James and I are off to a BBQ-- and we are bringing fruit. Usually I bring chips, dip, cupcakes, cookies, etc-- but we are bringing fruit. It's hot, tomorrow we weigh in, and both of us want the scale to show that within 3 weeks we lost 5% of our body weight.
Smoking-- quitting. Monday. Have to. HAVE TO HAVE TO HAVE TO. On a good note, I went to the gym twice this week. Bad news, didn't really job search. This week, I promise.
Fill ins.
1. Turkey Meatballs and sauce make a quick and easy dinner.
2. (Some book written by the owner of Omega Institute about breakdowns that change people's lives) is the book I'm reading right now. ( I am terrible with titles)
3. July brings back memories of swimming at gramma's pool with my cousins, eating clam chowder for lunch and taking naps on the sticky carpet in our bathing suits while we watched Judge Wapner.
4. Cleaning the office was obvious.
5. They say if you tell your dreams to others, it puts an intention out there in the universe, and then you are compelled to put that dream into action. Your intentions create your world, so intend loudly, dream large and then follow through. Don't ever give up the dream.
6. Right now I'd like to think it over.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to BBQ with friends in LI, tomorrow my plans include WW and waking up late and Sunday, I want to make fresh blueberry pancakes and turkey sausage for breakfast!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Saturday Fill-in and Updates
James and I started WW. I lost 11 pounds. I'm happy and re-learning that all food is on-limits, and my pouch only holds so much. And that being out of work and home all day with a fridge is terrible for the waistline.
Cheese. Wine. I love you both. Time to moderate.
Fill-ins. Thanks for the push Rebel Saint.
1. The last thing I ate was a slice of pizza and a Mexican Shrimp salad.
2. Cigarettes is something I recently bought. (ooh, bad idea.)
3. When it rains, it must have been because I planned a party, because it always rains on my celebrations.
4. James was the first person I talked to today.
5. Hugs are delicious.
6.My hips are built for extra comfort.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to spending time with friends, tomorrow my plans include a picnic and beach time at a state park and Sunday, I want to lose 3 pounds at WW!
Cheese. Wine. I love you both. Time to moderate.
Fill-ins. Thanks for the push Rebel Saint.
1. The last thing I ate was a slice of pizza and a Mexican Shrimp salad.
2. Cigarettes is something I recently bought. (ooh, bad idea.)
3. When it rains, it must have been because I planned a party, because it always rains on my celebrations.
4. James was the first person I talked to today.
5. Hugs are delicious.
6.My hips are built for extra comfort.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to spending time with friends, tomorrow my plans include a picnic and beach time at a state park and Sunday, I want to lose 3 pounds at WW!
Monday, June 08, 2009
Monday begins anew
Yesterday was awesome. Backyard barbeque after a baptism, delicious charred meat and oodles of wine. Then home to sleep after watching the Tonys (or part of). Nice job.
Today I weigh 274.9.
Today I am doing a little clutter clearing-- I am playing a game called "A job by my birthday" which is June 14. This coming Sunday. Although there are a couple prospects, the real game is playing like I start work on June 15, and get bills and household stuff in order on my "last full week off". That way, there is nothing in the way after my birthday to find a job, interview or anything else that I might want to accomplish. No, "I really should do X".
What I would like is to create a position that would allow me to take a week before I started and head to CA to see family and friends. Take vacation, per se. Even the unemployed need some time away.
So, 274.9. That seems like a great number to start at. My new number. I am not running from it, I am running to health, vitality and peace. I am running towards unstoppable. I have a goal, 225 by Thanksgiving, which is 24 weeks away. A completely do-able goal. The bonus opportunity is that during this 24 week journey, I write at least once a week, journal 2 times a week and check in with myself every Monday morning as a temperature gauge. Other things that might help me along the way-- Weight Watchers/ OA/ Support Group/ Therapy.
Right now, I wear a woman's 18 at Kohl's (so 18W) and an X-Large shirt (a 1X fits a little looser from the plus department). My goal is to be entirely in the straight sizes by Thanksgiving-- a size 14 pant (not 14 W) and X-Large or L shirt. I want to purchase (or at least have the opportunity to purchase) a dress off the rack from Ann Taylor/ Banana Republic/ J Crew in a 14.
Just as a starting point. Thanks Mama of the Melts for the marathon anaology. That guy is in my city and I did my pre-op counselling with him. Its a reminder that going back to him would be a fantastic idea. It's a lifetime marathon-- there is not the room to sit on the sidelines and cheer, now is the time to get on the road and pound it out.
Much love.
Today I weigh 274.9.
Today I am doing a little clutter clearing-- I am playing a game called "A job by my birthday" which is June 14. This coming Sunday. Although there are a couple prospects, the real game is playing like I start work on June 15, and get bills and household stuff in order on my "last full week off". That way, there is nothing in the way after my birthday to find a job, interview or anything else that I might want to accomplish. No, "I really should do X".
What I would like is to create a position that would allow me to take a week before I started and head to CA to see family and friends. Take vacation, per se. Even the unemployed need some time away.
So, 274.9. That seems like a great number to start at. My new number. I am not running from it, I am running to health, vitality and peace. I am running towards unstoppable. I have a goal, 225 by Thanksgiving, which is 24 weeks away. A completely do-able goal. The bonus opportunity is that during this 24 week journey, I write at least once a week, journal 2 times a week and check in with myself every Monday morning as a temperature gauge. Other things that might help me along the way-- Weight Watchers/ OA/ Support Group/ Therapy.
Right now, I wear a woman's 18 at Kohl's (so 18W) and an X-Large shirt (a 1X fits a little looser from the plus department). My goal is to be entirely in the straight sizes by Thanksgiving-- a size 14 pant (not 14 W) and X-Large or L shirt. I want to purchase (or at least have the opportunity to purchase) a dress off the rack from Ann Taylor/ Banana Republic/ J Crew in a 14.
Just as a starting point. Thanks Mama of the Melts for the marathon anaology. That guy is in my city and I did my pre-op counselling with him. Its a reminder that going back to him would be a fantastic idea. It's a lifetime marathon-- there is not the room to sit on the sidelines and cheer, now is the time to get on the road and pound it out.
Much love.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Getting Unstuck
I took part of a very cool class over the weekend that I had done before (the Landmark Forum). I only took a part of it (which is not recommended) because I have some family obligations that I have to take care of, but the part that I needed some review with. Since 2002 I have been involved with Landmark, either coaching programs or being a participant in communications courses, the curriculum for living, seminars, etc. I can't say "it gave me my life" like some people do, but it really has given me a way to look at my life that has me be unstuck in all areas, if I choose to. This is the key.
So, there I am sitting in the Landmark Forum (which if you know, is a total feat for me. I hate being a participant, I hate the idea that for the next 3 days I am going to be sharing about my life with people I don't know, and then go out into my life and share with people I love about where I have been slimy or icky and then create something new. I like the creating something new, but I'd rather be a coach than a participant), and I am thinking about my life. Mainly about surgery, and the impact it has on me. From previous posts, you might understand that I have had it that I am stuck. Well here I am unsticking myself.
The what happened of my situation-- the bare bones-- is that I was grossly obese, 388 pounds at my highest (of record). I wore pants I had to order on the Internet, I lived in yoga pants and tank tops-- I had three pairs of the exact same stretchy work pants. I ate thousands of calories every day, smoked at least a pack a day, and delivery men knew who I was outside of deliveries (I once ran into a man in Manhattan who smiled and said "2R" which is my apartment number. I had no idea who he was until that night when I ordered a "snack" of a turkey sandwich, pint of ice cream and pack of cigarettes. Then I realized, he's my delivery guy from the deli.) I did not exercise except for the random yoga classes or treadmill adventures-- every now and again I would take walks. When I went to friend's places, I would sit in chairs with no arms and on sturdy furniture to make sure I wouldn't fall or break stuff. No one ever talked about my weight, except when I brought it up. I tried to diet, reducing calories, eating Atkins style, eating low fat, going on Weight Watchers-- and was usually great for a couple weeks. Then I would get some success, and then go back to old habits one by one.
My mom had surgery in 2007 in Jan. She was a different person, she lost so much weight and became my beautiful little mommy. I wanted that. I quit smoking in Jan 2007, and then had surgery Aug 2007. I lost 80 pounds by Christmas, and by June of 2008 I had lost 126 pounds. And then I met James and have been in an amazing intimate long term relationship for over a year. The first one of my life.
Just prior to meeting him, I smoked in Mexico and came back with that habit. And he smoked-- so it was okay for me to do that. And he's a bit of a big guy, so eating a little more was okay-- he likes curvy and soft. And for a year I haven't lost a pound. In fact, I have gained 10.
"But my body's changing and I look thinner!SO.
"But I am happier and have a boyfriend!" SO
"But I exercise more and am more active!" SO
I learned that I don't dump on sugar or fat, I can eat a waffle with syrup and butter and have a loaf of bread on the side with no issue except sleepy-- very sleepy. I can eat ice cream cones and strawberry jam and frosty's and milkshakes and cheeseburgers with buns and fries with ranch and and and and and......
I can do exactly what I did before and expect to get a different result. Ummm, that is the definition of insanity.
So here I am, sitting in that room, looking at myself. Coming clean. NO EXCUSES. Nothing is bad, nothing is wrong, it just is what it is. I realize (like past posts) that I am so afraid of going all out and failing that instead I put up insipid roadblocks to lose. Because if I went all out and failed, I would be devastated (what would others think of me), and I would have proof that I am not worth it and a failure. But with these roadblocks (one ice cream won't hurt, it's a small fry, only a glass of wine) plus lack of exercise (too busy, depressed, the gym will be too crowded) I am effectively committed to being overweight.
Committed, you say--- well yes. Look at what you have in your life, and that's what you are committed to. I say I want to be healthy, and yet, I buy cookies and don't exercise. I say I want to be an athlete, and yet I am the Olympic champion of Law and Order watching.
Nothing is bad, nothing is wrong, it just is what it is. I am still relating to myself as the six year old girl who's brother got fruit pies in his lunch when she got fruit. I am still letting that 6 year old run my life every time I let myself have a cookie or talk myself into a dessert or a bag of fries.
I have no plan, no regime, other than possibility. I am the possibility of being unstoppable. Nothing gets in my way, and if I stop myself, i remember what I am committed to.
And my committment.....
I am still working on that one. I know it has something to do with health, fitness, vitality, coaching, inspiration and getting what you want from life, but am still in the inquiry. For today, I am committed to living powerully and honoring my body and mind as the gifts that they are.
Unstuck-- yup. Today is a bright sunshiney day.
So, there I am sitting in the Landmark Forum (which if you know, is a total feat for me. I hate being a participant, I hate the idea that for the next 3 days I am going to be sharing about my life with people I don't know, and then go out into my life and share with people I love about where I have been slimy or icky and then create something new. I like the creating something new, but I'd rather be a coach than a participant), and I am thinking about my life. Mainly about surgery, and the impact it has on me. From previous posts, you might understand that I have had it that I am stuck. Well here I am unsticking myself.
The what happened of my situation-- the bare bones-- is that I was grossly obese, 388 pounds at my highest (of record). I wore pants I had to order on the Internet, I lived in yoga pants and tank tops-- I had three pairs of the exact same stretchy work pants. I ate thousands of calories every day, smoked at least a pack a day, and delivery men knew who I was outside of deliveries (I once ran into a man in Manhattan who smiled and said "2R" which is my apartment number. I had no idea who he was until that night when I ordered a "snack" of a turkey sandwich, pint of ice cream and pack of cigarettes. Then I realized, he's my delivery guy from the deli.) I did not exercise except for the random yoga classes or treadmill adventures-- every now and again I would take walks. When I went to friend's places, I would sit in chairs with no arms and on sturdy furniture to make sure I wouldn't fall or break stuff. No one ever talked about my weight, except when I brought it up. I tried to diet, reducing calories, eating Atkins style, eating low fat, going on Weight Watchers-- and was usually great for a couple weeks. Then I would get some success, and then go back to old habits one by one.
My mom had surgery in 2007 in Jan. She was a different person, she lost so much weight and became my beautiful little mommy. I wanted that. I quit smoking in Jan 2007, and then had surgery Aug 2007. I lost 80 pounds by Christmas, and by June of 2008 I had lost 126 pounds. And then I met James and have been in an amazing intimate long term relationship for over a year. The first one of my life.
Just prior to meeting him, I smoked in Mexico and came back with that habit. And he smoked-- so it was okay for me to do that. And he's a bit of a big guy, so eating a little more was okay-- he likes curvy and soft. And for a year I haven't lost a pound. In fact, I have gained 10.
"But my body's changing and I look thinner!SO.
"But I am happier and have a boyfriend!" SO
"But I exercise more and am more active!" SO
I learned that I don't dump on sugar or fat, I can eat a waffle with syrup and butter and have a loaf of bread on the side with no issue except sleepy-- very sleepy. I can eat ice cream cones and strawberry jam and frosty's and milkshakes and cheeseburgers with buns and fries with ranch and and and and and......
I can do exactly what I did before and expect to get a different result. Ummm, that is the definition of insanity.
So here I am, sitting in that room, looking at myself. Coming clean. NO EXCUSES. Nothing is bad, nothing is wrong, it just is what it is. I realize (like past posts) that I am so afraid of going all out and failing that instead I put up insipid roadblocks to lose. Because if I went all out and failed, I would be devastated (what would others think of me), and I would have proof that I am not worth it and a failure. But with these roadblocks (one ice cream won't hurt, it's a small fry, only a glass of wine) plus lack of exercise (too busy, depressed, the gym will be too crowded) I am effectively committed to being overweight.
Committed, you say--- well yes. Look at what you have in your life, and that's what you are committed to. I say I want to be healthy, and yet, I buy cookies and don't exercise. I say I want to be an athlete, and yet I am the Olympic champion of Law and Order watching.
Nothing is bad, nothing is wrong, it just is what it is. I am still relating to myself as the six year old girl who's brother got fruit pies in his lunch when she got fruit. I am still letting that 6 year old run my life every time I let myself have a cookie or talk myself into a dessert or a bag of fries.
I have no plan, no regime, other than possibility. I am the possibility of being unstoppable. Nothing gets in my way, and if I stop myself, i remember what I am committed to.
And my committment.....
I am still working on that one. I know it has something to do with health, fitness, vitality, coaching, inspiration and getting what you want from life, but am still in the inquiry. For today, I am committed to living powerully and honoring my body and mind as the gifts that they are.
Unstuck-- yup. Today is a bright sunshiney day.
Friday, May 22, 2009
I know why I am stuck
For those of you that have been following me for a while, you might remember Maddie.
I wrote about her before surgery. I wrote about her being 130 pound weight that I was saying goodbye to. Today I re-visited her and her story, and realized I am at the 130 pound mark of weight loss (or thereabouts). My skin is flabby and I feel deflated. And yet I have never felt more vulnerable, emotional, raw and surprisingly..... strong. Brave in fact.
I realize what I haven't done and what I need to do. Maddie was all past, there was no future written about her. She lived in-between binges and pushed emotions down with food (and as she got older, drugs, alcohol and cigarettes. Mostly cigarettes.), and kept people away with her growing girth and snark. She is something I haven't said goodbye to yet, I keep thinking I have, until I have a particularly emotional conversation, and then, there she is, ready to eat an ice cream, take a swig of maple syrup, or devour a pizza (in small measured bites over the course of a day). She can't hide behind smoking (although she really really wants to) and she's tried the alcohol route and found it, well, lacking.
I now get to create Maddie's future. My future. Fuck calling her Maddie-- she's me, I'm her, I get to create my future. Everything is so wide open for me right now-- I have no job, my boyfriend is moving in this weekend, I have a little bit of money in the bank, and I have all the free time in the world...... to create a future.
So, getting back to my point, I know why I am stuck. I am stuck because I never believed it possible to lose 200 pounds. I never gave myself the chance to really go for it all the way. I keep testing it out-- a little sugar here, a little more cheese there, some wine, something to drink with dinner-- all of these things little roadblocks to keep me in check. To keep me from "hurting" myself. Because if I fail at losing 200 pounds, then I will be so devastated, I will really be able to prove to myself I am an entire failure. So these little roadblocks go up as a way to slow me down, "don't get ahead of yourself", and to keep me from the real disappointment. Because I can say right now I haven't done everything it takes to make this surgery and lifestyle a success, I've done "enough" but haven't put my all into it.
It's like this-- my fear comes from a place that says "Hold back because if you really put it all on the line, you might get disappointed. And then you will prove to everyone else that you can't do it." And then the entire makeup of who I am, my facade will fall apart, and people will finally see that I am not superhuman, but in fact just human with faults and vulnerabilities and failures.
I'm thinking about a conversation that touched me so much last night. "You did good work and that's what you should be proud of." Or at least that's what I heard. It touched me because it was validation for the work I accomplished, the role I was, the identity I created. February 2nd that got stripped away from me, and now I realize this is just another way to get to who I am. I am not my job, I am not my surgery, I am not my weight.
Let me repeat that in a different way, I am not what I identify myself with. Surgery, weight, failure, success, job, title, class, money, ability, etc. All that can be stripped away. What's left is who I am.
Now here's the fun part-- who is that? If I cannot identify myself with things outside myself, who am I?
It seems too much to manage right now, but to be honest, it's a great place to start again. To begin something extraordinary. I say "that is past, now to move forward."
Maddie's gone physically. I don't feel her around my waist, clutching me, anymore. She's holding onto various other parts of me, but I can entangle myself. I can honor her for what she has done for me, but she, in essence, has been reduced in force. It has nothing to do with her job performance, but instead her position of protector and stuffer down of feelings has been eliminated.
I feel super free right now. And I have not smoked in 10 days. And I am being sad and weepy and allowing that to happen. No stuffing anything down.
Begin again, it's a beautiful place to be. I get to choose to keep roadblocking myself, or I choose something different. I'm in the inquiry right now.
Again, a beautiful pl
ace to be.
I wrote about her before surgery. I wrote about her being 130 pound weight that I was saying goodbye to. Today I re-visited her and her story, and realized I am at the 130 pound mark of weight loss (or thereabouts). My skin is flabby and I feel deflated. And yet I have never felt more vulnerable, emotional, raw and surprisingly..... strong. Brave in fact.
I realize what I haven't done and what I need to do. Maddie was all past, there was no future written about her. She lived in-between binges and pushed emotions down with food (and as she got older, drugs, alcohol and cigarettes. Mostly cigarettes.), and kept people away with her growing girth and snark. She is something I haven't said goodbye to yet, I keep thinking I have, until I have a particularly emotional conversation, and then, there she is, ready to eat an ice cream, take a swig of maple syrup, or devour a pizza (in small measured bites over the course of a day). She can't hide behind smoking (although she really really wants to) and she's tried the alcohol route and found it, well, lacking.
I now get to create Maddie's future. My future. Fuck calling her Maddie-- she's me, I'm her, I get to create my future. Everything is so wide open for me right now-- I have no job, my boyfriend is moving in this weekend, I have a little bit of money in the bank, and I have all the free time in the world...... to create a future.
So, getting back to my point, I know why I am stuck. I am stuck because I never believed it possible to lose 200 pounds. I never gave myself the chance to really go for it all the way. I keep testing it out-- a little sugar here, a little more cheese there, some wine, something to drink with dinner-- all of these things little roadblocks to keep me in check. To keep me from "hurting" myself. Because if I fail at losing 200 pounds, then I will be so devastated, I will really be able to prove to myself I am an entire failure. So these little roadblocks go up as a way to slow me down, "don't get ahead of yourself", and to keep me from the real disappointment. Because I can say right now I haven't done everything it takes to make this surgery and lifestyle a success, I've done "enough" but haven't put my all into it.
It's like this-- my fear comes from a place that says "Hold back because if you really put it all on the line, you might get disappointed. And then you will prove to everyone else that you can't do it." And then the entire makeup of who I am, my facade will fall apart, and people will finally see that I am not superhuman, but in fact just human with faults and vulnerabilities and failures.
I'm thinking about a conversation that touched me so much last night. "You did good work and that's what you should be proud of." Or at least that's what I heard. It touched me because it was validation for the work I accomplished, the role I was, the identity I created. February 2nd that got stripped away from me, and now I realize this is just another way to get to who I am. I am not my job, I am not my surgery, I am not my weight.
Let me repeat that in a different way, I am not what I identify myself with. Surgery, weight, failure, success, job, title, class, money, ability, etc. All that can be stripped away. What's left is who I am.
Now here's the fun part-- who is that? If I cannot identify myself with things outside myself, who am I?
It seems too much to manage right now, but to be honest, it's a great place to start again. To begin something extraordinary. I say "that is past, now to move forward."
Maddie's gone physically. I don't feel her around my waist, clutching me, anymore. She's holding onto various other parts of me, but I can entangle myself. I can honor her for what she has done for me, but she, in essence, has been reduced in force. It has nothing to do with her job performance, but instead her position of protector and stuffer down of feelings has been eliminated.
I feel super free right now. And I have not smoked in 10 days. And I am being sad and weepy and allowing that to happen. No stuffing anything down.
Begin again, it's a beautiful place to be. I get to choose to keep roadblocking myself, or I choose something different. I'm in the inquiry right now.
Again, a beautiful pl
ace to be.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
After the Dentist.....
So after the dentist (which really did nothing) I went into St. Patrick's Cathedral and sat. I had a couple of hours to kill, and being in a very beautiful almost quiet place might just be the place to calm my blues and have me get to the bottom of the blues.
I sat. I prayed. I prayed. I always talk to God in some unorganized way, I believe that organized religion is worthwhile for those that find it worthwhile, much like the biking (hiking, camping, singing, theater, BDSM, kite-flying, vegan, recovery, etc etc) community is worthwhile for those that find it worthwhile. I am not against nor for. My spirituality is uncovered in the shades of gray (grey?) that is between cake or death.
So I am sitting there talking to God. Pouring my little heart out.
"Why me, why did I have to lose my fabulous "I love my job" job? Why did you give me everything and then take it away? Why can't I find anything that I love as much, why am I sitting on a pew in a church with tourists swarming around me taking pictures, bawling.
Why does this keep happening to me, I find something extraordinary and then I lose it? This has to be my fault, right? How come I just didn't get along with that woman and suck it up, why didn't I play the political game and make friends and make nice with that other guy and jockey for a better position. Why did I have to be so sure of myself, why did I have to be so snarky.
I MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG, I AM BAD!!! THIS IS MY PUNISHMENT!
I know this is my fault, I did something wrong and my dream job got taken away and it's gone forever and it's never coming back and I am going to have to find something to pay the bills and I am scared that I won't get recognized for the good work that I do, and I am so so scared that James and I are not going to make it financially because he is so scared of trying to find something with his passion and it's taking everything I have to support him emotionally so that he can get up and move in here already and I am just so tired and so exhausted and I can't even eat to shove this all down, I can't drink and I quit smoking. "
(bawling bawling, snotting crying, more why me's and finally, like a baby that cries themself calm, I sat. Sat for a hour. Just sitting, thinking, smelling the incense, rage-less against the world, taking in the sounds of people and marble floors and the cool cool of the Church. And calmed down. And said thank you)
"So I know you must have some delicious master plan that I am not privy to at this point but really, God, I love you and thank you for my health and my family and showing me that miracles do happen and confidence comes from self, not from others. But if you could just show me a sign of some sort that would have me know that I'll be okay and I'll get through this, I'd really appreciate it."
Upon leaving Church, having calmed down considerably, I tooled around before visiting a friend after work. I called my mom--the woman who two days after my layoff said "you might want to consider taking things you wouldn't normally take" and that "I can put you on my payroll again". I know she means well, but her words come at me and linger with me like little teeny tiny knives, and she has no idea that she's doing it. She says I am too sensitive, I say that I am human and don't think being mean is the same as being funny-- just because it makes you laugh it is not humor.
I don't know why I reached out to her, except I was sitting at a fountain in Rockefeller center wanting to smoke but not going to-- and I needed my mommy because I was about to cry again. At first she said "Don't be sad" but after I explained that I have nothing that will help me hold this down and it's just coming up-- she said-- cry all you want, baby. It's okay. You are going to be just fine, you'll find something better and it will be the next adventure."
She gave me permission to mourn. Actually encouraged me to mourn, to be sad, to get away for a couple days, to just be. That's my sign. My mom gave me that sign. She said "You have been trying to be brave and you just need some time away to regroup to be sad. You have to or else it's going to eat you up inside."
So, I am mourning-- full out crying and snotting and sad and angry and everything mourning. I loved loved loved my job, so I am sure there will be posts about it in the future. And yes, I have so many things to be thankful for, so I am going to do my best to be thankful and joyous for the things I do have, and contemplate on the things I don't, and grieve the things I have lost. And one day soon, I will pick myself up and dust myself off and say ENOUGH and begin again.
Until then, I am going to snot and cry over here.
I sat. I prayed. I prayed. I always talk to God in some unorganized way, I believe that organized religion is worthwhile for those that find it worthwhile, much like the biking (hiking, camping, singing, theater, BDSM, kite-flying, vegan, recovery, etc etc) community is worthwhile for those that find it worthwhile. I am not against nor for. My spirituality is uncovered in the shades of gray (grey?) that is between cake or death.
So I am sitting there talking to God. Pouring my little heart out.
"Why me, why did I have to lose my fabulous "I love my job" job? Why did you give me everything and then take it away? Why can't I find anything that I love as much, why am I sitting on a pew in a church with tourists swarming around me taking pictures, bawling.
Why does this keep happening to me, I find something extraordinary and then I lose it? This has to be my fault, right? How come I just didn't get along with that woman and suck it up, why didn't I play the political game and make friends and make nice with that other guy and jockey for a better position. Why did I have to be so sure of myself, why did I have to be so snarky.
I MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG, I AM BAD!!! THIS IS MY PUNISHMENT!
I know this is my fault, I did something wrong and my dream job got taken away and it's gone forever and it's never coming back and I am going to have to find something to pay the bills and I am scared that I won't get recognized for the good work that I do, and I am so so scared that James and I are not going to make it financially because he is so scared of trying to find something with his passion and it's taking everything I have to support him emotionally so that he can get up and move in here already and I am just so tired and so exhausted and I can't even eat to shove this all down, I can't drink and I quit smoking. "
(bawling bawling, snotting crying, more why me's and finally, like a baby that cries themself calm, I sat. Sat for a hour. Just sitting, thinking, smelling the incense, rage-less against the world, taking in the sounds of people and marble floors and the cool cool of the Church. And calmed down. And said thank you)
"So I know you must have some delicious master plan that I am not privy to at this point but really, God, I love you and thank you for my health and my family and showing me that miracles do happen and confidence comes from self, not from others. But if you could just show me a sign of some sort that would have me know that I'll be okay and I'll get through this, I'd really appreciate it."
Upon leaving Church, having calmed down considerably, I tooled around before visiting a friend after work. I called my mom--the woman who two days after my layoff said "you might want to consider taking things you wouldn't normally take" and that "I can put you on my payroll again". I know she means well, but her words come at me and linger with me like little teeny tiny knives, and she has no idea that she's doing it. She says I am too sensitive, I say that I am human and don't think being mean is the same as being funny-- just because it makes you laugh it is not humor.
I don't know why I reached out to her, except I was sitting at a fountain in Rockefeller center wanting to smoke but not going to-- and I needed my mommy because I was about to cry again. At first she said "Don't be sad" but after I explained that I have nothing that will help me hold this down and it's just coming up-- she said-- cry all you want, baby. It's okay. You are going to be just fine, you'll find something better and it will be the next adventure."
She gave me permission to mourn. Actually encouraged me to mourn, to be sad, to get away for a couple days, to just be. That's my sign. My mom gave me that sign. She said "You have been trying to be brave and you just need some time away to regroup to be sad. You have to or else it's going to eat you up inside."
So, I am mourning-- full out crying and snotting and sad and angry and everything mourning. I loved loved loved my job, so I am sure there will be posts about it in the future. And yes, I have so many things to be thankful for, so I am going to do my best to be thankful and joyous for the things I do have, and contemplate on the things I don't, and grieve the things I have lost. And one day soon, I will pick myself up and dust myself off and say ENOUGH and begin again.
Until then, I am going to snot and cry over here.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Blue
I'm blue today. On the verge of tears. Nothing seems to be helping.
Maybe it's the dentist appointment that I have in an hour. That's probably it.
More later-- Just blue. I'm allowed, right? I don't have to always smile, right? I don't have to always look on the bright side, I mean, people do have shitty days, and maybe today is one of them.
Oh, and I quit smoking yesterday. So blue and angry and de-carbing. By the end of the week I'll have a whole new perspective, possibly even a sunny disposition, but for now, blue. And angry.
And bored. And confused, and upset and concerned and overwhelmed and underwhelmed and sad and tired and and and.....
but mostly blue.
Maybe it's the dentist appointment that I have in an hour. That's probably it.
More later-- Just blue. I'm allowed, right? I don't have to always smile, right? I don't have to always look on the bright side, I mean, people do have shitty days, and maybe today is one of them.
Oh, and I quit smoking yesterday. So blue and angry and de-carbing. By the end of the week I'll have a whole new perspective, possibly even a sunny disposition, but for now, blue. And angry.
And bored. And confused, and upset and concerned and overwhelmed and underwhelmed and sad and tired and and and.....
but mostly blue.
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