I'm Still Mad as Hell

For the past four days I've been trying to get past the idea of being contacted by a "man" for what I would guess was only one thing....

And for four days, I haven not brushed my hair, put on make-up, put my contacts in, or felt comfortable in my skin.

And for four days, I've hid my body in baggy clothes.

And for four days, I've felt like my husband was mad at me or disappointed in me (although there is nothing to suggest this).  

And for four days, I've had trouble sleeping, had trouble waking up, and had trouble being happy.

It's been a LONG time since I have felt this much anxiety.  I don't even know why I have this much anxiety.  All I know is I feel like this is some sort of evil trick.  I've been very successful over the past three years with my weight loss journey and now out of the blue, I'm finding my insecurities are all still there.  

I thought I was strong, but I am not.  I thought I could do this, but right now, I cannot.  I thought I had an alternative to food, but I am learning, that I do not!  

I'm not even sure where to go from here right now.  What I do know, I still have no coping mechanism....  What I did have, apparently, was a lot less stress in my life.  Now that the stress and anxiety is back, I am realizing that food is still my coping mechanism.  

For four days, I've ate and ate and ate.  And I've exceeded my calorie goal every day.

For four days, my life has stopped.  My home life is suffering, my work is suffering, and I'm suffering. 

I guess the good news is, I have learned a lot about myself in the last four days.  And right now I'm scared.  I don't know how to move forward and mostly, I'm mad as hell (I guess I need to put that song on repeat)!  I'm mad that I can't cope in a different way.  I'm mad that I need to cope!  I'm mad that I feel guilty and I've done nothing wrong!  I'm just MAD!

This isn't a very positive or helpful blog post, but it's raw, it's honest, it's how I feel, and it's sad that this happens to women/men every single day!  

#NoMore

Honestly, I had forgotten about this blog.  It was in the back of my mind, but it wasn't something I was thinking I'd come back to.  I didn't think it mattered to anyone and it sure didn't seem to matter to me anymore.  Then, out of the blue, my sister sends me a picture of my blog with a comment asking if I was going to be adding to it again.  Sadly, the comment was from almost a year ago.  It made me realize that maybe the blog wasn't all about me.

So, last night, I sat down and wrote my welcome back blog.  As I was writing, I realized that my blog was therapeutic for me.  And, although I thought I didn't need it anymore, it felt good to write; very good!

And the ironic part is that I needed it yesterday!  I read back through my previous blogs and I can't find where I shared about some of the reasons I believe I hid behind my fat.  Mostly men and the guilt that I had when they approached me.  So, I'm going to write about it again.... sorry if you already heard these stories, but it's a big deal to me.

Men....  I don't understand how they can be so crude and yet not even realize there is a problem with what they are doing!  My father and grandpa's could never have prepared me for what men would say or do.  Nor can I ever imagine them saying those things to a woman.  Then, I married an amazing man and I can't imagine him saying anything like what I've heard men say about/to other women.  I will KILL my boys (okay, probably just disown them) if they ever talk like that.

Imagine a gangly 9 or 10 year old girl who was raised like a boy.  My father's friends (husband and wife) used to take us to church once in awhile; very nice people.  Then, one day, the man starts talking about how he wants me to pose in a swimming suit on his sports car.  I laughed it off.... I mean I was in the 4th or 5th grade.  It seemed weird at the time and I'm not sure why, but it was creepy and yet flattering at the same time.... all the while I thought the whole thing was a joke.  It happened on multiple occasions though.  Joke or not, it's f****** creepy!  Who says that about a little girl!  To this day, I cringe when I see a woman on a car!  I don't think my father or mother ever knew about it or maybe they did and that's why they stopped hanging out with them.  I don't really
know and I never really asked.  I just wanted to forget about it; I still do.

8th grade graduation

Fast-forward to my 8th grade year.  I was 13.  I often hung out with my older sister and her friends.  She was great about including me, especially since I was kind of a pain in her butt.  Most of her friends were like big brothers and would have never let anything bad happened to me, but there is always that one creep I suppose.  Football "star," attractive, and interested.  It seemed nice to get the attention at the time.

Our high school and junior high were in the same building.  The upper floor was for the high school and then the lower floor was split, 1/2 for 7th and 8th and 1/2 for 5th and 6th.  So, every day for lunch and PE, we would walk past the high schoolers sitting on the hallway floor.  This one boy would always grab me as I walked by and tell me how beautiful I was.  I think he was a junior at the time.  It was uncomfortable for me to get that much attention, but it also made me feel a little bit better about myself.

This behavior continued and when I started high school, it was even worse.  I owned this one black dress and it had a little spring to it.  Whenever I wore it and would walk by, he would pull it so it would fling up.  I'm sure everyone thought that's what I wanted, but I didn't.  I tried not to wear that dress except for on volleyball or basketball game days (I didn't own a lot of dresses).  He would corner me often too and tell me how beautiful or sexy I was.  It happened a lot of game days.... even in the gym.  Always with the touching.  He had a girlfriend at the time.  She just didn't go to our school.  Who know's if he did it to others.  I still feel creeped out when I think about him.

The following year, that boy had graduated and I was starting to gain a little confidence.  Then, one day while riding the bus home from some sporting event, another boy began to take over where the other boy left off.  This time, I was armed with more confidence and tried to shut him down quickly.  However, these boys are persistent and they think it's okay to touch you to get your attention.  This awkward relationship (him trying, me freaking out) continued until he graduated.  Over the summer, I saw him alone in the bar.  I confronted him about everything and asked why he was out without his wife.  He wasn't really in any condition to talk, but I am still mad at him for thinking it is okay to touch women without their permission.

Throughout high school I struggled because I never believed anyone could really find me attractive.  I was average at best.  I didn't really fit in with the popular crowd and I didn't really fit in with the nerdy group.  I was just in the middle and I tried to make everyone happy and be friends with everyone.  I didn't want to be a mean girl.  Many times, boys would ask me out and I would think they were joking.  I always turned them down because I thought it was all just a big joke to them.  I never saw the worth of myself.  I really only dated one boy and that was though peer pressure I thought.  I truly believed that I pressured him into dating me and then I won him over with my personality (that boy is my husband of almost 19 years).

There were other isolated incidents in high school where I felt uncomfortable or like I could be taken advantage of at any moment, but they were single events.  Never as persistent as the three people I focused on.  Still, nothing I would wish upon my daughters or anyone for that matter.

Source

10 years past graduation, I was 28, and had four children (the oldest one was 9, youngest was 3).  I was a stay at home mom and probably going through the toughest 5 years of my life (my weight was somewhere around 220).  Through no fault of my husband, I felt alone, ugly, fat, overwhelmed, and unwanted.  One day, I posted a survey on MySpace and someone from high school responded to it.  It was weird.  Then, out of the blue, they asked me to send them pictures of myself and like an idiot, I did.  Immediately regretting my decision, I told my husband shortly after.  He was devastated, I felt awful, I was a terrible wife and I had made him feel like an inadequate husband.  When really, my issues of self-worthlessness stemmed from inside me.  There was nothing he could have done differently to fix that.  It took a long time to repair what I had screwed up in a matter of seconds and one email.

As you can imagine, that was probably the biggest turning point for me.  That is where I really began to put on the weight.  I loved my husband more than anything.  I found him to be the most attractive man in the world.  And in literally seconds, I broke his trust.  I'd like to say that in the years following, I was better, but I wasn't.  I still had many days where I doubted his love for me.  It's really only been in the past two years where I haven't had a major jealousy outburst.  I think it has a lot to do with getting older and even more to do with communication.  We have learned to communicate better and talk more about what we need.  Additionally, I have a job and that keeps my mind busy.  I don't have as much time to sit around and think about him leaving me.

Fast-forward to yesterday.  The same man that asked me for pictures 10 years ago, starts talking to me again.  At first, I thought he just sent a mass message to everyone he knew, but I quickly realized it was just for me.  Then he asks if he can ask me a question.....  UH!  I've put all of this behind me for the most part and now all these feelings of anti-trust and the disappointment I caused my family came rushing back to me.  And I remember why I hid myself among all these layers of fat to begin with.



***I don't know why men act like that.  We are both happily married with children.  And yet, this past year we've heard about case after case of sexual harassment (mostly celebrities).  Every time, I think about why the girls didn't come forward sooner.... then I think would I?  Would I have let them do that to me?  Would I have been able to say no?  I would love to think that I would be strong enough to tell them that they are an idiot, but I don't know that I am.  Is it something about my people-pleasing personality that doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings?  Is that what would keep me from saying no?  And dear Lord, I hope to hell my daughters could tell these men to F*** off!  Why do we have to feel like it is our fault for being approached?  Why do I feel guilty and why do I let people make me feel this way?  Andy why do we feel like we are the only ones?

What it's like to lose 100 lbs

One of the biggest reason I wanted to lose weight was for my children.  I wanted to be sure that I was healthy enough to be around for a long time and that I'd have the opportunity to see my grandchildren grow.  I also didn't want to embarrass my children.  Although they would never admit it, I worry that my children will feel embarrassed when their mom doesn't fit the seatbelt on the plane or can't quite squeeze into that ride at Disney Land, but more importantly, I worry that they'll be embarrassed when they have to stop and wait for their mom to walk up the stairs to their school or barely fit on the seat at the school concert.  It's really the day to day struggles with being fat that makes it hard to be a good parent or at least one that doesn't embarrass her children.  

The timing of my healthy living movement was really based on my anxiety around my children's embarrassment.  My oldest daughter graduates in 7 months and I knew when I started this journey that I only had about two years to get down to a weight that wasn't embarrassing.  I wanted the spotlight to be on her, not on whether or not I could get up and down the stairs to watch her graduation or her friends finally seeing me and thinking about how big her mom is (WAS).  With 7 months to go, I have about 60 pounds to lose before I meet my overall goal, but honestly I'd be thrilled with another 40.  The problem is, as I have posted several times in my last few posts, I'm not currently losing weight.  

The bigger problem is, I kinda secretly hate my new body.  So, I don't hate it when I have clothes on
and I don't hate the fact that I fit into my son's coat or my daughter's jeans.  I don't hate being able to buy clothes out of the women's section or that my shirt size is large.  I love all of those things.  It makes me feel like me again.  I do however, hate that my boobs are smaller...a lot smaller.... One day, my daughter said to me, "I thought you weren't wearing a bra because your boobs are so much different."  I might be able to handle smaller boobs if they were a little less flimsy.  I feel like I could fold them in half.  I've always been busty and I'm still not small chested by any means (not yet anyway), but I have no volume to them and that makes me sad.  I hate them!  I don't feel sexy or beautiful because I can literally see folds of skin when I look into my bra.  Lots of folds.  

While my breasts are kind of a big deal for me, they aren't the only body part I hate.  My stomach, although it used to be similar in look (mom apron), it is a lot softer.... I don't know how else to describe it, but it has no bounce back.  I push on it and it's just floppy.  It's gross.  Oh, then there is my hips....  The skin just folds over there too.  Oh, then there is my butt.  Ah, I'm happy to not have a butt growing on top of my butt (you know, the extra hump that seems to grow at the top as you get heavier and heavier), but I had that it has not rigidity.  Another body part that folds over.  My arms are flappy too, but I guess I'm okay with that because I don't remember ever being happy with my arms.  Although they are flappy, at least they are smaller.

I'd love to be happy with my body and love me for me, but I think I was better at that when I was heavier.  I was okay with my big butt because it was firm.  I was fine with big breasts because they were solid.  Now, everyday I face a body that grosses me out.  I don't feel sexy for myself or my hubby.  I know that when I lose my next 60 pounds that it will only get worse.  I wonder what body parts will I start to hate then.  It's hard for me to be content with my body and want to lose weight when I'm not happy with the way that I look at the end of the day.... or beginning.  I'm not trying to make any excuses, but I think I'm self-sabotaging because I can't seem to find peace with my current body.  

On a side note, but also important to me, I feel weaker.  I used to think I was strong.  I could lift things, move things, and generally do things on my own.  Now, I can't and it is frustrating.  

Time to start building muscle and toning up this flabby body.  I just worry about how I'll handle it emotionally if I don't get the results that I think I should have.  And the anxiety returns and my drive to improve dies.  

Backpackers Ready

Last weekend, we spent an entire day preparing our packs for our tri-annual backpacking trip.  Our packs have been filled and weighed and our route has been chosen.  Our destination is clear and our hearts are ready.  We leave in a couple days and I couldn't be more excited to see this country again and show it's glory to my two boys.  I hope to someday be able to do the same with my girls. 

My worry now is that I won't be strong enough to make the trip.  I have a lot of excuses as to why I might not be strong enough, but for now, I'm ignoring those and pushing forward.  Still, the thought of letting everyone down weighs on me a bit, but not as heavy as last time.  Instead, my focus turns to my children.  I worry that we won't bring enough food for the boys and that they'll be hungry and malnourished.  I worry that they won't find it as amazing as I do, but in my heart I think they'll enjoy the beauty because we have always taught them to do so.  I hope that they find it peaceful and challenging, but not overwhelming.  I'm sure they'll be fine, but I want them to have the best experience possible.

For weeks now, I've watched my hubby try to hide his feelings about this trip as not to sway my decision to go one way or the other.  However, this past weekend, I could see his excitement as he sorted through all of our gear, prepared our fishing bag, and helped the boys understand their packs.  Nothing makes me happier than seeing him excited about an adventure.  He goes into a different mode when he's preparing for something and it's really cute.  His excitement is a good enough reason for me to make this trip whether my mind thinks I'm ready or not.  

This time, we will be going for a shorter amount of time so we were able to pack less food.  Currently, my pack weighs about 20 pounds which is great, but we may have to make some adjustments before we actually leave.  As of now though, things are looking great.  I'm about 80 pounds lighter than the last time I hiked and my pack is about 10 pounds lighter.  I'm hoping all of this makes a huge difference in my speed and stamina.  Instead of taking most of the day to get to camp, I hope to do it in about three hours.  However, it stresses me out a little to put a time frame on it.  The goal is to get there, the time is a bonus. 

As the day approaches, I have begun to feel more anxious.  I know I could have done so much more to prepare physically for this trip and yet part of me wants the scenarios to be similar so that the main difference is how much weight I've lost.  It's more than just a trip into the peaceful mountains this time.  I want to know that passing up all those donuts, skipping the dessert menu, ordering salads, losing all this weight, and working so hard is worth it.  I already know how it's changed my day to day life, but I want to see if it's changed my quality of life.  And, putting all this pressure on me to perform drastically better than the last time is probably unhealthy, but I want to know what I can do today and I'll never know until I do it.  We'll see how my mindset changes once I'm actually in the moment, but for now, I hope to see big things.  Either way, this will be another emotional trek.

To Hike or Not To Hike

So, this summer marks the three year anniversary of our last backpacking trip.  Oddly, I knew this time would come.  It was three years between our first trip and our second trip and as summer was approaching, it just seemed like the time was right to take the trip again.

I've spent the last two days recollecting the last two trips and while the visual walk down memory lane was magnificent, the physical thought of repeating that hike is far less interesting.  The whole experience is something that is so hard for me to describe, it's something you have to experience for yourself.  

While the total distance may not seem like much (some people actually do this as a day hike), the elevation change is intense and the physical toll it takes on a body is crushing.  I lost my big toe nails after both the previous hikes and while the blisters were better on the second hike (thanks to new boots), they were still there.  

Still, there is something inside that is pushing me to go.  I want to know how much easier it will be after losing some weight.  Yet, I'm scared that it won't be any easier and I'll still feel as though I'm going to die and letting others down.  I've been thinking about this for months and I'm still having a hard time making the decision to go.  My head goes back and forth between hiking and camping.... If I just want to go camping, that's a whole lot easier.  However, my heart wants to be back up in those mountains.    

As of Wednesday, we are leaning towards going.  In fact, at this point I'm going to say we are going -- we've started a packing list so that's a pretty good sign it's going to happen.  This time though, both my boys want to go.  It will be interesting to have them along.  They worry about me and my physical capabilities a lot.  I've noticed this more as I've become more active.  I don't want them to worry about me on the hike.  I just want them to enjoy the walk and take in the beauty and hopefully, they'll find a love for backpacking and continue to do it long after their time with us.

Our current goal for the hike is to take two or three days to hike and still travel nearly 20 miles.  I'm not sure I will be able to do it though.  We've never done it in that little time.  If you set a time frame though, you have to stick to it because you have people waiting for you and no way to contact them until you're out of the mountains.  Also, you only pack so much food.  You don't want to carry more weight then you need to.  So, if we say we are going to do this in three days, we have to do it in three days.  The time frame also worries me because once you're up there, you want to see as much as possible.  There are so many lakes you could visit and with that short time frame, we won't be able to make it to very many places.  Still, the adventure will be good and anything you get to see up there will be worth the trip.

Anxiety is going to cause me some grief over the next few weeks as I stress about all of the things that could go wrong and all the ways I might fail, but I'm not going to let anxiety keep me from going.  I need to know how much of a difference weighing less will make - if any.  I'm still worried about how hard it's going to be and what will happen to my mindset if I don't find it any easier.  

Fear and Anxiety

I was diagnosed with anxiety disorder when I was first diagnosed with postpartum depression.  As a result, some things are extremely hard for me.  Planning times to meet with other people is challenging for me, even planning to meet family is tough at times.  I don't know why.  I think it's more about the anxiety leading up to the event.  Usually once I'm there I do okay; especially when my husband is there to calm my nerves.  However, I don't always realize that it's anxiety that is holding me back in life.

Hanalei one of our puppies

Exercise is no exception.  When I was younger, I was bit by a dog just under my right eye - the scar is still visible sometimes.  To this day, I am still scared of dogs.  If I know the dog, I'm okay, but the thought of going for a walk and having a dog run up to me is frightening.  This is something that has kept me from walking with my children for their entire lives.  If my husband isn't there, it is really hard for me to go (I don't think I've gone on a walk more than 5 times without him).  This may be an unrealistic fear now that I live in the city, but in my home town, dogs ran free a lot of the time.  It wasn't uncommon to encounter them in your own yard and definitely if you went for a walk.  However, in the city there are fewer dogs running free and rarely do you see one just walking the streets.  Still, I can't even park next to a car with a dog in it and I know they can't get me.  So, although it might be unrealistic, it's very real for me. 

Dogs aren't the only thing that keep me from walking.  I am so scared of falling down and not being able to get up and some stranger having to help me that I don't want to walk alone.  I also don't want to walk with just my kids.  I'd hate to embarrass them or have them feel like they need to help me when I know that would be nearly impossible.  Unlike my fear of dogs, this fear hasn't been with me forever.  About 14 years ago,  I twisted my ankle pretty badly in a store and fell to the ground.  Although it wasn't broken, I did have to wear a brace and keep pressure off of it.  I had never twisted my ankle before that event, but ever since, I was twisting it all the time and if my husband wasn't there to hold me up, I usually ended up on the ground.  A few years later, my hubby and I went to a Blazer game.  As we were walking back to our car, I twisted my ankle about 7 times before we got back to it; each time my husband was there to hold me up.  By the time we got to the car, I was exhausted, in pain, and so embarrassed (I was probably crying too).  It was probably this walk that solidified my fear of walking.  However, another one still sticks with me too.  On my first day of college, I was walking out of class, stepped on a uneven crack on the sidewalk, my ankle turned and I hit the ground.  Some of my classmates stopped to see if I was okay and pick up my phone that had slid across the ground.  I was able to get up, but I was very sore and my wrist hurt for years after that.  

The fear of falling, compounded with my fear of dogs, has kept me in my house for years.  I still get very nervous walking on pavement and I can't stand to watch people run on the sidewalk or road.  I am so scared that they will fall and get hurt.  It literally makes me sick to my stomach to think about it. 

Are these rational fears?  No, probably not, but they are real fears that I experience still today.  These fears are holding me back from being successful and I know it, but I'm still not sure exactly how to get over them.  

There has to be a way to get over the anxiety that lives inside me.