It's all complex
March 13, 2011
Is this where I thought I would be 15 years ago? No way. Is this where I thought I would be even 10 years ago? No. 5? If I thought about it hard, I might have seen it, but pretty unlikely.
I realize frequently that I should be writing more. I need it as a source of release that I know I don’t use often enough. In a very odd way I blog in my head rather often. I’m just not sure why I fail to put it down in type. I used to journal rather frequently in high school. And I realize more and more, even if no one is listing anymore, I just have to get some things out into the universe.
Things have been tough on me the last few years. I’m not going to own up anyone else’s pain right now, anyone else difficulties, because they are their own, and I do it all the time. I frequently not only compare my life to theirs but I disregard my pain for someone else’s. Thinking; what I have been (and am) going through does not really add up to much in the scheme of things. That it’s not nearly as bad as someone else’s pain, and therefore not nearly as important, thus devaluing my pain, along with devaluing myself.
Things have been scary. Difficult. And not at all as predicted and even prepared for. But I being who I am, I don’t really see how I could have prepared for all of this anyway.
I cannot ignore my parents death and the loss of my house in my current life. I move on sure, but so much of my heart is still there. Still aching, still lonely, still dark, still in pain. There are so many days that pass that I just wish I had a telephone linking me to my father. Don’t get me wrong, I want to see him and hug him, but even just if I could have 2 phone calls a year to talk to him. To say “I just don’t know what to do.” To tell him I’m scared, to say “I miss you. I love you.” And to just hear his replies. To hear his voice. And any amount of thinking about it causes me to range from tearing up to complete breakdown.
It’s strange. I’m a girl who tries her best to not hold grudges. They contaminate you and just cloud you with unnecessary bad feelings. This is of course not to say I’m not still angry with some people. I am. But I hold onto things in a much different way, and releasing them seems so impossible. I have a difficult time doing it at all. And when I do, it is this horrifically slow process for me. Seems like everything is a horrifically slow process for me.
The most current issue has been my health. Which I will admit, while I have had bouts of little things here and there (pneumonia, strep throat, broken wrist), it’s never been to this degree of issues that not only scare me, but they seem to pile up. I have been so fatigued and in pain more often than I want to tell people. Mostly because I don’t want to burden anyone with my pain. Why should I? what can they do but worry? They can’t cover my medical bills or get me tested. And it would only be adding to a list of an already very busy life for them. I don’t need to complicate theirs anymore. And to be honest, I would rather listen to someone else more than hearing myself. Who wants to listen to someone constantly talk about how sick they feel so much of the time? I don’t even have answers for half the crap going on with me anyhow.
I’m working on loosing weight this year. Which was not just a new years resolution I made and forgot about come Jan 10th. I have been doing the best I know how to eat better and work towards my goal. With this I have had more health problems arise. Which naturally has made things more scary. It’s horrible just waiting for answers. It’s horrible knowing how much doctors visits and tests cost. And realizing more and more how unemployed you are. Realizing that most of the government plans can’t help you, because you don’t fit the right form to get help. And watching money you live on go to all these things, making that money smaller and smaller.
Most of the time I feel unemployable anyhow. I don’t feel well so often, and I feel like I have no skills anymore. And cannot possibly survive on my own making minimum wage at jamba juice. All that brings a very special type of pain. The kind that brings on throbbing in my head. I honestly have very little self esteem left in me anymore.
Granted I have lost weight this year. Which is wonderful. It’s the best thing about this year so far. No joke. Of course my scale has broken. Which some would say is a good thing, but weighing myself once a day was that slight encouragement. Saying “look, something is happening, don’t give up.” Of course some days it said “get off me fatty”. But no relationship is perfect.
According to doctors visits and such I’ve lost somewhere between 12-15 pounds this year. Which is nice and all, but a long way from where I need to be. I know what I made my goal for the year. Which I did in hopes of being reasonable. I don’t want to put a goal on myself that is crazy unrealistic and likewise depressing. However as of late I think I have stopped loosing weight which has been very discouraging. Because I have not really changed my eating habits. Which probably means I have hit a plateau. Ugh. The freaking plateau. Which means my arch nemesis. Working out.
Exercise and I just are not buddies. We should be, but are not. And it’s difficult. In my head I have lost 40 pounds in the past without working out, purely with what I ate. So I get annoyed that I can’t do that again. I get annoyed to think I need to loose 40 pounds again instead of needing to loose like 20. what the crap.
I guarantee someone reading this (if someone did) will go 40 pounds? Are you crazy? That’s a lot of weight! You don’t need to loose that much! Dear sweet sweet person that you are. Yes I do. And not because I’m trying to be some anorexic girl with no shape. That’s just to get me down to a shape that’s not just…. Well fat. And hopefully somewhere that is pretty healthy. And if I want much in life, I think it’s become a pretty necessary step.
Once again, I’m not including anyone else in this. In this struggle pain or journey. It’s mine. It’s my perspective on my body. Other people’s bodies are just that, their bodies. I’m not looking to judge, just state my own personal facts.
Granted, it’s nice to put on clothing that is too big because it used to fit just right. But I have plenty more that are still way too tight or don’t fit. Half the time I need to be wearing really baggy clothing anyhow because of the physical issues clothing seem to cause. Just a bit of pressure on like 2 different areas of my body cause all kinds of unrest and pain in my body these days. And stupidly, this makes it difficult to do simple things, like go to job interviews, and grocery shopping. I could go everywhere in sweats and pajama pants with cats on them, but it does make me look like a bum. And when I wear regular pants I literally have to walk around holding them up, because wearing a belt causes problems.
I’m trying to heal in more ways than one. It’s just overwhelming.
I had to realize that this year is just going to have to be more about that than anything else. Getting better (hopefully) and gearing up. I’m just not going to be where I want to this year, and it’s just what it is. But trust me, that’s a difficult thing in itself to just be ok with.
I try to put out a positive persona, and stay focused on good things. Looking for them. And that is a part of who I am, I just do it even more around others. In Christmas letters, in conversations, in e-mails. I know people care, but I also know they have their own responsibilities, and the bottom line is, I’m not one of them. Well, I’m not high on that list. And I shouldn’t be. That’s ok, because it’s right. I’m not at the top of my list. Why should I be on anyone else’s? Well, I’m at the top of my list now, but yeah. I used to be much higher on others, but that’s all gone now.
Some days I feel like a weird refugee from this disaster that hit. Where so much was taken away from me, wiping out life as I knew it and everyone I spent my daily life with. My loved ones. To bare bones uneomtionalize it, my emergency contacts.
It’s so stupid. I fill out forms and I’m asked for that. Something that for most people is a no brainer. Your emergency contact. And I always have to take this weird pause. I think: “I don’t know…. No one?” and then I come up with a name, and write it down. What was really wonderful was when I was asked “in case of your death….” And I thought again “no one? Who the hell would want all my stuff? Who would want to deal with it? Would it all just get thrown into a dumpster? Would no one sort through it? Would anyone care enough to spend the time?” it’s stupid. No brainers to most, a huge complicated question to me.
I don’t have any clue how long I will be here. And I don’t mean on earth, I just mean in this terrible limbo place where things are painful and a struggle. Well, perhaps that is earth. And it seems like I won’t ever come out. It feels like I’ve been here so long I can’t get out. And yet sometimes, it’s like it’s only been months.
Is this where I thought I would be 15 years ago? No way. Is this where I thought I would be even 10 years ago? No. 5? If I thought about it hard, I might have seen it, but pretty unlikely.
I realize frequently that I should be writing more. I need it as a source of release that I know I don’t use often enough. In a very odd way I blog in my head rather often. I’m just not sure why I fail to put it down in type. I used to journal rather frequently in high school. And I realize more and more, even if no one is listing anymore, I just have to get some things out into the universe.
Things have been tough on me the last few years. I’m not going to own up anyone else’s pain right now, anyone else difficulties, because they are their own, and I do it all the time. I frequently not only compare my life to theirs but I disregard my pain for someone else’s. Thinking; what I have been (and am) going through does not really add up to much in the scheme of things. That it’s not nearly as bad as someone else’s pain, and therefore not nearly as important, thus devaluing my pain, along with devaluing myself.
Things have been scary. Difficult. And not at all as predicted and even prepared for. But I being who I am, I don’t really see how I could have prepared for all of this anyway.
I cannot ignore my parents death and the loss of my house in my current life. I move on sure, but so much of my heart is still there. Still aching, still lonely, still dark, still in pain. There are so many days that pass that I just wish I had a telephone linking me to my father. Don’t get me wrong, I want to see him and hug him, but even just if I could have 2 phone calls a year to talk to him. To say “I just don’t know what to do.” To tell him I’m scared, to say “I miss you. I love you.” And to just hear his replies. To hear his voice. And any amount of thinking about it causes me to range from tearing up to complete breakdown.
It’s strange. I’m a girl who tries her best to not hold grudges. They contaminate you and just cloud you with unnecessary bad feelings. This is of course not to say I’m not still angry with some people. I am. But I hold onto things in a much different way, and releasing them seems so impossible. I have a difficult time doing it at all. And when I do, it is this horrifically slow process for me. Seems like everything is a horrifically slow process for me.
The most current issue has been my health. Which I will admit, while I have had bouts of little things here and there (pneumonia, strep throat, broken wrist), it’s never been to this degree of issues that not only scare me, but they seem to pile up. I have been so fatigued and in pain more often than I want to tell people. Mostly because I don’t want to burden anyone with my pain. Why should I? what can they do but worry? They can’t cover my medical bills or get me tested. And it would only be adding to a list of an already very busy life for them. I don’t need to complicate theirs anymore. And to be honest, I would rather listen to someone else more than hearing myself. Who wants to listen to someone constantly talk about how sick they feel so much of the time? I don’t even have answers for half the crap going on with me anyhow.
I’m working on loosing weight this year. Which was not just a new years resolution I made and forgot about come Jan 10th. I have been doing the best I know how to eat better and work towards my goal. With this I have had more health problems arise. Which naturally has made things more scary. It’s horrible just waiting for answers. It’s horrible knowing how much doctors visits and tests cost. And realizing more and more how unemployed you are. Realizing that most of the government plans can’t help you, because you don’t fit the right form to get help. And watching money you live on go to all these things, making that money smaller and smaller.
Most of the time I feel unemployable anyhow. I don’t feel well so often, and I feel like I have no skills anymore. And cannot possibly survive on my own making minimum wage at jamba juice. All that brings a very special type of pain. The kind that brings on throbbing in my head. I honestly have very little self esteem left in me anymore.
Granted I have lost weight this year. Which is wonderful. It’s the best thing about this year so far. No joke. Of course my scale has broken. Which some would say is a good thing, but weighing myself once a day was that slight encouragement. Saying “look, something is happening, don’t give up.” Of course some days it said “get off me fatty”. But no relationship is perfect.
According to doctors visits and such I’ve lost somewhere between 12-15 pounds this year. Which is nice and all, but a long way from where I need to be. I know what I made my goal for the year. Which I did in hopes of being reasonable. I don’t want to put a goal on myself that is crazy unrealistic and likewise depressing. However as of late I think I have stopped loosing weight which has been very discouraging. Because I have not really changed my eating habits. Which probably means I have hit a plateau. Ugh. The freaking plateau. Which means my arch nemesis. Working out.
Exercise and I just are not buddies. We should be, but are not. And it’s difficult. In my head I have lost 40 pounds in the past without working out, purely with what I ate. So I get annoyed that I can’t do that again. I get annoyed to think I need to loose 40 pounds again instead of needing to loose like 20. what the crap.
I guarantee someone reading this (if someone did) will go 40 pounds? Are you crazy? That’s a lot of weight! You don’t need to loose that much! Dear sweet sweet person that you are. Yes I do. And not because I’m trying to be some anorexic girl with no shape. That’s just to get me down to a shape that’s not just…. Well fat. And hopefully somewhere that is pretty healthy. And if I want much in life, I think it’s become a pretty necessary step.
Once again, I’m not including anyone else in this. In this struggle pain or journey. It’s mine. It’s my perspective on my body. Other people’s bodies are just that, their bodies. I’m not looking to judge, just state my own personal facts.
Granted, it’s nice to put on clothing that is too big because it used to fit just right. But I have plenty more that are still way too tight or don’t fit. Half the time I need to be wearing really baggy clothing anyhow because of the physical issues clothing seem to cause. Just a bit of pressure on like 2 different areas of my body cause all kinds of unrest and pain in my body these days. And stupidly, this makes it difficult to do simple things, like go to job interviews, and grocery shopping. I could go everywhere in sweats and pajama pants with cats on them, but it does make me look like a bum. And when I wear regular pants I literally have to walk around holding them up, because wearing a belt causes problems.
I’m trying to heal in more ways than one. It’s just overwhelming.
I had to realize that this year is just going to have to be more about that than anything else. Getting better (hopefully) and gearing up. I’m just not going to be where I want to this year, and it’s just what it is. But trust me, that’s a difficult thing in itself to just be ok with.
I try to put out a positive persona, and stay focused on good things. Looking for them. And that is a part of who I am, I just do it even more around others. In Christmas letters, in conversations, in e-mails. I know people care, but I also know they have their own responsibilities, and the bottom line is, I’m not one of them. Well, I’m not high on that list. And I shouldn’t be. That’s ok, because it’s right. I’m not at the top of my list. Why should I be on anyone else’s? Well, I’m at the top of my list now, but yeah. I used to be much higher on others, but that’s all gone now.
Some days I feel like a weird refugee from this disaster that hit. Where so much was taken away from me, wiping out life as I knew it and everyone I spent my daily life with. My loved ones. To bare bones uneomtionalize it, my emergency contacts.
It’s so stupid. I fill out forms and I’m asked for that. Something that for most people is a no brainer. Your emergency contact. And I always have to take this weird pause. I think: “I don’t know…. No one?” and then I come up with a name, and write it down. What was really wonderful was when I was asked “in case of your death….” And I thought again “no one? Who the hell would want all my stuff? Who would want to deal with it? Would it all just get thrown into a dumpster? Would no one sort through it? Would anyone care enough to spend the time?” it’s stupid. No brainers to most, a huge complicated question to me.
I don’t have any clue how long I will be here. And I don’t mean on earth, I just mean in this terrible limbo place where things are painful and a struggle. Well, perhaps that is earth. And it seems like I won’t ever come out. It feels like I’ve been here so long I can’t get out. And yet sometimes, it’s like it’s only been months.