It's been a while, huh?

Welp, I kind of abandoned blogging for a long while.  I don't have any specific reason, but I am going to try to return to it, since it seemed to help me get my head clear.

What's been happening in my world?  First and foremost, I changed jobs.  Thank god.  Seriously, my old job was making me a stress bunny, cranky, and unhealthy.  I was not making time for workouts, I was stress eating every single day, and I was just straight up unhappy.  Another opportunity presented itself, and I flung myself at it like without hesitation.

However, in that process, there were all sorts of emotions around leaving the people I have worked with for ten years.  So I mostly soothed myself with food and wine.  Well done, eh?  :D

Now that I've settled in to my new job a bit, I'm finding myself again.  I have some great perks at this job that are workout related, and my new boss is incredible.  Getting fit and active (again) is much easier here.  I'm working out with a personal trainer twice a week and doing yoga once a week at work.  Winner!

So let's talk about what spurred me to come back to blogging.  I've been self-reflecting a lot the last week or so.  Then this weekend I binged.  I could kind of feel the low level anxiety creeping up on me all week, and I wasn't able to put my finger on the problem.  I'm still not entirely sure.  What I do know is that a conversation with my hubby about my old job (he still works there) pushed me over that edge, and things got out of hand yesterday and again today.  :(  I, of course, don't feel good about it now.  I know that food is not the answer, and sometimes I even think it in the moment, but that doesn't seem to stop me all the time.  I was doing well with it earlier in the week, kind of stepping back from myself to observe the thought patterns and behaviors.  As I look back on the last 3-4 days right now, with my 20/20 hindsight goggles, I can totally see the wave...  let's use this sciency thing I found on the interwebs:

Ok.  I'm putting on my professor outfit right now, so be prepared for this educational piece.

So, as I look back, I can see that I had been doing well, riding along, fairly calm, at sea level.  Some minor waves, but nothing I couldn't ride.  For whatever reason, one of those got deeper.  As I was watching myself, I was descending down into the trough of the wave.  I hung out there for a bit and then started the journey up to the crest.  I could feel that build up as it was happening, and was able to stay afloat for a while...  but the discussion about my old job was apparently what pushed me to the crest of the wave, where I just couldn't take it anymore.  I then chose to use food to get the wave to break.  *sigh*

Knowing that this is a cycle, something that will happen again, I'm really focusing on being more self aware so that I can ride minor waves, keeping the wave height from getting so high that I turn to the good ol' habit of binge eating to break the crest of the wave.  I need to focus on making my wave frequency lower. I was really handling it well (relatively) for a while, and a bigger wave kind of snuck up on me.

My therapist gave me some book titles to consider reading, and I've started one of them.  I'll talk more about them in a later post, but so far I can highly relate to what I'm reading.  I want SO BADLY to get the recovery phase of this eating disorder.  I'm also trying to own this.  I do have an eating disorder.  It's not anorexia, or bulimia, but it's Binge Eating Disorder (BED).  I'm talking a lot about my struggles with some online friends in a forum I frequent, and I'm trying to keep this at the forefront of my consciousness, because it helps me be more present and be able to ride that wave better.

I'd ideally like to use this blog as a bit of a journal, not so much chronicling what I've done or eaten, but what I'm observing and learning.

Coming out of a daze

I have had a rough month or so.  I mentioned the death of my brother's friend and comrade, and that seemed to affect me in a way that sent me into a bit of a spiral of sadness, anger, self-loathing, blah blah blah.  Good times.

I finally feel like I'm coming out of the daze.  I'm starting to feel like a normal person again.  I talked a lot to my therapist about stuff, and I think I was able to recognize some things that triggered my feelings and behaviors.  I was also able to make some changes in some things I was doing on a daily basis, and they have resulted in positive improvements.  I'm not going to go into them too much, because they are relationship oriented, and that is something I'm not really into discussing publicly.

I absolutely self-medicated with food when I was in a bad place.  Old habits jumped up and punched me in the face.  I basically stopped exercising.  I stopped doing anything good for me.  It was rough all around.  I gained some weight that I don't care for, and my fitness levels really took a big hit.

However, I've come out on the other side with some renewed faith in myself and some interesting perspectives.  I can look back (oh, hindsight, you are so clear) and see how self-destructive my behaviors were.  I've also been able to see that even tho I had a rough few weeks, I DID come out ok on the other side.  And I've also found some focus.

I've spend an ungodly number of hours beating myself up, and I've vowed to stop that.  I'm doing more reading (something that I love), I'm focusing on being stronger physically (by lifting weights), and getting my endorphin fix (short runs and spin class).  While I was in my self-hate spiral, I essentially stopped sewing and creating.  I've been much more productive in that realm lately, and it feels GOOD.

In other news, I'm currently obsessed with deciding on my next tattoo.  I want something that means something to me, and that is some sort of a reminder of this journey I'm in the middle of right now (how cliche am I?).  I need it to be colorful and bright, and important.  So as I scour websites like Pinterest and F*ck Yeah Tattoos, I'm struck by amazingly original some folks are with their ink.  And as someone with creativity practically oozing out of me, I see no reason that I shouldn't have something beautiful, colorful and meaningful on the canvas I live in.

I have lots to talk about nowadays (blogging was something I also clearly did not do during this past month, which is so dumb, because it helps me get shit out of my head), so hopefully I get back here tomorrow to talk about what I'm working on this week from therapy.

Loss

A good friend of my brother and sister-in-law was killed in Afghanistan this past weekend.  He piloted the Chinook helicopter that was shot down carrying 31 armed forces.  He leaves behind a 10 year old son, a wife of about four years, and so many comrades, friends, family, and loved ones that it's astounding.  

Personally, I only met him a couple times.  But I felt like I knew him a bit more thru my brother, sister-in-law, and mom.  They all knew him well, and are reeling from this loss.  My brother and SIL served with him overseas when they were deployed nearly a decade ago, and those friendships have been so rock solid.  That whole group of soldiers has remained close, and has been there for each other constantly.  

My heart breaks into pieces when I think of his son.  Ten years old, and just days away from his dad coming home on leave.  My heart breaks when I think of his wife, who now has to face her future without the love of her life.  

This fucking war we have going on is robbing families of their loved ones non-stop.  I don't know what the answer is, but things like this sadden me immensely.  

I feel weird feeling sad about the death of a young man I barely knew, but then again I know the impact he had on three of the people I love most in this world.  

I'm not sure what all even want to accomplish in this post.  Just getting thoughts out of my head, I guess. I know that this is going to impact my family members for years to come.  I don't know how to be there for them...   I ache inside for them and the family of the deceased.  

Just a pic

Please.

Books I want to read

I'm a reader.  Always have been.  I am always reading SOMETHING, and my love for my Sony Reader is in no small part due to the fact that I can carry hundreds of books with me AT ALL TIMES.

Being a reader, it's probably no wonder that I read a billion blogs.  I recently ran across the blog Back To Her Roots, which I can relate to in so many ways.  I've been devouring her older posts, reading, nodding my head all "preach it sister!", etc.  Today I read her post where she is giving away some books written by healthy bloggers, as part of her blogiversary celebration.  Of course, I've entered the contest to win (this blog post is part of my entry!), and I'm really looking forward to reading Operation Beautiful by blogger Caitlin Boyle of Healthy Tipping Point.  I'm excited about all the books, but this one really speaks to the stuff I'm working on right now.  Truth be told, if I don't win the contest, I'm probably going to buy it myself.

I'm also getting ready to read Bossy Pants by Tina Fey.  I love her.  In fact, it's on my reader, awaiting my wandering eyes.

I sat next to a gal on an airplane a few weeks ago.  She was reading The Lolita Effect:  The Sexualization of Young Girls and What We Can Do About It.  I'm going to read this one shortly as well.  Since I have three nieces, I care about this.  A lot.  As a feminist, I care about this. A lot.

I read on the treadmill using my Reader.  That is pretty much the best way to run on the treadmill.  Ever. I can pass the time quickly while getting sucked into a book.  I mostly read fiction there.  I love funny chick lit books.  Not sappy shit (no Nicholas Sparks for me).  But stuff like Janet Evanovich, Kate Collins, and Mary Kay Andrews, etc.  Funny, some romance, some mystery, and just fun reads.  I always say I'm going to make myself get on the treadmill to read, but let's be honest...  I'm not going to restrict my reading.  No frickin' way.

To tie this post together nicely, several years ago, when my oldest niece was probably in first grade, my SIL gave me something she had drawn & written at school.  On it, she had drawn two people, one big, one small (her and me), holding hands.  Below it, she wrote "I want to be like my Ant."  Which, in and of itself, is heart-melting.  So her teacher asked her why she wanted to be like her Aunt.  Her response?  "She likes to read a lot and ride her bike."  Be still my beating heart.  If there were life lessons I would want to impart upon the impressionable kids in my life, reading and being active are two of the top ones. ::insertloveysmileyhere::

Inspiration from my soulmate

Have I talked about my soulmate?

No, not my husband.  He's a different kind of soulmate.  The kind I get to get dirty with.  Which is kind of confusing, since I got dirty with my other kind of soulmate this weekend at the Warrior Dash.  But I'm talking about different dirties and different soulmates here people.  Keep up, FFS!

:D

So anyhoo, my hubs and I are soulmates in the doin'-it-like-bunnies sense.  I started to type out thar the is my soulmate in the romantic sense, but we are less romantic and more smart-assed, so that didn't sound right.

But let's talk about my other soulmate.  The hubs actually dubbed her as my soulmate, so I don't feel bad about this.

Have you ever read Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maude Montgomery?  Well, if you haven't, the rest of this may not make any sense at all.  And you should go check that book out from the library.  Seriously.  Go do it right now.  It's one of the best books ever, and it has a big giant place in my childhood and heart.  I have read that book and seen the PBS movies MANY times.  It's the only book I can think of where the movie version didn't suck donkey balls.  In fact, I read the book not too long ago, because I had given a copy to my oldest niece for Christmas, and it reminded me how much I wanted to read it again.

Go read this book.  NOW.

So, in this book, a young orphan named Anne (spelled with an E, thankyouverymuch) comes to live with an unlikely couple of folks, thru an unusual set of circumstances.  Her neighbor across the way, Diana, is a girl her age, but very much (physically) unlike her.  They meet and instantly become fast, lifelong friends.  Anne refers to herself and Diana as kindred spirits.  They knew right away that they were meant to be friends.  And they remained friends forever.

I knew instantly that Bobbi Jo and I were going to be best buds.  We just clicked.  And of course, I, the nerdy bookworm,  thought of Anne of Green Gables and her kindred spirit Diana.  I just couldn't help but think of how Bobbi Jo is my kindred spirit, because we share so many interests, and she is just easy to be with.  As I was trying to relate this to my hubby one day, he was giving me this confused look, because as a dude, he did not grow up reading Anne of Green Gables.  In fact *gasp* he had never even heard of it.  Sinner.  Anyhoo...  he started referring to Bobbi Jo as my soulmate after I gave him this long drawn out description of her being my kindred spirit.

So after all of that, I wanted to talk about how she has inspired me lately.  She is fabulous.  And I love being in her presence, because I feel normal and less weird than usual.  We both like to run, we both used to be much heavier, we both like to read, we are both crazy about NFL football, and we just like the same stuff.  We laugh at the same stuff.  We married guys who are scarily similar.  And here's the kicker...  I "met" her online.  On a running forum.  And the first time I met her for reals, it was like we'd been besties since childhood.  We've now been to each others' homes for long weekends, done a few races together, and we text, email, and facebook all the time.  At the risk of sounding like a total stalker, she's just fucking fabulous.  And I want to make her stuff like friendship bracelets and inspirational flat rocks.  I'm not sure what's wrong with me.

Wonder what the hell I was talking about?  Tada.  Inspirational Flat Rocks.

This weekend, while we were just hanging out after the Warrior Dash, she cooked some incredible, healthy, fresh food for our meals.  It was amazing.  She took the time to make this nutritious food.  And when someone cares enough to make fabulous, nourishing food for me, I get all warm and fuzzy inside.  I've gotten ridiculously lazy when it comes to food lately.  There is no reason for it, other than I guess I want things to be easy & fast all the time.  But the amazing food she made was simple and delicious, and it reminded me of how much I used to enjoy cooking and trying new things.  

I can do that.  Why can't I?  I don't have kids, I have the time.  And investing time in ME, with nourishing real foods is an investment that will pay back a billion times over.  So I'm going to take a page out of my soulmate's book, and work on taking more time to cook nourishing, healthy meals for myself and my hubby.  Tonight I marinated and grilled chicken breasts, steamed edamame, and baked some potatoes.  Nothing crazy or gourmet, but nourishing, fresh, healthy, and tasty.

What a concept.

Warrior Lessons

I did the Warrior Dash today in KC.

Oh my, did I ever have lessons to take away from this puppy.

First, I learned that I am not a fan of heat, humidity and hills.  The three Hs of Hell.  Frickin' A.  I never run outside in the heat, and we just don't have humidity in Colorado.  And in order to find a hill to train on, I have to actually drive.into.the.mountains.  Needless to say, this wasn't my greatest performance.  But in reality, I wasn't trying to set any land speed records.  I had some moments of doubt about even finishing, due to feeling pretty nauseous and fainty.  But that was close to the end, so I finished.  The best part, hands down, was the ending mud pit.  It was cool, compared to the oppressive heat.  Plus, I mean, who doesn't love to get filthy?

Me (on the right) and my soulmate Bobbi Jo, the aftermath

Second, I learned that I am doing the comparison thing in my head NON-STOP.  I couldn't seem to stop the annoying conversation in my head.  Am I fatter than that girl?  I look like a giant lardo compared to the two other girls I'm running with.  Do I look like that?  Why can't I look like THAT?

Third, I learned that nothing, and I mean nothing, feels as good as that shower did today.  Holy moly was I dirty.  It took some major scrubbing to get my feet clean.

Fourth, I learned that this was hard.  Way harder than I expected.  What this means is that I will not get talked into a much longer version of this sort of thing by my crazy-ass brother.  No f-ing way.

My crazy-ass brother, bravehearting it

Fifth, I learned that I want to do more races with my brother.  Even tho he runs nearly literally twice as fast as me.  It's just a fun bonding experience.

Ok, I'm off to try and not over-analyze all the pics, to determine how terrible I look.  :D

Must be present to win

I just bought this necklace from Lulu Bug Jewelry on Etsy.

I love it.  It speaks to me.  I've really been failing at being present lately.  I was out searching the interwebs for ideas for my next tattoo, something that I can see that reminds me to STOP and be in the moment.  Be present.  To win.  While this is only a necklace, it makes me all happy on the inside.  I'm still in search of my tattoo, but this will hold me over for a bit until I settle on the right thing.

I'm relieved to be seeing my therapist again on Wednesday.  I'm IN NEED.  In need of refocusing, refreshing, maybe some confessing, definitely some reflection, and some evaluation.  I look forward to the feeling I get when I leave there, of hope, of lightness, and of being ok.

I've been struggling, without a doubt.  I'm eating too much, too often, and making unstellar choices.  I'm tracking my food intake again, simply because I'm eating too much.  Not a ton of binge eating, although it has not been completely absent.  But mindless eating.  Not present eating.  Awareness is helpful to me, and tracking can kind of help me with that.  As I've been tracking the last few days, I've realized how I let the days get away from me, food wise.  And there is a part of each day that I can identify as a part that was eating for a reason other than hunger:  boredom, anxiety, procrastination, sadness, nervousness, and frustration.  The log is actually helpful in identifying some of this after the fact.

How should I be wrapping up blog posts?  I always feel like they stop abruptly!  I need to work on this!

Hellllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo?

So, I've, ahem, been absent a bit.  Life, right? 

There has been lots going on in my little world.  My therapist was on vacation, and then I was gone, so I haven't been in three weeks!  It will be nice to talk to her again next week.  I have had ups and downs over the last three weeks, for sure.  What has been crystal clear to me during this time is how much more aware of my mental state than I used to be. Some examples...

So this past weekend I went to Washington DC with my amazing sister in law and my niece (R).  R was born with a vascular disorder called CMTC, which is very rare and can range from entirely cosmetic to seriously debilitating.  There are only about 100 (I think) diagnosed cases in the WORLD.  The doctors who have begun really working on this, researching the genetics, etc are based in The Netherlands.  They come to America once a year for a conference, and so that the kids who have this disorder can be seen by the doctor.  For the past two summers, my brother & SIL have taken her there, and it has been immensely helpful to them.  This year, my brother could not go (because of an Army thing) so they asked me to go in his place.  Of course, I was beyond thrilled to go, to be able to help, and to get to spend quality time with my girl.

So last Thursday, I flew to Wichita.  The plan was for me to pick R up from daycare and then hang out with her until her mama got home from work, and my brother got home from the business trip he was on.  Off I went to get her at daycare.  When I got there, she saw me at the door and came running over, all excited, saying "Aunt Corty!" over and over.  My heart melted.  Again.  This kid.  I swear, she gets me.  So I swooped her up and we took off to hang out for the afternoon.  We stopped at Daddy's Store (QuickTrip) to get her a Pink (watermelon slushie) and she told me all about not touching The Hot (the racks of hot dogs, which are hot) and how Daddy drinks coffee, but she doesn't.  And I shouldn't.  And Mama doesn't.  :D 

R was super excited to take me to her house, where she promptly stripped down to her pull-up and started putting on dress up clothes.  After I talked her into going potty, she changed into her Dora panties.  And that is pretty much all she wore until she put her jammies on that night.  :D  Oh, and sometimes a veil or skirt from the dress up box.  We watched some Disney, played, ran around the basement screaming our fool heads off (me with a bright gold skirt on my head, kind of like hair) until her Mama got home.  Then Mama joined us with a black & blue skirt on her head. 

I seriously can't even put into words how lucky I am to have this kid in my life.  She and I had such fun.  She says so many new words, and I swear she learns new ones every day. 

The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind of traveling, which can be tricky with a two year old, as you might imagine.  She did so well on the planes and in the airport.  The next day was the conference, and she saw the CMTC doctor.  Thankfully, he feels like her case is mild and will likely be only cosmetic.  I could have kissed that man.  After lunch, R and I tried to nap up in our hotel room (I kind of drifted off while we watched The Little Mermaid, but R wanted no part of napping).  Then we went to the pool.  Twice.

Why twice, you ask?  Well... 

Trip #1:  We get all dressed in our suits, and hers has floaty things in it, so that she will float.  Pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.  I carry her down there, and we get in by the stairs.  She does good for a bit, until she decides that she doesn't want me to help her, touch her, anything.  "I do it!"  "I got it!" amidst many, many tears.  Or course, being the responsible adult, I could not just let go of her in the pool, so I had to set her on the side, where she put her head down on the ground and CRIED and CRIED.  And then I cried, because apparently I cannot help it.  :D  I tried to comfort her, and eventually picked her up to go back up to the room.  Thankfully we were the only ones in the pool area. 

We get back to the room, and she is still sobbing.  You know that kind of sobbing where you have to really catch your breath....  She then says "Swimming Pool!" and wants to go back.  I'm like no fucking way (in my head).  So I suggest we try to lay down, watch a movie, potty, play in the bathtub, anything else.  Nope.  Not interested!  So I decided to take a different angle...   I talked to her about how if we went back, she had to let me help her and hold her hand, because I didn't want her to get hurt.  We talked a bit, and she calmed down, so we headed back to the pool.

Trip #2:  This went much better.  She jumped in to me from the side, made friends with another little girl, and we stayed there for quite a while.  We sang Ring Around the Rosy many times and, and the other little girl shared her Little Mermaid toys with R, so it was much, much better.  Her Mama joined us, and the three of us had a grand old time.  We all left without tears this time.  WINNER! 

So every time we talked about when we got home and I had to go back to Colorado, I got all frickin' teary.  I must have cried a dozen times while I was there, about not being near them, about worrying for R and my brother, about blah blah blah blah.  Sheesh.  I'm a damn wreck.

But all in all, I had a super fabulous time, and I am really glad I got to hang out with R.  It's so important to me that I be a big part of her life, and getting to do stuff like this matters SO much.

Creative ADD

So, I don't mean to make light of ADD.  Honest.  But sometimes I feel like I have Creative ADD.  I want to do so many things.  I want to learn how to do graphic design, how to design websites, how to make cool jewelry out of stuff like this, make 8 zillion different bags, make art to hang on the walls, etc...   Sometimes I just sit on the bed in my guest room, which is constantly covered with piles of fabric (until I have a guest, then I reluctantly stuff it in the closet), and I look at them, put them together, trying to imagine how they will look together in a bag, or a skirt, or hung on the wall in some pretty way.  I move it all around, wander from room to room, picking up fabrics that are still on my dining room table (my fabric cutting table), taking them into my sewing/guest room, moving it all around again...  over and over.

Sometimes I feel like get paralyzed by my creative ADD.  Like, there is so much I want to do, and so many different colors to put together, in so many ways, and I just can't pick one to do.

I have a bag mostly cut out right now, and I have 8 orders pending...  I'm waiting on some fabrics for all of them (mail = super fun!), so I can't really do anything on them, but I want to, but I can't, and instead I want to put a bag together for me (a shoulder sling).

I put my website up yesterday (Wyrillco Creations) and since then I've had 5 orders!!  Holy crapinoly.

Ambivalent. Blah. Completely unexcited about anything.

That's pretty much how I've been feeling the last couple days.  *Sigh*  I literally sighed one of those woe-is-me sighs when I typed that.

I gotta snap myself out of this funk.  It's affecting multiple areas of my life, including my relationship.  Yesterday my hubby said I was being non-responsive, and I really didn't see it...  I don't think he's making it up, so I suspect that non-responsive is probably accurate.  That doesn't mean I am sitting around like a zombie, just that I'm not myself.  Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I'm pretty bouncy, annoyingly upbeat, and a chatter box.  Not lately, I guess.

The funk, well, it hasn't been good for anything as far as I can tell.

What do you do to get out of a funk?

I think some of this stems from my severe lack of interest in my job.  I'm applying for other jobs, but I am  either doing a crappy job of showing what I do, and can do, or I'm not very marketable.  Which is pretty much the most depressing thing in a long time.  GAH.

Seriously, I need to knock this Poor-Me bullshit off.  It's getting old!

It's so frickin' dark in my house.

The obvious solution is to turn on lights.  But I'm all ANXIOUS and FIDGETY right now and I'm more than a tiny bit afraid to get up, because I feel like I'll be stuffing food in my mouth if I do!!  Right now I'm "safe" here on the couch covered up in a blanket, tucked in with my laptop.

I used my therapist's trick of working backwards to figure out what's got me all a'twitter.  I didn't eat enough during the day (unconsciously trying to be "good" for reasons I'll talk about in a second) and was fucking ravenous when I got home.  So we opted for a frozen pizza, right at the intersection of tasty & fast.

And can I just rant for a bit about how much I don't like yogurt, but really want to?  GAH.  I keep buying the shit, thinking I'll eat it for a filling snack in the afternoon, and then I open up my cute little purple insulated lunch sack and stare in at my fancy lemon chobani and think "Meh" and instead eat a fucking roll of lifesavers?  REALLY???

The lifesavers were not in my cute little purple insulated lunch sack, mind you.  They were on the breakroom table. Free candy is not a battle I win often.

For the record, I'm writing my way thru this anxiety wave right now.  It will subside.  Or so they tell me.

So I have been unconciously trying to be good.  At least that is my deduction, based on my behaviors today.  I didn't eat enough today.  Then I got the big fat hunger binge.  We are running a weight-loss challenge at work.  And by WE, I mean ME.  PressurePressurePressurePressure.  Lots of negative talk about weight and appearance and stuff like that.  It's eating away at my brain!!  Like a god damned zombie.  So, my job = a zombie.  I knew it.

Oh, and my hubby just came upstairs and turned on a light for me.  This is why I love him.

Mystery solved.

I was unsure what was going on for me the last few days.  I went to therapy last night, and we used a really simple technique of walking backwards from the binges to figure it out.  And lo & behold, I was able to CLEARLY see at least a part of what was going on.

It is amazing to me how easy it was to see what was going on when we walked thru it like that.  I was all "Oh, well that does make sense..."  D'oh!  I'd identified a tiny piece of one of the mindless eating sessions (it wasn't necessarily a binge, but probably only because what I was eating only came in a pack of two, instead of a bag-ful) as being a Check-Out binge, because as I was licking the chocolate off the Reese's PB Cup wrapper, it was like I almost woke up out of a bit of a fog.  I thought "Oh shit, I just did that."  If I had figured out what was going on about three minutes sooner, I could have avoided it, but alas, I'm a work in progress.

Talking about this stuff, saying it out loud...  it's amazing how much better I felt last night when I left my therapy appointment.  My therapist is going on a two week vacation at the end of the month, and I had asked her if she had any ideas of some things I could read while she's gone, so I can stay focused.  She asked me what kind of thing I thought I might like to read, and then gave me some examples.  Some people like memoirs of people in recovery, others like metaphorical stuff.  I'm definitely in the memoir camp, but she gave me an example of some of the metaphorical stuff, and it rang SO true...  A woman had described her eating disorder as a river, raging away, taking her down a path she didn't want to go, out of control...  and she equated her therapist to the rock she was clinging to in order to NOT GO down that path.  Um, yeah.  That is pretty accurate!  While I didn't physically accost my therapist with a hug in that moment, I can't say that the desire wasn't there.  I'm an odd duck, I know.

Ups and Downs.

Last week = Up.

Last couple days = Down.

I'm not sure why.  I need to give this some thought before I go to therapy tomorrow night.  Two days in a row with lovely binges.  Good times.  My tummy literally hurts right now.  Why, oh why, do I do this?

I'm disturbed by some stuff right now, around body image, mostly.  I'm also up a few pounds, and right now I feel particularly crappy about myself.

Ah, well.  It's time to get to bed.  Better days ahead, I'm just sure of it.

Kind of amazing, really.

Last night was therapy again.  I'm amazed at the things that I realize while I'm sitting there on that couch.  Crazy.

So we started out our conversation like normal...  How was the past week?  The night before I'd been thinking about how not-bad it had been.  I had that evening of homesickness, where I literally told myself to ride the wave of emotions.  And aside from that, it has been a really non-obsessy week.  And even then, when I was sad and anxious, I recognized the feelings and the desire to eat to make them go away.

It is empowering to reflect and see how far I've come.  EMPOWERING.  I have known I was making some progress for a while, but it's really hard to gauge when you are in the middle of it.  But as we talked last night, I told her how little I'd worried about food, aside from what I imagine is normal...  What's for dinner tonight?  Do I have enough granola bars to pack lunches this week?  OH YUM, CHERRIES!  But all of that felt non-invasive and it didn't threaten to take over the sane part of my brain.

As I was telling her this, I then mentioned that this past week I had really come to some revelations.  I realized I truly do want to quit my day job and do something, anything, creative.  I want to make my bag business more successful.  I want to take classes to learn more graphic design and more web design.  I want to take these things that are my God-given gifts and DO SOMETHING with them.  If I could find a way to make a living doing this sort of thing, I would be so frickin' ecstatic.  That's not to say that any career is going to be perfect and completely devoid of boring, stupid stuff.  Of course not.  Even I am not so Pollyanna Sunshine that I think that.  And I hear that I'm quite the Pollyana!  :D

But if I were to change my day job from something that sometimes allows me to do something quasi creative about 30% of the time (MAX) to something that was only 30% bullshit, how amazing would that be?

Anyhoo, I digress.  After I talked about all of this, she asked me if I thought it was a coincidence that during a week where food did not preoccupy my mind all the time, I was having some big realizations, and that I was seeing things like this.  It was like I was struck dumb.  I'm like "Oh.  Huh.  How about that?"  So after I regained my powers of speech (don't worry, it never takes long) we talked about how one good week does not mean that they will all be this way...  I know she doesn't want me to set myself up for disappointment if I have a meltdown or binge my face off in the near (or distant) future.  We talked about taking steps forward, and how often they require some steps back to really GET things.  And that is ok.  Really and truly ok.

Amazing, huh?  When I cleared some shit out of my head, I was able to do something more productive and positive.  Who'd a thunk it?

Oh, and prepare yourself for another soap-box type rant tomorrow.  I'm all mellow right now, so I don't want to work myself up before bed.  But a rant, she's a comin'.  I'm going to talk about how we, as women, spend a lot of time tearing each other down, and how it's GOT TO STOP.

Seriously.  Tomorrow.  I gotta stop already or I'll be all "And then...!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" to my poor DH as I go on and on about this while we lay in bed.

I want to quit my day job.

Seriously.  I reallllllllly want to quit.  Not because I hate it (it's ok, it pays the bills, and I really dig about 40% of it).  But because I badly want to be my own boss, make my own schedule, and do something creative.

Back when I was in Jr. High and High School, the teachers were always having us take aptitude tests.  They were supposed to help you figure out what to be when you grow up.  Without fail, mine all said I should be a graphic designer (or something similar) or a lawyer.  An odd coupling, you might think.  But I'm ultra creative and I like to argue.  So if you know me, those make sense!  I'm starting to look back at those silly aptitude tests and wonder if they weren't righter (I'm just sure that is a word) than I thought.  While I'm definitely not jonesing for 3 years of law school anymore, my heart is crying out to do something creative for a job.

Over the last week, I had some breathing room at work.  What that means is that the day to day bullshit slowed down enough at times that I got to work on the part of my job I love.  That would be Wellness, which has been a passion of mine since I lost weight about 7 years ago.  But on top of the passion for the SUBJECT, I also get to create.  I come up with new ideas for programs, and within the programs I get to design flyers, materials, and write up what are hopefully light hearted, fun messages about our programs.  This past week I've been working on a packet of materials for our upcoming weight loss/maintenance challenge.   To do this, I not only create the curriculum for the 10 week challenge, with a different topic or focus each week, but I get to layout the pages of this packet.  That means finding fun fonts, creating a logo for the challenge, designing the pages, etc.

As I've been doing this, I have been having fun at work.  I am excited about what I'm doing!  And it makes me want to set all the other shit on my desk on fire and never look back.  As I've been whining about my job to my hubby, he has commented that I should figure out what tools and skills I would need to pursue doing more creative work, which I can certainly find a way to incorporate into my job...  but also that I can use to help me start building ideas around what I could do instead of my current day job.  Could I do some design work, somewhere?  Maybe.  Could I design webpages?  Maybe.  One thing I am 100% certain of is that I am good at this stuff.  As I've mentioned before, color is such an important piece of my life.  I am always looking for ways to brighten things (from my walls, to my clothes, to my bags, to my fingernail polish) up in my life.  There HAS to be a way to turn this into a job that is not boring and stupid.

On top of the visual creativity I get to use in this project, I'm also getting to be creative in providing information to our challenge participants.  I am web searching, finding links, graphics, ideas, facts, etc to give the challenge a fun flair, and to provide different or new ideas to people.  I really like doing this.

I simply MUST find a way to change my career.

On a very related note, I did all the paperwork and paid the fees to set up Wyrillco Creations as a Limited Liability Company (LLC).  So I am going to get a little more serious about that.  Could I be the next Amy Butler?  Who knows, but I can't do it if I continue to treat this thing I do as a silly hobby.  I have to use my head and figure out how to take advantage of the tax perks offered to businesses, and settle on better pricing structures, and keep better track of things.  Kind of exciting, no?

Riding the wave

In therapy, we've talked a lot about riding the wave of anxiety/sadness/whatever out until it is no longer cresting... If I can just convince myself that it will go back down, I can get thru that moment without stuffing something in my mouth to make it go away.  Tonight I actually said, out loud to myself "Just ride the wave."

Totally cheesy, but it seems to have helped.  I'm writing this instead of working my way thru the bag of chocolate chips that are practically SCREAMING at me from the pantry.

So, I had a fabulous weekend at home with my family over Memorial Day.  Which is super happy and fun.  But now, they are so far away again!  It took all of 4 days to get homesick!  What the hell is wrong with me??!

Reflecting on a not-so-spiffy weekend, and talking about GIRL POWER

As I mentioned earlier, my weekend was kind of hit or miss on eating.  Not mindful, not at all.  Yesterday, which is technically part of my weekend since I don't work on Mondays, was just as not-spiffy.  There was binging on cookies and candy.  GAH.  Fodder for tonight's therapy session, anyway. 

I did finally get a hold of myself, and was uber productive in the sewing arena.  I made two blankets for Project Linus, to benefit the people in Joplin, Missouri who lost everything.  Fucking tornadoes.  I also completed two bags!  They came out awesome.  In addition, I have started piecing together another, bigger blanket for Project Linus.  Hopefully it will be done soon. 

I want to talk about GIRL POWER. 

A friend of mine posted something on a forum I frequent talking about the "Pussification" of sports, bemoaning the plethora of pink jerseys in football, etc...  I totally understood her rant, yet several women on there pointed out that using words like this is demeaning to women.  One of them said it so much better than I can:

how about we go with... not using the word vagina or any slang variations of in a manner which is a thinly veiled slam against women.   The "pussification" of sports can really only mean the "lessening of" or the "downfall of", suggesting that a "pussy" and the posession of a "pussy" is something less than. 
Pink, black, green or nude... that's not the point.  The continuous use of language that suggests women are lesser than men, is.

I like to think of myself as a feminist, yet this had never occurred to me...  I toss out "Don't be a pussy" to friends, both male and female, without a second thought.  It's generally when I'm trying to goad them into doing something!  So what I'm saying, in reality, is "Don't be a girl about it" insinuating that girls are not brave, or are weak, or whatever.  I'm HORRIFIED that this the case.  I also say "Sack up" to someone when I'm telling them to just make it happen, or to get over themselves and do something.  I think that is in the same vein...  like if they had a sack (junk, nuts, balls!) they would be braver, or more able to accomplish something.

So, OMG, I'm as bad as some of the chauvinistic assholes I hate one!  Well, probably not that bad.  But I'm pledging to try and remove this language from my vocabulary.  It won't be easy, tho.  These are things I've grown up saying.  Here's a list of the stuff that I need to not only stop saying, but start calling people on:

• Don't be a pussy
• Sack up!
• Does your pussy hurt? 
• That's ballsy.

I'm kind of embarrassed that those are a part of my vocabulary, anyway.  So this can't possibly be a bad thing. 

We, as women, still get bombarded with notions that we need protection, or taken care of, that somehow we aren't as strong or brave as the menfolk around us.  I don't know if you've seen those ridiculous jewelry commercials (like this one, that makes me want to fucking puke, and boycott Kay Jewelers):

But COME ON!!  ::insertbarfysmileyhere::  Are women really enamored by this sort of thing?  And if so, how do we stop that bullshit?  This is one of many ways our media, society, whatever, are telling us how to be, how to act, what is ok, and what is not.  Fuck that noise.  I don't need some dude to protect me from a thunderstorm.  The roof over my head will do that, thankyouverymuch.  There is so much more wrong with jewelry commercials, don't get me started!

I'm going to tie this back into ME.  After all, this is a blog about me.  :D  So dumbass commercials like that, and diet/fitness magazines are all in the business of selling us something.  I get that.  It's their job.  And all they are doing is making money off people who believe the bullshit they are fed.  But diet/fitness magazines, diet books, blah blah blah are all telling us how we should look, act, and be. 

Oh, you don't look like this 6'1" model dressed in workout clothes?  Do this workout and you will. 

What, your thighs touch each other?  Well, they shouldn't.  Go on this diet.

Do you have a bit of a tummy roll?  Well clearly you need to hate yourself, so do this workout and don't eat chocolate ever again, and maybe, just maybe you'll be worthy. 

Just have some willpower, really. 

It never occurred to me that this stuff was affecting me like this until I wiped it out of my life.  I threw out every fitness magazine I had.  I can feel myself getting sucked into it when I'm standing in line at the store and Shape, Fitness, Women's Health, etc are blaring at me to "Lose weight fast!" or trying to sell me the latest and greatest (not really, everything you read in those is pretty much recycled information cloaked in pretty colors and spiffy pictures of models being thin & happy) diet/exercise tips.  But the lack of noise in my brain since getting that crap out of my life is amazing.  It's one thing to read about a workout, to be inspired, to get new ideas, etc...  it's another when all the articles around it are about diets, or even worse, ads about diets, diet books, or DIET PILLS.  I've pared down my blog reading to sites that are devoted to real information, not gimmick or hype or diets of any sort. 

Women of the world, embrace yourself, just as you are.  RIGHT THIS SECOND.  Not how you'll be in two months after you do X to "fix" whatever part you don't like.  Now how you wish you were.  But love yourself for the strong, smart, gorgeous person you are now. 

Sunshine, rainbows, and lollipops

Ok, really, it's just sunshine I want to talk about.

It's been raining here in Colorado for nearly 2 weeks.  Every day it's rained, or rain/hailed, or rain/almost-snowed.  Yuck.  It's been chilly, damp, cloudy, and gray.  Apparently, those of us who have been living in the land of 300+ days of sunshine do not know what to do when it's dreary for 2 weeks!  I didn't realize how much my mood was suffering until this morning.  I grudgingly rolled out of bed to go workout with my neighbor...

We ran maybe 15 minutes, then did a 20 minute circuit workout alternating my TRX with stuff like burpees, mountain climbers, etc.  The sun was shining, there was a cheery breeze, we were looking right at the the expanse of Rocky Mountains to the west of us.  It was a pretty damn good way to start a day!  While my arms feel like they are inhabited solely by jello right now, I feel great.  The sunshiny start to this day did my mind some good.  I'm sure the workout endorphins didn't hurt.  Now I am getting ready to shower so I can go to walmart to get thread (I apparently never sew on green or orange fabric!) and then to the Sunflower Market to get some produce.  Then I'm going to come home and sew up a storm!  I may take a break at some point to go outside and plant some stuff that has been sitting in pots for 2 weeks, waiting for enough dry weather to get them in the ground.

I am energized, recharged, and feeling more positive.  It's like the sun gave my soul a big fluffy hug.

Holy Schnike, I'm old

So today, day of alleged rapture, my little brother turns 30.  THIRTY.  Holy shit!  If he's thirty, I'm OLD.  It's hard for me to wrap my head around this!  It's weirder to me that he's thirty than the fact that I'm thirty three.  Although, I have to be honest, that seems un-possible as well.  :D

For his birthday, my mom posted a whole bunch of pics of him on facebook.  Lots of old pictures, from when he was a kid.  I'm even in some of them!  One of my favorites is us on Halloween, when I was maybe 8 (?).  I was a hippie of some sorts, and he was a slice of pizza.  I vividly remember that Halloween, walking around the small town where our grandma lives.  It was cold, and he was shaped like a piece of pizza, and the wind kept blowing it around.  Isn't it funny, how even now, I can remember knowing I needed to make sure he was ok?  But he was sure a cute little sucker back in the day.  And I can really see how my niece is a little tiny version of him sometimes.

Just for shits & giggles:

The Hippie and the Pizza

And you know what?  All of this has made homesick like crazy.  Insanely homesick.  It's probably no coincidence that today was filled with comfort foods in no small quantity.  I didn't think about it when we were eating, but um, yeah.  Jeez.  I thought I had a better handle on this than I do, apparently.  I'm going to really need to find a way to stay in the moment this coming weekend when I'm home, and surrounded by food, family, and good times.  It all kind of blurs together for me, and I suspect that is one of the reasons that I find such comfort in food when I'm homesick.

Today has been the opposite of calm and mindful.  My head has been all over the place, loudly alerting me to the fact that all is not well inside.  I'm very grateful that I'm going home next weekend because I need to see my family.

Also on my mind has been the impending one year anniversary of my brother nearly dying.  It feels as fresh right now as it did then.  I feel gripped with fear at the thought of losing him, and watching his family hurt.  I want to put him in bubble wrap and make him sit still and be safe.  I'm sure he would be mortified to hear how much I worry about this, and obsess over it.  But I can't seem to knock the thoughts out of my head.  He would tell me, in his "I'm an Army drill sergeant" way that he's "fine".  Which is code for "stop worrying about me."  Ah, if only.

Last year, we were headed home for Memorial Day weekend to go to my cousin's wedding.  About an hour from home, literally in the middle of the night, my mom finally got thru to me (the cell service in western kansas BLOWS) to tell me my brother had collapsed at a concert.  No one really knew what the status was.  Alive?  Dead?  Brain damage?  That began the most horrible scary emotional stressed 48 hours of my life.  I didn't sleep or eat in that time.  I'm so fucking grateful that he's still alive, and is ok.  As we head home this Friday, I'm thankful that we are doing it at a different time of day, and that when we get to mom's house, my brother and his family will be arriving there shortly after us.  I'm hopeful that this year Memorial weekend will be a happy time.  We'll all be in one place, and quite frankly, my brother will be damn lucky if any of us let him out of our sight long enough to pee.  I'm going to make him run and workout with me, not because he needs it or anything, but because I want someone to be watching him when he does it.  I'll even humor my mom and carry my cell phone when we go for a run, just in case.

I literally feel trapped by the worry sometimes.  I know it isn't useful.  It's energy spent on something I can't control or do anything, ANYTHING, about.  It doesn't feel good.  Fear is a crazy cruel bitch, and I'd like to stab her straight thru the heart so she'll knock it the f*ck off.  I want to exorcise her from my head.

Tomorrow is a new day, one I hope to fill with things to occupy my mind and hands.  I have multiple bags to complete, and I have a good hard workout planned with my neighbor.  All of this will, hopefully, contribute to a more mindful and peaceful day.