I Only Need Several Plastic Surgeries and I'll Be Perfect!

Forgive me reader... blah blah blah... It has been five years since my last confession blog post...

I started this blog for accountability related to my weight loss goals (which I will spoil now, have not been met). I attempted to evolve to a diary format about events and experiences in my life beyond how chubby my face looked in a photo, but then a bunch of life happened... a lot of good things, a lot of un-good things... 

Then I got an email from Google that my photos were in danger of being deleted and I remembered I have a blog... I read a bunch of my old entries and... I'm honestly considering reading some of them on TikTok...

I'm especially moved by younger me's thoughts about weight and body image. I see she was fueling her goals with a lot of outside influence and expectation and using the words she believed the world wanted her to say. She thought "I need them to know that I know I'm unhealthy and that I know how to be healthy so they will give me a break" but the thing is, very few people (I wish I could say none) actually said anything negative about how she looked, what she ate, how active/inactive her lifestyle was...

It's the one red sock that stains the rest pink, even if it doesn't stain it stands out like crazy, and that one negative comment drowned all of the good things she heard, thought, believed about herself.

My focus has changed and, though my weight has gone up over the last five years. I don't acknowledge perceived judgement out loud anymore ('I know I need to lose weight", "I've been eating so healthy so it's okay if I enjoy this meal with you", "I really need to get back in the gym") because I don't care as much if people think those things so I don't need them to know, I know, they know that I'm chubby...

However, I'm not cured... I'm not body positive and am not embracing myself for all I am or appreciating my body for what it can do... I'm still not happy with my physical fitness, and I'm still very lucky that I have no other major health issues... and I still want to change all of that... and I still think I know how, but just choose to not... because... well...

Life is worth living, planning to live "someday" is not living. I absolutely LOVE to plan things, but I realized recently that I don't often do the thing I planned for over the course of months or years OR I don't enjoy the thing if/when I actually do it. I'm very bad at being in the moment so I've actually missed out on almost every opportunity to experience the good things. 

I don't know... this is all rambling...

Ramble on,

Mel

My Brother's Shadow

It takes a long time to grow up, and we never stop until our hearts do.

We spend all of that time finding out what kind of person we are.

We develop new habits, friendships, skills, hobbies, passions; and lose old habits, friendships, skills, hobbies, passions.

All that time we spend growing, in one way or another, but some things stay exactly the same inside.

There is a part of me that is always 5 and terrified on the first day of Kindergarten.
13 and worried someone will make fun of my new braces or acne.
18 and unsure about what adulthood means and what to be for the rest of my life.
25 and realizing birthdays aren't fun anymore and what am I doing with my life?
30 and sad, but not sure if it's because TV and movies said people get sad about turning 30...

A time when all of those ages converge seems to be happening to me now.

Recently I was looking into, um... how to be vague but still make sense? ... Let's call it "joining a group".

This process caused a lot of memories to come back to me about one of the last "groups" I had joined...

When I was 20, (I think?), I stopped attending gatherings of a group (which I will not name as it is not the point of the story).
I felt I was an active member of this group and its various activities as well as related side groups, etc. The reason I stopped going is not exactly clear, but is partially related to my brother Mark having decided to stop a few weeks before.
It was a tough decision to make. I was really lonely for a long time, and unsure if it was the right choice, but...
Worse than not knowing if I did the right thing or if I was misguided, was the sting I felt in my heart when no one reached out to me. Not to see if I was okay or if something had happened.
Not a word really... Unless my memory is blurred on this time period, I don't think anyone even sent a postcard for upcoming events... I felt like I was instantly wiped from the mailing list.

I have experienced a huge mixed bag about that from then until now.
I go from feeling like, "I should have been a better friend, this was all my fault", "who am I to think I should test these people in such a way?," to feeling like I was a part of their lives, part of the "meetings", "I had to have meant something to SOMEone"...
Maybe everyone was relieved?
Maybe everyone hated me all along?

Worse, maybe no one noticed?

So, when I saw you...
and you recognized me!
and you walked up to me with a huge smile and opened your mouth to say something...
I thought for a flash, "Someone DID notice, someone DOES miss me"...
!!!
and instead you say, "How's Mark doing?"
... I wonder if you even remember my name...
and while I say "He's good", and ask how you are
and you say "good", and "see you around"... and you walk away
...
That's when I turn 30, 25, 18, 13, and 5 all at once and melt into a puddle that drips through the cracks in the linoleum until I evaporate and there is nothing left at all...

But this is not the only case like this.
When it's three times and three very different "groups", it's not a coincidence that people don't care that someone is gone, it's a trend...
and I'm still not sure if I have been bad at choosing the right group for me, if people just really suck at outreach, or if I am exactly as insignificant as I feel when no one says, "How are you?"... ...

I'm not sure what the purpose of this post really was, I felt I needed to get that out and let someone learn something from it, or show me what I missed... anyway...

Ramble On,
Mel

It's just a cry for attention...

Thinking... I wonder what it's like to not think so much, about so much, all of the time...

Today's topic is suicide! Hooray!!!

I live with suicidal ideations, or thoughts of suicide... it's a part of me, and I fear it, but I have tools to manage it...

There are a lot of people who deal with thoughts of suicide on a regular basis, which I didn't know for a long time, because of the stigma...

Here's a reaction that I find to be a very common, yet inappropriate, response to a friend or relative expressing they have suicidal thoughts:

"Oh poor you, 'My life is so hard', everyone's life is hard... It's just a cry for attention..."
Uh DUH! Of course it's a cry for attention, literally call me, send a text, reach out...

That's what someone needs when they feel suicidal.
We feel terrified that no one will be there to stop our spiral...
Like we must stay isolated from the outside world because we would be a burden...
Alone in our overwhelming emotions...
There is no one who knows what is going on in our heads...
So "I must be beyond repair, and everyone would be better off without me".

It is also a misunderstanding of the condition to think that a suicidal person is only one who has attempted suicide, so someone who has not tried to kill themselves must not really be suicidal...
There is no logic in this at all.
I've never baked a loaf of bread, but that does not mean that I haven't thought about baking bread... What kind of bread I'd want to try, looked up recipes online, even purchased the ingredients and set a day to give it a go...

It is true that most people don't think "I should kill myself" when something bad happens like the loss of a loved one, being fired from a job, or getting dumped...

It is even more true that most people don't react to trivial things like getting a flat tire, cutting themselves shaving, or stubbing a toe with a quick thought that they should swallow every pill in their house.

But I know, that out of all of the billions of people in this world, it's not just me and that helps a little, it takes some of the pressure off...

It means I'm not alone, in a room, in the dark...
Screaming for someone who can understand...
To hold my hand...
Tell me it will pass and remind me...
Depression lies...

Ramble On...
Melissa

Experiment Version: whoevenknowsanymore?

There's a contradiction I struggle with almost daily that comes from two "inspirational quotes" that float around the internet:

• When you're in a rut, think about what has worked for you in the past and then do that.

• The definition of  insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results

So, yeah - a vegetarian diet worked for me in the past, but that stopped after one bite of biscuits & gravy on Christmas morning 2009. Likewise, eating 100% Whole30 approved Paleo worked really well, until the 30 days ended, well... I waited until day 35. (I was so afraid to stop the Whole30 because I knew what would happen, but I stopped anyway).

...so did what I had done in the past really work for me?
...because I stopped doing both and here I am... 5'2", about to turn 38, and tipping the scale at 270+

Is doing either extreme again, and expecting it to work this time, just crazy?

All that I can say I know with 100% certainty is that nothing, that's literally doing nothing, is not working. Also, the constant in these "experiments" is me, and my depression (which is strengthened by poor health and weight gain), and my very well honed skill of negative self talk, and suicidal ideations... (I'll, maybe, add some perspective on that last bit in another post.)

Therefore, I need a new/old plan; a new way to implement and carry out a proven technique while addressing the lessons learned from last time, and the time before, and the time before that one, and the time that happened at an earlier point in time from that other time, etc...

And, I need to take actual, small steps to get a permanent change going, because there is one thing that stuck. I always make a plan outlining, in detail, what I am going to make and eat for lunch and dinner. Do I always follow the plan? NO! but, I can't not make a plan now... so there's my baseline, a new habit solidified; my best laid plans are mandatory routine.
So, what's my next step? Exercise everyday? Eat raw vegan nuts and berries that volunteered to be food? Deadlift my own weight?  

OR... here's a bonkers idea... How about I maintain my 270 for one month? 

I could track every bite I take and every activity I do so I know what it is that I am doing (or not doing) that has my body in the shape it is in now. I have never taken this step and I think it's possible that my lack of a serious look at how I got where I am could be the missing piece I've been searching for before declaring how I will get to any ill conceived "goal".

So, for 30 days, I'll set my LoseIt! app to "maintain my current weight" and track everything. 

After that, I'll take a look at what habits can go and what habits can begin so I can give my "Scheduling" badge a buddy on my "Health Scouts" sash... god I'm such a dork...

Ramble On,
Mel

Whenever You're Ready

It's always been a battle between what I know and what I'll admit; to others or to myself. So I begin, over and over, hoping this leap will be the leap home. 

My main demon is this overwhelming impulse to rebel against any outside influencers. It's as if taking someone else's advice takes away from my victory. Yes, a lot of the suggestions I hear are useless, but they are all well intentioned. It is a stumbling block of my own making and has been instrumental in my development to 265 lbs. Despite this awareness, and the reality of numbers I have never seen on the scale, nothing has broken the stumbling block in my mind... Until a few days ago...

I had reached maximum capacity at the onset of 2017 and made a resolution. My husband and I agreed to walking twice a week and eating "healthier". 

This lasted about three weeks and then I had a particularly and persistently painful "lady time" episode one walking day. Then my husband got stuck by the next walking day, then I got sick... By this time it was easy to just not go anymore.

Eating "healthier" lasted only a few days before the "I'm not in the mood for that" mentality kicked in. 

Cut to a few days before Fat Tuesday. The office manager needed petty cash to purchase Paczki for the upcoming, gluttony celebrating, holiday. Something clicked on in my brain. It was time... I was ready... The reason for why this is the right time remains unclear, I only know that it's here. 

A cookbook was cracked open and a schedule put in place. I had been looking at weeks and months for years and that has gotten me nowhere. I read somewhere that taking an approach of focusing on days and years can be a more useful way of seeing things.

So I made a plan... A 70 Week commitment.

I will move my body more and more with each segment of my plan. Eat good, whole, delicious food and won't eat bad, processed, or grain laden food.

And, most importantly, rather than waiting to be motivated or inspired to get it together or get my butt in gear, I choose, every day, to begin now.

Now is as good a time as any...

Ramble on...

Mel

Go Team Go!

There is an "I" in team for the following sports metaphor:

I am the whole team. I'm the owner, coach, captain, players, cheerleaders, fans and stadium all in one. 

Important to note though; I am also the rival team. 

There is no one else in this game but me... 

The only thing trying to stop me from scoring... is me.

The only one who suffers when I fumble... is me.

The only winner when everything goes well and I tackle my inner rival and get past that line with the ball in my hands... is me.

No one can take that victory from me and no one is standing in the way.

So... I have to be done with sitting on the sidelines of my life and watching myself fall all over the field and make a mess of this game. I've spent too many seasons kicking myself for failing and treating my pain with foods that couse more pain. 

I'm making my last playbook, and I'm going to win... Go Team!

Ramble On...

Mel

Dream One

Dreamt I was dead or dying in a strange place like a retirement home, but everyone was of varying ages and it didn't seem like a hospice or cancer ward.

It was separated from my life and everyone I knew. Kurt Russell was there. He had his shirt off and I hugged him (platonically) and his back felt like a hairless cat to the touch, kind of velvety and smooshy and odd...

Whenever anyone was told they were leaving, there was a goodbye ritual that involved giving away all of your stuff. Everyone was in shock when they were told it was their turn even though we knew why we were there and what was next... When I got the news it was my time I cried a lot, showed everyone where I kept all my good stuff and went into the lobby to wait for the bus...

At some point while waiting I realized I wasn't dying; I was about to be born. I saw a vision of my parents and my life and my mom telling me they had money saved so I could go away to college if I wanted...

Then I was back to reality and now and was sad because I can't go off to live in the dorms and begin my adult life. I do still regret not going away to college.

I've been having these crisis type dreams for a few nights now and I wake up feeling depressed about whatever theme was most prominent. Being fired, dumped, teased, ignored, dying, my sensuality, my body image issues, getting pregnant/losing the baby... I'm not sure what it all means, but I'd love to have a night of peaceful sleep where my dreams are not so disturbing that I wake up feeling like I never slept at all...