Unsure of current weight...will find out soon, last checked 323. OMG are you fucking kidding me? i'm really that fat?!?! how did i let it get so out of control? how do i not care enough about myself to stop.... ok this is where the beginning again shit comes to play, i've got to re teach myself how to eat, how to act, how to live....
this is not me, i am not a fat girl.....i'm just not!!
so, i am walking daily now, and have almost transitioned to diet soda's, not a huge leap, but it's something....drinking more water, and trying hard to not eat as much, and eat healthier...
i am getting married to the most wonderul man in june, i don't want to be a fat bride...
i will always be bigger, but i don't want to be this big.. i want to be proud of myself, and have some fucking confidence when i say "i do".
today: i ate an everything bagel with cream cheese, an apple with a little yogurt and granola, a chicken salad sandwich with lettuce and tomato, fries and a medium dr. pepper; a bag of caramel creme candies, another two diet dr. peppers, some baked lays chips, and lasagna for dinner...holy fuck no wonder i'm a cow!!!!
but also, i walked after work, down to 5th, (one block), then to day ave, (4 blocks), then to 10th st. (5 blocks), and then to elm (one block), then home by way of elm (5 blocks) back to 5th from elm (one block) from 5th to home (one block)...so 18 blocks...not a marathon, but pretty damn good i think....
o.k. more tomorrow....
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
lonely nights...and orange flowers
i am missing my son tonight, i don't think about him like i used to, he is not always on the forefront of my mind as he once was...i hate this....mothers don't forget about their babies...and i feel like i am slowly forgetting mine. i don't remember how he smelt, or how he felt in my arms...i forget how beautiful he was, how small he was....how the pattern of his hair laid.....he would be
4 1/2 now, he would be my little man...instead he is a fading memory, a thought on a lonely night.
sometimes i still get so fucking mad that he is not here, and i want answers!! but know that there are none out there...i am told i ill never be able to have more, and maybe that's a good thing, maybe it is all for the best that i don't have children, maybe it's God way of telling me i'm not fit...whatever it is i miss my son..i miss my little eddie.
4 1/2 now, he would be my little man...instead he is a fading memory, a thought on a lonely night.
sometimes i still get so fucking mad that he is not here, and i want answers!! but know that there are none out there...i am told i ill never be able to have more, and maybe that's a good thing, maybe it is all for the best that i don't have children, maybe it's God way of telling me i'm not fit...whatever it is i miss my son..i miss my little eddie.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
today
today shaun and i went to the movies, and then out to dinner with friends, it was fabolous!!
it's super late an i don't know why i'm blogging cuz i ain't got SHIT to say....
except: i have a new job, and i know that i am going to love it, but i will have to leave my clients..which is breaking my heart...they have been so much a part of my life for the last year and i truly cannot imagine life without them :( and the saddest thing is when i tell them i won't be there to pick them up next week they don't really understand, and i just don't want them to think i've abandoned them, that i don't love them because i do love them...working with mentally retarted adults has been the most rewarding job i have ever had, and as much as they may need me i need them so much more, they are my clients, my support system, my job, but above all my friends! can you dig it?? :)
it's super late an i don't know why i'm blogging cuz i ain't got SHIT to say....
except: i have a new job, and i know that i am going to love it, but i will have to leave my clients..which is breaking my heart...they have been so much a part of my life for the last year and i truly cannot imagine life without them :( and the saddest thing is when i tell them i won't be there to pick them up next week they don't really understand, and i just don't want them to think i've abandoned them, that i don't love them because i do love them...working with mentally retarted adults has been the most rewarding job i have ever had, and as much as they may need me i need them so much more, they are my clients, my support system, my job, but above all my friends! can you dig it?? :)
Saturday, January 31, 2009
i've been sick for an eternity, stuck inside a shoebox apartment, with no room to run, no space to roll around....i'm bored beyond belief, with nothing to do except talk to myself.....i annoy me...
at this point my voice is hoarse due to my never ending cold and sore throat, and when i talk it sounds like a little peep and it's really getting on my nerves....
fyi: i don't write about politics, religion, or really anything that could be enlightning to one's mind...
these are only my thoughts, and although i have my own political and religous belief's, they are mine. and not a concern of anyone else's...
more on my blogs: i don't like to capitalize, my grammer won't be perfect, and i don't bother much with punctuation...not to say when i'm writing a formal paper, or letter i neglect all that good stuff, like i said these are my thoughts..and my mind whirls around so fast it doesnt have time for all that punctuation and jazz....
anyway- peace out
at this point my voice is hoarse due to my never ending cold and sore throat, and when i talk it sounds like a little peep and it's really getting on my nerves....
fyi: i don't write about politics, religion, or really anything that could be enlightning to one's mind...
these are only my thoughts, and although i have my own political and religous belief's, they are mine. and not a concern of anyone else's...
more on my blogs: i don't like to capitalize, my grammer won't be perfect, and i don't bother much with punctuation...not to say when i'm writing a formal paper, or letter i neglect all that good stuff, like i said these are my thoughts..and my mind whirls around so fast it doesnt have time for all that punctuation and jazz....
anyway- peace out
this was a cause and effect essay for an eng. class...
The Cause of my Affect
I never fully understood how one person can effect your life so much it could shape who you are, until I realized I was an Adult Child of an Alcoholic and I found out why I was the way I am. I finally understand the cause of my affect.
I am paranoid of the world around me, unsure of the life that envelops me. I trust very few people and even if I think I trust you deep in my heart I know I don’t, and never will. Because of this I have but a few close friends. I struggle with letting myself get close to people, that way it won’t sting so bad when they hurt me. My perception of a “healthy” relationship is so jaded it’s beyond repair.
I lose everything, from cell phones, to keys, to drivers licenses (I’ve had 4 of them). I have to keep back up keys to my car hidden because if I don’t I’d never be able to go anywhere. I lost my main set of keys last week, I found them today in a target bag on my floor. I lost my phone book one time and found it months later in the bathroom under the sink with my extra shampoo.
I struggle to express myself verbally, and usually lose the battle. I am unable to express emotions, instead I clam up and don’t talk. My feelings get so jumbled in my head; I cry when I should be laughing, and laugh when I should be scared. In my mind I know what I want to say or feel, but can’t convey that to the public.
I am so spacey and dingy that once when it was raining and I drove under a bridge I thought the rain had stopped until I came out the other side. My thoughts change direction so fast it could make your head spin. I find it nearly impossible to think on one subject for more than 30 seconds. My mind races constantly.
I panic over everything from Global Warming to being diagnosed with Cancer, to if my dog really loves me. My panic attacks got so bad that in the tenth grade I missed eighty-nine days of school, and had to appeal my absences. I’ve been on countless anti-anxiety meds, but have ultimately decided to deal with it. Although fear consumes probably ninety-five percent of my time.
I have had high blood pressure since the eighth grade, due mostly to stress. My life stays in a heaping knot of tension. I lose sleep over this, and have stress related back problems too. But have found that I don’t deal well with my life when it’s not in constant disarray.
All of these things stem from just one man, one alcoholic: My father. I have only recently discovered that this is why I am the way I am; this is the reason I am no longer close to my father. I still love him very much, and always will. Without him, I wouldn’t be me: To not have sat in a bar with him at age three; to not have had to pick him up out of the floor when he got too drunk and fell from his wheelchair; to not have seen him all bruised and broken after his drinking-related accidents, would change who I am, who I have been, and who I will be. And despite all my faults and my wide array of problems, I’m okay with being me.
I never fully understood how one person can effect your life so much it could shape who you are, until I realized I was an Adult Child of an Alcoholic and I found out why I was the way I am. I finally understand the cause of my affect.
I am paranoid of the world around me, unsure of the life that envelops me. I trust very few people and even if I think I trust you deep in my heart I know I don’t, and never will. Because of this I have but a few close friends. I struggle with letting myself get close to people, that way it won’t sting so bad when they hurt me. My perception of a “healthy” relationship is so jaded it’s beyond repair.
I lose everything, from cell phones, to keys, to drivers licenses (I’ve had 4 of them). I have to keep back up keys to my car hidden because if I don’t I’d never be able to go anywhere. I lost my main set of keys last week, I found them today in a target bag on my floor. I lost my phone book one time and found it months later in the bathroom under the sink with my extra shampoo.
I struggle to express myself verbally, and usually lose the battle. I am unable to express emotions, instead I clam up and don’t talk. My feelings get so jumbled in my head; I cry when I should be laughing, and laugh when I should be scared. In my mind I know what I want to say or feel, but can’t convey that to the public.
I am so spacey and dingy that once when it was raining and I drove under a bridge I thought the rain had stopped until I came out the other side. My thoughts change direction so fast it could make your head spin. I find it nearly impossible to think on one subject for more than 30 seconds. My mind races constantly.
I panic over everything from Global Warming to being diagnosed with Cancer, to if my dog really loves me. My panic attacks got so bad that in the tenth grade I missed eighty-nine days of school, and had to appeal my absences. I’ve been on countless anti-anxiety meds, but have ultimately decided to deal with it. Although fear consumes probably ninety-five percent of my time.
I have had high blood pressure since the eighth grade, due mostly to stress. My life stays in a heaping knot of tension. I lose sleep over this, and have stress related back problems too. But have found that I don’t deal well with my life when it’s not in constant disarray.
All of these things stem from just one man, one alcoholic: My father. I have only recently discovered that this is why I am the way I am; this is the reason I am no longer close to my father. I still love him very much, and always will. Without him, I wouldn’t be me: To not have sat in a bar with him at age three; to not have had to pick him up out of the floor when he got too drunk and fell from his wheelchair; to not have seen him all bruised and broken after his drinking-related accidents, would change who I am, who I have been, and who I will be. And despite all my faults and my wide array of problems, I’m okay with being me.
an old english paper....
Untitled
To hear my life story you might assume I am a pessimist, and perhaps to some degree I am.
But will hold on to the feeling that I am an optimist until my dying breath. It is my firm belief that in life you can choose to laugh, or cry at any situation thrown your way, I now after 25 years choose laughter! It is after all said to be life's best medicine. Throughout my life I have beenburdened with stressful, depressing, and tragic life altering events. Like at age seven my father was driving drunk and put himself in a wheelchair for the remainder of his life. Or when I was a pre-teen and was raped by a boy that I would later have a science class with in the tenth grade. In 1999 on April Fool's Day the house I grew up in burnt to the ground in seventeen minutes flat. I have been addicted to cocaine, dependant on drugs to get me through the day. My boyfriend of three years held a knife to my neck one night when I was twenty three and threatened my life.I have been plagued my whole existence with severe anxiety, which some mornings makes it impossible to even get out of bed. Because of all the trauma I had endured I had become very pessimistic, I had settled into the fact that life would never treat me well. And then the most horrific event of my life happened, and perhaps my optimistic views came into play here; when I lost my son. My world was shaken to it's very core. And I came to realize that this moment in time would be no matter what, the worst of my life.
On February 10th, 2005, at 12:46 a.m. my little Eddie was born, weighing in at a mere 14.5 oz. and measuring just 11 inches long. He was completely perfect, only born to early; and not
meant for this world. I got to hold him, kiss him, fall in love with him, have him baptized,
and imagine what my life would have been like with him in it; and then at 4:00 a.m.; I got to
hand him back to the nurse so she could take him to the morgue.
When I was discharged from the hospital that same morning, I had to kiss him for the last
time. His eyes closed, his lips turned upward as if he were smiling at me, and he was colder
than cold. Kissing his tiny forehead, it was if I were pressing my lips against a block of ice
in the Arctic. It was at that very moment everything I knew about life flew out the window
of room 254. This is where I become an optimist.
I had a decision to make; I could let this one event ruin my life, or I could become a better
person because of it. So I gave myself one year to grieve for my son, twelve months to feel
any kind of way I wanted to. I could be sad, mad, angry, confused, selfish gloomy,
irrational, or despondent. 365 days to feel, grieve, be overcome with every emotion in the
world, mend my heartache; and then I would move on.
52 weeks to the day that my son died I put the past where it belonged, and began moving
forward. In the year I took to mourn I had plenty of time to reflect on life, and what it meant
to me. I realized that I had been through hell and back several times over, dealt with more
than some could tolerate. And still managed to come out on top. So I now live by one strict
rule:
In the game of life anything catastrophic that can happen ; will. And it's going to hurt,
injure, disfigure, crush, and sting. Life will devastate, confuse, and turn you around so you
don't know which way is up. But living is not about the misfortune, it's about how you deal
with the catastrophe you have been handed. Wounds heal, pain subsides, anxiety calms,
grief diminishes. And after it all, I've learned to live with a broken heart. So even though I
know there is another calamity waiting for me around the bend. I embrace it, because I
know after the heartache I will be a better, stronger, wiser woman.
To hear my life story you might assume I am a pessimist, and perhaps to some degree I am.
But will hold on to the feeling that I am an optimist until my dying breath. It is my firm belief that in life you can choose to laugh, or cry at any situation thrown your way, I now after 25 years choose laughter! It is after all said to be life's best medicine. Throughout my life I have beenburdened with stressful, depressing, and tragic life altering events. Like at age seven my father was driving drunk and put himself in a wheelchair for the remainder of his life. Or when I was a pre-teen and was raped by a boy that I would later have a science class with in the tenth grade. In 1999 on April Fool's Day the house I grew up in burnt to the ground in seventeen minutes flat. I have been addicted to cocaine, dependant on drugs to get me through the day. My boyfriend of three years held a knife to my neck one night when I was twenty three and threatened my life.I have been plagued my whole existence with severe anxiety, which some mornings makes it impossible to even get out of bed. Because of all the trauma I had endured I had become very pessimistic, I had settled into the fact that life would never treat me well. And then the most horrific event of my life happened, and perhaps my optimistic views came into play here; when I lost my son. My world was shaken to it's very core. And I came to realize that this moment in time would be no matter what, the worst of my life.
On February 10th, 2005, at 12:46 a.m. my little Eddie was born, weighing in at a mere 14.5 oz. and measuring just 11 inches long. He was completely perfect, only born to early; and not
meant for this world. I got to hold him, kiss him, fall in love with him, have him baptized,
and imagine what my life would have been like with him in it; and then at 4:00 a.m.; I got to
hand him back to the nurse so she could take him to the morgue.
When I was discharged from the hospital that same morning, I had to kiss him for the last
time. His eyes closed, his lips turned upward as if he were smiling at me, and he was colder
than cold. Kissing his tiny forehead, it was if I were pressing my lips against a block of ice
in the Arctic. It was at that very moment everything I knew about life flew out the window
of room 254. This is where I become an optimist.
I had a decision to make; I could let this one event ruin my life, or I could become a better
person because of it. So I gave myself one year to grieve for my son, twelve months to feel
any kind of way I wanted to. I could be sad, mad, angry, confused, selfish gloomy,
irrational, or despondent. 365 days to feel, grieve, be overcome with every emotion in the
world, mend my heartache; and then I would move on.
52 weeks to the day that my son died I put the past where it belonged, and began moving
forward. In the year I took to mourn I had plenty of time to reflect on life, and what it meant
to me. I realized that I had been through hell and back several times over, dealt with more
than some could tolerate. And still managed to come out on top. So I now live by one strict
rule:
In the game of life anything catastrophic that can happen ; will. And it's going to hurt,
injure, disfigure, crush, and sting. Life will devastate, confuse, and turn you around so you
don't know which way is up. But living is not about the misfortune, it's about how you deal
with the catastrophe you have been handed. Wounds heal, pain subsides, anxiety calms,
grief diminishes. And after it all, I've learned to live with a broken heart. So even though I
know there is another calamity waiting for me around the bend. I embrace it, because I
know after the heartache I will be a better, stronger, wiser woman.
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