Wordless Instagram Friday (It is Friday, right?)

Belated HYC: Week 7

My post is late because I'm on holidays this week and just enjoying being lazy and doing nothing much.  I don't have a lot to report...  Last week was good - decent workouts and ate well.  We went for a gorgeous walk in the sun on Saturday at Westminster Abbey and Heritage Park.  

I had something of a... breakthrough on Tuesday.  I went shopping with my birthday money; while trying on clothes, I was FINALLY able to look at things objectively and realize that it was the clothes that weren't the right "fit," not me - the cut wasn't compatible or I needed a bigger size: whatever, no big deal.  For the first time in I don't even know how long, I wasn't standing there watching my face flush with shame as I blamed myself and hated my body.  This is my body right now: I need to love it for what it is because it's the only body I have.  Obviously.  *snort*

(Just to give you an idea of how screwed up the fashion industry's sizing is, I bought a large and 1X shirt.  From the SAME STORE in the SAME BRAND.  (And for the record, no, I don't squeeze my ass into stuff so it fits like a sausage casing just out of an attempt at vanity sizing.  Obviously.))

I'm  not saying I won't have slip-ups; I've hated my body for 20 years and that's a long-ingrained (bad) habit to get over.  However - as dippy-hippie as it sounds - I feel like I turned a corner.  And that feels pretty damned good.

My decision not to have children has NOTHING to do with YOU

The fantabulous Schmutzie made a list on Twitter of child-free bloggers over 30.  Now, perhaps it's because I've read her blog and interacted with her on Twitter, but I knew that there was nothing nefarious or insulting involved in the creation of this list - that's not the kind of person I've ever known Schmutzie to be.  However, she got all KINDS of not-so-nice comments, questions, and judgements about her intentions (she wrote about it on Blogher).

I was recently discussing the whole child-free thing with my friend Robin after she shared a blog post from Childfreedom.  I've long been on the fence about whether or not I want children: while I can't say I'm a "kid hater," I'm also not dying to have one of my own; because I'm not 100% certain, it just doesn't seem wise to do something that I can't... take back, for lack of a better phrase.  I sure as hell don't feel like any less of a woman human simply because I haven't produced crotch fruit.  The reasons for my uncertainty might be "silly" to some, but obviously they're serious to me.  That aside, they're MY reasons: I don't have to justify them to anyone.  

Calling me "selfish" for choosing not to have children?  Screw you and the horse you rode in on.  My choice to recognize my own limitations and fears and not take the chance of doing something that ultimately might make me unhappy in an irrevocable way is no more selfish than your choice to honour your desire to be a parent and have a child: if we wanted to be assholes like that, a valid argument could be made for both sides.  As far as regretting not having children, Chebbar summed it up in a way that really clarified things for me when he said he'd rather live regretting NOT having children, than run the risk of potentially regretting having children.  Who wants to saddle a child with that?  And the whole "what are you going to do when you're old and alone?" thing is horse shit.  There's no guarantee that your child is going to grow up to be a successful, productive member of society who will be more than happy to care for you in your old age: that's why you foster  relationships with family, friends, and neighbours; get involved in community programs like Big Brothers or your church; and start planning for your damned retirement NOW.

Yet again, this is just another shining example of how people aren't happy unless they're tearing others down - of letting our insecurities about our shortcomings taint how we see, judge, and treat others.  My decision to not have children is no more your concern than what I have for dinner or what I wear to bed: it is neither a condemnation of Gertrude's choice to have children, nor an attempt to poke fun at Irma's difficulties in conceiving.  Quit being so damned narcissistic that MY choice about MY life that *I* have to life with is somehow twisted to be a reflection of you/your life/your choices.  When you're willing to pitch in and help me raise these hypothetical children, you'll be MORE than welcome to offer your two cents.  Until then, keep your asspinions to yourself.

Oh, and I reserve the right to change my mind, and if I do?  That will have NOTHING to do with YOU either.  ;)

Happy birthday to meeeee...

...I'm now thirty-threeeee
I don't look like a monkey,
But I do have to peeeeee!

What?  I'm not a poet, dammit.

So, it's my birthday.  Ever since I hit thirty, birthdays have become somewhat melancholy - they seem to border more on sad than happy.  Which is sad in and of itself.  I've never been a HUGE birthday fan, but there's something very appealing about a day that is ALL YOURS, y'know?

This year, though, my best friends are 1,406km (873 miles) away.  Chebbar and I aren't doing anything major for each other's birthday (or for our anniversary next month) due to our limited fundage.  It's not like I do big, extravagant parties or anything, but it still kind of feels like a let-down.

HOWEVER.

Holy crap are you people generous with your birthday wish love on facebook and twitter!  All the amazing birthday wishes all day long have MADE my day.  Truly.  I so appreciate each and every one of you more than I could ever adequately convey.  No, seriously: I pink puffy heart you!

For my birthday, I'm giving myself TEN! WHOLE! DAYS! off work.  I'm also going to work on my "Bitch, I'm FABULOUS"-ness, because it's seriously lacking (for real: I told Chebbar last night that I honestly can't see past (what I consider) my negative characteristics to the positive things the rest of you wacky kids seem to see).  I'm tired of not even liking me, never mind LOVING me.

Because clearly I'm awesome.  *snort*

Wordlesss Instagram Wednesday

HYC: Week 6

Last week wasn't great work-out wise: I ended up with the worst flare of IBS (as in where-the-hell-did-I-put-that-damned-medication?!?) I've had in months, and it hurt to so much as breathe, so exercising wasn't in the equation from Thursday on - I only got two workouts in before I was felled by the The Pile of Gastrointestinal Suck.  However, I did do my scheduled weigh-in and found that I'm down 3.6lbs, so I can officially put this back up!

I'm now down 11.3lbs, which is halfway to my 10% goal.  I'm still a little bummed at how much I backslid, but that's life, right?  Move upward and onward.  Keep moving.  Keep working on me and my self-esteem and so on.  Keep enjoying life.  Keep working on not worrying about the size of my pants or how my ass looks.  I'm up for the challenge.

Cruel or genius? You decide.

Yesterday 2/3's of Chebbar's family came to visit. As we sat around the table while the boys ran amok (cc: @hismuse) in the living room, Beth admitted that she told Jake (the youngest poppet) that the boogeyman doesn't live under his bed: the boogeyman lives under her bed...

O_O

...for a second I was taken aback at how MEAN! that is - poor little dude will be scared to go into Mommy's room! Then my brain started to work and I joined her in grinning evilly at her cunning genius: he'll be too scared to crawl into Mommy's bed.

So, what say you, folks? Evil or evil genius? What have you told your kids to buy yourself 3.7 seconds of peace and quiet? SPILL!

Phoning it in Friday

Oh, and you Instagram haters? Can #suckit. *angelic grin*

Write your heart out

I followed a squee of @justanna's to her blog where she is doing a handwriting meme.  Let's see...  1) I love memes (shut up); b) I love stationery; and iii) I love to write/print, so I *have* to play along, obvs.

Write ‘Hello!’
Your name/blogger name
Your blog name/URL
Write ‘The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.’
Favorite quote?
A number
5 words
Favorite music?
A really awesome website you read
Anything else you want to say?

So, as you can see, I wrote this FIVE TIMES before I stopped, and that's only because I told myself that this was the last time and to knock it off (read: I'm STILL not satisfied with it).  I have a weird, printing-writing hybrid regardless of whether I print or handwrite.  I printed and wrote because I enjoy both (and I'm an over-achiever.)  Also, I'm noticing that my handwriting has gotten sloppy, so I should probably practice more - I type 99% of the time and print the other 1% of the time.

(Funny story: in high school, I charged $5 a note to get people out of class and/or excuse an absence because I was known for having "mom" handwriting.  Sadly, my little racket had to stop when I started working in the office...  hehe)

Listen to me boost your self-esteem!

So, because I'm uber-dorky and love the above-blurb so much (seriously: it's the wallpaper on my iPod so I see it every time I pick the thing up), I decided to record myself reading it for those days that I need to be reminded.  I've sent it to a few friends that I thought could benefit from being reminded of how amazing they are.  One of the three encouraged me to share it with teh intarwebz, so here goes nothing (please don't laugh too hard - yes, my self-esteem is showing :P )...

***If you're viewing this post in a reader, please click through for the audio!***

Check this out on Chirbit

Dress you up in my love

Spring has sprung (or is trying to sprung) here, so this girl's mind has turned to thoughts of shedding sweaters and trading them in for lighter attire.  I clicked an Anthropologie link on The Twitter this morning and started poking around.  So, DRESSES!  (Spendy dresses, but dresses nonetheless.)

Wave-Washed Dress  $188

I'm still in love with maxi dresses even though I'm probably too short for them and they're SO last season (enter excessive eye-rolling here because clearly I don't shive a git about that kind of nonsense).  However, if I come across one I like, I will take @PrincessJenn's suggestion and have it hemmed to fit me properly and give it a try.  *nods*

Tied Down Dress  $98

Love the colour, the knots, the cowl neck...

En Plein Air Dress  $258

The colours in this dress seem more fall-appropriate to me, but I love the retro vibe.

Tippi Dress  $268

This one reminds me of mint chocolate chip ice cream from afar (my favourite!).

HYC: Week 5

Five days of exercise last week!  Yaaaaay, me!  :)  My eating was on track for the most part, but seemed to get progressively... off track as the week wore on (I'm blaming the PMDD).

Almost every month, the PMDD catches me off-guard until after I've melted down and felt like I was losing my ever-loving mind.  So, I decided to get smart, if you will:

Click to embiggen.

That's what my Google Calendar looks like every four weeks (well, it will say WARNING! on all five days: I decided to update when/if I have an episode so I can track them).  For me, the PMDD is primarily mood swings - I'm (more) angry, irritable, impatient, easily frustrated, more prone to tears, and (the most awful one for me) suspicious/paranoid/jealous.  When I have a flare, it's always only a day or two max (and really only a few hours each day: it doesn't last 48 hours), but they seem to come so out of the blue and disappear so fast that I'm left stunned and wondering what the hell just happened.  The other 26 days of the month, I'm FINE.  

But those two days?  Are hell.  For me and Chebbar, because unfortunately the suspicion, paranoia, and jealousy center on him (because let's be honest: no one's gonna be trying to "make a move" to "steal" my mom, y'know?  And to be clear, it's a specific person I focus on - it's not like I'm all Fatal Attraction-bunny killer with every female who crosses his path).  I beat myself up over it all, too, because the suspicion/paranoia/jealousy is SO out-of-character for me: I never would have considered myself a jealous person before Chebbar (although, I have said that it's because I never had anyone worth being jealous over before).  It's completely, 100% ridiculous and I *know* this (and realize/recognize it after the fact), yet I'm literally incapable of stopping the disordered thoughts - I'm so caught up in a hormonal haze of batshit insanity that there's no talking myself off the crazy ledge and stopping the negative thoughts.  

(Wow.  I sound like a lunatic.  Awesome!  *snort*  Mostly, I want to put this out there so if someone else stumbles across my blog, she might realize she's NOT alone, she's NOT losing her mind, and that there IS an explanation for what she's experiencing.)

I thought that a visual WARNING! I'd see every day during "dangerous time" might help me remember either pre-emptively, or at least in the heat of the moment.  This time around, it started with a completely innocent conversation with Dawn in which we discussed a male friend of hers and his wife's raging jealousy, insecurity, and absolute refusal to spend time with Dawn and Greg (y'know, Dawn's HUSBAND?!? yeah... ).  Of course, because this is my best friend, I'm very sympathetic (and biased); however, I couldn't very well sit there on the couch next to Chebbar without at least acknowledging my jealousy issues (which do have extenuating circumstances that were not within my control, but still).  When I got off the phone, Chebbar and I discussed Dawn's situation, which naturally shifted to our situation.  

That got my mind going, I was thisclose to an anxiety attack (it only stopped because I took an Ativan), and I shut down - I didn't say one word in the hour before we went to bed: I couldn't.  I was locked deep inside the dark pit of my brain, listening to all these nasty, hurtful thoughts.  When he asked what was up, I told him I couldn't talk about it at that time (we were in bed: I knew I wouldn't sleep if I started voicing my crazy).  The next day was a combination of things (work-related, mostly) that culminated in me sobbing at my desk and taking a second Ativan not 12 hours after the first (which always makes me feel "weak," even though this is exactly why my doctor prescribed them).  

The good part of all of this was that I was able to remind myself that this isn't *normal* and that it would pass - I was still upset, but not as much as I have been when I was unable to remember that I wasn't losing my mind.  We had a good talk when I got home from work, and - while emotionally drained - I felt better.  Saturday morning, things were back to "normal."  I'm glad I made that recurring reminder for myself.  I think it will continue to help.  

Purging old demons

Awhile ago I mentioned feeling the need to forgive a couple of people in order to be able to move on with my life - thinking in Dr. Phillian-terms of forgiving for MY sake, not theirs.  That night when I got home from work, I was discussing it with Chebbar and realized (in the talking it out of my head) that I don't WANT to forgive them: in my (not so) humble opinion, what they did to me (and the rest of my family) is reprehensible and unforgivable.

Regardless of what pop-culture psychology tells us, to *ME* (enough emphasis there? lol), forgiving someone is akin to saying that what they did is okay with you.  What they did?  NOT okay.  Never will be.  Also, to *ME* forgiving someone inherently implies that the "offending" party a) recognizes that s/he did you harm, b) ADMITS that s/he did you harm, and c) has apologized for causing you harm.  None of that has happened, and I'd bet everything I own it never will - that's what happens when you deal with megalomaniac sociopath, folks.

I'm not forgiving them.  I won't forgive them - they don't deserve forgiveness.  What I have done is write a bloody five-page letter emo-word-vomiting everything I've ever wanted to say.  I ended it by writing promises to MYSELF: I will no longer carry the hurt and anger they caused; I revoke permission from them to take up valuable space in my head; I will no longer let the choice THEY made have any bearing on my opinion of my own self-worth; I will recognize this parting of ways for what it is - a BLESSING and a GIFT.

And when I get home, I'm gonna pull a Phoebe and burn that fucker to purge them from my being once and for all.

Wordless Instagrams

Things That Can Just F*ck Right Off #33

#33:  People who think they should be able to dictate how others use Twitter/blogs/the internet - who died and made YOU Al Gore?




Explanation

HYC: Week 4 - Body Image

Last week was AWESOME!  Well, until Friday's weigh-in...  I decided to count Saturday's errand-running (two hours of walking (and yes, that's actual walking: time in the car was NOT included)) and Sunday's bake-o-rama (two and a half hours on my feet moving around the kitchen), so got in five days of activity.  My eating wasn't too shabby.  Unfortunately, the scale reflected a two pound gain.  

I'm rather ashamed to tell you that, despite my good intentions last week, I let that number get the best of me.  I kind of went on a bit of an emo rant on Twitter in which I spewed all the nasty, hateful (and they were nasty and hateful) words that my brain was calling me.  I hate feeling like an attention whoring drama queen, but I needed to get that negativity out of my head so I could move on.  Luckily for me, I have some damned amazing, loving, and supportive friends who reached out to prop me up.  As well, two wise women pointed out that I was likely just gaining back lost muscle mass (which was evidenced in the fact that I did *lose* 1.25" - not much, but still a loss considering the 2lb gain).

Even still, I had an awful weekend.  I was cranky all day Saturday and just really not liking myself.  In an email exchange with my fantastic friend Daydreamin Fool (seriously, LOVE HER: it's like she lives inside my brain (the poor bugger)!) in which we discussed Curvy Girl Guide's Project Real initiative, we talked about some tough stuff concerning body image, self-esteem, confidence, and self-worth.  She realized that she's not alone in how consuming self-hatred can be, and I had a light bulb moment...

I've long wondered what the stumbling block is that keeps me from getting to where I want to be - it would seem that if I'm *SO* unhappy with my body, I'd do whatever it takes to get to a place where I'm happy, right?  So why is that, when things are going GREAT diet/exercise-wise, I find some reason to stop?  I realized that I'm afraid.  My issues with myself and my looks are so long-standing and so deeply entrenched that I'm petrified I'll do all this work and keep at it until I'm at a point where I *should* be happy... and find myself just as miserable and just as full of self-hatred.  And I HATE hating myself.  I HATE that so much of my bloody self-worth is tied up in *my* fucked-up vision of myself (because no one else seems to agree with me (or is at least polite/kind/loving enough to keep it to themselves)).  I'm so! much! more! than my size/shape/weight, and yet here I am: miserable and unhappy with no real or valid reason.

In one minute, I'm tempted to cut all the tags out of all my clothes so I (read: no one else (who the hell else is gonna be looking in my pants?!?)) can't see how "huge" they are.  In the next, I'm realizing how silly that is: who CARES what size my damned pants are?  Shouldn't I own who I am in this exact moment?  I signed up to the Project Real Flickr group when it started, having every intention of posting a picture of what 216lbs at 5'2 looks like; when they started the "Boost Book" Flickr group, I had every intention of posting a picture (mostly because I knew how easy it would be to tell the internet exactly what was wrong with me my picture... *shame face*).  Do you want to know why I haven't?  Again, I'm absolutely petrified that either a) no one will have anything positive to say (read: I'll sit there manically refreshing the page to see if anyone has commented), or b) that they'll "just be saying that to be nice."  Because, y'know, random people of Cyberia that don't know me outside of the box and have nothing to gain by complimenting me couldn't POSSIBLY be being honest...  *eye roll*

So, I'm trying to make a change.  Slowly.  I'm exploring self-esteem and body acceptance.  I'm playing the hell out of my self-esteem playlist.  I'm trying desperately to stop negative self-talk and rephrase my thoughts.  It's going to be hard and it's going to be a long, slow journey, but I'm feeling cautiously optimistic.  

Wordless Instagram (aka: Yeah, I Got Nothin')

Butterflies with bullets for wings. Or something like that.

• My laptop seems to be in the process of shitting the bed.  It's been... fussy for awhile now: I've just been in denial.  (Mad props to @culturalsavage for all the info on Twitter last night.)  I left it on to do a back up last night; when I got up this morning it was "sleeping" and couldn't be woken.  I turned it off at the switch and powered it back up no problem, but when I tried to shut down again, it just hung at "shutting down" for a good 15 minutes before I turned it off at the switch again.  I'm going to reformat after work and pray to Ceiling Cat it helps.  I'm sad.  And scared.  Hold me?  *whimpers*
• I'm wearing a new sweater today.  It's grey.  And argyle.  And cost me a whopping $15.  I loves it.
• I haven't heard from my mom in four weeks, and that was only because I called her after not hearing from her for three weeks before that.  I have no idea what (if anything - I'd HOPE that if anything major was going on (i.e. health issues), my step-dad would clue me in) is going on, or if this is some kind of... game (my extended family is notorious for playing the "Well, *I* called YOU last: it's your turn!" game); unfortunately, I'm kind of in a "Screw this.  SHE can call ME when she's damned good and ready" place.    Sadly, this kiiiiind of makes me guilty of playing the same damned game.  *shame face*
• I've been kicking ass with workouts this week: Chebbar hasn't felt up to walking at all (he's still having issues sleeping, the poor bugger), but I did my own thing instead.  :)  Even still, I'm a little worried about my weigh-in this evening.  At the same time, I'm in a "Eh, fuck it" state of mind.  Not apathetic: more along the lines that I've been doing really well, feeling good mentally and physically, and know I'm doing good things for mah bod, so if the scale hasn't budged, who cares?
• That being said, I was exhausted and in pain yesterday, so I gave myself a break.  Luckily for me, Chebs stepped up and made dinner, too.  *happy sigh*
• Carnation Hot Chocolate is GROSS compared to Cadbury Hot Chocolate.
• Have you seen my massive self-esteem playlist?  Because it's pretty freaking awesome, if I do say so myself.  (Go check it out, please?  I'm kinda proud of it.)