Random Acts of Lunacy

Letter to my 16 year old self....pt. 1

2012-02-01T11:11:00.000-08:00

You are fantastic and amazing though you don't believe it. You are in the midst of experiencing your first love and your first heartbreak. Know that 18 years later, you will consider this person as your sister. You will send her daughter clothes from the town you reside in and you will be happy knowing that you still have that connection. Things at home aren't great. You have no one to talk to, no one to listen, but it will get better. You will leave your major city for a tiny college town. You will expand your life experiences and become an activist. Yes you! You will channel your energy into making your voice be heard across the campus. You will travel through the state and have opportunities in the country to meet other activists and network. You will meet the head of a national advocacy group. You will become burned out and lose your verve for the work.You will meet two of your biggest loves though you won't have a romantic relationship. You will fight with them and stop speaking and reconcile. The friendships will last and you will consider them to be family. Hundreds & thousands of miles will separate you. You will learn to give hugs and receive hugs. Your past will haunt you. You haven't begun to scratch the surface of your pain. Once you do, you will dive deep into an eating disorder. It will plague you. Trust where you are right now, it's not even close to where you are going to be. It will be all consuming (pardon the terrible put). You will attempt to go to therapy. Once while you are in college, but you aren't ready for it and can't even bring yourself to cry. You will try again when you are in your mid twenties, but don't know how to for your therapist to push you to be better. Instead, you find her to be ineffectual and stop going. You even give a case study a whirl where you go to group therapy, individual therapy, meet with a nutritionist...the whole nine yards. You want to be better so badly. Every one in your group drops out and you keep going. Unfortunately, old habits die hard and it isn't until you are 33. That is where the light at the end of the tunnel starts to shine through. You will get help from a wonderful therapist. She will push you and challenge your beliefs. You will be able to CRY. And not just the tears rolling silently down your cheeks kind of cry. You will tap into your ugly cry where your words are unintelligible and your body is wracked by sobs. You accept that you are a sensitive person, that you deserve understanding and tenderness and you will start to recognize that various relationships that you have been involved in do not honor you and give you what you deserve. You will break up with your girlfriend, your best friend and much later your job. You won't break up with your family, but you will come to a better understanding with them. You realize that you cannot change them and you have to accept them for where they are compared to where you would like them to be. Your relationship with your grandmother will improve. Your relationship with your sister will improve. Your mother will come and visit you every year for her birthday starting in 2005. She will meet all of your chosen family and adoration will be shared by all. And she will be a grandmother. You won't have any children, but all of your brother's except for the youngest will. You will find love. No, not the romantic kind, not yet, though you will have some experiences that will be memorable. This love is what you will base your next relationship on. This love comes in the from of Hannah, Julie, Domi, Russell and Lauren. You will have trusting friendships. Relationships that will nourish you, support you and encourage your growth. These friendships will harness laughter and trust. Those will be your foundation to avoid the emotionally unavailable and emotionally dishonest.Oh, and you will still be fat. Yup, remember when you lost over 100lbs? Well, it hasn't happened yet, but it will when you are going into your senior year in high school. Mix in some depression with hormones and metabolism and you drop a lot of weight. You will continue to be focused on your weight. Over time, it comes down to your health. You aren't experiencing any major health issues, but you will begin to change your eating habits for your health. You will relish in the strength of your body and know that if you would like for it to remain a working machine, you have to take care of it. Yes, you will still stick out like a sore thumb, but you always have. You're 5'11 for Pete's sake. In a land of tiny bodies, yours is going to be noticed. And guess what? It's fucking beautiful. You will have lovers, you will have girlfriends, you will have crushes, and heartaches. You will have sex. You will go through a period of celibacy. All in that body of yours. The negative messages that you are hearing are from yourself. So guess what? Cut it out! You are your biggest critic. You will find the beauty again and channel that energy to the stage. YOU will become a burlesque dancer! MMMMHMMM! After doing some drag in your mid twenties, you will give up performance for a while though the pull will still be there. Finally, you will get over yourself and the stage will call to you again. You will be nervous and handsome. Speaking of handsome, you start going by a "male" name. Now don't freak out. You aren't transitioning from female to male, but you won't relate to your birth name anymore. It's heartbreaking because you were named after a beautiful woman that you never met, but it just isn't you. And after the transitions you experience and the growth that occurs, Luc suits you. See, that's not so bad. It's a shortened version of your middle name. Your friends like it. Your mother doesn't bat an eye and your sister teases you. It's who you are. You will smile. You will not be nervous when you introduce yourself as Luc. You will also develop a love of colors & patterns. Right now, you are probably wearing a solid colored shirt and jeans. Argyle and plaid will take over. You will learn about hues of blues and greens and oranges. All of the colors that you look good in. Purple will make it's way into your wardrobe, though it will be more of a lavender type color. You fancy yourself as a dandy boi. You like cardigans and bow ties. Tattoos and baking. Newsboi caps and converse. You will work to be happy. And not be happy to work.You will continue to write.

Page Turner

2011-12-07T16:39:00.001-08:00

So, here's the deal. I'm unemployed as of now. Why pray tell? If you must know.....nah, I'll just leave you all to wonder. The truth is, I'm happy. Oh dear gawd I am happy. I feel relieved. I feel elated. I feel normal. That had been the one last thing that was a hurdle of annoyance in my life. I have gotten rid of the rotten interpersonal relationships. I have taken care of my rotten familial interaction. The only albatross hanging around my neck was a job that I did not like. A job that I hated...no, not that I hated, but I was not happy in. I hated the environment and the agency, but not my work or my team. I was definitely tired of the work that I was doing. It was not a supportive environment, it was not an encouraging environment. One should not wake up every morning with the word "fuck" upon their lips as a way to start their day. Mind you, this was after I had crawled into a bottle the previous night to wash away the day's woes. That is not a way to live. And since I am no longer in that position, I feel better. Just deep down in my soul, I feel better. Since the late Spring, things had been in a free fall from my unhappiness at work and issues that I had spent a lot of time, energy and money on were starting to creep up. Now that I'm not working, my anxiety has eased up. My drinking (besides celebrating) has eased up. My purging had increased and I'm working on myself to reign that in. That takes some gentle coaxing and reminders that I have better coping mechanisms than my fall back. And my confidence is back up. I had a fear of being really out in the community because of "the position" that I held or the agency that I represented. And that doesn't matter now. So now is time to turn the page on my life. Seek out what really speaks to me and what really moves me. The thing is, I think that's a very difficult question to answer. I have a ton of soft skills, teaching, curriculum development, superbly engaging, being an extrovert. But the hard skills, not so much (screw you Excel). So where does that mean I'll land? Next step...discover what I would like to be when I grow up. Sheesh.

OnWard hoe!

2011-10-08T10:13:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in a nearby coffee shop with 100 best non profits to work for in Oregon. Not surprising at all, I have not come across the organization that I currently work for. I fostered a conversation with a coworker yesterday afternoon. I asked her, "how long do you think you're going to be here". She said, "I'm getting ready to go soon." I then repeated the question, "how long do you think you're going to be HERE'. We then launched into a conversation about how our unhappiness has continued in our positions without additional compensation, but of course with more work involved. When she used the word "soul" I leaped at it. Yes, I agreed, our souls are at stake. Our souls aren't being fed. It's soul sucking to sit at a desk all day and "help" people in crisis when really you are just putting a bandage on it. When you aren't being supported or receiving recognition and you don't trust your supervisor or your supervisor's supervisor to confess how heavy your heart is and the amount of energy it takes to just get out of bed and walk through the doors. I've been so out of it that I haven't been job searching. But no more. Fuck that. My situation won't change unless I change my situation. Another job isn't just going to fall into my lap. That'd be nice if it did. However, the question remains, what the heck am I going to do?I was g-chatting with my little sister and I asked her what she wanted to do with her life. What was her path. She didn't miss a beat and responded that she wanted to have her PhD by the time she was 30 and to have her own clinical therapy practice. Well there you have it. I on the other hand don't really have an idea. I want to do something in the arts. But I don't have any official training. I enjoy writing. I have a gift with words. I've love to work in music or with photography. Promotions. Not direct services. Ideas just floating, but nothing concrete. I will continue in my current position until I find something else. But, hot dang, I am skating on the edge and feel like I'm going to quit any day now. Which would be the most colossal and stupid mistake I could ever make as I don't have any savings. Heck, I don't even have any space on my credit card for a full tank of gas. So for now, I'm going to scour these pages. Work my network and net something that works for me.

Just one of those things

2011-09-11T17:10:00.000-07:00

Is the song that I'm listening to right now. It's on Ella Fitzgerald sings Cole Porter's songbook Vol. 1. A new found friend is a huge fan and I was appreciative of the discovery so I'm listening to it on Spotify. It felt so good to have what I consider a soul connection with someone. We hung out for 5 hours yesterday just talking. It doesn't seem like much until you realize that I got home at 3am. I woke up with a smile on my face knowing that I think we were supposed to hang out. It was meant to happen. How delightful. Can't wait to see her again on Monday. I just reveled in her energy. I needed the boost of positivityI haven't been present in myself lately which has led to a back slide in behaviors. I know I am not really happy at work. I am utterly not happy at work. It saps my energy, it saps my life, it sucks the essence out of my being. Though I haven't tried to focus on what will make me happy work wise. Thing is, I don't know. I feel foolish not knowing what I want to do for the rest of my life. I mean, I'm almost 35 and I don't have a clue. Sometimes I think I do, other times, I totally talk myself out of it. That's the thing, I talk myself out of trying to do what it is that I want to do. I could have a food cart or be a writer or a poet or a barista with my own shop. Yup...or be the lead singer of a Dave Matthews Band cover band. Yes, that is what I want to do. We mostly work for paychecks. We don't work for happiness. For satisfaction, for fulfillment. I want to learn to feed my soul and then the work should come. Where to begin?Though work is a drag I've been having more delightful moments in my life. Last week, I couldn't/didn't get anyone to join me for an outing to Sauvie's Island for some blueberry picking so I ventured out on my own. It was the best time I've spent with myself in a long time. I was just consumed by my thoughts and my task at hand. Get blueberries. I think those little orbs of beauty are the most perfect and most wonderful food of all time. Knowing they are in season (for a little while longer) and are abundant in this area is just a pure blessing. I even tried my hand at making blueberry jam. It came out a little on the tart side, but the fact that I made it is what makes a difference to me. And I think i know what I'd like my next tattoo to be. I've seen some food tattoos around lately and I was thinking, what could I get? What is important to me. What thrill do I get out of food? What unequivocally makes me shudder and squeal in delight? It's the berries. The thought is just in the beginning stages, but I know that is what I want. At least I have figured one thing out.

Food is....

2011-07-25T12:50:00.001-07:00

On my mind. What you see up above there is my first attempt at making a delightful dish called Blueberry Banana Pie vegan overnight Oats. Yes vegan. Now, I'm not going vegan (which used to mean to me basically eating a pile of dirt since you were so picky about everything else), though I am attempting to eat a lot healthier in a way that reflects my ideals of sticking to whole foods and not just attempting to replace what I'm used to eating with a bunch of processed replicas. Does that make sense? Not really? Okay, here's an example, say I don't want to eat chicken nuggets anymore. It wouldn't make much sense for me to replace them with chick'n nuggets because that's just a bunch of over processed soy flavored chickenesque product. I'd be better of just eating a chicken breast because it's less processed. I know when I eat more whole foods or basically, when I'm present in my body and I'm aware of what I put in my mouth, I feel better. I'm less likely to binge and definitely less likely to purge. I have been super triggered lately because of the daunting task of being a home owner. Though it's stressful, I love it. However, I have had to adjust to a LOT of things and it's taking me a while to wrap my brain around it.

The recipe was super easy to make. I made it in under ten minutes. I will admit that there was a mess to clean up because I did it on the fly and I had company over. But the results were phenomenal.
First off, it has blueberries which by far are my most favoritest fruit in the whole wide world. They are little orbs or delightfulness. None of the flavors were over powering and everything complimented each other. I WILL be making this again. It was recommended to have some home made granola on top, but I was fine with how it was.

Now, back to what I made. I have to give credit because this is not my own creation. I came across the recipe at a blog called OhSheGlows A coworker was telling me about it and I got hooked by the pictures of the pretty foodstuffs. I didn't read her complete story as a little...nah, a big piece of me will be triggered by her trauma. Still, I think it's great that she has found the path to walk down towards health and happiness. The pictures are great, her stories are entertaining and I think I can whip up a few of those recipes. Matter of fact, I think I'm going to create this one tonight, MMMMHMMM.
As I continue along my path, I think I can pick up some nuggets of knowledge and work some things into my repertoire of happy making.

Lying there

2011-07-21T12:23:00.000-07:00

After a fun and feverish session of intimate relations, we cuddled. After kissing her arm, her eyelids and her throat, I nuzzled underneath her armpit and wished for time to slow down so she didn't have to leave so quickly. She told me that I was sweet and I replied, "thanks for noticing". As I wriggled in closer, she stated, "You're like a puppy who's been hit on the nose with a newspaper". I wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement. I didn't say anything to confirm or deny the comparison. I held my breath and tucked my head in an attempt to shut out the truth of the reveal. It's too early to see me clearly.

Has reasons to be happy

2011-07-10T12:05:00.000-07:00

I've never really considered myself a reflective person. I don't look back at life and take the lessons learned and move forward with clarity. I always say that I make things up as I go along. That's not true. I have taken the time to see what has worked for me and what has not. It's really been in effect because I don't go to therapy anymore. I often think about T (my former therapist) and I imagine the conversations we would have if she knew what was going on in my life right now. I can hear her praise and see her eyes smile knowing that I set boundaries and I have stuck to them. My heart swells with emotion when I know that I am truly taking care of myself.

I consider myself a simple boi. Uncomplicated. Give me a little attention, are and consideration and it'll go a long way for you with maintaining my loyalty and friendship. I also like simple activities. For example, I have been riding my bike to work. I love riding my bike. The pumping of the pedals, the wind in my face, the sun on my skin. All of those things make me super happy. The fact that it's exercise is secondary. The natural sensations that I feel (the energy, the heart racing) keep me motivated and wanting more. Rain or shine. Windy hill or bug in my eye. I am going to keep riding my bike.

Another thing, making my house a home. I think I have been intimidated by the idea of making this place really mine because I want it all done now. I know that it takes time. I mean, damn, I'm going to be paying it off for 30 years. I should give myself a break and not worry that I don't have a kitchen table yet. I have the ideas and as I get the money, it will all come together. The awesome thing is that I have a home.

You know what else I noticed? I like looking at myself naked in the mirror now. Before I would look and look away quickly. I would be embarrassed by what I saw and only saw the "flaws" and the fat. The stretch marks and gut. I could give a rubber fuck about that now. I feel fine and free in my skin. I make faces at myself in the mirror and I flirt with myself. I'm such a handsome boi who exudes energy and emotion like 1000 unicorns racing on a rainbow track. I really like the space I'm in right now. Who wouldn't want to be around that?

Flying Time

2011-06-27T22:03:00.001-07:00

I have neglected you dear blog. And for no good reason. Minus the purchasing of a home (condo), moving in, planting, painting and panting to make it mine in style and substance. Still, it's an excuse. A simple excuse. And we are full of them we humans. It's easier to make an excuse instead of being accountable I will get the fire back into my belly and the words out of my head and onto this electronic page. I think the bike rides help. They make my head feel clearer and my face smiles more.

Next steps

2011-03-18T15:07:00.000-07:00

It's all about looking fear in the face and saying with a deep minty breath, "FUCK YOU FEAR"!

I need to slow down and look around at my life. I've made some changes. Some big changes. Some huge steps. First off, I'm a homeowner now. Yup, your gurl bought a house (well, a condo in reality). I really wanted to get a house, but this offered everything that I wanted (garage, fireplace, backyard). It's in an area of town that is majority people of color...I know it's still Portland, but still, you get what you get. It's near a park. The residents are older. I'm sooo excited and stoked to be moving forward. I'm also scared poopless. A mortgage!??? Imma hafta pay a mortgage? That ish is true when they say your monthly payments are gonna double. Lordy jeez! I'm confident that I can do it and it will take all of the planning and skills that I have to make this work. I can live frugally. I can also live. With that, I can't have my brother move in with me. I have yet to have the conversation with him, but I've told my mother and I cannot do it at this time. From what I've learned about some of his actions and decisions recently, I would just be inviting chaos into my home. I'll say he can come for a visit, but not to stay permanently. That second bedroom is gonna be my library/office.

Number two. I'm ending therapy. Holy wah! You heard me. As an African American Black American, I know our people typically do not subscribe to going to pay someone to talk about our problems. It's a new dawn and a new day and I know I would not have been able to make the strides I have made without professional help. It's been, what? 2.5 years? And a helluva lot of $$$. I believe that it is money well spent and though at times I still falter in my self confidence, I can say that it is brief and beyond a doubt not the standard soundtrack that's in my head anymore. The lessons that I have learned and the paths that I have forged gives me the courage to live my life to the best of my abilities and to have healthy boundaries and surround myself with the best people who encourage me to do and be better. I have learned to be selfish in formidable ways and unapologetic about taking care of me and my needs. Because when I am at my best, I know I can the ability to help others do their best too.

Number 3. I'm giving serious thought as to how to lead the best professional life. I'm comfortable in my job and I like what I do, but it's not fulfilling me anymore. I was all mopey and sad yesterday at what is supposed to be the start of a fantastic birthday weekend. I was just thinking about everything that I am NOT doing and how scary it is to start over or try to go to school to get a master's degree or something. I don't want another piece of paper. I want to work with youth still, but I'm not sure the capacity. I don't want to be a teacher. Too much bureaucracy and paperwork and teaching to a system and not having kids actually learn. I yearn for my freedom and don't want to be tied to a chair and numbers and outcomes. Sure, I like having benefits (which I only use when I really need a check up...though the retirement funding match is NICE!!!!). Anyhoo, I like customer service...I do. Though at times people suck. I also want to be my own boss and really feel like I am living. I want my own food cart. I know Portland is filled with them, so it means doing something different than what everyone else is doing. I want it to be mobile. Truly mobile so I can drive around and find the $$$. I want followers. It's a new idea (well, sorta new) that I want to bring to life! I'm not gonna reveal what it is because I don't want ya'll to steal my idea. I just want your support when I get it going!

Feels good! I'm stepping up and out!

Today is...

2011-02-23T17:39:00.000-08:00

the first day that I really miss you. Ugh.
I had a reflex moment of wondering how your day was going and thought about texting you until I remembered that I purposefully deleted your number to avoid instances like these.
I couldn't tell you that Molly was wearing sweater that looked like it was made out of a Muppet. Or that maybe some old dog had licked away at it to make it look all mangy.

I wondered how your bike ride into work went or if you chuffed it and took the bus because of all of the snow talk that has yet to happen in the city. You know that it won't.

I woke up hugging my pillow. I never have physical dreams, but waking up this morning and seeing how I was gripping the pillow just made me sad.

I found myself grunting and shaking my head and recognizing that those are your trademark movements and moments and everytime I do it, it's because of the imprint you left.
In the midst of the confusion and the consternation and me feeling like I was emotionally hustled, I am missing you.

SEE!!!

Predatory behavior

2011-02-20T18:22:00.000-08:00

Is that what I did? Is that what I displayed? Sent out signals to be mixed and received as betrayal? Hand to God the explosion left me empty and rocked to my core. Hand to God where is the desire to desire more. More pain, more pressure more mismanagement of emotion. Cracked conversations. Fragile eggshell flecked speech. Communication chaos can't create reconciliation.
Turned heel traces what's left of
Punctuated steps dissolve into a whisper.

I underestimated what you feel/felt for me.
I should have had more insight and sensitivity towards you.
I regret my actions and my part in your pain.
For that I have I lost you.
For that I am sorry.
It will be a loss that will take tremendous time and effort to recover from.

Also, it is not my responsibility to police your feelings. If something is not going right for you, you need to tell me. We are both adults. I know you want me to bear the burden. But gatdamnit! I am soooo tired of having your emotional outpouring thrust upon me and you shirk all responsibility of how you are supposed to feel. Dude, you have fantastic boundaries at work. You shine there, you accomplish so much, but once an intimate relationship is introduced, the responsibility disappears like a Republican's morals. Poof gone. I didn't include you enough, it wasn't balanced enough, I said the wrong thing. When you HURT ME, I could not see the compassion that you were trying to portray. How does that factor in? I'm telling you one plus two equals three and you are yelling seven back to me. You shut down and run away. Literally you run away. Too afraid to let the tears fall. I am not going to judge you if you cry. I see you choke on your emotion as you put up your wall and push back your pain.

You told me that you tried to show me that I was in your heart. I don't feel that I'm in your heart when I'm not being heard. When I'm being yelled at. When I'm being told how I feel. When my feelings are being assumed. When I say what my feelings are and I'm not being listened to. Don't I know how I feel?

It is our mutual failure.
There are some things I can't joke about. There are some things I can't talk about. Too many topics that are too sensitive too soon. If our "foundation" got too cracked under this, what could we really stand on? I question the reality of our friendship. I was functioning on one wave and you were on another. I should be the one pissed here. I should feel deceived and betrayed. I'm really just shaking my head in bewilderment.

And if I further marinate on this, I think it's comparable to how we got started in the first place,though the tables were turned then and I was wrenched with wanting. Doesn't make it any better though.

It will be a beautiful day when someone who fears abandonment so much stops pushing people in a way that they have no choice but to leave. Once you are ready to face it all, meaning all of you and all of your sadness and glory, goddamn son, you are going to be marvelous. Holy shit, people better watch out for your shine. Until then, what happened with me won't be the last "failure".

P.S. I've said the word "stripper" to both KC and Elle. Neither one of them freaked.

The jist of it...

2011-02-16T16:48:00.000-08:00

And as much as I wanted it, I don't anymore. I don't want to be torn at anymore. I don't want to be heart sore anymore. I don't want to be picked at and have any residue of emotional gore anymore. And for how long? Less than a month? Damn dude, we are NOT made for each other. What we did? We shouldn't trade for each other. I want to push pause and not erase each other. But what needs to happen is mos def space. From each other.

Family Matters

2011-01-15T10:16:00.001-08:00

I sat on the couch during my counseling session this past Thursday and T asked something to the tune of "what's the situation with your little brother". I told her I didn't know because, alas I hadn't called anyone to hear the latest. Well then. The universe decided that it was time for me to call because I woke up the following day to a text and a missed phone call from my sister asking me to call my youngest brother because he only listens to me. I hadn't even made a cup of coffee or tea before I dialed. It was the most unproductive conversation to say the least. Almost 40 minutes of my life that I won't get back. In the beginning I was being compassionate and understanding, but my goodness, is that boy stubborn and uncompromising. He has multiple excuses for everything and I called him out on the BS and smoke he was blowing up my butt. By the end of the conversation, I told J that he needed to be an active participant in making his life better because if he comes out here to live with me, it might be a hard decision, but I will kick him out.
So my day proceeded as I had initially planned. Went to the gym, got two hours of exercise in and now I'm sore in the strangest of places. Took my car to get the brakes fixed (rusted brake drum anyone?). Though while I was at the gym, I made the mistake of checking my phone and saw that another brother had called and sent a text. He said that mom had been crying all morning (uh-oh, Mom does NOT cry) and he wanted to know what I had talked to J about. While at the brake shop, I decided to call my mom and get a run down on things. That was the plan, but it ended up going completely different. I kinda sorta gave my mom a talking to. I told her as much as she was tired of things, she had been saying the same stuff to me for the past couple of years when she had to deal with drama from my other brothers. I asked her what did she want her life to look like and how is it different from what it looks like now. I also asked if it had something to do with whatever issues she has never looked at from the marriage with my dad or the relationship she had with my siblings' father. I told her that nothing was going to change unless wanted it to and that she needed to establish some boundaries with my brother.
I broke it down by saying that since J is diagnosed with depression it's like dealing with a retarded person. Someone who cannot make "normal" functioning decisions. Or at least a person with cancer. He is saying he doesn't want to take meds because he doesn't want to have any side effects. That's like saying I have cancer, but I refuse chemo because I don't want my hair to fall out. I also told my mother that a condition of him coming out here is that he needs to be on meds. I am not dealing with his chemically imbalanced ass being all willy nilly and what not. Plus, J thinks it's going to be a cake walk because he has not been around me long enough for us to get on each others nerves. Yeah, it will work until it doesn't. I also told my mom that my first priority is for me to take care of myself and if it's not working out for J, I will gladly send him back. And I didn't feel any guilt or sadness. I was proud of myself for stating all of it.
I hope she got the message.

No one mourns the wicked

2010-12-28T13:53:00.000-08:00

For the second day in a row I'm listening to the Wicked Soundtrack because I find it soothing. It's enough flair and extravagance to distract me (slightly) from reality. At the end of the 17-track affair (really, I don't listen to all of them), I go back to brooding or biding time until I feel normal again.
And what is that normal? These days I don't know. Because the feeling that encompasses me right now is foolishness and phukitall.I'll get over that soon. But it's where I'm at.
You cannot have a rational conversation when it involves feelings and emotions. Or when it's about feelings and emotions. Apparently a friend of mine believes that it is possible. Or maybe they can have a rational conversation but just not with me when I'm being emotional.
I thought I was doing right by stating my feelings and I could have sworn there was an acknowledgment and reciprocation. Why otherwise was there a feverish make out session like we were two fifteen year-olds trying to get as much in as little time as possible?
I want more. They want less. To them, wanting more means what we have is not good enough. To me wanting less means denying what is there. And I'm not going to fucking pretend that I don't have feelings for someone and continue to hang out with them like everything is hunky dory. That's crazy making. It's like you just fell off a horse and hit your head and you're being told to get back in the saddle. You know what???? I fucking hate horses! They scare the shit out of me.
And I know in my last post I said I was stepping back from it all. That didn't last and I didn't step back far enough.
I thought I was doing what I was supposed to do. Build foundation first. You said we built the perfect friendship. What people try to accomplish in years, we did it in months. Why wouldn't romantic inclinations be the next step? As much as I fought down my tears and failed, what was harder was the feelings of inadequacy. That's my go to. Never good enough.
Even when I do what I'm told, I follow the steps, it goes screwy. My mariposa said sometimes fear keeps you safe. I say fuck you fear.
YOU do NOT get access to ME while I try to stop hurting. It would do us both a disservice and it would make me a shitty friend. I cannot....no I REFUSE to stuff down and pack away my feelings. I did that shit long enough which resulted in this damn dirty monkey called bulimia which is still on my back, denying what I needed and not asking for what I needed and being out of touch with my feelings. And because I am in the midst of healing from past trauma does not mean that I am incapable or undeserving of love. I also refuse to be defined by my pain and my past.
Being butch does not mean I don't have feelings. Or the only one that I'm prescribed is anger. I am glad that I have access to the part of me who is willing to cry now because before I was a ginormous ball or fury and sarcasm. I pushed away anyone who was sensitive and who showed my sympathy or empathy because I thought it was weakness.
NO ONE gets to define who I am. No one gets to define my butchness and what it means to me. If I wanted to keep my hair long or shave it bald. Wear a tie, or a tank top with glitter on my face, it doesn't matter what the hell anyone else thinks. Ma'am, or sir. Sara or Luc. I get to define who I am. And I am one handsomely, beautiful sparkly motherfucker. One sassy and savvy boi.
Was this jumbly enough? Did I jump around enough? It's where I'm at.

Conversate

2010-12-19T16:44:00.000-08:00

No, I don't really use that word as a part of my language. I hate it. It's not conversate people, it's converse. Sure you are trying to take it from conversation, but English does not work like that.
I have had some interesting conversations over the past few weeks. I posted before saying that I was allowing my youngest brother to come and live with me once I purchase a home. I discussed this decision with several friends and I know that I have a fantastic network of support when this actually occurs. Also, while everyone was congratulating me on being a great person and having a big heart, my platonic lesbian life partner asked a bigger question(s), "Why you"? and Have you thought about how it's going to change your life? Now, the first question, was easy for me to answer, I was actually a bit defensive too. I thought, why not me. Who else is it going to be? It's not like my mother has really reached out to her siblings for assistance and it's not like they have offered it. He's my own, of course I'm going to take care of him as best I can. As for the second question, that threw me and made me shut up for a moment.
My life is going to change completely. As much as I think it's going to be a period of growth for my brother, I did not consider my growth. After the initial offer, it was going through my mind of me being responsible for someone else. I will be teaching someone else. As much as Bobo will lean on me, I will need to lean on my friends. I am grateful for the outpouring of support. The more I considered the changes, the more I felt that I needed to clue my brother in. So I gave him a call to check in on him and to discuss some of my expectations and concerns. I told him that my life probably does not look like anyone that he knows. I asked him to be patient with me because both of us will need time to adjust. I think he understands, which is all I can hope for. I know I'll continue to check in as time grows near.

Another interesting conversation I had was with Elle. We hung out last week after going to see the first installation of the final movie about "The Boy Who Lived". Afterward, we went to a little coffeehouse to continue to hang out. We talked about a bunch of stuff including her budding interest in some performance arts. We traded ideas about costumes and music. It was really nice to just hang and chat with her. Eventually, the discussion turned to dating. She told me about her latest foray which didn't sound promising and I told her about how I'm stepping back from it all. Mainly because I need to let some things within me get more solid and just because I really haven't met anyone who blows my socks off. Well, I did, but that turned out to be a bust. I ranted about how women in Pdx don't want to date someone who is assertive and direct. And how it's like this mysterious game that I don't want to play. I then turned to her and pointed out that she never responded to when I asked her out. For me, that was difficult because we continued to hang out as friends and I felt like I was getting mixed messages. Surprisingly, she didn't puke, or pass out. She copped to being passive in her communication with me. She said she didn't want to hurt my feelings when she decided no (when originally asked, she said let me think about it and never got back to me). I told her it hurt my feelings more by not getting a response since it takes so much to ask someone out in the first place. And I told Elle that I decided it was no because she never said anything back. I walked her through my thought process of how her not saying anything was reminiscent of my ex handling difficult conversations and just letting them lie in hopes of it being forgotten about. That's too close and too triggering for me. Elle seemed reflective and pretty thankful that I told her what had been going on. I was relieved that it went well. Score one for me opening my mouth!

It's a Family affair

2010-12-07T11:03:00.000-08:00

I had written on my bathroom mirror, "Reserve your energy". And, "It's not your job". I'm trying to give myself reminders of what I am and am not responsible for. It's difficult to distinguish at times. Ultimately, I know that I am responsible for myself and my actions. But when people, your family, reaches out and asks for help, what am I to do?
I agreed to allow my youngest brother to come and live with me when I buy my house. That purchase is not going to happen until the start of spring at the earliest. He is tired of living at home and I agree that it's not the best environment or the most supportive. He gets dumped on by everyone.
He also is not willing to do anything to change his situation. For instance, I was trying to brainstorm with him the other day of how he can keep himself busy and stay out of the house so he doesn't argue with anyone. I got excuse after excuse. "I get bored at the library". "I don't have bus fare to get downtown". "I do go for walks, but eventually I have to go back home". "I was forced to volunteer once and I don't know what I want to do." I told him, then his life must not be that shitty if he is shooting down everything I am suggesting and if he can't come up with anything.
My mother is practically begging me to get him out of Chicago before Christmas. I don't see that happening. I don't think moving him will change everything. I have expectations and will hold him accountable.
And talking to my mother about this is difficult because I know she created and perpetuated the situation. She DID do everything for my siblings. She DOES allow them to live in her home and not contribute. She created the frame that has stunted them emotionally so they are incapable of taking care of themselves. But damn, she had many burdens to bear herself with no support from anyone, so I am not surprised at all that this situation exists.
So, how do I fit into all of this? What can I do? Hell, I need to figure out if I'm capable. I've been living on the other side of the world away from them because of situations like this. I found it necessary to remove myself from the dysfunction. My life does not have any resemblance to theirs. I wonder if I can handle it. Sure, it's my brother, but he is a stranger. We weren't raised together. I saw him on holiday breaks (sometimes) and occasional trips home. Last time I was in Chicago was almost 3 years ago. I'm older by 11 years. He's a boy. He's str8. I don't live in that world. *sigh* It will be an experience for both of us.

Flip Side

2010-12-01T20:55:00.001-08:00

I had a session last night. I hadn't been seeing my therapist on the regular for a few months now. We are starting to ween me off with hopes that I will be done by my birthday (March...though I want to see her through April since I'm planning on buying a house and losing my mind in the process).
As usual, T wanted to know what was new in my life. What had been going on. I described how I had invited Elle over for dinner and I didn't hear anything from her. Nothing. No response. And it wasn't by phone, it was on the FaceSpace, so you know if you have a message or not if you log in. I found myself repeating, "Yes or no. Yes or no. All she had to say is yes or no! Yes I would like to have dinner. No, I would not like to have dinner. Is that so hard? Why is that so hard?" I leaned forward on the couch and kept at it. What the crap? You ask someone a question and they are supposed to answer it. Not ignore you. It's not cute. It's not coy. It's rude. It's ridiculous. And tacky. Why do I go for it again and again?"

T asked me if this was the person I wanted to date and I responded immediately. "No! She lost her chance. You don't do that."
I thought I was going to cry, but the urge wasn't strong enough. Instead I fell into a grumpy silence. T then asked why did I look so sad. I responded that I was disappointed in myself. Disappointed that once again I had sought out someone who was unavailable. I repeated the same dang pattern. As much as I tried to avoid it, I ended up doing the same thing. Out of all the people I had met over the summer. Randomly. Same. I pay my taxes. I'm smart, witty,and capable of conversation. I bathe regularly. Yet, from the moment of meeting, she mimicked and magnified what I so DO. NOT. WANT!!! I wanted to know why the universe was effing with me.
It is amazing what energy will do. How it draws you in. How you will repeat your patterns, that ish gets ingrained. It's a marker! Out! Out! Damn spot!
I grasped at the little things she threw my way and tried to read between the lines. I would drive myself crazy from dissecting mini conversations, looks, inflections, random texts. To no avail.
I was getting geared up for another personal flogging, when T stopped me. She said, "Wait a sec, you mean to tell me that you realized that you could not get what you wanted from this person and this happened in 4 months? It didn't take 4 years? You need to flip that coin over and look at the other side. I would say that is growth my friend."
I soooo didn't see it that way.
Yea, it is.
T said that it's okay for me to feel disappointed but to be careful about putting that on myself. Not to be disappointed in myself.
I questioned even if I wanted to remain friends with Elle. She's cool and all, but I realized that it's not just me who has the bizzare interactions. I was literally able to stand back and watch someone else do the stilted dance. Oof. And it makes me sad for Elle. Something is going on inside that girl. It's hard to explain. There is something that I can't put my finger on and that is what worries me. It's not a crazy vibe, but something is shaky there.
AND...I know that this is all my thought processes and wonders and assumptions. I could be wayyyyy off base with this.
But......
it's not for me to figure out why her walls are so high. Or why she has walls even. Nah. I'm not gonna diss her because I think she is sweet and smart, is energized and passionate about work in the community, and is really a good person, but my effort and energy will lessen (which means less disappointment and hurt. I'm such a sensitive boi) and go somewhere more positive. Like keeping my platonic lesbian girlfriend from chasing after her ex. That's more fun anyway.

Where I'm at

2010-10-28T16:21:00.001-07:00

Right now, at this moment, is in my skin. Sitting at my desk at work, watching the time tick by slowly.
Gawd this day is boring. But lucky for me my life is not. Actually, it's pretty damn cool. What's new? I broke up with someone again. And it didn't even hurt as much as I thought it would. I dumped my best friend. It was coming for a while and I knew it was time. He had reached out to me some weeks ago wanting to hang out and I just didn't have the desire. I hadn't spoken to him since the beginning of July. Initially, I agreed to see him, but since I really didn't want to, I decided against it. He replied and said whenever I wanted to call him I should.
Ooooh, gets sticky here. He deleted me from Facebook (OH SNAP!!!) which I thought was stupid. My take is that he had been checking my page and seeing what I had been up to and figured since we weren't talking in reality, why do it via social networking site. For the record, I hadn't looked at his page in a long time and had hidden him in my feed. There are only so many viral videos of people hurting themselves that a boi can take.
Anyhoodles, we get into an email conversation that quickly nose dives and turns into ranty arguments. He explains what's been going on in his life, I explain why I haven't talked to him. He calls my initial decision to stop speaking to him stupid and immature (big mistake). I rip him a new one (okay, I was pretty livid and a little mean), laying out how I've supported him over the years unconditionally and without question. I even admit that I had a part by not speaking up sooner. He tries to give me warnings about surrounding myself with people who don't challenge me and tells me when I'm ready to let go of the drama to give him a call. Ummm, since I stopped talking to you, my life has been pretty drama free.
That is what it boils down too.
I asked for support on an issue and no matter how big or how small, I expected my "best friend" to support me. He may have disagreed, but still supported me. There were countless times that I have thought that what he did, the decisions he made, and the choices were downright wrong, stupid and/or awful, but I was right there giving him a thumbs up. And I laid it on the line to him to never be put in certain situations ever again. The one time I ask for something, he shoots it down. He did not validate, acknowledge, or recognize my feelings. He minimized and dismissed them. OH HALE NAWL! I do not play that mess anymore!

I have higher standards. For myself and my friends. As I discussed this with the three people who I am closest to, they all agreed that I made the best decision for myself and that he always seemed like a self centered jerk. And I know that I romanticized the hell out of our friendship.It was hard for me to admit that. To realize that. Not to say he was a jerk all of the time, but most of the time, I did not get what I needed out of the friendship and thought I had to keep it up because we had so much history. History can carry you so far. Sure we laughed and joked and know some crazy things about each other. But he doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does. I would say, given what I've gone through since the beginning of this year, I'm not the same person. I'm a better person. Our paths began to split when I began to grow. When I began to surround myself with people who have my best interests in mind and heart. It really was only a matter of time.

Pattern Play

2010-10-20T09:12:00.000-07:00

I've still been coasting on a pretty high cloud. The documentary went very well. I was surprised at how I was able to answer the questions with such ease and no shame. I think Dr. Art was surprised at the insight that I maintained regarding my ED. And to have my Giblet there with me. She was there to give the 'friend' interview. I sat in the room while she was being filmed and could not believe what she said about me. The passion, strength, and love that came from her had me in tears. More like, my face was buried in my shirt so I would not screw up the filming. So grateful for a friend like her. So different from what once was.
The impact of the experience did not hit me until I was sitting in my car. It wasn't a fucked up in the head feeling. I felt relieved. There was no way to hide from my history any more. It's that BIG of a project. One of the questions posed was, "did you find it easier to come out as gay or as having an eating disorder". It gave me pause and I knew that coming out of the closet was easier. Sure in the face of discriminatory laws, prejudice, potential rejection from family and society at large, coming out as queer was a cake walk compared to saying that I have an eating disorder. I think people can understand the queer aspect more instead of the ED. Okay, so you like girls, I get it. Plus you have great music and work well with tools. What...you eat a shit ton then puke it up??? Insane!!!
Though much of our culture celebrates disordered eating, I don't think it's on a level where people can openly admit having food issues and working towards healing themselves. Too much blame and shame wrapped up in pretty processed packaging.
I had to get better for me because I was killing myself. Mentally and physically. It was like a drug, a compulsion, trying to chase my original high. Which really meant that I was stuffing down and shutting down my feelings. I finally realized that my drug did not work for me anymore and if I wanted to live instead of just existing, I needed help.
Seeing the changes I've made in my life feels good. Real good. I am taking life slowly, one cautious step at a time. I have to take the time to think more. When I think more, I react less and I don't give history a chance to repeat itself.

My life is like WHOA!!!!

2010-10-05T11:12:00.000-07:00

For real, I'm having a Joey from Blossom moment. I've had a quite a few over the last week or so. It's like the world has opened up to me and said, "Here ya go. We got you Boo Boo". I'm not sure where to begin, but the biggest thing is happening today. I will be filming a documentary. Or better yet, a documentary will be filmed about me regarding my ED. My therapist sent out the information to me a few weeks back. They were looking for someone outgoing (check), open (check), charismatic (I threw that one in, but check), who was willing to speak about their experience. It is going to be used as a teaching tool to give a complete profile of people with eating disorders instead of thinking about them as a list of symptoms. And when I say teaching tool, it's going to be distributed to universities and colleges across the U.S.
So, yeah. Me. Gonna be the face of bulimia when most people don't picture my face in the first place when you think about it. That is what I said to Dr. Art. Most people probably imagine some blond chick in the suburbs named Jennifer or Jessica or Amy. Not someone her grew up in the inner city. Woman of color. Queer. HA! Try to find a box to fit me for this one! It's going to be awesomely swell and I cannot believe the opportunity. Just the growth that I have had and maintained over the past several months let alone the years in which I have struggled with this. I am willingly to admit that I have an issue and that I can live with the issue. That I am not paralyzed by it anymore. I hope maybe someone who is in the class who is learning how to look at someone with this issue who may suffer from it themselves will see that once you really start to focus on yourself, truly admit that you are worth focusing on, you will be ready to get the beast off of your back.
It's the longest and most abusive relationship I've been in, and I'm glad we are breaking up.

Words from within

2010-09-21T07:53:00.000-07:00

I went to my first writing shop on Sunday. I hardly mention that I write poetry. 1), because I think the word poetry is ghei. 2) because I'm hella self conscious about what I write. When I'm feeling it and the only thing in the room is me, my composition book and a fine point pen, nothing can stop the flow of words and phrases from my brain, down my arm and out towards permanency. When I write, I create compassion and confusion. I like conjuring up images that seem impossible but the meaning is so clear.

So, I'm in this group. And it's challenging. Because we are writing about 'body image'. It was more positive than negative. We were instructed to do some exercises such as take a piece of paper and create four columns a cross section way. Pick a body part and write down what the external world tells you about it in the first column, how it's supposed to look. Beneath that, write down what it's supposed to do, what is it's "stated" purpose. In the next column write down how it should be, and beneath that, write down what it should do.

Afterward, you write freely for 5 minutes and use the style My ________ are/are not. Is/is not. Do do not.

I was so utterly intimidated because I had to pick a part of myself that I have probably loathed from a very early age. The outside voices of shame turned inside. I dug deep and pulled out words that I didn't believe existed inside of me about my body. As long as I can remember, I've wanted to change it. There have been moments of acceptance, but always with an eye in the future of wanting to shrink, tighten, lift. In the writing, I was inspired by myself that I could push away with one hand the messages of rejection and bring with the other reality and acceptance.

We shared our pieces and made sure to state "work in progress" to let the others know that it wasn't complete.
Here's my work in progress.

My belly is the keeper of the belly button
It is not ugly
it is not flat
It is not tight. Not should it be small
because it's a pillow for a lover's head
a seat for a baby's resting bottom
a cushion for the blows of verbal punches and punchlines
it is to shimmy and shake and move with laughter
it is a playground to wrap your arms around
My belly

iCan't...

2010-08-30T20:45:00.000-07:00

deal with a white person right now telling me that they were uncomfortable in a room full of other white people. Welcome to my life. I live in Portland. That is my existence every day. Well, not every day because I stole the code from them and can speak their language. But sometimes, they switch it up on my and I have to wait for my contact. Get him his mayo, then all is good again.

My supervisor who has food issues. Yes trick, I am aware that you lost 50lbs. But if I have to listen to you talk about how some foods are bad or sinful, I just might have to push you down some stairs. Don't tell me that I am justifying why I am eating a big ass sandwich (no really it's big) when I am more than 2xs your size and rode 20+ miles on my bike. I earned that greasy piece of food gluttony love!

Why don't they make gender neutral clothes? I wear mostly guy tops because the women's tops don't fit me properly. But then I have to compensate for my boobs and then my neck will be swimming in the shirt. Oh the dilemma.

That is all.

Gut feeling...

2010-08-27T16:20:00.000-07:00

I was smoking a little emotional crack recently. And got a little too wrapped up.
My therapist said, "why is it that you are telling me about dating all of these hot women, but you are still trying to get attention from your ex"?
That shut me up for a minute. She also pointed out that I needed to stop going after the relationships that replicate my original space of hurt...basically to stop dating my grandmother, and my mother, and my father (I know...ugh! Tall order) and to hang more with people who are emotionally available to me.
That's the reality of the situation. I was "raised" by people who really jacked my shit up. And for the past two plus years give or take, I've been working diligently to undo the damage that was a part of my formative years and what became my blueprint for existence. Damn that shit is hard to do!
Sometimes you think you are on a new path and things feel good and things feel right and then you realize you've taken a turn down poop lane. I hadn't gone down too far this time, but I still got poo on my shoe.

I gave T the run down of the shyt and shenanigans that had happened in my life from the past three weeks. Needless to say she was surprised at the behavior of some of my "friends" and also validated that I wasn't nutters and had the right to be upset about the circumstances which had unfolded.

I also realize that I need friends to give me space to have feelings whether negative or positive. What's been most interesting is that I have been validated on my feelings by everyone except the two people who are in the middle of it. They see it as not being such a big deal. Yeah, I need to see less of them. Relegate them to the outer circle of my life.

One of these things is not like the other.

I need to have friends who take my emotional well being into consideration especially if they state that I am very important person to them. I understand that people will make decisions for themselves and what ever is the best option for them, but damn a lot of decisions being made seem to be based on convenience.

On another note, I did talk to my grandmother. I had been avoiding her phone calls just because she can be so damn triggering sometimes. But, I had a good honest talk with her as I walked to work earlier this week. She asked me what kind of grandmother was she, and I told her, 'not the kind that baked cookies'. And how I was a sensitive child and needed to have more affection than what was given to me.
She told me that at times I pushed her away and before I could protest and say that I was only a child, she stated that she was not mature enough to recognize that I still needed to be shown love and affection. Well hot damn!
There is still a world of healing that needs to happen for me, but that conversation definitely helps with the process.

Shards, slivers, and rivers

2010-08-16T09:48:00.000-07:00

Kelly and I met for a beer and to talk. I hadn't heard from her in a week and when that happens, I knew something was up. My inner voice was speaking, my spidey senses were tingling, my keen sensibilities or whatever you want to call it let me know that there was change in the air.
I am still getting used to the idea of having all of these feelings inside and knowing what to do with all of them. To know that anger isn't the first thing that comes up. I was a big ball of sadness and hurt and pain on Saturday. I didn't realize how much infinite grief was still stored inside of me.Damn did the tears flow. I truly got my ugly cry going. My little boi has always felt the hurt and pain. It was there, right there in our faces that evening. I appreciate the openess of the conversation that we had and the honesty. And the unabashed love that Kelly and I share(d) for each other though it ended in a sticky and awful mess. She is walking her path and I am walking mine as twisted and stumbly and brambly as it may feel.
I questioned what lesson am I supposed to learn from the universe. As I become more comfortable with having an array of feelings and expressing them in a healthy manner compared to the self harm that was my go to for years, I wonder why did the universe take this emotional dump on me? Why is my strength being tested? What could be the outcome besides me feeling hopeless and powerless? I don't want to sit with that and have it be all consuming.
But, then a blessing happened. I went to the river the following day. I went with Elle (that's what I call her in my head) and her roommate. I think Elle is a fantastically awesome person! Gentle and genuine. We sat among the rocks and the rapids and swam and talked and sunned ourselves. I drove slowly and she showed off her vogueing skills. I sat against the rocks and felt the water flow around me. I put my hands in the waters and shifted and moved my hands. I closed and opened them and still watched the water flow. Just keep coming. It made me think of my life. No matter what happens or what comes in your way, you have to keep flowing. Keeping going. Move around and adjust. You might slow down, but don't stop just like the water. You can be heard as a roaring rapid or the lowing trickle could stand out.It really lifted my heart and my spirits after waking up that morning and crying. It was a day that I really needed. Thank you my friend.
When I finally got home for the night. I still thought about my lesson...what is it? And something popped into my head like a sharp piercing light, "don't let it happen to her". I'm not sure how to make it not happen, but if I have Kelly's ear as a friend, I will try my best to get across to her to take the time for herself. If she truly and honestly wants to pursue a future with someone else, to give herself the time to fully and completely heal. That is not what happened between she and I. We were so eager for that love and newness and attention and thought it would conquer other pain, but it just makes it more difficult for self healing and self love. I guess this is where the compassion for my enemies comes into play. I wonder if it will be a lesson heard. Or a lesson learned.

Utter Dilemma

2010-08-12T17:37:00.000-07:00

I am not really at my wits end, but I am completely unsure how to handle something. And when I say 'handle', I mean what to do with how I feel about it'. Mainly because the reasoning is perfect on a practical level. But what are your options, when you (meaning myself) are coming from an emotional perspective? It's hard to think about growth when the changes that occur seem too unreal and unimaginable. What to do when your really good friend wants to move and seemingly his only option is to move in with your ex's most recent person she dated. He has minimal requirements of wanting to live with someone who pays their bills on time and isn't psycho ( the jury is still out in my opinion).
I am five months out from not living with Kelly anymore. We have JUST started talking again. It gets mucky with who is talking to whom and who is not dating and interacting. And I am giving myself permission to not have compassion or care about someone else's hurt and pain. I know I was trying, but I am just not there. Yet. Or maybe ever.
Why does Portland have to be so friggin' tiny? Why does it feel like my personal circle is being encroached upon? Why can't she get her own friends and not mine! *tosses self on back and kicks feet in the air*
I recognize that I am feeling powerless. What will R's and I relationship look like if he moves forward with this? I won't be able to come over less I am sedated cause I might punch a broad (ok, not really, but I keep thinking it). Gatherings will be shifted. No Thanksgiving anymore at his place. Sure, he can come to my place and we can hang out there. I mentioned why not we live together, but since I am looking to buy a house, he wouldn't want to move again within a year. *sigh*
I am soooo not wanting to be adult about this. Nope. Not in the least.

I later talked to Russell about it and reiterated my points. It was a good discussion...I think? LOL.
Ultimately, I think he understands that it's a bit too much to expect me to be okay with the potential scenario. It's all too soon and a little too close to the surface for me. Additionally, he really can't relate because there is no emotional equivalent in his life for comparison. How bout them apples?

My typical reaction

2010-08-03T13:23:00.000-07:00

to getting used to a new emotion or behavior is "That's just weird". What I've noticed lately is that, it's not so weird. Being more open to my own emotions, the ones that I had always stuffed down or ignored is not weird. They float to the surface of my consciousness and I leave them there to linger. I think the struggle really came from fighting the feeling for the sake of not wanting to feel anything. Feeling was foreign if it wasn't anger. That was the easiest to access for myself.
I feel confident in my feelings. Giving myself space and time to honor what is inside and to let it show on the outside. I've had the help of others who are supporting me in new friendships and entrusting me with their secrets and insecurities. There is a genuine glow and shine to me which I believe was always there, but got covered in the tarnish of not loving or believing I was deserving of love. And whatever was underneath is starting to come through and people are liking what they see. I am liking what I see.
I'm working on coming from a place of compassion and kindness. Without judgment or harsh words for myself and others. I would thrive on "being right" and having my, "I told you so" moments. I thought it would be satisfying. It never really was because there was so much anger underneath. K and I were talking (yes we are) about the dissolution of her dating situation and I genuinely listened in order to understand Stevey's pain around their not dating anymore.
Typically, I woulda been like, fuck that heaux, she was stupid in the first place for thinking, ex why and zee and sucks to you for not being able to see that...but I really worked to make space in my heart because someone is hurting around matters of the heart. Being hurt is never the ending that you want to have. And ultimately, she is human as am I.

Mulling

2010-07-29T14:29:00.000-07:00

Chewing on this...
I needed to learn to trust her, to trust Kelly. I didn't believe that she trusted me. I needed to feel safe and I didn't believe her because of the hurt I felt before- real or imagined. With each part of my past and my life I revealed to her I expected her to reject me. To be creeped out. To have pity. But she didn't. She admired and still loved me. I didn't.
We couldn't hear each other. We couldn't listen to each other. It hurt too much to hear beyond our own pain. Our own personal pain that needed to be lessened. That needed to be eased on our own. By ourselves. Though I believe we wanted the other person to lessen the pain. To ease it.
When that didn't happen, that is where and when we hurt. Where we suffered "alone". Or made the other person suffer. We needed to grow in our own way. And our personal growth bumped and scraped and clashed with each other.
I do believe we are coming out splendid on the other side. Still, we needed to separate in order to grow.
While we were together, when there still was that willingness to connect, I wanted to build that structure. Our structure around communication. Even if it was rudimentary and rough around the edges. I wanted to learn how to talk to Kelly, to let her know I wasn't teasing. To apologize if she thought I had been. That it was not my intention. To reassure her that I did have her best interest in my mind and heart which would lead to having my best interest- our best interest.
Instead, I came to despise her sensitivity, her willingness to help others, her openness. Because I led a life so guarded. So full of broken trusts and commitments. Because we became so broken and we both rejected the core qualities in the other person that pulled us together initially.
Because I struggled to accept that about myself.
Such madness and sadness.

I want what I want

2010-07-27T10:15:00.000-07:00

And I hate when I don't get it. Right now, I am struggling with time. I feel like I don't have enough of it. Time to find a new place before my mother and sister arrive for a visit in September. Time to find outfits for a friend's wedding. Time to save money so I can buy a home by next July. Time to learn more about myself and be used to the idea of being friends with someone first before pursuing something more intimately involved.
I want it all right now and just want to shake my fists and stomp my feet.
I'm having an intellectual tantrum. And the intellectual tantrum is morphing into a physical one. I promise not to judge myself on my behaviors.
I know that I am feeling frustrated about not having enough money to do everything at once. I'm being a responsible adult and paying down debt. I'm being a responsible adult and saving money. I want to be less responsible and spend everything. However, doing that would be an affront to my very nature. Boo! Hiss! I have friends who make twice as much as I do and I have more $$$ saved, so I must be doing something right.

As for the idea of being friends first with someone. It's such a new concept. And I realize that it's a new concept for a lot of people. When you are friends or making friends, I would think it takes at least six months to a year to build a friendship. And then add another six months to solidify that. Or maybe it takes less. I don't know.
What I mean is that I am not going to start dating or sleeping with anyone that I think could be potential GF material after only knowing them for a month or two. Yea, I said it. That's how things went down the last time. And the time before...kinda...actually, that was much more scandalous. I did make them get an STI screening first!
And what is dating really? The more questions I ask about how to date, the more it's just you make it up as you go along. I think the key is to do it with more confidence and no one will know the difference.

I'm on my way

2010-07-12T22:53:00.000-07:00

to recognizing love.
Real love.
I am having the most awesome-est experiences to help me along that path.

Looka this picture right here.

Lots of love going on. I was celebrating the Bach party of two good friends (bachelor/bachelorette party combined) with a whole gang of other folks. We tore up Seattle! Okay, not really, but we all had a really good time. Sure I woke up with a tie on my head and a pain in my liver, but I always had a smile on my face.
The friendships have been built on trust, commitment,respect, communication, affection, loyalty and care. These are the ingredients that I take with me. That I am cherishing and relishing. Which will help me when I consider entering another relationship. I look back with my jaw a bit unhinged when I realize how much I did NOT have those makings in previous relationships. We see what we want to see and not what's really there. When people don't live up to who we think they are, we cry (Thanks, T!).
I had a friend text me today to say that he wanted me to meet someone. He gave me her "stats". No kids, funny, not skinny, etc. Then after my interest was piqued, he said, "she's not out". Hold the phone! Nope. Not interested. Been there. Done that. Not compromising on that one. If you are unwilling/unable to be truthful about your sexuality to those closest to you, what else are you going to be hiding?
I cannot describe how completely and utterly grateful I am to have these friendships. New friendships, strengthening friendships, to lead me along the path I am walking now. I know I am not alone. Whoo hoo!

Wish I could...

2010-07-05T12:01:00.000-07:00

...cast a spell and get some things out of me. I was watching the final Harry Potter trailer and found myself getting emotional. Why? It's not like I really care about the fictional, tragic British teen that was introduced a decade ago that got millions of kids reading again. I'm not going to miss butter beer or trying to figure out how to pronounce spells.
I found myself feeling something because of how I was really introduced to Mr. Potter. It was through Kelly. She loved(s) those books and movies. Whenever she was/is stressed or tired, she just throws on one of the movies and goes about cooking, cleaning, cuddling the cat. She would get excited at seeing a trailer or knowing a movie release date. When I would read the books and it got to a really intense part, she would watch my reaction to see what I thought. Like Dumbeldore getting killed. I just closed the book and went to bed in a huff.
My chest tightened because the trailer and movies and books remind me of her. As much as I have cut her out of my life, there are remnants everywhere. The physical is gone, but the memories remain. The humor we could share and easy conversations. BUT....everything happens for a reason (BOO!!! CLICHE!). And this is one of those.

Vacation Awaken

2010-07-03T09:47:00.000-07:00

Vacation did a number on me. It was overwhelming, enticing, and exhausting. I went to San Francisco for pride and stayed with a friend in Oakland. I was excited to see people of color given that in Portland, it's the land of the pale booties. I have a great cache of friends though something had been missing for me. I needed folks with melanin in my life.
Going to Oakland, as soon as I landed, there was brown, brown everywhere. Inside of my heart cracked and melted and I was warm inside. When I got to April's place and there were crack heads outside, I was kinda gleeful. Yay, no meth heads. I loved coming in late at night (errr, early morn) and seeing the T-girls standing outside looking fierce. Walking through the city of Oakland, going to the store, walking Lake Merritt, all sorts of folk. If Portland could boost it's POC population another 12-15%, it would be the perfect place to live.
I felt beautiful there. I felt noticed. Though I didn't hook up with anyone while I was there, women were vocal about my attractiveness. That does not happen in Pdx. No pierced lip, backwards baseball cap for me.
But fuck it.
I'm shedding the skin of uncertainty that covered me when I was with Kelly. I teach my youth about self perception. How others see us is what influences how we see ourselves. With K, I felt she didn't see me at times. I was invisible. I think I made myself that way too. Me. 5'11. Unseen. I'm glad that cataracts has been scraped away and my vision is clearing up. I know that I'm gorgeous. I'm handsome. I'm cute. I've been finding my voice in asking women out. Even though my wordsgetstrungtogetherrapidlyasItrytospitout my invite, I still ask them out. And they say yes in return.
I'm on a mission to make myself happy. I'm armed with my smile, charm, self assurance, Chucks, a bottle of water and a pack of gum. I've been meeting the most fabulous people as of late. Online and in real life. People that I hope to one day call my friends. I think these are the gifts that I'm supposed to be open to as a horoscope said some time ago. My friend/coworker Tenalp overheard me having a conversation with my mother about how I am not friends with someone who I was "close" with the last time my mom visited. Tenalp commented saying that since she's known me, she has seen how much I am working on surrounding myself with people who are supportive and how much I've cut out the BS and people who are draining. I've been tuning into my energy. Who I am giving it to and who I am receiving it from and how it feels. I am not fighting for friendships. *does fist pump*

Not sure

2010-06-10T13:16:00.000-07:00

of what to title this post.
I've thought about "Freedom". Or "End of the Road". Or bluntly "Closure". I decided to drop communication and connection with Kelly. Why you say? Because I was tired. And tired of being tired. And tired of associating her name with frustration and disappointment. We were supposed to meet earlier in the week to "clear the air" and to have respectful and honest conversation. I received an email from her stating what it was that she wanted to talk about. The day arrives and I get a text 20 mins before asking if I got the email. I replied that I had and that I would see her in 20. She then said, no, I'm not ready to see you yet. No where in the email did she state that. No, hey thanks for meeting me, but I can't do it right now. Can we reschedule? It was more, hey, I don't want to talk to you about everything yet. What the hell does that mean?
I asked if she wanted to talk by phone and she replied that email would be best for now. I then stated that words have a different connotation when read compared to when they are said. She said she would take that into consideration when reading it.
I tried my best to convey what it is that I felt. I explained why I needed to end the relationship compared to what has occurred since then. I also explained how hurt I was for my name to be dragged into the drama caused by other people. But as I thought about what her reaction would be and what she would say, I came to realize that she wouldn't say anything. She is as non confrontational as they come. That's fine if you don't want to be non confrontational, but in turn it becomes non communicative. I am not reading from that playbook anymore.
So, I wrote another email explaining why I would no longer be associating myself with her and her new partner. Her new partner said some pretty skeevy things about me when she was in her previous relationship. While Kelly and I were together. Ugh. That makes me uncomfortable as hell. Nothing was said directly to me (I need to start writing that on my forehead) but still. How can you make such a claim (that I hated her) when we barely exchanged words? Hell, she wouldn't even make eye contact with me. Ummm, correct me if I'm wrong, but that means you have the issue, not me.
So, essentially, it came down to me saying that on the surface things were fine, but underneath she must have had things going on. Suffice it to say, as life has played out, she did and I was none the wiser though we sat together and talked about a ton of things. I guess if you lie to yourself about something, you eventually convince yourself that it must be true. So, when opposite happens, you can be surprised. So much for self awareness.
I waited too long for Kelly to come around. Too many times in our relationship I gave my energy because I believed that something good could happen. That someday she would wake up and see me for the fantastic support and encourager that I was for her. And I know that I didn't get a fraction of the encouragement that I gave. Hell it took me a while to realize, but something good did happen. I got myself back!

Feels like...

2010-05-28T07:33:00.000-07:00

I can't keep my eyes open though I got about 7.5 hours of sleep. I am emotionally tired. I've been trying to take the high road in a lot of situations that have come up recently and it's exhausting to say the least.
This last week with T in town wasn't the magical fuck fest that I had imagined. We were finally able to connect on Thursday after a series of missteps and unsent texts.I posted a well wishing to her page and it's not there. I'm trying not to give it much thought and that's hard to do right now. After being called a gentleman and told that she had feelings for me and blatherly blah, blah. I know that it had been barely two weeks, but a little consideration would be nice. Really, that's all I ask for in general. I don't need long drawn out explanations of feelings and circumstances. If you say you are going to to something, do it. I hate being left in the dark on things.
Kinda like with K. Sure I speculated on what was going to happen in her life. Lo and behold, it happened. Even though it feels like spit in the eye, I wish her well. Feels like she gave V more consideration because at least she told him what she was thinking of doing. I on the other hand, found out through the other person who was on the other "losing" end.
There is a part inside of me that wanted to be evil, that wanted to be hurtful, but other events changed the situation and sanity won out. I told R that I couldn't do it because what would other people think of me. He flipped it and said what would you think of yourself. Funny, how I don't consider my own feelings still.
I think it's that little kid that just wants to mean something to someone. To not be the last kid picked up from camp. To not have a birthday forgotten. To be greeted with smiles instead of smacks. That has to count for something right?

I'm coming back to this post because I've marinated on what I had originally written and I think I have hit onto something. I think T was placed into my path for a very clear lesson to be learned. I received validation from her as a woman of color. I was able to share stories and feelings with her freely about living in a city that is 78.6% white. As a queer woman. About my "otherness". She was able to access and hold a very sexual part of my self that felt dormant and drained while I was with K. T awakened it. She threw hot oil onto it! Put smelling salts near it! Thing is, it's alive again.
She also put out there what she had available. Immediately I knew glaring red flags. Things that are a pretty strong "must haves" in another relationship. I think it was good practice for me. Though I did feel like I was tying on my cape for another Captain Sav-a-Hoe routine (she is not one, I just like the saying). I dangled myself a bit with similar results. Okay. Lesson learned! I get it now. I really do.

Growth

2010-05-26T23:41:00.000-07:00

Is what I have had over the past few months. I recognize that. I'm tuning in to my instincts and listening to them. I have had people say doubts when I voiced my opinion, but when I was proven right, I definitely went back and said 'Aha, toldja so'. I just can't help it. It's somewhat overwhelming and somewhat settling to know that I plan to trust myself more. Sure, for most folks who haven't had the laundry list of issues that I am slowly crossing off, that might sound weird. But, that inner voice. That push in the back of the brain that tells me to choose right instead of left.To go up instead of down. That whispers that it's okay, I am going to give it a more secure spot. More front and center because I am taking the time to listen more. Listen to myself. That gut feeling. You know how everyone says that they should trust their gut? Well, it's true. I'm typically spot on when I get a whiff of someone's personality. And if I can't get a whiff of it, then something is totally off about you to me. People say, why didn't you give so-n-so a chance. If the whiff is bullshit, you can keep on pushing.
Point is, I've come a long way. And the more I grow, the more I'm stable. The more I'm me.

Affirmation

2010-05-16T19:31:00.000-07:00

is the word of the day. If I could measure it, I wonder what the category of weight would be. Cups? Grams? Metric tons? Stones? I've been getting a lot of it and that is what matters the most. My heart has been light and my soul feels uplifted. Sure, work has been a bore and a drag. K is not speaking to for some fantastic reason that only she knows and I am not bothered by it. I always asked her for communication and being open. If I didn't get that in the relationship, why would things change once it was over?
I have been grateful for the changes that have happened in my life in the past week. I took a leap of faith and landed nicely. Things are turning out beautifully for me. It's wondrous to receive affirmations, reception and validation. Especially about issues that I have never been able to discuss with friends because there is NO way they would be able to understand. No that they wouldn't try, but it's just impossible I think when you don't have any one that looks like you to really connect with. It saddens me at times, but I think the universe is giving me a great gift this moment in time. I am enjoying it immensely and to the fullest.

Nature vs. Nuture.

2010-04-30T13:08:00.001-07:00

Today I woke up with a smile on my face. Though I was tired from a night of dancing and watching people and people watching me. I've been taking a look not from the inside, but from the outside and really seeing how people see me. Seeing the positive feedback, the trust, the care that my friends have on their face when we are really connecting. I've had one friend open up and trust me immensely. It's wonderful to be able to fill that role. So many positive strokes that have left me feeling uplifted and has crowded out the voices of doubt that were so familiar. And the attention that I'm getting is a welcoming change too. Onward!

Don't want to talk about it

2010-04-20T09:37:00.001-07:00

Just want to be about it.
There is always time for stumbles and self doubt. I think I am getting over a really big one. As much as I hate the idea or the saying "two steps forward, one step back", I have to admit that it is where I am at currently.
In regards to my break up, I've been having all of these doubts in my mind as to whether or not it was the right choice for me. I reread old journal entries before our last go and realize, yeah, I had it written down two years ago that it was going to be scary and challenging and as much as I wanted to be open for renewal, I was still hesitant and fearful.
And I'm impatient with myself and my feelings and getting over the relationship for real! There is no rock I can hide under. No cover I can pull over my head and shut my eyes to make another day go by faster. I just have to keep plugging away. Letting the tears as reluctant as I am when it happens, come until they are done. I've cried more in the past two months openly and freely than I have in the past two years. That has to mean something. Something good. In getting more in touch with my emotions.
In regards to my ED, damn. I was getting too comfortable with the idea of not purging. Like I had put it on a shelf and made faces at it. I could feel the fullness in my stomach and not give it a second thought. Oh, how tricky emotions are. Sure it's still going to pop up, and I'm not kicking my ass over it so much. I am looking forward to my mental health meeting this week. I am looking forward to dancing on Friday. And riding my bike tomorrow.
I'm looking forward.

Struggles...

2010-03-17T17:26:00.000-07:00

...are popping up everywhere for me. Not physical ones, but emotional ones. Since ending my relationship with K, I've been looking back at our time together. Themes keep popping up for me.
Dependability and commitment. I question that.
My eating disorder has definitely been a struggle for me. In one way that I wanted to have some order around not being too hungry or having difficulty with making decisions around meals was to have meal planning. When we were in therapy, that was one of the tasks we were given to do. Did it happen? Nope. Put off. Back burner. A five minute conversation on hold forever. However, once the relationship ended, K was planning things out for days to come. O_o.
I asked her to stop bringing home pastries from the bakery that she works at because they were a magnet of madness for me. Did that happen? Ummm.....pink boxes would pop up with out explanation. I found myself indulging at times. Other times, I would just throw the stuff away. I wonder if there was an underlying theme of sabotage there.
For me, it always came down to actions. You can say that you support someone, but actions show what you are really about.
I think about the times that I took care of K when she was sick or had cramps, or generally was in a bad mood and then I think about when I needed that moment of care or understanding and how often I was scolded for being in my situation or chose to deal with it on my own out of fear of lack of concern or being burdensome. Boi, how effed up is that? And to see how many times K jumped at the chance to help out at work and feeling unappreciated or all that she did wrong was pointed out. Or helped out friends and felt unappreciated, but was still willing to give. I wonder why I didn't get the same consideration? Granted taken. I, me, the one that the life was being shared with. I know I won't have the answer for that and probably never will. Still hurts nonetheless. And definitely adds a brick to my wall of resentment.
Conditional. That is what the relationship was. Conditional.
Ugh.

It's a new day

2010-03-13T12:31:00.001-08:00

It's a new dawn. It's a new life for me.
To put it frankly, I ended my relationship with K. It was time. Putting myself first was a strange thing. Making the decision to end it was difficult, but I was done being put on the back burner for work, for friends, for whatever new distraction came along that took away from the relationship. So, I had to put me first and fight with the feelings of comfort and familiar and second guessing in order to reach for the feelings of worth and well being. I trust myself now to make the best decisions for myself. It's a skin that I've slipped into and it feels good.
Now..onward. Water aerobics (because I'm across the park from the center). Zumba...oh, how I've missed the sweat and pulsing music and smiles from everyone having fun. And tattoo. New ink is on the way for me. Once I felt the tingling of wanting another tattoo, I knew change was coming. And I have changed for good.

Right now,

2010-02-18T17:04:00.000-08:00

the most important thing to me is my health. My mental health. I've been experiencing stressful sensations that have kept me awake at night (last night I was up at 330a), kept my stomach churning and my jaws tight. I don't like it when I'm stressed out. It's been a while since it's been in full effect. On Saturday, I plan to go to fat yoga. I'm excited. When I first moved to Pdx, 3 years ago (totally didn't celebrate my anniversary because of some BS), I was interested in finding a yoga class for some plus sized chicks. I got a lot of responds about it but no one knew of any. Alas, some time later, a friend of mine put me on some information that has lead me to my first plus size yoga class. How exciting. AND the woman who will be teaching it wrote an article for BITCH magazine some time ago about how she was a part of the fat acceptance community until she realized that being hella fat wasn't healthy. And when she lost weight, she was shunned. I think I'm recapping it right. Anyway, I thought it was a fantastic article and she is going to be the instructor. I wonder if I have the emails somewhere in my inbox and maybe I can pass the info along to those other women that I connected with so long ago. Or..it might have been a part of my yahoo account which does not exist anymore. Oh well. I'm excited. I am turning my energy inward and renewing myself. Whoo hoo!

Madamoiselle...

2010-02-08T17:02:00.000-08:00

It's almost comical. Some ridiculous Shaekspearean comedy. Which in reality isn't funny and in the end everyone dies and you sleep with your mom...or something like that.
When I left two weeks ago, it wasn't because I stopped loving you. It was because I stopped feeling anything and that was scary. For me. We hadn't been really talking for weeks. Words would come out, but it wasn't a conversation.
In the days and the weeks that followed, I spent a lot of time thinking but could not come up with an answer. Or I couldn't come up with an answer that stuck.
Now, that I have my answer, or what I think should be the answer, seems like a different question is being asked.
Every moment that we've spent together has felt like how it has supposed to be (minus the times the tears took over conversation and those were even welcomed). When we've gone to bed and slept closer than we had in months. Reached for each other in our sleep and held hands in the midst of dreaming. Awake to another day and relish the warmth between the sheets. Face wrinkles and stale breath. Still we didn't get up. We laughed. And snuggled and slept.
Now what?
We've talked and acknowledged that our 'foundation' isn't strong. We need to build or repair that foundation. If we are building, still committed to building this life, then going to our own spaces and setting up different plots is not going to make this happen. I know I'm a fan of metaphors, so being clear, us living separately and being in our own spaces is not going work. With the support that we have, personal and professional, if we cannot make this work together, it's, this, us, is not going to work.

The Quiet Storm

2010-01-20T08:59:00.001-08:00

is rumbling. Right beneath the surface. Waters on top are still and serene, yet I know there is trouble brewing, bubbling, raging deep down.
When the chaos turns quiet, that's when I can actually listen to what my body wants and what my body needs. I'm at a high stress level, low emotional level right now. Nothing is really registering. The sick beauty of it is that I can make food decisions as if I was a normal person. Eat when hungry. Stop when full. I can go to the gym and the time flies by. Not trying to calculate how many possible calories have I burned or how wet is my t-shirt to gauge the validity of working out.
I've stopped talking at home. Why bother since it hasn't done any good so far. It's like we were trying to speak the same language and one of us has an Italian book and the other on has a German book. I feel poured out and spread out like watery pancake batter. No form. No consistency. Feeling undone.

Yippee!!!

2010-01-17T12:38:00.000-08:00

I have a follower! YESSS!!!! Welcome! Hello! Bienvenidos! I hope I am saying something that you find worthy of reading. Thank you for finding my blog. I am honored. Thank you for reading.
-peace
SmithnPdx

Sometimes....

2010-01-17T11:52:00.000-08:00

that mountain feels too hard to climb. I just want to lie down on one of the edges and catch my breath. My mountain can be anything. My job. My relationship. My health. My weight. My past demons and current ones. As long as I am still on the mountain and I don't turn around to start to descend, I'm okay I believe. But fuck it's tempting.
I think the biggest mountain that I have to climb is the mental one that makes me want to quit. The one that keeps me in bed when the alarm goes off at 5am. The one that is a reflex of bad habits and ancient pain that still creeps up to this day.
Maybe I shouldn't think of it in such grand terms. It's always a fight, or a challenge. What about a new prospect? A new adventure. That sounds less daunting instead of mountain climbing. Because the air gets thin and you need a lot of equipment to survive.
Still, I am equipped. Instead of counting calories and minutes of sweat. I'm packing my bags with a different kind of knowledge. There are two books that have helped me take a different path this time around. Health at Every Size and Intuitive Eating. Both of these books are making my life easier (when I remember to read them) and really breaks down why diets don't work. How to push back against a society that upholds unattainable standards of beauty and weight. I came across Health at Every Size because it was referenced by Crystal Renn , a hella successful plus size model (I am quite aware that Ms. Renn doesn't fit the "traditional" definition of plus size, but that's the category she's in for the fashion industry). Intuitive Eating was a referral from my therapist. I will use these as my armor when I am doubting myself and dropping ellbees become the priority. Instead of relearning my hunger cues. Eating until I'm full and not stuffed. Not denying myself because it's considered "bad or "sinful". Moving because I want to, not because I have to. Definitely the new prospect. The new challenge. It just makes sense.

Feliz New Year!

2010-01-09T16:48:00.001-08:00

With the start of the new year, I should have something profound to say. How I'm going to start on a better new, more revived and refinished note. I say, later for that. I started my "resolution" a few weeks prior (points for originality). I decided that I was going to be more open. More open to changes. More open to things staying the same. More open to the emotions that I am not used to showing. More open to the things I want to do instead of the things I think I should be doing.
I'm cutting myself more slack this year. In order to be more kind and not have such negative thoughts. Trying to remember the lessons that I am committing to learning (is that grammatically correct?) from the books that are helping me break that mental cycle. The mental trap that I have been caught in for more than half of my life.

Me and Bobby McGee

2009-12-15T11:54:00.000-08:00

While bored at work and doing little to remedy the situation, I’ve been thinking about the past few days maybe going back a week or so and needing to take time to appreciate stuffs. And people. For instance, my bestie. I wouldn’t never really call him that to his face, but this is just pop culture sneaking in and taking over. My bff. My road dog. My friend until the end. We have never had a major argument. We have known each other for almost 15 years. I’ve seen the pretty parts. And I’ve definitely seen the ugly parts. I love that man. I appreciate his honesty, his forwardness, his humor and his flaws.
I think our friendship has morphed since I have been living in Portland. We are taking a grown up stance compared to the shenanigans of our college days. Sure, there are still shenanigans, but we have more money to deal with them! I’ve made sure to tell him how much he means to me and to try and do more activities beyond our brunch having, Target shopping, movie watching, Saturday get togethers.
Who would have thought that a working class white boy from Saginaw, MI and a working class black gurl from the South Side of Chicago would have ever come together like we have? Both queer (well, he’s gay). He's my outer gay male. I'm his outer lesbian. We are the opposite same reflections of one another (could I use another metaphor?).Both tattooed. Both with jacked up relationships with food. Nothing like a Dorito being your reward instead of a hug. Both trying to come out on the other side standing.

Step up...

2009-12-09T10:17:00.000-08:00

I kept trying to explain myself. How do I get to the point when I am falling, that I can stop myself mid tumble? I could see myself in my mind going head over heels. Falling down stairs. Falling off of a ladder. Trying to reach out and grab a rung only to come up empty handed or to have a weak grasp and watch my fingers lose their grip cartoonishly one by one. I push my fists into my eyes and shout that I don’t want to talk anymore, I want to go and drown myself in food. To drink. To not try to solve anything. Had the picture of a dimly lit bar and a plate piled high with my drug of choice brightly shining in my brain.
Soon as I said that, the feeling melted away. Everything melted away. And I was back on the couch, sitting. T’s face came back into focus. She had the look of a therapist’s concern and I tried to search her eyes for a sliver of something more. At that moment I felt unrefined and weary. Tired of making sense of my past. Tired of making sense of my present. Tired of talking about things that I have talked about before and the words to explain my feelings getting caught on the feelings I couldn’t put into words.
I felt anger and smallness. Damage and desire. Seeing the pile of myself on the floor, knowing I had to get up and keep going. Finding comfort in myself when standing on the precipice of change. My old coping skills aren’t doing it for me anymore. My new ones aren’t completely solid as much as I want them to be. That fine line of balance that I know which side I want to land on.

Cementing

2009-11-14T14:11:00.000-08:00

I swam in the pool after riding the spin bike. The spin bike wasn't comfortable. I made it through with herky-jerky movements and didn't keep standing as the computer prompted me to do so. When I moved on to the pool, I figured it would be another mental and physical challenge for myself. How many more calories can I burn? How long can I last? How far can I push myself?
With a persistent cough in my chest, I moved up and down the lane. Eying each person who entered the area with skepticism. Would they enter my lane and judge my lack of form? Would they lap me and have more grace in the water? I let out a mental sigh of relief when they would head towards the other lanes or move from one steam room to the hot tub. Finally I entered a rhythm, breast stroke, front crawl, side stroke. Whatever would propel me from one end of the pool to the other. My arms reached out in anticipation to touch the wall and start all over again. It wasn't a perfect dance. I just went back and forth. Breathing every complete stroke, breathing every other complete stroke. I stopped at the end of each lap or half lap to catch my breath. I stopped when I choked on water. I always started again. My mind pushed the exercise out of the way and memories floated to the surface like my body floated in the water. With each passing stroke, each reach to pull myself forward, I felt like I was floating away from my past. Getting further and further from the reach of the pain. Each time my head broke surface and I exhaled I let out my molestation. I let out my abuse. And it wasn't hard. The pool became my life. Carrying me from one side to the other. I was just moving through my living. Living in the water, being supported by the water. Not drowning in it. Moving in my life makes me stronger. The chlorine stung my eyes like bitter tears that have fallen when I haven't been able to understand the pain that I have gone through or why I just could not forget. The pain is a part of me, but it isn't me.
In the struggle with my eating disorder, the pain is what I have caused myself from the pain caused by others. It is starting to cement, really cement how my life has a value that I really believe, that I feel, that is not comparable to any one else's. It allows me to take another breath, do another lap and keep swimming through my life.

Cement

2009-11-13T07:58:00.000-08:00

I really think that things are starting to come together for me. I am starting to believe the things that I have talked about for years. Heck, leaving my therapist's office yesterday, I smacked my ass and said "I'm awesome"! And it's true. Damn it feels great to say that! I rock.

I'll get into detail more, but at this very moment, I heart myself. The size of my body doesn't matter, the style of clothes doesn't matter. I feel good and that is what does matter. mmmhmmm.

Yesterday I remembered

2009-10-30T13:07:00.000-07:00

That I am a beautiful woman. A gorgeous woman. It was defined in my walk. When I went to the grocery store and I watched as you and your husband glanced at me. It was slight, but it was a look still. I know how the camisole fabric hugged against the curve of my breast. Stretchy and supportive. Highlighted and silhouetted. My Double-H boots punctuate each step that I take. Rocking my hips from side to side. Creating a rhythm that lacks when I just wear my Converse.
It was in her eyes. I don’t know who she was and I didn’t care to find out. I scanned the crowd casually to see if there was anyone who mattered. Not one could make that mark. Still, she mouthed, “Hi” and I let my eyes drift again. So easy, but not easy enough.
I was able to forget for one night that I didn’t have a problem. That I am in active recovery. That my imperfections were hidden under my cotton shirt and tucked inside my leather boot.

Gadgets and gizmos aplenty

2009-10-16T15:26:00.000-07:00

Is what I think about when I acknowledge that I have again joined a gym with the goal of improving my health. Screw saying lose weight because that is just not what I can focus on at the moment. 24hr Fitness to be exact. Have I set foot into said gym? Nope. Was going to do it on Wednesday, but started my period. Will I go tomorrow? Depends on what excuse I can come up with to get myself out of it.
Sounds a bit Debbie Downer-ish doesn’t it. It is. I am excited to foray into the world of exercise again. I get really bored and distracted with my general routine. BUT! BUT! BUTT!! I will rise to the challenge of keeping my self engaged. I have found clothing that fits and are appropriate (do you know how difficult it is to find a DDD sports bra) meaning not cotton, moisture wicking, quick dry kinda clothes.
I admit it’s damn hard to get motivated. But they have TVs on some of the bikes and work out equipment. If I want, I can get on a stair climber and have my own personal TV. SUH-WEET. It’s the little things that matter.
The little things will build onto the bigger ones. When I work out, I binge less. When I binge less, I purge less. Not to say that I have been having rampant binges lately. That has not been a part of my routine in a while (thank you therapy), but I still have been purging just for purging sakes. I’ve just been through 3 weeks of hell with my schedule and some not so fun happenings in my life. Luckily, all is re-normalizing itself. Whatever that means.
I wish myself good luck. God speed and all that jazz.

It is awesome

2009-09-25T11:46:00.000-07:00

...to admit that I do not have my shit together. But, by whose ruler am I measuring?
Anyhoodles, I cannot stand it when people, friends, we, are unable to admit the pitfalls or shortcomings in our lives. Usually they come out during drunken rambles fueled by dark liquor, Merlot, or well drinks. Once the vodka haze has passed, people button themselves up again, arrange their emotions and slap a plastic smile on their face.

What keeps us from having the emotional opening, that vulnerability, the willingness to say, I am not okay or I was not okay, but I am still fabulous? I am still strong. I believe that it gives you a deeper understanding towards a person's behaviors and actions.
From my experiences in this country, we would rather eat, drink, smoke, snort, fuck, shop, buy or inject our emotions instead of having that interaction and realization that more people have had those same experiences and we are not alone. Fuck, am I even making any sense?

Look, when I reflect back on my life, it looks like something that would be shown on the Lifetime Channel or Oxygen channel. I have witnessed so much fucked-uppedness and I consider myself lucky that I did end up more fucked up.

Sure more people can understand/accept/tolerate alcoholism, but puke your food or starve yourself or have obsessions surrounding food...nah, that has that special twist of WTF all on its own. Even though it's quite the non-phenomenon in the USA or should I say the Western World, to be splattered with images of sleek, sculpted, skeletal women and have them be representative of the beauty standard.
And who am I kidding, fat jokes are funny. I remember the first super popular from when I was younger. 'Yo mama so fat, she uses a VCR as a beeper'. I didn't find it funny when I was younger, but that is because I didn't get it.

Main thing is, society didn't create this issue for me. My eating disorder. It's a total family construct. Stemming from unhealthy relationships with relatives which led to unhealthy relationships with food. Food was used as a tool to console, to humiliate, to control. But those explanations can be held off for another day.

The saying goes, "time heals all wounds". I believe that is true, but you have to make sure you take care of those wounds so you can then deal with the scar that is left behind. I am estatic to admit that my scar is fading.

Heck yea

2009-09-24T08:57:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when you just don't know what to do, you have to do what feels right. I hadn't been on my bike in about two weeks and I was bursting at the seams because of the awkward tension at home. I decided that I was going to go to water aerobics for the evening. I set out and made my way through the neighborhoods, helmetless (yea I know) with the Pointer Sisters blasting in my ears. I made it to the Rec Center only to find the doors darkened with a note posted on the windows stating that the building was closed for routine maintenance. Well isn't that just fantastic?
I decided that I was just going to put around town for a while and see how far I could get. Before I ended up in Sellwood, I returned K's call to see where she was at. Lo & behold, she was at a favorite watering hole and asked if I wanted to join. Of course I agreed and set out. Mind you, I've never really gone super far on my bike. I've usually idled within my neighborhood or just gone to work. I had to tap into the knowledge that I have about the city and tried to remember the bike routes. I am not one of those people who feel they have to prove themselves by riding on the main corridors. Give me a side street any day!
I did find myself on Stark St. and was sent into a momentary panic as I tried to get to a less traveled path. After over shooting my destination, I finally made it to Roadside Attraction and had one...okay, two of the tastiest Czech Pilsners that I have ever had. It was nice to get out. Second day of autumn, but summer is still holding on. Nice to let things just happen and not dwell. It was nice. 8.1 miles. What fool!

Hairline fractures

2009-09-23T08:57:00.000-07:00

Or are they called spider web? I pulled down a plate last night and noticed all of these cracks on the plate. Just below the surface. The plate was still usable, but what would it take for it to truly crumble? I wonder about that. In relation to my life and where I am at. Career wise, relationship wise. What is the next step for me. Whenever I begin questioning my life, I feel a change is gonna happen. It has to happen. But, how quickly will that happen. Especially since I don't have any concrete ideas or directions on where I want things to go. I've wanted to make my life out of the mish mash of experiences that have occurred. Part time sign language interpreter/True Colors trainer/coffee monkey. My own schedule. My own boss. My happiness will depend on my drive instead of me sitting at someone else's desk. Completing goals that will make someone else happy.
Anyone know how to write up a proposal?

The cracks are just cracks. Reparable. Beneath the surface, but the item, the plate, the life, the me is still intact.

Of course I'll rise above it

2009-09-18T08:55:00.000-07:00

Of course I will. I'm waiting for the weekend to begin and I will be away from this drab and dreary office. Working in a basement sucks sweaty balls. Ever since my mother went back to Chicago, I've been off. Feeling flat, or not feeling at all.
I don't care about work (nothing new), but there is a new layer of 'fuck offedness' that I have been experiencing. I didn't want my mother to leave. I have never had a twinge of sadness when I would drop her off at the airport, but that changed early Tuesday morning.
So far, this visit with my mother had been the best. She was able to meet more of my friends, see me happy in my relationship (minus a few picky points), see more of the city, see the coast, and relax. Seeing my mother happy makes me happy.
The point came up in therapy last night (don't sleep on mental health services). I like making people happy. Whether I want to admit it or not.
I think I'm not feeling my job right now because it's arbitrary to determine what makes my youth happy. I could do the best service for them, but they will still be pissed and throw a tantrum and I will hang up on them (that happened yesterday too).
When I was working at a coffee shop, I knew how to make customers happy. Slap a smile on my face, inquire about their new job or business or class final and VOILA!, my job is done. Get the temperature of the milk just right with those tight bubbles for some fantastic foam....fuck yea!
Heck, even try to make my friends happy the joking jokester that I am. Funny woman, always a tale on the tip of my lips or a quirky quip to produce laughter.

People please much?

But to make it all come together. My ability and what I really enjoy doing. That's where the scariness comes in. *sigh*

H.A.L.T.

2009-09-16T07:57:00.001-07:00

H-Hungry
A-Angry
L-Lonely
T-Tired

You aren't supposed to let yourself become anyone of those.

Any one by themselves or a combination makes for disastrous effects. I'll take one from the bottom pile please, Chuck. I was too tired yesterday. Plain and simple. And that's okay. I hadn't purged in over two months. But, after having rompy quiet sex, a bad night's sleep and then getting up at 5am to take my mother to the airport, just did me in. It wasn't a big episode, but one nonetheless.

And that's still okay.

Hell over the weekend at the beach, over even during my mother's visit, I ate things I hadnt' considered eating in years. I happily ate Golden Oreos (they are like cookie crack). Had pasta (ravioli to be specific). And I was blissfully happy and relaxed. I'm not watching the clock on this...anymore.

And you know what else? The aftermath was silent. I took it all in stride. No beating myself up. No over doing it. I vowed to take better care of myself and I did. Bed time was 9pm.

That's progress.

Can I....?

2009-08-22T14:08:00.000-07:00

...let you in on a secret? I haven't purged in over a month I think! How awesome! I say I think because I can't remember exactly. I know I haven't done it at all during this month and we are 75% through with August! OMG! It has been years! YEARS since I could have been able to say that! I have been working hard! Putting in my time. Through individual therapy. Couples therapy and being more present and active in my life for my better health and well being!
Ohhhh, guess what else? I rode my bike 25 miles last Sunday! It was for the Portland Century Ride. You could choose either the 25, 50, or 100 mile route. Seeing that I was asked to do it only a week before and I had some hesitation on my ability, I chose the 25 mile route! It was a blast! I am going to shoot for the 50 mile route next year and make sure I have the proper clothing for it too. I got an abrasion in a very tender area...sheesh!
And last but not least....I am down 4 lbs! It's not like I am dieting or anything (diet bad, lifestyle change good). I've been tracking what I eat and my fitness at this site and keeping a diary of how I feel. Feelings! Heck, I've been able to do this and still have a few beers, pizza, chocolate...wait a sec, I sound like an infomercial. *mockingly*

It's just been really amazing for me. Feels like everything is starting. yes!

So I Wish I Could Dance...

2009-08-11T16:21:00.000-07:00

Well, I know I can dance. I have rhythm. I have music. I have talent, but it's not a trained and refined talent. Lines and cages and all of that fancy talk. I love b-boying. Breaking. Popping and locking. I also really love contemporary and jazz and Broadway-esque movements. Tap. DO NOT FORGET TAP! That is why I also love dancing shows. SYTYCD is one of my favorites. And if I carve enough time out of my life, I can watch ABCD til my eyes fall out (online that is).
I was in therapy last night (no shame here) and it finally came out, from a question that my therapist asked me some months ago, what body image or shape do I admire. I knew that I admired the male frame and figure. Since I have never fit into the "beauty standard" or images that are put forth in the society that I live in, I have always been drawn to the "other".

OTHER.

The strength. Litheness. Grace. All that is "not" recognized in my size. My femaleness. I enjoy seeing that in the male figure. The male dancing figure. Minus those ballet tights. Whoa!
In my minds eye, not to say that I don't enjoy being a woman, but when I move it is in a male form because I do not relate to the female sense of grace. I equate that to femininity which I relate to passivity which I relate to weakness which is what I reject soundly.

Most often I am similar in size to men than I am to women. From jeans to shoes. Shirts billow to accommodate my breasts because it's bigger in the waist. Oh such a world. And I will continue to create my own.

More OTHER.

I gotta feeling....

2009-07-30T09:22:00.000-07:00

That tonight's gonna be a good night. That tonight's gonna be a good good nite! Hooo hoooo!

I should make that my theme song. When I carry burdens home and play out that familiar unsung tune of B/P.
I was disappointed yesterday. So disappointed because of the work that I have put in with trying to get our name out, is met with silent stares and excuses when it's time to put things into action. I should have brought that up when I had the chance. Instead, I swallowed my feelings. Literally and figuratively.

Remember what the good things are. Focus on that.

But there is utter, utter, utter frustration when you know you are working with competent adults who at time do not show their competence.

And I was just saying how much I was enjoying my position. Oh, how quickly things change when you are feeling taken advantage of or when the boss isn't around and people lose their nuts.

The second time in as many weeks where I have just been disappointed by the reactions of my 'team' members. Doesn't feel much like a team sometimes. And it shows.

The weekend is almost here.

Summer makes me...

2009-07-14T13:38:00.000-07:00

Crazy.
Is there a chemical in your body that makes you want all that you have not eaten in a while? Or is it just the parties that you go to, the summer, the sun, the alcohol that you consume that makes you less careful?

I want to eat Dairy Queen.
And orange juice? See, that wouldn't be so bad if I didn't stumble to the fridge in the morn and tip the carton back.
And go to that one place and have that one food that is a massive disaster. French fries covered in chicken and cheese. Hork!

Maybe it's just my period. I always go a little crazy.

So I know...

2009-07-14T12:36:00.000-07:00

that I need to lose weight. Felt the pressure of my shirt pushing against my skin as I sat at my desk yesterday.

So I know that getting up and going to the gym would be the best bet.
Why does knowing and doing end up being at the opposite ends of the spectrum?

What would it take to lose 100lbs in ___________days? 6months? 100 days? 1000 days? That ones feels the most doable. That's almost 3 years.
I should call my doctor and see how realistic this is.
But if I make a plan then I would have to follow it and that makes me more obsessive and toooooo detailed. More of this, less of that. All while trying to avoid the general consumption of crap which I gladly allow when no one is looking.
By myself. With a buddy.

Totally precontemplative.

Steady Climbing

2009-06-22T17:28:00.000-07:00

I am going to actively participate in my health and well being. Instead of acting like it's just going to fall into place. Case in point. I am tired after a day at the computer. I get a text for 'Vid and Pizza'? I respond, yes, to both. Then I let that chew away in my brain for a minute and decide, nope. No pizza for me. It's an easy decision for the pizza for it to be comforting and to eat what has been eating at me. I talked to a friend earlier today and gave her a compressed version of what has been going on in the past two weeks or so for me. Even with that brief recollection made that lump return in my stomach and that ache in my heart. I head back to my office and after dawdling on the computer, I headed over to the cabinet to see what was there...to eat what was eating at me.
I opened the cabinet and my eyes searched and searched and I it wasn't the toaster treats or the trail mix (which I thought would be safe). Nope, my eyes went past that and landed on the chewing gum nestled in the corner. I grabbed two packs and went back to my desk.

Harm reduction baby.

So yeah, I am going to bask in this mother fucking accomplishment for myself. What fool what! I put me first! My health first! Hells yea! Steady climbing baby. Steady!

My assignment

2009-06-17T09:35:00.000-07:00

I am supposed to go beyond the anger and the frustration. Those are the easy ones. Frustration is when I'm stuck. When "I don't know". I have to get beneath the surface and go to the heart of the feelings. What is in there? How do I access the vocabulary and go beyond? Opening myself up to the vulnerability that should be present (in my relationship) is not an easy task. Nope. I'm afraid. I need less resistance. More understanding and more openness to however I feel without judgment or commentary. Otherwise, I'm not up for this. Not again.

Right now...

2009-06-03T12:14:00.000-07:00

At this very moment, I feel terribly alone. Alone in my body. Alone in my mind. Alone in this world. I woke up with this feeling. Went to bed with it too. I am not going out into the world today to hurt myself. I am not going to binge and or purge because of this feeling. I am not going to be driven by this emotion. It's strange for me, but it's what is here right now. I am going to sit with it and believe that this too shall pass. I am going to walk in the park and hope that the sunshine and people's energy at the farmers' market will affect me. I will go home after a mediocre day at work and go to water aerobics and hope that the movements will both energize me and calm me. I hope this feeling will subside. But I know it is here and this too shall pass.

Still going

2009-05-13T08:13:00.000-07:00

It was interesting to hear my therapist say that right now probably isn't the best time for me to try to lose weight. Since I am still "active" with my eating disorder. At least I am active in one area of my life. However, if I take the focus off of my weight and turn it to my health, I think it could turn around for me. Honestly I don't know what size would be good enough or right for me. I say, size 18 (I'm in a 22/24 now), but would I want a 16? 14?
I brought in pictures of myself and had to say how I felt or what was going on with me at the time. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I have received not the best feedback from my friends (present) when they have seen "skinny" pictures of me. I got enough shit in high school for being one of the fat kids. I sharpened my skills with my tongue and became quite the smart ass. So, to swing in the opposite direction and have people react to the smaller pics with distance and disdain is just as confusing and I continue to struggle with acceptance.
Ultimately, I know that the acceptance has to come from within. I KNOW that. It's just hard to believe.

And now....

2009-04-27T16:15:00.001-07:00

I'm supposed to follow the recommendation of my therapist/counselor/mental health professional and enjoy being happy. That's some good, sound advice. Also, if I am not feeling happy, then I can allow myself that space too.

Off to enjoy!

It's Spring Again!

2009-04-05T09:05:00.000-07:00

And I'm on the upswing. I have taken my first water aerobics class featuring the Aquatard. I was concerned about getting in the pool and being surrounded by a bunch of old ladies, I was, but I didn't care. I had so much fun. And I can feel it in my muscles today. The only downer was this creepy guy who kept staring at myself and other women in the pool. I asked the woman next to me if she noticed him and she said that she was creeped out too. A woman bouncing in front of us mentioned that he was the husband of someone else in the class. I stated that I don't know either one of them and all I was concerned about was my comfort level and right now, I am not comfortable. Looka me standing up for me! I could give a rat's that he is there to support his wife, bring a fucking magazine because you are a sketchball!

And a lot of my emotional eating/bingeing has gone down. I'm being relieved of a major stress at work. My tooly supervisor has been canned. She just was not right for that position. It took two years for the other folks in charge to recognize that. Jeez!

But, it's a load off of my shoulders wondering if I am going to be lied to (I will, but I'll just fee better about it) or will information go missing or something.

And I feel relatively good about things in general. I'm excited to try out my new bike. I'm excited to get back into the pool. The weather has improved and so has my mood!

I'm illin'

2009-03-14T09:18:00.000-07:00

All this drama at work has me fugged the fugg up. I'm glad I have an appointment on Monday because I feel like I am going to go postal...big time! I know that they pwrson who supervises me is the embodiment of everything that I am against. Dishonesty, wishy washyness, two faced and an all around Grunty McCunty! It has really been affecting me the past few days because of some seriousness that has presented itself.
I am not at all motivated to go to they gym. I decided I was going to quit smoking once I got my aquatard *snicker*, but I have had 3 since. But I am done. Done. Done. Even though I have this stress, I am done with it. I am trying to find the strength and inspiration to get it done. And keep it done. So I don't bash someone's head in with a paperweight.

immobility is not my friend

2009-02-14T13:29:00.000-08:00

okay, so this knee thing is really starting to piss me off.
I look like someone decided to put jello in my knee. On any given day, it can add or take away from my mobility...depending on the consistency of the jello...which I should start eating anyway or at least taking a glucosamine chron...blah, blah, blah pill because I have bursitis in my left knee and it's stupid. Ugh!
Sitting down makes it stiff. Walking too much makes it stiff the next day. When I go to class, I end up limping by the end of it because it just does not agree to move in the way that which I wants it to move!
So. I don't know how much longer I can avoid not getting into the pool for my fitness alternative. I was barely 10 minutes into my boot camp class before I was practically dragging my left leg behind me. No fun!
So, if I have to get into the pool, first I have to find a suit. Umm...yeah. The last time I had a swimsuit on I think was when I went to Cuba back in 2001. Or maybe 2002. And seeing myself in those pics 7 years ago sure does not make me want to rush out and buy another lycra/polyester butt clinging trap!
What I want is something that resembles the suits of the 20's....minus the being made out of wool! It covers the shoulder has a high back and comes down to mid thigh. after searching for some time, I found it, it's called the aquatard. Nice name, *insert insensitive mental disability joke here). I just need to figure out where I can get one from. Most likely off of the internet, but figuring out the sizes have been a bitch to say the least. But, at least I know it exists.

Sara is...

2009-02-10T13:49:00.000-08:00

I got caught yesterday. It hit me right in the face. We were discussing how if you give your dog a treat while it’s misbehaving, you are just rewarding the behavior. I responded with that’s what my family would say when I was a child and would only stop crying when they fed me. They didn’t cuddle or console me, they fed me and started the trend. I made a comment a like, ‘see and this is what I end up with’, gesturing to my body. JG told me to stop it. I was talking shit about myself and JG stopped me cold. Sara you are beautiful. What? Me?
Damnit.
I apologized for the negative self talk. I put on my straight face and proceeded with the night. But it kept tugging at me. It was really tugging at me. I have to be gentler with myself. Unfortunately how I deal with my being gentle with myself is not very gentle like. Ugh. It really hurt.
So, what do I do? I sent JG an e-mail thanking her for catching me and she said she was going to send Christina Aguilera’s video ‘Beautiful’. I looked it up and watched it and tried to mold and make sense of the words. I also thought about TLC’s video ‘UnPretty’. I looked that up too and watched it. I wanted the words to resonate within me and give myself a second chance.
I have to.
More gentle.
More patience.
My life depends on it.

Sometimes I try to make sense

2009-01-30T15:21:00.000-08:00

I really do. I try to make sense of my life and wonder when things happen, am I fucking it up or is the world trying to send me a message. Take for instance my working out. I have been super excited to do boot camp this year and continue with boxing. However, two weeks into class, I got back to the doctor because the swelling in my knee hasn’t gone down and apparently I have bursitis. Sounds like an old person disease or something French. Or Italian. Anyway, I have some fluid on my knee and I’m on a round of big ass ibuprofen pills and icing it. Neat.

Next, how bout if I wake up 3xs during the night in excruciating pain within my right arm. Each time, I rolled over shock went through my arm to the point that I finally get up at 5am and want to know what the raggle fraggle is going on . I go into the bathroom and painstakingly remove my shirt and compare my arms. As I tried to pull the crust that had built up out of my eyes with my limited mobility and ever increasing pain, I notice that it looks as if someone has taken a bat to my arm and focused on my elbow.

Ugh. Really?

Damn! Minus calling my mom and going to the Urgent care and ending in Gresham because there is not an easy way to get to the urgent care and then getting on the wrong highway while heading back to work, it wasn’t all that bad. My mom the ever supportive lady that she is, kept at me to go to the emergency room to make sure that my arm wasn’t going to fall off. So, it was all ruled out. No insect bites, which would have totally creeped me out. No infection or blood clot. Just good old fashioned muscle swelling from a vigorous work out.

I mean really. I’m trying to get in another shape besides lumpy and one knee and one arm is effed. My doctor has suggested that I take water aerobics for the low impact sake of it, but I want to move and sweat. However, my body is disagreeing with me and I just might have to invest in some arm floaties.

BTW, therapy is making me look at things in a way that I thought I had gotten over or at least get a grip on things. Nah. Gotta keep it up!

It'sa New Day

2009-01-10T08:48:00.000-08:00

Okay people.
Here's the deal, I've kicked the smoking habit.
I've cut down on my drinking.
I've sworn off all carbs and refined sugars.

Then I came back to reality. It's an extreme change to do all of this at once. I said when I came back from vacation it was going to change. That last all of 1.5 days. Damn donuts at work. Which led to me buying, scarfing and then reintroducing to the world an apple fritter. L8tr on, Ru offered me up a hoppy refreshment in a bottle and I figured, screw I'll have a cig and try again tomorrow.
That's the beauty of life you get do overs. So, that's the deal peeps..
I will be on my way in an hour+ to my boxing class. I also have a boot camp class and will work out with J during the week two. I'll have to cut down on some of the 'fun' that I've engaged in over the past some odd years. But, gimme 3 weeks. It takes at least that long to develop a new habit.
It's gonna stick.

It amazed me...

2008-12-16T07:55:00.001-08:00

When I found other blogs in the internets talking about eating disorders and the struggle that goes along with it. I thought I would be able to find comfort in other peoples' stories, but it really just scares me. I know on some days I think I'm the shit! On others, I think I am shit. But mostly, I try to fake it until I make it and have a better sense of self worth. I recognize that I have a problem. A disorder, so I'm taking the steps to correct. Going to therapy, trying not to be so obsessive about my body, making healthy and proper food choices and if I do eat something that is total garbage, I won't kick myself in the head because that is life.
I know that my inner voice record sometimes matches the tune of some of the scariest things that I have read so fat. If I don't believe it, I'll be fine. Usually it's a fleeting thought or it can be stuck for a more than a moment. The point is to get unstuck.
I also came across blogs that were talking about weight loss. Man, those folks love to do their tracking. Write down what I ate, how long I worked out and how many calories were burned. Not for me. Too much data. Too many opportunities to obsess. If I get my butt up and moving for about 30mins or so, I call it good. Anywhere from 45-60mins, I'm on a frickin' roll! To weigh myself daily and have that number flash before me will crank up the craziness. Up a pound down two pounds...did I poop yet? Am I premenstrual? NOPE. Not gonna do it. How bout I just wait to see how the clothing feels or when people start to notice. I remember back in Michigan at how I had dropped 15lbs in 8 weeks just from straight up exercising and moderate diet rearrangement. I did not step on a scale once and it worked for me. I also have concerns reading the other blogs that it is just a diet for some. I found some talking about being 'good' or being 'bad'. I hate those categories! Or just eating these foods that no one would eat on a daily basis for the rest of their lives. SO.....is the change really being made, or is it just a temporary fix? Hell, look at Oprah...she still struggles too! But, I'm not Oprah. I also think it's crazy as shit when people say that she needs to get over herself. I mean damn! What do they want? A pint of blood? Or is it a pound of flesh? Anyway, she has her issues too...she's human, just cuz she's a billionaire doesn't mean she get a free ticket to eat whateveryouwantville..even though she will get you a car!
I the big O can cut herself some slack, maybe I can ease up too!

At what point?

2008-12-13T13:12:00.000-08:00

I was talking to a friend the other day on the bus and he was telling me how he has been cutting down on going out to the bars. He said it was too much money and too many calories. I know that he and his wife are going to be starting a nutritional program at the beginning of the year.
I related to him in the since that I know I will make my best effort towards losing weight which I've done half heartedly over the past some odd years. I want to go back to the South Beach Diet. If you take the word diet off of it, it really turns into an way of eating. Cut back on refined sugars, refined carbs, limit alcohol intake, each veggies and good fats. Sounds simple yes? ummmm?
I was having a conversation with another friend earlier in the week also and she was discussing her experience on the Body Ecology Diet which is based on our bodies being imbalanced and staying away from refined sugars, refined carbs, and dairy. My friend has experienced less acne over the time she's been on it. And it did have some things in there about getting rid of eczema which would make me super happy, but it sounds hella complicated. I'll stick with my steroid cream thank you very much.
So, talking to the friend about the B.E.D. and other diets that require you to limit your intake of alcohol. Now, why is that so intimidating? I remember my first crack at the South Beach and thought, 'how can I NOT drink'? Which in turn made me think that I was a beginner alcoholic. I mean why is there a fear around not being able to imbibe for two weeks or passing up the chance to drink at a party or something like that. Then sanity returns and giving up the occasional glass or bottle of wine and the vodka sodas are a walk in the park.

Also, at what point is enough for you to go ahead and lose weight in order to be healthier and stick with it? I was cleaning the tub today and I'm sure I had a grimy face on because I was bent over and the lil voice in my head told me again that enough was enough. Even though I could feel the pull in my back and last night I may have felt fluid on the dance floor, but recovery time has gotten longer...and I don't need for my life to be shorter because of my extra weight.

So it goes

2008-12-11T15:00:00.000-08:00

I was talking to J. this afternoon and we were talking about us working out later on. I would like to add on a few sessions. Maybe get a work out during lunch or something like that. It's interesting when you toss something out there and say I need to lose x amount of lbs...I wonder often if the response I get (oh, that would be too much) is because they truly believe it (lose x lbs and you will look like a lollipop) or it's just the nice thing to say (please lose x lbs fatty fatty 2 by four...okay, not really). Wanting to lose weight has been on my mind A LOT lately. Not the whole okay, Biggest Loser is on, so let's see what I can do. I think the more days I spend in this body, the more trouble I will have in the long run. I'm just getting over my knee being messed up from exhilarating dancing back in September. I have a knot in my back right now. From crappy sleep or crappy bed, I don't know.
I refuse to go up a pants size or shirt size. I see my buttons strain against boobs and it's frustrating. It's not like I'm being 'being stupid' lately, but by not doing that I am just consuming. So, 6 on one hand half a dozen on the other. It'll all change. I'm sure of it. It has to.

It's Different Here.

2008-11-24T11:16:00.000-08:00

That's what they say on my favorite radio station (94.7 ) here in Pdx. I stream it at work to keep my sanity. Another fantastic way for me to keep my sanity is having appropriate outlets. I don't like to say healthy outlets because it sounds very woo woo. But the new endeavor I'm encountering is pretty woo woo in my opinion. I'll get to that in a sec.
So, my outlets, I love to dance, moving shaking twisting all around....but I don't get to do that enough with the music that I like and in an enviroment that is comfortable. But when I do, I do it well. Exercise. That's been a struggle for me because I have gotten bored with my routine. It's movement and I know it'll make me feel better, but I need more of a challenge in order to keep my sanity floating above the line. Doing the same ol thing and the same ol routine has gotten me distracted and not at all excited in any way shape or form...so...I've begun to take boxing classes! It's actually 'Boxing Conditiong for Women', but I still get to be in the ring and working the bags. Damn! It feels good! I've thought I was going to puke a few times because the instructor works us so hard. And that's what I need. Someone to push me further than I can push myself. I'm going to sign up for the next session and I think I will take a 'Boot Camp' class to balance things out. I hate squat thrusts.
The other thing that I'm embracing finally as an outlet is therapy. And it's not just your good ole fashioned talk therapy. It's 'eco-psychology'. Sounds woo woo huh? It is kinda. I've just begun. And I'm not sure what to think of it yet. It's takes on the aspect of your relationships. How you relate to people...how you relate to your surroundings...your place in the world. I think it's going to be very challening given that most often in my life, I feel like I don't belong in a lot of places. That I don't fit in.
One thing I'm tired of having fit ...which it really doesn't anymore...I don't want bulimia to be a part of my life. My longest and most unhealthy relationship. If my therapist believes that this is just a behavior, then I know the behavior can change. Some people view it as an illness, if it is, then there is a cure too.
So, that's what I'm doing. Used to be an outlet....
Tryna get plugged in to what will be better.

Right side up

2008-08-26T07:50:00.000-07:00

Back on track again. The simple formula of waking up on time, fixing a deelish and wholesome breakfast (eggs, kale, italian zucchini squash, fruit stuffs, coffee...mmmmmmmmm) makes for a good day for me. I had been feeling dizzy over the past couple of days. Spanning into last week even. And I have a feeling of what the culprit was. Off balance. Lack of proper nutrition, lack of emotional rest. Recipe for disaster. I had been piecing together my grocery shopping. Not having the foods that I need in home makes it hard to be on track. I can't make good decisions running only on toast.
Henceforth with, I can look at the array of in season cheeply found fruit to snack on. The shelf full of ovally proteiny goodness. Cups with good bacteria filled milk stuff...okay, that doesn't sound delightful. Nonetheless, I can take a gander out of the window at the those green leafy things full of potassium (which helps my heart in dealing with the damage), vitamin c and what have you. And make it work for me. I was making breakfast at 7am. Giving myself enough time matters too. So I might have to go to bed a little earlier to wake up a little earlier. If I want to keep myself living longer.

I wish I could remember this formula. Even when things are on point, I know I get drawn in different directions. Too much free pizza at work.

Plan, Plan, plan, plan

2008-08-19T12:21:00.000-07:00

It makes sense. I made a rational decision. We will be having pizza this afternoon for something at work. I decided to forgo my lunch plans which was going to consist of me wandering around downtown to find something semi nutritious and quick and inexpensive for lunch. Just plain exhausting really. So, I figured, hey, I'm going to eat pizza anyway. And if I were to already have eaten lunch I wouldn't be hungry, I would be eating for eatings sake. So, I'm gonna eat the fruit that I have in my bag, maybe grab a yogurt and then come 2 have some pizza. Little victories.
Makes sense to me since this pass week has been hella effed for me on the food front. I've been all turned around and upside down. And it's been because my budget wasn't as planful as I would have like. I haven't been keeping track of $$$ and had some surprise expenses that threw me off. Not good. It becomes a guessing game and leaves me in limbo.
I thought I had worked out my budget, but not so much. O.k. then. Let's get back to the drawing board and rework it.

Lens

2008-05-09T11:41:00.000-07:00

Why is it that you see yourself one way and it's a different picture from a different angle when others take a glance through those same lens?
Seriously. I made the comment of it being easier to go to a movie instead of trying to get laid ( in so many words). Nothing against my darling dear, but I'm not feeling on the up and up or my best because I'm having skin issues. It's not making me take that drastic leap, but I'm not the most amorous. On the other hand, there are the issues with brioche belly...mmmhmmm. Neither is driven by the other. We are driving ourselves to the disdain.
I know the 'Beautiful One' has struggled with not being good enough, pretty enough. Thinking people compliment her just because.
How can it be captured? That positivity. That ray of sun or reasoning that makes sense. When the stars and planets have aligned and the birds are singing. We we are finally enough. For ourselves. For whatever. We have peaked and are satisfied with who we are.
Isn't there some method to bind up and bottle and replicate the hormones or pheromones that combine and create those feelings? Shouldn't there be.
I mean if I take a pill to get a hard on while I sleep soundly and clear up allergies and herpes and my prostate is shrunken, I know I mentioned it before.

Tide turn

2008-04-27T09:54:00.000-07:00

I thought getting out into the sunshine would make my day brighter and my heart lighter. For some reason, I just couldn't hold my head up. Like there was a string and it was pulling my chin towards the ground. I felt 13 again and was waiting for the voices of strangers prodding me towards self pride and to hold my head up. I couldn't bring myself to look into anyone's eyes lest they really see me. Or if I did make contact, I knew too much was burning behind them and it caused others to look away ( I was giving my crazy eye).
Still was driven to my random act. I hate being in the car, searching. While I sat in the car waiting to indulge, I had the opportunity to drive away. Why didn't I? Because that bleeding hunger inside wouldn't let me. During the eve, I told K how I wished there was something that could record the voices and messages I was sending myself just so others would know the rampant soundtrack that runs through my mind. And I know that it's my own voice.
I also am aware that I have been off because visitors have been in town and other people have had to fix my food and I have had to pay for it. It amazes me that one lil chink will toss me off for days.
However, the dust settled last night. Almost instantly. Magically. K was in the kitchen making us dinner. Something simple. Something green. Chop. Slice. Stir. Shake.
For some reason, while we were watching Law & Order, it lifted. My dirty cloud I had been carrying around dissipated. It was as if the mixture of herbal greens, balsamic vinegar, scallions and tuna were an elixir. I was the happy recipient.
How do you bottle that up instead of the heinous feelings? If anyone knows, I would help with the patent fee.

I believe

2008-04-26T13:47:00.000-07:00

I believe that I need to lose 100lbs. Maximum. Where did I get that number?
From me. Small voice.
Problem is that no one else believes me. So, I shrink the number. 80. 70.
Some days that wouldn't be enough. Still.
Problem is that no one else believes me.

bulbs

2008-04-24T10:29:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about the petals that fell off of the tulips in my bathroom and how I feel like that. Naked. Sticking out. Beautiful for a while, waiting to bloom again. Another clean slate. Every morning is a clean slate. Wipe away the welts and puffiness. Start again.
The root of my recent lapse in judgment has been about $$$. I hate that I figure out once I've released every ounce of dignity back into the toilet. Fuck.
It went on for days. I was at my breaking point at work where I wasn't feeling productive and had that broken record spinning it's nasty tune.
Even when I was heading to dinner, I made a diversion to the store for one last hurrah after my last hurrah...but couldn't do it. I strolled the aisles and bought soup instead. Wanted to shut up the voices about being 'good'.
I didn't feel 'normal' again until I went and talked to my PLG last night. I listened to her rant about her job and company and I unloaded to her about my freaktasticness (edited of course). Money fears. Possible debt. Necessary repairs. She said to get angry. In the end, I'm going to have to pay anyway. Why work myself up? Because that is my MO. Then she began to sing the song that has annoyed me since my days at MSU. Said to think of that and get angry. I want it to be that easy.

deutchmarks or dollars

2008-04-18T20:23:00.001-07:00

Who will I end up paying to make this worthwhile?
On a neutriceutical (sp?) to cut down on the anxiety and pms....but I still puke.
Going back to the gym now because I want to and I just decided why not to go whenever I have the time and the motivation.
and I still puke.
I want to go to a support group, but they follow the 12-step process and I feel somewhat hypocritical telling my best friend to go to AA and ignore the jesus fixins when I am not willing to cross the threshold myself. Interesting.
Another filling in my tooth. Another dollar out of the pocket.
What is the price that I'm willing to pay? Life?

Body Movin'

2008-02-08T11:45:00.000-08:00

We be body movin'...or at least that is what we usually do. Lately I've been moving my butt between the covers. Smackin' the snooze button and going back to sleep. Bad Sara. No LP.
Here comes my list of excuses. My schedule has been thrown off. I have someone staying with me. The bed is warm. It's been raining a whole lot lot. I'm tired of my music. My pathway has had me stressed (It's true...wanna see my mini rash?). I'm off my routine. There has been cake at work. I don't feel like it. I'm getting bored, even though I can do the stair master longer. When I socialize, I want to just relax because that is what socializing is supposed to be.
Why is this such hard work?
Because it's not ingrained in me yet. Again, again. Grrr. Sooo frustrating.

Voicemail sucks....

2008-01-14T18:40:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the person who is calling in really wants to talk to you. Really needs to speak with you. Would like to hear a voice instead of leaving a message after the tone. Because what I want to say, isn't best said over voice mail. Sometimes how I feel can't be summed up in 60 seconds or less. I just want to hear about someone else's day and how they got through it, so when I feel like I can't, I can draw from your strength. At times mine isn't enough.

Madd unorganized feelings at work manifest.....from unproductivity and meandering online....which sets off a trigger
and lead to madd unorganized feelings on the way home.
indecision about what to make for myself and nourish myself which would put me back on track. hOwever the idea of going into the kitchen........whatev.
therefore...reaching out to touch someone, but gets no one.
EFFFFF!
Now, I want to kill my neighbor who is doing laundry because I want to do laundry. Because I need my work out clothes if I am going to make all of this stuff matter.
Damnit, he knows that I need to do laundry and is just fucking with me by doing another load.....

No Sara...insist on rational decisions. Do it. Ask him. Nicely.
Hey, after that load, do you have anymore? can I get a load in.
Neighbor: If you want, I can keep this one out and the washer will be open for you.
S: You sure?
N: Yeah.
S: Awesome, hey I can knock to let you know when it's done.
N: That's okay, we can hear it in our place...
S: Oh, okay.

For effs sake...this ish is exhausting.

Again, again

2008-01-08T10:07:00.000-08:00

Last night I found myself thinking again. I know I do that all the time, but it was different. I wanted ice cream again. I had a clear picture of Ben & Jerry's bearded smiling faces recommending eating their premium goodness created from rGbh free dairy...even though there is not significant difference between that and the other kind of milk. And I know I felt afraid because I was consciously thinking the issue through. Which is progress I suppose. Weighing the odds. On the one hand, I was thinking, maybe I haven't gotten enough fat in my diet, and I'm not super full and I'm going to work out in the morning and I want sugar and damnit, why can't I just have the fucking ice cream for the love of all that is good and green.
On the other hand, I had a good dinner and a small cocktail and there is no reason to go out. I'm satisfied with what I have eaten. Maybe I could have a few nuts....maybe not..cause I'm not hungry. Just watch the movie or check on your laundry dangit.....
It's uncomfortable to have the conversation with myself. Sometimes I wonder if I am making the true choice if that makes sense or if I am just trying to be 'good'. Sure, some might say, give in, just have the ice cream, what's the big deal, get over it, but what they don't get is the snowball effect.
If I'm not in the right frame of mind, a spoonful becomes a serving begats a pint transforms to another night of consumption, confusion puffy eyes and a raw throat and that's that.
However, it didn't lead to that. I just wish it was easier sometimes.
At least I am having the conversation instead of auto pilot.

Tunnel Vision

2008-01-07T11:50:00.000-08:00

I feel like I have tunnel vision. I can only see what is beyond the end of my nose. If I try to look too far in the future, things get a bit blurry (which is funny cause I'm a touch farsighted now). I righted myself and got back on track with the SB diet. Even though the holidays came and went and I fell off, I still managed to lose an additional 6lbs. Plus, I didn't beat myself up emotionally when I did go off. I think it was because I know that some other friends who are dieting went off theirs during the holidays and gave themselves the freedom to indulge. And indulge we did.
However, I still see my blindspot...wait, how is that possible, if it's a blindspot? Well, I know that it's there.
And being the sensitive one, I know that I get affected by other people's emotions or allow my emotions to dictate my actions and that is troublesome for me with my ED.
For instance, yesterday, I didn't know what was the deal. I was disappointed that I couldn't find anything to purchase at Powell's Home and Garden and wasn't able to attend a show with a friend because it was sold out. So, I was feeling disjointed and let down. I didn't want to go to the bar to see the same show cause it would be smoky and a lot of peeple with bad hair cuts. So, I decided that I was gonna get a pint of B&J, the insanity and call it a night.
My inner dialog was a) get the ice cream, avoid the bar but end up feeling poopy and continuing the cycle. b) go to the bar, you will avoid the ice cream, but encounter a friend and have a different inner dialog. c) come up with a plan c.
I found myself in the parking lot of a grocery store that I don't frequent too much. That's what you do when you start to go down that path...avoid the familiar, go where you won't be noticed (it's a huge place and it's not like I would end up on the radar...but that's the ed paranoia voice). Right as I got to the door, I happened to pull out my phone and saw that I had a text message. A friend said that she hoped to see me there. That felt like a lifeline to me. It changed my mind about what I was going to do that night and I turned around and got back in the car. Small victory. Yay. It's those little things. Other people might not know how much it means, but it helps to keep me on track. The little distractions. Makes me grateful.

So Far....

2007-12-13T09:59:00.000-08:00

How is the South Beach Diet so far? On the one hand, it's fine. I have been testing my culinary skills out on myself and if it sucks, no one else has to know. I thought I was going to be stuck for the first two weeks eating turkey wrapped in cheese with nuts to no end. However, I know that I would get bored with that very easily. Even my tuna with lettuce was tiresome after two helpings. The way of eating on the SB diet is making me reach into the depths of my head for information that I know, but might not have paid too much attention to. Throw in the fact that my Dr. told me to avoid salt (no veggie or turkey sausage!!!!!) for a week cause my blood pressure was a touch high and Sara really has to tap in the the kitchen creativity. I'll admit, I did have turkey sausage today cause I couldn't bear to eat one more egg and can't fathom eating cottage cheese plain (no yogurt in the first 2 weeks....blargh!). I have to remember that I am supposed to enjoy eating. Not be afraid of it.
Back to the depth reaching. I have been going seasoning crazy. Being experimental with vinegars. Garlic comes in handy and my goodness, if my apartment isn't fragrant! I made some lentil soup yesterday and was afraid that it was going to be bland and kinda off. With the usual trifecta of veggies (carrots, celery, onion) along with some thyme and fire roasted tomatoes, it turned out to be pretty sweet and savory. I want to check out Penzy's Spices (my mother has been harrassing me for YEARS to go there) to expand my aromatic herbal essence. And to try out more flavors. We as Americans are so used to salt being the main 'sesasoning'. It should be more of an enhancer kinda like in baking.
I've replaced almonds with pistachios because I get to have more...plus, I have to open them which is more fun. I like the sound of the shells. I also eat string cheese. That's another snack that I can make last longer because of the peeling. I'm trying to get celery out of my head as a 'diet' food. It provides a lot of ruffage and I'll have it with my natural peanut butter (that has salt...sorry doctor) as another snack. I just don't want to get bored. That is a blindspot that I keep checking.
In general, this is making me more planful of my eating. If I'm going to have two servings of dairy, 1/2 will be in my coffee, one will be the string cheese snack and the other will prolly be some parmesan that I will toss on top of something. It helps me to know that snacking is okay and they are little treats during the day. I thought I was going to have a harder time with avoiding the candy bowl filled with Reese's peanut butter bells....not so much. Eating till I'm satisfied is a whole new concept compared to eating until I feel full. And when I feel hungry, eat. Weird...but not. There aren't any feelings of eating beyond comfort which dampens the thoughts of purging. Nice.
A new way of thinking. Processing. Learning.
I'm still afraid of failing. Thinking that I will stick with this and see no results. Thinking that I will give up and not see it thru because all else has failed. I'm trying not to get wrapped up in the stories of the people who are in the book. I avoid the scale because I don't want to feel disappointment of losing 3 lbs. compared to 13lbs. Wonder if there is a term for that besides being nutters. Rationally, I know a 3lb loss is perfectly normal, but I know I have been infected with the success stories and 'amazing results'. I just have to ride the wave. Exercise patience. With myself. With this plan.

Holy Bagel Batman!

2007-12-08T09:52:00.000-08:00

Goodness, I haven't had one of these in a long time. I used to think they were fine by themselves for breakfast. Even though they were about the size of my head. So, instead of eating a whole one, I switched to half and thought, 'yay that's better'. They are tasty, but they are also too much for me. I noticed that certain foods are too much for me. For some time now, I thought that it was just the junky snack foods that I have avoided having in my house and would only buy if I could get it in a 30-cent bag (less chance for a binge) or if I was feeling lucky, the 99-cent one. Or if someone was going to share cookies with me. Ice cream, always a concern. Who needs the effin' party size bag or a 1/2 gallon of something (besides milk) when you are single anyway? Sometimes I hate grocery shopping...scratch that, most times...but that's another rant.
Anyhoodles, to deal with my eating disorder, I knew that I had to take a closer look at the food in general that I have been eating. It tends to be on the more healthy side, fresh fruits n veggies, lean meats, no pork or beef, little processed foods. But the little processed food that I would intake would have a huge effect on me. I started a modified version of the South Beach Diet last week. Modified, because I have fruit in the house and I would rather eat it instead of pitching it. And I stopped drinking beer...hee. Once the fruit is gone, I'll do the whole shebang of not having any sugar, bread, rice, pasta for the first two weeks. Not missing the rice and pasta cause I don't eat a whole bunch (they kinda go in the bagel category). I tend to eat the hippie bread too (whole grain). And I chose SB instead of Atkins because Atkins is gross. I'm reading the book of SB and it all makes sense. I had already been eating my sandwiches with one piece of bread and no cheese, but gimme the avocado for a bit now.
Again on the processed food thing, I have paid more attention to the ingredients of things and notice how much seemingly 'healthy' food has high fructose corn syrup in it. eww. I decided to do a clearing of my cupboards and was happy to say that only 4 things had it in there. One being the Stovetop stuffing. Sad Sara. Essentially, what I have come to realize is that for me, eating the products with refined sugar, flour, tasty, but crazy processed, triggers the fuck outta me and gives me a one way ticket to the last train to pukesville (yes, lame). Not all the time, but the other time is usually spent thinking, I'm okay, you didn't eat much of it, or you can handle it or if I did just let time pass and you will be fine so I would avoid rushing to the bathroom and rid myself. And I am fucking tired of that. I don't want to have to do a goddamn self talk when I know if I eat this shit, it will physically and mentally fuck with me. I get all cranked up (blood sugar taking off like a Lear Jet). Feels like everyone is looking at me and my pores are the size of dinner plates (at least that is what is in my head) and I would rather crawl out of my skin instead of digest. If I did let it go full run, I end up feeling slow and sluggish and want more. Tried a lil experiment on myself this week with expected predicted results....more than predicted because I hadn't had the stuff in my system for some time.
If I could kick the food industries ass for what they are passing off as food, I would. Just take them out on the playground and give them a good ole after school beating. But, I can't. All I can do is take care of myself. And I'm going to.

RAtional?

2007-11-30T20:50:00.002-08:00

Not so much.
I don't do it as much when I was younger. In college. At the peak.
It's like telling someone...I smoke good rocks. Not the ish they cut wit rat poison.
Or I only do pure heroin. Or I'm on methadone. Just maintenance.
I drink top shelf liquor. screw popov.
NO! You are still on some wack ish.
So, no, I cannot rationalize having an eating disorder to someone who has never had one. Try to draw the line in the sand and how it's blended into my life since I was a kid. Not by my own structure, but of how I was introduced to food. I eventually molded it into what it is. And I have also torn it down.
How do I explain it? (kinda like my cootie hand......yeah!)
Of how I take care of myself?
I could hear her on the other end of the phone waiting for me to say something that made sense to her. When it all sounded right to me.
Understand it's not a 24hr thing. If I over process (gotta love that), then it might become the self fulling prophecy.
Sometimes I do nothing and I just be.
Sometimes I smoke....trade one evil for a lesser (?). Distraction.
Flip channels.
Read.
Walk. Dance.
surf the internet. (do peeple say 'surf the internet' still?).
Call someone.
make my bed.
clean.
wash dishes.
work out.
cut my nails.
take a distraction.
pick my hair.
nose. (with a tissue)
drive.
etc.
and it usually works if I have had enough sleep, not overly hungry, not hormonal. That's when I am most susceptible. But, also when I am like that...not at my most rational. How's that for a game plan? But then again, who isn't a lil up in arms if their blood sugar is low, they are crampy, or need a nap. Plays out in different way. I just wanna be better at the game.

How does it feel?

2007-11-29T20:36:00.001-08:00

Exposed. Like a big hairy gnarly back. (see pic at left). I am letting my dysfunction be up front and center. Thinking if I keep this up, I will be named for this alone and it will be forgotten that it's just a part. Not the sum. I finally understand what that saying means. I ping pong about, wondering if I should delete the blog and just let things rattle inside my head. It's awful shameful.
Sorta like how a victim holds that heaviness within and can only relate to other victims...until they find power over the pain. Not painting me as a victim. But I am tired of having my tongue feel tied and speaking in code and out the side of my mouth to those I love about this piece. "I slipped". "I slid". "I was off". Punched with grunts, half nods and averted eyes. Silence.
Another part of not speaking fully is because who really feels this? Who isn't looking at me with a side cocked head and plastered questioning smile trying damn hard to empathize and understand while unintentionally aggravating it cause of my embarrassment and distress.
In all these years, I have only come close to one other person who kinda, sorta, maybe at times felt a vague resemblance trapping, but not the same. Binge...no purge. Just late night eats. And shrug it off in the morning.
It feels like I am on my own damn island and I don't even have a fucking volleyball to talk to.
I tried a support group some years ago and thought, sweet, I can relate...'Hayl NaW, these women are FUCKED up'! I don't do no krazy ish like that.' $2k worth of dental work later.....ummm yeah. But in the back of my mind, I still thought I was 'better' (read healthier) than them. Never tried Ipecac. Haven't been hospitalized. Never used laxatives. Never abused mini-thins or other diet pills. Never restricted food to a certain color. Never did a flush out of maple syrup, lemon juice, cayenne pepper and water. But I have used food markers (eat something separate from the binge food and when you see it....stop the purge). I have used water. I have used sheer will. I have see(n) blood. And...it didn't stop me.
Years later, I was in another support group thru a project at UM hospital and all the bytches dropped out. I was like....Nooooo! I need this support, I want this support, I will modify my job schedule and drive two hours for this support and the support dropped like a cheep bra! Aint that a sumthin'. Wasn't their time to deal. I was hoping like hell to hold on...because I knew two of them. Maybe they were chased away from their life and embarrassment as well. We shared it, but couldn't share it.
It feels strange. It's not genetic. Nature vs. Nurture? Environmental for sure.
Served as a coping mechanism before. During my days of daily chaos. It was my salvation. My control. The only thing I could control. Funny how it got flipped. It felt fine. It felt mine. Now, I feel like I should have put it up for adoption...and I have paid for someone to take it, but it keeps finding a way home.

1st time

2007-11-28T16:47:00.000-08:00

Won't be as pretty as the other one.
Had this sitting on my chest for some time.
Twenty years.
How do you reconcile with yourself when you are aware that you have a mental illness?
That's what eating disorders are.
Mental illnesses. I'm aware that I am 'touched' in the head a bit about food. Body. Mind.
Tends to get out of whack...when it does...it's not pretty.
Disordered eating. Out of order. Not having an appropriate relationship with food.
Pretty much the longest relationship that I have had. A love/hate thing.
*in choked Brokeback voice*, "I wish I could quit you". Or at least quit doing the damage to myself. And some of it can't be undone.

I decided to start a new blog about my eating disorder (bulimia) because it's with me everyday. Mostly, it's not the monkey that used to sit on my shoulder, by the second, and whisper sweet nothings in my ear about how ugly, fat, stupid, worthless, etc I thought I was which drove me to deadly behaviors. I thought I was doing myself a favor by driving what was supposed to nourish me back to the surface and into the toilet.
Mainly, now, it sits somewhere near at the base of my skull. Or on the coast of Mexico. I really don't even hear it. Sometimes in my back pocket. Where I can pull it out...shake it off and put it away. Last night on my shoulder again, yelling like a lunatic. And I listened. It's not the same voice, but it's still there. I loathe when it's my own.

I don't want to use this as a way to describe my binges. I want to describe my fears and behaviors that might cause one...me to act out..., the little and sometimes big intricacies that bother me and trigger me and the salvations that help me deal with this fucking thing and how I manage to keep my sanity intact in the middle of the sometime nonsense of life. I am going to try to keep my voice in this as real as I can. Ramblings abound. In posting this I hope to have the conversations that I can't have face to face about the loneliness of this 'disease'. Dis-ease. Something wrong with comfort. Make sense? I hope so.