish outside.  This afforded us a lazy Sunday where we didn't have any place to be until 5 in the afternoon.  The kids were wonderful as well.  Two days in a row, they woke and played together for hours, get this, with NO fighting.  Ahhhhhh. We were able to lay in bed in that half slumber, half aware state.  I would momentarily panic thinking someone would be arriving soon and then relax as I remembered it was Sunday.  It was so peaceful.  When the silence broke, it was by Jim's voice.  I don't know what brought it about but he was saying the most loving, kind and thoughtful things.  I thought to myself, Don't move.  Don't speak.  Stay still.  I was facing away from him and part of me wondered if he was truly awake.  The other part of me was afraid to move one way or the other for fear that he would stop talking.  Completely ridiculous, I know.  It was everything every partner should take the time to say to another.  He left me completely speechless.  The cherry on top, was our children running into our room for the morning snuggles.  I never got to return my feelings.  It didn't matter.

I have a drawer and a box filled with the most amazing letters, cards, poems and notes.  It seems like a lifetime ago when I received these. Most of these are from our pre-children days.  Pre-stress, money worries, house responsibility, days.  And there are days when I would tell you it seems like a different man wrote them. We don't always see eye-to-eye.  I get frustrated with the way he gets frustrated with the kids.  He drives me crazy when he can't see the pile of clothes on the floor on his side of the bed.  I am pretty darn sure he has a list for me too!  Every year and with every stage of life we find new difficulties as we loose sight and unknowingly say good-bye to the old.  And so far,  we have conquered most all of them.  It's not perfect and it never will be.  But it's good.  Real good.

This is what I want for Emily and my boys.  I am so proud of that.  I am proud to be in a relationship that I want for my children to someday have.  It's not perfect.  But, it's not dysfunctional either.  It's perfectly functional.  Which, to me, means that when and where there is trouble, it can be fixed.  It may take time.  It should take time. There is love, tears and lots of humour and laughter.  There is forgiveness.  They see it all.

The letters no longer come as frequently as they used to.  I often excuse the cards too.  And he forgets my birthday sometimes.  We are busy.  But those times, like this Sunday, when he chooses to express himself and say the things that, deep down, I already know, I remember the man he always has been.  And this, I know, is far more than I deserve or could have ever expected.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Happiness is...Being a Mommy

That was what my favorite mug said.  It came from my Great Aunt and has since been lost when an ignorant "friend" at the time walked out the door with it and never brought it back.  My husband and I searched for another just like it, but never found one.  It is the absolute most truest thing I have ever read!

I was terrified to be a mommy.  I was afraid I wouldn't feel like a mother should.  My head was filled with all sorts of scenarios.  What if my child doesn't really love me?  When will they stop?  What if I don't love them? Will they hate me?  At what point does all this start?  I wasn't kidding when I said I was terrified.  This went on for a good four years.  And then I began to crumble.  I found myself creeping into their room at night, picking them out of a sound sleep and silently sobbing.  I felt like I couldn't love them enough and that feeling that they would someday stop loving me crept closer and closer to my head and heart every day.  They never woke.  My beautiful babies slept silently in my arms as I sobbed uncontrollably.  I would eventually lay them down and watch over them.  Listen to their tiny breaths and place my finger close to their tiny hands hoping they would wrap those tiny, soft fingers around mine.  Almost every time, they did.  When my tears were dry and I could feel the corners of my mouth turn up, I would return to my own bed exhausted with only the hiccups of the sobs remaining.

Eventually, with some understanding of where these fears were all coming from, this odd behavior stopped.  I became more comfortable in my role as a mother.  The fears faded and I started to really enjoy being their mom. 

Today, there is no question.  I was meant to be their mother.  I love them with every bit of who I am.  I cannot imagine feeling any differently.  And each day, their expressions of love for me solidify our eternal bond.  They will always love me.  It is the purest love I have ever experienced.  And I will always love them, no matter what...ever!

Although I know that gifts are being prepared, I want them to know that everyday they present me with the greatest gifts I could ever ask for.  Emily with those big blue eyes and the kindness she gives in her most private moments.  I have become so proud as she steps beyond her comfort zone time and time again. I love that she still seeks me out to snuggle and nuzzle.  Ethan.  What can I say.  When I hear the expression 'wears his heart on his sleeve', I think of him.  I am not even sure I understood what the expression really meant until Ethan.  His smile and ability to make me laugh as well as his compassion for others is unbelievable.  Alec.  Even at four, he has shown so much of the little person he is to become.  He is considerate of others, smart in ways I'd never expect someone to be at this point in life.  He is the family's Baby Boy.  I am proud of them all.

To my husband and three beautiful bundles of joy ~Thank you for making me a Mommy.  Thank you for all the happiness, love, hugs & kisses a mama could ever ask for.  Thank you for making me the person I was to become all this time.  I love you all...

Who needs a stinkin' mug when you've got all this?

Happy Mother's Day Everyone!!  Wishing you many Kisses, Snuggles and Nuzzles!


More than a year ago I decided to write about life in a "big girl" body.  Since then I have learned so much.  Even though I have made zilch progress in the weight loss department I feel much better about who I am.  The first feel good lesson was when I revealed my weight. I swear, there should have been an instant show of loss on the scale right there.

Yesterday I was reminded of this lesson.  I was completely thrilled and surprised when two wonderful friends stopped by.  I was so giddy with excitement and happy to have them here.  I couldn't get over the idea that they were here, for me.

The past few weeks have held several little moments like this.  A call from an Uncle, just to check in.  A card of encouragement from a dear friend after I vented to her about the continuous, stupid behavior of a "family" member.  A breakfast invitation from a neighbor, just because.  Flowers picked by my children (from the neighbors yard!) and handed to me with smiles and excitement.  A little gift, a hug and those words that make me tear up whenever I hear them, "I love you" from another friend.  An email from a special "sister" wanting to help me obtain my goals.

All this.  And until yesterday, I now realize I really did not have a very high opinion of myself.  I released myself from the worry of what everyone thought of me, my size, when I revealed my weight all that time ago.  Or so I thought.  I am not sure there was anybody judging me as hard as I was myself.  (I hear you, Tracie)

I know what I am good at, what I excel at.  I am there, if it is at all possible, for most anything.  I will give 100% when you need me too, and even if you don't.  If you are doubting yourself, I want to remind you why you shouldn't.  I just want everyone to be happy.  I want to help where I can.  And I strongly believe that we should all help each other.

Ask me if I felt I was worthy of receiving any of the above.  I would have said no.  And I really felt this way.  I don't know why, maybe I doesn't matter.  I just know that it is a waste not to bask in the warmth of such acts of love and friendship. It's actually a slap in the face to reject it.  Though I never believed I was rejecting it, just not deserving at all.  I cannot tell you how hard it is for me to say that I am deserving of any of this.  There is such a natural reaction of shame in me, if for one moment I let myself believe I am worthy.  Again, I can't explain.

That's just the tip of the iceberg.  There are other feelings that I am sure will surface at some point.  That is for another time, as they do, I guess.  Back to yesterday.

Back to my two wonderful friends who took time out of their day to bring flowers and sunshine my way.  Both are beautiful.  And even though I have been well aware of the struggle and success one of them have had with weight, she sat across from me and later that night, I realized, I never saw her like "that".  Like what I think everyone sees me.  Granted, she is MUCH smaller and closer to her goal weight than I am.  For a moment we talked about "going out" and I commented on how, if I was single and looked like this, I didn't think I could do the bar thing.  In my head I was playing over and over again what it would be like.  Me sitting at the bar.  Would my ass even fit on the bar stool?  Or will it hang over?  Yeah.  I see the guys coming in and scanning right over me.  The funny part is, I know, as a fat person, you can be HUGE and invisible at the same time.  I get it, I am not worthy of a glance...I don't want to look either.  You are excused.  There are times I truly feel like the white elephant in the room.  She's here, she's fat.  Let's just pretend we don't see her.  What happened to her?  How did she let herself get like that?  Yep.  That's what's going on in that head of mine.  Crazy, huh?

So how do I deal with it?  Depending on the mood I am in, I crack the first joke.  This year, as if to announce that I knew what everyone was thinking, I dressed up as Miss Piggy for Halloween.  I was comfortable, until someone (thinking it was funny) kept squealing like a pig at me.  Over and over again.  I laughed.  Over and over again.  And died a little inside each time.  I mean, I was making fun of myself.  And it truly was an expression of how I really felt.  Was his?  I am sure it was not.  But when insecurities get the best of you...

And that is what it is like.  Dying a little inside all the while trying to keep that smile up.  Like there is nothing wrong.  Right.
I saw her.  For who she was.  For what I knew of her.  A mother and a great friend.  I didn't see a number that I was trying to imagine on a scale.  I didn't mock her or laugh at her in my head.  I didn't hate her.  In fact, even knowing how hard she had been working on her goals...size didn't occur to me.  She was just beautiful.  I admired her hair and her eyes.  And if anything else occurred to me, it wasn't notable.

With that, I learned; I am a bigger person than all this fat.  What you see isn't always what you get.  I so know why I have been blessed with all everyone has done.  I am worthy.

***You guys are not allowed to cry this time!  Well, you can if you want.  And remember...I am fine!  I am more than happy to share it all with you <3

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

What Memories are Made Of

This morning while the coffee maker gurgled and brewed it's sweet nectar, a feeling of comfort came over me.  There was a close call.  Earlier, I had opened the coffee canister to find it nearly empty.  Not enough for a full pot.  And I stink at making any less.  I didn't want to risk the grounds.  Luckily, there was more downstairs.  Yes!

My parents were never really coffee drinkers.  My dad would make a pot in the morning and he and my mother would fill their travel mugs and take them to work.  My Grandparents were huge coffee drinkers.  There was always the smell of a pot brewing in the air (along with the scent of my Granddad's pipe...I know it's not healthy, but, oh, how that scent will stop me dead in my tracks as I suck in every bit if its sweetness.  As if I could sniff my Grandad back to life).  It was on their breath.  It was part of them.  When I think about my Grandparents,  I see them sitting at the kitchen table with coffee mugs, yellow legal pads and pencils scattered on the table.  They were always deep in thought, working on and discussing things.  Usually an Uncle was involved as well.  They were involved in their own world, unaware that they were making wonderful memories for me. 

Gram's coffee maker was a Mr. Coffee.  I have a Kitchenaid.  Hers was white and mine is black. The gurgle is the same.  So is the smell.  For a moment this morning, a gurgle threw me back into my Grandparents house, more specifically, Gram's kitchen.  What a mixture of feelings.  Warmth.  Happiness. And then a wave of sadness as I "come back" and know that it was just a memory.

When I was moving into my first house, all I dreamed about was brewing my first pot of coffee.  I wanted that glorious scent to fill the air.  Make it smell like "home".  I wasn't even a coffee drinker.  In fact, it hasn't been until the past 4 years or so that I have come to really enjoy and become dependant on those little black beans.  I drink mine with a little milk.  Just like Gram. No sweeteners.  Sometimes, I switch it up with some flavored creamer.  That is different from Gram, because, if she even detected sugar of any type in hers, she very well may have spit it out!  She actually threatened that she would.

It just now occurred to me something else I did this past week.  When you opened my Gram's fridge, there was always a little Tupperware container that was filled with milk.  This was for coffee.  It was always there. I now sometimes have trouble lifting the gallon containers of milk, especially when they are halfway or more full.  And then there is the pouring.  I remembered Gram's milk container.  I searched out ebay, found one and for five dollars, got one.  It had to be the EXACT, shape, color and type.  The only difference is that hers was missing the little lid that covered the pour spout.  If I wasn't such a germ, "ick" person, I would leave the lid off too. Right now, the container is soaking in baking soda and water (something else Gram taught me) to be sure all scents (though it was very clean when I received it) stay out of my milk.  I was so excited to find this.  When it arrived, another wave of comfort came over me.

I am more of a memory person.  I try not to place too much value in "things".  There are people who collect and keep things, either because they believe it's the best way for them to hold on to memories or so others can't have them (the things).  Eventually, if they are not careful, they wind up with a house full of stuff.  What was intended for a memory, is now so buried and lost amongst all that stuff, it almost becomes disrespectful to that memory.  It really is sad.  I've also witnessed senseless arguing and hoarding over things.  I don't get it. Great.  You have it and so-and-so doesn't.  So what?  And where is it?  Still in a box?  Buried in the basement or garage?  Nice.  Good for you.  I'll keep my memories, thank you. I'm not saying that I don't keep things either, but I try to make sure that the "things" I do keep are displayed or used.  I would rather someone else have it than keep it in a box or thrown around somewhere. I was not always like this.  I used to like to keep things too, for memories.  Until I witnessed some childish behavoirs.  I decided I never wanted to be like that.  I understood in that moment what was really important.  It's what you keep in your head and heart.

All this, from the gurgle of the coffee pot.  I wonder what my children will remember.  I wonder what sound, sight, smell will one day make them pause and drink in a sweet memory.  More importantly, what will make them smile when that memory surprises them and gives it's instant warmth?  I may never know.  I can only hope there are many.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Time for a Change

I think it is time for me to regroup, rethink and really commit.  I have been so focused and frustrated about what I cannot do.  I've told myself that if I can't proceed on this journey the way I originally intended to, I can't succeed.  That is just not true.  Granted, I am going to have to understand and accept that things are going to move much slower than I'd like.  I am having a hard time seeing what the problem is with moving forward regardless.  One step at a time.  Step one...Time to really start eating right.

I tackle things with very little fear.  I know that there has to be a way and I am usually very determined to find out how.  I don't give up.  Short of toilet/dirty water plumbing issues, I can, for the most part get it done.  Get it fixed.  Make it right.  Don't tell me I can't!  I will do my best to prove you wrong if I have to. And I am not afraid to ask for help.  I said help.  Don't do it for me.  That's not how I roll.

So why is it so hard for me to work on, well, me?  Where is my passion and determination when it comes to my well-being, my true happiness?  Many of us do this.  Mom's do this.  Yes Girls do this.  People know who I am talking about.  Generally, the people out there making everyone else happy and comfortable.  Sometimes they are the ones who wear the biggest smiles.  You would never, ever incredibly unhappy they really are.  Also sometimes completely resentful.  And rightfully so.  Because, as much as there are people out there who appreciate all you do, there are many out there who know you'll do all you can do and more.  They are the ones to watch out for.  I have to say, after the past couple of years, I have done a fantastic job of identifying these types and weeding them out as much as I can.  Even without them, life is demanding.  Some things you can count on and there are many that you cannot.

Really, when I think about the roadblocks I put in my own way, I don't understand why.  Right now, the thought of putting together a new menu plan for myself and my family seems daunting. Planning it, shopping for, etc.  I'm all for it, until I have to do it.  Why?  If the lawn mower broke, I'd dig in and fix it.  What's that you say?  That outlet is not working?  I'm on it.  So why can't I apply this enthusiastic, accomplish anything attitude towards myself?  I honestly don't know why.  I've wondered if it is because the reward does not come quick enough.  Which could make this all the harder for me as I am not (currently) in a position to be very active for weight loss purposes.  All my reward will have to come slowly and from eating properly and frequently.  It is scary for me to think how quickly or slowly the scale will reflect the changes I am trying to commit to and how I will be motivated one way or the other.

I want to be healthier, I want to be happier and I completely understand that taking the weight off will benefit me in many ways.  It won't make the RA go away, but it will make it easier to deal with.  And it is scary, sometimes most times, to feel how hard my heart is working.  How it palpitates.  I am 37 years old.  Thirty-seven!  I don't want to see 40, or 40 to see me in this state.

I have made commitments here before.  Not nearly as many times as I have to myself, I promise you that.  I don't want to fail at this.  I am going to have to find a menu plan.  I think I will dedicate the rest of this week to doing just that.  The weekend will be for shopping.  I really do not want to start on a Monday.  Perhaps Sunday?  I am completely willing to try any suggestions that anyone may have.  I will also, for the rest of this week, get back to drinking MORE water.  I average only 2-3 glasses currently.  Yeah, menu and water.  That will be a great start.  Damn menu.

I am about to tackle my hardest project yet.  Let's see how this turns out...

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference. 

--Reinhold Niebuhr

Monday, May 2, 2011

20 Minutes

Yesterday I sat down and wrote.  It was a 20 minute expression that poured from my heart and mind through my fingertips.  I wanted to share another experience I had in hopes that I would be able to touch someone else and pull them further from that isolating world.  That lonely, hurtful place where so many go when they are not happy with who they are or where they are in life.  The whole reason I started this.  To be honest about what being fat, overweight, obese, large, chubby, etc really feels like.  To expose the ugly truth and strip the power from the numbers on the scale and clothing tags.  Put it out there.  I did this with out a single tear.  Because I thought I was doing this for someone else. Even though it was about me, I had removed myself for those 20 minutes while I wrote.  Convinced that someone out there would and could relate.

And then many of you responded.  Quickly.  I am so proud.  To know you all.  To be able to call you my friends.  I never expected...  I had convinced myself that it wasn't about me.  I know that sounds crazy.  I had to walk away.  But that didn't stop the tears.  I am not sure what touched me more, the words, lyrics or the idea that so many were there with their arms wide open, ready to embrace or cradle another they believed was falling.  I admit, I also felt a tremendous amount of guilt.  I never intended that post to initiate such a response.  But I also understand, after reading and re-reading it and connecting to it and the feelings that inspired the words, your responses.  I am so touched.

I am also alright.  I really am.  It is so important to me to keep honest about all these feelings and truths about where I am at.  There is a frustration because, right now, I am somewhat limited as to what I can accomplish.  That doesn't mean there is nothing that I can do and I have to keep that in mind.  That may be the new plan.  Moving(as much as I would like) is not an option, for now, but I have to eat.  That I can fix.

I also get frustrated because I never want this to be a place for me to complain.  I want to be honest about what is happening.  Finding the balance between informing, sharing and complaining can be difficult.  Which is why there is very little activity at times.  I would much rather be informative and supportive and I need to be in the right place to offer such.  By the time I sit to write, I have usually found peace with where I am at.  I am able to collect myself and share it.  I truly am alright...I promise.

I cannot end this without commenting on the current events.  Last nights announcement from President Obama that Usama Bin Laden has been killed left me with some conflicting feelings.  This was an awful human.  Period.  I am not one who is comfortable in deciding who deserves life and who does not.  In my heart, I believe this man got what he deserved.  Done.  Over.  No trial needed.  He had his time on this earth and used it for evil.  He inspired hate and only in his death, do I get satisfaction of experiencing and burying all that he inspired.  I waste no more time on him.  I know that many souls are at rest today. 

You are all amazing...

Sunday, May 1, 2011

The Not So Pretty Picture

I hesitate to write this because I know how it is going to sound.  Pitiful. I also feel that I need to put it out there knowing that I am not the first person to feel this way. 

Yesterday there was a function we were to go to.  I knew well in advance what I would be wearing and had accepted that it would have to be good enough.  Shopping is not an option right now.  It is just too depressing.  My whole body has bloated to a most uncomfortable size.  I now weigh in at 276.  I grab a size 24 off the rack now and refuse to try it on.  I know it fits and most likely, I could go down a size, but I don't want to be bothered.  I have never been this large.  Ever.

My hair even cooperated.  Seems increasing the folic acid by 3x the original prescribed dose has brought my old hair back, almost.  The curls were present and they just fell into place.  Overall, getting ready was not too stressful.  I had accepted that I was fat and would dress it to the best of my ability.  My face (Prednoface) is round and full as a result of the steroids, but still managed to put a smile on it and accept it. Wearing my wedding ring isn't a possibility with my sausage fingers, so I wore some obnoxious bling instead.  I took a final look in the mirror and thought, "Not bad."  I felt pretty.  Even better, I was comfortable.

Off we went.  I was in a room with great friends and people and I wasn't a bit self-conscience.  I was surrounded with people who accepted me no matter what.  It's a fantastic feeling.  I felt so good that I decided that when we returned home, there should be a picture.  With the kids.  AND ME!  When you are fat, the camera is not your friend.  But I was feeling pretty.

Wrong decision.  Several flashes and smiles later, I look at the results.  Wow.  I no longer felt pretty.  I barely even recognize myself.  I kept looking at the pictures and tried to compare them with what I had seen in the mirror earlier.  Was I blind?  Fooling myself?  Oh.  My.  God.  What have I done?  Shame.  Shame.  Shame.  My poor children.  My poor husband.

Generally, I am not one to give up.  I honestly don't know if I can see a way out of this.  This past week has been a down week.  The warm weather really took a toll on my body.  Meds have been changed and while I didn't think I would feel any differently, I do.  Last week I had decided that I would walk up the driveway and up the road only as far as I could, pushing a couple more steps each day.  Come Tuesday, when I stood, the floor at my feet seemed to be a great resting spot for my body.  And the fear set in that I was in for a repeat of last summer.  Something is going on, again, and it's back to finding out what.  At least there is a base knowledge at this point.  Last year, they had nothing.

I know about the one day at a time thing.  I feel I am too overwhelmed right now.  I have so much weight to loose and we all know that if you can't move, you can't least not as productively as I need to keep motivated.  I am so discouraged and feel so ugly.

Most likely, if you were to run into me, you would never even know how much I am disliking myself these days.  I never want to be that person.  But it is there, all inside.  I know it is for many.  Maybe not for the same reasons, but it is there.  I know that I will get over this.  My hope is that it is with some new insight and more fight.  Right now, I just don't know.

I do know that the answer is to NOT sit here and wallow in misery.  I know that I have to address these feelings and then release them.  I know that I need a plan...I always need a plan!  I know that this is part of my problem.  I seem to be caught in this loop and I am afraid I wont find my way out.  I wish someone could just point me in the right direction and give me a smack in the a$$  to start me on my way.  I need a cheerleader, a director.  When I have rough weeks or days (physical, not emotional), it can really throw me for a loop.  Getting back up on that horse is becoming quite exhausting.  Maybe if I just run along side, I can lose some weight!  Could that be the answer? 

Just so we are not think that I lay here and give in to anything.  I haven't and I wont.  But I have to admit that this is terribly hard.  If you are reading this and picturing me sitting here depressed and eating ice cream, you are sorely mistaken( I don't even like ice cream!).  I am admitting my pain, my heartache, my struggles because I feel that it is important to do so.  And if you know me, really know me, you know that I am not taking this sitting down.  I get a little lost.  My lost means not making myself a priority.  That is where I am at now.  I don't have all the answers, but I am not about to sit here and wait for them to fall into my lap...especially because you won't find me sitting still often enough!  I just want to feel pretty again.  Like I did yesterday.  Before the pictures...