Category Archives: Mental Health

Day 6 – Love Your Life in 30 Days (and where I have been the past few days)

So it has been a rough couple of days and I have fallen behind in this growing challenge. I have been totally sick and just haven’t felt like myself. A lot of things have crossed my mind and I have felt the task of contemplating them way beyond me as I have dealt with this illness. Insecurities have threatened to overwhelm my new point of view but I have battled through them. Onward and upward they say. Steadily losing weight, steadily gaining ground on a new perspective. Now if only I could get out and back to living in the real world instead of bundled up on the couch, maybe I would feel better.

There are so many things I want to do. So many goals I want to achieve but I feel so stifled. Whether it be for my own fear of tomorrows, of the unknown, of what’s to come or whether it be reality is yet to be determined. I am going to keep pushing through. I am going to keep sparkling. I am going to keep making this work. Because I can. Becuase I am able to. And because I fucking deserve it.

DAY 6

This activity is about planning which baby steps you can start taking in the direction of your goals. TODAY, choose one of your goals and beneath it write down at least 7 baby steps that you can start taking to move toward it. Ask yourself: What else can I try? Where else can I go? Who else can I talk to? You can do this for all of your goals if you like. Starting in the days and weeks ahead, begin to put these steps into practice.

Health –

  1. Go to sleep at a decent hour every night, that hour is yet to be determined but it is surely before midnight
  2. Make sure to say what is on my mind and no hold back when I am thinking something, it keeps me from showing how I really feel about things
  3. Make time to go to the gym at least four times a week
  4. Take at least ten minutes a day to just breathe
  5. Be honest with myself
  6. Know it’s ok to say no
  7. Be kind to myself

If you ask me

I can’t promise you the answers

If you ask me what is wrong

I can’t promise I can do it

If you tell me to be strong

The days are going slowly

Dragging by silently

I sit and watch the clock

My mind begging to be free

I wish I knew what was happening

Why I just can’t be free

Of the hidden pain and judgement

Of the wrongs that were done to me

Everytime I think I’ve done it

That I’ve finally moved on

I get this sharp painful reminder

That it hasn’t been so long

But I’ll just keep pushing forward

Because I refuse to be held down

I’ll keep fighting this feeling

I’m going to stand my ground

I deserve to just be happy

to let my wings fly free

I am going to live my life now

And somehow finally find me

Take back those words

Can we take back all the words that I have said that were cruel and unusual in the past 24 hours? Not just to others but you myself as well. Take back the pain, the hurt. The frustration , the tears. Can we hold on to the precious few moments that I felt like I was doing something of value instead of screwing up everything I set my mind, my hands, my eyes my heart to?

Can I know where the messages in my brain came that nothing was good enough. That all of a sudden I was this failure. Can you fix those short circuit ingredients wires and replace them in my head. Can you dry up the tears that fell from my cheeks as I cried over the fact that I wasn’t good enough for them, to cherish their laughter, to deserve their sticky kisses. Those thoughts don’t belong here anymore.

Long have I worked to prove to myself that I could make it through the hardships. Long have I toiled, re-education my brain to prove to myself I was worthy of everything I had put so much effort towards. But today…yesterday. feels like all that effort was in vain.

Black stormy clouds took over my head and down I sank. Clawing my way to some sense of peace. That I was going to be ok. To stop judging. To picking away at parts of myself that had scarred over. I struggled through the day just to fall into a restless sleep.

And upon awake the cloud not black but grey. Could I make it through. Would the sunshine and push away the sorrow that and stole my peace. I’m fighting. Fighting so hard. Counting the blessings.

Kids

Healthy

Writing

Sparkles

Home

Food

Family

But I feel unworthy. Why. Why is the question. I have no answers. No answers but I’m pushing through. Just have to make it. Make it till Thierry smiles can chase the clouds away once more. I’ll get there.

So many changes. Changes provoking thoughts. Thoughts pushing me so hard. But my body isn’t ready. Rest. Rest. I will be strong enough to do what I have to. In time. Not all at once. Shhh. Rest now. I will get through this. I will get through

Sparkle thoughts

I’m ALLOWED to have a BAD day!

I’m just having a bad day. Isn’t a girl allowed to have a bad day? For no reason other than she woke up sad. There’s a lot if things going on and I’m having a bad day. I feel scared, alone, exhausted. I feel netvous anxious. I feel like the tears are coming from no where and I can’t explain them. You ask me why and I say I don’t know. I can’t tell you why I feel this way. I can tell you the kids are just fine. This has nothing to do with my miraculous little creatutes. This has nothing to do with their father. He’s alrite in my book too. 

This has to do with the fact that I feel so very alone. That words and memories and songs keep playing through my head like faded memories and I can’t make themstop. I can make them go away. That I’m fighting this battle, this amazing, fantastic journey and I’m doing it all alone. And yes I’m fucking proud of nyself. It has nothing to do with pride. It has to do with I wish I had someone to hold my hand. To tell me ill be ok. To hold me through my what if and im scareds. To tell me they were right there beside me all along and you know what I don’t. And I’m mad. And I’m sad. And yes I’m allowed to be sad. I’m allowed to want to curl up and be held and just worry for a little while. 

I have all these emotions. I’m feeling all these things. This year’s has been so hard and I’ve been through so much already. And yes this is my journey, my step towards a better me, a healthier me, a new life. But I’m fucking scared. I’m scared that this is how it with always be. An uphill battle. Me against the world. With nothing soft to come home to. I miss the soft. I want the other side of my bed to be warm. I want comfort in knowing my insides are loved as much as my outsides. I want my forever. I want to stop THINKING about it. It hurts. I’m tired of it hurting. The hurt springing frp. No where at random times. Random moments of goid, like in the shower when I’m peaceful and safe and the thought of a forever moment creeps up. Because I let my mind go a little to easy. I let the wall crash down. I let myself relax.

This is the person I don’t let you see. The girl behind the mask. The girl who still has the softness to her. The fear of letting the world in. The one that wants to be held. Craves to be cherished. The girl that sits, weeping in her parked car, at the edge of a park. Instead of going home to sit in her room. Because maybe I can get over this and still make something of my day. All I want to do is eat. And I can’t eat. I gave up that line of defense. 

I’m allowing myself this time to have a bad day. Because it’s ok for me to cry. It’s ok for me to want. It’s ok for me to feel. I just wish….wish I had the switch to make it all ok again.

Falling off the wagon

I want to say I’ve become terrible at blogging but I haven’t. I want to say I’ve stop caring about blogging but I haven’t. I want to say I’ve sat and stared at the cursor blinking for hours but I havent…in all honesty I’ve thought about blogging, life has happened, I put it off and moved on. Things have been crazy in these parts. I’m 9 days away from syrgery, 2 days in to my doctor ordered strict liquids only diet. I am suffering through incredible headaches, awful nausea and I either want to cry or scream it really just depends on the moment.

The emotions running through my head are really interesting. On one hand I’m scared of what’s going to happen in 9 days, scared because I don’t know if people are still going to love me for my insides or if they are going to just like my outsides. If I’m going to like my outsides. I know I will, I’m just nervous…the unknown is a scary this. Traveling headfirst into my new story, no one to hold my hand, no one to kiss my forehead and tell me they will love me no matter what. I have to learn how to validate myself and that my friends is hard to do.

I’ve realized that as the days pass by I am slowly letting my love dissapear, like Marty Mcfly of the past. I don’t even remember his voice anymore. It has been determined that I am a good person. I am a person that can not knowingly go out to hurt people. I can not wrap my head around how people can knowingly invalidate others and hurt them to the extent that I’d been hurt. That is what I am dealing with now. Coming to my own sense of closure and I am getting there. Just by living.

So between coping, closure, odd moments of preop fear and watching so many artsy movies I think I’ve been ok. I’ve realized that I’m allowed to be ok. Not only am I allowed to be ok, but I’m allowed to be ok and have bad days. I’m allowed to be ok and fall off the wagon. I’m allowed to be ok and still want to be loved, to miss feeling someone by my side. In fact, I’m allowed to just be. And that’s ok. 

I’m going to try and choke down another slimy shake, you know, for health purposes!

Sparkle thoughts!!

Therapy is not NOT an option

I didn’t go to therapy today. I know I need to but I really just didn’t want to. I surmise that this is for many reasons. Such as…My new antibiotics are making feel I’ll, I’m wicked tired, I know we’re starting to discuss emotional regulation today and my father in law passed away yesterday. All of these are very good reasons (well except one) for not going to group today but what lies under all of them is the fact that I really just didn’t want to go. Now, first of all, I believe it is helping me, more often than not I practice my debt skills to get me through the day. I try to be mindful and shuffle through all the skillfully playing cards they give me in order to cope with the outside world. I do not however like the fact that I have to keep track of what I am doing or follow each class up with himework. It makes me feel like a child and not an adult who is profiting from a group scenario. I think that is one of the reasons I get so snarky about it sometimes. Anyway, I do feel like crap from a third round of antibiotics I’ve been put on and will be going back to sleep for at least a little while.

As I sit here in my dim room with my pumpkin spice frappe (it’s amazing be jealous) I am drawn to the fact that I want so desperately to clean it, yet I can’t find the energy to do it. Granted I haven’t been high on spoons and I use most of them on my kids but there’s more to it than that. You see my room isn’t a mess per say, there are just parts of it that have clutter or need sorted out. There’s a brand new bookshelf that needs to be filled with all the wonderous books that I have. Some whose covers have never yet been opened. I think a lot of this is like my mind, a huge space so full of stuff that only the carefulness can navigate and find there way thtough. Easy to see what’s there but to delve into the hidden spots takes a keen eye and an intelligent mind. Things are hidden away. Locked treasures that you need to find the key for. One of them being my heart. But that box has multiple keys.

Speaking of which, so I was on Whisper the other day, where I received a very nice compliment. I wasn’t sure what part on my post deserved such a compliment but I appreciated it non the less. This is what I wrote.

And in very unhappy news, I am still numb after the phone call I got from the ex husband that his step dad had passed. Now I don’t generally think most people stay close to their ex’s family after a divorce but his mom, step-dad and siblings remained family to me. We exchange cards, pics, calls and whatnot. Living on two different coasts has made it hard on visits and I now feel guilty that he never got to meet my pixie. I am just taken totally aback by the situation. So I will be strong and I will push through. Gotta plan a trip sometime.

My thoughts are churning out endless streams of who knows what at the moment, so I shall  attempt to shut them down and nap. My tip of the day. Self love. Do it!

Sparkle thoughts

Xox

I’m not like you but I LOVE me

c41819a16fa36c0755343a11910be47eI’m not like you, I never claimed to be. But you have no right to sit there and make assumptions about who I am because I don’t fit into the cookie cutter mold you have decided that life should be. I am rough around the edges. I say exactly what I mean. I can come off as abrasive and even a little mean, but at least I am always honest. My clothes are not name brand but I always look good wearing them. My face seems betrays my age, so I may look younger than you ever imagined and maybe even more than you feel. I had my kids at an early age, we are close and the tell me everything. I have my own personal sense of style, nothing you say or do is going to take that away from me. I have always marched to the beat of my own drum, the ink on my skin and the color in my hair does not make me less mature than you. I laugh when I find things funny, I don’t laugh when things you find amusing hurt other people. I do not tolerate ignorance, hatred of bullying and I will raise my voice up against them. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I have fought for everything that I have and I have done a fucking good job of making a life for myself. I curse like a sailor when it’s appropriate but I know when to keep my mouth shut. I will fight to the bitter end for something I believe in but no I won’t reprimand my child if they haven’t done something wrong in my eyes. I teach tolerance not hate. I teach acceptance not bigotry. I teach love not war. I don’t believe that there is a difference between you and me just because we come from different walks of life, I teach my children that all people are the same and I will not have you sully their innocence because you have a problem with me. My children as smart and funny, well fed and clean, well mannered and innocent…Just because you do not appreciate who I am as a human, neighbor, mother or any of the labels you have affixed me with you will NOT treat my child like a pariah. Mark my words darlin, karma is a bitch and I won’t be around when it comes back to bite you in your less that well-mannered ass. I am not like you and I will never be. And that is quite alright because I am perfectly happy LOVING me. 

 

Breakthrough Depression in Words

Walking down the shore at dusk, the air is soft and warm, the smell of the ocean is inviting. My mind begins to wander, thoughts of what is yet to come fill my mind and I sigh happily content with what the future may bring. And then it happens, I hear a little voice in my head and that voice isn’t talking to me. It is a distant memory that I have buried in the back of my mind and it is getting louder. One glance out to the ocean and I can tell it is uneasy. As the waves begin to bubble up my body tries to turn so that my steps take me further from the waters edge but I am frozen. I am frozen as the sudden wave comes crashing over me, threatening to pull me into the depths of the water. As the waves crest to crash again I hear that voice louder this time. The water stings my eyes and as I try to blink I see memories of the days in the past. The water is tugging at me and it knocks me to the ground. The swell happens again and the voices and the pictures and the memories flood over me as I cling to the sand holding on for dear life. Tears fill my eyes over and over again and the waves crash and I sob, nails digging into the shore unwilling to let myself be pulled into the chaotic whirlpool that is the angry water. The waves last an indeterminant amount of time, and the salt water mixes with my tears and I am no longer able to tell the difference. My body is sandy and soaking as I press myself to the sand begging the water to cease. Finally, battered and worn, I feel the warm air on my back again and I realize the water is further away than it was to start. The waves have calmed and my body is tired. I pull myself into a sitting position, knees to chest, arms wrapped around to warm myself and I watch as the sun finally sinks into the water. My eyes swollen from the memories they saw, my body tired from the fearsome fight and my mind full of what ifs. But I made it, and it did not pull me down this time. I am allowed to cry, I am allowed to feel sorrow and pain, I am allowed to fight through the pain all of it caused but I am NOT allowed to give up. I deserve the solace and peace of mind that comes with moving forward. I deserve the happiness that lays in front of me. I know the ocean has not finished its fight with me and I never know when it is going to try to pull me under again but I know that I will be ok. I’ve come so far and I am ok.

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Eliza Dushku is so hot

I had a long winded rant that I was going to go into, about life and why this week was going to be really stressful but I happen to be sitting in front of the TV and while the TV is generally not a distraction…Eliza Dushku sauntering on, during try-outs for Bring it On is just fucking distracting. Now I knew for a long time that I had weird feelings when it came to girls, that I wasn’t sure why I got that tingle in my belly when I had sleepovers just like when I played football with the boys but I never really thought of when I had a sexual awakening. Thinking about it now, I am not really sure I can pinpoint it, it had to have come sometime in high school, I mean that was when the experimentation (meaning kissing girls for fun and sport) really started. But Eliza Dushku…

I remember the first time I saw Faith on Buffy, there was something about the feisty, sparkly, sassy extra slayer that just got my juices flowing. Now, looking back on it I can totally tell you that I was highly attracted to her but then I think it was a mixture of that and wanting to be her. Which kind of ties into what I was thinking about before. What I have been thinking about for the past few days. What I want to be when I grow up. Now I am not still fantasizing about being Eliza Dushku…meeting her, yes but not being her. When I am talking about growing up, I am obviously and adult and I do realize that….and I am not talking about my career path. I am talking about the kind of person I want to see reflected back at me.

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I have taken time out in the past few days to reflect on things that have been going on around me, I have been told to take a deep breath and write what I am feeling if I come up to a blockage to write through it and keep writing till I felt comfortable. I fought against that notion until this very moment. I have only thought about writing for the past few days and here I am. Now all I have been feeling is that the winds of change are blowing and if I don’t put my umbrella in the draft I am going to miss my chance and life is going to start passing me by. I have been thinking about my plans for the future, for what life is going to be like in the next couple of months, weeks, days even. A lot of stuff is happening…So let’s catch up.

This week, the kiddos are gone on another mini vacay with their Nanny so I could get stuff done while they had fun. This week is looking towards being super stressful. Back into court with the ex, figuring out exactly what is going to happen with all kinds of custody things. Hoping it turns out fine but I feel like in some ways I am being set up. Seriously…who asks the main parent to pack specific full wardrobes for children for a ten-day vacation and returns the bags with the clothes untouched? Was it a test? T make sure they have clothes? My children are well taken care of, they are healthy, well fed, happy and well adjusted. They are going to be involved in music lessons, piano and violin, drama club, sports, gymnastics and Hebrew school this year. They have so much going on and I am not going to let ANYONE ruin that. So that is all going to be taken care of on Thursday, hopefully, it is all worked out amicably….Because I don’t want to have to go through a whole court battle, it won’t be ok for them and they are all that I care about.

After this mess is cleared up we continue to gear up for school, now it has hit me that I am really doing this on my own. Now I know I have been on my own for the past 7 months, trust me that hasn’t failed to fall on my shoulders but this is different. This feels new, like a new leaf, new responsibilities, and a whole new book. Maybe because it finally is a new year and as a Mom, the start of a new school year is the real beginning. Maybe because there are so many adventures on the horizon and I finally feel up to the task of doing it myself. Maybe because I have realized that I have the ability to do it on my own and it is actually a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. Either way, the new school year is a big deal and that is approaching rapidly.

Also my house, I am rearranging, throwing out, reorganizing and getting rid of the old. I am done with things that have bad memory and juju attached to them. I want my kids to look at things and smile. I want to curl up in my bed and have it be my sanctuary because I am a fucking princess. I don’t need a prince to tell me that.

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Then we come to my surgery, as of the 26th I will be making my last appointment with my surgeon before we schedule my gastric sleeve surgery. I am totally excited and totally terrified all at the same time. I can’t wait to continue on my journey with a new tool in my bag that will help me become a new, healthy me. I am terrified because I have actually become half convinced that I will not recognize myself anymore. I have so many thoughts in my mind about what is going to happen with the surgery that I give myself a headache. I know it it is going to amazing and wonderful and incredible. I also know it is going to be a huge lifestyle change, it is going to be a whole new me and I have to accept the fact that I will look different and I will feel different and I will get different attention. I have to be ok with that. I think it is the different kind of attention. I don’t know what it will be if it is going to happen and that is the biggest part that scares me. I think I am scared people won’t love me for who I am anymore but for what is on the outside. But I shouldn’t worry about it so much because I still know who I am and I love that person….Are you still keeping up? I think I lost myself about a paragraph ago.

So ahem….now that we have caught up on what will be going on I will leave you with this. I have finally got the courage under my wings, and a voice whispering in my ear, and a foot kicking me in the ass to really get on board with my book project. It is still in the futzing around stages right now but I can tell you it is going to be amazing. I can also tell you that I have been working on my bariatric blog and that has been going pretty fucking well too. I am going to go back to watching Eliza Dushku shaking her ass…and I am going to pick out a whole new bedroom set while doing so. Because I am starting a whole new book and this sassy slayer gets to start shaking it in style too.

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