Still 318

Still 318.

Well, technically 317.8 but I think that's cause I pooped right before I weighed myself.

I can't decide how to feel about this.

One day I'm pissed that I weigh so much. I get mad at myself, at the fact that ice cream exists, my genes, anything. I torture myself with thoughts about what I might look like if I wasn't so big. I think about other people that have amazing weight loss stories and I envy them. I hate that my clothes don't fit, that I have to look for things with more than one X on the label and that ordering online is the only place I can find clothes without fucking sequins on them.

I think about how I look when I'm out and about with other people that are smaller than me. Do I look like a freak? A giantess of lard? Does it even matter that I showered and at least tried to look decent? Am I just destined to be the fat girl stereotype? What must others think about me?

Other days I don't care. I don't mean I'm apathetic, although I have those days too. I mean I like myself, and I like how I look and I have ice cream for dinner without beating myself up about it. I look at people with amazing weight loss stories and think, 'good for them,' instead of wishing I was in their shoes. I feel good in the clothes I have on and even smile at my reflection in the mirror as I get dressed. I don't even look at the labels.

I have fun when I'm out with my friends. I laugh and joke and enjoy myself. I don't care what others think about me because I know it ultimately doesn't matter. I feel good on those days.

I argue with myself.

If you would lose weight, you'd feel so much better!
If you ate that ice cream/toast/pasta, it would taste amazing and why not enjoy food?

If you were smaller, you'd have more energy!
If you didn't take that hike/ski trip/other random sporty activity it would be fine because you sincerely like curling up in your chair with a book over those things anyway.

If you didn't weigh so much you'd be able to find more of a selection in the clothing department!
If you give a shit. People so don't care about what you're wearing. You know that.

I just want to be ok with who I am one hundred percent.

I like my insides, a lot actually. After years of ongoing support, kindness and encouragement from friends and family, I am out of the darkness that haunted me predominantly in my 20s. I know and believe I'm kind, caring, funny and honest. I know that people trust me and that I'm loved.

The outsides...well...sometimes, like I said, I'm ok with them. But I'd say it's at a 50/50% right now on how I'm going to feel about my appearance on any given day. Not gonna lie, hormones play a part. If my period is close, I might change my clothes 8 times before leaving the house. And I usually will end up in my standard uniform of a black v-neck and jeans.

Still 318 and every day I feel different about it. Maybe that's ok. I don't know. I can't decide.

Being an Empath

So quickly things can change.

I've been learning more about what it means to be an empath and it kind of sucks.

You feel fucking everything. When someone you care for hurts, you hurt too. If they are angry, sometimes you get angry too. It's a weird thing to be-empathetic.

I'm not always a fan.

Empathy: the psychological identification with or vicarious  experiencing of the feelings, thoughts, or attitude of another

Or....

Feeling everything about everyone all at the same time as 
feeling your own feelings. 


I sometimes wish I didn't feel things so strongly. It would be so much easier if I could just be logical for a day. If I could ignore all the parts inside of me that are begging to cry or curl up on the corner of the couch and pretend I'm all alone. 

I don't even want to be around my cats when I get like this. I become so withdrawn and sad. I make myself watch cartoons and eat food-though the junk food seems easy enough to consume.  I go to bed early because I feel emotionally exhausted and then toss and turn all night. 

I don't have a reason to feel sad. I'm in a great relationship-truly, he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. There isn't anything wrong but it feels like everything is. 

I don't know if its because I'm extra empathetic or if I'm just conquering a dark spot. I don't know what it is but it sucks and I just kinda wish I could stop feeling it for a little while. 

I want to know what it's like to not feel this way all the time.

She Hulk

I'm annoyed. Irritated. Frustrated. Pissy. Sad.

I have a checklist that I go through before I finally admit I'm going through a bout of depression.

Are you PMSing?
Did you change something in your diet?
Have you been smoking too much pot?
What kind of stresses are you currently dealing with?
Is it the annual date of something tragic?

In other words, I try to find out what the fuck is wrong with me because even now, 20 years later, I refuse to accept that diagnosis. 'Patient shows severe Anxiety/Depression; Borderline Personality Disorder'

Hell of a label.

I know, don't limit myself to that. I'm more than my mental illness. (Christ. Even writing 'mental illness' pisses me off.) Still feels like a label.

I don't want it.

Today might just be a bad day I suppose. It started off pretty gnarly. I woke up around 3am, crying uncontrollably. I woke to my fella gently saying over and over that it was ok, that he was here and that brought comfort but it didn't make the dream fade.

I keep seeing bits of it flashing in my mind throughout my day.

I starting cleaning the house. I used elbow grease and five different cleansers to get rid of bathroom grime and bring distraction. I took out the garbage and straightened up the living room. I did normal things.

I went to take a shower and the faucet came off in my hand. I stood there, naked and sweaty from chores in summer heat and got pissed. A frustrating situation sure, but for a split second I wanted to rip the whole wall down.

I tried to fix it, couldn't and got irate just in time for my fella to come home for lunch. I took a few breaths, a shower and apologized for acting like She-Hulk.

After he went back to work I sat in my chair and cried. It wasn't like the sobbing that woke me this morning. These tears had no point but to escape and it brought me no relief.

I walked outside, took deep breaths under the trees and it did nothing. I didn't even water the yard today.

Today was no different than last Thursday.

I'm not PMSing.
I've done nothing different with my diet except eliminate Ben & Jerry's as a food group which I'm pretty sure is a good thing.
I actually cut back smoking pot. Wasn't doing anything for me-couldn't even relax me.
Money or lack thereof is always a stressor but it's not any worse than it has been for awhile now.
It's the middle of July and I can't think of anything that is the anniversary of something awful.

I feel irritated. I feel frustrated. Pissy. And sad. I'm not sleeping well and I don't care about anything.

I just have depression.

Texting with Dad

Dad is on Facebook. Last night he commented on a post I made recently regarding my distaste of those fucking yellow minions and wished we could just be over them already:

"No Sh--"
and then, "I hate sea lions."

Fair enough.

He probably misread 'minion' as 'sea lion' because beer. Kudos for being conscious of the swear even though I hardly care about such things. Especially from him. We have a joke that he tells people he doesn't know where my 'fucking mouth' came from.

It gets a giggle.

He also posted a response to a welcome back for my uncle (his brother) that has just come back to visit.

"Awe wonder!! Ain't it great ?  Love it. Keep on keeping on. Old people rule !"

Seeing his posts on Facebook amused me and reminded me why I admire him so. Clearly he's having a good time enjoying life, with or without beer and I love him for it. I sent him a text and below is the conversation we had.

"I love you dad!"

"Love you too kid!!
You are my kid you know."

"Oh thank god! I had been suspicious of the mailman for years!" (Sarcasm is also something I might have learned from him.)

"L. O. L. !!!!"  (I love that each letter is capitalized and separated with a period, emphasizing the laghter.)

"And you are very much my dad."

"I know that!! Love you."

"I love you too silly old man."

"Leon (his brother) is out he's been up 34 hours."

"Jesus! That's too much! Why?"

"Just having too much fun."

"That's a good reason I guess. :) "

"We do that shit."

"I know it. It's good for you"

"We had crab&cheese& walls walls sweets sandwich's. So now we're done. Love you good night"

"Sounds delicious? Rest well daddy. Love you too!"

Three minutes passes where I sit in my chair smiling at our exchange. The phone buzzes and it's dad once more.

"I meant Walla"

I know :)

No Talking

Why does our brain talk to us when we yearn for silence?

I just wanted to watch tv for a bit before I went to bed.

My brain decided to play an ugly 'what if' scenario instead.

What will happen when dad dies? 

I wouldn't know it had happened. Not right away. I'm sure someone would call me...but who? When? How long after?

How would he die? Accident? His heart? He's not sick like mom was-it could be anything.

Would they know which number is mine in his phone?

Who would I call first? How would I even begin to plan a funeral or wake or whatever it is that you're supposed to plan? He did everything for mom's service. I was too numb.

Who would I call to ask for advice? Who would rumble kind words to me when I needed to hear them most?

What would I do without him?

Would I be ok again? It took a long time after mom.

My brain made me look at the phone, again and again, waiting for it to glow with a call. I started checking it again and again, sure that it had just buzzed. The call about mom came early in the morning but you never know.

I know as I get older, he does too and for every moment I cherish with him, I anxiously let time go. We all end but the mere thought of dad not being there chills me.

We talk often and sometimes he sounds more tired than I'd like. If he coughs more than the cigarettes usually trigger, I imagine the worst.

Why? Why does my brain do this shit? I am realistic. I know anything could happen, at any time and that's about all I know. The only thing inevitable is change they say.

It's the severity of the 'what if' that bothers me so. I imagine everyone thinks about death at times. It's everyone's last chapter.

So vivid for me, this terrible thought. And all I wanted was to watch a little tv. But it stays. 

I know I could call him now, if I needed to. I could make sure he was snoring in his chair in front of a sports channel, but I'm almost sure he is. If he's not sleeping, he's hanging out with friends. He's drinking and laughing and having a good time being young at 73.

He's not worried that the phone will ring at any moment, devestating news on the other end. He's living his life and dammit, I must try harder to do that too.

He's taught me so many things. To live. To enjoy life and make the most of it. To do what makes you happy.

Don't worry so much, he'd say.

It feels like my brain is against me. It won't let me have peace. It shrieks at me with everything that might go wrong in a tidal wave of anxiety and it usually starts with thoughts of his death. It mixes in with memories of losing others I love. And it stays.

318

I'm putting the number out there.

318

That's my weight.

It's only a number.
It does not define me.
But.
It is too much.

I had my picture taken yesterday with a group of friends. It's happened before. I was showing it to my fella later and it occurred to me that while I was smiling and happy, I was a lot bigger than my friends. Even my head looked bigger and that weirded me out.

I threw away the stash of chocolates I had in the cupboard and when we went shopping, I got fruit instead of ice cream. Is going cold turkey on the sweets a bad thing? I don't think so. But it's scary.

Eating sweets is something I really like doing. I like the crunch of an M&M or the soft gooey middle of a brownie. I like the cold smooth texture of ice cream or the warm crumble of a cookie. I am a fan of sweets. My body is not.

I have low back pain. My feet and knees hurt. I have pain in my wrists and elbows, shoulders and hips. I don't run because it hurts. I don't jump or walk fast because it hurts. I snore and have digestive issues.  I am not particularly healthy. I have decent blood sugars at the moment but diabetes and heart disease were prominent in my mother. I am at high risk and have been diagnosed as 'borderline diabetic' before.

Why didn't I do something about it then? I don't know. I guess I didn't think it was that bad. Borderline is not actual I rationalized.

I can't do that to myself anymore.

I've never shared my weight before. It's a big fucking number and I'm not particularly stoked about it. So I gotta try and do something about it.

Last night, I lay in bed with my fella and believed him when he told me I was beautiful. I thought about the picture of me with the girls and of that number. And I promised myself to try.

Maybe if I have that number out there, out for others to see, I'll feel more likely to try and change it.

I don't want to change it because I feel like society hates the way I look or because Oprah thinks I can't wear a crop top. I don't want to change because I want to please someone else. I want to be healthy and live.

I've remembered what life can hold for me and I want to be around and run and jump and live the hell out of it.

318. Yes, it's a big number. But it is not ME.

First up, the sweets elimination. I will allow myself only one day per week of partaking in yummy things. Since my fella has this regimen (that he created for himself long ago) the chance of it being a bit easier to follow is high.

I've already cut back on carbohydrates because his diet calls for it* and that's been relatively easy. I still have toast in the morning with my coffee but I don't have to have it slathered with jam.

*I did NOT change my diet because he told me to, pressured me to or because he hid the bread. I recognize that it's not healthy to have carbs as the main source of food and consciously made the descision myself to cut them back. 

I'm not going to weigh myself freakishly often but enough to hold myself responsible. I have goals and they are not numbered.

I want to sit in an airplane seat and be comfortable. I want to sit in chair and not worry that my hips will spill over the sides. I want to cross my legs at the knee, not just the ankle. I want to run.

I may not always feel so positive about this and I recognize that. I may have days where that number is bigger than it is now. I just want to try. Really try. For me.

Snowing

Ever been snowed? I mean, like when you meet someone and you think they're amazing-a real gem-and then later you realize they're just awful?

I've hired a couple people that have snowed me. One guy came into his interview wearing a suit and tie. He laughed and answered the questions with enthusiasm and promise. I hired him with confidence. Within a week I realized I'd made a mistake. He would suddenly not feel well on days when a football game was on. He would have a back injury in the middle of the week and then be fine the next day. When he was at work he'd wander the aisles, touching product but never actually doing anything. I found out after I fired him that he used to cat call women as they walked by the store-claiming he was 'drumming up business'.

I promoted someone that ended up stealing from us. 

I promoted a girl that was stoned all the time. 

I hired one guy that I ended up firing after a month because he did nothing but sit behind the counter. The rest of the team celebrated his departure. 

The first person I ever fired was a 60 something year old woman. She and I had been working nights together for months and had many a conversation about life. I knew deep down she wasn't a very good employee but now suddenly I was her boss and expected to do something about it. 

The day came when I had to sit down with her and explain why she couldn't work with us anymore. I was a wreck. I was shaking, crying and felt absolutely terrible. It was 2 weeks before Thanksgiving, she was an elderly woman that lived alone and had recently confessed that she had nothing-not even enough money to pay for heat through the winter. And I was about to fire her. 

She seemed angry at first, then quickly let it go. She actually ended up comforting me before leaving the store. 

The staff hated me for awhile. They had no problem telling me how unfair they thought it was that I'd fired someone who had been with the company longer than me. Someone that in fact had helped show me around the store, given me countless rides home and been one of the few people to show support when I'd been promoted. 

I didn't blame them. I hated me too. I battled over whether I'd done the right thing or if I'd succumbed to the clutches of a coporate way of thinking. I lost myself for a little while and nearly quit a handful of times. I listened to staff tell me they thought I was a shitty leader, that I didn't know what I was doing. I believed them. I heard them say often they didn't want to work for me. 

Eventually I pushed through the negativity. I befriended and clung to anyone that seemingly understood what I was going through as a very new, very scared manager. 

I learned how to respond to harsh criticism with a tough skin. I learned how to tell someone to fuck off without saying exactly that. I learned how to hire. And to fire. I learned how to help others see when they should move on too. I became a mentor and a good person. A strong and effective leader that still had a heart. I found balance. 

So much of what I learned as a manager has bled into my everyday life. I still make mistakes and get snowed from people, but not like I used to. I listen to my gut, my intuition. I pay attention to my feelings when I first meet someone and how I feel after I've spent time with them. I give people a chance to be who they are and then decide if I want to 'hire' them. We choose our friends, our people as we get older and how wonderful that I've learned how to do just that. 

I have a wonderful support system of friends and family and friends that are family and it feels....warm. No chance of snow. 

Surrounded

I am surrounded by love. I have friends, family, my fella...and yet I still worry that I'm not going to be accepted by...who? That random person in the store?

I wish I didn't have these thoughts. They make life very challenging sometimes.

Going into a bakery or an ice cream parlor makes me anxious. It feels like all eyes are on me, wondering what the hell I'm doing in there-certainly I don't need a treat.

Walking through the clothing section in most stores makes me uncomfortable. I can't even look at the smaller sizes. Instead, I rifle through the brightly colored floral patterned bedazzled tops and jeans that evidently is the preferred style for plus size women. I often end up in the men's section, selecting a tshirt that's usually black.

Meeting new people is hard sometimes. It's not as bad as it used to be-especially here it seems people are a bit more accepting-but it's still hard.

Going to events where a nicer type of dress is suggested-like the ballet or a play or even a really nice dinner out-spikes the anxiety. I never feel like what I'm wearing fits the way it should. It feels like everyone is looking at my clothes and thinking, 'Oh that does NOT look right on a girl her size'.

I choose things like plain black dresses and shirts because it's difficult to find something wrong with them. I rarely wear shirts without sleeves because I feel like my upper arms are one of the more disgusting parts of me. I used to wear shorts more often-I actually liked my legs. But years of being on my feet and the birth of varicose veins along with cellulite and scars have changed my mind.

I don't always feel this way about myself. I get up and get dressed and go out in public, meet people, smile...I function. I don't often feel ugly anymore but I did for a long time. It's a feeling I was used to feeling and that's hard to change.


I don't always think people are judging me. But sometimes, when I'm sitting in a bar and I've just had to move the table so I can fit in the booth...

I struggle with remembering that I am loved and accepted by the only people that matter. My friends, my family, my fella.

And my cats.

What Life Means to You

"Life"

The pursuit of happiness
exploration
adventure
and love

Joy

Birth
breath
sucks

Depends on the day

Irony

Springtime
the lion
king
all the animals
Circle of life

Bop magazine
Ring pops
Lip smackers
Wet 'n wild
Nail polish

Turtles

The game
of
dearly beloved

We are gathered here
to get through this
thing
called
a gift
a treasure
the game
Breathing.

Bruce said
baby
I said
death.

Being
the bible

Cereal

Something that a lot of
people
take for granted
But
It's actually
A very precious
Thing

Love

Water

The breath
of life
is
Love.


*This poem was created from the answers of friends when asked, "When you hear the word 'life' what is the first thing you think of. #Lovewins

Miss You

I still have tears in the corner of my eyes when I wake. The dream was so vivid- I swear it was your voice that brought me to the morning. But it couldn't be. You've been gone for several years now.

You shouldn't be gone you know. Way too soon. Too many things weren't said and too many things were just left unresolved. I can't remember if I got to tell you how much you meant to me. I'd like to think you know, but...Well, how do I know?

I can't seem to rid my eyes of the tears. They have dried but they still stay, burning with memories.

You saved me. You were there the day I almost wasn't. You stayed and held me and helped me become me again. I told you that didn't I? That you were my rock, my hope?

I can't stop thinking about what used to be. I miss the past, a part of my life that can't be relived, simply because...that life is gone.

I miss you.

Watering the Yard

I have this little section in my phone that I put down writing ideas. I used to carry a little notebook and never was without a pen. There's something a little sad about how that's changed but I'm not sure what it is. 

I water the yard in the morning. It's amazing how easily something can become routine. I walk a route around the yard, carrying the hose. I water the snapdragons first, then rose and raspberry bushes, the herb bed, the herbs in pots on the porch and then my favorite, the raised bed.

I pull the hose as far as it will go and stand at one end of the bed. The shining arc of water sways rhythmically as I move the hose gently back and forth. The wood frame darkens from the spray as I make my way from one end to the other. The inch high sprout of corn that glows bright green in morning sun is near the end. The corn that I planted. All by myself, in a grid shape- because that's supposed to be the best way.

I glance at the pond. No need to fill today. There are several brown spots in the yard. We like to talk about why they might be there-the yard is new to both of us.

I don't mind the lighter patches. Sometimes, in the evening when I'm walking around looking for things to weed, I'll come across one of those spots. They feel good on my bare feet, different from the green grass. The brown spots are warm, like hay in a summer field. Reminds me of grandma's house in eastern Washington. Reminds me of her.

I soak the brown spots last.

Three knobs to twist before all the water is turned off. One at the handle, two at the faucet. Never seen that before but it makes sense to me. The hose lives on a hose rack-something else foreign to me. It's amazing how quickly you learn new routines.  I turn the crank to wind the hose, careful to keep out kinks and not to coil it tightly.

I check the strawberries. Almost. Glance at the cherry tree. Maybe three days. The raspberries. Only a few today.

The dogs are barking on two sides and I talk to them through the fence. "It's ok pups. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."   Sometimes it seems like it helps.

The cats are at the slider, staring intently through the screen. They didn't come out with me today. I'm meeting a friend for lunch and I don't have time for cat watch.

I pad across the deck, open the slider. I shuffle the cats gently with my foot, "No. Get back. Nope. Back cats." In the voice that doesn't mean treats are coming.

No escapees.  I kick off what are now my 'outside' shoes and take note of the pine needles in the carpet just inside the door. I'll have to vacuum soon. I walk into the kitchen and start the water to boil for my coffee. Reward for completing my chore.

When the coffee is made, I go to the slider again. I open it, noticing the water droplets from only minutes ago are gone from the porch. It's going to be hot today. I go to the little table and chairs we set up there and sit down. I close my eyes and smile, listening. The birds are singing, the pond is bubbling, the dogs are quiet for the moment and I am at peace.

I open my eyes, take a sip of my coffee. My eyes travel the yard.
That rose is starting.
Looks like the bunny might have gotten to the plant in the corner. Hmm. I wonder if that's the bird they were talking about the other night.
I think I'll do some weeding tomorrow.

My Period is Coming...A Helpful Guide

I was talking with a girlfriend the other day and it occurred to us that women basically only feel 'normal' one week a month. It varies from the individual of course, but generally speaking? That whole, 'bitches be crazy' thing isn't really that far off. It's because our hormones are raging like all the time.

And as we get older, it gets worse. It feels like puberty in reverse. You still get horny at weird times, things are changing in size and you find yourself eating nothing but junk food.

I live with a man now. One that I care for and kind of don't want to freak out with my hormonal weirdness. I yelled at the water dispenser tonight and then grabbed my pint of Ben and Jerry's like it was Gollum's Precious. I could scare him.

So I decided to create a list of all the possible PMS symptoms I'll have in the course of my lifetime.

Or next month.

Sweet cravings-Hi Ben, Jerry. Nice to see you again
Salty cravings
Meat cravings-seriously, I could live on ribeyes
Sexy time cravings

Fatigue
Restlessness
Trouble sleeping
Sleeping a ton
Heightened anxiety
Heightened depression (Yay.)
Severe cranky pants
Severe sad pants for literally no reason. I've cried at TV commericals, South Park episodes, and because the soap was too slippery.
Heightened sensitivity
Low self confidence or the "Everything I wear makes me look fat" feeling

Clumsiness
Forgetfullness
Easily distracted
Indecision

Sore boobs
Itchy nipples
Pimples-seriously, wtf?
Ovulation cramps
First day cramps
Headaches
Bloating
Oh, and bleeding.

I could have any combination of these symptoms, at any given time. For three weeks out of the month. It's enough to make you crazy.

Brace Yourself...My Period is Coming

Fog

I wrote it and reread it and changed it a little and then reread it again and then rewrote it a bit more...But now it's sent and there's no turning back and fuck I hope this doesn't continue.

My anxiety has been bordering on full intensity the last few days but I've been working hard to try and keep it at bay. I went for a walk, I talk to my fella about what I'm going through and I ask for advice from different people to gain lots of perspective. I'm trying to work through this.

I thought it might be getting better and then something hit me fast and I felt it sink into me like lead in a lake. I fought against it, but it's still hanging in there a bit, like the lingering ring of a phone in an empty house.

I'm sleeping more.

I went to bed early last night and slept late today. I woke with a heaviness in my head-like my mind was wrapped in gauze. I can't tell if it's mental or physical fog.

I'm eating whatever I want.

I ate sunflower seeds for lunch yesterday, Almond Roca for dinner. I drink coffee and crave that jolt of caffeine to come, just so I feel more up. It didn't come this morning.

Being outside yesterday, the air felt good. I got back in the car after my walk and felt aches I'd been denying flare to the surface, making me regret my attempt at exercise. The two things aren't related, but I made them that way in my head.

Before I left home, a coworker told me, "You'll probably go through a depression."   I'm not even sure he knows what that word means, because for someone that has it, it doesn't just mean 'sad'. And I don't know if that's what this is. I just don't feel...right, right now.

I might be ok this afternoon. I might need a day or so. Maybe I'll feel better when I go home and see Dad for my birthday. Maybe I'll be reminded why I'm happy to be here. I need to ride this through.

I hope they don't respond to my letter. I don't want to deal with this anymore. I don't want things to be challenging and for life to be hard right now. I just want to enjoy new things and let myself be for a little while. I want to go have lunch with my friends, make new friends, explore and learn new things...

I want the fog to lift.

Anxious

So much anxiety. I can't focus on anything. I'm completely distracted and I have trouble reconnecting myself to anything that doesn't involve leading a team.

My manager role was incredibly self defining. I know I'm more than that of course but I'm not sure how to use those parts.

I'm loving the life I'm in now. I truly enjoy getting up and watering the plants, tidying up the kitchen and leisurely enjoying my coffee. I'm trying to write more but sometimes inspiration is quiet.

I'm literally forcing myself to write this today because maybe if I feel like I've really accomplished something I won't feel so anxious.

Writing that, it sounds like I just need to go back to work. But the thought of doing that right now kind of makes the anxiety worse. I know I could have a few options if I was ready for them but I feel so mixed up right now. I know I wouldn't be helpful.

I am most worried about money. God how I hate money. I hate that I need it to enjoy a lot of the things that I like to do. Even just wandering around a new city costs money.

I'm worried that despite his gentle assurances that it won't, resentment will build within my fella and our relationship will suffer. I want so much to feel confident is his understanding and the fact that I struggle with it bothers me. It's all inside my head and I don't know how to let it go.

Except through writing. So I'm here. Forcing the words out.

I worry about driving too and how I'm not doing it. I need to learn how but first I need to visit the DMV and that in itself is a bit of a chore because I don't have the money to update my ID/permit. Again. MONEY. I joke about selling my ovaries but seriously...I have just gone from working more than full time to not working at all.

I am working hard to adjust from complete independence to total dependence. I am trying but today...fuck I feel anxious.

I have a coffee date with an old coworker. Maybe that's part of it. I know the conversation will inevitably come around to whether or not I'll return and I'm just not ready. But how do I say that without seeming ungrateful for the offer?

I know I have to do what's best for me but I'm not sure what that is right now.

I just want peace.

Jump

I was walking down the sidewalk behind my group of friends. We were wandering around Broadway after dark and all the shops were closed. I saw a photo in a store front window and stopped.

The man in the photo was wearing a three piece suit. He was falling from a skyscraper's window in haunting black and white. I was transfixed and drowning in morbid curiosity instantly. Why did he jump? Did he have to break the window? What did he think of as he was falling? Did he think of anyone before he met the ground? 

What did the photographer think? He had to have known there was nothing he could do... His muse was destined to fall. Perhaps the realization came to the photographer suddenly? He somehow thought, with just a quick reach for the camera, a man's life is...suspended, forever frozen in wondrous, weightless flight. And not...death.   

Eventually my friends noticed I wasn't laughing alongside them and they came back to pull me from the window. I never saw the photo again.  I looked for it every time I was on Broadway and that was a lot when I was seventeen and coffee at midnight was cool.

I wonder who bought it.

Weirdo

The tv was on for noise and one of those eharmony commercials came on. I wasn't really paying attention but the music caught my ear. The voiceover says jovially, "Isn't it time you started looking for your perfect person?"

And without even thinking about it, I responded, "Already did."

Ok, I know it sounds cheesy. And maybe a little weird. I was talking to a tv commercial after all. But the reaction washed over me like a splash of sunlight. I just know.

I've said that many times over the years and each time I thought I was sure. In the past,  as I told myself everything was fine, or that 'he' was the one...even as I smiled and swooned with friends...I was always a little doubtful.

That's what is so completely amazing about now. I have never had even one second of doubt or wonder. I know with every inch of my heart that I am exactly where I should be.

I feel... full. Happy and content. I know I'm loved. And appreciated. And respected. And all the things I've always deserved and only pretended I had before.

The lies we tell ourselves are the most cruel. The truth always comes and when it does it's cold and hard. It slices in and rips out the heart that had dare love again. It brings pain that lingers for what seems like always. It makes you wish you'd just kept believing the lies.

But you start to heal. It takes longer for some and it's always different. But you heal. And you start to believe again. Every time, a little stronger and wiser.  The heart that had been so wounded becomes proud of its scars. A survivor.

Ready to live.

It wasn't until my heart had survived that I  finally began to be ok with who I am. So many people had advised me this is how it would happen but I wasn't ready to hear them. I already thought I was ok.

I've changed. Something inside clicked and it felt like I was finally able to breathe. I felt the confidence others had assured me was there. I knew I could be myself. My muppet loving, Star Wars obsessed, book sniffing, singing to the cats crazy person that I am. I knew someone would be mine and appreciate all that weirdness and even if they never did...I would. I would love me.

And I do.
And it's because I do...that I can love him.

I Am Loved

When I was 25 or so, I wasn't happy. I was miserable actually. I ate poorly and lived on my couch watching movies, loathing myself. I cried a lot and had moments where I didn't know who I was. I didn't care.

But I had friends that cared about me and they tried to help. They got me out of the house. It didn't feel like they were helping me at the time. Being around other people and dealing with...well, life, was a sort of sick torture. I wasn't going through a phase-I was incredibly depressed and eventually...suicidal. 

I remember being in the car with some friends. We were out on a drive, smoking pot and listening to music. I had rolled the window down and laid my head on the door. I blinked into the cold air and stayed that way until my face grew numb. My friend driving turned to me, "You ok?"

I didn't answer until he asked me again. I finally responded, "Do you ever just not care if you live or die?"

At that moment, I really wanted to know. If he had that thought go through him too, maybe I wasn't crazy. Maybe I'd be ok. 

He just kind of looked at me and then returned his focus to the road. I remember hoping we'd crash. 

Another day, when I was feeling a little better, I was at the mall. I walked by a store that had a bowl full of buttons on display. Bright red buttons with white letters telling me "I Am Loved".  I took one and attached it to my purse. 

It stayed there a long time. When I was visiting my therapist, I could see it on the strap, reminding me, I Am Loved. When I'd call and talk to my parents, it was there. If I was working and I needed it, I could just glance at my purse under the counter and know...I Am Loved. 

I got better. 

Recently, while I was packing, I came across the button. It was in a bag with other memories, a bit rusted around the pin but still bright red with white letters. I Am Loved. 

I held it in my hand and let myself remember who I'd been 15 years ago. That button had helped me mend. Every time I saw it, I read those three words and over time, I began to believe it. And trust it. And eventually...accept it. 

After a moment, I put the button back in the bag. 

I didn't need it anymore. 

Inner Fight

Everyone around me seems so calm. They talk about how I'll have a garden and be able to relax and how nice it will be to be out of where I am.

And all I think about is what am I going to do for money? How will I contribute to the home when I won't have income right away? How will I learn to be ok with letting my boyfriend take care of me?Even if it is only temporary? What am I going to do if I can't find anything? What if resentment builds and our relationship suffers? What if the fucking cat pees on something he loves? What if the store suffers because I'm gone? Why do I even care?

I want to distance myself and I'm struggling to do so. I'm clinging to what's comfortable, despite how wonderful I know change can be. Fear.

Literally two days ago I couldn't be more happy with how things were going. Today, in about 30 minutes-everything changed. The dip in the roller coaster was fast and unexpected. I should have known.

 Always fighting the ride.

I found some dark poetry in an old journal while I was packing. I feel a little sad today but I'm never going to be the girl that wrote those pages again. I think I thought the poem was good because it rhymed. It wasn't.


I know logically that yes, everything will be fine. I even know that if it doesn't go fine, it will still be ok. But not right now. I'm working on it though.

H.

You could tell she wasn't the kind of person that showed her feelings.

I knew she knew it wouldn't be long. I saw tears building in her eyes as she told me her story. I asked her if she wanted a hug and for a split second she hesitated before letting me hold her. She sobbed against my shoulder and then quickly gathered herself.

"I'm sorry, " she whispered, hurriedly wiping away her feelings.

I put my hand on her arm, "Please don't be. It's fine. Really."

She sniffled a little and then we talked about something else until she left.

She came back today. He's gone now and as she shared with me pictures and stories, her eyes filled once more.

I could tell she wasn't the kind of person that shared her feelings much. Yet here she was, clearly grieving. I hugged her again and this time she let me.

She told me she would miss me and wished me well before leaving.

I took a few moments alone.


 

The Worry

"You've always had The Worry. Everything's ok now. Just enjoy it."

I wish it was as easy as just believing that. I've been worried about just about everything for as long as I can remember. Over the years I've learned to trust certain people and situations more but occasionally The Worry pops up and screams at me about every tiny thing imaginable.

"Don't stress out so much."

Yes alright. If only I could. It's not easy for me to control. The Worry is invasive and creeps in like ivy. Unnoticeable at first and then suddenly it's everywhere and you're scrambling for a hedge trimmer before it takes over. Sometimes it feels easier just to let it grow.

I have some pretty big life changes happening. I'm leaving the city I grew up in, my job, my friends, my home...I'm moving in with someone that I absolutely trust and love and am excited to move in with but it won't be just me and the cats anymore.

I have made half a dozen lists of things I need to do. I've told so many people I can't remember who knows and who doesn't. I've tried counting down the days and not counting down. I've tried meditating too, just to give my mind some peace.

I've gotten a cold, I don't sleep very well and I'm justifying cheesy poofs and m&ms for dinner way too easily. I can tell The Worry is winning right now and it pisses me off because I just don't know how to fight it anymore.

I try looking ahead-at the day when all my books are unpacked and the house smells like us and I'm drinking my morning coffee on my back porch because holy shit I'll have a back porch, and that helps a little. But as soon as I let myself enjoy that moment, The Worry pops up with reminders of unemployment and lack of a car and no friends nearby to share that moment with.

"Everything will be fine. You deserve this!"

Why?  I mean, thank you...but why? I'm no better than anyone else.  Having a home? Isn't this is the way a lot of people just... live?

 I have had amazing support throughout this and I've truly been overwhelmed sometimes. It's a great and exciting thing and the kindness I've received is beautiful and so appreciated but sometimes The Worry fucks with that too and makes me wonder why it's happening. How did this happen? Is it going to fall apart? What will I do if it does?

"Trust me."

The Worry likes to invite What If to the mind fuck sometimes and when the two of them get together it's a storm inside my head. I lay awake and stare at my phone or the ceiling, reeling with all the things to do I should have already done. The doubt and anxiety tumble into one another, crashing like waves and I feel like I'm drowning.  I struggle to breathe...in through my nose, out through my mouth. I place my hand on my stomach, focus on the light weight of it as my chest rises and falls. I begin to see the surface and remember...

"You've always had The Worry. Everything's ok now. Just enjoy it."

Consciousness

It's windy outside. The chimes are loud. An hour ago I was on the couch, my eyes heavy and threatening sleep. Now I lay with eyes wide open, my mind racing.

I can feel my heart rate go up as I struggle to focus on my breathing. In through my nose, slowly out through my mouth. Fuck those wind chimes are loud.

The cat next to me groan/growls as I turn onto my side. Clearly this king size bed isn't big enough for both of us.

I start playing with my lip, pulling the skin I've been chewing on. My fingers trace my mouth, critically finding every imperfection. A pimple? I thought I was too old for those.

Another cat at the base of the bed meows. His meow is plaintive, almost a yowl. He wants on the bed but the disgruntled elder cat will freak and he knows it.

I  could read for awhile I suppose but it's so late already and I have to work in the morning. I could take melatonin I guess, but the last time I did I got sick and now I'm paranoid it will happen again.

Still the chimes.  The last cat jumps from the window sill onto the bed, successfully passes grumpy pants and starts to purr. It's a comforting sound and much softer than the bells outside.

I could close the window but then the cool breeze that's been visiting will go away.  It feels delicious on my bare arms.

My eyes are getting a little droopy now...the chimes are being subdued by the wind... The cats are quiet....

Sleep....

I Don't Know

I can feel that things are going to change soon. It scares me and thrills me at the same time.

I often get this way this time of year. The buds of new beginnings are decorating dark tree branches and the sun is shining more. Changed from the gray skies that have been for months.

I want to talk to my dad about the things I want to do but I'm afraid he'll say what he always does. He doesn't understand why I don't have my license yet. Sometimes I don't either. I talk to him about everything but this...feels like I need to do it on my own. But do what?

I am so inspired by others. I've seen several friends take that scary plunge of doing something different and watched them spread their wings and fly.

My fear is that I'll start to fly and just keep flying until I'm so exhausted I don't know where I am and then...I fall. I suppose that's everyone's fear.

Every time I'm away from home, I don't miss it. That's always been a sign it was time to move on. But there are things that need to happen first and I understand that. But most of the time, I just want to say fuck it and run away. I suppose that's everyone's thought sometimes.

I've got to figure myself out.

K

About a week or so ago we noticed she had alcohol on her breath. She seemed a little inappropriate-flirting with the staff- when she'd always been professional before. We didn't think too much of it though-to each their own and no harm done.

Recently she visited the store, asked to use the bathroom. I let her in to have some privacy and when she came back out she had tears in her eyes and she was shaking.

She's a customer. I know her dog's name and what kind of food he likes. She's the kind of customer that comes in smiling and brings us treats because we give her dog treats. She's funny and kind and it saddens me to see she's clearly suffering.

I ask her if she needs a hug and she falls into me. She's shorter than me and gets on her tiptoes so she can lay her head on my shoulder and cry into my neck. She's shaking with sobs, saying she's sorry as she lets go of whatever is hurting her. I hold her, concerned. She's like a child.

When she steps back she wipes her eyes and tells me.

"Just before new year's I was leaving my apartment and there were some guys outside in the parking lot, hanging out. They came at me, punched me in the face and knocked me out. When I came to they were gone and I didn't know if they-if-"

She trails off, shaking her head and it's then I notice the bruises and small cuts on her forehead and nose.

"I went to Harborview and they did an exam. They told me it appeared unlikely but-I just-I didn't know-"

She dissolves into tears again and I pull her to me once more. I can feel her fear and it mingles with my own. The terror she must have felt. The not knowing. I stroke her hair, ask her if she has someone to stay with her. She assures me she does and then she tells me she just wants to go home and sleep.

After she left I stood there a moment, trying to absorb what she'd told me. I'm glad I was there for her.  I've never had someone hug me like that-when they so clearly needed to be held. It was powerful.

A few days ago I found out she checked herself back into rehab. She'd fallen a bit in the aftermath of her ordeal and was able to recognize she needed help to mend.

Her story haunts me for so many reasons but it's her strength that I think of when I think of her. She may have stumbled in her recovery but she picked herself back up and she will survive this.  

And Then Some

I had big plans to start eating better two days ago and instead I made a fantastically huge breakfast. I sat on my couch in my robe with my boyfriend and watched cartoons and ate bacon and eggs and potatoes and bratwurst and kraut and coffee and it was ridiculously tasty.

After breakfast we took a nap.

Not very new year's resolution-y.

It was amazing.

After the nap, we went grocery shopping and bought food to make an equally stellar dinner. While we were in the store and I was perusing shelves, he called his parents to wish them a happy new year. I liked him just a little bit more then.

He's so thoughtful. And considerate. And funny. And responsible but still spontaneous. He's adorable. And honest. And kind. And gentle but still strong. He's everything I knew I wanted but didn't think I'd find.

We had ice cream after breakfast. With nutmeat. Sounds like an inside joke and it is. It's also little bits of pistachio.


Went to the Nutcracker with the girls this year and it was lovely as it always is. We posed in front of the same place everyone else did while a stranger took our picture. Moments later and I see us in a text message. I see me. Yup. Still fat. But this time I don't feel a pang of sadness with the realization.

I mean, I guess I do a little, but it doesn't make me want to create a self-hate crime. Instead I feel hope override the disappointment. For the first time in maybe ever, I believe I can change. I have told myself more times than I can count that this would be the year I finally lose weight and get my license and fall in love and get a raise and move into a house and travel and do all the other things I tell myself I'm going to do.

This time I feel like I can do all those things and then some. I need to be healthier. I need to make some changes. I want to do the then some.

I like the picture from the Nutcracker. It shows me with my friends. I'm smiling and standing with my arms around them, and they're smiling too. We're celebrating who we are with each other and it's beautiful.

I am beautiful.

Happy

I didn't sleep well at all last night and this morning it feels a bit like some evil little imp came and shoved cotton up my nose while I was unconscious. I can't afford to get sick right now-I truly don't have time.

One of my staffers called last night and quit. Her last day is the 31st and I wish her so much luck and happiness because I'm her friend but I'm stressing out about the upcoming inventory counts because I'm her boss. I hate inventory.

My wifi went all stupid this morning and it wasn't until I finally picked up the phone to call Comcast that it started working properly. Like it knew.

Its raining and drab and kinda cold and so very winter today. I have a long day at work ahead of me and I'd like very much to just crawl under my blankets and try that sleep thing one more time.

I smashed my thumb in a cupboard yesterday and of course I have hit it no less than a dozen times since.

BUT

I'm happy.

I sang a silly little song about a jar of cookie butter in my pantry and it made me laugh and I took a moment to just laugh at myself.

I had a text from my more than friend waiting for me this morning-just like every morning since we've started being more than friends-and it made me reflect on how far I've come since He Who Shall Not Be Named.  I used to think that he damaged me, ruined me for anyone else but now I wonder if maybe he didn't help me.

If I hadn't gone through all that, if I hadn't known what I absolutely don't want or need, I couldn't appreciate this new wonder that has come over me.

This feels easy, comfortable, exciting and complete. I feel like we've known each other always as we get to know each other more each day. He makes me laugh and think about things and he's kind and being with him feels like I'm finally where I'm supposed to be.

But my happiness isn't just because of him and that's new too. In the past, being happy had relied on whether or not I had a guy in my life. This time, I went in slow, let things develop on their own and made sure that my head and heart were in a good place. I have taken good friends' advice and not overanalyzed things, looking for something to be wrong. I'm just enjoying it. And him. My more than friend...

By the End, I'm Ok

Today was...a day.

I woke up to find a message from a friend. A friend that is becoming a little more than that and it was nice to feel that feeling without being afraid of it.

Work was a Monday and it's near the first of the month and there's so much to do and I have orientation with the new girl today and wait, did anyone take the deposit? and "Lindsay phone for you, it's your boss. Shouldn't have done that. Fix it and smile! It's retail! You're an example!"

Sigh.

And then a text from someone I didn't need to hear from. A message proving what I didn't see all along. Selfish. Ugly. Hurtful. Sociopath.

I got through that one ok. Took me a minute. I had to let myself feel every cruel word one more time because the wound is healing but it's still red and it hurts when you poke it.

I got through the rest of the Monday, closed up shop. I found a message from the friend and it made me smile. I was back on the upside.

Finally starting to relax, sort of watching the TV I hear the sound of what unfortunately is so very familiar now and I know...that cat is ruining something. I want to cry with frustration as I clean up the mess again. I realize I can't keep doing this and I plea with friends to help me.

I want to cry now. Work stress. Hurtful reminders. Cats. But I don't. Instead I remember that everything is going to be ok in the end.

If it's not ok, it isn't the end.

Morning Sun

The winter sun is so orange. It seems so much brighter than the sun in June and yet I can look at it with my eyes wide open. There's frost on the cars going past my window and the birds that haven't already gone south are taunting the kitten through the glass. I have a peaceful song playing and my coffee is freshly brewed. These moments are so gently treasured. I sink into them without guilt and relish that I'm alone with myself.

Landslide starts to play and suddenly mom is with me too. I can smell her hair and see her smile. I can hear her voice with mine as I sing along with Stevie. I let the emotion of the words flow over me and I don't mind when my eyes swell a bit with tears.

The sun is more yellow now but still not a summer sun. I can see the cold outside in the breath from passersby, the exhaust from cars, the slow melt of frozen dew.

Now as the sun starts to make its way across the keyboard the rays become sharp. They pierce through the blinds and into my eyes. I wince against them, a hand to my forehead shielding.

Later the sun rides high in the sky, reminding me the day is going to go on. I feel it's warmth through the window, know it's deceiving. I don't want to go outside. I don't want to see the light. I want to do nothing I need to do.

The sun will come out tomorrow.

Just

Just don't be nice to me.

If you're nice to me than I'll think you care and when you eventually show me that you don't...  I don't want to feel that. Not again.

If you're nice to me, I'll cry. And when I cry it makes me feel weak...I don't want you to see that. Not again.

Just leave me alone in my darkness. Don't ask me if I'm ok. Don't offer to sit with me or hug me. Don't touch me with your kindness or your hands.

Just let me feel this. Let me breath it in and fill my lungs with it. Let me drown.

Are you ok?

I'm ok. Sort of. I'm getting through the day.

Well I think you're a nifty person.

Even when I'm like this?

I know this isn't the real you.

Choice

She's been there for a few months now. I recognize her shopping cart from halfway down the block. It has a red and white afghan that hangs off the side. Sometimes she's asleep when I go past. Sometimes, she sees me and looks away. I tried smiling at her once but she shook her head. A man was with her once. He had lots of bags with him but no blankets. His feet were wet from standing in the rain. He was wearing slippers.


Sometimes she's across the street, curled  up on the bus stop bench. She covers her head with the afghan when she tries to sleep.

I wonder how she got there, where she came from. I wonder how I can help her, if she'd let me if I tried. I wonder who the man was and if he'll be back someday. I wonder where she goes at night-she just always seems to be there.

I walked home tonight with a grocery bag and my coat. It was pouring down rain and I thought how I couldn't wait to get home and out of my wet clothes. I was replaying the day in my mind, thinking about things I could have done better at work. I wasn't looking forward to coming home and doing chores-laundry, dishes...

I got closer to the bus stop where she'd been this morning and saw that her cart was tucked under cover. I didn't see her until I got closer and then all I saw was her feet sticking out from under a blanket. I glanced at her from under my rain soaked hood and saw her foot move. I couldn't see her face because it was covered with clothes, blankets, and other pieces of her life.

I turned the corner and swallowed hard. Tears pricked my eyes as I rounded the corner to home. Without a word, I'd been reminded how very lucky I am.

Drowning In My Own Black Waters

I call it the darkness.

I fall into it, the darkness. It engulfs me all at once, and it's cold. I struggle against it, desperately try to reach the surface. Depression is my darkness.

I still laugh. And I make jokes and I say silly things. But it's not real. No one knows that though. I've been doing this a long time, wearing this face. It fits better than my real one. I feel pain. Physical pain. I feel achy and tired in my neck, shoulders, feet and back. I have an intense personal pressure to be over it even though I don't know what it is.

The darkness pulls at me over and over again, repeating every terrible thought I can summon.

I'm broken. I need to be better than I am. I'm not good enough. I'm not what I thought I should be by now and everyone in the whole world knows I've never really done fucking anything with my life and just why exactly am I still here? Who the fuck am I?  I'm going to die alone but not before Dad does-he's 72!-and even though he says he will, he won't live forever and how the fuck am I going to get through that? Death. Mom. Loss. Grief. Has it been too long to still feel this way when I think of her? Am I ever going to feel normal?'I'm living in a smelly apartment because I have cats -how cliche- and I stopped giving a shit that it smells like shit. I might be giving up. I watch TV and ignore my chores and eat fucking M&Ms and write depressing blogs that no one actually reads. I'm fat and not fucking ok with it and the new haircut doesn't matter because I didn't lose a chin, just got bangs for fuck's sake. 

I struggle. But I don't cry. I don't know if I know how to anymore. At some point I decided there wasn't any point. I try to stay distracted. That's not so easy to do when you have no desire to do anything but sleep and watch Netflix. Work helps. I put a lot of focus into my job and I allow myself to enjoy the successes each day brings. I told someone today that if I didn't have a job, I don't know what I'd do. That scares the shit out of me and the thought becomes another layer to the darkness. 

It's too much sometimes. Overwhelming and dark, cold and consuming. Like I'm drowning. 

Fat

I'm fat. If I was fat and happy then fuck it right? At least I'm happy.  Except I'm kind of not happy right now and I feel the need to whine about it on my blog.

I got my haircut today. I got bangs again and my layers cleaned up. The girl was nice and overall it was a nice experience. Usually I feel pretty after I get my haircut. Except today. Today the giant mirror before the salon chair showed me how fat I was. I'm so big now that my head is starting to look small.

I always thought I carried myself well and that I 'wasn't that bad' but goddammit...I am. I'm not overweight or 'a big girl'. Those are words and phrases I've told myself to avoid using that crushing three letter word.

Fat.
I'm not happy about it.

This is where I promise myself to start eating better and to get back on the treadmill and to not binge, impulse buy sweets, or live off of carbs for the weekend...And this is when I start to feel like shit that I've done all those things and that it's my own fucking fault I'm this way.

I don't like these feelings, but they are very real. Sometimes I try to laugh about it. I'll make a little jab at myself. I try to say it before someone else does. If the thought went through my mind, surely someone else is thinking it. Beat 'em to the punch.

I'm not always wrong you know. There are people that don't like fat people. There are people that find them disgusting and lazy and stupid. I know this because that's just life. I'm not all butt hurt about those people, it's just a fact that bigotry and ignorance exists.  

I once went to a seminar with a friend. The speaker spent some time showing us ways to help purge ourselves of negative thought. I found the concept interesting and was looking forward to seeing how the evening played out. At one point, the speaker suggested crossing your legs to provide a more comfortable sitting style. She looked at me and began, "Lindsay, if you can't cross your-"
She cut herself off, "Oh, you got it! Good for you!"

Yes. I can cross my legs. Good for me.

Another woman approached me later and introduced herself. She told me she was so glad to meet me because she'd always been nervous to meet someone like me before. When I asked her what she meant she said, "Oh you know, someone of your size." She said that she didn't think we'd have anything in common but after meeting me, she knew I was just a person.

Just a person. Jesus what else would I be?

I know these people weren't trying to be hurtful. They had no way to know that I would always remember what they said.

Once, when I was walking home, a guy driving by slowed down and leaned out his window, "You should look into Jenny Craig girl!"

Thank you random stranger.

I spent several weeks talking to a guy once on AOL (yes, that long ago) and when I sent him my picture he told me he didn't date fat girls. When AOL was new, I wasn't even fat. I just thought I was.

But I know I am now and as much as I tell myself how awesome I am no matter what size, today it fucking sucks to be an overweight big girl that carries it well.

Today I feel fat.

Happy Birthday

Hi Mama
Hi Honey, how are you?
I'm ok.
Just ok?
Well, tomorrow is your birthday.
That's right! How old would I have been?
61.
61! Wow that's young, isn't it?
Yes it is Mama
What have you been up to the last eight years?
How much time do you have Mom?
Honey. I have all the time in the world.

I swear I can hear her voice. I can smell her perfume and hear her bracelets sing while she claps her hands at something that wasn't very funny. Except to her. I can feel her arms around me, holding me while I cry and her hands stroking my head. I can hear her humming gentle folk songs into my hair and smell her shampoo. She is with me so strongly right now. The day before her birthday.

But I can't hear her advice. I can't hear what she might say if I asked her for advice about work or about a guy I was dating. I can't taste her banana bread even if I have the recipe committed to memory. I can smell the scent Opium but never again on her skin. I wish she was here so strongly right now. The day before her birthday.


Hi Mama

Luna

One night my mom and dad were out on a drive.

My mom was looking out the window, watching the moon follow her. They stopped at a corner near home and mom made a comment on how bright the moon was that night. Dad nodded, looked over,  and told her she was looking at a streetlight

I love that story.

My mom saw the moon in the glow of a streetlight. She saw the beauty in all things and it was a trait she shared with me. Whenever the moon is big and so bright you almost have to squint when you gaze upon it, I think of mom.

Full moon tonight. 

Netflixing

Sometimes, when I've worked the night shift and I can't wind down, I'll troll Netflix for something to fall asleep to. Tonight I went to my "Watch it Again" section because I was almost tired enough but still needed a sound to fall asleep to.

The small pictures went past and I started to smile. This list is such a good representation of me.

In no particular order:

Once Upon a Time
Aadams Family
The Nightmare Before Christmas
Breaking Bad
Spaceballs
The X-Files
The Emperor's New Groove
The Sword in the Stone
Dexter
Robin Hood
Clue
Paranorman
Walking Dead
Ghostbusters
Doc of the Dead
Firefly
Lost
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Twin Peaks
Ever After
The Cabin in the Woods
The Muppet Movie
Psych
The Breakfast Club
Gladiator
Freaks and Geeks
Trading Places
Fargo
Coming to America
Birth of the Living Dead
Alfred Hitchcock Presents
Reservoir Dogs
The Graduate
12 Angry Men
Flowers
The Italian Job
The Following
Exit Through the Gift Shop


Classics. Cartoons. Documentaries. Zombies. 80s flicks. Old TV shows. New TV shows. Muppets. This list couldn't be more of a description of me.

Not The One

Today is August 24, 2014.

I don't know you very well yet. We've been chatting for about a week. Sort of. We haven't spoken on the phone yet. I understand it's a rarity to have a conversation on the phone these days and I'm learning to be ok with it.

I "met" you (your profile) through an online dating site. Your name doesn't start with a J and even though that's really nothing, it was something. I like the way you talk about your children and that you aren't looking for their new mom. You said all of you had big enough hearts to make room for the right person. I like that.

I like that you're clever and that you are not afraid to let me know you're interested. Even it's only friendly right now, it's nice to receive little hellos throughout the day. Or to be asked how my day is going.

You seem to be honest. You seem to be kind and maybe a wee bit vulnerable-as though you know sadness is a very real part of life. You don't come across as weak; you seem intelligent and thoughtful, sensitive and sincere. I like that too.

I like your eyes.

I like that we both want to believe in the fairy tale, even if we know better. I like that I already feel as though I've made a friend.

Today is August 26, 2014

 I know your last name now. And that you want to meet me soon. I know that we both like the ocean and aren't really good housekeepers and that you feel comfortable with me and I like all those things.

I like that you asked how I slept, that you said good morning.

Today is August 28, 2014

I like that you randomly texted me to say hi. I like that you asked me if I'd seen the moon.

I like that you described an old movie to me and I could sense your enthusiasm even from a text.

I like that you tell dad jokes that make me laugh.

Today is August 30, 2014

I like the way you talk about your ex wife. I can tell it's over but that you still respect her as your kids' mother.

I like that you say good night and good morning to me, and that last night because of my schedule we didn't chat much and you said you missed that.

I like that you ask me random questions like, "do  you like pork chops?" just to get to know me better.

I like that we're taking this slow and as a result, I'm being challenged to do things differently.

I like that you like the same things as me, that we seem to share the same values and that you seem to get me....already. How can it have only been two weeks since we first talked?

I like that too. It seems like only yesterday and also like months. Fresh and familiar, comfortable and new.

Today is September 1, 2014

You brought up meeting me again today. You also told me that a girl  you contacted was cute, but that you thought she was too nice. That I had an 'edge' and that you needed that in a partner. I liked that.

I know it's such a simple thing, but saying good morning to me is something I like quite a bit.

I like how you're not afraid to tell me things that some people might. You don't mind telling me that you are in therapy, that you have been lonely....that you have a vulnerable side.

It seems like we would be able to find things to do together, either just us or with your kids and have fun, laugh and enjoy ourselves. I like the idea of getting to know you.

Is it too soon to start liking all of these things about you? Maybe I should cool my jets until we see each other in person.

Today is September 10, 2014

We have plans to meet this Sunday and yesterday you told me you were looking forward to it. We only know we're going to have linner together so far but that seems a perfect way to start. I offered to meet you half way and you said you didn't mind the drive. I like that it didn't just seem like something you said.

We have a ridiculous amount in common. It's almost strange. Each time we talk, we find more common ground and it's great. I like clicking with someone and when it's a guy that I'm (at least so far) attracted to, that's a bonus.

I like that you mentioned you were appreciative of something I said. Or didn't say. You were talking about your ex and I didn't badmouth her. I don't see a reason to ever do that to anyone really but you happened to notice it about me and thanked me for it. I like that.
_________________________________________________________
When we discovered we both liked fixer-upper shows last night, I asked if you'd been studying my dating profile or taking notes. You said no, but it occurred to me that you might be-maybe something like what I'm doing here. I don't mind. This process was recommended to me by a friend and it's actually been really great. I'm surprised (pleasantly) that I haven't had any red flags or weird feelings about you. That in itself is a little scary I suppose, almost an other shoe will drop kind of thing but maybe both shoes are already on the ground. Realistically optimistic.

I remember once saying that I hoped I could meet someone that actually liked me, just me. That they didn't care if I was overweight or anxiety ridden or that most of my clothes were covered in cat hair. I just really hoped to find someone like that someday. I feel like maybe he might meet that description. I don't know if we're going to hit it off romantically, but right now it doesn't matter. I'm just looking forward to spending time with him and talking with him live and in person. It's been nearly a month since we started chatting and that's a bit long in the dating scene to wait to meet someone. But in our case, I think it's worked out. We've literally chatted every day, said good morning and good night, asked how each other's day has been....EVERY DAY. That's kind of neat. When I talked to a friend about it she commented how she didn't even do that with her husband. In fairness though, they live together and have been married for years.

I mentioned I was realistically optimistic.  I'm cautious too. And I'm listening to myself. My gut is pretty good at judging people or situations but it's not terribly clear right now. I can't figure it out and I'm actually ok with that. It's weird, letting all that 'what if' shit go. Good weird, but weird different. I'm usually freaking out by now and I've pleasantly surprised myself this time by just...letting things happen.

God, please don't let him be a serial killer.

Today is September 14, 2014

You are on your way to pick me up for our first... date? When we started planning, it was 'hanging out' but you've referred to it as a date a couple times over the last week or so. I like that.

I wasn't nervous until this morning when I started to get dressed, trying to figure out what made me look the least fat. I realized then that it didn't matter. I was going to be who I am regardless of what I'm wearing. It's why you wanted to meet after all.

I have heard your voice on the phone now. It's pleasant, normal. I don't know what I expected really but nothing about you has freaked me out so far.

I like how you suggested a ferry ride today. And then lunch on Bainbridge and wandering around window shopping. Perfect way to get to know each other more and it was all your idea.

I like how honest you were yesterday. You told me your day had been kind of shitty and that you were feeling a bit down. I like that you talked to me about why and that you knew that the feeling wouldn't last. I like that you told me one of your struggles is to think about things in the future rather than just the 'now'.

I like that several times you've mentioned that talking to me has solidified what you want in a partner. I like that. Even though you didn't necessarily imply that was me.

I like the excitement and the comfort that I feel about you being on your way to pick me up. I'm nervous, sure. You're someone new. But I'm excited for our adventure. And I feel comfortable talking with you so I know I can be myself and not feel stupid.

I like that you asked if I wanted to make a bracelet. You recently bought one of those loom things and you've been telling me about the bracelets for awhile. I would love to do something like that and you're bringing it. You didn't need to but I like that you asked if I'd be embarrassed if you made them.

I like that even though this is the first time we meet, I know you're going to be on time.

Today is September 15, 2014

We spent the day together yesterday. We wandered in bookstores, toy stores, a chocolate shop and had a delicious lunch at a pub on the water. It was a perfect day, the weather was glorious, we laughed, we shared a comfortable silence...and there was no spark.

I felt like I was hanging out with a friend and I'm not complaining. I suppose I'm a little disappointed if I'm going to be honest. I was hoping that we would have a romantic moment together but it didn't feel like that at all.  I like that I've made a friend that I know I can tell anything to. I like that we're comfortable with each other from the start. I like that we can be honest and not feel like we have to be anything else.

I like that I gave this a shot.

Today is September 20, 2014

We're still talking. Well texting. The whole no phone conversation thing is still a little weird to me. We had a conversation recently that confirmed that the spark wasn't there. Not because of anything specifically said, but because we literally asked each other if that ineffable feeling that we both hope for was had. And it wasn't and that's ok. I think that if you meet the right person, you'll know.

But then, maybe it's something that needs to grow. Maybe time is needed to learn about if we want more.

I don't know. I don't know shit about dating and men and even if someone is interested or not.


Today is October 2, 2014

We went out again. Dinner and a movie and although we had a nice time...it wasn't quite nice enough. I wanted to like him more and I felt hopeful. I felt so comfortable...and there was something about his eyes on the second date that made me find him more attractive. That might have been the wine.

It didn't matter. There is no spark and he was very clear that there wouldn't be. I cried a little. Not even because it was him, but because so much time was invested. So much hope was put in, so much effort and conversation and... He's just not the right guy. That's ok. But fuck it was disappointing. And the lonlies kicked in and I wondered for a bit what might be wrong with me.

Then I remembered nothing was wrong with me, or with him. We just weren't the right people for each other.

Dating sucks.

Morning

Morning

Watching the sun rise

painting triangles across the building front

The leaves are trying to change

summer is almost over and they're ready

I'm ready 

This time of day you can't tell if it's morning or evening, unless you see the clock

Like I do

It goes by so fast, time

100

I've been sitting here for awhile now, watching tv, surfing sites-trying to figure out what kind of amazing entry I can make for such a milestone.

I got nuthin'.

It's Saturday, which means my Friday and I ended my week after an 11 hour day. My feet ache, between my shoulders it's all pinchy and when I get up too pee, I'm bent in half like Quasimoto until I'm halfway down the hall.

I had to have a 'discussion' with a staff member today. One of those conversations where I say things I didn't even know I knew how to say and when I feel like I really am a leader.

I dealt with an asshat. Looking back on why I dubbed him as such...I can't even remember what he said because, really-shit like that doesn't matter.

I thought earlier I might cry but I got through it.

I remember not too long ago feeling very overwhelmed with, well, everything. I couldn't deal with work, or being without J., or my weight gain. I felt like shit. A lot. I didn't even realize how much until I didn't anymore.

I changed my mind about some things. I made a few lifestyle changes and tried not letting my thoughts consume me. I started feeling good about letting things go. Including J. I feel...liberated.

Fall is going to be here soon. Football seems to have started early this year too. And the hype for pumpkin things seems to be in more places. Have they finally commercialized a part of nature?

I miss the water. I really want to go to the ocean and when I get my car it's one of the first places I'm going to go by myself. I can see myself so clearly sitting in the driver's seat, windows down, music-my whatever I want to listen to music- and at night. I want to drive down empty roads until I meet the coastline and then just sit and listen to the waves. I'll get out and sit in the damp sand until the wind makes my face numb from cold and then I'll get back into my car and come home.

Or maybe I'd stay. Transfer the money I'm supposed to be saving for whatever I might need it for and stay in a tiny little motel on the beach. I'd write bad poetry on motel stationery and watch a Lifetime movie I would never watch at home. Oh and I'd take a bath because I won't have to clean it afterwards. Maybe in the morning I'd get up in time to drink bad motel room coffee on a balcony facing a gray sky and ocean. I'd leave a small tip for the maid because my mom taught me too and then I'd get back in my car and come home.

Freedom is going to taste so delicious. I've always felt pretty independent but this...this is going to be different. I'm going to be able to experience things on my own that I never have before. I'm going to be introduced to the newest chapter of who I'll be and that's gonna be neat.

The 100th blog.  Great place to start.

Because I'm Happy

Sometimes, when life is hard...when it throws something at you that you weren't expecting...it's easy to forget the things to be happy for.  I'm going to challenge myself and name at least 50 things that make me happy.

1. Books. Bookstores. The book section in any store. Libraries...The way they smell, the way they feel in my hands while I hold them gently, the way that they stack haphazardly on my shelf. Just knowing that books exist makes me happy. Little rectangles of brilliance.

2. Coffee and conversation with Dad in the morning. It makes me happy to know that we finally have the relationship my mom always hoped we'd have.

3.  The Golden Girls. According to an internet quiz, I'm a 'Rose'.

4. My best girlfriends. I've known Melissa and Anne for over 20 years. We've been through some ridiculous moments together, sad moments, wonderful scary moments and everything in between. When we're all together, there is always laughter.

5. Being at the ocean. I always seem to feel so...free there. I feel rejuvenated and connected to the world when I'm able to visit the ocean. Almost as though if I had wings, I'd be able to fly.

6. Finding the perfect picture. Taking pictures in the city or in nature-both places can hold wonder. But when I get the shot that makes the thousand before worth it, a sense of satisfaction comes over me

7.  Wind Chimes. The sound of a gentle breeze touching wind chimes brings a sense of peace that is almost indescribable. Even if it's only for a moment, the sound resonates inside, rippling through like a stone cast in water.

8.  The first sip of coffee of the day. It is SO good. Hot and steaming and coffee-y.

9. Smiling dogs

10. Knowing all the words to a song (Or finding out the lyrics to a line you always sang kinda mumbly 'cause you didn't know what it really was)  A new favorite or an oldie but goodie...when I can sing along and feel the lyrics, the song means more and stays with me.

11. Finding something I thought was lost. I went through my storage room the other day and found all of the postcards my grandmother had sent to me before she died. I haven't read them yet but I'm so glad to have them again-I thought they'd been ruined.

12.  Thunderstorms.  Boom! Crash! Crack! Heat lightening storms, torrential rain storms...the electricity in the air is fantastic.

13. Helping someone

14. Campfires

15.  Ice cream

16.  Star Wars puns.

17.  When the water is just right. Swimming, shower, bath, rain....doesn't matter. But when it's just the right temperature? Ahhhhh

18.  Hearing a compliment. I know, duh right? But I like hearing compliments when they're for other people too. It's just nice to hear people being nice to other people.

19.  White Cherry Icees.

20.  New socks.

21.  New Stephen King book. I still have Mr. Mercedes on my coffee table, waiting patiently me for me to crack it's spine

22.  A perfectly ripened avocado

23.  Waiting for the curtain to go up

24.  New school supplies

25.  Flowers. Hydrangeas, foxgloves, lilacs, roses, lily of the valley, dandelions, gladiolas, sunflowers, sweet peas, bluebells, daisies, violets, poppies, wildflowers on the side of the freeway...

26.  Fresh baked bread

27.  A child's laugh

28.  Grocery store cart rides

29,  Kitty face nudges

30.  Watching the sun set, or rise

31.  Clicking with someone new. Doesn't matter if its romantic or friendly-that first spark is neat.

32.  Swinging on the swings. Never too old to lean back and look at the trees a little differently.

33.  The wind catching my hair. Or my skirt. Spring and Summer breezes preferred.

34.  Visiting the elephants

35.  Learning something new

36.  Muppets

37.  Ice cold milk with something sweet

38.  The smell of the beach. Salty and cool and that moment when you first get close enough to smell it

39.  The sound of my dad snoring in front of a football game.

40.  Trees. Great, large green branches reaching to the sky and leafy oaks of red, brown and orange.

41.  Old Bugs Bunny cartoons

42.  Quoting a movie line and having someone yell, "I love that movie!"

43.  Wandering in museums

44. Series finales that end well

45.  Clean sheets on naked skin

46.  Balloons floating through a bright blue sky

47.  Hearing a song my mom used to sing to help me sleep. My favorite is Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell. It's a sad happy, but it still counts.

48.  Chocolate

49.  That moment when you finally let yourself be ok with who you really are

50.  Being me.