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You know what’s weird? I mean really weird? Seeing someone you know in a reality show.
I know this guy. I love this guy. He’s an awesome guy. Yep, he’s fucked up his life, but you know that I have too. I have such respect for people who admit that, learn from it and turn their lives around. The strongest people are the ones who have reinforced their damage. He has. I have.
I’ll be watching every damn week.
I’m a morning person … one of those really annoying types that bounces right out of bed and gets shit done first thing in the morning. I’m not groggy or gripey. I’m wide awake and ready to take on the day. I said it was annoying, but I love it.
Even when we go on vacation, I’m up around 6 and depending on how agreeable my lovely husband is to the idea, I’m usually sightseeing around 7 or 8. It’s really awesome when we’re in Las Vegas. Casinos are very desolate places at 7 in the morning. We can play whatever slot machine we want. We can order drinks from the waitresses on a regular basis, because they are so desperate for tips at that time of day they will keep coming around every ten minutes. Yes, we day drink when we’re on vacation (and sometimes on the weekends). You already knew we were awful people, so don’t act all judgey about it now.
I could clean the whole house before 9 am (and I have on several occasions) … assuming that particular Saturday is not a day drinking day.
I just think better and perform better (like I’m a one woman show) earlier in the day. Part of it is my habit of procrastination. If I don’t get stuff done right away then it gets put off or doesn’t get done at all. Hence the folder of tax information sitting by me right now that I should be working on instead of writing this.
Well thanks to the lovely Miss Oprah and an article in her magazine. I now know about the website and app Unstuck. Go Google it … I’ll wait.
See … I told you.
While reading the sight and working through one of the question thingies, I discovered that I’ve been doing my life wrong …. of course, we already knew that, but this is slightly different.
As a morning person, I shouldn’t be trying to get stuff done in the evenings (and the other way around if you are NOT a morning person). I’m up pretty much every morning at 5. THAT should be the time when I’m doing some cleaning, some yoga, some writing, some e-mailing, some side business work, etc. I should NOT be trying to get stuff accomplished in the evenings after work when I’m dog ass tired (technical term there). My evening times should be reserved for boxed wine drinking and bubble bath taking … it only makes sense.
So we will see how much I get done tomorrow morning when I start “the switch” and how much more relaxing my evenings are when I’m not running around trying to do stuff or talking myself out of doing stuff. This could be VERY interesting. muahahahahahah
I’m wearing my armor again. Armor that lets me hide from the world. Armor that keeps me from getting attention. Armor that let’s me not care.
I’ve always been a “big” person … 6′ tall with a size 10 foot (before most stores even carried a size 10) since I was in the 8th grade. Middle school dances were living hell. The ONLY boy tall enough for me to dance with evidently like me a lot more than I liked him and told everyone we were “dating” after one dance. I was awkward and slouched to try to fit in. My posture still sucks because of it. I didn’t play sports, never had the desire to and was told more than once that I was “wasting the gift of height”. Who the fuck says that to a 12 year old?
In high school I dated a real gem who was probably a good hundred pounds overweight, yet he insisted on calling me fat every day and literally knocked food out of my hands when I tried to eat around him. Oh yes … what a winner! Plus he beat me and belittled me like he was breathing. Gosh … why did I ever let that one go? So my Senior year of high school I weighed 140 pounds, which is not a good look for a tall girl. You could count my ribs, all of them, through my skin. My collar bones could be seen through my shirts. My hair fell out in chunks and I stopped having periods.
After marrying D, I gained back to a normal weight, but was still much bigger than my friends.
After we had kids and I started taking Paxil, the weight increased more and more and more.
At my heaviest, during my “fuck the world and hand me that bag of chips BITCH!” Paxilated years, I weighed 233 pounds.
I lost a little of it during the months of withdrawal (and weekends in jail * see My Story at the top if you aren’t caught up).
Then a few years ago, I got serious and joined Weight Watchers and lost down to 163 pounds … a SEVENTY pound loss from my heaviest. I could fit into a size 10. People commented on how great I looked … until they didn’t and they started telling me to stop and that I looked sick. D was concerned. It was almost like a drug. I had the power over this one thing and my addiction was the dropping number on the scale. I scared myself, but didn’t know how to stop.
We went on vacation to Las Vegas and I reluctantly agreed to eat whatever I wanted with D’s encouragement. Yes, I needed to gain back some poundage. I did not need to gain back this much.
I kept eating and over the past year I’ve gained 30-35 pounds. I can feel it on me. My clothes don’t fit. Pantyhose make it nearly impossible to breathe. My ass is HUUUUUUGE!!! The problem is that I can’t make myself care and I don’t know how to make myself care. I care because I can feel the pounds on me, but I don’t care enough to change.
I’m so used to being considered big that it’s easier for me to be this way.
I feel comfortably uncomfortable. Being chunky feels right to me, even though I know it isn’t.
When I get serious about losing weight, my brain goes into overdrive and I lose too much. When I don’t care and I eat whatever I want, my brain goes into overdrive in the opposite direction and I gain too much.
How do I shed the armor of my pudge and find something in the middle I can live with?
His style sure isn’t all warm and fuzzy. Her curses like a sailor. He has a plunge pool in his backyard that’s cold … a fucking plunge pool !!! He’s built like a brick shithouse and I’m pretty sure he could crush watermelons with his bare hands. I’m kind of fascinated by him and scared of him at the same time.
I want to learn from him and work with him.
If you haven’t seen the documentary about him, then you need to.
He’s not for everyone and I get that, but he sure doesn’t bullshit and if he’s helping people get out of their heads and change their lives then I’m all for it.
You build it up in your head. You plan out what you’re going to say. You decide that today’s the day. You make the phone call. You talk to the person. You get an answer and then that calm hits you … that feeling like no other. The feeling that no matter what happens, YOU DID IT !!! You had the conversation. You asked what you needed to ask.
I don’t know what happens from here. I know what I hope and pray to the bottom of my soul happens, but I can’t control more than I can control. So I continue to fight and I continue to be brave and I continue to believe that I have a purpose and dammit I’m going to find it.
I have a new respect for people in constant pain. I honestly don’t know how they do it.
For the past few months I’ve had that squeezy, pressure feeling then the sharp pains started in my stomach, back and chest. I spent many nights crying myself to sleep it hurt so bad.
Gallbladder ultrasound was clear. Chest X-ray was inconclusive. First EKG was good. So I was treated for pleurisy (inflammation of the chest wall) and sent home. Of course they gave me an NSAID pain reliever that I had to stop taking, because of the potential stomach damage and the stomach scope I had scheduled.
The scope showed Gastritis and low and behold the birds started to sing and the sun started to shine. I’ve been taking Omeprazole twice a day for the past week or so and it’s helped tremendously.
You know my hatred of pills so having to take anything is really bothering me, but probably not as much as feeling like I’m constantly having a heart attack. So I will take it twice a day for the next few weeks then cut down to a pill in the morning and half a pill in the evenings.
I can so do the taper thing. You know that. You should see my Paxil taper. That was a thing of beauty.
So sorry to all of my haters. This bitch didn’t hit the ground yet.
I feel a rant coming on so hang on to your knickers !! I like to warn you so you can be prepared and have your knowing head nods and your “DAMN … SHE’S SO RIGHT” s lined up and ready to go.
Ever since “the Election”, I’ve seen soooooooooooo many things about celebrities having opinions on politics and political issues. I live in a VERY red state so our newsfeed is filled with them on just about every social media thing we do. Except Twitter, because my in real life people don’t know I have that. I tend to agree more with total strangers who don’t know me from Eve. hmmmm … interesting
The whole “do your job and not have an opinion thing” really bothers me. Everyone has a right to their opinion. Would you tell a teacher, a firefighter, a stay at home mom, or a doctor that they couldn’t have an opinion just because they have a certain career? I sure wouldn’t. You have the right not to watch what they make, but they do have the right to voice their views and I sure wouldn’t want to live in a country where people couldn’t.
I’ve always been of the opinion that having different opinions makes the world an interesting place. I love a good debate almost as much as I love boxed wine and cupcakes (I said ALMOST). So celebrities voicing how they feel does not bother me at all. Of course, it probably helps that I’m a liberal minded hippie and I agree with most of their thinking.
As human beings, how we feel is ingrained in us and nothing we say or do can be separated from that. My views on drugs, war, politics, women’s rights, tacos, seat belts, the Pope, the stapler on my desk, the donut shop down the street, raising kids, etc. etc. seep into everything about me. It’s impossible for me or anyone else to not let our feelings out in one way or another, regardless of our job.
I’ve been in college classes where the professor discussed her views on war. I’ve been in doctor’s appointments where the doctor ranted about how much he hated Hillary. I’ve been in restaurants where the waiter celebrated marriage equality … and none of it bothered me. They didn’t try to sway me one way or another. They were just being themselves and there is nothing wrong with that.
So if you don’t agree with a celebrity and their views and feel the need to not buy into whatever they are selling then so be it. Don’t read their book. Don’t watch their TV show. Don’t buy their music. Just don’t tell them to “entertain us and then shut up”. That mentality gets a little too close to the attitude of “sit there and look pretty” and that doesn’t sit well with me at all.
I love the looks I’m getting from people when I tell them “Happy VD”.
oh bite me
I’m in pain.
I have been for a few months. It started out as a generally squeezing feeling all the way around my mid-section. Like Opie from Sons of Anarchy was giving me a giant hug that wouldn’t stop. Wait. I wouldn’t mind that … so it was nothing like that. Let’s try again. It was like a big sweaty, bearded guy was hugging me constantly. Shit. That sounds like Opie too. Let’s just go with squeezy feeling and call it good. I suck at descriptions sometimes.
Anywho … after weeks of squeezing and pressure … like something was sitting on me. Like an elephant that just ate a dozen pizzas … oh hell … no explanation needed … it’s pressure … you get the idea … the pain started. Middle of my back pain. Under my ribs pain. Right in the middle of my gut pain. Upper right chest pain. Stabbing. Aching. Annoying as hell. PAIN !!!
So I called my stomach doctor (the one I’ve gone to for those kinds of scopes ever since my brother was diagnosed with colon cancer when he was only 26), because I thought it was my gallbladder, but it turns out that he isn’t a gallbladder doctor … only a guts doctor. So I went to a general surgeon who ordered an ultrasound … and two copays and several hours of missed work later … TA-DA! it’s not my gallbladder.
On to the next doctor who took a chest x-ray and did an EKG …. x-ray inconclusive and EKG normal so she gives me an NSAID pain reliever “in case” it’s pleurisy, but when I start reading the little drug info sheet (because you know I read those things now) I freak smooth out at the words “stomach bleeding”, “sudden death”, and “sudden death from stomach bleeding”. Don’t even get me started on the “do not consume alcohol while taking this medication”. OH HELL NO BITCHES !!
So long story short (too late), I’m now scheduled for a stomach scope with my stomach doctor (see two paragraphs above) with a lovely check-in time of SIX FUCKING A.M. tomorrow followed by a cardiologist appointment on Monday.
I’ll keep you updated.
P.S. I know there are still some haters out there who read my blog just to find stuff to bitch about and are probably happy that I’m having problems, because well that’s how horrible people are … and oh by the way the voodoo doll you bought at the Chug and Glug (liquor store/gas station combo) along with your PBR and generic cigarettes IS WORKING … SO STOP THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW. Please
Events of the past few weeks and situations in our lives (a friend with cancer, a person going to prison, our own health concerns, and a social media post that I got WAY too upset about) have resulted in some deep thinking.
There are entire industries built on the premise that something about our lives needs to be better or “fixed”. Just search the words “self help” on your Kindle and see how many books pop up. I’ve probably read most of them .. and I’ve discovered in the past week that I’m truly happiest trying to not fix anything … just being.
I’ve stopped reading change your life right now or your dooooooooooooomed books. I’ve stopped worrying about what other people think of me. I’ve started valuing myself and the people who care about me. I fixed my life by trying not to fix anything. hmmm … go figure
So today I challenge you to just be. Don’t make any huge life changing decisions. Don’t vow that you are going to change a bad habit. Don’t offer advice or ask for it. Just be.
and ask yourself these questions:
* can anyone else fix my life?
* can I fix anyone else’s life?
* can I fix my own life? does it have to be done right now?
* does it really need to be fixed anyway?