when live gives you...

life is always a new set of challenges, but two weeks ago i had no idea what kind of challenges it would bring.

i was making my husband's pasta in the kitchen while he walked our Jack Russell mix Lucy for "last call." our other dog, Mayhem, was in the kitchen with me.

suddenly, i hear soul- and bone-chilling screaming from outside. i ran to the front door and hear my husband screaming at the top of his lungs, "YOU'RE FUCKING KILLING HER!" i ran outside to find my husband on the ground in our driveway with several people standing around him. and a dog. a very large dog in front of him.

i had no idea what to do, i was paralyzed. i don't know what took over my body or my mind, but a lot of the details that happened are fuzzy to me. i remember jumping on top of the dog that was attacking my husband and dog and started punching.

hard. on its head and eyes. it was a pit bull attacking my family. i was in beast mode. i remember thinking it was like punching the driveway.

how the attack ended, i have no idea. i have no recollection. all i remember is suddenly seeing my husband on the porch, cradling our dog in his arms and me screaming at this kid who was walking the pit bull. my neighbor embraced me, as i was now sobbing uncontrollably. the next thing i recall is being in the house with Lucy, sobbing with her in my arms and trying to wipe the blood so i could assess her injuries, as our Lab was licking Lucy's wounds and whining because she could see her friend was seriously hurt.

i put her down so i could wrap some ice in a soft towel, and she ran downstairs into her crate. i went and retrieved her and started to try and clean her up as gently as i possibly could.

my husband was still outside. there were four police cars, an ambulance, and a firetruck in front of our house.

holding her, i approached the front door and a police officer was coming up my stairs asking to speak with me. i put Lucy down, because somehow i had called the emergency veterinary clinic to bring her in, and i needed to open the door. she disappeared, running up the stairs this time.

my husband came into the house and i told him i couldn't find Lucy, and he and the officer went to look for her upstairs since i was still on the phone with the veterinary clinic. after hanging up with them, i found her. she had found a small hole in our box spring and buried herself inside. we had to tear the bed apart to retrieve her.

we drove to the animal hospital, and my husband was sobbing and holding Lucy in his arms. he was blaming himself for the attack, and he was in pain himself. he was having an anxiety attack, and quite honestly i thought he was having a heart attack. i was terrified but i had to be strong so that we could get everything fixed.

After five excruciating hours at the animal hospital, Lucy was released. She had a cone of shame, she was still shaking, and in obvious pain in spite of the meds they gave her. She was lucky - bite wounds, serious bruising, a torn lip, and a dislocated jaw. But she was alive.

Lucy is fine, one week later. Her wounds are starting to heal, the bruises are all but gone, but the emotional scars are still there. My husband and I are still dealing with the aftershock, and the people responsible are retaliating against us. Their dog was not vaccinated, it was not licensed, and it had attacked before. But, somehow, they are telling people that our 19 pound dog provoked the attack on the pit bull. While in my husband's arms.

The people who own the pit bull were fined for their dog not being licensed, a slap on the wrist of $50. My husband and I, well, so far this has cost us $700 and will likely cost us more in our own therapy bills and other costs with the measures we need to take for self-protection to walk our own dog in our own neighborhood.

This can happen to anyone. This could happen anywhere. It happened to us. In our driveway. Less than ten feet from our front door.

People are fucking crazy. And now I have to live with this.

if you want to see how Lucy is doing, check out her Facebook page - "For the Love of Lucy." We are going to really push for a law to be passed to hold people criminally responsible when something like this happens. A dog is not "property," it is a member of our family. If something were to happen to her, we would be devastated. We need to put a stop to this needless violence.

my one bucket list

The confidence bucket list. Fuck.

Another tough topic! I don't have any confidence, like zero confidence. I might seem like I do because I am a wicked talented actress (haha, no SAG card for me) but today's writing prompt is to list ten things I want to HAVE CONFIDENCE to do. Like I said, I have no confidence in myself and I am my own worst enemy. My mother used to tell me that all the time, and as crazy as she was... SHE WAS RIGHT. Oh my head. Did I just say that she was actually right about something? Sigh... admitting is the first step, right?

SO... here goes:

1. Have sex nekkid.

2. Have sex nekkid with the lights on.

3. Wear shorts in public.

4. Wear a strapless dress (boobs, tattoos... so much to work with on this one).

5. To be able to tell someone (or someONES) they hurt me, and that I do not need them in my life.

6. Have a full-length picture of myself taken by a professional (it's one thing to do this in front of a mirror, but to have a professional actually photograph me is something I am so afraid of!).

7. Sing "Under the Bridge" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers at a Karaoke night with my friends. It is seriously THE ONLY SONG that I ever belt out when it plays on the radio that I believe I sound amazeballs singing.

8. I want to actually believe that I look beautiful when someone tells me that I am, and not second guess why they are saying it or wondering what they want from me.

9. Take a belly dancing class.

10. Go to school for aesthetics and learn to be a makeup artist/aesthetician. Not for a career, but because I really truly want to make women feel beautiful about themselves. I never did, and I think that it is something that we need as females - to feel good about ourselves, not just physically, but emotionally. I would show people what makes them beautiful and teach them how to enhance those things to make them glow like they do on the inside.

Yeah... corny, right?

But the sex stuff? IT IS SUCH A BIG FREAKING DEAL! I have had zero confidence in my body when my husband touches me, and I think that is a big part of what makes sex so much fun - letting go and just being in the moment. I can't do it.

Sigh. I think it's kind of interesting that my number ten is about helping give confidence to others when I don't have any myself. But I really do not want anyone to feel as shitty about themselves as I have. I'm so vain, I probably think this blog is about me.

Oh wait... IT IS. :) See what I did there?

Until next time... namaste.

my theme song

Not just because Ally McBeal told me that everyone needs one, but I have always had a theme song.

I was asked to write about my anthem, the song that reminds me who I am. I have several, actually. BUT they all share a common theme.

"Bitch" by Meredith Brooks, "Witchy Woman" by the Eagles, and "Black Magic Woman" by Carlos Santana. Those three songs I think describe me to a tee. I am an onion, I have many layers, and I surprise the shit out of people. A LOT.

I look like the Virgin Connie Swail. No, really. I know I do. BUT, I have tattoos, I cuss like a longshoreman, and do not practice any religion. Does any of that make me evil? Nope, not one bit. It makes me complicated, it makes me interesting, IT MAKES ME... well, ME.

SEE? I wasn't kidding. I. look. like. her. Sweet, pure, but DARK AND TWISTY inside.

I love the lyrics, the tune, and the strength that Meredith Brooks emits from this one song. I hate that she got inside my head (we didn't even have dinner first!), but I LOVE that she seems to be doing the "Isn't it Ironic" bit with a lot cooler edge than Alannis ever could have tried.

"Bitch" by Meredith Brooks
I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change
Tried to tell you
But you look at me like maybe
I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet
Yesterday I cried
Must have been relieved to see
The softer side
I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything
All rolled into one

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way

So take me as I am
This may mean
You'll have to be a stronger man
Rest assured that
When I start to make you nervous
And I'm going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change
And today won't mean a thing

Just when you think, you got me figured out
The season's already changing
I think it's cool, you do what you do
And don't try to save me

I'm a bitch, I'm a tease
I'm a goddess on my knees
When you hurt, when you suffer
I'm your angel undercover
I've been numb, I'm revived
Can't say I'm not alive
You know I wouldn't want it any other way

"Witchy Woman" by the Eagles
Raven hair and ruby lips
sparks fly from her finger tips
Echoed voices in the night
she's a restless spirit on an endless flight
wooo hooo witchy woman, see how
high she flies
woo hoo witchy woman she got
the moon in her eye
She held me spellbound in the night
dancing shadows and firelight
crazy laughter in another
room and she drove herself to madness
with a silver spoon
woo hoo witchy woman see how high she flies
woo hoo witchy woman she got the moon in her eye
Well I know you want a lover,
let me tell your brother, she's been sleeping
in the Devil's bed.
And there's some rumors going round
someone's underground
she can rock you in the nighttime
'til your skin turns red
woo hoo witchy woman
see how high she flies
woo hoo witchy woman
she got the moon in her eye


"Black Magic Woman" by Carlos Santana
Got a black magic woman
Got a black magic woman

I've got a black magic woman
Got me so blind I can't see
That she's a black magic woman
She's tryin' to make a devil out of me

Turn your back on me, baby
Turn your back on me, baby

Yes, don't turn your back on me baby
Stop messin' 'round with your tricks
Don't turn your back on me baby
You just might pick up my magic sticks

Got your spell on me baby
Got your spell on me baby

Yes, you got your spell on me baby
Turning my heart into stone
I need you so bad, magic woman
I can't leave you alone

the book that changed my life

The most important book I ever read...

holy shazbut. This one is really tough. It's not because I never read as a kid, or as an adult. It's because I read ALL. THE. TIME. This is like picking your favorite kid. I can't do it.

I LOVE to read. I am inspired by the different stories that I read, the different genres, fiction, non-fiction, self-help. There is not one book that stands out that I can say unabashedly changed my life because there were so many.

Judy Blume was definitely one of my favorite authors growing up. "Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret" taught me about being a girl. "Deenie" taught me how to accept the differences in other people. "Fudge" taught me that I am not the only one with an annoying younger sibling and that there is actually some shit to laugh at even when they are getting on my last raw nerve.

Beverly Cleary was another one of my favorites as a kid. I really wanted to BE Ramona Quimby. I actually thought I was her, but without the older sister to look up to. I just used the older kids in my neighborhood to fill that role. I even created "No Smoking" signs to try and get my mother to quit smoking. That did not go over very well. Ramona got a hug from her father, I got to try my first cigarette (my cray cray mother was trying to prove a point in her infinite wisdom by trying to show me smoking isn't that bad... HELLO, I was SEVEN).

Harper Lee blew my mind with "To Kill a Mockingbird," and that is definitely an outstanding book that is one of my favorites of all time but is it the most important? I mean, didn't everyone want Atticus Finch as their father? We all had a Boo Radley in the neighborhood that everyone was afraid of (I still do, but I call him Rain Man, the one before that I called Sling Blade). Scout was just a girl who recognized what was wrong with the world and was fearless.

An obscure book that I really think changed me forever was "Death Be Not Proud" by John Gunther. This man wrote an incredible story of his son, Johnny, who developed a brain tumor and died at the age of 17 but did not go quietly. This kid did everything he could to get into Harvard before he died. Freaking HARVARD. I had to read it for school, but it is one of those books that I think of often and want to read again and again.

Upon reflection, THE most important book I ever read was an Ernest Hemingway novel. When I was 14 years old, my parents separated and my father and I went to live with my grandparents. My grandfather had a small bookcase in the living room with these old, dark blue canvas-bound books. I had always been curious about these books so one day I asked him about them. He told me to choose one and we could talk about it. My grandfather was a World War II veteran, and had lived through a lot of experiences that Hemingway wrote of so eloquently. I chose "For Whom the Bell Tolls" as my first book to read with my grandfather. It transported me - it took me three days to read it. I was engrossed, I was enthralled by the action, the excitement, and the romance of the Spanish Civil War. When I finished, I was speechless - probably the main objective of my grandfather since I was an asshole teenager at the time - but he had me choose another book. And then another, and another. By the time the summer was through - I read every single book on that shelf. He had saved me from what could have been a horrible summer for me, with all of the life changes that I was facing with my parents' divorce, starting a new school, and just being 14.

"For Whom the Bell Tolls" is the most important book to me, not because of the story or the author, but because of who introduced me to that book. My grandfather was a strong, silent Irishman who never said he loved us, he never said he was proud, but you could tell by the way he was and the gifts he gave us (and not the ones you can buy at the store) that he did, and that he was.

I feel like I let my grandfather down when I was in my twenties. I disappeared. I was going through some stuff, and withdrew from my life after I found out that he had multiple myeloma. I ran away, because I didn't want to see that man wither away into a shell of himself. I wanted to remember him as the strong man who wore Christmas socks in July to bust my grandmother's balls. He died a few years later, and I sobbed at his funeral. I was ashamed for having abandoned him and for having let him down. He deserved better from me, but sometimes I dream of him and I think he knows.

I hope that he does. Because when I hear a bell toll off in the distance, no matter where I am, I always think of him.

who better than me?

Self Care is Everything. Here are five things that I am going to do this week for ME.

Because without ME, I am nothing.

So, this weekend I started the focus on ME. I had already scheduled an appointment with my new favorite tattoo artist, Hector, and I knew that the plumbers were going to be showing up to replace my air conditioning so my house can be decommissioned as a sauna. Seriously... HAIR HELL. Since June, we have gone without air conditioning and I have walked around the world looking like Rosanne Adan-Adanna. It's humiliating! But, I digress.

I didn't care that the hubs "might" have to work. I always seem to put my life on hold to accommodate his schedule, so I decided FUCK IT. I am going to proceed with my own plan, and if he could be home with the contractors, GREAT. If not, that is great too. I could leave them at my house alone. I am already paying them bank to do to the work, they don't need to steal anything in the process. Not that I have anything worth stealing.

Took the dogs to school for the day, and I went and spent SEVEN HOURS with Hector. We are not finished with the project, so I am not going to post any pictures yet. I am really pink today and it's kind of awkward to take a selfie of your bicep. BUT, I love it. I did what *I* wanted to do, and am very happy with the result so far. Sunflowers - YAY! More to come...

So, today, what I am doing for ME is WRITING. Writing makes me happy. Writing makes me free. Writing makes me escape everything else and just type. Seriously - I talk a lot so you can only expect that I would WRITE A LOT, too. People have told me that I write like I talk... hopefully not as annoying as my Fran Drescher-ish voice, but who knows? Who cares? I am doing what I love. My plumber is back today and they are still working on the project that will never end, and I am sitting at my computer writing. The rest of the world can suck it. I took the day off, and once these guys leave I am going to do what *I* want.

I am also going back to my mat this week. I guess that is numero TRES on the five things list. I really have been remiss in practicing my yoga and my stress level and general energy has suffered as a result. I definitely can tell when I am not practicing because things really do get to me, and I am not as conscious of my breathing. I know breathing is necessary to LIVE and all that, but when I am overwhelmed I tend to holdmybreathtilliwanttopassout. Whew! Yeah, it really is like that. I am one of those people that yoga was invented for. No, I am not Gumby. I am still fat, and I still can't do some basic postures because my body gets in the way but Anna Guest-Jelley has created an amazing yoga practice for curvy women and I love to follow her videos. If you haven't checked her out, I strongly encourage you to find CurvyYoga. You will not be disappointed.

Next on my ME bucket list is my closet. What?!??! WORK?!?!? Yeah. It has been a longstanding issue with me. My closet is overstuffed, disorganized, and causes me stress every freaking day. I have shit in there that has been around since before I was married that STILL.HAS.TAGS.ON. Anyone else like that? You go shopping, you see something cute(ish) on sale, and you buy it regardless if it fits or not. It's cute. It's on sale. It will work, right? NOPE. Not ever. Not even a bit. I started the PURGE yesterday, but it was hotter than Hades upstairs, so I postponed the effort. I was soaking with sweat, and the dogs were pissed off with all of the noise and screaming from above. I might have screamed a few times when I was what I was holding on to. Seriously... four moves and I didn't get rid of some of this crap? Holy wishful thinking, Batman. If it didn't work 30 pounds ago, it is never going to work. Those people at the Salvation Army will be happy when they see things with tags on.

The LAST THING on my bucket list is a tough one. I am already in process of doing this, but it still is just hanging there, looming over my head. I am going to lose weight. I have to. I have already looked asscancer in the eye a few times, and I really need to take control of my health as much as I possibly can. No more Wylie Coyote falling from the cliff and flailing to save myself just inches from the ground. I have to do something NOW. This is the ultimate gift to myself.

Like I said, without me, I am nothing. If I am dead, I am really not going to be having much fun and I won't be able to enjoy this $16,000 new heating, air conditioning, and hot water heater I just bought my family, now will I? It's like that now. I cut out gluten, reduced my dairy significantly (I refuse to give up my cream in my coffee - coconut milk just tastes like ass no matter how you try to get me to like it), and am cutting back on the sugar. Gluten and dairy seem to be my biggest enemies. When I eat bread or crackers, I get really sick. When I consume dairy... well, it just makes me crave ice cream. And this body did not just come into its own. It was created by my lovers, Ben and Jerry. They were lousy lovers because they always left me feeling bad about myself after a pint of sweet and creamy bliss. I am leaving you guys for good. I need to.

Amazing influences on my life.

I'm skipping over the taking a picture of myself in something I have been afraid to wear, and going straight for the FIVE WOMEN WHO HAVE CHANGED MY LIFE list.

Some of these women may have changed my life for the better, some may not have knowingly done it.

1. Helen Keller - I was obsessed with you growing up.
I read EVERYTHING I could on Helen Keller and wanted to be her. Not the blind, deaf, and mute person but the person who overcame EVERYTHING and became an amazing inspiration and teacher. Yes, Annie Sullivan, you deserve insane amounts of credit for shaping Ms. Keller into the person she was, but the strength in Helen Keller's character was inside of her and Annie Sullivan just helped her to get that out into the world so the rest of us could appreciate her.

My favorite Helen Keller quote is "The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt within the heart."

2. My grandmother, M. Irene Champagne Hart - you are inside my soul, and every day I am reminded of the awesomeness that you were.
Sounds cliche, but my grandmother, Grammy, changed my life exponentially. I remember as a little kid singing in the backseat of the car "YAY, YAY TO GRAMMY'S!" every time we would make the drive to visit her. It was always special, exciting, and fun. She had games for us to play, she always had Fiddle Faddle hidden in her cabinet, and always laughed and never got angry at us even when we were tearing her house apart like most little kids did. She even figured out that I was afraid of her wigs, and put her wig on the stairs so that I wouldn't fall and kill myself when I was learning to walk. Yes, to this day, I am still kind of afraid of wigs. I don't know why, but when they are not on a form or on a person, I expect them to come alive and smother me.

Growing up, my grandmother was always there. Even when my mother became more ill and started to withdraw from life and bring my brother and I into her abyss, my grandmother made the effort to be there for us. When my father and I left my mother, she took us in, and put up with my teenage bullshitty angst and still loved me when I told her I hated her. Through all the crap that I put her through, she was always there for me. I was ashamed of myself for a multitude of reasons as a young adult, and withdrew from the family. She still welcomed me back and was happy when I told her that I had gotten married. I spent the last months of her life visiting her, just being with her, and she taught me so much about unconditional love. Without her in my life, I would have been a very lonely, bitter bitch. I owe her so much and I miss her every day since she left this Earth. I look forward to seeing her again so I can return all those hugs and tell her how much I appreciate her.

3. My mother. Yes, you KNEW she would have to be on the list, right? Really? You didn't? Shocking. I know... funny, right? The woman who taught me to hate myself, that family didn't matter, and gave me my first cigarette when I was 7 years old. In spite of the crazy that was her, she did change my life. I am a much stronger person than I ever could have been with a "normal" mother. I am constantly mindful of how much my words may hurt someone, and I am kinder as a result. I understand that was not her objective, that everything that she did teach me was out of resentment and hatred, but I am who I am IN SPITE of her.

There is nothing more gratifying than proving someone wrong. I am happy to say to her, wherever she is, YOU WERE FUCKING WRONG ABOUT ME. I am not a loser, I am not ugly, and I am worthy of other people's love. I will never forget what you did to me, but I will NEVER give you power over me. For that, I thank you.

4. My aunt, Pauline Champagne Dee. Artistic, fun, and the person who showed me my first dirty movie. So, it was "Porky's," not exactly a porn but for the time it was VERY risque and AWESOME. Later on in my life, she was the first person I reached out to when I was trying to make amends to the family that I had isolated myself from. She welcomed me with open arms, and encouraged me to find the strength to rebuild my relationship with my grandmother. My aunt is a tough woman, and does not have much of a filter. She will tell you exactly how she sees it, and I have mad respect for her because of it.

When my parents separated, I spent a great deal of time with her at my grandmother's house, as well as at her home. She was my escape from the reality of being an asshole teenager and always made sure we did fun stuff. She is my second mother - and I really needed that female influence growing up. I wish I could be a better person and spend more time with her, but I am still battling a lot of those inner demons and am still working through some things. I hope she knows how much of a positive influence she has had on me, because without her, I would probably go insane.

5. My cousin, Diane Sheehan. Yes, I do have three very amazing women in my family who have influenced who I am, and every single one of them deserves a standing ovation and a lifetime of gratitude from me. Diane is one of the best people ever to grace this earth. She taught me the importance of feeling pretty. She introduced me to painting my toes when I was really young, and we slathered ourselves with baby oil to get tans by the pool in the summertime (nobody thought about melanoma back then!). I even spent the night at her house and we got up at the asscrack to watch Lady Diana marry her Prince. We did the same when Fergie married her Prince. So many cool memories with my cousin that have shaped who I am today!

She is 14 years older than me, but you would never know it. When I was 16, an old guy bagging our groceries commented on how cool it was to have a twin sister... he meant me and my 30 year old cousin! She was flattered, I was absolutely mortified. To this day, people think that Diane and I are sisters, or that her daughter Mary and I are sisters. We do look alike, but our ages are separated by 14 years either way - I am 14 years younger than Diane, and 14 years older than her daughter Mary. Kind of weird but just right.


So, there you have it. This was an effortless writing exercise for me, since I have always had these women in my heart or on my mind and they have in their own ways shaped me into who I am today. Some of it is bad, but for the most part amazing. I appreciate all of their influence no matter if it has been positive or negative. Without any of these pieces to the puzzle, I would not be the person that I am today.

And for that, dear ladies, I bow to you. (Curtsy is so passe!)

if beauty didn't matter...

I would probably not be as shallow as I am.

*THUD*

Yes, you read that correctly. I am shallow. I do judge people based on their appearance, I do compare myself to others CONSTANTLY, and I really do care about what people think about me. And it is all based on beauty and how I judge MYSELF.

The word beauty is so subjective. Is it a green leaf, Gisele Bundchen, or the sound of a child laughing? Everyone has a different definition, but I am going to go with the one that makes me so fucking vain. My physical appearance.

I wake up every morning, and hide my fat from my husband. I immediately go to my bathroom and brush my hair so I don't look like Broom Hilda. I get dressed before he comes upstairs so he cannot see my flaws. There are a LOT of them, so it takes a lot of effort to conceal.

Oh, doggies - you need a walk? Wait a minute, I have to put on my mascara before anyone sees me! The world would stop and the Zombie Apocalypse would begin if anyone saw me without makeup. Shit! No time for that? Sunglasses it is then, dear poochies!

If beauty did not matter, I would have so much more time to myself. I would also have a shit-ton of money and live in a much better house in a quiet neighborhood, and definitely with nicer furniture. I spend MAD, INSANE amounts of money on makeup, clothes, getting my hair done and roots colored, hair removal... you name it and I spend money on it.

I also spend so much time making myself look somewhat attractive, or at least minimally offensive, that I am probably missing out on a lot. At least two hours a day is devoted to makeup, clothes, and overall grooming and maintenance. Yeah... beauty is all-encompassing, time-sucking, and mentally draining.

If beauty did not matter... I would just focus on the me that is inside. The one who laughs, reads, enjoys taking in a Patriots' game, go out more with friends, and actually enjoy life. Because beauty DOES matter to me, I don't enjoy any of those things because I am just too fucking preoccupied with what all of you think.

And that's the truth.

The first time someone used the "f" word to describe me...

This is writing prompt #2 from Curvy Girl Brittany Gibbon's blog. I have a feeling these are going to get tougher and tougher as the month goes on, but here goes...

"When was the first time someone called you fat? How did it change your life?"

Fuck.

This is a tough question. I honestly cannot remember if this was the ACTUAL first time, or if it is the first time that I can remember.

I was 13 years old. My mother had been institutionalized for six months at a mental hospital. They thought when they told me that she hurt her back that I would believe them. I always knew something was wrong with her. She just wasn't like other mothers. She always stayed home, in the dark, smoking her cigarettes, and drinking copious amounts of coffee. When people would ring the doorbell, she would have us hide and pretend we weren't home. Sure, it would sound weird to you, but to me? This was my normal.

While she was away, recovering from her back injury (read: SHOCK TREATMENTS), I was in charge of things. My father worked full time, and I have a brother who is three years younger than me. At 13 years old, I would come home from school first (junior high always got out earlier than the little elementary school) and run straight to the freezer. Ice cream - specifically, Hood Almond Praline Delight ice cream - was my savior. I would eat half of the half-gallon container, and hide it in the back of the freezer before my brother came home. I was ravenous, partly because I didn't get any lunch money and partly because my heart was hurting and I needed to fill this void inside of me.

When she came home from the hospital, I remember her sitting in the kitchen, smoking her cigarettes and snarled at me, "You're fat. You're ugly. Nobody is ever going to love you."

I am now 42 years old - almost 30 years later - and I still have that strong self-loathing because of what she said to me. I KNOW - at least the rational side of me knows - that it was just the rantings of an angry, mentally ill person who happened to have given birth to me, but the emotional side of me - also known as my enemy - tells me that she would be the one person who did know me and what she said was true.

Since that day, I have hated myself. I have been hurt. I have been angry. I don't like looking in the mirror. I cannot allow anyone to take pictures of myself.

I have never believed ONE PERSON who has paid me a compliment. I always question their motives, and even my husband has given up trying to make me believe that I am not ugly and that I deserve love.

I wish I could truly tell an inspiring story about how a 13 year old girl got her feelings hurt, and turned into this incredible person who empowers others, but I can't. It's not true, and I don't believe it ever will be true. I have gone from having anorexia to having a binge eating disorder. I even gained 100 pounds in one year - Ben and Jerry became my best friends after having a miscarriage 15 years ago. I hated myself even more because I couldn't even do that right. I locked myself in my apartment after coming home from work and would eat. I ate until I got myself so large that I couldn't feel. Nobody would look at me, nobody would talk to me, and I was alone because that is what I thought I deserved. I protected myself from hurt by getting large.

This sucks. It really does. I wish I had a daughter so I could give her all the strength that was sucked from my own soul, because no girl deserves to feel about herself the way that I do. I know that I am not alone, but it sure as shit feels like I am alone. All. The. Time. My poor husband. He doesn't know how I truly feel about myself... but you, whoever you are, now know my ugliest truth.

Dear 32 year old me...

Psst... Kristin... that guy you are with? He does not love you. He has never loved you. When he says he loves you, he is only telling you he loves having SEX WITH YOU. He never spends the night, he never has introduced you to any of his friends, and only takes you to places near where you live.

HE. DOES. NOT. LOVE. YOU.

He lied to you when he said that he was separated from his wife.
He left you crying and writhing in pain when you broke your ankle. To go to his WIFE.
He lied to you when he said you were the only one for him.
He never once spent a holiday with you, and he is the reason you hate your birthday.
He lied to you when he said he bought you a ring.
He cried poor mouth, but somehow bought himself some really nice things. WITH HIS WIFE'S MONEY.
He lied to you when he begged you not to move 40 miles away.
And then bought a house WITH HIS WIFE A WEEK LATER.

He is a liar. Your life is going to be so much happier without his emotional cancer in your life. He does not make you feel good about yourself. He makes you want to curl up and hide in shame, when you should be out there CELEBRATING the awesomeness that is you. You are depriving the world of who you are by allowing him to have so much power over the way you feel about yourself.

It may take a while to ease the hurt of feeling betrayed, but you are going to be so happy when you open your eyes and see what is around you. Do not judge people by their appearances, do not allow the "I can'ts" get in your way. Step outside, take a deep breath, and follow your heart.

You are awesome. You are smart. You are funny. You deserve to go far. The company you work for? Yeah, they aren't going to be around for much longer. Trust your instincts when you start to feel like things are going South fast. But, don't leave just yet. You have a very important person to meet before you find another job. The one you have been waiting your entire life for, but had no idea what it was that you needed. You will realize that the kindness in one person's eyes is sincere, he has no ulterior motives, and he is going to change your world. You will find your soul mate, but it is not who you expect, so keep kissing those frogs. You will realize when you have gone on your last first date, you will KNOW that night that this is the person you are supposed to spend the rest of your days with.

You will thank me for this in ten years.

Truly yours, with unconditional love now and forever,

The 42 Year Old You.

PS - please do not throw away that gorgeous black chenille sofa. It is awesome, and someone is going to tell you to toss it. Don't because you will regret it for years to come.

Writing assignment

If you haven't heard of Brittany Gibbons, you are missing out.

She is funny, smart, and one of the most authentic people you will ever meet, read, or hear about.

She's the woman who had the brass ones to wear a bikini and have it posted on the Huffington Post. She's normal, she's a mom, and she inspires a lot of women to be more than we have allowed ourselves to be.

Yesterday, she put us to task. She invited us to participate in a writing project, and it made me realize that the one thing that I am truly passionate about is writing. So, I accepted the challenge.

http://brittanyherself.com/aside/august-writing-prompts/

Feel free to join in! Some of the assignments will be a challenge, no doubt, but it is just the right nudge I needed.

reality check...

i have been very open in the past about my health. a few years ago, i went to a gastroenterologist because i was having some bleeding issues, which i thought was nothing to be concerned about until i had a sigmoidoscopy and i saw a big, angry thing growing inside of my body. the doctor said "well, i don't like that..." and i was yelling "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" turns out, it was what they call an adenoma growing inside my lower colon and they had to do a colonoscopy to remove it, and found 8 more "friends" growing further up in my colon.

at 37 years old, it's highly unusual to have this kind of "activity" going on in your digestive tract so the doctors immediately took interest in my case. i have to go every year for a colonoscopy and they find stuff, remove it, and that's that. but they want to know WHY it's happening, and i guess what they should expect going forward. me, too, docs. ME, too.

yesterday, i had a consultation with a practice at Mass General who specializes in genetic gastro-intestinal cancers. we talked about my family history, we talked about my symptom history, and we talked about what to expect with the testing they are going to do (they took about a gallon of my blood and are sending it to some special laboratory in California to test for genetic markers and really complicated stuff). but that wasn't what struck me yesterday.

you see? i don't have cancer. yet. so i don't need to worry about my life. YET.

but as i was sitting in the waiting area, there was a couple - maybe in their 60s, also sitting there. the husband was stone silent, looking forward and staring at a painting of Motif #2 and the wife was just stroking his hand.

about five minutes passed, and a woman (doctor?) came out from the office area, found them, and started to talk. the man looked up and said "it's my life. i need to do what's best," and the doctor started to talk about chemotherapy protocol, how often he would need to come in for chemo, and how often he needed to visit with the doctor in between rounds of chemo.

i sat there, absolutely stunned that they were having this intensely personal conversation right in front of me, but then i realized. the man had just been given a pretty bad diagnosis, and had walked out of the doctor's office. his wife coaxed him to sit down in the waiting area to "cool off" a bit, and that was where the doctor found them. rather than try to convince him to go back to that unpleasant room where he had just been given some bad news, she made a judgment call to talk to him out there in a non-threatening environment.

i sat there, wanting to cry for this man and his wife. what they are going through? is exactly what i fear most. i do not want to have to have this kind of a conversation with a doctor, and i especially do not want to have this kind of a conversation with my husband. it was like i was meant to witness this whole interchange, because i suddenly felt like i HAD to find out what's going on inside my body so that i can do what i can PROACTIVELY to fight. there is a strong possibility that i have what is called Lynch Syndrome, which is a genetic defect (thanks to both my maternal and paternal genes) that causes colon, ovarian, uterine, and stomach cancers in combination with one another.

what does that mean? i am going to be under a microscope. i would rather face the unknown with as much armour as i can summon - and awareness and early detection is really my only hope. colon cancer is one of the most curable forms of cancer, when it is CAUGHT EARLY. i will eat my broccoli (mother nature's little scrub brushes), i will not smoke, and i will drink wine ONLY in moderation. i will not eat foods that are high in fat, and i will avoid red meat. these are what *I* can do to try to prevent what may be the inevitable. i won't know for another several months what the genetic testing shows, but... my guardian angel? your message was received LOUD and CLEAR. thank you, grammy. i know it's you. i love you.

from the outside, looking in

Have you ever had a friend who you look at, and you see how amazing, intelligent, and put together she is? But you know that she doesn't see the awesomeness that is what everyone else sees? The one who no matter what you tell her, she constantly deflects your compliments?

You say: "You look beautiful in that dress, darlin'!"
She responds: "No, I don't. I look fat."

You tell her: "That haircut really flatters your gorgeous cheekbones."
She claims: "Oh, my husband/boyfriend hates it."

You proclaim: "I wish I had your confidence when I walk into a room."
She says: "I wish he would pay more attention to me."

She's not a Debbie Downer, she is all of us. She is what everyone thinks she is when they look in the mirror. She doesn't mean to be negative, but she cannot ever look at herself in a positive light no matter what you tell her. We've all done it, we've all been there, but none of us have any idea how it affects our friends.

When you pay someone a compliment, you aren't being patronizing - you are telling someone sincerely that you admire them. When they respond with a negative, doubting comment... it makes you feel aggravated, like you have no credibility and maybe leaves you a little bit (or a lot) frustrated. Think about it.

When you tell someone that their dress makes them look beautiful and they respond with "I look fat," doesn't it make you second guess yourself? Like you're not being truthful because your friend doesn't believe anything you tell them? It sucks, doesn't it? Sure does. One of my achilles' heels is when someone questions my credibility (another is my intelligence, but that's a post for another time).

The irony here? I am guilty of deflecting ALL. THE. TIME. I don't even hear myself say it, but I am so used to beating the shit out of myself with my own inner dialogue, that when someone says something NICE to me, they can't possibly be telling me the truth. Now, I totally understand how it feels when you are trying to be encouraging to a friend and they constantly respond with doubtful, negative, bone-crushingly frustrating retorts.

I attention to myself when being paid a compliment, and if I can't think of something nice or positive to say (or even "thank you"), I will simply SMILE. Not saying anything when someone pays you a compliment is a hell of a lot nicer (to them) than deflecting it. Nobody wants to hear how much you hate yourself after they have just told you that you admire something about them! So SMILE. Eventually, those nice words they are saying to you? They become easier to accept, and something miraculous may happen. You may actually start BELIEVING the compliments.

TRUST ME.

Fuck the haters. You don't need to listen to those voices in your head, or even those in real life, who have nothing positive to say about yourself. YOU need to love who you are, and YOU are the only person who has control over how you feel. When you rely on someone else to provide you with value, you lose who you are. DON'T ever give someone else that kind of power over you.

You ARE amazing. You ARE intelligent. You ARE beautiful.

You're WELcome. <3

it's an inside job

Yes, it's an inside job.

You have to be happy... TRULY happy inside. You can't rely on other factors, people, places, things to make you happy. YOU have to make yourself happy. Things happen when you are a happy, good person. People want to be around you. People appreciate things. People want to do things FOR you. Nobody wants to be around the sad sack who is having a pity party of one. They want to be happy. Happy people attract other happy people.

It's all about perspective. Or introspective (is that even a word?). My homework assignment last month was to stop the negative self-talk. While it wasn't a whopping success, I have become more AWARE when I am doing it and I make an effort to turn those negative thoughts around. That, my friends, is progress.

For example: I was meeting a totally awesome, amazing friend over the weekend for some much-needed girl time. I left my house with plenty of time to stop at an ATM and arrive about 15 minutes early so I could pick out my polish color. Then traffic happened. Like, epic Sunday afternoon out-of-nowhere traffic. It was bizarre - we were not moving more than 5 miles per hour on the highway. I texted my friend, who was fortunately on a different route and slightly ahead of me. I called the salon to tell them I was going to be late. The receptionist snootily asked me "Well... when do you THINK you will be there?" Usually, I would have responded very defensively. This time, I told him, "Well, sir... I have no control over what is happening in front of me, nor do I have any idea when the traffic will start moving again." He asked if I could get there within 20 minutes, and I calmly repeated "I have no control over what is happening in front of me. I will do my best to get there, but I cannot predict what will happen." The negative me would have told the guy he was an asshole and cancelled my appointment never to return again. Instead... I was nice. Yes, I was late but they did wait for me. Our pedicures were slightly rushed but we still got to spend time together and then have lunch and gossip more.

I am really doing what I can to cease the rude, bitchy inner me who comes out when I lose patience. I have to accept that there are certain things that are beyond my control and stop stressing about it. For instance... TRAFFIC. I can't do anything about what goes on in front of me, so I can't get too anxious about being late for something if I know I have done what I could to be early or on time (I am always at least 15 minutes early for everything... one of those OCD things).

I am a much happier person when I stop listening to that negative inner voice. I even went shopping one day, and at least 3 women stopped me in Macy's to compliment either my hair, my makeup, or ask me for style advice. It was so flattering, and awesome because that NEVER happened to me before. If I am in one of my negative mindsets, I am totally unapproachable and keep my head down. Happy me walks with pride, I own it, and apparently I look like a nice enough person for strangers to come up to me. I even find that I am dressing better when I'm just running errands on the weekend. No yoga pants and schleppy hoodie, but actual clothes that I wear to work.

So, my homework for this month is to stop relying on outside factors to make me happy. I have to figure out how to just BE happy without relying on compliments, gifts, money, or anything else to make me happy. When I'm happy, good things happen. I strongly recommend it... it's incredible how much a little perspective adjustment can change your whole world if you let it.

A little motivation is all it takes...

The past month has been... well... CHALLENGING. Emotionally, physically, and mentally. My husband had quite a health scare, and luckily he is going to be fine. I had to play the role of "rock," which was weird for me, because usually I'm the one with the health crises and he's the calm, cool, and collective one. Trying to hold it all together, and not let him see my concern did play with my head a lot. Half of me wanted to focus on my diet, nutrition, and weight loss so I could be healthy enough to care for him in the event he needed care; but the other half... the wicked bitch... she was the one who told me that candy, cake, cookies, and ice cream would solve my problems.


Guess who won?


I gained a total of four pounds during my emotional breakdown, and I deserved to gain more than that. Luckily, I did not - which was a good thing. I' ve lost half of the weight I gained back, and am getting myself refocused, rejuvenated, and remotivated to keep moving South on the Scale.

Yes, the scale and I had filed for divorce due to irreconcilable differences some time ago, but I just couldn't let it go. I am consciously using the scale as a TOOL and not a WEAPON. I can monitor my daily food intake and activity using my BodyMedia Fit device, and I am now looking at the scale to measure what I have done during the day to see how it impacts my progress. Two weeks in, and I'm down 2 pounds. Not bad, right?

My next challenge is a friend and I have a contest going... we set an end date and showed each other our starting weights. We have to keep it honest because too many times I've been part of "biggest loser" contests where nobody showed each other their true statistics (whether it was online or in person, it didn't matter). It was slightly humiliating to show another woman my weight, especially when she is fabulous (and weighs my GOAL weight...) but the point of the exercise is that we are going to work together, support each other, and report back weekly. Whoever loses the highest percentage by the end of the 3 months - IN A HEALTHY FASHION - she's on WW and I'm on JC - the winner will get a pedicure.

I'm also starting to figure out a few things about myself. I am going to an Open House tomorrow night to check out a school for estheticians. What's that, you ask? Well, if you have to ask... skin care, makeup, and other spa-related services. I find that I am asked almost on a daily basis about makeup, skincare, and clothes. I *love* to help people feel better about themselves - I learned that while I was working at the store last summer. The best experiences I had were when a woman came in, looking sad and feeling bad about how she thought she looked, and after I got done with her the smile she wore was immeasurable. Sometimes she didn't buy anything, but how she saw herself after I got done with her... amazing. I loved that warm glowy feeling of being able to help someone's self esteem. I want to be able to do that more, maybe because I didn't have that "person" when I was younger so I had to figure it out myself. But, self esteem is so important in how you see the world and how the world sees you.

So... I'm looking into getting licensed and maybe it will turn into a new career, maybe it will be a weekend thing... I don't know. All I know is that I am actually excited about a possibility, which is something I haven't had in a very long time. Work should be something you love doing, and not just something to pay the bills. I am now at the age where I want to do something that MEANS something. Yes, I still have the bills to pay but I also have more options available to me.

We'll see.

Image is everything

...BODY image, that is.

The way you see yourself? Nobody sees the same thing that you do. The so-called gigantic pimple on your forehead? Nope, they aren't staring at it. The dimples on your thighs? Nope, not looking at that either.

What you see - what you choose to focus on? It's not important to anyone else but you.

Everyone has flaws, it's what makes us individuals. It makes each of us unique. It makes us SPECIAL. Yup. I said it. We are special. *I* am special.

I spent a great deal of time speaking with my therapist about my negative self-image last week. She gave me homework... I LOVE the homework assignments she gives me. It always helps me to change my perspective on things. But I guess that's why I pay her the big bucks... she knows what she's talking about.

My homework was to ignore the negative self-talk, and focus on more positive things. Stop fretting about what my husband thinks when he sees me wearing shorts to bed, don't obsess over "what everyone is looking at," and only focus on what makes me happy. And you know what? IT'S WORKING. If I focus on what makes *me* feel good, and ignore that negative voice in my head, the one that has been there since childhood that worries about the people who are supposedly watching my every move and judging me... I'm actually a pretty happy girl.

If I don't feel comfortable in an outfit to wear to work, I'll pick something else. If I start to hear a voice in my head telling me that if I eat something it will make me fat... I turn the voice off and ask myself if I really want to eat that something. If I turn the question around and ask myself how I will FEEL after eating that something... I will listen to the answer. If I know it's something that will make me feel lousy afterwards, I will choose not to eat it. But if it's something magically delicious? I may indulge. NOT binge. And I'm not going to think about what someone else thinks if I do eat that something, because it's my decision and has nothing to do with them.

Yes, image is everything. How I see myself does reflect on how everyone else perceives me. If I see myself as a failure, nobody is going to see me as a success story. If I see myself as beautiful, it will exude and people will see the beauty that is inside me. The same for you - you need to FEEL and BELIEVE what is inside of you, and stop listening to the negative demons that we all have. Focus on the positivity instead, you will be a better person for it.

It's not easy. TRUST me. I'm 40 years old and I'm still learning how to live with myself and find out who I am. BUT, anything that is worth it will take some hard work. And the physical stuff is actually easy compared to the emotional overhaul. I'm starting to see that it's worth it.

I'm worth it.

You're worth it.

Recognizing recovery... a milestone

This past week, my husband and I took his son to Washington, DC for a family vacation. It was our first family vacation since we got married, and originally it was just going to be the two of them. I decided sort of last minute to join them. I was nervous, because even though I have been in their lives for more than 6 years, I have always been intimidated by his youngest son. Why? I have no idea, but it probably had a lot to do with how quickly I bonded with his oldest son who left us abruptly to go live with his mother a few years ago. I had been afraid to get "too attached" to the younger son as a result.

In spite of my fears, I had a blast. It was an amazing trip, and the little guy really enjoyed spending time with me and his dad. It was definitely the best decision I could have ever made to go on this vacation - I actually don't feel like an outsider any more, I feel like we are a family. A real family. Which is all I ever wanted.

The fourth day we were in DC, the boys went to the White House early in the morning and left me to go do what I wanted to do. I took a shower, and within ten minutes... had to evacuate. Fire alarms. "Please evacuate immediately - a fire emergency has been reported in the building. Please evacuate immediately..." Really?! So, without panic, with nothing but calm - I grabbed my pocketbook, my shoes, and made sure I had my room key and walked down 14 flights of stairs with the other building occupants.

I didn't realize it until later, but I was CALM! I'm not afraid any more!! What an incredible feeling!! I was so happy when I had this epiphany, and I can't wait to share this with my therapist. I had told her about my insecurities about taking this vacation, and she gave me "homework." To do something for myself - and I did SEVERAL times. I met up with a friend for lunch; I went to the Pentagon Memorial, and then the Holocaust Museum and African Art Museum by myself... and it was great. But the best part of the vacation was bonding with my stepson. I am sitting at home, after my husband dropped him off at his house, and I actually miss him.

One of the things that I took away from this vacation was at the Women in Military Memorial at the Arlington National Cemetery. It was a video of a soldier, who was talking about her own fears and doubts. She said that if she could conquer her greatest fears, she could do anything she wanted. And she's right. You can find strength within yourself by overcoming those fears inside you, and you are a super hero.

"Why me?" and "Unbearable Lightness"

out of habit, I've avoided reading books about subject matter that hit too close to home. Since I began intensive therapy, I have been finding that hearing about others' struggles and learning how they overcame them help me to find strength to cope with my own (or sometimes recognize the strength I didn't realize I had). Recently, I read two such books. The first is called "Why Me?" by Sarah Burleson and the second is "Unbearable Lightness" by Portia de Rossi.

I found "Why Me?" while doing a search on the Barnes & Noble website one day when I was bored and looking for something stimulating to read instead of my usual fluffy chic lit books. I downloaded the book after reading the summary and a few reviews and it remained on my nook for several weeks before I could summon the courage to open it. Sarah was raised by a very unstable and abusive mother, and reading what she went through was all too familiar. While my mother did not cheat on my biological father, she was rarely "there" growing up. Sarah's struggle to connect with friends because of the shame and embarassment she felt was all too familiar. I read this book and sometimes felt like I was reading my own story, as Sarah still does not have a relationship with her own mother even as an adult, never quite able to forgive or move on from the brutality that she was subjected to as a child. I highly recommend this story to anyone who has ever lived through an abusive situation, as it will inspire you to want to be better than the situations we have no control over as children.

The second story I downloaded was "Unbearable Lightness" by Portia de Rossi. I came across this story while I was shopping with my husband one Saturday night. We often browse through the aisles of the book store after going out to dinner, and look for new releases and ideas to download to our nook devices. I read the back cover of this story, knowing Portia from her being on "Ally McBeal," "Arrested Development," and a few other shows. I had always found her fascinating, and knew that she was a celebrity wife. I had no idea how fucked up her own disease had been, nor did I even know she had struggled her whole life with a positive body image and eating disorders.

Portia's writing style is a little bit rough, and at times fragmented, but the story resonated. She was a young girl when she started modeling, and someone once told her she needed to work out, which set the mindset in motion that she was never good enough. By the time she hit mainstream Hollywood, she became obsessed with perfection. What was perfection? She didn't know, because she was only focusing on what she did not like about her physical body. Little did she realize, she was hiding who she truly was - a gay woman living in a very closed-minded world.

Reading how someone who everyone saw as stunningly beautiful, feeling that she was ugly, fat, and not good enough blew my mind. I've often felt that way about myself, and never believe it when people pay me compliments. Instead, rebuffing those compliments as someone "just being nice," or "trying to make me feel good." Portia's insecurities made me realize something - even the most beautiful women in the world have felt the same exact way I did. And she starved herself to attain something unknown, and then binged herself to twice her body weight to hide from the world.

As a woman who has starved herself to be noticed by people, and then binged myself to where I am now... I am starting to "get it." Bingeing is something I did to protect myself from hurt - and dealing with the trauma that triggered this whole thing has helped me to realize that. I still have my moments where I want to eat everything in sight (usually every 28 or so days), but I am actually recognizing it, writing it down, and owning it. And I'm losing weight. I'm recovering. Slowly, but I'm getting there.

We are all beautiful. We are all strong. And we are all worth it. YOU have to remind yourself of that, because there is nobody on this earth that can tell you that where you will actually believe it. YOU have to believe it yourself.

well, hello, negative Nelly

Ugh.

that's all i can say to sum up how i have felt over the past week. sinus infection, double ear infection (and yes, i AM 40 years old, i thought crap like this only happened to babies...). i have no motivation to do anything. i started my workout routine Tuesday night as planned with a beginner yoga class which was AWEsome. so relaxing, a little bit challenging because my muscles have not moved that way in a very long time.

the next night, i did a half hour on the dreadmill. SLOWly, but i did it while watching "Arrested Development" on my iPad, so time passed very quickly. later that night, i woke up from a sound(ish) sleep to a slamming headache in my sinuses. and i knew. i just knew. so i've been on antibiotics since Thursday and i feel like dog.

i've been craving carbs like it's my job because i have had zero energy, and i really think the antibiotics make me hungrier than normal. as a woman with PCOS, carbs are my mortal enemy. the scale definitely did not reward me yesterday; i was up 1.4 pounds. my first gain in 10 weeks and i was ready for it but still EXTREMELY discouraged.

i don't see the weight loss. nobody has commented on the weight loss. i don't FEEL the weight loss (energy level, clothes fitting differently, nothing). i'm very negative this week, and i know it's totally normal to feel some level of frustration at this stage, but i want to throw in the towel so desperately but i've spent so much time and (money) on this that i'm just stubborn enough not to quit.

i need to prove Negative Nelly wrong. i *can* do this. Nelly is not my friend. she tells me things that i would never say to another person, and she's downright nasty. she looks at me and points out my flaws. she tells me i can't accomplish something. she even tells me that i'm not worth it.

Hey, Nelly? Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

another week, and i'm at 15.8 pounds down.

i am Kristin. hear me ROAR!!!

Two months into my JC experience and i am 16 pounds down!

I have been feeling bad about not feeling that "it" feeling about losing weight, you know... that glowy, honeymoonie, energetic weight loss feeling. i haven't had that yet. it's been really discouraging, and i thought for sure that this wasn't working.

it. is. freakin. working!

NOT a lot of weight loss for people to start noticing it, but the numbers don't lie. my size 16 jeans are more comfortable and don't make it hard to sit down after i eat... my sweaters don't make me feel like i'm an elephant trying to wear a giraffe suit... i just feel better about how i look.

i still have such a long way to go, but i'm determined to get there. and when i do... i'm staying. this feels too good to want to leave and go back to the tired, unhealthy, wanting to hide in my shell, angry bitch that i have been for the past... oh, four years.

i still haven't found the old me hiding under all these layers of flab, but i'm starting to see evidence that she's in there somewhere. i'm going to find her and give her a hug for sticking by me even when i have been intolerable.

tomorrow - i start phase 2. EXERCISE. gulp. i am afraid of doing it, because i'm afraid of frustration - but i'm going to approach it the same way that i have been approaching my experience with Jenny. i'm just going to do it. eventually, i will feel the rewards.

Great apps...

Stress management has been my focus the past couple of weeks. (shocking, right?)

i found a couple of really great apps in the iTunes store that have really helped me to tone down the "ugly" feelings, the "dark clouds," and fleeting thoughts.

1. Stress Free - this app has a guided meditation that is daily, for a minimum of 3 weeks. The "coach," Andrew Johnson, has a kind of lilty accent that reminds me of Sean Connery (one of my old man crushes) and he keeps me engaged. I have not done the full 3 weeks yet, but i do find that the breathing exercises are helpful.

2. RELAX Stress & Anxiety Relief - this app has different levels of breathing exercises, for different durations of time depending on your schedule. This app is great for those moments you are having a little anxiety or when you need some help falling asleep. There are exercises for beginners, intermediate, and more advanced users.

3. PTSD Coach - my therapist actually recommended this one for me to try. You customize your "safe" places, pictures, songs, and you take a quiz to assess your level of stress. Developed by the department of veteran affairs for soldiers returning from war, this app has great tools, along with therapy, to manage your PTSD. Best of all - IT'S FREE!

4. Bejeweled Blitz - OK, so it's just a game, but it really does make you focus on the task at hand and when you turn the sound off, it really does help you ease out of whatever is preoccupying your mind. Sometimes, that's all we need... just to get out of our head.

And those are my top four suggestions. I am going to look at other apps to see what else is out there, but as a beginner in trying some homeopathic/yogic/nonstandard methods to get my stress levels under control these tools are pretty awesome.

As far as my PTSD is concerned, I haven't been as hyper vigilant about my fire aversion. I've been lighting candles around the house and not obsessing at night whether the embers are going to touch off a speck of dust into a towering inferno. Nor have I been calling municipalities, the Red Cross, other other agencies when there have been fires that have affected families in my community. I did read today about an apartment complex two towns away that lost an entire building containing 10 apartments, that resulted in another building being evacuated indefinitely from smoke damage - and I want to donate some extra furniture that the hubi and I have been storing in the garage. Helps me by helping free up the space in my garage for my car, but it also helps them by giving them something they clearly need. I'm not overextending myself by making financial contributions like I would want to under "normal" circumstances.

Wanting to help someone in need isn't a bad thing, right? I think anyone in this situation would want to do something to make a difference.

On my schedule for this week - I want to check out a women's only yoga class on Wednesday night. I've read a few reviews on Yelp! that make me want to give it a shot. I can't do hot yoga, and this studio is one of the few that still offers hatha yoga classes. I'm a little nervous, but excited at the same time. Namaste.