It's all coming too fast. October is getting here, and I am not ready for it. I feel like I need to do something on the fifth, but I don't know what, or how, to... I don't even know how to talk about it here. Even when I am somewhere like this, where I have the space to myself, I have a hard time talking about it.
On October 5, 1995 my mother died. This is a fact. This year, on October fifth, it will be FIFTEEN YEARS. FIFTEEN! That right there is more years with her gone than I was alive when she died. Fifteen. Good word. It really just leaves me struck dumb to think about it. To think that I was just shy of thirteen the last time I saw my mother. The last time I fought with her, and that is what we did that morning. I don't blame myself like I used to, even though she did kind of blame me, I don't think she entirely knew what the end result would be. I'm kind of over it now, kind of past the pain, and yet I never grieved properly. There is still a lot of hurt left, but I suspect that won't ever go away.
FIFTEEN years. Damn. I just keep looking at it and I can't wrap my head around it...
---
And then twenty days after that, my baby turns ten. TEN! I don't know how I am going to deal with all of this when it lands on my doorstep. TEN & FIFTEEN!! I think it just might kill me, heh. The baby itch is only ramping up now that my baby is going to be a pre-teen. All the more reason to keep walking. (I am infertile at my present weight, and that is actually what brought on the exercise in the first place. I want to have another baby before I'm thirty, and it is getting pretty damned close!)
My life, much like my head, is in a constant state of everywhere at anytime. I just hope I can keep holding on and see November in with whatever sanity I have left. I get to have Christmas this year, and I'll be damned if I don't do it up HUGE to make up for being too poor to do it last year.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Who I am
I've been trying to take off some weight, and it has made me reflect on who I am.
I've been a fat girl for so long that it has become a precious part of me. I will always be a fat girl, physically, because that is how I was built to be. I won't give it up because I don't need to. I do, however, need to take off a good sixty pounds in order to feel fully healthy again. It's not easy...
About a month ago I started walking an hour or three miles a day, three or four days a week. It did wonders at first, and the first five pounds just disappeared. Now I am stuck in flux between seven and ten pounds lost, and it is really driving me batty. Walking is obviously not cutting it for me anymore, and I have no idea what to do.
On top of all this, amidst the frustration that comes with trying to stay motivated, is the feeling that I am not being true to myself. I am not doing this to look good, because I think I am attractive. I'm not doing this because society tells me to, it is a decision I am making for myself. It is just so damned hard. I can't afford to go to a gym, I can't afford equipment, and I have tried using workout videos on Netflix, but let's be real here, THOSE VIDEOS ARE FOR PEOPLE IN DECENT SHAPE. Obese people have balance issues, and all that swinging fat certainly doesn't help. I know I can complain here, because no one hears me.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!
I guess I'll try and dance my ass into exhaustion for another fifteen minutes. Maybe half an hour a day of pure ass busting will do something.
I certainly hope so, anyway.
I've been a fat girl for so long that it has become a precious part of me. I will always be a fat girl, physically, because that is how I was built to be. I won't give it up because I don't need to. I do, however, need to take off a good sixty pounds in order to feel fully healthy again. It's not easy...
About a month ago I started walking an hour or three miles a day, three or four days a week. It did wonders at first, and the first five pounds just disappeared. Now I am stuck in flux between seven and ten pounds lost, and it is really driving me batty. Walking is obviously not cutting it for me anymore, and I have no idea what to do.
On top of all this, amidst the frustration that comes with trying to stay motivated, is the feeling that I am not being true to myself. I am not doing this to look good, because I think I am attractive. I'm not doing this because society tells me to, it is a decision I am making for myself. It is just so damned hard. I can't afford to go to a gym, I can't afford equipment, and I have tried using workout videos on Netflix, but let's be real here, THOSE VIDEOS ARE FOR PEOPLE IN DECENT SHAPE. Obese people have balance issues, and all that swinging fat certainly doesn't help. I know I can complain here, because no one hears me.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!
I guess I'll try and dance my ass into exhaustion for another fifteen minutes. Maybe half an hour a day of pure ass busting will do something.
I certainly hope so, anyway.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Wishes
I continue to read blogs, and to lurk, because I feel like nothing I have to say is unique and that alone makes it worthless.
--
Today I watched Julie & Julia and it really made me feel like I was missing out on something. As though my hesitation and fear of having to actually interact with people in order for them to want to interact with me was something I could overcome.
Alas, my eternal social awkwardness prevails.
I have so many things to say, so many words swirling around, and yet... and yet, I feel like saying them at all is just setting myself up for disaster. "Who would want to read what you have to say?" or, "What makes you special enough that anyone should read these words?" It's not that I am lacking in personality, or even likability, I just lack something so basic that there isn't even a word I know of to describe it. I guess it could be confidence, but I don't think that's it at all. I just have a hard time creating bonds with people. I don't have poor self worth, and yet I feel like I have nothing special to offer anyone.
I am just a lonely little blogger, who is afraid to say anything in case it ends up being nothing at all.
--
Today I watched Julie & Julia and it really made me feel like I was missing out on something. As though my hesitation and fear of having to actually interact with people in order for them to want to interact with me was something I could overcome.
Alas, my eternal social awkwardness prevails.
I have so many things to say, so many words swirling around, and yet... and yet, I feel like saying them at all is just setting myself up for disaster. "Who would want to read what you have to say?" or, "What makes you special enough that anyone should read these words?" It's not that I am lacking in personality, or even likability, I just lack something so basic that there isn't even a word I know of to describe it. I guess it could be confidence, but I don't think that's it at all. I just have a hard time creating bonds with people. I don't have poor self worth, and yet I feel like I have nothing special to offer anyone.
I am just a lonely little blogger, who is afraid to say anything in case it ends up being nothing at all.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
I woke up this morning with an earworm from a song I haven't heard in months.
I woke up with the ghosts of my bitter teenage choices tearing at my heart. If you could hear the way everything sounds swirling around my head the jumbled mess would likely drive you mad. I don't know what to make of resurgence of these feelings.
Some fantastic place... and the faces of the people I let myself lose. I was young and angry. I was bitter and hurting, and they should have known better. They should have clung tighter instead of loosening their grip. They should have given me every reason to want to stay a part of her family. Instead they loosened, and in my clouded judgment I let myself drift away.
I don't know if what I want now is to try and fit myself into their lives, or fit them into mine, I just know that my mother's death resulted in so much more loss than it ever should have. I lost her people, my people, and my son lost his history before his story even began.
I have dreams about bringing an infant girl to a family party, her family's party. I dream of my son dazzling them with his charm and my daughter being the center of attention. I don't have a daughter, and I don't have my family, and yet the dreams remain.
I've lost so many people who were important, and only two of them through death. I ran from my family when things got hard, instead of running to them, and now they're all gone.
My heart and soul ache for the love I used to have, but squandered with youthful foolishness.
I woke up with the ghosts of my bitter teenage choices tearing at my heart. If you could hear the way everything sounds swirling around my head the jumbled mess would likely drive you mad. I don't know what to make of resurgence of these feelings.
Some fantastic place... and the faces of the people I let myself lose. I was young and angry. I was bitter and hurting, and they should have known better. They should have clung tighter instead of loosening their grip. They should have given me every reason to want to stay a part of her family. Instead they loosened, and in my clouded judgment I let myself drift away.
I don't know if what I want now is to try and fit myself into their lives, or fit them into mine, I just know that my mother's death resulted in so much more loss than it ever should have. I lost her people, my people, and my son lost his history before his story even began.
I have dreams about bringing an infant girl to a family party, her family's party. I dream of my son dazzling them with his charm and my daughter being the center of attention. I don't have a daughter, and I don't have my family, and yet the dreams remain.
I've lost so many people who were important, and only two of them through death. I ran from my family when things got hard, instead of running to them, and now they're all gone.
My heart and soul ache for the love I used to have, but squandered with youthful foolishness.
Friday, May 14, 2010
The pit.
Possibly the hardest thing I find myself dealing with is this pit of despair that crops up uninvited. Nothing has to cause it to appear, sometimes it feels like it is just reminding me that it is always near.
And when it does...
I feel like a ghost of myself. I feel like I don't exist, or as if I never had. I find myself fighting tears for grief that should not exist. I am consumed by this burning, aching... it's everything and nothing all at once.
It feels like I am covered in a heavy black blanket, and I am running out of air.
And when it does...
I feel like a ghost of myself. I feel like I don't exist, or as if I never had. I find myself fighting tears for grief that should not exist. I am consumed by this burning, aching... it's everything and nothing all at once.
It feels like I am covered in a heavy black blanket, and I am running out of air.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Will.
Today, though I have been awake just barely an hour, I won. Today my will was stronger than my bad habits. I will need to be victorious often, if I am to meet my goal, but each win can only make me stronger. I need to do this, I need to LEARN to be stubborn about the right things, instead of just the things it is easy to be stubborn about.
Today I try to change myself, and I hope beyond hope that I can succeed.
Today I try to change myself, and I hope beyond hope that I can succeed.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Adrift
I was watching a movie today, and two people fell in love under impossible circumstances. They chose not to pursue their passion for each other in order to maintain the lives they had built. This movie came to me during an emotionally tumultuous time in my life, and those feelings awaken each time the film comes to that scene.
I can't articulate the whirlwind that comes over me, except to say that it is everything all at once.
Betrayal, lust, love, doubt, fear, anticipation, and all with a clear mind. I don't miss that feeling myself, but sometimes I miss that intensity.
I became so accustomed to my life being in upheaval that this stable happy life almost seems pale. There's no more track left on that roller coaster, and I almost miss that. It's taking time to adjust to not being in that situation. To no longer being the person who put themselves into those situations.
---
I had a conversation with my father yesterday, that led to many reflections on who I have been, and who I have become. I am my father's daughter. All of those insecurities and antisocial quirks, the hiding and lamenting. Those are all of his habits, and now they are mine. I do think that I have improved upon his design, however, in that my selfishness allows me to do for myself with less guilt. It allowed me to separate myself from situations and relationships that were not beneficial for me or my son. However, it also bore my flight sense.
I walked away from my family about eight years ago. I left the father of my child and just went away from them. I kept contact with my father, and thus my siblings, and wrote off everyone else. I broke strong bonds, because it was easier to walk away than to explain that I had made a mistake in bearing a child for a man who was not worth it. I was disappointed in myself, and sure that they were disappointed in me. Now I have to try and fix those broken bonds that are still available for mending. I lost that chance with one of my favorite people. I have to stop running from the people who love me even when I walk away. I have to not be selfish and fear hearing about their thoughts on how I have lived my life. I have to give up my reluctance in order to gain the family I have had all along.
I can't articulate the whirlwind that comes over me, except to say that it is everything all at once.
Betrayal, lust, love, doubt, fear, anticipation, and all with a clear mind. I don't miss that feeling myself, but sometimes I miss that intensity.
I became so accustomed to my life being in upheaval that this stable happy life almost seems pale. There's no more track left on that roller coaster, and I almost miss that. It's taking time to adjust to not being in that situation. To no longer being the person who put themselves into those situations.
---
I had a conversation with my father yesterday, that led to many reflections on who I have been, and who I have become. I am my father's daughter. All of those insecurities and antisocial quirks, the hiding and lamenting. Those are all of his habits, and now they are mine. I do think that I have improved upon his design, however, in that my selfishness allows me to do for myself with less guilt. It allowed me to separate myself from situations and relationships that were not beneficial for me or my son. However, it also bore my flight sense.
I walked away from my family about eight years ago. I left the father of my child and just went away from them. I kept contact with my father, and thus my siblings, and wrote off everyone else. I broke strong bonds, because it was easier to walk away than to explain that I had made a mistake in bearing a child for a man who was not worth it. I was disappointed in myself, and sure that they were disappointed in me. Now I have to try and fix those broken bonds that are still available for mending. I lost that chance with one of my favorite people. I have to stop running from the people who love me even when I walk away. I have to not be selfish and fear hearing about their thoughts on how I have lived my life. I have to give up my reluctance in order to gain the family I have had all along.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
