Tag Archives: life

There are some feelings that only trudging 9 miles can solve

I’ve been running into a lot of life’s little (shitty) roadblocks lately.

And it makes me want to punch walls.

1. A crappy hotel that I paid far too much money for.

2. The inability to get a changed paasport through my husband’s job (its a long story that’s too complicated to explain).

3. $2000 in vet bills so that I can take my dogs to south africa. Plus $4700 to move the dogs. (Yes, I know I made the choice to go to South Africa in the name of love and family but I can still internally freak out about the cost).

4. The lab estimating the amount of blood they needed wrong after I left Virginia to come to North Carolina. So I had to call several vets to see who could do this barrage of tests only to be met with confusion.

4. Continued uncertainty about life after next May.

This makes me, clearly, miserable to be around.

As such, I went for a walk this evening and ended up trudging nine miles to work myself out.

Unfortunately, now I’m still awake at midnight. But at least I’m less angry.

Cheers to all the people out there trying to work shit out when life sledgehammers your plans into a billion pieces.

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Representation Matters

TW: body image

No doubt, you have seen many of these posts and you are rolling your eyes right now. It’s ok. I get it. You can leave.

For those of you staying… *ahem*

Caveat 1: I have a lot of privilege and I have no idea how it feels to wake up every day and be told my skin color is wrong or that my gender identity is offensive or that my desire to represent myself according to my beliefs means people have the right to treat me badly. There are so many people out there suffering because society hates who they are. My self image issues are small in comparison.

As you may have previously read, I am on the fatter side of things. I also have problems with anxiety and depression and sometimes these diseases manifest themselves in a particular hyper-fixation on my body and how it looks. Or how much I weigh. Or if my lower belly pooch looks particularly large today. Or if my dress is too obscene because i have beast (from Beauty and the Beast) legs. Why is it that if I wear a dress and heels I feel particularly scandalous?? Is my face getting fatter? Do my arms look too much like sausages? Am I gaining weight? Did I really need to eat that bag of m&ms? Did I walk or run for one hour today? Are people noticing that I eat a lot? Are people noticing that I eat really fast and clear my plate? Are my shorts too tight? Can I feel my pelvis bones when I lay down or is it layered with fat?

That’s about 50% of the things that I think. I am 20 pounds heavier than I was 4 years ago. At the end of 2012, I was massively depressed and suffering from PTSD. And while I relished the one time the scale said 129, it wasn’t healthy.

Circa 2013

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This was at (almost) my lowest weight. At the time, I thought I looked awful and bigger. I probably only gained 3-5 pounds. I used to weigh myself every day and feel bad all day if I weighed more. I wasn’t starving myself, but I would torture myself.

Fast forward to five years later and 20 pounds more (approximately because I don’t weigh myself right now).

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Note: Not actually that tall. Heels.

Note 2: I know I used a wedding picture. We are making progress but I’m not at full fledged bad picture level of sharing.

So, here I am. Five years later. Still working on accepting myself and trying to be healthy. I’m a lot stronger now which I remind myself is important. I try to eat right even though I get pickle cravings. Intense pickle cravings. But I also try not to restrict myself from good food that I want to eat.  Which brings me to my point as to why representation matters.

I shop online and I look at social media. I see all the fabulous people with their beautiful bodies and both admire them and look at myself like I’m disgusting. Which brings me to my point:

Being able to see different bodies, races, sexes, beliefs is so important to being able to figure out self-love. There is nothing that makes me feel better than to see someone feeling beautiful being who they are and rocking it.

Nothing makes me feel worse than to see those same people being told they don’t deserve to feel good about themselves because they don’t fit a mold.

I love going onto websites and seeing different models rocking clothes. I love seeing people walking down the street with all kinds of swag and rocking their bodies.

I hate when the general public sees someone in wearing clothes and being happy and tells that person they can’t/shouldn’t feel good in their bodies.

So if no one tells you today, I want to tell you this:

1. You are worthy.

2. Your body is beautiful and it is like no one else.

3. I hope if you try a new style or wear something you were afraid to wear out in public that you think of me cheering you on.

4. Your body deserves to grow, exist, and change.

5. Please don’t torture yourself to look a certain way.

Sometimes the hill just sucks

Today, I ran a 10k. I wasn’t incredibly fast today, but I had those semi-philosophical thoughts that occur when running up A BIG FUCKING HILL IN THE SUN WHEN ITS 90 DEGREES.

1. Sometimes, in life, we go through periods where it’s just an obscenely large hill that doesn’t seem to end. This hill sucks. However, you have to climb the hill. You don’t have to like the hill. You can be angry at the hill. You can tell to go fuck itself, but really at the end that hill has to be dealt with.

2. It does not matter how fast you climb the hill. It does not matter how fast others climb the hill. This hill is your hill. No other hills will be like your hill. Get up your hill and stop worrying about everyone else’s.

3. The hill sucks but given that you’ll be spending massive amounts of quality time with the hill. You might as well enjoy the scenery. You’ll never be on this particular hill again.

4. Its hot as hades out so you need to ask yourself if you really care if your jiggly bits are out or if you want to overheat. Might as well be comfortable. Take your shirt off and keep going.

5. It doesn’t matter how fast you go, only that you go. It doesn’t matter how fast you were five years ago. You are not the same person anymore.

6. Your hill is unique. It is not comparable to other hills. So stop beating yourself up.

7. At some point you will be alone. You will look behind you and ahead of you and no one will be there. That’s ok. As much as we may be social creatures, at the end of the day, you are alone.

8. There will be some hills that teach you nothing.

9. Life is full of hills. They do not always disappear with your accomplishments. New ones pop up and old ones rise again. Conquering a hill and saying “now I will be happy” is counter intuitive. Be happy in spite of the hills.

10. Rushing up the hills is not going to make the other hills vanish. Might as well enjoy the walk.

Summer Blues

Last week, I had a melt down at work. The reason for the meltdown isn’t really the point – but I was reminded that people don’t really care all that much about anything outside of themselves (case-in-point I am writing about myself). Because of the type of job I have, I give too much when I shouldn’t. Part of it is guilt and, I guess, the other part just wants to make things work. I want to do a good job, but I do a good job at the expense of myself, sometimes. For example: We needed pizza for an event. My car was getting worked on that day. Instead of getting a ride, I walked to the pizza place (which was closed FOR NO REASON ON A MONDAY) and then walked to the location of the event (probably 2 miles from work). Ordered pizza online and it was delivered in the nic of time. However, why didn’t I just get a ride? Or have someone else order the pizza? Why did I feel the need to make it so hard on myself? Sure, its funny because its so insane. But, its not a good pattern.

It happens like once a month. Maybe, it’s because I find it difficult to ask for help.

I have found over the last year or so that sometimes things, places, people, organizations are just broken. This proverbial jenga tower cannot be rebuilt. Or at least, I am not the person to do it. Or maybe my jenga tower is broken. It’s funny despite everything that has happened over the last 6 years, I still haven’t figured out to how to let go or give less of myself. And, it tears me up because I feel too much, too strongly, too often. I am literally feeling down because of two fictional characters right now. I am literally anxious about trying to move in with my husband and encountering people at his work. It’s not for a month.

At the end of the day, the world goes on with or without me. Work will go on. People will go on. I am not a necessity. I’m not sure why I find this such a hard concept to understand. I am not the life-saving screw. I am just one piece.

I just want to turn off my feelings for a few weeks and catch up on sleep.

In other news, there are some photos that came out nice.

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