Life and Junk and Stuff

It's interesting how life changes. And so quickly too!

Today, 7 months pregnant. With another little big girl in a big city. Feeling incredibly healthy, albeit tired and a bit cranky, but in love.

In love with this new life I've created. James and I are stupidly and happily married and nesting, we may not always see eye to eye on everything, but we work through it together. Getting ready for our little girl to make her way into the world.

Life ain't bad.

Life changed

Married.

Yup, married.

10.30.10 in a beautiful church in Long Island, we said I do to each other and to living our lives together. Forever.

I realize so many things along the way.... who I am vs. who I was. I finally feel like I am living the life I was meant to live. I am healthy, I am happy (because, c'mon people, it's a choice), I am employed (full time as of June 1), and my family grew all in one day-- just by saying I do, I now have 34 new family members with brothers, sisters, neices and nephews.

The wedding was glorious. Every day should be so smooth.

One thing I realized is how important it is to blog. TO let people in on my life. For the two years I was consistent with writing, when I was going through the weight loss and the start of a new life, I was connected. I was able to be open and honest with everything that was going on. Now, I like to keep the truly special moments private. Between me and my beloved. I want the connection to him, but realize that others may need to know how to transition from "omigod I am losing weight/hair/ sizes/ friends" to "this tool is awesome and sometimes I use it for evil and not good".

People need to know about what happens year 3-7, when life happens and isn't all about the weightloss/ plastic surgery/ nasty protein shakes/ gym routines. When life takes on a new path, with new jobs, new living arrangements, new additions (god willing) and new habits.

I haven't quite decided what to do. This blog will always stay up. For newer folks, look back in June of 2007 and then go forward. That is the start of the journey, mind and body becoming more svelte. All the worries. All the questions. All the stuff that goes along with being a patient with no patience. Then see how life changes. Because life does come back, and you realize that you have had a great gift bestowed on you to make changes that will impact the rest of your life. But it happens slower, more fluid.

I'll post again. I'll write again, and will invite you along for the journey. It might not be for a while, and I am not entirely certain how, but I know I want to capture all that is rattling around in my brain.

I've missed you Big Girl, Big City. You were a very good friend and I've abandoned you. Although, still a big girl, I also realize I am much more than that. Big city, soon to leave but always close by. Thank you for being me, but I've come to realize you too were a persona. The me that is real underneath it all is quite sensitive, calm and is very very happy to not be travelling the world. Who loves coming home, cooking dinner, and spending the evening just getting house stuff done. Who is in love with someone who loves her more than she ever thought possible. Who is thinking of a future that is somewhat pickett fence crossed with intellectual pursuits.

I've also missed my connection to the community. My new job hasn't allowed for much surfing, so I've just recently started looking at old friends sites. I've always been a bit of a lurker...... so watch out.

Love--

Kim

What's Going On?

Hi there.

Remember me? Yeah, I'm the loud funny one in the back of the room that's been quiet for a while.

Here's a short update:

1) Plateau. Up and down. Hovering around a 110-120 pound weight loss
2) Beating myself up for it, should be more, should be more.
2a) Pursuant to 2-- Started enjoying way too much of the red vino.
3) Gain of 10 pounds.
4) PANIC.
5) Found and started new contract position paying almost a lot more than last position and make the exact same amount in a week on unemployment as I do in a day.
6) Red Vino, still bad.
7) Oh, quit smoking cold turkey.
8) Lost 9 pounds on Weight Watchers.
9) Still going to WW-- and to be honest, learning how to eat. How to be responsible with my food and track it all.
10) Going back to exercise as stress relief. This is an in progress. I haven't quite figured out a time that will work and so I keep plugging away.
11) Stopped blogging-- no reason. Also stopped Facebooking, emailing, myspacing and any other social media.

So there it is. 2+ years out of surgery and now is when I have to begin to use my pouch as a tool, not a crutch. When I have to make the choices to say yes to things that work for me-- protein-- and no to things that don't -- rice, bottles of wine, etc.

Small changes every day are making a difference. Saying no to the Thursday morning bagel and yes to hard boiled eggs seems to be working. Saying yes to fruit and no to massive amounts of bread feels good. My folks are on WW as well. My pop has lost 35 pounds, my mom has dropped about 20, James has lost 25, and me, well, I've lost 9. I could really beat myself up for it, but that just gets old.

I'm celebrating the victory of being a non-smoker. I'm celebrating the victory of being able to fit into clothes I have had for over two years. And I am celebrating the victory of being on the journey with eyes open. Because I could be committed to the struggle the drama the chaos. But instead, i'll be addicted to the changes to my life.

There is no finish line. Well, unless you count the big giant one in the sky. But even then, no not really.

Happy Day, Every Day

Today is Dr. Seuss' birthday. For a man that loved the extraordinary and looking at life through an upside down telescope, I re-type my favorite quote of all time.

"You know when you are in love
when you can't fall asleep
because reality is finally better than your dreams."

Ahh. I love that. Years ago I was desperately in love with a man who had no idea who I was. And I would write him poems and love songs, of course never actually presenting them to him, but writing them nonetheless. And in one of the poems I wrote about "falling asleep so we can be together" because I knew that the only place he and I would be together would be in my dreams.

The nice thing about unrequited love is that it has the same kind of emotional consistency as a spider bite. Some are allergic, and wow, there's lots of drama and wound tending and healing happening. It hurts, it's annoying, you garner sympathy for your sick state, and it seems like it will never heal. For others, it's a nasty little bump that itches and scabs over, and one day when you are out busy living your life, you remember that you have a spider bite and go looking for it, and it's no longer there. Or maybe it was on the other arm. Or perhaps it was just an ingrown hair. And you move on with your day, with that bite a faint memory.

I've had lots of spider bites in my time. Mostly just little annoying things that I get over when I am out living my life and decide to get up on any certain day and face reality. That this relationship isn't going anywhere, and although it's not made up in my head, it isn't what I have in my head-- it's more like a very close friendship that at times is awkwardly romantic, sexual, inappropriate, etc. Then I just stop obsessing or whatever I am doing (listening to ELO, watching Big Love, reading everything on astral projection, or any such nonsense that reminds me of said target of unrequited-ness). And I go out and live my life.

At some point after WLS I decided that I didn't want to let this time go by without sharing it with someone. I had spent a ton of time in reflection, by myself, in awesome hotels rooms around the world without anyone to call. Or text. Or even think of. For so long I kept that weight as a way to keep me away from people, a blanket of "go away" along with a smoke-screen of "no really, get out of here"-- all the while hoping that someone would see this rough diamond and call me his own.

So WLS ripped part of my blanket away, and I got out there and dated. And decided that being alone wasn't an option-- I wanted someone to share my life with. The good, the ugly, the confusing, the snotting and crying, the past the present and most definitely the future. I dated a couple different men, and although interesting, no connection that would be considered more than a spider bite.

Not that James was a knight in shining armor. I mean, let's face it-- he was in his mid-thirties, still living with his folks (and two younger brothers) and had worked at the same place his whole life. He had only traveled to Canada (before passports were necessary), thinks an expensive meal includes a beer that is more than $6.50, owns two suits, one pair of khakis, 18 pairs of light colored jeans, 4 pairs of white sneakers and one pair of big boy dress shoes that are a little uncomfortable. He can never explain what it is I do, even though I tell him all the time, and he is quiet and reserved to my loud and "hi, who are you".

Not a spider bite.

I'm not really sure where I am going with this post other than to proclaim that I have a really hard time falling asleep, because reality is better than my dreams. But I sleep best nuzzled in together with James, and I wake up best next to him.

And, thank you Dr. Seuss.

Almost a year

It's been almost a year since I was laid off.

I am having some sad days. Thinking about the grief I did not let myself feel, and then felt for months.

I spend a lot of time indoors, I mostly don't leave the apartment. Except to go to the grocery or the gym. The weekends are better, James is around and I love him so very much.

Life will get better, this I know. My life is more than losing weight, writing about losing weight, finding a job, writing about finding a job. I know it's just so much more than that.

I am totally going to have a pity party today. I deserve it. And then, gym tonight, work it out hard, then tomorrow face the day that my work life came to a sudden and abrupt halt. And I know things will get better. But for today, pity party. I may even watch terms of endearment or something equally as sad and tearful.

Just going to let out the tears, let out the sad, get mad, break something, feel the rage and then breathe through it.

Almost a year. My how life has changed.

A month between postings

This past month has been ups and downs. First the downs:

1) Still unemployed: it will be 1 year Feb 3.
2) Weight goes up and down in the 5-10 pound range. I am no longer WLS losing. I am now on the lifetime plan of losing and maintaining a loss of about 120 pounds. I would like to lose about 70 more pounds.
3) Serious indication of red-wine transfer addiction.
4) Smoking now. Had quit for over a month, and then right back.

Ups:
1) James proposed on Christmas with my grandma's wedding ring. I said yes.
2) Doing weight watchers with James. Now there is a bit of an end date in sight, and we collectively lost 8 pounds this week. We feel good. We have a winning outcome.
3) Created a vision and mission statement for my life. It was like a weight was lifted off me-- I now know what it is that I want to create in the world, and how I can accomplish it.
4) Re-energized on the job front.
5) Connecting with the spiritual side o f me. I love it.
6) Becoming a non-smoker by week's end.
7) Cobra paid for (thanks Obama) for another couple months. YAY!!!
8) Clean house, due to party on the 2nd. We threw out stuff and donated stuff and felt really really good about it.
9) Trusting in the man upstairs and myself. It has created a lot of peace.
10) Drinking much less. Red wine is not allowed in the house (if it's here, it will be GONE in a matter of hours). Since Jan 2 have had three glasses. Rather than the bottle a night.

As you can see, many more ups than downs. Yay me, I come out ahead.

As James and I were doing laundry last night, I realized something so important. This past year I have connected to so many people from a heart space, asking for what I need, not necessarily what I want. I have made decisions and choices that have given me time to understand my actions of past years. I've learned so many things about myself.

1) I am a great cook. I love to food shop and create wholesome meals.
2) I don't mind doing laundry, I just hate folding at the laundromat. So now, we bring it home and fold.
3) I have spent a lot of time connecting to James, my folks, my family and friends. All things I couldn't have done if I had that job where I traveled all the time.
4) There is a certain amount of peace in daydreaming, slowing down the pace of life, and being a good person. I had my priorities in making money, spending money, and talking about all the far-off places I've been.
5) I have so many great stories. I am working on the outlet to make them into something-- writing, art, movies, handbooks, poems, etc. I'm not committing to one thing, it's all and nothing at the same time.
6) I've missed out singing with the radio. At some point I got really serious. And now, my serious has given way to silly.
7) I can easily be swayed by opinion. Now I stay with mine, and there is no swaying.

I've got a wedding to plan for the fall. So far, so good.

I'm not sure how often I'll post. I've used this blog to get rid of so many demons per and post surgery. Now I am just Kim-- not fat kim, not skinny Kim, just Kim. If I never lose another pound, can I chose happiness? I think so.

WLS is a struggle. First with insurance and doctors and whatnot. Then struggling with yourself and feelings. Then with the "it's never enough" stuff that comes up. All I have is right now. And right now I want things to change, so I'll make small changes (no red wine, one special treat a week, take care of myself through exercise, no sodium Saturdays) not sweeping changes. And perhaps, just perhaps, one small change will make a difference.

I think back to when James and I met. I was a little burned from the last guy I was with, took a couple months off, and then just started looking again. I dated anyone that looked interesting, saying to myself a date is just that-- a meeting with someone to determine if you want to get to know them more. Not a big deal, just a meeting. When we met, we were relaxed with each other, and got to get to know each other. Neither one was looking to hook up, just talk over coffee and brunch. And that's what we did.

That little change-- from "is he the one" to "do I want to get to know him more" made the difference.
So if that's true-- with my health and fitness and weight I can go from "it's not enough" to "what will make me happy three hours from now". Sometimes it's sleep, sometimes it's a walk, sometimes it's eating a great lunch with protein and veggies. It's usually not a donut or ice cream or a pizza or sitting on the couch watching Law and Order. But it might be on some days.

Having this surgery made me realize that I crave gentleness in my life. I want to treat myself like I treat others, with kindness, respect, generosity, giving them the benefit of the doubt, and inspiration. Journey not desitnation. Long haul, not a sprint. Living in the present, accepting the past, and creating a new future.

Happy 2010. Begin again.

A calling

Last weekend James drove me up to Kripalu-- a retreat center. For two days I did yoga, went inward, quit smoking, ceased drinking, and learned about being resilient and answering my calling.

A calling, what is that?

Looking at my life I have had many mile markers along the way of who I am at my core. There have been friends that are no longer in my life that have pushed me into recognizing my gifts and talents. There are friends now that acknowledge my greatness and just want the best for me. I have a ton of people to support me, even though I have been feeling I just don't know what it is I want to ask for. There are things that I have always been attracted to that give me some direction on who I am at the center of myself.

Losing a job, most specifically this one, was and is devastating. And then to move into a space of 'I'll show them' and begin to look for something without taking any time to reflect was not a good idea. At all. And then spending spurts and fits of trying to distinguish what I could do, rather than create what I want to and can do, was fruitless.

This past weekend I got to grieve the loss of a dream job. And I got to accept that thing change and the universe always has signs up, it's just up to me to notice them. I also got to walk a labyrinth-- one of my favorite things to do.

It was snowy, the path was unclear. I was trying to remember how it should go (kinda like trying to find a job without reflection), but felt that even if I was on the wrong path (which I was) I should follow the person in front of me and not make waves. (Just like my last job, don't make waves when the new person comes in, just follow along.) I take a step and think "Courage" and then another step "wisdom". Wisdom, courage, over and over again.

My thoughts drift. The person in front of me is going to slow, leading us in the wrong direction. i should have gone first. I see an opportunity to jump the path and start again, and do. "I guess I have to do it over again" comes up-- that's fine, I can learn more the second time around. I enjoy this walk, no one behind me pushing me along, no one in front of me, just wandering. Fear 'I am never going to get to the middle. It's not leading me to the middle. I can't there, what if I never get there. Should I give up now?'

Take a step- courage, take another step- wisdom. Why do you think you have to follow some path, just because everyone else does, to get you to the middle? Just get there.
I got there, and the middle was quiet. I asked my question, and got my answer along the journey.

Create your own path.
Learn from your mistakes.
Trust your gut.
Take the lead.
Enjoy the journey, but know that yours is unique and no one elses'.

I looked up. Thank you God. Thank you universe. Thank you for having me be unplugged for three days, uncovering what I love to do, recognizing the good in myself that is having me move forward in this life. Bless this journey. There is no where to get to, Just look at the signs, answer the calling.

I have been smoke free for a week. I have been alcohol free for a week. I have turned down drinks, went to a bar and got diet coke. I am not my addictions. I went to WW this morning and although I am up 2 pounds over two months ago, I am working the program. And I am on my way.

30 day challenge-- I was diligent for 6 days, took one day off, then great for two, then a lug for three. Now, back on track. I am not my addictions.

Back to life, back to reality......

Remember who I was

Last night I was looking at pictures of myself. Actually it was yesterday afternoon, just prior to getting my haircut because I wanted the same bangs I had years ago.

Looking at my round face surprised me. It was odd to see a different me than the one I have gotten used to over the last year. I can say now that I can see the difference, and I am different now than I was then.

I looked at her, she was brave, but sad. Lonely. Now, not so sad and lonely. Just anxious.

Anxious about gaining weight, becoming an alcoholic, being someone who can't help but sabotage themselves at every step. Anxious about what's next, not knowing, not being able to create the life I want.

Before, I could blame it on weight. Now, I can't. I mean, I can, I am still (what seems like eons) away from a goal weight that resides in the range of low overweight or "normal". I still have 70+ pounds to lose before a hard and fast sheet of paper can declare me "normal". As in normal BMI. I understand, I am tall, and have pounds of excess skin that could be a factor, but wen it is all said and done, at least 60 pounds have got to peel off before I can consider myself victorious.

So yeah, I guess I can still blame it on weight. But I don't. Now it is clear to me that the person I used to be was a little more resilient to anxiety. She ate it away, and did whatever she had to so she could have the life she wanted. Or what she thought she "could" have. So then, things weren't as big of a disappointment when they didn't happen.

I'm done posting about that.

Last night James had to peel me off the bathroom floor because I drank a bottle of wine in the span of an hour. I didn't get sick, just dizzy. And I laid down in my tiny bathroom and used a towel for a pillow and fell asleep. Not because I was tired, but because I was wasted. I had a flashback to being a kid and seeing myself do the same thing with my mom. As we went back to the bedroom, I kept asking where James was, because I was convinced that the person taking me to my bedroom was my dad. So wasted, altered reality.

Apologetic, and looking into his eyes this morning I saw his fear and sadness for me. This has to stop. It's everything I didn't want.

And it's entirely NOT who I was. This is a new facet of me, and I'm not pleased. And I will make changes, small changes, and nip this in the bud. Prune this wallow tree. Yes, I said wallow tree.

Off to walk. Or just get out of the house.

Something Big

Last night I shared with James bits of my blog.

I also gave him the address. I said "If you start reading it, you can never let me know" mainly because I don't want to ever censor myself. Not that I would, but knowing who my readers are is kinda scary. Because I would rather be as truthful as I can.

Everything I write is all in my head, it's the internal conversation that I have with myself. It's like taking the mute button and making it a speaker button. So there I am, my life on loudspeaker.

If you see this, Hi James. I love you. And I love that you don't judge me. I'll be home tonight to give you kisses at the door.

------

I am working through so many things this week-- the idea if I didn't have the struggle against my weight, what would my life be like. If I never lost another pound, what would my life be like. I got to that I would want to take care of my body-- to maintain the way it is right now. To treat it well, with good food, good exercise, being active. Feeding my creativity and my mind. To just be. OK. With. Myself.

It's nice to get there.

Its all a journey. A journey to me.

Is it bad?

is it bad to get moved by your own writing?

A couple years ago a friend comissioned me to write text for his most amazing dance solo piece. And we came across it the other day.

My life is written on the backs of sleeves full of tears and snot in lieu of Kleenex

Waiting on corners for him to show up

My life is written on ticket stubs and burned out metro cards and buttons from shirts I never owned

My life is written on the backs of coffee cups with red ring sides full of kisses shared with liquid happiness

My life is written on church bulletins and post-it notes in my mother’s handwriting written out in highlighters

My life is written on postage stamps to cards never sent to family members unseen and unheard

Picture perfect events that never happened while I was around

My life is written on white paper with black pen as I patiently wait for my cigarette to finish smoking itself

My life is written on the pills of my middle management wardrobe and “what do you do for a living”

Its written on the sidewalks of my worn shoes back and forth to make some money

My life is written on the empty boxes of food and banana peels that make up my pile of garbage

My life is written with cigarette stained fingers and spoken in acts of an addiction

My life is written on bathroom mirrors and plate glass windows, words following me everywhere till I have no where to run

There is no hiding from my life, there is no absence, no structure, it’s life

I collect these words as they trail after me, stuffing them into my body, eating them again and again, and throwing them up into small bits and pieces until finally someday, one day, someone besides me will be nourished by them

It's not as easy as a song, or as pretty as a picture, I can't touch it or feel its warmth or hold it as I fall asleep at night. I can't wear it like a cloak or funny hat, I can't smell it like the trash truck hurtling down my street at 4am.

I can't describe it other than black pen on white paper, written in my mother's handwriting, broken into my own language.

I had forgotten this girl existed. This sad and thoughtful and miserable person with a very good sense of picture painting in greys and blues.

At the time during this was written, I was working for a bank, not happy at all, on the second shift. I was miserable in my body, so so lonely, and just hoping that someday, one day I would figure out how to date someone, anyone. I ate too much, I smoked too much, I lived with roomates and was still pining away for some guy who's name I can't even remember.

It's nice to revisit her. She's still lonely. She can't believe that this relationship, this body, this life is going to last. She comes out every now and again, snarky, bitchy, whining, and angry. Like I said, nice to revisit, but not to stay.

However, I am moved by that person. Wow. I forgot she can feel and write. And so it goes. I'm in the process of uncovering great things about myself, and slowing down..... but how can I slow down when I have nothing to do all day but find a job--- well, dear reader, that is the key. Spinning my wheels is useless. So now I am enjoying the day and being productive without jamming everything in there.

She's a good writer. I like her.

Letter to myself

When "I don't want to you can't make me" comes up, I call it my "little Kimmie". She's a rough and tumble, rounded belly girl who is way too smart for her own age, she likes things like kitty cats (which her mother won't let her have), playing in tents made with gramma's high backed chairs, and singing songs that don't make any sense. She is super sassy, but cries easily because she doesn't understand why everyone doesn't like her. She hates the rules, although she follows them, she would rather be jumping in the swimming pool, or running through the soccer field or eating ice cream for breakfast, or watching tv with complete control over the remote.

She is not a fan of structure at all. And as an adult, when Kim needs structure, little Kimmie comes out and rebels. She wants to watch tv, she wants to eat chocolate, she wants to take a nap, she would rather be bored and by herself than with others, because again, she doesn't understand why everyone doesn't like her.

Here is my letter to her.

Dear Kimmie,

You are such a beautiful girl, although you may not think so. Your friends have longer hair and are much smaller than you, but you can protect yourself from anything except from your heart getting broken. Not everyone has to like you, and it will take years for you to understand that people just may not be interested in talking to you or being your friend. But that this their problem, not yours. You can love them and appreciate them all you'd like, just know, they may not return it.

What you should know about yourself as a 36 year old woman is that you are still beautiful. And you are so super smart. People comment all the time how funny and sassy you are, and it is a testament to you, for just being yourself along the way, that will have you feel comfortable in your skin. So you can hide in a little bit of that smile knowing that you turn out a-okay.

But, sassy Kimmie, you hate the rules. Rules are boring. Here's the deal-- you have lost a job you loved, but people you have met along the way are from all over the world-- you've travelled to Asia and Europe and South America, and you have hundreds of friends. And they like you for you! However, you have been sad, so so sad, and no one can do anything to make you less sad. You have a great boyfriend who will become your husband, and even he cannot get you out of being sad. You feel like crying alot, because it feels like those people who took away that awesome job were mean. And perhaps they were, but what they didn't see is how truly amazing you are. You really can do anything once you set your mind to it.

So here's the deal, there are going to be some guidelines I am going to set. I don't want to call them rules, but perhaps, just a structure you can work in. You will get time to write and daydream and sing songs-- just so you can fill up your pot of mischief and mystery. But as an adult, I am going to need your help in getting the adult things out of the way to have that time.

First, together, we are going to look at your resume to see what it is you have accomplished, and together we are going to write it in our own words. Then we are going to talk to people who are our friends, or that want to be our friends, to see if there is anything they may know about that will have you create that dream career that I want. You have to remember the house you created with the red door and the room to dream in is our goal, you created it, and I am holding onto it, so that together we can find it.

Second, we will have scheduled things that need to be done. There will be running and playing and discovering and thinking and writing and all of that, all of which you love to do, but sometimes we are going to be doing them whether you want to at that time or not. It's not a punishment, you haven't done anything bad, but it's just a way to keep things like school-- a time table. It'll be like PE or Music class at St. C, you hated getting dressed for it, or walking down the hall, but once you were on the kickball field or in the choir room, a whole new world opened up-- and it didn't matter that you didn't want to just before. You did it because you said you would. And you actually like doing it. So you can make all the faces you want, and be a sour puss, but you are still getting up and doing what you said you would.

Every week, you will have 3 hours of a free pass during scheduled times. You have to use this time wisely-- and in those three hours you get to do anything you want. It will be our special little date together.

I hope you can see that together we are going to make this structure work. I know there are things you don't like that I am doing currently, like smoking and drinking, and I will need your help with that too. remind me what it's like to be a kid again, and run and jump and play and enjoy new adventures, and together we can be the best Kim we know how to be.

I love you. In partnership and play--

Kim

PS: the best thing about being an adult is that NO ONE ever calls you Kimberly. So you won that battle!

Living MY Life

Yesterday I started with a new women's coaching program-- and it's pretty awesome. I am taking on three BIG projects-- 1) health and well-being 2) creating a passionate life (whatever that may mean is yet to be determined) and 3) Dream career.

I am very very specific about what I want in a dream career-- I forget that when I write things down and then forget about them, they somehow come together. Years ago I started writing about my dream man/ partner-- the nameless faceless bastard that I am going to make miserable for the rest of my life, and lo and behold-- James. It took 7+ years, but overall, a nice wait. I often say that before I wouldn't have been ready for a relationship.

Before. Before what? Before surgery-- perhaps. Surgery and all the steps leading up to surgery had me get my shit in order. I had to get super real with myself. I had to understand the games I was playing with myself, and clear them out of the way. And for 8 months work non-stop as if this were my goal. And I had to really address some of the underlying behaviors and thoughts that had me get to my top weight. So before surgery, yes.

But before something else..... at some point I made a choice to not be alone. To want a partner in crime. And I talked about who I wanted that to be, wrote about him, dreamed about him. Sometimes I tried to date him, but alas, it wasn't him. Because I was still coming from "I'm not good enough", and settled for men that were not in my best interest. Or waited for someone to like me first. This happened well after surgery-- but around Feb or so of 2008 I shifted. I was and am good enough to be in a partnership with a man who is crazy about me, who wants to hold my hand, who can be respectful and loving, and on and on. And for the first time, I BELIEVED IT TO BE TRUE.......And then I really began the search for him. It was like I was opened to some thing inside myself that said "Okay, now" and I jumped in the pool.

Before, what else? Before my mid thirties. Before coming into that knowing part of myself where I feel strong and wise and I have grays on my head and creaks in my bones, before when I was supple and lucious and round (which I still am, just less round). Before when I was nervous and awkward and loud and bold and "It's never going to happen".

Now I am looking at my "before" for my career. Before my last position, I was just doing things for other people, recently I am doing for myself. Before I was scared they wouldn't like me, now, scared doesn't even come into it, I have to work with all kinds. Before I punched a clock, now I am always connected. Before I did the same thing every day, recently I had new exciting experiences that had me see that work can sometimes be what you love.

Thus, dreaming of the career.

It's actually very interesting, tapping into the calm wisdom that is in my center, my heart, and not all in my head. A bit of advice for myself, slow it down. When I slow down, I actually get so much more accomplished-- just listening to what I need. When I feel I have too many options, just choose one and stick with it until it doesn't work.

Living MY life.

If you want to know my coach and her programs, here she is. Check out her site if interested (I should probably warn her about my blog..... hmmm.)

http://www.soulfulcoach.com/

Living life when I want to live MY life.

James and I have been doing WW pretty regularly. And things are just not working. I lose, I gain, I lose. But it's the community that gets me through, the going to the meetings and talking about why we do what we do and having the insight to change the way we are doing things.

I've lost motivation to job search. I feel helpless, and yet I just want to sit in jammies all day and watch tv. And snack. And then feel bad about myself. And then look on facebook, and talk to friends and then feel bad, snack. I have been doing an enormous amount of drinking over the last couple of weeks and it's time to end that.

So we are getting ready for bed, which means that I am in bed, he is putzing around, getting coffee ready for the morning, brushing his teeth. I am watching a dvr'ed Law and Order (because I am obsessed). He comes to bed, I turn off the tv and we snuggle. I start to cry.

"Are you getting weepy?"
Yes.
Why, what's wrong?
Nothing, I just love you so much. I love you so much that I am afraid that some terrible accident is going to take you away and I'll never love anyone like I love you.
I hope you don't love anyone like you love me. I'm here for the long haul. I'm not going anywhere.

Then I tell him that I snack all day long, being unemployed sucks, and I have no purpose. And that I am changing up my routine-- doing a little detox off the coffee, off the soda, off the alcohol and a couple of days of liquids. Just to break the cycle of snacking. To get myself back to myself.

He says he's proud of me for recognizing that things have gotten out of control, but he makes no judgement on it. He says that because I say things have gotten out of control than they have, and his opinion doesn't matter because it's me who is going through it. He says he loves me no matter what size I am and to always remember that.

And then we fell asleep side by side.

---------------------

Yesterday I was talking to a friend that is doing this really cool program for women. It's a leadership institute for women-- working on goals and issues that mean something to us individually and working together. For instance, say I want to write a book, but I am blocked by it. I now have 10 women who can coach me on that, who can hold me to account. Say another woman wants to start her own business, 10 women to coach her. And on and on.

I wrote to my friend and told her it would be out of integrity for me to take on the program because of finances, but laid out all the things I could do in trade. And she said yes. And I am so freaking stoked!

Because really, for the last few weeks, I have just been living life. I want to start living MY life, saying how it goes, creating every day as something that pulls me forward and has me spring out of bed. It has me take on challenges and problems and solve them, create opportunities. I want that life.

My confidence has been shot for a long time, and I haven't reached out. So here it is....

It is time to live my life outloud.

Okay-- here's the plan. Journal every day, blog three times a week. Let you know what's up.
Right now, today, I am 271. I'm not happy with the number but everything fits well, an dI am active, going to the gym 3 times a week and toning up. I can lose 73 pounds. I can I can.

When I started, I thought it would be easy. Not easy. I wanted a running head start to lose the weight. Well, I got it. And now it's time to start running with it. 73 pounds is nothing.

----------------------

James says as we are falling asleep, just think that you only have 5 pounds to lose. You can do that. I know you can. I believe in you.

Wow. My eyes tear up with how much I love this man.

Gym and Spiriual Reconnection

Yesterday morning I went to the gym and ENJOYED it. I did legs and then walked/ran for 48 minutes. Today I am a bit sore, but the nice thing is that I got a lot of stuff done yesterday-- namely nails and toes.

I went to a sister Circle last night. Now before people get all weird on me, this circle is just a gathering of women who are taking 2 hours out for themselves to honor the women that have gone before them. It has nothing to do with witches and warlocks and Harry Potter-ish things.

Think a puritan gathering of women who come together to sing and share and laugh and create.

I forgot how much I enjoy that. The candles, the sage, the calm of being in the presence of other women who are honoring themselves by creating intentions for the month on the New Moon. It's like wishing on a star, a little girl wishes being told to her best friend, and going back to a much simpler time.

Last night was a guided meditation on what we have forgotten, that part of ourselves that we have left abandoned. I found my creativity again. It was just waiting for me, and I picked it up and dusted it off, and so now it's with me.

Along the line from my move from So Cal to NYC (14 years ago), I decided that I needed to be grown up and not be creative. I decided that having a real job that makes money that gives me the life I want was more important than being creative. But really, I decided that my creativity wasn't worth money-- that I couldn't make a living being creative-- whether that's writing, singing, dancing, painting, acting, comedy, sculpting, etc etc. And because of that decision, I left my creativity up on a shelf in a room I moved out of long ago.

So when I was doing this meditation, I found that although there have been times when I have transformed my creativity to suit the job, and have written/ sang/ danced/ etc off and on, that I haven't cultivated it. I haven't given myself the gift of what I love to do-- to be expressed artistically. At the time I abandoned it, I felt that since I couldn't make money "being creative" then I had to let it go. Which now I know is not necessarily the case. Do I have to give up swimming or cooking or anything else I love to do because I can't make a living doing it? No. I can keep cultivating my creativity, feeding it, watering it, and letting it be-- to grow into something great.

I feel connected.

Merry meet, merry part, merry meet again.

New Me meet Old Me

Over the weekend, James decided to clean the apartment, which of course freaked me out. I mean, he moved in with me, so I should clean, because the place still very much feels "mine". And I for sure should clean because I am home all day, although I am interneting, interviewing, phone calling and job searching. But I am HOME ALL DAY so it should be done by me, right?

James explained that he too lives here, and wanted to clean and straighten the mess, not "my" mess, not "his" mess, but "the" mess. Our mess. So away he went, I worked on the kitchen for a moment, the office for a while, the closet, and then left him to clean the bedroom-- pulling furniture away from the walls, sorting out the garage sale stuff from the just throw it out stuff. During the course of his cleaning, he came across my trunk of journals.

He's asked before if he could read them, and I've said no. I don't mind him reading my work, but he only knows the new me, I don't want him to see the old me. I don't mind showing him pictures of old me, or having friends tell stories of my antics, or trying to explain to him my mindset I used to have, but I can't have him read my very very intimate thoughts. From just past college to now. He put the trunk in the corner and started piling things on it for the sale.

Yesterday morning, I went through each page from Sept 1995 through just before surgery. The sum of my thoughts and words are:
"I am going to lose weight, a pound a week, exercise more, quit smoking, get off the couch, start a diet"
"I failed at my diet, losing weight, exercising, I'm still smoking, etc"
"I hate that I am alone"
"My so called friends are anything but"
"I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up"
"I hate myself, my body, my decisions, my apartment, my roomates, my lack of roomates, my boss/schedule/job/commute etc"

The old me worked through so much garbage on self-esteem. She made plans and deadlines and goals. She wanted to be 260 (which is what I am about) and be able to run (I can) be a non-smoker (I am) have a boyfriend (I do) and have a job beyond her wildest dreams (I did, and am currently uncovering that again). I wonder if old me actually worked on this stuff, or just declared it.

Old me on her way to the new me created possibilities, she took courses that changed the way she looked at herself and life, she met people that impacted her existence and sometimes gave her a purpose much larger than herself, she learned to be an amazing coach in life and career, ask for what she wants, not lie, etc. Old me was the one that chose to get weight loss surgery. Little did she know she signed her death warrant.

New me appeared. She slowly got more confident, unrecognizable, pretty, thinner, older and wiser. New me is fun and frolicky, she has energy and everything she puts in her mouth she thinks about. She no longer eats automatically-- she thinks about food as fuel first and then taste. She takes her vitamins, she pays attention to her body and the aches and pains. She reads up on health, mental and physical, and works on her well-being. She says "no" way more often, doesn't feel guilty all the time, and has a solid relationship based on trust, fidelity and love. She has a good idea about what she wants her life to look like beyond just losing weight.

She is also scared that her new addiction is red wine and she is taking steps to correct that.

New me, meet old me. As I was reading my words I got so confronted that I lived that way for so many years. It's just a tape in my head, and it's playing it's greatest hits with me now-- along with a few new ones-- you haven't lost all your weight, you only made it to a size 18W, you should have done more, done better, etc. You should have never started smoking, drinking, eating ice cream, testing out pasta/bread/sugar. I can eat it all, minus very oily things, and not have an issue. You should you should you should.

That's all part of the old me trying to resurface. The new me says you made it to your old me goals. Now, time for new ones. Ones that are meaningful to you. Ones that are about life, work, relationships, health. Ones that have nothing to do with "when i get to this weight i"ll be...." and then fill in the blank. I am healthy, active, and strong. I have very slight amounts of being down, and yet that road is always just a turn off the highway of my life. I don't want to dwell there. Just visit when it's necessary to re-group.

I went through the journals. Ripped out the important things I wanted to keep. Tossed out the stuff that was old me, old negative me. The half filled journals, the directions on pages to places i'll never go again, the old phone numbers to people I can't remember how I know them, notes from classes taken long ago. I kept a very small box of things that were important to me.

It's not like I am trying to get rid of that old me. I just don't need her past clouding up my future. I know I will not go back to read most of it, so out it went. And it felt good.

The only room in the house that is not clean is the office. It's time. Oh boy, it's time.

I might let James read the old stuff I kept. Perhaps.

I'm feeling lighter already

I should start every blog entry with "Poor James". I was doing a feel sorry for myself dance last night and just cried and cried. Didn't smoke, but then we went for a walk and some ice cream. And kissing. And well, then, not so poor James anymore.

The job search continues. I realize I am focusing less on the job, and more on just getting my stuff out there. But for someone's whose business it is to create the space for personal development, I am not doing any. Today I did 5.5 hours on search, and now I am going to read up on new trends in the industry. I need to be able to talk about what it is I am meant to do, right?

Had a full breakfast with James this morning. Eggs. Turkey bacon. Biscuit. Then a full lunch. Half a chicken salad sanwich, a bowl of salad. Grapes. There is not a lot of snacking today. I'm not really craving a cigarette, I am just going to keep setting myself up to win-- doing what I know is right to make a difference.

Small changes. Tiny ones. It's making a profound difference on my psyche.

In other news, it's hot and sweaty and I have spent the day without air conditioning because I am crazy like that. I figure it should be summer, I should get some fresh air through here, no matter how humid it is. It's actually not that bad.

However, I need to shower. Headed to the Mets game tonight. The best $600 I spent on anything, 15 games x 2 seats in nosebleed section. I forgot how much I loved going to the baseball game. Regardless of who wins. Although, winning is nice.

Busting through the numbers

Okay, so another thing I realized is that I am melting. and I hit my 2 year surgery anniversary.

So this is what's so:
I am at 267, which is 5 pounds over my lowest since surgery.
I can run around the bases in softball and not get winded.
I wear an XL t-shirt, an L tank top (old navy) and 18W bottoms.
I wear a 16W dress.
I am a non-smoker today.
I take my vitamins every day and rarely have missed.
I do not exercise more than 1 time per week. When I do I usually walk for 30 mins, and ride a bike for 25.
I often eat meals and drink water together.
I can eat anything. Seriously. Anything. Sugar, fat, refined carbs, meat, pasta-- you name it.
I had my ideal dream job and loved it, and got terminated because of the economy.
I have been laid off since February 2 and I am really tired of searching for a job and being so close to my refrigerator all the time.
I cook most meals every day and have turned into a pretty inventive cook.
I have a budget and keep to it (most days).
I have paid off $13k in credit card debt over the last year and have about $13K to go.
I am bordering on a transfer addiction of both cigarettes and wine. I have consumed more red wine this year than I have ever had in my life, and I crave it at times.
I have considerably cut back on my cheese intake, down from a drawer full of cheese to two kinds.


Some of those things I am proud of, some not so much.

Here's what my goals are for this upcoming year.
In 2010 on my surgiversary I will be able to say that:
I weigh less than 240 pounds
I am a non-smoker
I work out 3 times a week and use the Wii every other day.
I watch less than 6 hours of TV a week.
I do not drink anything with meals. I wait 45 mins after a meal to drink anything.
I only have alcohol on really special celebrations. And no more than 2 per celebration.
I take my vitamins every day and keep up with my blood labs.
I have been gainfully employed in a position for about 10 months that allows me creativity, freedom and the opportunity to make a difference, paying over $80K per year. I am stretched every day and my skills at networking, coaching and training are fully realized.
I have health benefits that are amazing.
James and I have set a date.
My credit card debt is paid off entirely.
I rarely eat pasta, treats (candy, cookies, ice cream), rice, bread and my diet consists mainly of a Mediterranean meals (fish, chicken, fresh veggies, feta, etc).

I can say I am happy right now in this moment. I am chomping on Nicorette and considering taking a shower because at 3:30pm I am still in my pajamas and have no motivation to get to the gym which is around the corner. Which I have all the time in the world for.

Laying in bed the other night, I was feeling around my new body. I am melting. My skin is melting, and I wonder how many more pounds I would lose if that skin went away. My guess is that it would be about 20 pounds (based on a friend who was the same size pre-surgery and dropped 100 pounds and had a lower body lift and lost 14 pounds at 5'3. I'm 5'9). So I reconfigured my "ideal weight) up top. Now, my ideal is in the 180's which would put me right about target.

Listen, I'll decide later on in life if I want a plasty surgery. I am not ruling it out. But for now, I would enjoy being employed and away from the fridge. Off to the gym.

Vacation

We went on vacation two weeks ago. I am still unpacking. It was a week in Arizona (I know, the middle of the summer) and it was magical in parts. And eye opening in others.

Started off the trip sitting across the aisle from one another, holding hands as we took off. This was James' first long trip, and of course, was a short trip for me. He has been on a few planes before to Fl and Canada, but me, well, world traveller over here. It was so very cute, he did a sign of the cross and said a prayer. I love him so.

After our snacks on the plane (I made sandwiches and brought along fruit and rice cakes) we landed and it was hot. Super duper hot hot hot. Spent the day napping and hanging out with C and her mom, enjoying the pool and catching up. The next morning we were off to Sedona.

Sedona. Oh glorious red rocks. My heart and eyes were opened to the beauty of the desert and the energy it has. Rather than give you a blow by blow, we did the following things....
1) Spent the day at the pool with books and magazines and rum.
2) Watched the sunrise.
3) Watched the sunset.

But this I will share. Up a road, into the hills a ways, we parked at a national campground-- picnic looking place. The sun was about an hour from setting, and the air was cooler than it had been during the day. I got out of the car and walked to the campground, just to get a better view of the red rocks, and be in the silence. No one was around. James got out, and we heard someone playing pan flute. Then the wind whipped up through the canyons and between us.

James is not one for new age and energy and all that. Of course, I am, but to each his own. We looked at each other, him with fear of the unknown, and me with strength and wisdom of a thousand years of lives, and spoke our vows on the wind.

Our eternal vows. I won't repeat them because we spoke with our hearts open, our minds connected, and to tell the truth, I have no idea what either of us said. What I do know is that I looked at that man in front of me and saw love, support, kindness, gentleness and truth. I saw forever-- and not just this forever, but the forever forever that lasts through time.

And with that, and tears in our eyes, our arms around each other, the wind whipped up against us and took our vows through the canyons and out into the world. One day, we will repeat them in front of friends, family and strangers, he in a suit, me in a dress-- but the wind knows what is in our hearts.

After that part of vacation, there was good Mexican food, good company with C and her family, a small snafu that lead me to take a stand for myself and not be bullied by another human. I saw Thunderbird, and am considering it for its MBA program. If I make the investment now when I am unemployed and have the time, I believe I can get more out of it in the long run. It's all choices.

Now, back to the WW. We don't have much liquor in the house, and our food bill has been reduced to about $75 a week because of finances. This is more than enough for the two of us to eat on, I buy most vegetables at the green market and am good for two weeks on fruits and breads. Meat might be an issue, but I am being creative. There's not a lot of eating out, or money for fun right now, because I want to be careful with finances. I don't want to have to ask mom and dad to cover me. I've got things I can sell and part with to make extra money. Cleaning out the clutter once again.

Weight-- doing good. Over vacation I gained .2 pounds, so that brings my total to 267.2. The next goal I am setting for myself is 259. I want to break into the 250's. And stay under that.

Saturday fill ins

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 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!