Sunday, June 14, 2015

never

so maybe ill never be someone that's drop dead gorgeous, or highly talked about and sought after.  so maybe ill never be perfect at everything i touch.  so maybe ill never be rich or wealthy.  so maybe ill never be wearing the "in things" for this season's taxing trend.

maybe i will be awkward and quiet sometimes.  maybe i will be loud and giggly sometimes.  maybe i'll wear whatever's clean and somewhat matches and covers my butt and front parts over having closets full of clothes with price tags still on them from years of neglect.  maybe ill often be alone or hiding from the public eye.

i like being observant and quiet more now than i ever have.  i feel like i miss less.  patience has me slowing down to appreciate what is.... and not worry about what isnt, what could be, and what i am predisposing will happen and destroy the earth.  letting go of toxicity in the forms of people and things has been financially profitable and emotionally profitable.   i care a little less.  i sweat a little more these days but only due to a rise in temperature.  thanks summer!!

so there's that.  slowing down to see things as they are in the present moment and feel grateful that i got to experience it and thankful that it just is.  listening to sounds around me and being so quiet that sometimes it is deafening.  other times you hear some redneck argument in some super southern minnesota town at the drive in waiting for the movie to start.

everything is going to be okay.
i may not be any of those things i previously stated and maybe im not ideal by most standards, but im crafty and clever and resourceful.  im resilient in spite of my weaknesses.  im like a scrappy little dog.... maybe my bark is weak and censored, i will destroy you if you harm anyone i love or even so much as think of treating me like shit and lying.

im learning to slow down and appreciate myself and for the first time in a long time, having no fucks never felt so good.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

later and patience....

i need to get the word LATER out of my vocabulary.
i over-use the SHIT out of that word.... much like the word shit.
every time i set my mind out to do something, i utter the word "later" and it never gets done or it gets done pretty half assed and i have to say as of right now i am behind on a lot of things and very disappointed in myself.

but also i need to make the word PATIENCE my daily mantra. 
no, im not where i need to be right this second, but im headed there. 
im on the right path and going in the right direction.
that's enough for now.

i hate microwaves. 
i mean yes, they are convenient and i am a busy mom and they can come in handy to reheat some leftovers or make my morning oatmeal, but really... they've damaged me personally.
i've been taught to expect things to be immediate.
i find myself mad at this said appliance when it doesnt heat my food up fast enough because i am in such a dangerous hurry to get on with the rest of my life in what free time i have.
i've been taught to grow frustrated with waiting, to grumble and complain when things aren't how i want them, when i want them.

THIS IS NOT LIFE!!!!
NOTHING is seriously that immediate.
i have found myself repeating the word "patience" to myself over and over in situations where i would normally grow impatient and flustered.
in traffic.... while driving.... in line at the store.... while waiting for food to cook....etc

i get frustrated because i put off exercising for "later" and then have zero energy to do more than a bare minimum i set for myself.
i grow impatient with my attempt at eating healthy and getting my ass moving because i don't see immediate results on a scale or in my pants.
i grow impatient with my "lilmommacakes" business cos it isn't busier or better.

seriously.... this is not how anything works.
nothing worthwhile or lasting is ever immediate.
the best and most amazing things take time.

rarely do we as a society or i myself celebrate the small accomplishments and triumphs.
today i started to.

today i got out of bed and went to my doctor appointment.
today i made myself a really healthy breakfast and prepared dinner for myself for tonight when i'm at work so i dont eat crap.
today i did some exercise.
today, inspite of the gloomy weather, i am feeling hopeful and positive for no particular reason other than it is a new day.
today i am remembering that the scale will never tell my worth, only a number.
today i am mindful that everyone is dealing with shit.
today i made the start to a website and made a to do list for my life and my lil business.
today i took my meds.
today im thankful for people in my life and the small steps that have gotten me to where i am right at this moment.
today i remember i'm a work in progress and nothing truly lasting is immediate.

so today im taking positive steps to be more patient and thankful.  today i am also focusing on the word later and trying to let it leave my mouth less often.  the healthy balance of those two worlds will lead to a healthier me.... in time.

Monday, June 8, 2015

i am not a numerical value

i couldnt sleep.  i woke up worried bubba's dad wouldnt bring her raincoat, so i texted him at 345am to ask if he would bring it to my apartment when he dropped her off this morning.  and then it began.  i began looking through photos of girls i knew staring at their waists and thighs and arms.  not in a sexual way but in a judgy way.... like a self-depricating, self-judgy kinda way. 

i got up and began to work out.  not much cos i was in a half awake stupor, but enough that my brain said "hurry up fat ass.  lose weight now.  youre a fat cow." 

bubs and i are going to the kiddie pool at the park today.  i put on a bathing suit and shorts (the one pair that fits) and decided to shut up and stare at my body in the mirror.  im not a fat cow.  im a work in progress.  change is not microwaveable.  we live in a society that is so fixated on instantaneous results and gratification. 

i need to be patient with myself mentally and physically.  i can not condemn myself for eating a bowl of cereal or having a banana.  i can not condemn myself for having a sandwich at a picnic.  i CAN understand that i need to make choices that fuel my body and make it feel energized.  i CAN get up and exercise because it wakes up my body and makes me feel good inside.

these are the changes i need to focus on.  this is what i need to remind myself of as i stare at a pile of size 2 and 3 shorts on my floor that no longer fit.  im not a numerical value.  im a mom.  im a caring and compassionate human.  im creative.  im talented.  im adventurous.  im a person. 

the same grace and kindness and love i extend to others i NEED, i MUST extend to myself.... or this whole life of mine is going to be in vain.  i can't let that happen.

Sunday, June 7, 2015

whiny little crybaby

i dont really read past posts on this thing.  the few times i did, i realized i sounded like kind of a whiny little crybaby.  i kind of sounded like an idiot actually.  each time i'd then post some self reflective nonsense about how i was never going to be that person again.....  only i kept ending up that same little whinypants with a larger vocabulary and different people in said scenarios.

i've been spending a lot of time alone lately.  part of it is that im around people and bubs all week and i just need to decompress which happens to be on the days most people are out n about having a fun life, and the other part is that everyone i know is in a serious relationship moving forward with their lives or partying their brains out.  i cant keep up with either lifestyle.

im about to be 32 next month.  i noticed none of my shorts from last summer fit.  my hips have widened, my ass is a lil rounder, and sometimes i eat like im still pregnant.  i think back to times when those shorts and tank tops DID fit and flatter me.  i was drinking a lot, hardly eating, and doing a lot of damage to my body with the lifestyle i was living.  i wasn't healthy.  not that im remotely healthy now, but i find myself abusing my self esteem merely for not fitting in a pair of fucking shorts.  i blame these hips and this ass and slight double chin of mine for keeping a boyfriend away.  i blame my body size and lethargy for my low self esteem, when in reality it's my own head that is keeping me in seclusion.

what kind of person wants to be around someone that is constantly hurling insults at them?  i wouldnt.  sometimes i fear being alone not because im alone, but because i am SO, SO mean to myself.  until i learn to love myself the way i one day hope to BE loved, im not going to attract any decent humans (or any humans at all) into my life.

i've googled every god damn diet possible, have every "month challenge" fad screenshot onto my phone's gallery and still nothing.  im taught by mainstream media to seek a thigh gap and that size 3 waist i no longer have.  im taught by mainstream media to hate myself for looking the way i do and not being a toned mannequin.

ive come to idolize people like amy schumer and tina fey.  they have made me realize that getting older and being a woman doesn't mean i have to strive for some photoshopped image of my former years.  i need to love the skin im in whether it has stretch marks and a lil sag or is tight and toned.  i will never be a photoshopped cover model.  i dont recall a time when i was ever super stick thin.  even in my most anorexic and unhealthy years, i have not once been all bones like my internal monologue claims i should be.

there comes a point in time where you just need to tell yourself to SHUT UP!!!!
SHUT UP to the lies that i am worth only my weight on a scale.
SHUT UP to the garbage that i need to fit into a size 0-3 to be beautiful.
SHUT UP to the nonsense that no one can love me and want to be around me until im bonier.
it's bullshit.
it always has been and always will be.

so why after decades am i still believing this sick leech and feeding it like some sick rescue pet?
i don't know.
i wish i knew.
i wish i knew why i desire some outward perfection, i type as i realize i've eaten an entire bag of tortilla chips in one day with the words "1200 calorie day meal plan" typed into my google search bar. 

so maybe ive gained some weight.  maybe my hips are widening with age.
maybe my metabolism is slowing and i can no longer eat my weight in nachos on any given sunday.

so what?

im not a number on a scale or on a tag.  im not some size chart letter system that has changed over the years.
i am kelly.
im a quirky, child-like thirty-something who is fed up with being insecure and body conscious. 
for anyone that should judge me by the size of my thighs or waistband or for the mere fact that i have a lil junk in my trunk and jiggle in my middle- FUCK OFF!

i need to start seeing me for me, wholly and truly.
don't get me wrong, i do want to fuel my body better and get more exercise to fight off the lazy behavior i have adapted and help my body and mind fuse in a healthy harmony.  i also want to stop saying the words "fat" and "skinny" in front of my child who now has begun telling me im beautiful when i throw the few clothes that fit from last summer onto the bed in a frustrated heap. 

i don't want to enter 32 as the whiny little crybaby i have been for the past few years.
i am not the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things i say about myself and more than likely, NO ONE ELSE THINKS THEM ABOUT ME BUT ME!!!!  (and if someone does go, "oh that girl is so nasty and fat," then really, do i need them in my life anyway?)

my plan is to get moving: hiking, walking, hopefully some jogging, doing little things at home to keep active, climb trees, and make better food choices, NOT to be acceptable on some letter and number scale every clothing company states as perfection, but to be a healthier version of me, mentally and physically, whether i gain a pound or lose 17. 

i hope this can help someone else.  i know as a woman im not the only one fighting this daily mental battle.  it's definitely the most annoying thing ever how men can be accepted for whatever body theyre in and women have to strive to attain this bare bones, airbrushed picture of perfection. 

im taking off my whinypants and putting on the ones from last summer that are a tiny bit snug and im going to love me as i am, muffin top and all and get back to living life without worrying about who is staring at my lack of a thigh gap.

to quieter thoughts and better days....

Monday, May 4, 2015

the weight is a gift....

no it really isnt.
sometimes i like to believe that people with mental illness have a better view on life, are more appreciative people, more artistic and more grateful.
then there are days like today where i step back and realize that i have been living in a diluted reality.  i have been eating and sleeping in this dark hole of depression, kidding myself that i was in fact not depressed only to realize it now.

it takes one word.  one person leaving me high and dry.  one phrase to remind me.  one look at my giant ass in a storefront window...
then the thoughts come racing and the tears start flowing and suddenly i stop and see a mess in the mirror.  mascara dripping down my cheeks, my eyes red and tired, and my face just worn from sadness.

i see a hollow shell of the vibrant woman i know i am.
suddenly it hits me how tired i am.
im tired from carrying the weight on my own.
im tired from running and pretending to be so strong.
im tired of being alone and misunderstood.
im tired of being rejected and abandoned for not being "normal."

maybe though... maybe the weight really is a gift.
maybe i just cant see it yet.

all i can see is that i make people upset with me for not being able to control my feelings or not being rational.
all i can tell you is that i hurt for some unknown reason and the littlest phrases or silences hurt me in ways i can not even begin to explain.
i wish i knew why.
i wish i knew why i hurt so bad some days.
i wish i k new why i felt so alone and rejected other days.
i wish there were logic for my feelings or a handbook for those brave enough to be close.

anyone that deals with depression knows these feelings and thoughts and i am not a psychopath or a weirdo to them.
i dont like being able to feel on this level and have no control over what i feel.
i hate sleeping beautiful days away because of a mother fucking chemical imbalance.

maybe the weight is really a gift.... for me or for someone else...
i just really dont like dealing with these feelings anymore.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

everyone's a pair

every time i open some aspect of social media, yet another old dating site match, bar hook up, friend, or random acquaintance is hooked up and paired off.  what's really interesting is that most of them have been dating in secret for like months or a year and you never would have even known.

and then there's me.  clumsy, fumbling, verbal diarrhea spewing me.
i just cant seem to say or do the right thing at the right time.
the ones that want to wife me up right away scare me and make me uncomfortable.
the ones that intrigue me that i just want to spend more time with want to take things from a different approach.

with a past full of liars and cheats, how does a girl trust that someone means what they say and really does want to just take things slow?

you spend the morning talking to your sister.
not about your own life.
well okay you TRY to, but everything is a one upper.  her life problems must always trump yours.
but then you realize...
your words are true.
life is beautiful and so short and fast paced.
a full and happy life is waking up every morning and making a conscious choice to face the day as NEW with no ties to your past.

imagine a strong man pulling like a freight train or something.  the speed he can run at without the train is much quicker.  the agony in his face from that weight would be gone if he could let it go.  obviously in one of those competitions you cant let it go or you lose, but you get the point.

why do i hang on to all of the failed and missed opportunities, all of the times that ive been used, ignored, hurt, wronged, abandoned, rejected, lied to, cheated on, etc?  i figured out how to get out of that pattern quick, but now i need to know how to let that all go so i dont end up ruining anything with anyone that does find my nervous quirks adorable, my oddness fascinating, and my friendship necessary.

so what now?  well, i guess i just keep on going as i have been and hoping there will be some silver lining and happy ending.  i guess i just dont worry because ive been fine before this massive outburst of social coupling and i will be fine.  i will be fine.

the past is the past, the now is the now and right now... right now im here and i know people that make me smile and i know i make them smile too.  that's enough for right now.  life needs more smiles.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

watching the trees

i havent written in a while.  possibly because i've been out there living life.... possibly because i didnt feel like it mattered if i did or if i didnt... and maybe partly because i was processing things so quickly for once, that i didn't have time to write it down.

it was like one "a-ha!" moment after another.  synapse after explosive synapse like roman candles in the july night sky.  oooo yeah kel, that was deep.....

anyway... life.  i've been living it.  the more i started just shedding some baggage and weight and worry, it's like i was re-energized and moving at a normal pace.  like when you feed your body junk for like a few weeks or something and then go do something healthy like NOT eat mcdonalds breakfast with a hangover and then try going to a child's birthday party.  your body feels different.  it feels alive and awake and ready to take on everything.  it runs faster, breathes easier, and it is fearless and relentless and .... well, i dont know any other way to put it than alive.

have you ever had that moment?  that one moment when you go from feeling down and sluggish to alive...just like getting that dose of Vitamin D and facing a sunny day with a smile and having it change your current pattern of thinking and your physical state.

id been feeling down, alone, and really dejected.  i know i can chalk a lot of it up to "minnesota winter blues" since it is rarely sunny or acceptable in arctic temperature for what feels like decades, but there was something else.  this feeling of just .... emptiness.  uselessness.  purposeless.  .... BOREDOM.

i wanted something different.  it was like one person after another leading me on and dropping me within the blink of an eye.  i was falling into a pattern, hypnotized by negativity and falling to it's rhythm.  i got so low that i resorted to cutting again.  i felt explosive with pain and hurt and i think it had little to do with a mass amount of super weird rejection after rejection.  that just was like the straw that broke the camel's back.  i wasn't dealing with something or DOING something.

and then there came baking.  there came bringing mummy and monster cupcakes to a potluck at work on halloween for the ball to get rolling.  it went from one small thing to another to another to another.  soon i became possessed by the demon of sugar or something because there i went in a frenzy lusting after new baking equipment, shopping around for good deals on boxes and piping tips.  soon it became about believing in myself that maybe, just maybe i was good at something.

let me stop you right there.  im not saying im not good at anything.  i know i am a smart and weird lady and i really am socially impaired.  i know useless bits of information and often talk about urine sediments and my love for microscopes on many first (and last) dates.  i just felt useless in my life.  like, nothing i was doing beforehand was making me feel good about ME- loving and respecting and appreciating the person i am.  giving myself a little bit of the same grace and kindness i now so freely spread to others, having a sincere passion for SOMETHING.  i always new i was a creative person but im not crafty, i cant draw for poop, and i cant paint or sew or build things.  but i can bake.  there was my "a-ha!" moment.  at the ripe old age of 31, it finally came.

one thing turned into another thing and i realized i was really good at something.  i would go to sleep thinking of recipe ideas and began to problem solve and experiment with new recipes with any bit of free time i had.  my brain started moving with such momentum i had headaches for a few weeks.  i believed in myself and found my worth.  no im not saying my value lies in a delicious cupcake, im just saying .... i had that moment of self actualization where you step back and go, "damn, i am a pretty rad human being."  that self love that you KNOW you have needed so desperately. 

i began to change.  i started standing up for myself, speaking up for myself, and believing in myself.  i know me now.  and that feels good.  i even woke up and felt sad once and made a cake (i gave away) because it made me feel happy and warm again.

i still struggle though.  lately the ol body dysmorphic nonsense has returned, flooding my brain cells.  the one thought that crosses my mind is like this baby of a tumor and the more i listen the larger it grows and now it's like i have brain cancer.  (that was not meant to be insensitive before anyone says a thing.)  it's like, every time i give in i lose a small bit of what id gained.  i have this amazing tenacity and relentlessness though.  i  know my grandmas gave it to me.  not that they're strong and powerful women in the community,  just that... theyre some sassy broads.   they definitely just had some moments when i was growing up where i was like, "damn grams.  you said that?"  sometimes they'd "talk back" to their husbands and stand up for themselves or state the obvious and it would cause this kind of comedic moment of yelling because each wanted to prove the other wrong and it really was grams who was right.    anyway that ramble was just.... my body and mind are fighting back.  they are fighting back with such force i sometimes wake up super drained.  im not quitting or caving or going back to my previous way of life and thinking.  i like where i am now.

there's a weird thing though.  my plants... the two things i neglected and i havent killed.  they keep growing in spite of my negligence.  it's like me... somehow i keep going and growing in spite of my negligence.  i  may not be healthy, just like they were a little withered, but with some care, we all started growing again.  the weird thing though is i kind of feel like they feed off of ME.  whenever im feeling down and awful and just start feeding the negativity and start getting into a slump, their leaves start to turn a weird color, shrivel, and start falling off.  even if i water them, they still do it.  when i start changing and living with positivity and kindness (to others yes, but largely to myself), they begin to sprout new leaves, fresh stems, and stand so tall and proud.  i still forget to water them even though theyre growing... nature of my rambly brain.

i feel free and alive and awake for the first time in a long time.  i legitimately feel alive.  im running with it.  i have ideas and im putting them out there and i have dreams and im working on making them a real thing NOW because NOW is what i have and NOW is all i have.

i legit have prayed to die many times in my life, but this feeling now that i get to live with every day the more i nurture and feed it and live it, makes me so thankful that i never went through with it.  i have an amazing daughter, bubs, i have some pretty rad friends, my life is starting to level out for a change, im pursuing something im good at and like to do, i can actually start selling a lot more cupcakes and treats and it's actually a real thing that is going to happen, and i have me.  im happy.  i know who i am.  i know what i am.  i know that i am worth something.  i have purpose which i hope is not spreading obesity and diabetes...

speaking of rambles, im ending this ramble.  i had another ramble and deleted it.
thanks for reading, friend.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

a sweet little adventure

i can't say that ive ever been really really good at anything.

as a kid i would cling to my solitude and write all damn day.  i would draw and color, but mostly write.  i wrote short stories, children's books, poems, lots and lots of emotastic poems, songs, etc.  i thought i was like some super badass writer. 
and then i quit.

i got super into music and 10 years ago i just moved out here, started playing a bunch of lil shows and recorded an EP and was doing stuff and things and then... i quit.

i was doing bjj and judo and was entering tournaments, training like non stop.  i won a national and state title and was loving it and hating it all at the same time.
so i quit.

i got into medical endeavors and wanted to be a neuroscientist.  i wanted to fix people and delve deeper into the medical field.  then i checked all the physics, chemistry, and calculus classes i would have to take.
and i quit.

i still am a CMA and i still have a limited scope license for xray (some of them).  i still love what i do and am glad i stuck with that. 

over the years i have had so many little things that have piqued my interests here and there and ive thrown myself headfirst into the many brick walls only to suffer a severe concussion and back away slowly on a stretcher.

then i got into baking.  i think the majority of it was when i was pregnant.  my ex and i had our first home and i had a CLEAN kitchen with a nice new oven and plenty of counter space.  at first it was boxed everything and slowly i started following recipes.  after he and i split i literally would be up all night long watching food network cos nothing else seemed entertaining.  i got into cupcake wars and thought... hmm i think i could do that.... what if i did this and this instead of that?  how did they make that tho?  what if i put this and those two things together?  slowly i just really fucking started loving baking.  i love the smells.  i love the colors.  i love the feeling of whisking dry ingredients that are like a fine powder after being sifted into a mixing bowl.  i love the steady metamorphosis as butter slowly turns into a thick creamy consistency.  i love how you can combine so many textures and flavors all into a small cake.  i love learning.  ive learned how to pipe frosting and fix mistakes and play with fondant... i've challenged myself and i just keep wanting to do more.

and slowly people started wanting to buy my cupcakes.  people wanted to buy my cookies.  i was getting a steady stream of requests and people wanted to pay me. 

so here begins my sweet little adventure.  in lieu of going to school (taking one giant step backward, it's the stupider of the smart ideas), i am getting a food safety license and renting some commercial kitchen space.  i am going to seek the help of my tech and art savvy friends for help making a website, help advertising, help with some photos, and help with a logo since ill be allowed to legally sell my goods having taken all of the necessary steps.

one day.... one day when my little venture turns into something bigger and better... i want a tiny little storefront bakery.   i want it open at those later hours when it's like "shit i want some cookies" and crap from the store just wont do.  i want to make a mark in my community and i overall want to show myself that im good at something.  that maybe before all those other things didnt pan out because they werent what i was meant to be doing. 

lately though, i have faced some SERIOUS biting criticisms and while i appreciate the logical ones, there's no need to tear me down.  im not quitting my job and racking up millions in debt on a stupid whim.  im starting small and even aiming small.  im not trying to cure cancer.... just aid in diabetes and smiles.

for once i believe in me tho.  i hate that for the very first time that i do, i seem to be standing here all by myself.  maybe to some it's a "stupid dream" of owning a little bakery.  sure it's stupid to "hope that one day cupcakes will pay my bills."  but these are my dreams to dream and my steps to take.  i dont have any clairvoyant friends that know whether this will succeed or fail.  so for now, my little pipe dream is picking up speed and my very lengthy timeline is being shortened daily.  i think my sweet little dream is safe for now and im going to keep going deeper in whether im standing there alone at the end or not. 

Thursday, January 8, 2015

insomnia with a dash of anxiety

i was woken up by miss picklecat wanting to be pet and have me be big spoon.
when she'd had enough attention, off she went leaving me in a half awake stupor.
so naturally, i reached for my phone to see what excitement i missed overnight.

i dont know if it's technology, the constant blur of being involved in peoples' lives via words and pictures on a website, or the fact that my brain can take one person's successes and turn it into a downward spiral of hurtful comments toward myself, but here i am, 550am, wide awake, hating myself.

now, don't get me wrong, i do have the most ridiculous anxiety and am still working on it.  i deal with depression, ocd, and a very obvious case of adhd.  i take my meds for the above clinical diagnoses when i remember, but sometimes.... sometimes moments like these are far beyond medications.  moments like these are where i need to talk myself down off the ledge and just go back to bed.

but it's hard right now.
it's hard because i feel like a failure.
i worry about money.
i hate my body.
i worry im not good enough.
i worry about days and months from now with made up scenarios.
i think im alone.
i think im forgotten.
i hate the life i have and wish i had someone else's instead.

but here is the danger.... the pitfall of a culture obsessed with social media. 
we only put things out there we want people to see (unless youre me who has no fucks left and literally just spills every personal ounce of her life onto the interwebs even stuff dealing with bowel movements).
we delete the photos where we have a double chin, a fat roll, or where a few hairs are out of place.
we post the fun stories, the success stories, the vacation and concert pictures, our triumphs and our winning moments.
very rarely do we see someone as they truly are.

so yes, while i shouldnt compare myself to anyone (let's be real tho... we all compare ourselves to SOMEONE or SOMETHING else even if it's a former version of ourselves), i am flooded with images and stories where that is all i can do.  easy solution would be to read a book and get the fuck off the internet.  easy solution would be to know the truth about the internet..... but with lovely mental diagnoses such as mine, that isn't always the easiest solution.

so, it's nealy 6am, i'm tired, i feel sad, and utterly alone.
there's more behind those feelings than i am letting on right now but im thirsty and want some apple juice.  also picklecat put her tail right on top of my backspace key and i feel a little bad smushing it when im trying to correct an error.

all i can say is send some good thoughts.  i hate these moments where deep down i know better but the surface level, immediate kelly is just not embracing the whole and full truth, getting full on candy instead of nutrients.  this will pass since it does not fill, but i am not ready to experience the gut rot.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

the voices...

with depression, anxiety, ocd, and adhd.... medicated or not, some days are just better than others.  strange things like the weather and temperature and the color of the sky actually does have a major impact on these mental illnesses.

while my medication is good at taking care of my symptoms most days, there are a few days out of the month where it just isn't enough... where the voices in my head get so loud and so hard to ignore.

i've come a very long way in the past few months.  normally i wouldn't chalk a few months up to a victory, but i'm starting to see that if i don't.... if i give in to the lie of "well, it's only been a month, so there's not enough evidence you really can do this" or if i give in to the lies that plague my brain, "you're small.... you're irrelevant... no one likes you... you're alone... you're horrible... you're fat.... you're really ugly.... no one really likes you.... you're invisible... people wish you'd disappear... you have nothing relevant to say.... you're so stupid.... you're worthless... you're better off hiding out so you can spare people from having to put up with you...."  then im back where i began.

in november, that was the last time i cut myself.  it was probably the time that i cut myself the worst... so bad i left visible scars.  i had 53 and now im down to 3 dark ones and about 10 faded ones.  i wouldn't say i was knocking on death's door... i was mostly fed up, not sure how to release any of what i was feeling and thought cutting would be like puncturing a small hole in an already too full balloon to release some air before it would burst.

since then, i have been trying really hard to notice when my symptoms are in a place beyond where my meds have the ability to help.  the past few days have been such a place.  i noticed myself unconsciously giving in to these self defeating, negative, very self depricating thoughts.  i even voiced a lot of these statements out loud.  the horrified look on some peoples' faces made me realize that i was once again doing it.  i was becoming the victim.  i was becoming the captive to these abusive and commanding thoughts. 

i'm not a victim.  i'm a victor.
i'm not helpless.  i'm strong.
i'm not a captive.  i'm free.

i have to remember these things daily... especially days like today and  the past few days. 
it's ok to let myself cry a little to release some of the imaginary inflation.  it's ok to tell myself out loud that these thoughts are insane and i'm better than this.  it's ok to vent on a public forum or on a scrap of paper in private.

so that's what im doing right here... enjoying a cup of delicious coffee, staring out at the cold, bleak morning that i soon have to encounter to head off to work, reminding myself that i am not the following:

-hated
-stupid
-worthless
-invisible
-a failure
-alone
-fat
-ugly
-boring

and that i AM the following:

-strong
-funny
-smart
-brave
-silly
-loved
-welcomed
-kind
-beautiful
-alive

i think that last part is key.  im still here for a reason.  im alive, in this new year, with this glorious mash up of mental illnesses that i once let control and rule every moment of every day for me.  these thoughts do not control me.  these illnesses do not have power over me.  yes, some days my medication isn't strong enough... but sometimes in battle, guns arent enough and you end up in hand to hand combat.  sometimes mere opinions are not enough and you need facts and proof to back it up.  sometimes one instrument is not enough and you need a whole symphony.

today is yet another day i am taking control of my life and my thoughts and i am going to be thankful for today.  thankful that im alive.  thankful for the people that are in my life that I CHOOSE to be there.  it's MY CHOICE who is in my life and if people don't like me, i don't need that negativity there anyway.

today i am choosing to live in gratitude and kindness and love.  thank you dear friends for being in my life in spite of all of my hang ups and for encouraging me and supporting me along the way.

love and hugs and happy stuff.
kelly
-

Friday, January 2, 2015

far from perfect...

....that's how i would sum up my life.
far from perfect, far from ideal.

my life as a single mom in the past 3 years and a bit has been one crazy whirlwind....
and at 31, i have to say that it is far from what i would have ever called my ideal, perfect scenario.

im broke.
most of my bills are behind.
i hardly ever go out.
i miss every show i want to go to.
the number of friends i have is dwindling because of my schedule.
im usually quite stressed or exhausted due to my job and then coming home to take care of bubs and picklecat and cook and clean up after all of us.
i am the worst possible person to give any remote amount of alcohol to.
i'm not the first person sought after on a friday night.
i havent been on a proper date in god knows how long because, who wants to date a mom?
i don't receive many texts or phone calls.
i basically have to bother people to hang out with me sometimes because my schedule is always wonky.
im scatterbrained as all heck.

but in the midst of accepting solitude and quiet....
in the subtle moments where i have a load on my plate and im not sure how im gonna carry it all...
there's this little monkey-girl smiling at me, hugging me, telling me im a beautiful mom and that she loves me.
she shows off for me and wants my undivided attention.
shes imaginative and beautiful and smart and kind.
she needs me and she loves me just as much as i need and love her too.

so you see, while my life is far from perfect, far from any dream scenario i would have ever wanted or chosen or thought up for myself... this is the life i have.  these are the cards i was dealt.  i could be a sour puss and just throw em in and call it quits... but i dont.  that silly giggle of hers keeps me going.  i put on my tight lipped poker face and go all in. 
that amazing feeling i get when she hugs me is enough to refuel my empty tank.

no my life is not a random adventurefest full of all of the amazing punk rock shenanigans, but it is full of more love than most know, more laughter and smiles and fun quirky moments than most experience in a lifetime.  and while most of these are small....so small that most people would ignore them and pass them up as mere fragments of dust, these are the memories and moments that i look forward to, that keep me going, and that make my far from perfect, far from ideal life pretty damn amazing after all.