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.
Sunday, June 14, 2015
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.
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.
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....
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
-
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
coming to some serious terms
the year's almost over. i never thought id be MORE thankful for a year to end in my life. seriously.
this year has brought more headaches and drama than i would like to admit dealing with.
this year has brought so many people in and out of my life you'd think i had a revolving door attached to me.
this year has brought so many challenges and hardships that i would love to say i faced head on, but alas, i can not.
i cracked.
i caved.
i failed.
i buckled.
you guys, i came to terms with some really important information:
I AM HUMAN.
i can NOT handle everything.
i need help sometimes.
i can only handle so much before it is just too much.
even machinery has weight limits... i don't know why i thought i could bear the weight of the world and then some on my very frail shoulders.
i would like to say that my cracking and caving did not amount to much damage, but it did.
i wanted to die.
i cut myself worse than i have ever in my 31 years of existing.
i hated myself in every aspect possible and isolated myself from a lot of people.
i made poor choices with my life and my health.
i can say i didnt put bubs first like i always strive to.
but im walking away at the end of this year an amazingly strong woman.
i've found my voice.
i've found an acceptance with myself that i never fully had before.
my head feels clear and focused.
i've cut dramatic and stupid people out of my life.
i've learned to make peace with a lot of situations and live in a mindset of peace and love.
do i have bad days?
sure do.
are there days that my depression and anxiety take over?
sure are.
i'm able to manage them now. finally.
i'm learning how to change my pattern of thinking from self destructive to healthy.
i can honestly say that i am looking forward to this new year. it is going to be drastically different.
now if only my liz lemon-like luck with the male gender would change... haha
i gotta have at least one disasterous yet humorous aspect to my life tho.... come on now...
this year has brought more headaches and drama than i would like to admit dealing with.
this year has brought so many people in and out of my life you'd think i had a revolving door attached to me.
this year has brought so many challenges and hardships that i would love to say i faced head on, but alas, i can not.
i cracked.
i caved.
i failed.
i buckled.
you guys, i came to terms with some really important information:
I AM HUMAN.
i can NOT handle everything.
i need help sometimes.
i can only handle so much before it is just too much.
even machinery has weight limits... i don't know why i thought i could bear the weight of the world and then some on my very frail shoulders.
i would like to say that my cracking and caving did not amount to much damage, but it did.
i wanted to die.
i cut myself worse than i have ever in my 31 years of existing.
i hated myself in every aspect possible and isolated myself from a lot of people.
i made poor choices with my life and my health.
i can say i didnt put bubs first like i always strive to.
but im walking away at the end of this year an amazingly strong woman.
i've found my voice.
i've found an acceptance with myself that i never fully had before.
my head feels clear and focused.
i've cut dramatic and stupid people out of my life.
i've learned to make peace with a lot of situations and live in a mindset of peace and love.
do i have bad days?
sure do.
are there days that my depression and anxiety take over?
sure are.
i'm able to manage them now. finally.
i'm learning how to change my pattern of thinking from self destructive to healthy.
i can honestly say that i am looking forward to this new year. it is going to be drastically different.
now if only my liz lemon-like luck with the male gender would change... haha
i gotta have at least one disasterous yet humorous aspect to my life tho.... come on now...
Monday, December 8, 2014
can we just seriously end the body shaming trend?
i have a new food addiction.... trail mix. the ones with the m&ms of course cos why the fuck else would you even EAT trail mix.
grabbing a handful and pouring the contents of that handful (or two or three cos my hands are small) onto the kitchen table suddenly had me feeling guilty.
"how much did i eat today?"
"what did i eat today?"
"should i really be eating this?"
"im eating way more than a serving size."
"wanna know why you have rolls and no one else does? cos you eat too much."
mind you i was still trying to finish my egg sandwich from breakfast at work at like 1pm, but still. no matter what i eat or how little i eat.... putting any food in front of my face always provokes that train of thought....
"why don't you exercise you lazy fatty?"
"people make fun of how huge i am. i should probably not go outside."
"don't eat tomorrow. you dont deserve it."
"you're gigantic."
forget putting on clothes and going in front of the mirror. regardless of what the tag says i just see a chunk. i am terrified of being naked or in a bathing suit most of the time because i am seriously so afraid of what i look like... i have no CLUE what i really look like.
and then... then i have women that to me, in my scope of vision and mental processing, are SO thin and beautiful and i would KILL BABY SEALS to look like them, purging, on diets, exercising more hours a day than they work, taking diet pills, abusing laxatives, starving themselves...
they think they look horrible.
they think they are fat.
then there are women that are naturally just thin. would you believe that even THEIR body types are shamed as not being curvy enough or shapely enough???
WHAT THE FUCKING HELL????
this abstract view of "beautiful" and "perfect" forced at women is just so fucking unhealthy. none of it even makes a damn ounce of sense. so if youre thin without curves, you're not beautiful, but on the flip side if you have curves but arent fit, you're also not beautiful.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?????
where do you draw the line and say enough is enough? when do you just throw your hands up and say "i quit!"? when do you just STOP??
i don't want to spend my life micromanaging my food intake. i don't want to spend more time counting calories than making memories. i don't want to feed my mind and soul negative thoughts. i dont want to train my mind to think negatively toward myself.
i DO want to be kind and loving and generous and happy. i DO want to spread joy and peace and smiles wherever i go. i DO want to fill my soul with goodness and peace. i DO want my mind to think clearly and positively.
it will never happen the more i subject my physical self to these outlandish ideals of beauty. how much money women waste (AND EVEN MEN TOO) on trying to be beautiful and the perfect specimen to somehow snag an admirer. somehow if our bodies are "perfect" and our hair is "perfect" and our clothes are "perfect" and flattering our "perfect" bodies ever so "perfectly," then we have arrived and made it and life can begin.
no.
no, it never will.
that focus will always be there... that focus on the outward.
so much time and energy spent on some ideal that means nothing.
i've been on the yo yo diets and had the eating disorders before. i got myself down to my "goal weight" and looking back at photographs, i just looked sick and empty.
i have no clue what my body looks like now and i wish for a minute i could stop obsessing about it.
some days i don't care, but others... others when i eat food and my spirit feels happy, it's the one major part of my old negative self that loves to come shit all over my birthday cake and rain on my parade.
im tired of eating soggy shit cake.
let's just ignore the outward and make our inner selves more radiant by the day.
let's stop seeing people for their asses and thighs and stomachs.
let's start seeing how beautiful someone is for who they are and how they treat others.
i'm just so sick of this body shaming shit.
i know so many "perfect" women that have the personality of a wet diaper or a moldy carrot.
i know many "larger" women that are so amazing and radiant and beautiful.
it's time to just focus on what matters... and it definitely isn't the number written on the tag of your jeans.
no more soggy shit cake parades.
grabbing a handful and pouring the contents of that handful (or two or three cos my hands are small) onto the kitchen table suddenly had me feeling guilty.
"how much did i eat today?"
"what did i eat today?"
"should i really be eating this?"
"im eating way more than a serving size."
"wanna know why you have rolls and no one else does? cos you eat too much."
mind you i was still trying to finish my egg sandwich from breakfast at work at like 1pm, but still. no matter what i eat or how little i eat.... putting any food in front of my face always provokes that train of thought....
"why don't you exercise you lazy fatty?"
"people make fun of how huge i am. i should probably not go outside."
"don't eat tomorrow. you dont deserve it."
"you're gigantic."
forget putting on clothes and going in front of the mirror. regardless of what the tag says i just see a chunk. i am terrified of being naked or in a bathing suit most of the time because i am seriously so afraid of what i look like... i have no CLUE what i really look like.
and then... then i have women that to me, in my scope of vision and mental processing, are SO thin and beautiful and i would KILL BABY SEALS to look like them, purging, on diets, exercising more hours a day than they work, taking diet pills, abusing laxatives, starving themselves...
they think they look horrible.
they think they are fat.
then there are women that are naturally just thin. would you believe that even THEIR body types are shamed as not being curvy enough or shapely enough???
WHAT THE FUCKING HELL????
this abstract view of "beautiful" and "perfect" forced at women is just so fucking unhealthy. none of it even makes a damn ounce of sense. so if youre thin without curves, you're not beautiful, but on the flip side if you have curves but arent fit, you're also not beautiful.
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?????
where do you draw the line and say enough is enough? when do you just throw your hands up and say "i quit!"? when do you just STOP??
i don't want to spend my life micromanaging my food intake. i don't want to spend more time counting calories than making memories. i don't want to feed my mind and soul negative thoughts. i dont want to train my mind to think negatively toward myself.
i DO want to be kind and loving and generous and happy. i DO want to spread joy and peace and smiles wherever i go. i DO want to fill my soul with goodness and peace. i DO want my mind to think clearly and positively.
it will never happen the more i subject my physical self to these outlandish ideals of beauty. how much money women waste (AND EVEN MEN TOO) on trying to be beautiful and the perfect specimen to somehow snag an admirer. somehow if our bodies are "perfect" and our hair is "perfect" and our clothes are "perfect" and flattering our "perfect" bodies ever so "perfectly," then we have arrived and made it and life can begin.
no.
no, it never will.
that focus will always be there... that focus on the outward.
so much time and energy spent on some ideal that means nothing.
i've been on the yo yo diets and had the eating disorders before. i got myself down to my "goal weight" and looking back at photographs, i just looked sick and empty.
i have no clue what my body looks like now and i wish for a minute i could stop obsessing about it.
some days i don't care, but others... others when i eat food and my spirit feels happy, it's the one major part of my old negative self that loves to come shit all over my birthday cake and rain on my parade.
im tired of eating soggy shit cake.
let's just ignore the outward and make our inner selves more radiant by the day.
let's stop seeing people for their asses and thighs and stomachs.
let's start seeing how beautiful someone is for who they are and how they treat others.
i'm just so sick of this body shaming shit.
i know so many "perfect" women that have the personality of a wet diaper or a moldy carrot.
i know many "larger" women that are so amazing and radiant and beautiful.
it's time to just focus on what matters... and it definitely isn't the number written on the tag of your jeans.
no more soggy shit cake parades.
Sunday, November 30, 2014
can it please just be about something OTHER than sex???
literally i am getting so sick of meeting new people.... and by people i mean guys.... and by meeting i mean like wasting my time trying to get to know someone in an attempt to have a meaningful thing with another person....
is the world entirely sex crazed? what happened to a guy being a gentleman and like honestly wanting to get to know a girl they asked out? i mean seriously... do you know how many scarves i could have crocheted in the few hours i spent watching you get drunk, flatter yourself, and try to get down my pants? i hate going to the gym and using energy i dont have with physical activities, so what makes you think i would like to waste any of my miniscule amount of energy slapping your hands away from my crotch or getting your hands off of the back of my head in an attempt to have me put your erect penis in my mouth?
seriously.
it makes me feel small and worthless and ugly.
i dont feel proud looking at myself.
i mean, inside i know im worth more than this horrible treatment but it seems that this is what is desired and acceptable.
im smart.
i think im pretty ok looking most days.
im quirky.
i am pretty damn talented.
im a lot more kind and generous than i ought to be.
im interesting.
i care a lot more than i should for people.
i mean literally if you just want a mute female to suck your dick and get you off.... there's like dolls for that shit. go get a fucking prostitute and pay her to shut up.
i can have sex with a rando. i can get a fuck buddy im sure.
i dont want that.
i want someone to like and respect me for me.
i want someone who wants to actually get to know me and wont run away at the first sign of imperfection or flaw.
i want someone who isnt afraid of my bad days.
i want someone who will let me in on their bad days too.
i want someone to talk to.... to be a nerdy and dorky best friend with ...
the sex will come.... when it's meant to.
and it will be so much better because it wont be about a 5 star performance that makes all the porn youve ever watched pale in comparison.... it'll actually mean something.
so i beg of you male gender.... can it please just for once not be about sex and be about meaning? for the love of GOD if anyone is out there that isnt just out for copious amounts of sex.... comment below because im losing hope that there is a solid and decent male left out there.
yeah this sort of shitty interaction with the male gender gives me time to focus on me and baking and my amazing lady friends but... sometimes i just selfishly want someone to care about and someone to care about me back.
is the world entirely sex crazed? what happened to a guy being a gentleman and like honestly wanting to get to know a girl they asked out? i mean seriously... do you know how many scarves i could have crocheted in the few hours i spent watching you get drunk, flatter yourself, and try to get down my pants? i hate going to the gym and using energy i dont have with physical activities, so what makes you think i would like to waste any of my miniscule amount of energy slapping your hands away from my crotch or getting your hands off of the back of my head in an attempt to have me put your erect penis in my mouth?
seriously.
it makes me feel small and worthless and ugly.
i dont feel proud looking at myself.
i mean, inside i know im worth more than this horrible treatment but it seems that this is what is desired and acceptable.
im smart.
i think im pretty ok looking most days.
im quirky.
i am pretty damn talented.
im a lot more kind and generous than i ought to be.
im interesting.
i care a lot more than i should for people.
i mean literally if you just want a mute female to suck your dick and get you off.... there's like dolls for that shit. go get a fucking prostitute and pay her to shut up.
i can have sex with a rando. i can get a fuck buddy im sure.
i dont want that.
i want someone to like and respect me for me.
i want someone who wants to actually get to know me and wont run away at the first sign of imperfection or flaw.
i want someone who isnt afraid of my bad days.
i want someone who will let me in on their bad days too.
i want someone to talk to.... to be a nerdy and dorky best friend with ...
the sex will come.... when it's meant to.
and it will be so much better because it wont be about a 5 star performance that makes all the porn youve ever watched pale in comparison.... it'll actually mean something.
so i beg of you male gender.... can it please just for once not be about sex and be about meaning? for the love of GOD if anyone is out there that isnt just out for copious amounts of sex.... comment below because im losing hope that there is a solid and decent male left out there.
yeah this sort of shitty interaction with the male gender gives me time to focus on me and baking and my amazing lady friends but... sometimes i just selfishly want someone to care about and someone to care about me back.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
a few little wishes
i wish i were beautiful.
some days i look in the mirror and just hate what stares back at me.
i can only see what ive heard....
fat
lazy
ugly
stupid
worthless
loser
boring
not quite this or that
weird
weak
chubby
uninteresting
unimpressive
tired
disgusting
not attractive
selfish
mean
bitchy
horrible
gigantic
this is just a small list.
there's days i wish i could see what some of the kinder people in my life tell me i am....
beautiful
talented
creative
a good mom
giving
loving
funny
smart
pretty
thoughtful
inspiring
strong
brave
more than enough
i wonder if i could actually see that im beautiful and believe it.... how my life would be different.
i wonder if i wasnt so focused on nit picking at my flaws, if i learned to love the skin and body i am in and love the person that i know i am, how drastically different things would be.
one day i want to wake up and not hate myself.
one day i want to be able to eat food and not be afraid of the fact that i may not have burned all of the calories i took in.
one day i want to know that i am kind and generous and loving.
one day i want to be so sure of these things that all of the negativity would fall to the wayside and i'd finally be free.
one day i want to believe in myself so much that i would never be back in this place....
this place where i hide from meeting new people because im afraid of what they think of me...
where i dont eat in front of people i dont know because im afraid of what they think of me...
where i dont tear apart my closet thinking i look like a balloon float in the macy's thanksgiving day parade....
where i can just love and accept me for me ....
one day ill be free of this....
i just wish that one day would hurry up.
some days i look in the mirror and just hate what stares back at me.
i can only see what ive heard....
fat
lazy
ugly
stupid
worthless
loser
boring
not quite this or that
weird
weak
chubby
uninteresting
unimpressive
tired
disgusting
not attractive
selfish
mean
bitchy
horrible
gigantic
this is just a small list.
there's days i wish i could see what some of the kinder people in my life tell me i am....
beautiful
talented
creative
a good mom
giving
loving
funny
smart
pretty
thoughtful
inspiring
strong
brave
more than enough
i wonder if i could actually see that im beautiful and believe it.... how my life would be different.
i wonder if i wasnt so focused on nit picking at my flaws, if i learned to love the skin and body i am in and love the person that i know i am, how drastically different things would be.
one day i want to wake up and not hate myself.
one day i want to be able to eat food and not be afraid of the fact that i may not have burned all of the calories i took in.
one day i want to know that i am kind and generous and loving.
one day i want to be so sure of these things that all of the negativity would fall to the wayside and i'd finally be free.
one day i want to believe in myself so much that i would never be back in this place....
this place where i hide from meeting new people because im afraid of what they think of me...
where i dont eat in front of people i dont know because im afraid of what they think of me...
where i dont tear apart my closet thinking i look like a balloon float in the macy's thanksgiving day parade....
where i can just love and accept me for me ....
one day ill be free of this....
i just wish that one day would hurry up.
Saturday, November 15, 2014
little bit of self pity
there are these few small moments, when im home alone at nite, usually after some friend leaves, where i feel strangely sad and alone. alone to the point where i want to lash out at people or just cry. i say i like alone time. i say i need it. i say that i truly want it and dont mind it.
but i do.
i do mind it.
i dont always like it.
i dont like feeling like a pit-stop on someone's nite of fun.
i dont like feeling like an obligation to be kept.
i just want to know someone wants to be here and be weird with me.
maybe not rush me out or rush out to leave.
it's a pathetic little pity cry.
just had to let it out somewhere.
but i do.
i do mind it.
i dont always like it.
i dont like feeling like a pit-stop on someone's nite of fun.
i dont like feeling like an obligation to be kept.
i just want to know someone wants to be here and be weird with me.
maybe not rush me out or rush out to leave.
it's a pathetic little pity cry.
just had to let it out somewhere.
Sunday, November 9, 2014
bare bones
this may be as honest as i will ever be and i am not posting this all over the place just yet cos i don't really want certain people being able to read this since i know they just don't understand about mental illness.
i knew something was wrong from a very early age. i was always nervous, anxious, and afraid. i was afraid of being left. at 3, my parents divorced in a very violent way that i happened to witness. after that, my mom started seeing someone that truly was an amazing friend to have. he taught me to read, we built pillow forts, made radio shows, went to the park... he was perfect except for his closeted alcoholism. being 4, i didn't know what a budweiser can looked like, but one day, i went into this drawer on a book shelf of mine and noticed it was full of crushed up beer cans. i told my mom because i didn't know what these were. that's when things got weird. we had to change the locks. my mom was always out on dates and my sister and i were left with babysitters that would put "all my children" and other various soap operas on for us. i would vomit on the way to kindergarten every morning on this same tree by the playground. i never felt safe. my dad and grandmother were always telling me how horrible my mom was and in turn, my mom would always tell me how awful my dad was. i felt alone. we moved around a bit and i was always the fat new kid with no friends. when i did get friends, they didn't like me enough i guess, and one day in my early pre-teen years, they ganged up, came to my house, barged in and just started telling me how fat i was and how horrible of a person i was. so we moved again. i got in fights with boys, fights with my new step dad, fist fights with my sister...
i never wanted to leave the house but i didnt want to stay there either. i retreated into my mind and was at home with music and movies. then my mom and her husband got super into jesus stuff and that was pretty much the life i was forced to lead.
this is where shit is so ass backward. here i was, a fat kid with like no friends except for some kids my mom dubbed "satanic" because they had different colored hair, were gay, and liked nirvana but accepted me for me and i was forced to follow this jesus lifestyle because i was depressed.... depressed to the point where i thought of death every night. in fact, i would pray to this jesus to take my life every night at bedtime. i would cry myself to sleep after taking a few tylenol pm just in hopes that i would slip away unnoticed. it never worked. i thought about cutting but i was too afraid of blood. i made friends in church group so i decided to play the game and "live for christ" and all that jazz. i never understood it. i never "got" it. i never felt this "all consuming love" of "father god" or anything like that. i felt like the misunderstood fat kid that just wanted to go have fun with some friends and be weird.
needless to say i ended up at a bible college, still as morbidly depressed as when i was 13. i would spend hours in chat rooms on AOL when that was the new thing, talking to people that had no idea who i was or what i looked like simply because there, in this stupid and pathetic cyber world, there was no concept of being super mean and cruel. i would sit in the playground on the back 40 acres at the college and take a key to the bookstore i worked at and scrape my skin til it was raw and i saw specks of blood. i was always doing something wrong. i was constantly "sinning" and i was miserable and not good enough for these christian people or god himself.
after a long line of lonely nights in sadness, repeating the same behaviors and pleas for death while i tried to sleep off the melancholy feelings, something snapped..... i started drinking. i was thinner, guys liked me and i could drink. this only masked the issue for a short while and i found myself subletting an apartment from a friend while he was in japan, asleep in his bed with a knife and a bottle of rum. i woke up the next morning and decided i needed to find some purpose or something.... not sure what i found except my ex... that was the most destructive 4 years of my life resulting in a beautiful child but a whole mess of feelings.
you see, i was always accused of cheating.... always. he could flirt with girls right in front of me but if i let a guy buy me a drink at a bar because i looked sad or was having trouble getting the bartender's attention, i was immediately accused of attempting to fuck said stranger. i was told how fat i was after i gave birth. i was accused of cheating if i wanted to look pretty and dress nice.
so after we split, i went back to what i knew.... drinking and sex. a few drugs were mixed in this time. it numbed me right up.... until i had to move to the burbs to get away from being broken into. this is when my sadness peaked again. i felt alone and sad and empty. until i started drinking again of course. i moved back to uptown, found people to drink with and go to shows with, and spent my time masking my pain with sex and booze.
it leads me to where i am now... years later i still am not sure if i am fat, thin, normal, or what have you. i have no idea if i am cute or pretty or ugly. i have no idea really what i like to do or where my personality goes sometimes. i put myself in terrible relationships that are no good for me because im used to being used and only being talked to for sex and nothing more. i cant drink anymore just cos it did me wrong a few times over the summer and im pretty over it.... i think everyone is only going to be around me for a short time and can't wait to escape and leave me. it leads to horrible thinking patterns. it causes me to behave in a way that is so irrational and leaves me scratching my own head wondering what in the fuckity fuck i am really doing....
and then there's my kiddo. i dont want her growing up following my same path. i want her to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is lovely and amazing and worth more than what anyone says to her... that she deserves more than some wishy washy, coward of a guy that is afraid of a committed relationship because he thinks she's a psycho like all of his ex's that just used him and cheated on him. i want her to be sure and confident and aware and kind with no doubt in her words, actions, or steps. i want for her all of the things i hope to find for myself.
last week i was in the pit of despair and actually took a dull steak knife and cut up the top of my forearm. i did it repeatedly because i was not thinking rationally, not sleeping, had a change in my medication, had a seasonal change occurring, and just felt... out of control mentally. needless to say, it scared someone away, drew a few friends closer, and set me on this path of really needing to get my shit sorted before it's too late.
and let me specify here that i did not want to die... i felt like a balloon so full of air and pressure that i would pop unless some of the pressure was released.... 55 slashes later... im shaking my head at some itchy scabs and scar tissue...
so now i have therapy every week, i am trying to find a healthy balance with my meds, and i have to go to DBT once a week for 6-9 months. DBT is dialectal behavioral therapy. this is basically teaching me new coping and thinking skills for when my brain runs off on an irrational tangent.
i dont expect said person to speak to me again honestly. im sure how i was speaking and acting was scary. im grateful for the friends that stuck by me and loved me and encouraged me to get help. i decided it was time to decorate and organize and downsize my little apartment and even begin a venture of selling my delicious cupcakes for some extra $$.
every day is hard, but every day is a little easier than the last. sometimes i wake up at night and just feel alone and rejected and sad. but morning comes every day and i force myself out of bed. im forcing myself to be productive with my time and explore hobbies and talents that i put on the backburner.
so, im exposing all of myself, bare bones and all to you whoever it is that is reading this. i will post updates here and there to let you know how DBT and therapy are going, how cupcake sales are going, and how healthy i am getting day by day.
in all of this i hope to be able to think more clearly and not assume someone is untrustworthy until they prove me wrong.
i hope to be able to find myself beautiful and not have that be determined by a pants size or a fat roll.
i hope to love myself in the same manner i love others.
i hope to speak kindly to myself in the same manner i speak to others.
i hope to be free and rid of this negative weight that has just been here for far too long.
it's been 5 days today since i last cut myself. it's been 5 days today since i spent an entire day in bed, sad, and crying. hooray for 5 days and onto many more.
i knew something was wrong from a very early age. i was always nervous, anxious, and afraid. i was afraid of being left. at 3, my parents divorced in a very violent way that i happened to witness. after that, my mom started seeing someone that truly was an amazing friend to have. he taught me to read, we built pillow forts, made radio shows, went to the park... he was perfect except for his closeted alcoholism. being 4, i didn't know what a budweiser can looked like, but one day, i went into this drawer on a book shelf of mine and noticed it was full of crushed up beer cans. i told my mom because i didn't know what these were. that's when things got weird. we had to change the locks. my mom was always out on dates and my sister and i were left with babysitters that would put "all my children" and other various soap operas on for us. i would vomit on the way to kindergarten every morning on this same tree by the playground. i never felt safe. my dad and grandmother were always telling me how horrible my mom was and in turn, my mom would always tell me how awful my dad was. i felt alone. we moved around a bit and i was always the fat new kid with no friends. when i did get friends, they didn't like me enough i guess, and one day in my early pre-teen years, they ganged up, came to my house, barged in and just started telling me how fat i was and how horrible of a person i was. so we moved again. i got in fights with boys, fights with my new step dad, fist fights with my sister...
i never wanted to leave the house but i didnt want to stay there either. i retreated into my mind and was at home with music and movies. then my mom and her husband got super into jesus stuff and that was pretty much the life i was forced to lead.
this is where shit is so ass backward. here i was, a fat kid with like no friends except for some kids my mom dubbed "satanic" because they had different colored hair, were gay, and liked nirvana but accepted me for me and i was forced to follow this jesus lifestyle because i was depressed.... depressed to the point where i thought of death every night. in fact, i would pray to this jesus to take my life every night at bedtime. i would cry myself to sleep after taking a few tylenol pm just in hopes that i would slip away unnoticed. it never worked. i thought about cutting but i was too afraid of blood. i made friends in church group so i decided to play the game and "live for christ" and all that jazz. i never understood it. i never "got" it. i never felt this "all consuming love" of "father god" or anything like that. i felt like the misunderstood fat kid that just wanted to go have fun with some friends and be weird.
needless to say i ended up at a bible college, still as morbidly depressed as when i was 13. i would spend hours in chat rooms on AOL when that was the new thing, talking to people that had no idea who i was or what i looked like simply because there, in this stupid and pathetic cyber world, there was no concept of being super mean and cruel. i would sit in the playground on the back 40 acres at the college and take a key to the bookstore i worked at and scrape my skin til it was raw and i saw specks of blood. i was always doing something wrong. i was constantly "sinning" and i was miserable and not good enough for these christian people or god himself.
after a long line of lonely nights in sadness, repeating the same behaviors and pleas for death while i tried to sleep off the melancholy feelings, something snapped..... i started drinking. i was thinner, guys liked me and i could drink. this only masked the issue for a short while and i found myself subletting an apartment from a friend while he was in japan, asleep in his bed with a knife and a bottle of rum. i woke up the next morning and decided i needed to find some purpose or something.... not sure what i found except my ex... that was the most destructive 4 years of my life resulting in a beautiful child but a whole mess of feelings.
you see, i was always accused of cheating.... always. he could flirt with girls right in front of me but if i let a guy buy me a drink at a bar because i looked sad or was having trouble getting the bartender's attention, i was immediately accused of attempting to fuck said stranger. i was told how fat i was after i gave birth. i was accused of cheating if i wanted to look pretty and dress nice.
so after we split, i went back to what i knew.... drinking and sex. a few drugs were mixed in this time. it numbed me right up.... until i had to move to the burbs to get away from being broken into. this is when my sadness peaked again. i felt alone and sad and empty. until i started drinking again of course. i moved back to uptown, found people to drink with and go to shows with, and spent my time masking my pain with sex and booze.
it leads me to where i am now... years later i still am not sure if i am fat, thin, normal, or what have you. i have no idea if i am cute or pretty or ugly. i have no idea really what i like to do or where my personality goes sometimes. i put myself in terrible relationships that are no good for me because im used to being used and only being talked to for sex and nothing more. i cant drink anymore just cos it did me wrong a few times over the summer and im pretty over it.... i think everyone is only going to be around me for a short time and can't wait to escape and leave me. it leads to horrible thinking patterns. it causes me to behave in a way that is so irrational and leaves me scratching my own head wondering what in the fuckity fuck i am really doing....
and then there's my kiddo. i dont want her growing up following my same path. i want her to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is lovely and amazing and worth more than what anyone says to her... that she deserves more than some wishy washy, coward of a guy that is afraid of a committed relationship because he thinks she's a psycho like all of his ex's that just used him and cheated on him. i want her to be sure and confident and aware and kind with no doubt in her words, actions, or steps. i want for her all of the things i hope to find for myself.
last week i was in the pit of despair and actually took a dull steak knife and cut up the top of my forearm. i did it repeatedly because i was not thinking rationally, not sleeping, had a change in my medication, had a seasonal change occurring, and just felt... out of control mentally. needless to say, it scared someone away, drew a few friends closer, and set me on this path of really needing to get my shit sorted before it's too late.
and let me specify here that i did not want to die... i felt like a balloon so full of air and pressure that i would pop unless some of the pressure was released.... 55 slashes later... im shaking my head at some itchy scabs and scar tissue...
so now i have therapy every week, i am trying to find a healthy balance with my meds, and i have to go to DBT once a week for 6-9 months. DBT is dialectal behavioral therapy. this is basically teaching me new coping and thinking skills for when my brain runs off on an irrational tangent.
i dont expect said person to speak to me again honestly. im sure how i was speaking and acting was scary. im grateful for the friends that stuck by me and loved me and encouraged me to get help. i decided it was time to decorate and organize and downsize my little apartment and even begin a venture of selling my delicious cupcakes for some extra $$.
every day is hard, but every day is a little easier than the last. sometimes i wake up at night and just feel alone and rejected and sad. but morning comes every day and i force myself out of bed. im forcing myself to be productive with my time and explore hobbies and talents that i put on the backburner.
so, im exposing all of myself, bare bones and all to you whoever it is that is reading this. i will post updates here and there to let you know how DBT and therapy are going, how cupcake sales are going, and how healthy i am getting day by day.
in all of this i hope to be able to think more clearly and not assume someone is untrustworthy until they prove me wrong.
i hope to be able to find myself beautiful and not have that be determined by a pants size or a fat roll.
i hope to love myself in the same manner i love others.
i hope to speak kindly to myself in the same manner i speak to others.
i hope to be free and rid of this negative weight that has just been here for far too long.
it's been 5 days today since i last cut myself. it's been 5 days today since i spent an entire day in bed, sad, and crying. hooray for 5 days and onto many more.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
a little too late
it stinks that i always learn my lesson a little too late.
like right now... i dont know why i reacted and acted the way i did but self sabotage was sure the name of the game.... the game i fucking hate. i hate the fucking game.
i found someone i could just be a dorky weirdo with and instead i got so hung up on a label and a definitive answer to the age old girly question that i ruined it.
i forgot that it's just about a hand to hold, someone to dance awkwardly in front of, someone to joke with, someone to share the same bad story with over and over and act like it's the first time it's ever been told. i forgot that it's about just having weirdo adventures and smiles and hugs and late nite cuddles when you both wake up out of nowhere...
i hope i get to have that back....
i know i need to give space and time.
i know my brain on this logical course of thought needs more time... more time to make it stick.
i hope that with all this time he's still there.
cos i liked him.
it wasn't about the gooey, knee shaking feeling.
this time it was about the more important thing....
the smile. the smile that radiates from your insides out.
i got too caught up in the bullshit and was swept out to the shitty sea.
and it stinks.
and it's dark.
it's lumpy and lonely and ... well, it's shitty.
i hope for once.... just for once that he meant what he said, that it IS just a step back for now... just some time to sort ourselves out and get to be stupid and hang out again. cos he was fun to do that with.... i forgot that a little too soon.... and that sucks.
like right now... i dont know why i reacted and acted the way i did but self sabotage was sure the name of the game.... the game i fucking hate. i hate the fucking game.
i found someone i could just be a dorky weirdo with and instead i got so hung up on a label and a definitive answer to the age old girly question that i ruined it.
i forgot that it's just about a hand to hold, someone to dance awkwardly in front of, someone to joke with, someone to share the same bad story with over and over and act like it's the first time it's ever been told. i forgot that it's about just having weirdo adventures and smiles and hugs and late nite cuddles when you both wake up out of nowhere...
i hope i get to have that back....
i know i need to give space and time.
i know my brain on this logical course of thought needs more time... more time to make it stick.
i hope that with all this time he's still there.
cos i liked him.
it wasn't about the gooey, knee shaking feeling.
this time it was about the more important thing....
the smile. the smile that radiates from your insides out.
i got too caught up in the bullshit and was swept out to the shitty sea.
and it stinks.
and it's dark.
it's lumpy and lonely and ... well, it's shitty.
i hope for once.... just for once that he meant what he said, that it IS just a step back for now... just some time to sort ourselves out and get to be stupid and hang out again. cos he was fun to do that with.... i forgot that a little too soon.... and that sucks.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
note to self
it's going to be ok.
even when you think it isnt.
even when you have snot dripping from your nostrils.
even when you are hiccuping and gasping between sobs.
it's going to be ok.
it has been ok before in similar situations.
it will be ok after.
you cracked because you said you were tired of having to be strong and having to be tough.
girlie, that's just who you are.
look. take a real, hard, good look around you.
no, it isnt perfect.
no, it's no fucking disney movie.
it's life.
it's the life your decisions and choices have led you to up until now, some good, some bad.
but it is your life.
YOUR life.
you rely on no one far too often (which can be good and bad).
you are stubborn and make things work that probably shouldnt.
you are clever and giving.
you are a loving momma that anyone at first glance of you and your lil bubs can see.
and they see her and say "job well done" cos she isnt a snot nosed screaming brat throwing shit off the shelves at target.
she is polite.
she is kind.
she is friendly and giving and loving.
so lady, before you try to put on one more party hat for the pity party with no guests but yourself, take a long hard look at your life inventory.
take a long hard look at the struggles you have gone through.
remember the cold sting of being alone.
remember the outright insanity you've felt at being so out of control with your feelings.
remember banging on death's door pleading for an entry.
yeah you're not there anymore.
you're here.
you're alive in the now and you've made it.
you've made it this far.
it's been ok before even when you thought it wasnt.
you've swallowed your pride and gotten help before and nothing bad happened.
there was no public shaming of you in the stocks.
you've swallowed your pride and gotten help again.
remember the cold sting of being alone?
you're not there anymore.
YOU ARE HERE.
everything is going to get better.
everything is going to be ok.
note to self.... reread this every once in a while.
im sure it'll still hold true and save your sanity then too.
even when you think it isnt.
even when you have snot dripping from your nostrils.
even when you are hiccuping and gasping between sobs.
it's going to be ok.
it has been ok before in similar situations.
it will be ok after.
you cracked because you said you were tired of having to be strong and having to be tough.
girlie, that's just who you are.
look. take a real, hard, good look around you.
no, it isnt perfect.
no, it's no fucking disney movie.
it's life.
it's the life your decisions and choices have led you to up until now, some good, some bad.
but it is your life.
YOUR life.
you rely on no one far too often (which can be good and bad).
you are stubborn and make things work that probably shouldnt.
you are clever and giving.
you are a loving momma that anyone at first glance of you and your lil bubs can see.
and they see her and say "job well done" cos she isnt a snot nosed screaming brat throwing shit off the shelves at target.
she is polite.
she is kind.
she is friendly and giving and loving.
so lady, before you try to put on one more party hat for the pity party with no guests but yourself, take a long hard look at your life inventory.
take a long hard look at the struggles you have gone through.
remember the cold sting of being alone.
remember the outright insanity you've felt at being so out of control with your feelings.
remember banging on death's door pleading for an entry.
yeah you're not there anymore.
you're here.
you're alive in the now and you've made it.
you've made it this far.
it's been ok before even when you thought it wasnt.
you've swallowed your pride and gotten help before and nothing bad happened.
there was no public shaming of you in the stocks.
you've swallowed your pride and gotten help again.
remember the cold sting of being alone?
you're not there anymore.
YOU ARE HERE.
everything is going to get better.
everything is going to be ok.
note to self.... reread this every once in a while.
im sure it'll still hold true and save your sanity then too.
Sunday, October 19, 2014
momma guilt
"it's one of those perfect sundays that only has the possibility of becoming greater."
i just posted this bullshit line on facebook and had to tweet it as well.
"adversity brings about the sweetest changes."
i tweeted that bullshit line too.
actually no, that last one is not bullshit at all. it's the truth im finding in these contemplative moments. but this thinking almost always, without fail, pulls a 180 on me. all of a sudden a pang of guilt shoots through my body, stabbing like a dull knife through my heart and slicing its way down through my stomach and out my colon, handle side first.
ok a bit graphic, but still. i think about these moments of quiet i so long for during the week when i come home from work and i just want to put on these oversized fleece pajama pants, have a pizza, watch a movie, and fall asleep on the couch and the blue light of the computer screen. i have it right now... that perfect peace from just a perfect moment of tranquility and light. bubs isnt here. there is my guilt. i feel bad that sometimes i just want her not here so i can just have quiet. does that make me a bad mom for just wanting some alone time?
now mind you, any other mother that says THE SAME EXACT THING TO ME.... i am all up in her business preaching from my plastic milk crate of a soapbox about how she's no good to anyone unless she gets time to be herself and know herself.... that she's entitled to hobbies and friends too... that you'll snap if you don't acknowledge that you need time .... that life deserves to be appreciated and enjoyed by ALL people... blah blah, blahdity blah...
so when will this resonate its truth with me? when do i get to not have this nagging little monster on my shoulder calling me names for having fun with my friends and sleeping in past 730am?
im trying to use a moment like now, a day like today, to finally shove that little beast off and keep on smiling....
i just posted this bullshit line on facebook and had to tweet it as well.
"adversity brings about the sweetest changes."
i tweeted that bullshit line too.
actually no, that last one is not bullshit at all. it's the truth im finding in these contemplative moments. but this thinking almost always, without fail, pulls a 180 on me. all of a sudden a pang of guilt shoots through my body, stabbing like a dull knife through my heart and slicing its way down through my stomach and out my colon, handle side first.
ok a bit graphic, but still. i think about these moments of quiet i so long for during the week when i come home from work and i just want to put on these oversized fleece pajama pants, have a pizza, watch a movie, and fall asleep on the couch and the blue light of the computer screen. i have it right now... that perfect peace from just a perfect moment of tranquility and light. bubs isnt here. there is my guilt. i feel bad that sometimes i just want her not here so i can just have quiet. does that make me a bad mom for just wanting some alone time?
now mind you, any other mother that says THE SAME EXACT THING TO ME.... i am all up in her business preaching from my plastic milk crate of a soapbox about how she's no good to anyone unless she gets time to be herself and know herself.... that she's entitled to hobbies and friends too... that you'll snap if you don't acknowledge that you need time .... that life deserves to be appreciated and enjoyed by ALL people... blah blah, blahdity blah...
so when will this resonate its truth with me? when do i get to not have this nagging little monster on my shoulder calling me names for having fun with my friends and sleeping in past 730am?
im trying to use a moment like now, a day like today, to finally shove that little beast off and keep on smiling....
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