Tag Archives: realization

Hypocrites and High Horses

Looks like I’m shaking off the dust of this rusty old blog once again…I’ve teetered on the decision to send a letter or email vs not saying anything and neither seems to sit well with me but what I’ve got to say has got to be said, just so I can let it go.

Dear You,

Once upon a time ago, about ten years ago actually, I met you with great angst. You made it very clear that I wasn’t wanted in this family nor would I be accepted easily by you. One thing you perhaps didn’t count on is that I rise to a challenge. So I set out to be accepted into the family, what I failed to realize were the unintended consequences of doing so. Over the years I have put you on a pedestal, for what reason? I’m not too sure but I did. I looked up to you and allowed myself to think and believe that you know better, live better, are better. I am learning to accept the fool in me. And that’s exactly what I was. A fool.

Over the years you and your husband and made comment after comment after comment about my life, my issues, my family, the way I live, the decisions I made/make, the way I parent, the way I talk to my husband, the relationship between me and my husband, really there has been nothing sacred that you two didn’t offer your “opinions” on or make some comment about. And I allowed it, worse even I believed it. I believed you two knew better. What a fucking crock of shit.

You are one of the worst hypocrites I have ever come across in my life. You talk to and about my husband, your brother-in-law, as though he is a shit human being and like he takes everything from you two. Open your fucking eyes. He asked his brother for help around his house. Big fucking whoop. That shouldn’t be something that is even used or held above someone’s head. One brother should be able to ask another brother for help without score being kept. The same person who you talk down to is also the same person who has rarely missed a child’s basketball game to which your husband didn’t go to. Why? Because he couldn’t “deal” with it or he was sitting at home sending naked pictures of his cock to strange women. Klassy. This “shit human” is also the same man who tore apart a bedroom so YOU could have somewhere to sleep while your husband was out fucking other women and refused to give you some much-needed space. Awesome. And again, same guy who has taken your kid camping, to parades, and has generally been there when your guy flakes out. But you won’t acknowledge that, you don’t give that to him.

You know, there are a long list of things I am finally, finally!, getting pissed off about but the one thing that sickens me to the actual core is how you’ve handled the last situation. Somehow, your husband was out F-U-C-K-I-N-G other women but somehow that’s my fault? Instead of being honest (whoa, what a concept) you are telling my nieces that *I* am to blame. I didn’t, and don’t, have control over where your man sticks his dick. I didn’t, and haven’t, offered undue “opinions or input” into your marriage. *I* wasn’t the cause of the infidelity but you are certainly comfortable placing blame. You know, I was there for your kid for years, especially when you couldn’t be. The Easter you went fishing or whatever with your Dad and your “man” was supposed to do Easter with us? Yeah, he dropped girlie off and we didn’t see him for three days….guess I had control of his junk then too, right? BUT…she still had Easter even though her Mom was away and her Dad was out trolling. You’re welcome. When you had to leave to be with your nephew, guess who still had a birthday party? And guess who did that? Your daughter has fabulous memories of camping, parades, family picnics, Easter dinner, Christmas dinner, and many more and guess who played a MAJOR factor in that? Yeah, that’d be me. I laugh a little now when I hear you’re doing family dinners and cooking Easter supper…all I can do is laugh a little. They say imitation is the best form of flattery…so I’m flattered.
You know, I’ve thought back to that day…you know the one? The one where I actually told you that your husband was sleeping with other woman and had continued to lie to you even after he said he didn’t. Yeah, that one…and I wonder if, knowing what I know now, would I have chosen differently. There is a part of me, a very mean part of me, that wishes I hadn’t told you. That part of me figures I should have just let it run its course and watched when it blew up in your face. I mean, he was pursuing women pretty aggressively and lots of people circling you were talking about it so it was only a matter of time. I kind of wish you hadn’t been given the opportunity to contain it and keep it private and I had the opportunity to watch those fake ass masks you two wear blow off BUT in the end, I am glad I told you. I know how important keeping your private affairs is to you, and I’m glad that you could do that to some extent and I’m glad you know the truth. So, in answer to myself, no I wouldn’t have done anything differently. If you two work things out, great. If not, that’s your story to write. Either way it goes, I’m kind of relieved, albeit saddened, that I’m out of it.

In the end of all of this, you know what irks me off the most? Is the fact that even if I said any of this directly to you, none of it would get through that thick skull of yours. You are incapable of considering my viewpoint and you have an incredible ability to disapprove of something I do, even when you’re doing it yourself. Brava on that talent by the way, it’s called double standards if you’re ever curious to learn more.

Anyway, there is a lot more that I can vent away about but really, what good is it going to do? I hope you learn how to be honest going forward, with yourself, your family, your spouse and everyone in your life. I know I’ve learned how and I’ll keep on being that way.

*dismounts my high horse*

Ciao.

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Head Housekeeping

I don’t know how many times I’ve typed a sentence only to lay on the backspace button and forever erase what I’d just written. Heck, I just did it five times. Every time I open this page I expect some rush of wisdom or witty banter to flow from my thoughts to my fingers and finally into the interwebz that will reap hoardes of viewers and build a healthy following of eager listeners. (I have mentioned my completely unrealistic expectations, right?) And every time I open this page and start typing, I get discouraged by the fact that I erase what I start to say a bunch of times before I actually start getting my thoughts out.

What does that say to me? I have ridiculous expectations and my brain is scattered. I need to start doing a little internal spring cleaning. Get my thoughts out. Get the stuff that keeps rolling around and around and around in my head, OUT! I need to finally embark on the next leg of my healing journey and that is exactly what I’m going to do.

As you may, or may not gathered, I am overweight…like way overweight. No, scratch that. I’m fuggin fat. And I’m sick of it so what do I do? I start planning. Plan, plan, plan and then do a little of the do-ing and then get pissed off because my plans are taking too long (I wasn’t joking about those expectations of mine) and then I self-sabotage and then BOOM! Back to square one. Yes, I do this often. Yes, I know what the definition of insane is. This time, I’m going to do things a little differently. See? Told you I know I’m being insane. This time, I’m not going to focus on my weight or my food or my exercise. This time, I’m going to focus on doing a little head housekeeping. I’m going to try and get my thoughts calmed down, my spirits lifted and remember that I am me. I am going to teach myself how to calm my expectations a little bit. I am going to be patient with myself. I am going to learn what works for me and my body. I am going to learn how to deal with my stress and focus on the undercurrents that may be leading to my sabotage. I know how to eat healthy, I know how to track my food and I know how to exercise. Clearly, there is more going on here than just that. I am holding onto this weight either literally or figuratively or both but regardless of what it is, I am going to get to the bottom of it. Starting now.

Goals for this week:

1) Do one meditation
2) Write at least 3 blog posts or journal entries
3) Find one positive thing about each day to celebrate and post on my facebook status (keeps me real, yo)

Good goals, right? I think so!

Nailing it
Nailing it

Come as you are…

“Come as you are, as you were,
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy.
Take your time, hurry up
The choice is yours, don’t be late.”

Ahh…the lyrics that shapped my early teenaged years. Good ole Nirvana. I can distinctly remember 13 year old me talking about how I could relate to the lyrics because I had grown so much over the years (yes, that was written while rolling my eyes). Boy do I wish I could go back and smack 13 year old me up side the head.

Certain things have been happening in my life that have really made me look at who I am and who’ve I’ve become. I spout off about the stories of who I used to be and the things I used to do but I rarely talk about who I am and I’ve come up with a theory on why. Basically, the person I used to be is familiar and I know what to expect when I behave in those ways but this new, more honest version of me is scary as hell.

The person I used to be smoked weed, got drunk, screwed around, lied, was manipulative, usually had an alterior motive but that is who I used to be. I didn’t really give a shit about anyone but myself. If I spoke up about something, it’s because I stood to gain soemthing. If I wanted to get high, get drunk, and/or have sex I’d just call up whoever would be willing and go to ‘er, the consequences never really mattered.

That’s all changed. I like to pin point my own extra marital affair as the piviotal point of change but I think it’s been happening for a long time before that, maybe I just started paying attention after that last encounter. Recently, I was faced with a decision to lie or tell the truth. Lying would have been so much easier, in the short term anyway. I could have preserved one relationship and stalled the strain on another but in the moment when I had the choice, I chose to tell the truth. I’ve asked myself why so many times in the past while because that’s not what I’d normally do. I’m glad I’ve had the wherewithall to question the why because I’ve been pleasantly surprised by my answers.

First, I’ve had the awesome opportunity to realize and celebrate the fact that my values and moral compass have shifted. I no longer identify with being a “cheater” or “cheap” or “easy” or “a homewrecker”. That’s just not who I am anymore. I’ve made peace with that part of me and it feels fantastic. I find myself getting defensive when someone says “once a cheater, always a cheater” because that’s not true, I am no longer a cheater nor will I ever be again.

I also don’t identify with being a liar. I am not completely innocent when it comes to lying and I can’t say I won’t tell a lie in the future but what I can tell you is that it doesn’t feel good when I do it. I feel the weight of guilt, frustration, worry and general distaste. In that moment of being able to chose, and knowing what the consequences of my choice were, I finally chose what was best for me. For my psyche. I may never repair those relationships and that’s a consequence of the situation but at least I know that I was honest and I’m not hiding anything. I’m not keeping secrets or protecting lies. I am free of that and that freedom is delicious.

Finally, I’ve been taking a good long look at why I’m drinking and why I have started smoking pot again *gasp* and really, the question there is why am I chasing that dragon? Why am I feeling the need to live a life that’s not a sober one and again, I think it’s to get away from facing up to what I already know. Things are different now. Pot is not my deal and when I think about hiding it from my kids and being paranoid that I’m going to get “caught”, it is clear to me that my conscience already knows what my brain has been slow in realizing. It’s just not for me. Drinking makes me sick and I do and say stupid things when I’m drunk. It’s also not for me. I have to be ready to let that go. I have to learn to be comfortable and confident in my sober skin and that’s what I’m going to learn to do. I want a healthy life and not one that is foggy and half-remembered.

Finally, I have been examining the relationships I have in my life and I’ve started to question why I’ve prioritized some unhealhty, one-sided relationships over ones that I felt comfortable in. I have distanced myself from so many of my friends over the last few years and I am ashamed of that. I have a lot of fence mending to do and hopefully those fences are strong enough to be mended. I have been chasing people who couldn’t give a damn if I was in their lives or not, bending over backward, trying to be everything to everyone and I have forgotten that to a handful of people I am enough for them without even having to try.

I am so blessed to have found the person that I love completely. I am so blessed to have healthy, interested, good people as children. I am blessed to have fences that need mending. I am blessed that I realized it before it was too late.

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Dawn of Realization

Have you ever heard the phrase “dawn of realization”?  I always thought that I knew what that meant.  And apparently I’ve been wrong for quite some time.  I know, I know, mark your calendars.  I clumped in “dawn of realization” with all those other hippy, dippy phrases people use to describe some epiphanic moment in their lives.  It’s not a hippy dippy phrase though…it’s an actual thing!

So, at the beginning of January, I jumped back on the Wonder Weightloss Wagon and so far, I have had success!  For the first time ever, the weight that I put on (after my dumbass drunken manouver stellar display of gymnastics resulting in two blown out knees) is melting off.  It. Feels. Awesome.  Naturally, whilst one is attempting to lose weight, food becomes a MAJOR focus in your life.  (Hint, we are passed the Iamcompletelyblindingmyselftinthedeadofnight point of my realization).  So, naturally, all I think about is food.  Bad. Idea.  When one who is addicted to (glimpse of realization) food, thinking about it incessantly, is kind of like putting a chunk (rock? block? hit?) of heiron in front of a skitzed out junkie and telling them to just look at it.  Riiiight.  When a foodunkie (yep, still making words up yo) thinks about food, they aren’t thinking about how nourishing that bunch of kale is going to be or fantasizing about how that quinoa is going to provide you with hunger-satisfying protein for the rest of the day; they are telling the voice screaming that the double chocolate-dipped triple big mac you’re staring down is bad for them to SHUT THE @#$% UP! 

A foodunkie is in love with food like a 15 year old girl is in love with their first boyfriend.  It’s obsessive.  It’s all-consuming.  It’s unhealthy.  Food is not something that we should be using to occupy our time, fulfill wants, or to fix some emotional problem we don’t feel like looking at.  Except that is exactly what’s going on.  Food is fuel.  Pure and simple.  It will only make you feel better if you’re hungry.  Otherwise, that “good” feeling you’re expecting is really guilt, shame and defeat.  I’ve decided (which can be interpreted as the first twinges of twilight) that I need to break up with food.  And no, I’m not going to go on a hunger strike or stop eating but I am going to stop thinking about it.  I am determined to think about food when I’m hungry and it’s time to eat (and apparently while I blog).  Then I will be faced with a choice.  Then it comes down to healthy choices.  (oh, look at the pretty pink my realization is turning)…

So, in thinking of food and how I think about food, I realized that this really is the end of the line for my eating habits.  It really is like a bad breakup.  I thought to myself, this is a “for life” thing.  This isn’t a journey where I’ll get to my goal weight and be all like BOOM!  Break out the Burger King and double dip that @#$% in double chocolate.  Why would I waste all of that effort?  This was really my dawn of realization.  Basically, it comes down to this. My health, my nourishment, my body and my self image are worth fighting for.  It’s a looooong, up hill battle.  There will be times when I’m tired, discouraged and pissed right the hell off and I acknowledge that BUT there will also be times when I’m super motivated, when I achieve success, when I get to buy that gorgeous shirt because it @#$%ing fits!  There will be a time when I look at the lines in my shoulders and be happy and there will be a time when this conversation leaves my daily dialogue.  It will become my new way of life.

So bare with me while I’m inconsisten in blogging, when I rant about not being able to eat and drink my face off AND achieve my goals and while I work through all the issues surrounding how I became a foodunkie. 

WTF?!?!!?  I was kidding about the chocolate dipped burger
WTF?!?!!? I was kidding about the chocolate dipped burger

Thanksgiving

Every year we give Thanks usually around a big dinner table, surrounding by those we love.  It’s an appropriate time to give thanks.  There is a lot to be thankful for.

This year, I want to give Thanks now.  And every day it seems that I am becoming ever grateful for my life and those around me.  For a couple of weeks, I had an intense bout of jealousy.  I was jealous for what other people do.  What other people have.  The lives they lead.  The bodies they’re in.  It was ridiculous and necessary all at the same time. 

Why was my jealousy ridiculous?  Because I have a fabulous life.  My husband is one of the most loving, adoring men I have ever met.  He is so patient with me and puts up with so much of my crap sometimes I’m amazed he doesn’t up and leave.  I am truly blessed to have him as my partner and my lover and my life.  I have beautiful, amazing children.  These kids are good kids.  And that’s not just my bias as a Mom coming out either.  People who spend time around my kids will tell you the same thing.  They are well mannered, polite, interesting, cool people.  I have friends who care.  People who care about me and are there to celebrate, cry and rejoice with me.  I have a job.  Maybe not the ideal one but it’s a job.  It affords me the ability to pay my mortgage, put food on the table and survive in this world.  I have health.  I am not full of cancer, I can breathe, my skin isn’t fighting against me.  I am healthy.  I have a lot to be grateful for and thankful for in my life.  These are all reasons why my jealousy was ridiculous.

Why was it necessary?  Because it made me realize how much I have to be grateful for.  If I cry, I have someone who pulls me close and kisses my forehead.  If I’m afraid, I have someone who holds my hand and tells me it’ll be ok.  I am able to hug and kiss both of my children every day and every night.  I can’t count on both of my hands the number of people I could invite to a party or call up on the phone and all of those people would genuinely be happy to hear from me.  I would say I live a priviledged life.

So what if I’m not living on the coast of Greece.  So what if I can’t buy every new toy.  So what if I’m not thin.  When I’m snuggled up with my family watching yet another animated movie, or when I see my daughter so proud because she just treated her parents to dinner, when I got to experience the excitement of my family when we saw the sold sign on our house…there is nothing in this world that would make me happier.  In the end, I’m thankful that I was able to realize how much joy, richness and fulfillment I have in my life.  I’m thankful for having so much to be thankful for.