Skin - Part 2 - There will be extra!

Skin.... did I mention the extra skin!  Oh yeah!  I did!  It was a really long post about the cons of weight loss....

Well, I'm going to write about it again because I think it's a evil trick.  I mean, who lets someone lose 130 lbs (116 currently) and then says oh yeah and as a reminder for all the overeating you did in the past, you will now live forever with the weight and undesirable characteristics of excess skin!  Congratulations!  Oh, and don't forget how it will pull and tug at you causing your skin to tear and become sore -- ya know, just as a reminder of your gluttonous habits.  

It's no surprise that when you lose weight there will be extra skin.... you can read about it anywhere.  Of course, the less weight you have to lose, the less excess skin you'll have to carry.  Still, nothing can quite prepare you for the mental battle that this extra skin can cause - I'm going to post pictures so be prepared.... 

It seems as though every time I look in the mirror (without clothes), I'm pinching, pushing, pulling, or tucking at my extra skin.  "If I could just have this removed" or "When I get this removed."  I probably say those two statements at least 5 times a week to my hubby (okay, it's probably more).  

I say to myself, "If I could just have this apron removed from my waist," then I

pull the skin down and to the sides to smooth out my stretch marks.  It looks pretty good.  I can even see my hip bones (yep, I actually have those).  But then, something happens.  While my mid-line is looking a little more human like, I notice the skin on my thighs is sagging something awful.  My saddlebags are nearly folded over and the skin between my thighs appears to have creases as well - fold lines if you will.

Apron.... Zoomed

Then, I am saddened by the realization that no matter how much I think one surgery will help, there will always be something wrong with me.  There will always be that one spot that needs attention.  "Just a little off the sides, a lift here, plump these up...."  

It's gross, it's nasty, it messes with my self image and my confidence.  It keeps me from wearing the dresses I really like or short sleeve shirts.  And you can forget about shorts.  

And while all this extra skin is nasty, my attitude about myself as a human is nastier.  Why is it okay to demean myself so much because of the excess skin that hangs from my body?  I wonder just how shallow of a person I really am? 

I know that if given the ability to have skin removal surgery when I reach my goal weight, I'd do it.  And I also know with everything I have "fixed" I will simply find something else to find fault in.  It's how I work.  I don't think I'll ever just be content in my own skin --- pun intended.  ;)

Will I always have to do this?

It's a funny thing weighing your food and counting calories.  I mean it's inconceivable for me to think that there are other people out there that weigh their food and record it for every meal.  I guess it's that kind of cockiness that has gotten me to where I am today.  It's almost like if I don't believe anyone else could be recording their food then it must not be happening and if skinny people everywhere aren't weighing and recording their food then why should I have to?  

A month or so ago, I reread one of my journal entries from 2005; I wrote, "Will I always have to write down everything I eat.  Will this be something I have to do for the rest of my life?"  Every time I started a new diet, I started a new journal.... I have all these journal entries that start with me being excited and ready to lose weight and then after just a few entries, they stop.  No real signs of success and definitely no sign of persistence. 

I laughed when I read that entry.  I stumbled upon it at the perfect moment.  A moment when I was down, hadn't been recording my food, and was wondering why I had to record my food when other people didn't... of course, I have no idea if other people have to record their food.  Yet, at that moment in time, I felt like the stress from life was too much to handle adding the commitment of weighing and recording food.  Stress is something that often stops me from doing the things that are best for me.  It's another element of my anxiety.   

My hubby did start making us portioned lunches, healthy and weighed for the entire week.  I loved having these meals pre-made and they tasted great.  Like all things hard, we weren't great about keeping that going consistently and besides eating just my pre-made lunch, I was supplementing heavily with candy.  Something I LOVE.... I think I've mentioned that before.  

It's easy to think you're eating healthy because you do one or two things correctly and it's also easy to eat poorly because you think you're eating healthy.  I guess for people who eat healthy all the time or 90% of the time, they may not need to record their food.  I am not one of those people who eats healthy all the time.  I like to eat healthy, but I also love hamburgers and pizza and Chinese food and candy.... ya know all the really bad stuff.  So for me, I probably will have to record my food for the rest of my life and I'm going to have to learn to stop worrying if it's something that everyone else has to do or not.  It's clearly something I need to do.  I know it works for me and that should be reason enough.  

So for now, I need to get back on the wagon.  Those 18 pounds I've gained since December aren't going to lose themselves. 

Crippled by Anxiety

Wow!  As always, I'm amazed when I look back and see how long it has been since I last blogged.  Three months is way too long.  I know this because I've been telling myself to blog for weeks... maybe even months. 

This has been a rough three months.  I have gained 18 pounds since Christmas and with every single pound I gain, my anxiety is magnified.  It's amazing what stress does to your mind and your body.  I wish that I could say that it will all be okay, but I don't feel like that's true.  Every pound gets me one step closer to that 200 lb mark and if I cross that, I think I will feel like a complete failure all over again.  

It's interesting how you can trick yourself into believing that you are confident....  I do it all the time.  Mostly, I'm trying to convince everyone around me that I'm all good.  In reality, I'm a mess.... I've always been a mess.  I know I've mentioned before that I can't handle making simple phone calls to take care of things, such as paying bills.  It's not just making phone calls to people I don't know.  I can't make phone calls to people I do know either.  

Most of my days are a war against me and my brain.  One second I've convinced myself I'm confident, I look amazing, and I can do anything.  The next, I'm breaking inside because I'm bad at everything.... I'm a terrible mom, an awful wife, an inconsiderate sister, a lousy daughter, a cruddy granddaughter, an undeserving friend.... 

More seconds are spent in the demeaning section of my brain than in the confident part of my brain.  I wish this wasn't the case.  I do notice that the level of stress with which I am faced with drastically effects my ability to think positively.  I wonder how other people live life with stress.  I know everyone has it, but why is it so crippling for me?  Why do I try to self-destruct when faced with stress?  How do I change it?  And WHY on earth does food have to be my go to?  For goodness sake, why couldn't it have been running? 

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!  

130 lbs... The Good and The Bad

Last year on January 6th (2017), on weighed 190.6 lbs.  It took a long time, but finally on November 17th, 2017, I hit a big goal.  I weighed in at 176 lbs, I had lost 130 lbs!  It felt great and was only temporarily rewarding as the following week I had gained weight.  My weight went up and down over the next month and I finally dropped down to 175 on December 18th.  It felt good and I was looking forward to seeing that 174....  However, that never came.  Last Friday on my weigh in day, I weighed 182.2 lbs.  It scares me to see the scale go back up into the 80s.  I know I need to make some changes.... Most importantly, I need to record my food again.  I cannot stress how important recording your food is for weight loss.  It is keeps you honest!  

So, technically I have lost 130 lbs (probably 2 or 3 times in my life if we can count each time I gained and lost weight - which we probably should do that).... I just need to get back down to that weight again.  

Losing 130 pounds really was amazing!  I lost my entire self as a senior in high school!  That is insane!  I have energy to move (not so much energy to think) and I can jog further than I remember being able to in a long time.... I mean I can JOG!  That in itself is impressive!  I can tie my shoes and I don't run out of breath.  I have extra room in my coat.  I can buy clothes from the women's section.  All my rings fit (even my high school ring) and some are even too big!  I can paintball with my husband and kids.  I can hike mountains.  

When I look in the mirror or see a picture of myself, I am me again!

Now, the negatives and yes most of them may be superficial, but they are negatives and interrupt my everyday life in one way or another.  

1. SKIN - Lots of extra skin!  This is the worst one really.  My face (my whole face) sags now.  It's okay if I smile, but if I get caught in a photo without a smile, I look like a bloodhound.  Oh, and those wrinkles show up more predominately too.  I have extra skin that hangs off of my thighs when I try to do planks.  And saddle bags for days... it kind of hangs over, almost folds over.  I have skin that hangs off of my tricep area (lots of it) and this is something that really bothers my nieces and nephews (me too).  They like to touch it and ask me if it hurts... um no!  They also want to know if I want it there... um no!  Of course, they don't know what to say, they are just being honest.  In addition to my face, thighs, and my arms, I have skin that hangs off of my belly.... this is DEFINITELY the worst area.  It makes noise when I jump or sit fast (and sadly, sometimes it sounds like I farted when I didn't.... but I think I'd rather people thought I farted than I had a giant flap of skin that plopped down and made a fart noise).  It hangs and flops when I exercise, when I lean over, when I'm intimate.... Pretty much anytime I move!  If I could afford skin removal surgery, this would be my first stop!  It's so horribly embarrassing for me.  
2. BOOBS - I guess I still have boobs.... According to my bra size anyway (36 DD).  Still, I really think I have something that is better described as skin flaps....  Yeah, gross.  I must say 5 months ago, this would have been my number one concern.  However, they have improved a little and are starting to get some of their elasticity back.  Still, they can fold in half.... yeah, I don't know how else to explain that.  They also flop and fall flat whenever I move.  The good news here is they can hide in a bra!  So, people see them as normal.  Therefore, on my skin removal surgery list, this has to move to #2.  
3. Hypoglycemia - Yeah, I'm not diabetic and it's hard to convince the doctor that this is what's happening to me, but the signs are all there.  It generally happens once a month (sometimes more) and I can't quite figure out why.  The episodes are short (less than 15 minutes usually) and can quickly be resolved by eating 5 lifesavers.... I don't know.  I just know it works.  It's a trick I learned by reading about helping kids who were having an episode.  The worst thing is that I literally sweat through all of my clothes.  Okay, that might not be the worst thing....  I also get very shaky and incoherent.  Sometimes I feel like I'm going to start having seizures (I don't know what that feels like, but I feel very weird). 
4. I have nothing else really pressing, but I'd like to go back to #1 and 2.  I thought I would be strong enough to let the skin issues go, but I was wrong.  It is very hard on you mentally.  I can see all the health benefits, but I can actually SEE all the skin and sadly for me, most of the time that gets in the way of me being completely happy. (Sorry, I don't have many pictures that really show the extra skin... even if I did, I'm not sure I'd like to post them....)
   
   

Overall, losing 130 lbs is great, but it is important to know that there are some real struggles when it comes to the extra skin!  Hopefully one day I'll be able to afford the surgeries I want and hopefully they will help me feel more comfortable.  Until then, I need to keep on working towards my goal.  I'd still like to weigh 160....  My original 10 year goal was to weigh 140, but I'm not sure if I really want to weigh that amount anymore.... Right now, I'm just trying to get back down to 176.  

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.  

199 - Say What?!

Although, my last post was fairly negative, I didn't mean to give the impression that I had given up.  Yes, I have not been working very hard to reach my goals, but that doesn't mean that I have completely given up.

On the plus side, I have lost 13 lbs since this school year started.  Although, I'd be much happier with 13 lbs a month, I'm still happy that I have been able to find moments in time where I could be successful during this very stressful time.

An added bonus, on September 30th, I weighed in at exactly 200 pounds.  I honestly don't remember the last time I weighed that amount, but I know that it was probably when I was pregnant with my first daughter.  So, over 17 years ago.

An even bigger feat for me was a few days later when I weighed again and the scale read 199.  Interestingly, while overwhelmed with excitement to see a 1 as the first number on the scale, there was some disappointment to see that big 99 as the last two digits.  For years, I have been messing up and saying I weigh 1-something.  So, when the scale said 199, it was sort of hard for me to be happy about.  It just reminded me of how mentally challenging weight loss can me.  I should have been jumping up and down with joy, crying, screaming and celebrating.  Although I was happy, I wasn't as thrilled as I expected.  Seeing 99 sort of made me feel like I was at my biggest again.  Still, my family took me out to celebrate; after all, you only get to go under 200 lbs once - right?

Over a month later, the scale continues to go back and forth over the 200 mark.  I haven't been able to find steady success under 200 and I know what I need to do, but haven't found the strength to do it yet.  I hope November turns out to be the month I figure it all out and get back on track, but if it's December or January, I'll be happy.  The important thing is not to lose hope and to look back at how far I've come.

I'm having a hard time finding full body pictures of myself before the one I posted above.... I wonder why?  When I find one, I'll be happy to post a now and then comparison of me at my biggest and hopefully me at my smallest (since high school).  Whenever I scroll through Facebook and see old photos of myself, I am in shock.  I can now see why others may not recognize me.  Although, I finally feel "normal" again, they never saw me as the person I am today.  When I look in the mirror, I see the same thing I saw for years and I now understand why it was so easy to be secretly obese.

The Other Stress of Parenting

You'd think that writing a blog would be the easy part of this journey, but apparently it's just one more thing that I can use lack of time as an excuse as to why I don't do it.  As I mentioned in my last post, I understand the importance of blogging to my success and yet, I still haven't done it in over two months.  It's not the only thing I've made an excuse for in the past two months.  I haven't recorded a full days worth of food in my food journal or bothered to actually exercise in that time either.  While I'd like to analyze why I haven't taken the time to do any of those things, I think I need to start by getting out my excuses for not doing it.

You see, I'm a teacher which means my year runs from late August to mid June.  When I think about the start of the new year, I'm not picturing a New Year's celebration on January 1st.  Instead, I'm picturing organizing desks and classroom supplies, decorating walls, planning lessons, and trying to memorize 90-100 new faces.  So, when I look back at my life (at least since being a teacher), I see it in chunks of time that go from August to August.  And this is important because when I talk about last year vs. this year, I'm talking about my life in school years.

Last year at this time, I was still fairly fresh on my life changing journey to become a better - healthier me.  With fairly little effort, I had lost 28 pounds.  Also, I had changed schools and I had found my new position, although still full of challenges, to be rather refreshing and relaxing in comparison to my previous years.  While there were still the same struggles with day to day life, I was not overly stressed.

Fast-forward a year later and I'm stuck in a rut.  I feel the pressure of this school year far more than I did last year.  This probably means I'm a better teacher this year, but I also know that means I'm taking a larger toll on my body, soul, and mind!  My year started out strange as I was the most experienced math teacher at my grade-level department meetings.  There is a weird strain that is placed on a person in that position (or maybe I placed it on myself) to be a leader and help others to be successful.  So, instead of worrying about whether my classroom was a success or not, I'm worrying about the success of almost everyone in the department.  There are some other factors that have added to my stress at work and will continue to be there as the year progresses.  I think that's true in any job though.  Still, I've never been good at managing stress.  I have a very strong "flight" mode when I feel stressed.  And I think, "flight" might sometimes mean eating away the stress or drinking away the stress.  I'm not much of a drinker, but during very stressful years, I will find myself drinking a few nights a week where as on non stressful years, it might be a few times a month.  Mostly, those things are masking the real "flight mode" that I feel I need to take: quitting my job.  Without those crutches, I don't know how I would have ever kept working.


In addition to a stressful start to the school year, it is my oldest daughter's senior year of high school.  Everything costs so much money and right now, I am so thankful that my dream to have twins never came true!  Besides the cost associated with being a senior, there is the added stress of her leaving for college.  While I worry a lot about where she will end up, I worry more about her facing rejection.  I know that she will not be accepted into every college she applies for, but I don't know how to help her through the disappointment of not being good enough.  I sense she will handle this better than I ever would have.  Which is probably why I never applied to go to college.  I fear she has put so much pressure on herself that she will break and I won't know how to help her.  I never dreamed about what my daughter would be when she grew up.  I didn't picture her as a doctor or an actress or a pilot or anything.  All I ever wanted for any of my children was for them to be happy and choose a path that makes them happy!  And now, as I know the time is coming to set her free to find what truly makes her happy, I worry that she may never find happiness.

Oh, yeah, and did I mention that she's headed to France this summer and we need to find a way to pay for that without making her feel like she is a burden on our family....

Then, there is my son.  He LOVES football.  He has played for three years.  His first year he thought it was alright, but he didn't really know if he wanted to keep playing.  However, something happened in the offseason his first year and he began to really study the game.  Since then, he has worked hard to get better.  Still, his coaches haven't been great about giving him the recognition he deserves.  He is a great kid and makes hard choices to do the right thing even when his friends aren't and yet those same friends are the ones the coaches idolize.  I want them to see him as the hardworking leader he is, but instead they seem to ignore him.  It has been so hard for me to keep my mouth shut and not point out the good things they haven't given him credit for (tackles, sacks, fumble recoveries, covering multiple positions for injured players, being at practice daily, working hard, being a positive role model).  I coached for the last three years and I made sure every player felt like an important part of the team.  And sometimes that meant encouraging them to show up and be there for their team.  This boy is there everyday at least 30 minutes early, he is the first one to the huddle, he never messes around, and he seriously studies the game on his own time.  Yet, he can walk right by the coaches and they don't even say hi.  They never say hi to me.  They completely ignore me or act like I'm not a mom.  After three years with them, I am thrilled to be done with these coaches, but man their lack of understanding about what it means to be a TEAM and the importance of family had been a HUGE stress for me this season.  Their season ended a week ago and I still wake up in the middle of the night irritated and thinking of all the things I want to say to the coaches.  The stress of knowing that my child doesn't feel valued is unbearable sometimes.  I don't know how to overcome this kind of stress either.  I know that there will be times in all of my children's lives that they won't be given credit for what they did or they won't be valued or accepted as they should be, but at 13 everyone should feel supported and important.

Now, I have two more children who have had great coaches and the stress that I feel for them to be valued or accepted is currently much smaller, but that isn't always the case.  Why didn't anyone ever tell me that the real stress of parenting - the very, very hardest part - would be seeing my children's hard work and effort devalued, watching them fail, and having them believe they weren't good enough?  How can this be fair?  I can only hope that we have provided them with enough love and support to feel valued even when someone else can't see their worth.

And so, these are stresses that are keeping me awake at night.  These are stresses that put so much strain on me that I can feel pressure in my chest.  These are stresses that convince me that I need to quit my job and stay home.  These are stresses that keep me from making healthy choices.

While they are still just excuses, I know, feel, and live the authenticity of these excuses every day.  To some, I know, they will seem minimal and conquerable.  To me, they are not.  I don't see an end in sight, I can't look past them and move on.  These are things that heighten my anxiety and keep me from being happy.  I know that I need to find a way to be healthy and take care of me first, but like every time I've started something "for me" in the past, I just don't see how my health/happiness trumps my children's.

Where's the Fire?

Well, it's been awhile since I've blogged, but we did make it through our backpacking trip.  Someday I'll write more about it, but for now, I just am happy to be back to blogging.

The trip was good, but it did kind of mess up my eating schedule/recording my food and once again made me lazy.  In addition, once we were out of the woods, we stopped to eat and I ordered a pop....  So, I also broke my year long streak of being soda free.  

Probably the worst thing is I haven't recorded a full days meals since we left for our hike.  As a result, I haven't lost much weight.  This last week though, I tried to record my food a little more regularly and get back into my good habits.  I'm just doing what I can right now, but it did help.  I had only lost three pounds in the weeks leading up to last week.  One week back on the wagon (sort-of) and I lost five pounds.  So, I know how important recording my food is, yet I still don't want to do it!  

In many ways, I am disappointed with myself for not recording my food after only 4 days without internet access.  I am also disappointed with myself for drinking pop here and there since our trip.  It doesn't taste that good and it makes me feel funny!  Still, now I seem to be missing my willpower to stay away from it.  I haven't resorted to ordering it, but I do steal sips from my hubby or kids when they have it.  

Another sad thing is I lost a lot of my support people around the same time I quit logging in and recording my food; not literally, but in the sense that they no longer log onto our food recording system.  That's tricky because if you don't feel like anyone is watching it's very hard to hold yourself accountable.  Realistically, I know that I'm doing this for me and I'm my best motivation, but it does something to my brain not to have people "thumbs-up" my status when I log my food or enter my weight loss.  I wish it didn't matter, but it does.  I've even logged in with my husband's account and wrote myself an encouraging note.  I need to find another way to make it appealing for me to login and record my food.  That seems to be the best way for me to lose weight and so I have to find something that motivates me to keep doing it.  I guess that's why I'm back on here today.  

I know my blog isn't read by everyone or even very many people, but I need to be accountable to more people.  I have to make time to blog and share where I'm at in this process.  I have a long way to go and I can't let myself get in the way of my success.  I need to find my fire, my passion, my reason for being happy!  I hate that I let things wear me down, make me feel depressed, and keep me from reaching my goals.  Why do I always feel like quitting when things don't go the way I expect them to or when I fail?

Today, I am 2.2 lbs away from losing 100 total pounds!  I'm so close to that major milestone, but I have a long way to go.  My goal for this week will be to hold myself accountable and to take it one day at a time.  I'll try not to give up when/if I fail...that will be the hard part. 

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.

What's That You Brought With You?

I left for my parents yesterday morning.  This time, I brought my scale with me.  I probably should have left it at home, but I need that reminder to stay on track and I guess if that means dragging my scale along for the nearly two week trip then, so be it!  

I know I won't be able to use it on our backpacking trip, but the other days I can.  I know I've written about my scale before, but for me, it isn't so much the amount I weigh everyday, just that I am doing it.  It's probably one of those things that someone could label, but I prefer to think of it as a security blanket.  It gives me peace of mind knowing I didn't gain 30 pounds overnight or that if I eat something I shouldn't it won't kill me (at least not immediately) and that I need to forgive myself and move on.  Weighing helps me with that. 

Still, I must find some guilt in weighing daily and even bringing my scale along or I don't think I'd write a whole blog post about it.  I guess now, I need to ask myself why I feel guilty and should I?  Sometimes, maybe, I look into my feelings and actions a little too closely.  On the other hand, maybe not looking close enough is what allowed me to become secretly obese in the first place.  

And, sadly, I wonder if I will ever stop second guessing myself?  Will I ever just be okay with things the way they are or is this something I need to go through to heal?  

Popiversary

http://thisishowyousonic.com

Today marks the anniversary of the day that I gave up pop - my popiversary.  It's weird to think back to a time when I "needed" pop to make it through the day.  Oddly, I still have those moments (like last night) where I really want a soda, but they are pretty few and far between.  I don't know what causes it, but you'd think that after a year without something, you'd just kind of forget about it.  I guess that shows you how addicted I was to it.  

This addiction started in high school, I think.  I used to drink a Coke at school or share one with my boyfriend (now hubby).  It was the one bad thing I did for a very long time.  And, since I wasn't drinking or smoking, I used that as an excuse to continue to drink soda (a lot of soda).  I switched to diet probably 14 or 15 years ago, but that didn't stop the weight gain.  In fact, it probably made it worse.  If there aren't any calories in it then you can have as much as you'd like....

I know I've written before about giving up soda after reading an article with Russell Wilson and that was a big factor, but it wasn't the only factor.  I'm not even sure what the other factors were on this day a year ago, but I do know how it started.  I was headed east to visit family for the week when the kids and I stopped at the gas station, as always, to grab snacks and drinks and instead of grabbing a pop, I picked up an iced tea/lemonade drink.  It wasn't bad and I didn't miss the soda.  Once we arrived at our destination, I realized I hadn't had any soda that day.  Instead of reaching for one, I went shopping for Vitamin Waters so that I could make it through the week without being tempted to drink a pop.  I figured if I could make it though a week on vacation without drinking soda then I could make it anytime.  I don't know what it was about that day, but I guess the timing was perfect because I haven't looked back!  

I remember when I had made it a month without drinking soda and I was so proud of myself... actually, I can remember when I made a week, then two.  After that first month though, it seemed to get easier.  The worst thing for me was seeing it in a glass.  The ads just before the movies made it incredibly challenging for me.  I recall sitting in the movie theater and closing my eyes so I wouldn't see the Coke ads.  The bubbles rolling up to the top made me crave it, but shortly after it was gone, I'd forget about it.  I had the same problem at home when my husband would pour a drink, but if he used a cup that wasn't see through, then it wasn't a problem -- luckily, he had no problem making that adjustment to support me and later giving up pop himself.  It was hard to go through a drive through and order a water when everyone else was getting a soda.  Usually once we drove off I'd be fine, but sometimes it would make me sad for quite awhile.  It feels like you're being left out and that makes it really hard to stick to the plan.  I made it through the tough times by telling myself, "I don't drink pop!"  Sometimes I needed to repeat it more than others, but just knowing that I was choosing not to drink it and that I was in control helped.  

In addition to celebrating the first week, second week, and month of being soda free, I also celebrated making it three months and six months.  After that I sort of forgot that I had ever even drank pop.  So, it is a little weird for me to be writing this to celebrate a year without it.  However, I think it's important.  I had contemplated this day for the first several months of quitting this habit.  I once thought, I'd celebrate once a year with a glass bottle of Coke and now that the day has arrived, I don't even want it.  While it might seem trivial to celebrate giving up soda, this is really what started my whole journey and I can't imagine making the decision to be healthy without ditching the soda. 




Tip #5 - Choose a bad habit to give up (just one) and challenge yourself to see how long you can go without it.  You might surprise yourself!

Dressing Room Saga Two Doors Down

I continued my search for the perfect (or at least one that would fit) bikini top yesterday.  This time, we headed to the mall for more variety and I was certain I would find it somewhere.  The biggest challenge has been finding the swimming suits.  It's mid July and apparently all the inventory is gone.  It seems crazy that they wouldn't stock their racks better.  People wear swimming suits all year around, but I guess they don't like to purchase them in July.  

Of course, once I did find the swim suit section, there was very little to choose from and even less for busty people.... In most stores, I haven't found a single bikini top that would fit anyone who wears a size D or larger.  After the first store, I decided to move on to stores that I knew sold plus sizes.  

I found myself in a Torrid dressing room with two bikini tops and a tankini.  Neither of the bikini tops were all that attractive, but I was hoping they'd at least fit.  Sadly, neither of them would hold the girls up -- looking for a little support here.  I moved on to the tankini, it wasn't what I was looking for, but it was cute.  As I posed (smile and all) for a selfie in the flamingo adorned top, I heard the woman who worked there usher two more people into the dressing room just down from me.  Then I heard her ask someone if she was okay.  I heard another voice respond, "She's just sad.  She went to Victoria Secret because they were supposed to be having a big sale on swimming suits and nothing fit her."  The next part was mumbled, but I heard her finish with, "She leaves for Idaho in two days."  Before the salesperson left the dressing room area, she told assured the woman that it would be okay and they would take care of her.  After she was gone, while sobbing, I heard the woman say, "I don't think it will fit past my hips."  She continued to cry as the person in the room with her offered her support and encouragement.  I wanted to stay and see how it ended, but I was done and needed to go.  As I walked out of the dressing area, I saw a mother and younger child searching the sparse selection of swim suits in hopes of finding one that would work for her daughter, the one in the dressing room who had been crying.  I never saw the person in the dressing room so I don't know how old she was.  It hurt me even more to think that this might be a teenager struggling with her weight, her self-identity, and her self-worth.

The scene was all too familiar for me.  I too have found myself crying in the Torrid dressing room.  The people who work there are amazing and I'm sure they helped the girl/woman feel better and I'm hoping they found her something to wear on her trip.  Still, trying on clothes is a scary thing for anyone who's a little overweight (or a lot overweight).  I felt so much pain for the person in the dressing room next to me.  Why can't heavy people just go buy something off of the shelf?  If America is really that fat, why don't they have more clothes for fat people?  It's especially hard when you need a specialty item like a swimming suit, but right now, I can't even find a pair of shorts.  The other issue is that clothes for skinny people are generally cuter.  I picked up two "identical" bikini tops yesterday, one was a size XL and the other was a size 16/18.  The XL (which by the way is probably a C cup) was super cute, but the 16/18 had been modified and wasn't cute at all.  I left Torrid empty handed and heart broken for the person I left crying in the dressing room.  I'm starting to think this search might be harder than I thought and maybe I just need to wear my bra!  At least it supports me and looks cute.  

300 Views

When I started this blog, I was doing it for me, but I was also doing it so that other people could see what I went through and maybe even relate.  Today, my blog hit the 300 viewer mark.  It's pretty impressive to me that people would want to read the thoughts that come out of my head.  I know that I'm not an exemplar writer and most of my blogs have mistakes, maybe even all of them (I don't know), but what I write comes from my heart.  Whether you agree with it or not, it's what my life is like for me.  Just as the voice in my head sounds different than the voice I hear on video tape, the stories I tell are the way I see the world and events that take place in them.  These are not necessarily the way that others see them and I respect that.  I know that is especially hard for people who are close to me, but they keep coming back and reading and supporting me and that is really all I could ever ask for.

I hope that in addition to people in my family, there are others who are reading this blog and who continue to come back to see what has happened in my life and throughout my journey.  It's pretty cool to see that people from across the world are reading what I write.  Sometimes my blogs are messy and seem to be all over the place; I'd like to blame that on my ADHD.  Still, whether you've read one blog or all of them, I appreciate the support.  If no one was reading them, I might not still be writing them.  Even though, this started as a way for me to face my fears and make peace with myself, knowing that others are checking in makes me feel supported.

Writing daily this month has been especially challenging.  I guess I forgot how busy of a month July is.  And, as the end of July approaches, I have some big plans that are going to make my goal of writing daily even more challenging, but seeing that people are actually looking at it holds me accountable.  So, I just wanted to take today and say thank you for reading my blog and hopefully you find it a little enjoyable.  

I've LOST a Whole Child!

At this point in my weight loss journey, I'm usually not too afraid to step on the scale.  While it still seems unreal, I have lost 90 pounds in the past year.  I've also lost two inches off of my neck (crazy huh!), 6 inches off my hips, and 13 inches off my waist.  I wish I had taken measurements of my other body parts.  I know at one time I had that all written down in one of the weight loss journals I had started, but I guess I gave up on that and finally threw it away because I can't find it anywhere.  I'd love to know how much I've lost off of my thighs and arms.  I know I've lost something off of my calves because regular boots fit, but I have no idea how much.  

To help put my 90 pound loss into a little more perspective, my husband likes to compare my pounds lost to my eleven-year-old son.  He weighs about 87 pounds.  Chew on that for a bit!  Yeah, I've lost an entire child -- an eleven-year-old child...a sixth grader!  For that, I am grateful.  I am proud!  And, most of the time I am happy.  I've packed him around on my back a few times and really, it doesn't feel like much weight.  Still, I know that 90 pounds off of my back and knees is a great improvement.  Not to mention my resting heart rate is now around 56 beats per minute.... Athletes are between 40 and 60 beats per minute.  Also, my blood pressure is really good.  So, not only do my clothes fit better, but I'm doing something that (hopefully) is making my quality and length of life better.  Still, I've got a ways to go and I'm not losing sight of my end goal just yet.

For the most part, I find myself enjoying every day.  I find ways to get out of the house as much as possible, which is hard for me because of my anxiety, but if I just go do it, then I'm usually okay.  In addition, I like to look at clothes.... I wouldn't go as far as to say I like shopping, but I do like to look and daydream about what I might look like in certain outfits.  I brave the dressing room a lot more now too.  Despite the fact that many of the clothes I pick out still don't fit, I try not to let it bother me too much.  

I'm currently on the hunt for a bikini top and some shorts.  This has proven to be challenging.  It seems like they only sell bikini tops in youth sizes....  Or that's what it looks like when I try them on.  If I was going to use Doritos to cover my boobs, I'd do that!  And, at a fraction of the cost!  I get it, you don't want girls without a tiny frame sporting a bikini, but I'm not going to wear it for the whole world.  I just want something comfortable to wear around family... you know, the people who won't judge me.  I'm not giving up.  I'm going to find it, it might cost me an arm and a leg, but I'll find it.

In addition to the bikini top, I've found it hard to find good shorts.  I don't quite understand why a size 18 is not always a size 18.  Why aren't there standard sizes?  Tonight I picked up three pairs of size 18 shorts off of the same rack (same brand) and one of them was much larger than the other two pairs -- like three inches bigger.  Of course, I tried on the larger ones first and they didn't even fit comfortably.  This confuses me because I have a size 16 pair of jeans that fit me great.  How in the world can we make girls feel good about their size if they can't even figure out what size they are?  

I think part of the issue for me is that sometimes the clothes are "juniors" and sometimes they are "womens."  Why is a size 18 in juniors different than a size 18 in womens?  Or how do we make it more clear so I know what size pants I'm trying on before I get into the dressing room.  It's really very frustrating.  I think there is also a plus size 18.....  JUST FIGURE IT OUT PEOPLE!  Quit messing with our heads.  

In short (ha, ha - get it - shorts), I'll continue to search for shorts and keep trying them on no matter what.  I can't let little things get to me.  If I could realize I was obese for short periods of time and then forget about it, I can surely feel crummy about not fitting something for a short period of time and then forget about it.  And, really, I think it's more important that I feel healthy physically and mentally then worry about what size pants I'm wearing.  

Until tomorrow.  

Envy

So the other night, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw this post from an old friend.  I read through the comments and recognized someone I hadn't seen since about the 5th or 6th grade (maybe before that).  I tend to think that I don't forget about people, but this person hadn't crossed my mind for 20 years.  I went into total stalker mode -- Facebook is good for that.

After going through several of her photos, I realized she's still got "it."  Sadly, I was not happy for this 36 year old woman who seemed to have a pretty great life and the body/looks to match.  Instead, I went into total judgement/comparison mode and ended in a jealous-anxiety fit.  Immediately, I go into thanking my husband for marrying me (and I am very thankful for that) and spouting off depressing things about him not having the opportunity to find someone better!  WTF?!  I mean, I was fine! FINE! five minutes before that.  Proud of the life I have, the marriage I have, the kids I have raised, the career I've chosen, the weight I've lost....

This crazy behavior proves that although I'm "working on it," I still have a long way to go!  The good thing is, I was able to fall asleep and actually sleep.  The better thing is, I woke up refreshed and thinking why in the world are you comparing two totally different lives with one another?  I think this is progress.  This is something that could have brought me down for quite sometime.

I'm about to make a judgement/comparison/jealousy statement (admitting you have a problem is the first step - I think):  I am so envious of some of my friends who lead their lives full of happiness and love for others.  I try to do that, sometimes I think I do...maybe I need to give myself more credit, but these people amaze me.  I love them to pieces because they look at the world with an open mind.  Although I pretend to do this, I'm not as good at it as I'd like to believe.  I think deep down (maybe not that deep), I feel like if I open up to this person or that person, I might get duped.  Maybe they don't really like me, they're only pretending, and then someday they'll attack (whatever that means).  For this reason, I keep a guard up....  I cannot remember anyone ever doing something like this to me, but I remember feeling like this as far back as grade school.  This seems quite demented and makes me wonder why I have this strange fear.  

In high school, this boy kept asking me to a dance - so often it was really annoying.  I never said yes, but I probably would have if I didn't think that he was joking.  I thought it was just a prank.  He was a good friend and I liked him as a person, but I really thought there was some surprise ending that was lurking in the shadows if I said yes.  Why?  What would make me think that?  It's surprising that I said yes when my now hubby asked me out the first time.  It's probably because the risk was worth the reward.    

I think the woman on Facebook reminded me that I'm not the only lady out there.... Seriously, sometimes I forget.  It makes me question if I'm good enough for my husband; which is just awful and he's never treated me as if I wasn't.  It's just another irrational fear that I can't figure out where it stems from.  It's like I think, if he sees this woman and sees how hot she is then maybe he'll wish he had dated her instead.  Sad fact, I've deleted people from my Facebook page because they were too pretty....  What it the hell is wrong with me!

I'll take the small victory of being able to let it go quickly, but I wonder if I'll ever be able figure out what causes me to react this way.  Maybe it doesn't matter what causes it, only that I fix it.  Now, how do I do that?

Backpacking at 294 Pounds

In 2013, my husband, his friend, and I set out to hike through the same mountain range as we had hiked in 2010.  This time though, we were taking a different path and planned a trip that would cover 30 miles of terrain in six days.  The idea of hiking this area again was unbearable.  Before when we had hiked, we had spent the months before preparing by working out at the gym - something we didn't do this time.  Not to mention, adding 20 pounds to my weight didn't encourage me any either.  Still, after many conversations and debates, I said I would go.  I did this only for my husband because I knew he wanted to go again and I also knew he wouldn't go without me (we're a team that way - a package deal if you will).  This time, we would be travelling with one of my husbands best friends from high school -- an avid hiker.  Last time, I was worried about failing my hubby, but this time, I was worried about failing them both.  

Determined not to die, I hugged my dad at the trail head and thanked him for the ride, before strapping into our packs and taking one last photo.  I tried to think of an excuse to get me back into that pick-up, but nothing was coming to mind and I knew my pack contained communal gear.  With hesitation and fear, I cinched down my straps and began the walk to the trail.  Before long, we were out of site and into the woods.... This was happening again.  

When we hit the fork, we took the left this time, which in someways relieved me a bit.  It was a new trail, a new path, and gave me hope that I may be successful after all.  We hiked for hours, this time slower than the last.  With each step, I knew I was holding my other party members back.  I wanted so desperately to be able to keep a good pace for them, but knew that I couldn't do it.  In the distance, our final resting place could be seen for miles and each hour that passed seemed to push the mountains further away.  The new trail was gradual and provided beautiful scenery.  I could imagine the Nez Perce camping in the glacier-carved valley next to the calm creek that flowed through it.  Their tipi's spread out, children laughing and playing, and horses grazing.  I imagine it would be a wonderful place to live for the summer, high above the world and so peaceful.  This daydream kept me going for quite awhile.

Within a mile or so (I was too tired to know for sure) from our first stop, I became overwhelmingly exhausted.  I was ready to quit, but my husbands friend charged ahead, dropped off his pack and returned to pack mine the rest of the way.  This was my first defeat.  I had failed both my husband and his friend and embarrassed myself.... I literally couldn't even pull my own weight.

By the time we made it to the first stop, I was beating myself up pretty bad over my inability to make it on my own to the lake.  Although the guys were awesome, I knew that I had slowed them down by several hours and it was only day one.  We made camp, enjoyed the stars while laying out on the rocks, ate some food, drank a little whiskey, and settled in for the night.  

The next morning, we packed up camp and headed down the trail, through the same rocky hillsides we had passed through before, but this time, we pushed on past the beautiful lake where we had camped before and made our way to another valley where we made camp.  Then, we hiked to the bottom of a mountain cased with granite boulders.  This is where I would leave these two as they ventured up this insane slope to a lake at the top.  Still exhausted from the hike the day before and the one that morning, I slowly found my way back to where we made camp.  Here, I rested in my hammock until the boys returned bearing fish.  I spent the next half hour or so weaving a small basket to cook the fish on.  The warmth of the fire, the taste of fresh fish, and the conversation was enough to make me forget about my anguish from the day before.   

The following day, we headed over the mountain and rested at a lake we had never seen before.  It's always hard for me to describe how incredibly beautiful these places are, but every time you see something new up there, your jaw drops and you realize how small you are in this big world.  It stops time and allows you to enjoy the beauty of nature.  This lake was no different.  We made camp on the other side, fished for hours using grasshoppers we caught along the shore, and slept soundly under the starlit sky.  

On day four, we made our way around the lake and crossed a creek before heading down the rocky trail.  Our packs were slightly lighter and our lungs were adjusting to the altitude.  We followed the gravel path for quite some time before I stepped on rock and twisted my ankle.  My hiking poles kept me from falling all the way to the ground and helped me make it the remainder of the way down the path.  When we reached the bottom (and more lakes), we sat, took our boots off, and did a little bandaging.  We also did a lot of contemplating.  Here is where the trail split.  To the right, the path we planned on taking.  To the left, the shorter path....  For the first time since day one, I knew I was holding everyone back and I didn't want to be the reason the trip was cut short.  I wanted so desperately to finish the 30 mile trek that we had planned, but the boys chose the shorter path.  I knew it was because of me (they were both fine), but they would never say that was chose the shorter route.  

Sadly, we marched to the left and headed down the mountain.  On the trail, I silently took blame for ruining the trip that was planned and I knew I let everyone down.  To make matters worse, the clouds rolled in and rain fell.  The proximity of thunder and lightning put a sense of urgency in my step and I booked it as fast as my legs could go.  We made it to the meadow where we were able to set up camp just before the down pour.  Eventually the clouds parted and we were able to enjoy our last night in the mountains; although, the guilt in my heart was heavy.

On our final day, we packed up camp one last time and headed down the same path we had exited on three years before.  This time though, it didn't feel as triumphant.  Instead, I anguished in pain as I reflected on my failures.  I was certain this would be the last time I made this trip.  I was just too big to do this kind of thing.  Choosing the path to the left was almost as bad as being rescued; I just wanted it all to be over.  As we made our way down the trail, past the river, and saw the lake signifying we were near the end, I couldn't help, but be a little proud of what I had accomplished.  Although there were mishaps, there were also plenty of reasons to be pleased with what I was able to do at 294 pounds.  

Emotionally, this trip was quite different than my first trip through these mountains.  I had little faith
in my abilities and yet, I also knew that there weren't a lot of 300 pound people even attempting this feat.  I wanted to be strong for the two men that were travelling with me, but I wasn't nearly as strong as I had hoped.  It hurt so much to see myself as a failure in front of these two and taking the short-cut didn't help, but I doubt they ever saw me as a failure.  It's funny how differently we perceive ourselves from the way others see us.  Three years later, I can look back and see how they might have seen my journey as an inspiration, not a failure. 

Listen to Your Mother

My Mom and Me 1998

My mother has this saying, "What people say behind your back is none of your business."  At first it seems sort of weird to think about.  I mean, why wouldn't people talking about me be my business?  Then, the more you think through it you realize just how ingenious it really is. 

I've heard my mom say that saying countless times.  I never really thought it applied to me, because I truly believed that I didn't care what people think.  And, in some cases, I'll say that is true, but in the case of my weight, it seems like I need that saying more than ever.  I wonder what her saying would be if someone is talking about you to you....  I'll have to ask.

Today, my husband reminded me that part of my journey through this whole weight loss/freeing my body and mind thing has to be letting go of what others say or do.  It also has to somehow change how I am effected by what people say or think about me; or more likely, what I think they are thinking/saying about me.  

I've made a lot of gains both mentally and physically, but I know that I still have a long way to go.  That is especially evident when I am caught off guard by something someone says.  You know that scene in Pretty Woman (1990), at the polo match where Phillip tells Vivian that he knows about her little secret and you can see Vivian's demeanor change?  She seems caught off guard, sick to her stomach, and betrayed.  Sometimes people say things that make me feel like Julia Roberts in that scene.  I feel abandoned and like I want to give up on everything and go back to the way things were a year ago.  It's confusing and frustrating at the same time and it always seems to break my heart.

Although I am working through all of my issues, I'm far from healed.  I have no idea how long it will take me to heal emotionally. Just because I wrote about an issue, doesn't mean it no longer exists -- I wish that were the case.  Likewise, just because I may seem fine on the outside, that doesn't mean that I'm not still fragile and shattered on the inside. 

As I work towards mending, I need to remember my mother's saying and what really matters in life.



**Tip #4 - If you don't respect yourself, no one else will.  Take time for you.  Put make-up on, fix your hair, do you nails, relax and enjoy the little things.  You're worth it.  


PS - I like Jamberry nail wraps, they last longer....