Body Love

Confession. I actually stepped on the scale the other day. I knew in my mind that this might not be a wise choice. But I have been working more on self-compassion and self-love particularly in this area lately. I tend to like to "test" myself when it comes to things I'm working on. I like to know whether or not what I have been doing has had any effect on my mindset and knee-jerk emotional response.

So, yep, I stepped up there feeling heavy and bloated. I stepped on there knowing it was probably going to be an unreasonably high number (for me). I mean I have been eating like crazy since the pandemic kind of secluded us to our homes for 2 months. I got bored and would eat and eat....and eat....and eat. And I have always been way more successful at increasing my body size than I ever have been at shrinking it. And the number, well it was high, just as I had expected. Surpassed my pregnancy weight.

But I want to tell you something really remarkable about that moment. I saw those numbers and my mind resonated with something my friend and yoga instructor said recently. That our bodies go through phases. And regardless of where we're at, it doesn't mean we can't change, but we'll never see real change if we're using self-abuse to get there. Being patient with myself in the midst of chaos has not been easy. Honestly, I kind of allowed the chaos to take over there for a bit. But I'm done with that now. I can name the things I can control. And while I might not lose weight doing it, I know two things for a fact:

1) My body size does not calculate my human worth/value.
and
2) Everyone who loves me now still loves me regardless of my body size at the moment.

Those numbers didn't crush me. And that was a profound moment for me to realize. I am seeing progress for myself in so many ways and I am so happy that I have never given up on myself.

Do Not Underestimate the Combination of Persistence & Strength

The river does not cut through the mountain solely because of its strength, 

but also because of its persistence. 

This is not the correct phrase. Usually, the phrase disregards the strength in exchange for persistence. I tend to disagree about them being mutually exclusive.

I have breathed oxygen with my own mouth and lungs for a bit over 36 years now. And I can honestly tell you that I cannot recall a time in my life that I did not have to be afraid. If there was a time, my mind has removed that memory from me. But as far as my mind knows, I have lived almost my entire life in fear, in flight. I have a small handful of good memories. And at the moment I'm actually diving into ones I have tried to avoid for years.

So, it's been a challenge. But at the same time, I have suddenly discovered something I never had before - - - freedom.

I FB stalked my cousin. The one who left the most profound dark mark on me. He took advantage of a young child and made her feel like she had an obligation to allow him to touch her in ways no one ever has before. It was horrifying. As a child. As an adult. I took those darknesses and boxed them up tighter than I ever knew. But after my first phase of EMDR therapy, I can honestly say I feel like I am in an alien place.

I have never thought of this person's face without disgust or shame. For him, for what happened, and towards myself. But some of that thinking was way wrong. I was just a little girl. A child. It was NOT my fault. I was not at fault for some sick person using me for their sick personal gain. It was not my fault for being a child, and not knowing how to respond to such an attack on my personal and private self.

I had not realized how much I still carried self-blame for what happened to me. But when I opened the box, out came all this self-hate and blame. And I had to process that. I had to face it and re-dictate my inner dialogue.

And it has been so hard. I saw this phrase about a river cutting through a mountain, not because of its strength, but because of its persistence. It bothered me a little. Because I think the strength of that river is underestimated. Sure maybe on the surface, it looks cool and calm, but underneath it's raging, cutting rocks, moving soil, changing the landscape. And that takes strength. Not to mention the fact that the current could sweep you away in a moment.

So, I am in a strange place right now. Strange in the sense that I feel things I never felt before, like real joy and peace. Then I become worried about my vulnerability. I feel exposed. Unsafe. Unprotected. But each time I take a step forward I am met with loving hands and caring hearts. It's strange to say that it's weird to feel genuine joy. Sustained genuine joy even!

And, if I'm being honest, I'm not entirely convinced yet that it is sustained. I've been up and down this coaster all my life. And the dips just keep getting deeper and darker. I don't want to ride it forever, but I am not entirely convinced yet that it's possible to get off this ride.

But, if it is any consolation...I am hopeful. It's my only thread. The one that keeps me going. That little teeny thread of hope...

that one of these days I will be free from my past completely.

Opening Pandora's Box

 

   I have been unwrapping my tightly closed box of trauma for the past couple months.

   And it's been ugly.

     I've been ugly. I have exploded with despair and sabotaged relationships. I have hurt people I really love. I have gone nuclear.

     But...
     I crumbled.
     I'm 36 years old. I've been battling depression and anxiety since I have a memory in my mind. I grew up encouraged to not have feelings, or if you do, box that shit up. I grew up feeling like a burden, unloved, unsafe... Almost all of my memories are traumatic ones.

     And while all these things have come to a culmination and defined me as a human person, I have to let parts of me go, change, so I can move on from this roller coaster.

     I have not enjoyed the journey of shedding it from my soul. It's been mother effing hard. I have been to parts of darkness that I have never been to before. Made plans and had ideas that I never had before. I crumbled under the weight of it all. None of my tools were working anymore. My box was too full. I lost it.
      And then after that, I sought help, only to face the reality that if I am to ever really truly "get better", to really truly change things, I have to reprogram the way I perceive reality. I have to change my filters. I have to silence my inner demons. And it has not been easy.

     I can say though, now at this moment in time, I have successfully been guided by an amazing professional through one journey to slay a demon of my past. One that surprisingly had more control over me than I realized. And since I have slayed that demon, I have found a new capacity to open my heart to the people around me. The people who sit in the trenches with me while I lose my shit, and hold me until I'm me again. I have found an emotional freedom that I have not really ever felt before. It's new, and almost scary. But not in a bad way. Change requires getting used to. And this change was required for survival.

     And today I dove into trauma number two. My most perplexing one. But I am ever so grateful for people as talented and skilled as my therapist. She has delicately guided me through my darkness and I'm actually finding light. For the first time in a long long time....

I feel
joy.

Small but Mighty

I'm about to disclose something pretty profound. It is my hope that my story brings someone comfort. And perhaps too, in a small selfish way, I also have something created eternally reminding me that I can live.

Small but mighty. This little pill. Avoided for years because of fear. What would it mean? I'm weak? I'm broken? What would people think of me?

I'm going to be honest with you, and it's not easy. I have had suicidal ideation. I have battled anxiety and depression at intensifying degrees since I have a memory to recall. When I was 16 years old I sat, slumped in my small attic bedroom. There on my bed, surrounded by magazine cutouts and photo printed selfies, I held a full bottle of Tylenol PM in my hands. I had every intention of ingesting the whole bottle. But I was afraid. So, I called for help and made a different choice.

Fast forward to another time. My struggles haven't changed but my ability to cope and control it has. I lost myself. I lost my fear.

That, in and of itself was what really scared me. But I held on. My child needed me, loved me, no matter how awful I thought I was. He loved me. Without condition. And I could not break his heart like that. I had to figure out how to want to be alive. To feel something other than complete unexplainable despair. I had to. For him.

So, I tried something new. It was a journey and not always pleasant but, I found something that helps my brain function better emotionally.

Trauma reconstructs the brain. There is research to support that. This little pill has changed my life. It's helped give me the ability to crawl out of the darkness. It has given me my hope back. This little pill keeps me from wanting to die.

Let me tell you this. If you are conflicted about trying medication to help you find your way out of the darkness, just try it. What have you got to lose? I avoided it for so long. I worried what people might think. I worried that it meant I was weak. But if a person breaks their leg they need a cast to help support it while it heals. That is the same here.

My little soldier helps me fight. And I am so glad I gave it a chance.

This My Why

One of my biggest obstacles to finding myself and loving myself has been the fact that for much of my life I've done it

for the approval of others. Somehow I came to believe that other people's opinions of me were what validated my efforts and my existence. And failure after failure I just didn't get it.

I really can't directly pinpoint when my bulb finally lit up, but I think it was around the time that I became a mom.

I think when someone becomes a mom for the first time, they either fall in love with their incredible body and all it has done

or they hate it and begin to plan how they're going to lose that baby weight. For me personally, it was love.

When I was pregnant, my favorite thing about being pregnant was to actually be able to walk around not constantly trying to hold in my gut. I could just let it go and it was ok for me to look fat because I was pregnant. It was such a relief! All along the entire pregnancy, I was just amazed at what my body is capable of. And this tiny creature who depended on me for survival loved me without condition. My husband equally made me feel like I was amazing and beautiful no matter what. And although he'd still love me at 198lbs, I personally didn't want to be that size.

Being so heavy was a strain on my physical and mental wellbeing. Yoga was my first taste of my new lifestyle. Then I began running and lifting. All of these things, in combination with a multitude of other coping mechanisms, are what saves me from the dark deep.

It took me 4 years to "lose the baby weight" physically. But the weight of self-hatred was a lifelong battle. I love finally feeling good about myself. It's like a huge weight has been lifted from my soul. I can just be free to be myself and look however I want that makes me feel beautiful to ME.

I work out often, eat sort of healthy, and do things for me because I feel like I deserve it. I deserve to feel strong. I deserve to feel awesome about myself. I deserve happiness. And happiness doesn't come easily. I really have to work at it sometimes.

So, if you ever wonder if that hot chick at the gym is working out because she wants your approval or attention, well chances are she isn't. She doesn't care what you think of her because she's focused on that next push. She's doing it for herself. Not for you.

This is the Face of Depression

Recently, I read an article (probably on scary mommy...) about a post that a girl made regarding selfies of her before she tried to commit suicide. I thought to myself, "Oh sure,  can relate to that."

But then I recently posted a "happy birthday" post for my mom on FB, and I posted this photo along with it:

Don't I look so happy?! Well, looks are most certainly deceiving here. I had to muster up this smile with all my might. I was working diligently to cover up the darkness that consumed me. I didn't want anyone to know what I was struggling with. But on this day, I hit my lowest low (well low to me). I yelled at my nephew because he put too much water in my potted plant. I lost it. I really completely and utterly lost it. And the moment it happened I knew what I had done was so wrong. I felt awful. Even worse because my pain had caused pain for someone else I love dearly.

But at the same time, this was the moment when it showed. So, my brother and sister-in-law reached out to me. And for once I was grateful. I've always been the "I have to take care of it myself" kind of person. I help others, but others don't help me. I'm a helper, not a helpee! And the utterly petrifying fear that my loved ones would reject me because of my battle with depression was completely wrong. They didn't even make it a thing. They forgave me for what I had done and were there for me when I needed it the most. In fact, I think it brought us even closer together.

Depression has a face, but it's not always the face you expect. You can't just look at a person and see their inner pain. You can't see their thoughts of ending it all. You can't feel the pain they feel every single day. It's super messed up, I know. Depression is weird. And to those who have never been in the depths of the deep dark, well, I'm afraid you just cannot truly understand it. You can try, but you really just can't. You can be empathetic, supportive, unconditionally loving, but you won't ever really be able to feel the utter helplessness and crumbling soul that is depression. It can make the most beautiful and wonderful people decide to end their own lives because it's just too much.

Depression has a face. It could be anyone's face. And not one of them are lesser beings because of it. It hurts in so many ways it's almost unfathomable.

So, just be there. Be loving. Don't judge. Just hold them. Listen. We need others. In the dark deep solitude we will wither and fade without someone to help pull us out. And for those who are struggling...get help! The people who surround you in love will be there.

My Top 5 Netflix "Happy Heart Show" Recommendations

As someone who tends to absorb the emotions I expose myself to like a sponge I have to be mindful of what shows I watch. I watched 13 Reasons Why and it triggered my depression pretty severely. To such an extent that I considered changing my medication because I was worried that it wasn't working anymore. I also started watching Shameless, and while it is an excellent show, it was far too reminiscent of experiences I had growing up with an alcoholic father. That time I caught myself and noticed the change in mood after exposing myself to the show too much. I can recognize the feeling now as I tend to flare up a bit when I watch too much Orange is the New Black.

It has become clear to me now that I am much more sensitive to the shows I watch than I realized. Now that I know it's a trigger I have aimed to find shows that are good and have a more positive angle. These are my top 5 Netflix recommendations for what I will refer to as "Happy Heart Shows".

#1 Life In Pieces This series chronicles the lives of the 3 generations of the Short family as they go about their daily lives. Think Parenthood, but without all the ugly crying. Excellent, clever humor, and I LOL a lot.






#2 Schitt's Creek This show follows a wealthy family whose money was taken by their business manager who failed to pay their taxes. No spoilers, but this one is hilarious and heartwarming at the same time. So many classic comedian actors/actresses in the cast too. Love it!

#3 Parks & Recreation I can never really get enough of this show. This one and Scrubs are my two infinite rewatchables. Probably The Office falls in there too. But I just love the energy of this show. Plus, Chris Pratt...am  I right?! Yum.






#4 Happyish This show is slightly a bit of dark humor, but utterly relatable. Dark humor in the sense that there are mental health issues that everyone deals with. More normalizing I guess I would say and so freaking funny.

#5 Grace and Frankie Lily Tomlin has always been a favorite of mine. She's amazing. Jane Fonda is still looking great. Get these two together and throw in Martin Sheen and you've got yourself a funny take on an unexpected turn in the later years of life.


Happy Netflix Bingeing!