If I could dedicate a song to myself...

It'd be this one.

I'm waiting for me to actually believe it.

But I have hope that one day I will.

Pink – F**kin’ Perfect (Clean Version) Lyrics

Made a wrong turn, once or twice.

Dug my way out, blood and fire.

Bad decisions, that's alright.

Welcome to my silly life.

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood.

Miss 'No way, it's all good', it didn't slow me down.

Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated.

Look, I'm still around.

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than, less than perfect.

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing,

You are perfect to me

You're so mean when you talk about yourself; you were wrong.

Change the voices in your head; make them like you instead.

So complicated, look happy, you'll make it

Filled with so much hatred, such a tired game.

It's enough; I've done all I can think of.

Chased down all my demons, I've seen you do the same.

Woah ohh, pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than, less than perfect.

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing,

You are perfect to me.

The whole world's scared so I swallow the fear.

The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer.

So cool in line, and we try try try, but we try too hard and it's a waste of my time.

Done looking for the critics, cause they're everywhere.

They don't like my jeans; they don't get my hair.

Exchange ourselves, and we do it all the time.

Why do we do that? Why do I do that?

Why do I do that?

Born this way

A few weeks ago, Joe and I saw Lady Gaga on SNL where she performed "Born This Way."

And wow, I can't unsee some of the things I saw.  Bizarre is just the beginning of it, in my humble opinion.

But I like the song.

And even though I don't live an alternative lifestyle, I love the self-acceptance in it.

A few Fridays ago, I was on the phone with my mom.  It wasn't an easy conversation - in fact, it was pretty horrible in a lot of ways.  I left the conversation with swollen eyes and feeling VERY upset.

One of the big topics of conversation was how I just didn't fit with my family.  We had a very distant aunt, cold grandparents, and a grandmother who we visited maybe 5 times in my life.  Because my father was not able to interact in socially acceptable ways, he scared off many of my mom's friends.  My father was distant, my mother was hovering and although a great lady, we just never clicked.   And as hard as it is to say it, it's even harder to hear your mom on the other end of the line agree with you.

I never really felt like I belonged.  When every one else is happy in their own dysfunction, and you're the odd man out, you learn to adapt.  But you never quite forget that you don't belong - not fully.

Maybe that's the reason I want to be married to Joe - to feel like I belong to something greater than myself.  Something that is wonderful with the promise of forever.  

But that doesn't really exist, does it?  Belonging forever.  Things happen, freak accidents occur and people simply change their minds.  A ring is the promise of a hope of forever, but not a guarantee.  What's more, if I switch from looking for my worth in my parents to looking for worth in a union with Joe, is that really any healthier?

So, I can start to see myself as someone who is worthy of good things - someone who may not have belonged to her family fully, but someone who is good just the way she is.

I'm quirky.  I'm smart, I'm funny.  The fact that I didn't really fit with my family growing up doesn't mean that I don't deserve love.  No matter what your faith, I think we can all agree that we're brought into this life innocent, full of hope, and worthy of love.

Maybe that's why I really like the song that I referenced above and the message that there wasn't (and isn't) anything wrong with me.

(sigh)

And in case you're wondering, yes...I did add this to my running mix.

--Excerpt form "Born This Way" by Lady Gaga

My mama told me when I was young

We are all born superstars

She rolled my hair and put my lipstick on

In the glass of her boudoir

"There's nothing wrong with loving who you are"

She said, "'Cause He made you perfect, babe"

"So hold your head up girl and you'll go far,

Listen to me when I say"

[Chorus:]

I'm beautiful in my way

'Cause God makes no mistakes

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way

Don't hide yourself in regret

Just love yourself and you're set

I'm on the right track, baby

I was born this way

Gray matter

Happy Memorial Day!

If you're like me, you have the day off - which has been a welcome relief!  We haven't enjoyed the weekend as much as we had intended due to four (count 'em...FOUR) trips to the ER for Joe's grandpa.  He's been in each of those times with penis pain.  Can you blame me if I didn't ask more questions?

I just finished my second week on Weight Watchers and I have to say, I'm really happy with the results.  And to be clear, I mean the results of MY thinking.

It's no big secret that I've been struggling with lots of my mental demons lately - and it's taking up a lot of my brain space.  It's been a welcome relief to be able to rely on the fact that I need X points for the day.  I don't really even have to worry about how to "spend" the points - I eat a lot of what I used to be eating - just sometimes my portion sizes are smaller.

The first week, I lost 7.2 pounds.  Now I could go on and on about how awesome I was that first week, but truthfully, I knew I weighed heavy that day.  I stepped on the scale with a full bladder and heavier shoes than I normally wear.  But I can tell you that the 7.2 pounds definitely wasn't all water weight or shoes.

This past week, I lost 2.4 pounds - although it's unofficial because the meeting is canceled today due to the holiday.  I'll try to weigh in later this week, but it's a busy week and I'm not sure how likely that is.  So the 2.4 pounds lost is from the details on my bathroom scale.

Truthfully, I'm happy that I'm losing weight again.  I'm happy that I'm once again making smarter, better for me choices again.  It's different for me this time - in that if I'm hungry, I'm choosing to eat right through my point target.  I'm not stopping and starving for anyone - even a program. 

Several times during the past two weeks, I've thought that I'd really blown it with my eating.  I mean, the first week, I was out of town most of it with almost no control over what we got to eat.  And if you think I turned down the double chocolate chip (freshly baked) cookies that the hotel I was staying at gave me, you're not exactly right.  I ate the cookies.  I ate desert.  I drank wine. There may have been a few Snickers bars in there too.

In fact, in celebration of Chassis' birthday, I drank three glasses of wine.  (side note: it's almost a year later...how can I miss her so much still??)

So tracking has been a really helpful thing - because even when I'm crazy high with my points (or so I think), I realize after I put it down that it's not as bad as I thought it was.

Realizing that makes it easier to pull back on the overeating throttle of my consumption. 

Working the WW plan helps me remember that it doesn't have to be all black and white.  I'm not right or wrong, fat or thin, on plan or off.  I'm just me.  And I'm realizing that the beauty of life is sometimes in the gray.

After the Rapture...

Last week, when I packing for my trip to Chicago, I left my suitcase out in our bedroom so that I could throw things in as I thought of them. (Is here when I say that after years of frequent travel, I *still* don’t pack the night before I leave? It’s always the morning of the trip.) It’s also an invitation to an unspoken request that Joe and I have for each other - a way to unobtrusively tuck in little notes in the other person’s luggage. Since I’m the more frequent traveler, typically I send a card while I’m away or leave him a note or two for him to discover while I’m gone.

When I got to Chicago, I discovered a few notes – and they’re usually filled with the endearment that Joe and I call each other. I always feel good and loved when I find a new one.

But Thursday night – the night before I was leaving – I discovered the last note, tucked into my running shoes.

A simple “I love you” was all the note said – and it was a great boost to don my running gear and head down to the hotel’s dreadmill. Normally, I love to run outside…but it was 4 in the afternoon, it was hot, humid (for this Colorado gal) and sunny. And I forgot my sunglasses at home. Oh yeah, and I was in a completely foreign suburb right off the highway and busy streets. Probably not the safest thing I’d attempt.

The dreadmill was the only viable option –and that’s what I chose.
I remember a time when I was able to run for 5 miles without stopping or walking. I remember a time when I was pacing under 10 minutes a mile. Those times are not now.

Now I suck wind at the ¾ mile mark. Now I resort to walking one song and running for another. Now my pace is slower. Now is painful.

But I did it. I slugged through the 4 km I had planned.

It relaxed me and made me feel more in control before I had dinner with my father (who was about 15 minutes away from where the hotel was). Time with my father usually makes me feel tense and out of control.

As I build my pace and distance once again, I hope I hold onto the memory of these tougher times – when I can look back and say “look how far I’ve come!”

Last night in my Weight Watchers meeting, our leader asked about ways to keep workouts from being boring. There were a few suggestions from other people, but I realized my own truth inside of me: I used to love running races. I loved trying to improve upon the last one. I loved wearing the race shirt later. I loved being motivated by someone my size (or bigger) who trudged along and ran the whole thing too. I loved pushing through when I felt that I couldn’t (or didn’t want to) run another step.

That is how I kept running fresh.

I’m going to pick out a race to run in the next month. Initially, I wanted to run the Undy 5000, but it’s on June 25th and that’s our anniversary…and we’ve already been talking about going out of town.

I want to pick a race that will be fun – and one that when I wear the shirt afterwards, I can be reminded of a time when I found myself again.

Out of the mouths of bums...

Sunday morning, Joe and I decided to get our breakfast from the Einsteins across the street. I've mentioned this before, but we live just off the 16th Street Mall in downtown Denver. I ordered an egg white sandwich with ham and cheese on a bagel thin. Joe ordered something similar.

As we were walking back across the street to get into our building, I heard someone clearly shout, "Hey Fatso!!"

I turned around and saw a homeless man (who was in the middle of going through the trashcan) look directly at me.

Kids and people who are mentally ill will, apparently, tell you the truth about yourself - whether you want to hear it or not.

Did it hurt? Well, yeah. But is it true? Well, yeah.

I've had a few a-ha moments recently but this one kind of takes the cake.

And really? I want to be healthier. I want to be back on track.

You might be rolling your eyeballs thinking to yourself that I'm not exactly saying anything that is different from what I have been the last few months.

And you're right - but that's only because I haven't finished this post yet.

See, Monday night I did something I thought that I wouldn't do. I went back to my old Weight Watchers meeting.

Before you throw something at me and call me a traitor, I'll explain how I got to that decision (and then you can throw something at me).

First, I've been thinking about this for MONTHS. I asked Jams about it (she is a WW leader) and she gave me some great advice about the program. And agin, that was months ago. I've been marinating what she told me.

Honestly? The program seems to be pretty good in the sense that they're focusing much more on health rather than their points of things. I was optimistic that they have finally tailored their points calculations on protein, carbs, fat and fiber not just fiber, fat, and calories. I really like that they have indulging as a main point in their program - I think that's healthy. And I like that more emphasis is being placed on "real" foods.

I feel a bit skeptical that fruit can really be no points - because I guess I feel that they should count for something. But I read all the material they sent me home with and their focus group lost weight using this, so maybe it's not as sketchy as I thought.

BUT...I don't think I want to do this for forever. Or even until my goal weight. I do think that intuitive eating is the way to go (hello, filling foods technique) and I feel like ultimately, WW may only take me so far.

In their defense, I didn't hear anyone this week say that they wanted to eat fake WW foods or congratulate themselves about being hungry or depriving themselves. I hope that continues.

For breakfast, I did have the exact same thing I typically have. And for lunch, I had a Subway sandwich on the way to the airport (I'm now in Chicago) because I knew that my options at the concourse at the airport are limited to Steak Escape, McDonalds, and TCBY. I knew I didn't feel like any of those, so I stopped and picked one up to eat while I was waiting for my plane.

For dinner, I met with my dad at a place that served great ribs. I did order everything I wanted - fresh green beans, a cornbread muffin, and 4 pieces of ribs. It was delish!

Because my eating didn't vary much from my normal eating style, I was shocked to find that I only went over my points values by 7. It was really great to realize that I was still on plan.

Will I stay with WW? I don't know. What I do know is that I'm a sucker for charts and graphs and I kind of like that WW does that for me. I know that there is no such thing as good and bad foods. I know that I want my cholesterol numbers to be like those of a child (which is what they were 2 years ago). I know that when I eat better, I feel great. I know that I miss that feeling. Oh, and I know that I don't want to answer to "Hey, Fatso," ever again.

If WW gets me a few steps closer to my goals, who cares? Like I said before when I struck out on my own a year ago, I want to do what works for me. And right now, it feels good to have more structure in my life surrounding food. I like the guidelines. As soon as I start feeling severely restricted and triggered, I may back away.

I'm giving myself permission to change my mind. That feels healthy too.

Catching up

First things first... I'm sorry I've been such a slacker about posting. Sometimes it's easy to assume that the lack of posting is due to the person falling off the wagon in terms of health.

That's not necessarily the case with me.

I've been traveling. Actually, I've been doing a lot of traveling. Two weeks ago I celebrated my birthday. And on that day, I was in three different towns, two states, and two airports. This week, I leave to go to Chicago for a few days. After that, I should be travel free for at least a few weeks when I have to go to D.C. for my grandmother's funeral.

I'm doing okay though. No fabulous, but okay.

The hardest thing that I'm doing these days is working with my therapist to get over issues. Unfortunately, it's harder than it ever has been. It drains me - and honestly, sometimes really depresses me.

I plan on writing more on this blog though...it has been so helpful for me in the past - even if just getting words out of my head. It's helped to process, to support, to be supported, and to celebrate.

Before I had the cute little redheaded girl in fun pants at the top of this page, I had a simple statement about my blog: "This is where I come to celebrate my successes and learn from my mistakes." I haven't had a lot of successes these days - or at least it doesn't feel like I have. The EMDR work that I do with my therapist is hard stuff and it doesn't feel like winning often. But this is still my safe place to land...and it is worth overcoming the obstacle of not being able to post during the day.

I look forward to catching up with you all soon too. I've been horrible about writing, but even worse about reading blogs and answering email.

I don't really have a good ending to this post...but I'm exhausted so I'm going to go to bed.

Goodnight!

A Start

Is it just me or is breaking free of emotional eating habits hard?

Last Thursday, I started obsessing about having a blizzard from DQ. I knew Joe was going to work late. I knew that the type I liked is only made at a select few places. And I knew that I had 3 hours left in my work day before I could leave to go get one.

By the time my normal quit time came around, I was practically salivating.

I started the 20 minute drive in traffic, and I was really looking forward to that first bite. I was picturing myself ordering it/them (maybe I wanted two small blizzards?). I was envisioning how the crunchy bits would soothe just as much as the creamy parts.

The windows we down in my car, the sun was shining, the music station I love was on. I was going to get a fix. Life didn't seem like it could get better.

And then I realized that I really liked the song on the radio. It had a great beat. I turned up the radio.

I realized I really loved that song and before I could really think about it, I realized that I wanted to move to the song. "This would be a great song to run to." I thought.

Crap. Just like that, my fixation on the fix lessened. And with just a few minutes left to get to the DQ, I exited and turned my car around.

I went home.

I changed into my running clothes.

And dammit, I ran. I completed a 5K. I walked a lot of it. But I did it.

I'm not going to lie to you, there were parts of that run, where I wished I would've enjoyed the blizzard instead. For those that run, it was just a bad one. I couldn't get my breathing or my stride right. It wasn't particularly enjoyable. But I did it.

I've been thinking about why my desire to have the blizzard was so strong. Why did it seem like nothing else would do?

And while I may not have the whole answer, I believe I have an idea.

I fixated on something for three hours. I fixated on every aspect of that something. What would happen beforehand, what would happen during, and what would happen after. That's some powerful visualization right there, no?

I challenge you to think of anything comforting or pleasurable for hours, and see if you're not all excited to have whatever that is with enthusiasm. I think that's why sexy teasing in the morning before work equals hot passionate sex after work.

It made me aware that what you focus on really has a huge impact. And how monitoring my thoughts matter me farther than I ever was really aware.

So instead of fixating on whatever you current comfort food is, perhaps it's time to ask ourselves what we really want. A reward after a long day? A break from thinking? A chance to zone out? The comfort of something flooding our senses? And then think of another way to satisfy that need in a healthy way.

Lately, for me that's been coming home and cocooning myself in fluffy blankets while having a cup of tea.

It may not be enough of a change to help me lose 60 pounds, but it's a start.

Classical Gas

Writing the last post was kind of tough for me.  Well, actually it was hitting the "publish" button that was difficult.

See, I knew that weight had been creeping up.  I knew that I didn't feel as good, physically, as I wished I was.  And I knew that I didn't really want to post about it.

And putting a number to my weight gain?  Eesh.

The thing is, after hitting "publish" I felt a bit freer.  A bit better.  And in that moment, I decided to do more things that made me feel better.

For starters, I called a local large breed volunteer group that I have helped in the past and asked if there were any dogs being boarded (rather than in foster homes) that I could love on and take for a walk.  They replied back with a huge "YES!" and Sunday I walked my first big dog since Chassis.

His name is Guinness and he's a HUGE 11 month old Newfoundland puppy.  Who is not good on a leash, but makes up for it by pulling hard in any direction he's headed.  Armed with some treats, I attempted to help teach him better manners.  And then I loved on him like crazy.  What can I say?  I'm a sucker for huge, adorable puppy eyes.  I'm not sure who got the better work-out that day, but I was a bit sore that night.

But, oh, was I happy.

Being out in the sunshine has a profound effect on me and my mood.  I hope I remember that next time my mood drops lower.

Last night I set my alarm for an earlier time setting than when I have to get up...to see if the urge to run would hit me when it went off.  To be honest, I've done this probably 7 times in the last two weeks and have never actually gotten up any earlier.  Could I have?  Sure.  Were there one or two times when I was awake enough to go?  Sure.

But I've been scared.

This morning I had a nightmare about my younger sister's wedding and ended up waking up right before the alarm went off.  So when it went off, I didn't have much of an excuse.  I hit the snooze anyway.

And when the snooze alarm went off, I took inventory.  I realized that I was, indeed, fully awake.  I realized that I was afraid of running.  I realized that I didn't want to force myself to run on the treadmill.  So I decided to check the weather and see if it was okay to go outside.  The weather was 42 degrees...the perfect running temperature.

So with that, I got up, got dressed and went outside...my heart pounding almost every step from dread.

If you look verrrry closely you'll see Joe and me :)

But the funniest thing happened.  When I walked outside and took a deep breath, I remembered what it felt like to get out in the morning.

I set up my iPod on random and started walking.  I walked by our city's most awesome art sculpture (in my opinion), the Big Blue Bear.

"Classical Gas" by Mason Williams came on and I ran.

I ran for the next two songs, then walked for one and a half, and then ran the last one.

My pace?  Mostly runningish.

It felt good to move my body.  It felt good to get some stress out.  It felt good to do something I chose to do.

It felt good to overcome a fear.

And *that* is what I've done today to make me feel proud.

History In The Making

I couldn't deal with not having the ability to blog during the day or what is turning into being multiple business trips without taking along another laptop so... I decided to get a new iPad!! So this is the first blog post that I'm writing via my iPad through an app called blogsy. Not sure yet how well it will work, but it's worth a shot - especially since I can't blog via blogger.com because they insist on using flash and the iPad doesn't support that.

So, lets start off by recapping last week's events, shall we?

My sister did indeed get married. And my grandmother died while they were exchanging their vows. No kidding.

The thing is she was in hospice in Chicago so it wasn't a complete surprise, but it was horrible that it happened when it did. I know my dad wished he could've been there. And it was tough because no one wanted to tell my younger sister that she died. Instead, all of us slapped a smile on our faces, indulged in the distraction of our choice, and kept the secret from her. My family is great at that sort of thing - keeping secrets and indulging in distractions. Mine was the cheese plate.

My younger sister found out the next day and I spend hours consoling her via the phone - which was similar to the hours I spent consoling my older sister and father the day before.

I have got to get a good support system of my own.

Joe was great at the wedding and was such a huge help - both to my and my family - as evidenced by his last minute trip to go back to my mom's home to get the alcohol that they left at home 30 minutes before the wedding started. He's a trooper.

He even started saying things like "our wedding will be much better planned." To me, that meant that he was actually thinking about OUR wedding. To him, he was remarking about the poor planning. It was rhetorical. I found that out at last night's therapy session. To say I'm let down and disappointed is a huge understatement.

What has become clear in the thousands of pictures floating around my family's Facebook pages is that I have gained a lot of weight.

In fact, over the last year, I've gained between 25 and 30 pounds.

There. I wrote it.

(sigh)

A part of me is so frustrated and disappointed in ME. A part of me is reminding myself of all the stress I've had in the last year. A part of me doesn't think that's an excuse at all. A part of me is completely petrified of comments saying "I told you so." A part of me wants to tell those people to go f&ck themselves.

But more than that, I know I should do something about it. I just feel so far away from the success I had last year. I feel like a failure. I've been acting like one.

(sigh)

So what do I do now?

Well, the first step is to decide if I really want to do anything about it or not. Some days I'm not sure.

Of course I want to be thinner. Of course I want to be healthier. But I don't want to do the work some days.

Here's what I do know, I want to enjoy life more than what I do now. I want to have more energy. I want to get out in the sunshine more often. I want to do things for me again. I want to turn off the tv more. I want to have pride in my looks again.

I want to enjoy MY life and myself more.

I think that if that is truly my goal, I can find ways to do that. Maybe it isn't running right now. Maybe it's taking a pottery class and getting out there more; finding a way to take pride in myself and my abilities. Maybe it's trying a yoga class. Maybe it's walking in the sunshine at the park nearest my work on way home one day.

Somehow, in the midst of surgeries, weddings, deaths, changing jobs, and waiting for boyfriends to come around, I've lost ME.

It's about time I find myself again. Honoring my true self probably means I'll be happier and I bet that when I start finding myself again, I'll find that I don't need the food to push down my unhappiness.

Or at least, that's my hope.

Serenity now!!

One thing I know for sure: there is no dignified way to get into Spanx.

I'm in El Paso, Texas getting ready for my younger sister's wedding. The wedding is actually on Saturday but most of us flew in town last night. Truthfully, I'm just kind of looking forward to getting this over with. It's going to be a whirlwind of chaos for the next few days and I'm just going to endure it.

I had an interesting conversation with my best friend prior to coming here. She encouraged me to think about what would make this trip a success...as in, this trip will be a success if_________.

Here's what I've come up with so far to fill in the blanks:
* no one goes to jail for killing someone else in my family. Tensions run high in these times is all I'm saying.
* I get to dance with Joe at the wedding.
* I get coffee every morning.
* I choose to work in some me time every day just to concentrate on breathing and attempt to center myself.

So, I'm working on it.

In other news, Joe and I have made some huge progress with our therapy. He's really trying to be and do better and with the stress that I've been faced with during the last few weeks, he's been a rock to lean on. Intimacy is coming back and the trust is coming with it.

The bad news? My bridesmaid's dress is tighter than I'd like it to be in the bust area. And I now have a big enough tummy to make people wonder if I'm pregnant. Or at least, that's how I feel I look.

The good news? No one will be concentrating on me and pictures of us in the wedding will likely be from the shoulders up - at least the ones displayed in my mom's house.

I'm hanging in there...and am trying to maintain sanity and serenity. With all the drama from this morning (and it's not even 10 AM yet), that's a pretty big success as it is.