So about 9 weeks ago, I had a lightbulb go off in my head. Jess and I were lying here in bed, just chattin' it up, when it crossed my mind that I should breach the subject of us relocating our family to an area that might better improve our quality of life...Santa Rosa. Hah!
After sometime of convincing him, he agreed. In fact, he agreed so much, he hasn't even looked back. However, I'm the one having the detachment issues. Oye.
Every morning for the past few days has felt like Groundhog Day. Pretty much since my last day at my job (that's when shit got real), I've been stuck in this cycle.
One thing about my particular issues with anxiety that I've noticed is that having plans, regardless of how hard or stressful they may be, has always helped me feel stabilized and secure about my life. Lately, however, the plans have fallen into the "play it by ear" category; ergo, NOTHING gets done because I'm running around, spinning, completely incapable of getting one project fully accomplished. So I'm thinking now it's time to schedule the mundane tasks of my day so I can at least feel like it's a job, or something more concrete.
I'm quite anxious about the move, now. Moreso about the adjustment to not being near my river, or under my redwoods and near friends. I'm actually falling apart about it silently inside. It started when we saw the place on Tuesday; I knew it was the place we were going to live in; it's small, it's a bit dark, but there's some nice amenities to it. It certainly isn't anything I'd want to live in for more than a year. But overall, it made me so deeply and thoroughly depressed.
I knew this was going to happen, so I'm just going to let it happen. If I start to feel panicky, I just stop what I'm doing and retreat to my place of safety. I go through all my relaxation practices and eventually (like, around 10pm!) I start to feel more safe and secure.
Part of the reason we're moving to Santa Rosa is so I can begin to really address the anxiety issues I have with my comfort zones. I figure if I'm there, I can slowly make my circle bigger there and get to the point where I can explore places more comfortably and on my own and be more at peace with my family exploring the world without me at their side. However now, this part of me is in deep regret and trying hard to approach panic mode...but I won't let it.
Overall, the adjustment that I'm yet having to experience is what's getting my brain on tilt. Will I get worse? Will I get better? Will I have sacrificed the comfort of my family unnecessarily for my own benefit? And then what if it doesn't work? This is the first time in a long while that I've felt this unsure and this insecure about myself and my mental stability. Perhaps I should look into a low dose coping medication....hah, or just keep swimming.
A young Californian, a mother trying to find her way through a forest of anxiety, children, dirty laundry, a wife trying to create the balance and harmony that is deserved of my marriage, a woman trying to find a sense of belonging and "my place."
Friday, August 3, 2012
Saturday, May 26, 2012
California Dreamin'
I dreamt last night that we were moving to LA, and I was busy settling my mother-in-law into her new little granny unit. It was unsettling because part of me was wondering why I wasn't feeling any anxiety about being so far away from what I call "home" and why I was so eager and excited to start exploring the hills. I did end up getting lost in LA and asked a museum worker to help me get back to "Granny's Attic", a store that was around the corner from my mother-in-law's...The woman knew I wasn't from around and asked me where I came from. I looked off towards the sun setting over the ocean and saw the silhouette of redwood-clad hills and began to cry, saying I miss my river. And I really did miss my river...
On occasion I'll have a dream that we've moved or will be moving and I always feel that painful tug at my heartstrings. But lately I've really been thinking about us uprooting and changing scene. Mainly so we could have a better opportunity economically, however the cons at this point certainly outweigh the pros. Our children are vested in their school, and they're at that age where uprooting them could prove more traumatic than beneficial. We've learned from the past that a change of scene doesn't help the situation, but rather aggravates it. In fact, any sort of "change" seems to aggravate our little family unit.
Since the time I started going to school at age 5, I've been asked what I want to do with my life. I believe this is one of the cruelest and most useless question to ask of a child. To figure out at such a young age what they want to subject themselves to, supposedly, for the rest of their life, and as a vehicle for economic status no less, is unrealistic and puts far too much pressure on the child. I wanted to be a musician, or an artist, or a dancer...something that "doesn't pay very well" and was told that I should choose something else that would give me the economic standing that one needs in this society. So for the rest of my life, I'm doubting everything I choose (because I am still that artistic, creative and flighty little girl that I've always been) is contrasted by the expectation that I need to subdue myself in a Nine-to-Five job in order to support my family. This is the typical way of doing things.
Yesterday, I was poking around the College website, looking at classes for the Fall Semester, when I became overcome with frustration and anxiety. The fact is, I've been going to school for 4 years, and only need 2 more classes to get my AA, I've fallen short of the expectation I placed on myself. SO naturally, I don't want to complete what I've finished. I've explored many different career options and each one has fallen through. After beating myself up about the Fall Semester, I decided to go on CraigsList to search for employment opportunities. I found a position that I more than qualify for, but because it's located too far away, I've immediately blocked myself from the prospect of attaining that job.
I'm torn between what's important for my family and what's important for me to feel any self-worth. Since I grew up with middle-class parents, this life of poverty and being on assistance has inflated my guilt. Do I sacrifice time with my family for a job that will provide for them? Is that even possible in this 21st Century economy? Or will I be spinning in circles? Working for the sake of working, but with no reward? This is the reality of my dream to be a good mother, wife and citizen of the world.
On occasion I'll have a dream that we've moved or will be moving and I always feel that painful tug at my heartstrings. But lately I've really been thinking about us uprooting and changing scene. Mainly so we could have a better opportunity economically, however the cons at this point certainly outweigh the pros. Our children are vested in their school, and they're at that age where uprooting them could prove more traumatic than beneficial. We've learned from the past that a change of scene doesn't help the situation, but rather aggravates it. In fact, any sort of "change" seems to aggravate our little family unit.
Since the time I started going to school at age 5, I've been asked what I want to do with my life. I believe this is one of the cruelest and most useless question to ask of a child. To figure out at such a young age what they want to subject themselves to, supposedly, for the rest of their life, and as a vehicle for economic status no less, is unrealistic and puts far too much pressure on the child. I wanted to be a musician, or an artist, or a dancer...something that "doesn't pay very well" and was told that I should choose something else that would give me the economic standing that one needs in this society. So for the rest of my life, I'm doubting everything I choose (because I am still that artistic, creative and flighty little girl that I've always been) is contrasted by the expectation that I need to subdue myself in a Nine-to-Five job in order to support my family. This is the typical way of doing things.
Yesterday, I was poking around the College website, looking at classes for the Fall Semester, when I became overcome with frustration and anxiety. The fact is, I've been going to school for 4 years, and only need 2 more classes to get my AA, I've fallen short of the expectation I placed on myself. SO naturally, I don't want to complete what I've finished. I've explored many different career options and each one has fallen through. After beating myself up about the Fall Semester, I decided to go on CraigsList to search for employment opportunities. I found a position that I more than qualify for, but because it's located too far away, I've immediately blocked myself from the prospect of attaining that job.
I'm torn between what's important for my family and what's important for me to feel any self-worth. Since I grew up with middle-class parents, this life of poverty and being on assistance has inflated my guilt. Do I sacrifice time with my family for a job that will provide for them? Is that even possible in this 21st Century economy? Or will I be spinning in circles? Working for the sake of working, but with no reward? This is the reality of my dream to be a good mother, wife and citizen of the world.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Thursday_Schmurzday
1. I'm attempting to read two books at once: Little Alters Everywhere and 50 Shades of Grey. Been really looking forward to the latter one.
2. Stupid cat is sitting on my desk. I've resorted to accept that any flat surface in my house, whether it be the kitchen counter or a t-shirt drawer left open, is fair game to my incredibly lazy, hairy cats. Their fur is a whole other level of evil....painter's tape companies love my cats.
3. My left nostril is trying to divorce my face by sending a vortex of cold, throbbing pain up through to my brain and out my mouth, giving my horrendous cotton mouth. "EwGod! What's that smell? Someone left a can of beans out!"
4. I've listed my textbooks on Amazon for the first time ever! Hawaiian vacation, here I come!
5. $15 flat-soled sandals from PayLess are the worst thing ever to happen to my feet, especially when I had to walk 3 miles today.
6. My stupid bitch-dog has a puffy taco, and that entitles her to eat the garbage in the bathroom....right?
7. Lucky number. Time to go to bed.
2. Stupid cat is sitting on my desk. I've resorted to accept that any flat surface in my house, whether it be the kitchen counter or a t-shirt drawer left open, is fair game to my incredibly lazy, hairy cats. Their fur is a whole other level of evil....painter's tape companies love my cats.
3. My left nostril is trying to divorce my face by sending a vortex of cold, throbbing pain up through to my brain and out my mouth, giving my horrendous cotton mouth. "EwGod! What's that smell? Someone left a can of beans out!"
4. I've listed my textbooks on Amazon for the first time ever! Hawaiian vacation, here I come!
5. $15 flat-soled sandals from PayLess are the worst thing ever to happen to my feet, especially when I had to walk 3 miles today.
6. My stupid bitch-dog has a puffy taco, and that entitles her to eat the garbage in the bathroom....right?
7. Lucky number. Time to go to bed.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Beyond help
It's not very often that I will pick up a book and read it non-stop, and this can be for so many reasons. I never understood why my mother liked reading so much, I mean, didn't she know that TV was so much better? I bought "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett from the local bookstore when I had a bit of money left over from our tax return. I had seen the trailer for the movie, but decided that I'd go a different route and read the book instead.
I laid in bed all day with the flu and decided to finish the last 200 pages and I've just now finished the last page of the book. There's so many emotions....many of them too heavy for my heart to bear. I think about these women and even though they're fictitious, it doesn't mean they've never existed. The guts it takes to speak up and change the way society thinks about thinks, these invisible lines, inspires me to look deeper into myself.
I've always considered myself fairly even-ended when it comes to discrimination. I grew up in a town that had a strong homosexual presence, so because of that, I thought myself fairly well rounded. Truth it, I'm far from it, and in fact my issues with my fellow humans beings tend to be the very issues I have with myself.
If one were to take a collection of all the friends I've ever had and profile them based on their ethnicity, my pie chart would be mainly Causacian. But was that by choice? Or is it a result of geographic circumstance? I remember as a young girl, playing with my Barbies, and I recall thinking "what if my hair was brown, like my best friend Elizabeth's?" I felt very sorry for Elizabeth because all the pretty Barbies only had blonde hair...and peach skin, at that. Oh, and they were straight, too, and nasty bitches to each other. It's these things that I reflect on now as I'm maturing and aging into an adult that I realize how skewed my reality really is.
I laid in bed all day with the flu and decided to finish the last 200 pages and I've just now finished the last page of the book. There's so many emotions....many of them too heavy for my heart to bear. I think about these women and even though they're fictitious, it doesn't mean they've never existed. The guts it takes to speak up and change the way society thinks about thinks, these invisible lines, inspires me to look deeper into myself.
I've always considered myself fairly even-ended when it comes to discrimination. I grew up in a town that had a strong homosexual presence, so because of that, I thought myself fairly well rounded. Truth it, I'm far from it, and in fact my issues with my fellow humans beings tend to be the very issues I have with myself.
If one were to take a collection of all the friends I've ever had and profile them based on their ethnicity, my pie chart would be mainly Causacian. But was that by choice? Or is it a result of geographic circumstance? I remember as a young girl, playing with my Barbies, and I recall thinking "what if my hair was brown, like my best friend Elizabeth's?" I felt very sorry for Elizabeth because all the pretty Barbies only had blonde hair...and peach skin, at that. Oh, and they were straight, too, and nasty bitches to each other. It's these things that I reflect on now as I'm maturing and aging into an adult that I realize how skewed my reality really is.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Laughingly laughs
Here's some real belly busters I've found in my merry adventures on the Internets.
1. Europeans and Party Poopers
2. I wouldn't mind having some of them for Christmas.
3. Because THIS is what's wrong with our country.
4. Yet THIS is everything that's right with the country.
Brought to you by the Centers for Procrastination. You may now return to your mind-numbing, pointless homework assignments.
1. Europeans and Party Poopers
2. I wouldn't mind having some of them for Christmas.
3. Because THIS is what's wrong with our country.
4. Yet THIS is everything that's right with the country.
Brought to you by the Centers for Procrastination. You may now return to your mind-numbing, pointless homework assignments.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Bursting
Wow, it's been a while. Sorry 'bout that all you imaginary readers out there. You know who you are.
I've been sitting in bed for the past 2 1/2 hours pounding out some work on the Sonoma County Gazette's blog, periodically interrupted by my goofy, gropey husband and his wet slobbery kisses (I think he took lessons from a dog at some point in his life), Brown Cow yogurt with Vanilla Cherry Granola from Food For Humans swimming around in my belly, and the beginnings of a tension headache caused by GOD.KNOWS.WHAT! I'm bursting at the seams with thought.
Thought #1: Why is my heart rate so high when all I've been doing is sitting in bed?
Good questions, ol' brain of mine. The only logical explanation I can muster is that the usual process nowadays when I have an anxious thought is matched with an equally uncomfortable physical reaction. What's that law of physics again? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Well, in my case, I think anxiously, my body reacts anxiously. So then the question remains, why think anxiously? I dunno...I guess after a lifetime of always bomeranging to the land of Wort Case Scenario can set someone up for this pretty nasty habit. GAWD how I miss cigarettes!
Thought #2: I want a cigarette!
It's been over 5 1/2 years since my last puff off a cigarette and believe me, it was for the better. I was pregnant with my daughter, and having just quit, I swore I'd never go back. Until anxiety kicked in. Now I've read that stimulants such as sugar, caffeine and nicotine can make anxiety WORSE, and while I believe it, part of me (that junkie part) is trying to justify this urge because it will give me something else to obsess on. Crazy right? Boy do I WANT a cigarette!
Thought #3: Holy shit, it's almost Christmas time, yet it still doesn't feel like Christmas 'cause it's not raining cats and dogs!
Seriously, this is March weather, cold but sunny. NOT December! That happy-fuzzy-Christmas feeling STILL hasn't sunk in. I'm usually a total crafting basketcase this time of the year, but there's something in my internal clockwork saying, "Nope, not time to start making stuff, yet. You still have plenty of time. It's not Christmas!" WTH??? Realistically, I've got about 1 week left and I haven't even started making my stuff. First I start by making a list, and since I'm such a list-junkie I'm really surprised that hasn't happened yet! Then more lists of what I need followed by lists of people to give, cookie ingredients, card ideas, crafty crafty crafty madness! Oh, if only there were an extra 24 hours in the day!
Thought #4: Making a living.
Five years ago, I was working weekends at the Chamber, brining my newborn baby girl to work with me. I had my own apartment, Jesse has a decent job and life was easy and simple. Life is still simple, and yet, I feel like I've outgrown it. Like a pubescent girl wearing clothes that don't fit her anymore, I'm still so attached to the prospects of easy, simple living in a small town; but there's no money in that. Now I can rant and rave about how I hate money and wish we lived on a barter system and blah blah blah, but that fact is we don't and money is GOD and if you don't have any, then you suck (and apparently are evil, too). And while I love what I do at my job, it just isn't enough to sustain myself and my family independent from assistance programs. Unlike what most of America thinks about families on assistance, I have a desire to be rid of them FOR GOOD! The lack of privacy or ability to drag yourself out of the depths of poverty is maddening and is what leads to fraud of the system. I wish for the day when I get to call my worker and say, "Thanks for all you've done, but please remove me. I can handle my own, now." Five years and counting...things are seeming a bit dreary and hopeless. I look to my inspirations, Dooce.com, Regretsy.com and DigThisChickMT.com for guidance.
Thought #5: Getting my ass moving on projects.
What causes laziness? No, really, I'm serious/curious! What possesses us humans to take all our potential and energy, ball it up in a nice neat package of depression and self-pity and shove it up our ass? And then we SIT on our ass, just to make sure it doesn't escape. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm one of the laziest people I know, and it is a mood thing. Dreary mornings lead to lazy launches of the day; such as this one. While not dreary, I'm slightly overwhelmed with the various projects I've left unfinished. Time for a little constructive procrastination. Set you mind to something, but do something else instead. I suppose as long as you're doing something, it's not procrastination. OH! I know, I'll make another list!
Last Thought for the day (not really): Anxiety sucks but can be good for you.
[See TIME Magazine's Covers from Dec. 5th; pay close attention to the US cover!]
Those of you who've been following my blog since the beginning (or can at least maneuver through the archives) know that I have been living with a problem with anxiety for some time now. The past few months (hence the no blogging) have been going really well, with minimal setbacks. Last week's setback brought me to a place I didn't want to go to ever again: hopeless. I kept beating myself up, saying that even after 1 year I'm still no better than I was before, blah blah blah. Then I realized just how much I beat myself up. I'm worse on myself than I am on anybody else! If it's not perfect, it's a failure. Wow! Where did THAT come from? Well, right now, that's not important (Mom & Dad), but what is important and that I realized all the many times I begged and pleaded with Life (God, Universe, whoever) to make me better, make me stronger, saner, nicer, happier, wiser...I got an answer. My dealings with anxiety are daily, ongoing and exhausting because I'm constantly fighting the urge to panic. I've often wondered what would happen if I just let it go? After 14 months of trying to hold on, I'd say it's time I start letting go and letting God take over. Hard habit to kick, I suppose. Good thing I'm a quick learner.
I've been sitting in bed for the past 2 1/2 hours pounding out some work on the Sonoma County Gazette's blog, periodically interrupted by my goofy, gropey husband and his wet slobbery kisses (I think he took lessons from a dog at some point in his life), Brown Cow yogurt with Vanilla Cherry Granola from Food For Humans swimming around in my belly, and the beginnings of a tension headache caused by GOD.KNOWS.WHAT! I'm bursting at the seams with thought.
Thought #1: Why is my heart rate so high when all I've been doing is sitting in bed?
Good questions, ol' brain of mine. The only logical explanation I can muster is that the usual process nowadays when I have an anxious thought is matched with an equally uncomfortable physical reaction. What's that law of physics again? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Well, in my case, I think anxiously, my body reacts anxiously. So then the question remains, why think anxiously? I dunno...I guess after a lifetime of always bomeranging to the land of Wort Case Scenario can set someone up for this pretty nasty habit. GAWD how I miss cigarettes!
Thought #2: I want a cigarette!
Thought #3: Holy shit, it's almost Christmas time, yet it still doesn't feel like Christmas 'cause it's not raining cats and dogs!
Seriously, this is March weather, cold but sunny. NOT December! That happy-fuzzy-Christmas feeling STILL hasn't sunk in. I'm usually a total crafting basketcase this time of the year, but there's something in my internal clockwork saying, "Nope, not time to start making stuff, yet. You still have plenty of time. It's not Christmas!" WTH??? Realistically, I've got about 1 week left and I haven't even started making my stuff. First I start by making a list, and since I'm such a list-junkie I'm really surprised that hasn't happened yet! Then more lists of what I need followed by lists of people to give, cookie ingredients, card ideas, crafty crafty crafty madness! Oh, if only there were an extra 24 hours in the day!
Thought #4: Making a living.
Five years ago, I was working weekends at the Chamber, brining my newborn baby girl to work with me. I had my own apartment, Jesse has a decent job and life was easy and simple. Life is still simple, and yet, I feel like I've outgrown it. Like a pubescent girl wearing clothes that don't fit her anymore, I'm still so attached to the prospects of easy, simple living in a small town; but there's no money in that. Now I can rant and rave about how I hate money and wish we lived on a barter system and blah blah blah, but that fact is we don't and money is GOD and if you don't have any, then you suck (and apparently are evil, too). And while I love what I do at my job, it just isn't enough to sustain myself and my family independent from assistance programs. Unlike what most of America thinks about families on assistance, I have a desire to be rid of them FOR GOOD! The lack of privacy or ability to drag yourself out of the depths of poverty is maddening and is what leads to fraud of the system. I wish for the day when I get to call my worker and say, "Thanks for all you've done, but please remove me. I can handle my own, now." Five years and counting...things are seeming a bit dreary and hopeless. I look to my inspirations, Dooce.com, Regretsy.com and DigThisChickMT.com for guidance.
Thought #5: Getting my ass moving on projects.
What causes laziness? No, really, I'm serious/curious! What possesses us humans to take all our potential and energy, ball it up in a nice neat package of depression and self-pity and shove it up our ass? And then we SIT on our ass, just to make sure it doesn't escape. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm one of the laziest people I know, and it is a mood thing. Dreary mornings lead to lazy launches of the day; such as this one. While not dreary, I'm slightly overwhelmed with the various projects I've left unfinished. Time for a little constructive procrastination. Set you mind to something, but do something else instead. I suppose as long as you're doing something, it's not procrastination. OH! I know, I'll make another list!
Last Thought for the day (not really): Anxiety sucks but can be good for you.
[See TIME Magazine's Covers from Dec. 5th; pay close attention to the US cover!]
Those of you who've been following my blog since the beginning (or can at least maneuver through the archives) know that I have been living with a problem with anxiety for some time now. The past few months (hence the no blogging) have been going really well, with minimal setbacks. Last week's setback brought me to a place I didn't want to go to ever again: hopeless. I kept beating myself up, saying that even after 1 year I'm still no better than I was before, blah blah blah. Then I realized just how much I beat myself up. I'm worse on myself than I am on anybody else! If it's not perfect, it's a failure. Wow! Where did THAT come from? Well, right now, that's not important (Mom & Dad), but what is important and that I realized all the many times I begged and pleaded with Life (God, Universe, whoever) to make me better, make me stronger, saner, nicer, happier, wiser...I got an answer. My dealings with anxiety are daily, ongoing and exhausting because I'm constantly fighting the urge to panic. I've often wondered what would happen if I just let it go? After 14 months of trying to hold on, I'd say it's time I start letting go and letting God take over. Hard habit to kick, I suppose. Good thing I'm a quick learner.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Most Imperfect
Nope, no video this time. Thought I might use my written talents to portray the thoughts whirling in my head this cold, rainy AM.
For as long as I can remember, I've had a terrible body image. I looked at my body and thought it was ugly, imperfect and not worthy of celebration or admiration. In fact, even now, the thought of having a picture taken sends me into panic; "will my double-neck show?" "I've been eating a lot lately, I bet my face is getting fat." "My pants aren't fitting right again, my "love handles" are spilling out everywhere." For as long as I've had this body, it has never been perfect. When I was 16, I forced myself to stop eating and would only eat when I was starving. I remember feeling sick for months; I'd feel sick when I didn't eat and yet when I would eat, I'd vomit or feel like vomiting. This didn't stop until I became pregnant at age 17. Then I went from 140lbs to 200lbs. I exploded. And my skin....well, let's just say pregnancy did not agree with the young age of my skin.
The thoughts are endless...I look in the mirror and strive for perfection. Why? There's no need to be perfect! Even now, in writing this, tears come to my eyes; all I want is to love my body and myself, why is that so elusive?
My sense of fashion is senseless. A mishmash of clothing that I can barely afford to buy from thrift stores, sometimes I feel tomboyish when really I just want to feel beautiful. I find it sad and frustrating that I haven't figured out a way to accomplish that WITHOUT clothing or some outside influence. Last night, in a conversation with a really good friend, I felt that nagging feeling again. The first in a very long time that I've worried about my weight and now I'm reeling, feeling guilty about all the bad foods I ate and the lack of exercise. I felt inadequate, again. I fell asleep in a very dark place; hating myself, hating this body I was given, hating that it will never be what I want it to be....and worse yet, that I will never accomplish that "perfect size."
This experience has opened my eyes. While it seems that I haven't grown much in terms of learning to love my body and myself, I do seem to have acquired the ability to at least see the self-destructive behavior and could potentially stop it. So, this morning, instead of logging onto SparkPeople and getting fanatic about "gotta lose the weight AGAIN!" I did a search; women like me. I came across this video from the Ellen Show, and thought WOW! While I have no aspirations ever in becoming a model myself, I would, however, love one day to use photography as a tool to help me ascend beyond these damaging thoughts.
I'm 165lbs, 5'6", have a bodysuit of stretch marks and wear a size 12/14. I've been this way for 5 years, and while I've tried and worked hard to achieve a change in these numbers, there comes a point where I must open my eyes and realize that these numbers don't count. What numbers DO count are my blood pressure (PERFECT!), my cholesterol levels (NORMAL!), my thyroid levels (NORMAL!), my glucose/insulin levels (NORMAL: NO DIABETES!), and the people that love me regardless of those other numbers (ALL OF YOU!).
I still wish to have a lifestyle that supports healthy habits, including eating organic foods, balanced meals, etc. One day, that will happen, when the income changes occur. For now, though, I'll continue doing the best I can, in my most imperfect way.
For as long as I can remember, I've had a terrible body image. I looked at my body and thought it was ugly, imperfect and not worthy of celebration or admiration. In fact, even now, the thought of having a picture taken sends me into panic; "will my double-neck show?" "I've been eating a lot lately, I bet my face is getting fat." "My pants aren't fitting right again, my "love handles" are spilling out everywhere." For as long as I've had this body, it has never been perfect. When I was 16, I forced myself to stop eating and would only eat when I was starving. I remember feeling sick for months; I'd feel sick when I didn't eat and yet when I would eat, I'd vomit or feel like vomiting. This didn't stop until I became pregnant at age 17. Then I went from 140lbs to 200lbs. I exploded. And my skin....well, let's just say pregnancy did not agree with the young age of my skin.
The thoughts are endless...I look in the mirror and strive for perfection. Why? There's no need to be perfect! Even now, in writing this, tears come to my eyes; all I want is to love my body and myself, why is that so elusive?
My sense of fashion is senseless. A mishmash of clothing that I can barely afford to buy from thrift stores, sometimes I feel tomboyish when really I just want to feel beautiful. I find it sad and frustrating that I haven't figured out a way to accomplish that WITHOUT clothing or some outside influence. Last night, in a conversation with a really good friend, I felt that nagging feeling again. The first in a very long time that I've worried about my weight and now I'm reeling, feeling guilty about all the bad foods I ate and the lack of exercise. I felt inadequate, again. I fell asleep in a very dark place; hating myself, hating this body I was given, hating that it will never be what I want it to be....and worse yet, that I will never accomplish that "perfect size."
This experience has opened my eyes. While it seems that I haven't grown much in terms of learning to love my body and myself, I do seem to have acquired the ability to at least see the self-destructive behavior and could potentially stop it. So, this morning, instead of logging onto SparkPeople and getting fanatic about "gotta lose the weight AGAIN!" I did a search; women like me. I came across this video from the Ellen Show, and thought WOW! While I have no aspirations ever in becoming a model myself, I would, however, love one day to use photography as a tool to help me ascend beyond these damaging thoughts.
I'm 165lbs, 5'6", have a bodysuit of stretch marks and wear a size 12/14. I've been this way for 5 years, and while I've tried and worked hard to achieve a change in these numbers, there comes a point where I must open my eyes and realize that these numbers don't count. What numbers DO count are my blood pressure (PERFECT!), my cholesterol levels (NORMAL!), my thyroid levels (NORMAL!), my glucose/insulin levels (NORMAL: NO DIABETES!), and the people that love me regardless of those other numbers (ALL OF YOU!).
 |
| At Armstrong with the Kiddos this summer. |
I still wish to have a lifestyle that supports healthy habits, including eating organic foods, balanced meals, etc. One day, that will happen, when the income changes occur. For now, though, I'll continue doing the best I can, in my most imperfect way.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Feelings...
For the most part, today has been an ordinary day. I've picked back up on a project that sort of took a backseat for a while, and got to sit down and watch an entire movie with my boy. Every morning since school has started, the kids hop in the car and, like clockwork, Atreyu requests his new favorite song, "Hurrican" by Bob Dylan. Any ol' version of the song with do, so long as it has that haunting violin track in there. And of all the things he wanted to watch with me today, he asked to watch (for the second time, mind you) Hurricane, the Story of Ruben "Hurricane" Carter. Now, I'm assuming those who are reading my blob are somewhat knowledgable and know the story of "The Hurricane." If not, visit here.
So here we are watching the story of an amazing human being overcoming unbelievable racial prejudice, not to mention some serious mental issues (no doubt caused by a rocky childhood coupled with being wrongfully sentenced to Life in Prison). Little did I know, that as the credits roll on Hurricane's happy ending, 3000 miles across the country, a life was ending; a life that most likely didn't need to end.
To save myself from any sort of backlash, honestly, I haven't a clue who Troy Davis was until about a week ago. His story, not unlike Hurricane, is tragic and tugs at the heart strings. And while this man was convicted of murder, the evidence is lacking, as in entirely! In Carter's case, the evidence was flawed, tampered; in Davis' case, it just didn't exist.
So here are some of my ramblings about today:
If any of you haven't read the book "My Ishmael" by Daniel Quinn, you MUST! He lays it out, in black and white, where we went wrong. It started with putting the FOOD under lock & key, way back in Mesopotamia. Execution is no stranger to humans, as well as rape, incest, burglary, and war. I think the more willing we are to embrace the animalistic side of our humanity, the easier we will find it to be in balance. BALANCE being the key word here. I do not believe in Peace on Earth so long as humans inhabit the planet. If we truly wanted peace, we'd eliminate ourselves.
These are just my opinions.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Down in the Dumps...
...yup, the title says it all. But, to my benefit, I see on many Facebook statuses that it was not only I who was having a shit of a day.
There's so much to be said for the relief ones feels when either writing or speaking IT out. I do feel slightly better, although I know that it is a wave of emotions that seems to conquer my thoughts.
Boomeranging from pissed off to anxious to despair to complacence is quite exhausting. Now with pounding headache, I must return to normality, which includes but is not limited to cooking dinner, picking up the house, finishing and printing homework, and remembering to BREATH.
And so upon further research on this CalmClinic.com, I've come to the conclusion that it IS a scam, and even though there are some reviews on how it helped, they are vague and posted on unknown/unpopular blogger sites. The Internet is finite; it's not difficult to get an account and perpetrate as an anxiety-ridden poor soul who stumbled upon your program and how it saved their life.
While I wish there were an easy 1-2-3 to anxiety, I just can't seem to think louder than the voice inside my head screaming SCAM SCAM SCAM. I got my hopes up...really high. And now, I'm down in the dumps.
There's so much to be said for the relief ones feels when either writing or speaking IT out. I do feel slightly better, although I know that it is a wave of emotions that seems to conquer my thoughts.
Boomeranging from pissed off to anxious to despair to complacence is quite exhausting. Now with pounding headache, I must return to normality, which includes but is not limited to cooking dinner, picking up the house, finishing and printing homework, and remembering to BREATH.
And so upon further research on this CalmClinic.com, I've come to the conclusion that it IS a scam, and even though there are some reviews on how it helped, they are vague and posted on unknown/unpopular blogger sites. The Internet is finite; it's not difficult to get an account and perpetrate as an anxiety-ridden poor soul who stumbled upon your program and how it saved their life.
While I wish there were an easy 1-2-3 to anxiety, I just can't seem to think louder than the voice inside my head screaming SCAM SCAM SCAM. I got my hopes up...really high. And now, I'm down in the dumps.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Lest We Forget
9/11 - Can't look at those numbers the same ever again. A couple of thoughts on this day:
And part deux:
So there's some deep thoughts. And here's some pictures.
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Since they couldn't get a picture on their favorite stump, they found a NEW favorite stump.
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| One of their Favorite dug outs in a Redwood. |
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| We can't ever go to Armstrong Woods and NOT visit the Armstrong Tree. |
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| They beautiful Redwood Theater, where many of the world's famous big bands of the 1920s and 30s have played. |
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| Bread is our friend. |
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| Group photo! Left to right: Ma-in-law Karuna, Jesse, Me, Jadziah, Zack, Mica, and Atreyu |
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| The meditating monster. |
It was SUCH a beautiful day! And I can feel the Princess of Autumn making her way to our little home on the River. What a great day; great friends to help distract from the bad ones. A few days ago, Jesse surprised me with this comment: "Friends are God's way of making up for your family."
Amen to THAT!
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Off Guard
Howdy y'all! In honor of my dear friend who's gettin' herself hitched today (and I can't be there for!!!), I'm doin' things Texas-style.
Here's some more complaining:
Yeah, StumbleUpon has been pretty boring today....better get workin' on that homework. Here's a little tidbit for motivation:
That one's for you, Kapi! Congrats!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Instant Listener
Ooooooh, blogger's got a new layout! Niiiiiice!!!
Ok, so we're doin' things a tad different. I'm lazy, and tired, and wanted to talk, but was sick of the phone. Then I remembered I have this wonderful MacBook with a built-in camera. Aha! Instant listener!!! So, here's the first of my Video Blogs:
Ok, so we're doin' things a tad different. I'm lazy, and tired, and wanted to talk, but was sick of the phone. Then I remembered I have this wonderful MacBook with a built-in camera. Aha! Instant listener!!! So, here's the first of my Video Blogs:
And this one...
and this one...
Here's the link to the Dasa Video
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Hump Day Notions: Sweating Success
Walking on the beautiful campus of the Santa Rosa Junior College with my husband is a newfound joy in my life, along with finding abandoned and funky little fairy-shaped Silly Bandz on the ground. Today I tackled yet again with my stellar capabilities to overcome the life-cripling anxiety that has become so prevalent in my life.
Not to mention the hungry, hungry Anise Butterfly caterpillar that we've bee nurturing:
Today was also the kid's first day of school. Atreyu transitioned into 3rd Grade beautifully today, with his new teacher Mrs. Robinson (whom I also had as a science teacher in 5th Grade). Jadziah was the one I was most excited for, since she stepped foot from preschool into Kindergarten on this beautiful sunny day. The feelings of elation, coupled with overwhelming sadness, spread throughout my body. As we walked them to their class rooms and gave them good bye hugs and kisses, I said to Jesse, "Can I cry now?" He dutifully responded, "Just wait until we get to the car." Sigh.
Speaking of growing up fast, Jadziah has taken up the art of riding her bicycle, without training wheels. They spent about 20 minutes in the sweltering heat in the tennis courts practicing runs and the like. Talk about sweaty success! These kids had a total bad case of helmut hair.
What's a mother to do? THIS is why we continue to expand on the species! We're forced into this perpetuating cycle of needing them to have independence, and yet the trade off is they ultimately end up leaving us. Gee wiz!!! Why didn't anybody tell me this?! They all told me how hard it was going to be just to keep them alive! They didn't mention any of this heartbreak when they grow up and leave. Sigh, #2.
Delicious Successes!
Part of the best therapy for me has been tending to my garden. Almost every morning this summer, I would walk into the garden with my cup of tea and gaze at all the overnight changes. Some might say that I'm a bit crazy for thinking that I'd even notice any change after a mere 10 hours, but YOU try putting down some Bat Guano and not see the magic unfold before your eyes. Here's a photo collection of what we have yet to harvest from our humble garden:
Not to mention the hungry, hungry Anise Butterfly caterpillar that we've bee nurturing:
So now I'm going to part on this lovely day to continue with my homework and editorial duties, but I leave you with this video of my dream dog, who sits at my feet whining 'cause she can't join her boy, who's outside playing right now. Pity her, the poor thing.
Bye for now!
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Progress
It's almost 11:00pm on a wonderful Sunday evening. Just wrapped up watching StarGate, the movie with the fam and now getting ready to snuggle down and fall asleep to (you guessed it!) StarGate SG-1. Hah!
As I sat there watching the movie, I wondered to myself if I would have the gutz to walk through the StarGate. Honestly, I'm not so sure if I would. Today we went to Armstrong Woods with the intent on hiking one of the trails. I haven't done this is over a year and honestly the thought about being out in nature, a good amount of distance from my home, was making me feel more than uncomfortable. When I mentioned to Jess that I'm not feeling much for going on a big hike, he let out a sigh of relief and said he wasn't up to it, either. Good, I thought, 'cause I wasn't sure how well I was going to handle it. So, to answer my question, if I were given the chance to walk through the StarGate today, I would not do it. Right now, my sense of adventure and discovery is clouded with the fog of my anxiety disorder. Best to wait for the fog to lift.
And it's not that these foggy days are taking over my life, infact I've experienced more sunny days than not. However, sometimes it's hard to "roll with the fog", so to speak. I'm still looking deep to try and figure out how I got this way. I've summed it up like this: according to all the pros on Generalized Anxiety Disorder, the onset of the anxiety began after a traumatic event that shook my emotional foundation; however, the stage was set, with a super high-stress lifestyle, including overloading myself with school work, extra activities and volunteer work, leaving little to no time for myself, and even my family. So my brain did what it had to, by shutting me down. Now, I still believe I made it worse when I started investing a "cure" in medications and started on those. I know, now, what I need to do to get better.
So how do I do that? Well, for the longest time, I had no hope because even though I was consistently exposing myself to anxious situations, I lacked a sensation of relief when I accomplished my goal. Lately, however, I've had tremendous progress, especially when I face my fear and go forward. Today was an exception, because I felt like I hadn't pushed myself because we did not go on the hike, so internally, I wouldn't allow myself the satisfaction of feeling accomplished. Yeah, I know. I'm working on it. But I do remember feeling better after we went to the DMV last week, and that was a HUGE amount of stress; it felt so good getting it done and over with, walking out of there intact, and moving on with my life. I've given myself permission to ask for help, ie. have Jesse come with me. I think, in a way, this is designed to bring us closer together, or some bullshit like that.
The point is now I've made so much progress that even my perfectionist-self cannot deny it. I still have my moments/days when I feel like it's the end of the world/I'm overloaded/overstimulated/never going to get better. But I have this great arsenal of tools at my disclosure. My recovery includes going to Al Anon meetings, seeing my counselor, expressing my feelings openly with those around me, eating right, exercising daily, enjoying something (ie going to the river, sewing, reading, etc.), spending quality time with my children, deep breathing, meditating, journaling, blogging, and when I can-exposing myself to anxiety-inducing situations. I'm on my way, and even in this moment of anxiety, I'm feeling awfully optimistic and empowered.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Reassurance
The daily struggles with anxiety can leave a person feeling heavy hearted and sometimes very hopeless. I struggle and battle and succeed and accept anxiety on a daily basis and have been for the past 10 months. There has not been one day in those 10 months that I haven't experienced anxiety, even for just a minute, and I've often thrown myself into the investigatory role, seeking the answers to "why?". Yesterday and today are no different. Anxiety existed, but it wasn't at the forefront of my day. I carried on as normally as I possibly could, completing my goals and tasks for the day. Then, like an animal run out into the road, it was there, and it startled me. The adrenaline continues to resonate, as it did last night and now into this morning.
And quite literally, an animal DID cross my path as I drove, and as I did before, I slammed on the brakes. The opossum stayed put in the middle of the road as my car drove over it, not touching it, sparing it from death. I stopped, dreading that I had killed another innocent animal, only to see it's dark shadow continue across the road. What strikes me as odd with this is I had described the anxiety hitting me as though an animal had suddenly crossed my path. Is this a message? Or just a chance occurrence? I don't know, and I'm tired of speculating.
So I wonder, what caused this animal to cross my path?? What caused anxiety to cross my path?? I think the answer is nothing, it just happens. What reassures me is that there IS no reason, now, because for so long I sought for an answers to only learn that the answer is EVERYTHING. Everything in my life has caused my anxiety to do what it is doing. Everything from over-committing myself to the fights with Jesse to how I ate to the traumas I experienced as a child. Everything is responsible, so now it's time to start the change. I've made efforts in the past, but as usual we gracefully fall back into place of habit and comfort.
My reassurance is I KNOW I won't stay like this forever, although it may be a long long time. I'm not one to just accept that it's my destiny to fear everything and be stuck, in fact most of my frustration comes from how impatient I am with my recovery (a good sign, no?). And while everyday DOES have two handles (faith and anxiety), I am keen to picking up my day by both handles. I have faith in the Universe that I am capable of getting through whatever get's thrown at me. I carry anxiety so it doesn't carry me.
So for today, on this gorgeous sunny, overwhelming-to-the-senses day, I'll take the anxiety as it comes and embrace it. I'll practice my tools for when it gets tough, and I'll still come out of this day alive and well, just like I have for the past 10 months.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Ache
I'm aching all over...in my heart, in my head, in my body....the aching is ongoing.
I feel like the lights have been turned out and I'm forced to crawl through a room of doors, looking for the right one out. I've opened door upon door only to find myself back in this dark room of doors. Now I'm sitting here in this room, wanting to give up and just sit in sorrow on the floor. I'm sitting in this room, I've stopped feeling my way for the exit...I've stopped.
What makes a person wake up feeling like this? What causes this anguish? Where's the relief? I've asked God over and over to shine some light in this dark room, but am I not looking? I don't understand.
My head is pounding....from stress, from anxiety, from holding back the tears. I have no desire to do anything. I'm scared.
Of what? There's nothing to fear but fear itself, and that is precisely what I fear. It's as though I'm experiencing EVERYTHING and it causes me to become very overwhelmed with life. Even the smallest task has become the most daunting; the list of responsibilities is endless and I have no desire to even start on it.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Jump
This morning, at 9:30am, a young man walked onto the bridge, jumped the fence, tied a rope to the grill-siding and jumped to his death. The rope snapped and his body plummeted into the Russian River. He walked into the midspan of the pedestrian bridge, gracefully hoisted himself over the fence and expertly tied the last knot of his life. It hadn't occurred to me that I was witnessing the last moments of somebody's life until a while later...but as I sat there watching these carefully executed steps, he laid, dead, on Johnson's Beach. (The picture is from last week when Jadzy and I went on a walk to town; I've always loved how the bridge casts its shadow on the lazy River below.)I wanted to jump through the screen and stop him and scream, "How could you? Why our town? Why here? You're so young! And I know you belong to SOMEBODY! How could you do that to them?!" I half feel sad and half angry! A sort of personal violation, because not only am I deeply attached to this town, I'm also attached to THAT bridge! He jumped where Jesse and I said our vows on the day of our wedding. He splashed into the River of my childhood memories, and those of my children. He washed ashore on the beach where thousands upon thousands celebrate a moments worth of freedom. How could he desecrate these sacred things for us?
...but then...I thought again.
Although I never met him, I've heard much about him. Dasa, my brother-in-law and in spirit, took the same plunge from a bridge in Portland, Or. Did any of these thoughts cross his mind? He wasn't in his right mind at all, so probably yes but the need to do it far outweighed the effects it would have on those around him. Those like his family who would never see him or hear him again...and those in his family he would never meet. Or even the woman who came to work that day, to glance out her office window and discover his lifeless body dangling from the bridge. What came into HER mind? Was she consoled, too?Today, I feel like that woman...if ONLY I had been there 1 hour earlier, maybe I could have stopped him? Really, who knows why? I can honestly say, in my experience, that it was a mere thread that kept me from taking that same leap....those two little threads have kept me sane most my life: my children.
Dasa didn't have children, and I'm assuming this John Doe didn't, either.
So now what? Do I move on with my plans for the day? Or do I sit here and wallow in the sadness that surrounds me? Is it in their honor that I move on or is a disgrace? There's really no manual on how to deal with this kind of thing, not only in how to move on but also in honor of the dead. I'd rather not move on with my day as though nothing happened, but I also can't stop life from happening. Somewhere, a mother or father or brother or sister is getting a call that their loved one is dead, and I'm sitting here wondering how to go about the rest of my day because of it.
This evening, my family and I will be on the bridge to bid him a proper farewell. This cleansing of the bridge will help me to move beyond this tragedy, but also will help him move onto where he wants to be. He obviously did it for a reason, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt that he made the right choice.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Inspired
I'm so full of inspiration, I can hardly write, so I'll do the next best thing: make lists.
What do THESE things have in common?
pottery
art
prints
photography
color
sex
food
chocolate
writing
poetry
peace
walking barefoot for life
hope
ambition
blogs
dance
music
sing
laugh
talk
tell stories
converse about nothing
Alan Alda
popcorn
These are a few of my favorite things.....that I want to do or do to them the things that I want to do. Confused? Well, I don't necessarily want to "do" Alan Alda (course, if I could swing back to the 70s, that's a WHOLE other story), but a think I'd like to do with Alan Alda that is on my list would be "converse about nothing" with, or "laugh" with.....Jesus, did I really have to explain that? Ok....yeah, I'd do him, big deal! The moral of the story is, I'm SO inspired by the swirl of energy and art and beauty and tragedy and conflict around me, all these things on my list are exactly what I want to do and/or feel simultaneously at this very moment. How can I do that?
Well, I can start by putting M*A*S*H on the tube, that would take care of the Alan Alda/laugh part....but the rest? Yikes....I've given myself a long laundry list of "To-Do's" that could fill a lifetime! Or maybe it's more like a grocery list? A laundry list would imply I've already got it but it needs a serious cleansing, where as a grocery list suggests that I DON'T have it and need to get out there and get it....nah. It's a laundry list, maybe 'cept for the chocolate and food part....
So, look forward soon to a new blog by me documenting the progress of one of my favorite passions, my hometown, Guerneville. What better way to be a budding Historian than to document the goings-on of today?
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