Timeline:

I know I have dumped a lot today.

I just wanted to give a time line of the last year and a half or so, just so you can see what’s been going on.

A year ago… in September of 2016 I made the decision to move out of the house I was living in with Jacob and move on from that relationship. A friend also passed away at this time.I thought I was going to live by myself and to do that I needed to make more money, so I applied for new jobs and went to several interviews over the next year.

In the Spring time of 2017 I found out that my dad had gone into a home. I was told by one of my sisters, and at the time I didn’t know what to do.

At the time with the breaking up with Jacob (took me almost a year to leave), I decided to do nothing about my dad.

I started looking for a place in June to move in with roommates. I found a place and moved out in August.

In October I moved back into Jacob’s house and we were engaged and started planning a wedding.

In late December of 2017 I received a call from my brother stating dad was in the hospital. I visited him in January of 2018, the day after he got out of the hospital…. And he passed early March 7th.

—All of these things were hard, and I made it through at my own pace.

Advertisements

I disabled Facebook.

You won’t find me there, so yah. It became really easy when I realized that I could keep Facebook messenger, and get rid of the other part.

I did it in January, because of all of the things that were happening in my life.

It became super overwhelming and I became very addicted to “scrolling” through Facebook and checking out in the process.

I also was tired of reading every-ones bullshit. Because people only really post things to create an allusion that their life is something… Something that it is or isn’t. I was getting caught up in this world of drama, that I didn’t want to be apart of anymore.

I also got caught up in some self worth by how many likes I got, who was saying what and how people were reacting to me. I know that posting things and getting involved with FB is a choice, and I just didn’t want to make it a choice I could access for a while.—So i could actually focus on myself, and what my needs were, versus what others want to see or want me to be.

Some positives that have come out of it: Perhaps my relationships are improving. A friend of mine invited me to her birthday in person because she realized I didn’t have Facebook and wasn’t apart of her event thing on FB. So that’s cool—

I think It will swoop back in my life in a few months. Facebook is a great way to get a hold of everyone during wedding times.

What I haven’t told you.

I moved back in with my partner in October and were getting married.

I moved out in August, with this lovely gal I met off of craigslist. I think I wrote about this experience earlier.

In September, Jacob and I started to talk. He suddenly had all sorts of things he wanted to say to me. We met in person at his house, and talked for hours– Mostly him wanting to tell me all of the things he didn’t have the courage to say before. I left his house, more confused than before, with him saying that “If I made a move I know what hat means” –We would get engaged and get married… and eventually have a child.

The next day he invited me to watch the football game with him on Sunday.

I was even more confused than before. And rolled over in my head and conversation with him that I didn’t know what to do… I ended up at his house again, and we talked more about us being together and what that would look like. He said he wanted to marry me, but needed more time. I told him I was done waiting for him. That’s when Jacob got quiet, he put his head down and after a few seconds he began to cry and said “I want to Marry you”

I moved back in, in early October and — Our official engagement happened in November. He wanted to take me out for dinner, and all weekend kept trying to get me to go out to where we first met, but couldn’t get me out of the house. While I was downstairs brushing my teeth, he had lit candles in our bedroom, and had hid my ring in one of the empty jewelry boxes on my dresser. When I found the ring, he got down on one knee and asked me to Marry him. And here we are, engaged and planning a wedding.

Today

It became clear how badly I needed to address myself. My body, my mind, all the things…

I’ve been neglecting myself, and my mental health.

I cried to my mother today, and I made a call to my nurse practitioner. I made a decision to follow through. I had anxiety addressing some of my barriers, but I did it. I’m proud, scared and unhappy. Something needed to be done.

June 2017

In June I watched a movie on Netflix called “What the Health”.

I was in shock. To say the least.

I mean, I knew how badly animals were treated, and how many preservatives and chemicals that get pumped into any animal product… I did not really really know or understand to the extent, enough to become full vegan before.

If you have not seen it yet, or are interested in watching it, there were about 5 minutes of the whole film I could not actually watch, and covered or closed my eyes. I was disturbed. Sickened actually.

There were a few human subjects on the film who had become vegan, to show how a vegan diet can change your body, so that they would not longer have to take the medications that had been prescribed because of their previous diets. My only Beef of the film had to do with these human subjects. The study they did lasted two weeks and the people were off of their meds and functioning. I would have loved to have seen a longer version of this study to capture a stronger message.

I have always said… I wanted to be a vegan, but I loved cheese too much. I wanted to become a vegetarian, but I would be terrible at it because I don’t eat beans or soy very well.

Because of this movie, in June of 2017, I became a vegan. NO more excuses.

Of course with every Diet there are people’s limits and what they feel comfortable doing. At this time I am not eating any animal product, and have not started living a full vegan life style.

Like I’ve said many times before, I am just trying to eat in a more intentional and intuitive way.

Last week:

I’ve been on the verge of a binge.

I have felt it coming on for a few days now.

I have a lot going on in my personal life and some second hand trauma from work that is really weighing me down. I wasn’t sure who to reach out to, to prevent myself from actually binging.

This was me last week.

I was alone in the office when I wrote it. A lot was building up, and at the time my coworker walked by and luckily we have a relationship where he let me vent.

I hadn’t slept well, and I was really just on the verge of loosing it.

I did not go into a full on binge. I did drink, but not too much.

I feel okay… I feel okay right now.

Invincible

Up until now I thought I was invincible. Or that death was this far off thing I didn’t think would happen for me. I don’t think that I’m going to die anytime soon, but as I grow older… the more I see time slipping and the people I thought would never leave this planet are.

My dad is in the hospital. With the flu. There is a slight chance he will recover and if he does, it seems as if he has less than a year to live. After all this time, after all of this created drama in my brain and now feeling like I have to cater to him one last time??? To give a little perspective, he’s 87. His chances are like 50/50 at this point, and if he does recover, he’s got like 6 months left.

I bought a plane ticket, I leave a week from Thursday. I’m going there, to see him. He won’t know who I am, he won’t know why I’ve come, but I’m doing it anyway.. why? So that in 10 years I won’t regret it. I’m not sure he will make it until I get there. I don’t really know what else to do.

Freedom of choice

Not sure, but I wanted to start this blog post with Hi, how are you, as if I was writing a letter to someone. Writing this blog, has been a way to capture moments in my life and share them with people. This specific post, perhaps is mostly for myself.

I have had this topic turning over in my head the past few days about jealousy. I’ve almost cracked open my laptop several times to write about this jealousy I had been having about other women and their bodies. Today… Perspective hit the fan and the wheels wouldn’t stop moving.

I work with homeless youth ages 18-24. A lot of them are from very poverish families, and even more s have very intensive and complex histories of trauma. Some of the things we are asking of them: Get a job, pay rent… are really far from their scope. Their idea’s of normal, are so wrapped up in anxiety and are consistently living in survival mode. —in many different forms. My co-worker was talking about this with me as she was reflecting on a youth who was making a lot of excuses about why she couldn’t do something. The crappy part is, at the end of the day, despite the complicated levels of trauma, they have to do it.

With this example, just touching on the surface of the real issues… and going back to my own life. I recognized this level of privilege I hadn’t seen before. It has taken me nearly 12 years to get to this place, and on-and off counseling. But… It is a privilege to say that there are a lot of consistencies in my life, and I don’t feel so crazy all of the time. Until the last few years, I’m not sure I would have been able to see that. I have lived in a very dark victim world, where I couldn’t see positives, I’ve been “lazy” as people may call it. ALL of my past choices perhaps have been due to overcoming past trauma.

Because I have put in work to un-due all of the shit I was taught to believe about myself, I’m in a better position to make choices. I have the power to do, or not do. The youth’s excuses to not do those things, she has those choices to do… But her brain isn’t anywhere near where mine is, and her excuses are far more out of trauma and learned behavior than mine. She has the power to do or not do as well… As any of us does. But until she accepts she needs mental health help, she may never get of of living in a victim mind set.

My excuses for not working out, are fucking stupid. We don’t work out because we like it… (well some people love it) We work out because we know it’s good for us, we also know that in the long run it will make us feel better.

Just interesting to put it in perspective… Is it hard? Yes! But we do it anyways because if we don’t, we spend a lot of time being jealous of other peoples lives when we are able to make changes ourselves (if we can). Did I work out after writing this blog post? No way! Will I tomorrow? Maybe? —What I learned is, It’s okay if I hate exercising…Like really okay if I hate it, but I could find ways to make it more fun, and more engaging so I don’t totally hate it. Either way, I’m making a choice, and I know that I can work out if I wanted to.

It’s September

So I haven’t written all summer… and I should have. I’m getting over this idea that I go through these periods of writing and not writing. It’s okay, I’m writing again, and I’m grateful for these moments of clarity.

I moved out of my ex’s house. I wrote earlier that I probably truly wouldn’t be able to take care of myself there, knowing that it would never end the way that I wanted it to. So I had to leave. It’s not something I really want to write about right now, but I’m sure it will come. Just know that it was one of the hardest and easiest things I’ve ever done.

I spent the majority of August, playing and taking care of my new place and the fucking fleas that still live here. I’m calling my landlord Tuesday in hopes he has better news and hopefully send these fuckers packing, they are not welcome here..

Either way, it’s September now and I’m trying to look up into the world in a new light.

Yesterday was tough, I cried all day because I didn’t feel good about things. I was sad because it suddenly sunk in how lonely life can be with out waking up to your person, and going to sleep with them by your side. You are suddenly solely responsible for yourself. Your own eating, your own waking up on time, your own bills, your own everything and not to mention your emotional well being. I ended my day among friends, while watching friends, drinking diet coke with vodka and smoking a cigarette. It was exactly what I needed, and I felt okay about it. I don’t make a habit of smoking, but I’ve been known to throw back a few every once in a while.

I went to sleep last night with this new mindset in mind. I was going to go for a run. Well… Walk run… okay mostly walk. But I did get a wave from a cute guy recognizing I was out taking care of myself. Now I’m not going to dive too deep into this because I want to write a post in a bit how I hit a deer with my car probably 3 Christmases ago…. It will make sense when I write it and the weird symbolism in it.

Anyway, It’s September, I have a lot of ideas, I have a lot of things that have changed besides my current relationship status, and I have goals to write more often.

 

 

Shattering effects.

I smashed my scale a few weeks ago, on the pavement in my driveway with a sledge hammer.

What I learned from this experience was more than what I anticipated. I wanted to do it as some sort of relief, and ritual in order to finally stop the worry and get rid of the thing in a way that was more fun than just throwing it in the trash. If you decide to take on this endeavor, I suggest put it in some sort of container before you actually do it, wear long pants, and goggles.

What happened: When the sledge hammer hit the glass, it exploded. I didn’t realize until after I had cleaned it up that it had actually hit me, and made my knee bleed. Also, the glass was everywhere, under our cars, in the grass, on my body… everywhere. I did not expect this to happen… But I guess I’m not surprised either.

When I was cleaning it up, it became this metaphor of eating disorders and weight obsession. Anything could trigger me at any point, which would leave this shattering effect on my life (or so I felt). When ever I felt like I had accomplished something (weight loss goal, conquering food goal), things would come up that I hadn’t fully addressed and then more would unfold, and then suddenly I was entrenched in food again and the obsession.

When I was cleaning the glass up with the broom, I would find new patches of glass I hadn’t quite gotten and would find more as I would push it to the main pile.

And after all the glass was swept up, all that was left were shards that were glimmering in the sunshine. Letting me know that the issues will probably always be around in some form or another.

Few weeks, or months later—–I can’t believe that I didn’t actually post this or finish it when I had written it… At this point it’s just this distant memory of shattered memories. Unrecognizable and I’m glad I thought It was something that I deemed important to write about. Smashing it was liberating and super telling. As I moved into my new place, I no longer have a scale to determine my worth. I’m not sure if it’s liberating or if I’m just curious. At this point, I am not in a mind set to be curious. I’m pretty stressed about my weight.