hope

The truth will set you free

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom.” ~Thomas Jefferson

I began writing in this blog as a way to get all the random thoughts out of my head, but also as a way to tell my story.  But as I look back, I realize I haven’t necessarily been upfront and honest.  I haven’t necessarily given all the facts and explained the whole situation. Mostly, this is due to fear. And judgement from people.  And to be perfectly frank, I’m tired of hiding behind fear.

I guess you could say it all began with a trip to Oregon.  At first I was excited.  A trip to the West Coast with a bunch of friends from work and a few days off from the kids to go along with it.  What’s not to love?

Then I remembered that I would have to take an airplane.  Then I remembered I would have to fit into an airplane seat and buckle my seat belt.  Then I remembered every single article I have ever come across about airlines who kick people off the plane for being too fat.  Then I remembered that maybe I would miss my kids and I shouldn’t go after all.

I belonged to a gym, joined in some arbitrary moment of “I can do this!” but at that point my workouts consisted of the 5 minutes I could stand on the elliptical or treadmill and then 30 minutes on the sit down bike.  Throw in a couple of easy strength exercises on the machines, and I thought I was actually accomplishing something.  The fear of getting on the plane and being embarrassed in front of people I had to work with motivated me to do something I had never done before…buy a scale.

After searching for what seemed like hours at a K-mart next to the gym, I finally found one.  I raced home, carried it up to the bathroom, and after ripping off every ounce of clothing and all hair accessories that could add weigh, I gingerly stepped on the scale.

331.

No, that is not a typo.  That was the actual number.  And while I didn’t want it to be true, I knew it was.  I sat down on the bathroom floor and cried for about 10 minutes.  How had it gotten this bad?  How had I let myself get this far gone?  Once I got control of myself, I got up, got dressed, and came up with a plan.  That summer I worked my butt off and in two months (right before my flight) I had lost 20 pounds.  I know that’s not a lot, but to me it was everything.  It represented that I could actually do this.

Long story short, they didn’t kick me off the plane, though I did need a seat belt extender.  But the heart wrenching fear I felt as I approached that first plane was probably the worst in my life. I didn’t sleep for nearly a week.  I vowed that I would continue working out when I got home and would get myself to a healthy place.

And I did.  For awhile. Until once again, life got in the way.  That fall I worked out here and there, but nothing significant.  Between two kids under 3, teaching kindergarten, and trying to be a good wife and mother, I never seemed to find time for the gym.  Finally in January, after realizing I had gained back 12 pounds (bringing me back up to 321) a friend and I decided to sign up for the Y-fit challenge (the YMCA’s version of the biggest loser).  And through that I fell in love with working out.  I lost about 35 pounds, completed my first 5-K and began to gain back some of the confidence I so desperately needed.

And then, as most stories go, my world turned upside down.  During the summer (on my last day of school) my dad died.  We had a rather tumultuous relationship (see posts from then) and I didn’t think it would really affect me.  But it did.  In ways that I will never quite understand.  And the gym took a back burner yet again.  Luckily, I only gained about 5 pounds, but by the time school started again, I was a jumbled wreck.  I didn’t know what was up or down or right or wrong.  All I knew was that I needed something to change.  I needed to be saved.

So I went for a run.  And really, that is the true beginning of my story.  Because on that day I was reborn.  I learned that I can decide how my life is going to go.  I am in charge of myself, my decisions, and my happiness.  I can decide to begin to heal, and grow, and change for the better.  And I did. Or, at the very least I’m in the process.

Over the months I ran occasionally, went to the gym, got injured, and then began again and again.  In January, on the eve of my 33 birthday, I hit my 50 pound mark (60 if you count from my pre-plane freak out weight).  And I’m still going.

I was looking back on old pictures today.  Pictures from pre-kids, pictures from post-kids, pictures from last year, last week, last month and I can’t believe the difference.  It’s not even just the weight, but the confidence, the happiness, the fact that there are more pictures now than there were before.  These are all indicators that maybe this time is the right time.  Maybe I’m finally exactly where I need to be.

And at 269 pounds I am currently running 15 miles a week and training for my first half marathon in the fall.  While I still have so far to go, I’ve never felt better.  I’m ready to begin this new chapter in my life.

I had to start and stop, begin and end, give up and keep going, numerous times to get to this point.

But if I can do it, so can anyone.  If I can do it, so can you.

2009-2013

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The last 10 months…

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Maybe I can

/ Cassie / 1 Comment

“If it is important to you, you will find a way.  If not, you will find an excuse.”

I haven’t written in a while because things around here have been crazy busy.  With snow days, Max’s new round of IEP meetings, my last formal observation of the year, and professional development classes I feel like I can barely get my head above water.  With all that said, things haven’t been all bad and stressful.  I’ve still been running, trying (my hardest) to eat healthy, and curb those tendencies I have to completely freak out and run away from the world.

Two weeks ago a couple of amazing things happened, both big and small.  Beginning with the big: I completely ran my first 5k!  My last race was in November, so I guess you could consider this a “come back” race.  My time was amazingly slow, but that didn’t matter.  I didn’t come in last, and I ran the whole thing.  And no matter how much my legs hurt (in the quest for beer and a bathroom I forgot to stretch), I woke up Tuesday morning and finished three miles.  It’s nice knowing that this is becoming a “thing” for me now, a habit that I am not willing to break, something I need to do.  My times are still slow and they may never get better, but I don’t care.  That’s not what this is about anymore.

Last week-end I took the little for a bike ride and jogged behind them.  We went for about a mile before we came to the park.  It was then that I realized I had jogged for a mile behind my kids and was not out of breath at all.  True, we we’re going that fast, but the idea that running a mile was not something that could brake me anymore was truly amazing.  A year ago just walking to the park would have left me tired and winded, and now I feel like I have so much more energy, which is a great thing considering I have two small boys.

For the past two weeks I have stuck with my running plan and am up to 5 miles on my  “long runs”.  I have to stop some times, but who cares?  I’m doing something I never thought I could do.  And, triumph of triumphs? I’ve officially run 100 miles since the beginning of 2014.  100 miles in 3 months.  It took me five months to walk/run this amount previously.

It’s amazing what we can accomplish when we don’t give up on ourselves…even when other’s may have given up on us.

The Long Way Home

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“You live but once, you might as well be amusing.” ~Coco Chanel

Do you ever get that feeling that you know you want to write but you have no idea what you are going to say?  That’s how I feel at this moment.  I feel like I’ve been writing this post in my head all week, but when I sit to write, nothing is actually coming out.

My workout schedule is going well and I have managed to follow it for two weeks.  Now that I’m running more and going to the gym less I know I need to work more on my stretching and strength training.  I neglected it this week, and after my run today I can definitely feel it.

I started talking up the fact that I signed up for the Baltimore Half Marathon to some friends at work and a lot of people seem really interested.  A few have even signed up already.  It really shows me how much I have grown during my running and since the summer.

6 months ago, if someone had said something about going running with me or running a race with me I would have laughed and tried to figure out some way to get out of it.  I would have been too embarrassed about my size, my ability, and my speed to even contemplate running near someone I know.  Even today when I decided to run this afternoon instead of tomorrow (too busy, more snow) I ran in broad daylight in my tight running pants singing along (rather softly) to my music.  I was super slow with all the snow and ice, I wore an old ratty t-shirt, and sweat was dripping down my face and I just didn’t care.

And the fact is, why should I?  I’m doing this for me, not for anyone else.  Sure, the more the merrier.  I love when I hear that I have motivated someone to run or workout, and I am still desperately searching for a (non-speedy) running buddy, but that’s not why I am doing what I do.  I have no problem being friend or a motivator or a cheerleader for anyone who needs it.  I don’t know what I would have done without mine.  But the days are gone where I always need someone to hold my hand and go with me as I jumped into the unknown abyss.  I no longer feel the need for the outside reassurance that I so constantly craved.

I stepped on the scale today for the first time since I hit my 50 pound mark.  And guess what.  I’m still at the 50 pound mark.  This would have bothered me before, but not now.  I know my clothes are getting looser, even the next size down for some of my items is too big.  The number on the scale doesn’t define me like it once did.  While it took me a long time to figure it out, that’s not what this running journey is about anyway.

Every day I remember why I started running in the first place.  August, and the summer in general, had been tough and one day I had had enough.  I was depressed, and moody, and couldn’t find joy in even the smallest things.  I didn’t want to feel like that anymore.  So I went for a run.  Or really, not even a run, as I couldn’t even run a quarter of a mile without stopping for a break.  And while I didn’t get serious about it until January, it quite literally saved my life, and continues to do so every time I venture out.  The first mile is always the hardest, but once I hit it, I feel like there is no stopping me.

I know I’m still super slow.  I know I don’t look like all the other runners out there.  And frankly, I just don’t care.  Months ago I would have.  Months ago I wouldn’t have even thought to run when other runners, “real runners” might be out there.  I didn’t want to embarrass myself.  But with the smiles and waves I got today as I trudged along through the snow and slush, I know no one is judging me except for me.

And right now, I’m feeling pretty fabulous.

100 Mile Challenge Miles Completed: 24

Weeks to the Baltimore Half Marathon: 35

Current Weekly Miles: 9

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In vino veritas…unless you’re giving it up

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

If you read my last post, you know I did something completely insane.  I signed up for a half marathon.  And I don’t just mean “signed up”.  I mean paid a rather large entrance fee to run with other people who are “real runners” and huff and puff for 13.1 miles…after which  I will promptly die.  I know I am NOWHERE close to being ready for it yet, but the half marathon isn’t until October, so I know I have time to get there.

After making the commitment, I decided that I should actually get serious about it.  Since I’ve only been running off and on for a few months, a couple times a week at most I still don’t know exactly what I’m doing.  I don’t know a lot about “training” or pacing or any of that other runner lingo, so I did what anyone else in my position would do…took to the computer.  So, after much internet (Pinterest) research I created a plan that includes running and cross training and takes me to June.  This is the first week in my training plan and I’m proud to say as long as I complete my short run tomorrow, I will have followed it every day.  It’s crazy to see that my first week I’m only running 8 miles, but by June, I’m up to about 25 per week.

With getting serious about the training plan, I feel like I also need to get serious about other things, such as food, getting enough sleep, and de-stressing.  And because of that, I think it’s time to say good-bye to the wine.  Now, you wouldn’t know if from my facebook account, but I actually don’t drink that much.  But, it’s probably more than I should, I know it’s taking the place of the water I should be drinking on certain nights.  Now, I’m not saying I’m completely giving it up.  There is nothing stopping me from having a glass out with friends after work, or toasting at a wedding, but I think it’s just time to take a break from it, especially at home, and see where this leads me.

Honestly, if I’m going to do this running thing, I want to really do it and I want to do it right.  I love it and it has changed me in more ways than most people know.

I can already see so many changes since picking running back up last month.  I can go for miles (yes plural) without having to stop.  I’m not as out of breath.  I’m not as sore afterwards.  2 miles no longer seems like an eternity (though that first mile is always the hardest), in fact, to me it feels super short.  Even tonight when I attempted to take the kids out with me on a 2 mile run, they got tired before I did.  I used to simply get tired watching them play.  And that was really the most amazing thing.

I’ve also seen changes in my mood.  I’m happier, less stressed, and have a more positive outlook.  Sure, I still vent and get upset, but not to the degree I used to.

So, a toast to how much I’ve put behind me and all the things I have to look forward to in the future.  A toast to say goodbye to a stress reliever I don’t need as much any more.

A final toast with a fancy bottle for a most important occasion.

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What Goes Up…

/ Cassie / 2 Comments

“We may encounter defeats, but we must not be defeated.” ~Maya Angelou

I guess I should start with the good.

I finally hit my 100 Mile Challenge miles.  On Martin Luther King Day.  I can’t believe I finally did it.  So what do I do to celebrate?  Made another challenge.  Now instead of running and walking 100 miles, I plan on running 100 miles by the end of April.  If I stick with the new training plan I’ve come up with, and it stops freaking snowing, it shouldn’t be a problem.

Also, I finally it my 5o pound mark.  I have officially lost 50 pounds as of January 25 (the eve of my 33rd birthday).  I can’t believe it.  It has done nothing but motivate me to lose another 50.

Plus, I ordered new running clothes from Old Navy in my normal sizes.  Which I now have to return because they are too damn big.

And yet…

I have to admit, it doesn’t take a lot to make me feel defeated.  More likely than not, it’s because I’m not used to failing.  I usually don’t try things that I know I might fail and because I have such a deep seated fear of failure, I usually accomplish everything I set out to, no matter the cost.  But on Wednesday, I went out for my run.  It was supposed to be 2 miles, but after a mile I decided to call it quits.  It was cold (as in literally 3 degrees), I was tired, I did over 3 miles on the elliptical at the gym the night before, and really, the list could go on and on.  I probably could have kept going for that two miles, but I didn’t want to, so I didn’t. And for the rest of the evening, I was in a funk, mad at myself that I didn’t finish what I was supposed to.

And you know what?  I haven’t been running since the night I quit early.  This is what I always do.  I do what I want to do, and don’t do things I don’t want to do.  Plain and simple.  It’s pretty selfish, if you think about it.  I have trouble pushing myself past the comfortable.  I have trouble pushing myself, period.  I don’t like pain, I don’t like to feel uncomfortable so I do everything in my power to avoid it, whether that be in my workouts, at my job, or in my personal life.  And because I don’t like to be uncomfortable and because I don’t like to fail, I don’t take risks. And I need to start.

So what does a girl who needs motivation and needs to take a big risk in order to push herself do?  She signs up for a half-marathon.

Oh yes, you read that right.  I signed up for the Baltimore Half-Marathon.  13.1 miles.  At one time. In front of other people.  With real runners who don’t “trot”.  I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to run the whole thing.  I can’t even guarantee that I’ll finish.

And I’m sure people will laugh when I tell them. But I like a good challenge.  And I’ve come this far.

Plus, you should see how motivated I am when people say I can’t do something…

So here’s a toast to new life choices, to challenges, to proving others wrong, and to simply proving to myself that I can do this.

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Why walk when you can fly

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Because that’s the thing, the day before your life changes forever, it’s just like any other day.”

Finally, finally, finally.

Saturdays are a dreaded day.  The day I get on the scale.  I was worried about it, to be honest.  I was sick this week and didn’t really give it all my all.  So, I screwed my eyes up tight, got on a peaked at the number.  And it was lower.  Not by a lot, but by 1.4 pounds.  Which puts me at the lowest weight I’ve been since before Max was born.  Which puts me at 2.4 measly pounds until I hit 50 pounds lost.

And it’s those 1.4 pounds that make me realize that I can do this.  Since May my weight has been pretty consistent, gaining 1 or 2, losing 1 or 2, but never really going anywhere.  Not that I could blame it.  I wasn’t really doing anything to help it along.  I’d work out here and there, eat healthy here and there, run here and there, but never enough to amount to anything, and never enough for it to stick.

After a rocky 6 months, I’m finally ready to get back on track…and I am getting back on track. I feel like within the past three weeks, something has really clicked.  I’ve been able to stay on the healthy eating train.  I’ve stopped drinking except for one week-end day or special occasions, and really, haven’t had the desire as much as before.  I’ve been able stick to my workout plan for the most part and I’ve also been able to not get (too) upset the few times I have had to deviate from the plan for reasons beyond my control.

Overall the running is going well.  I’m still slow, but it doesn’t bother me as much anymore.  The speed will come.  One of my January goals was to be up to running 3 miles by the end of January.  Last Sunday I actually ran 4 (I still can’t believe it) so I’ve definitely met that goal!  I had never run more than 2.5 before that and to say that I felt accomplished was a major understatement.  I’m actually going to start incorporating some speed work on Saturdays with a friend (Hi Sara!).  We found the most AMAZING running trail today and can’t wait to try it out again next week.

My other January goals are going well too.  I’m halfway through two new books, have been soda free for 19 days, and have done quite a few things that I would normally have been scared to do.  I’m excited to set some February goals soon.  I’m hoping to get back on my one race a month kick, and maybe even rev it up to something past a 5K eventually.

The best part of all this?  For the first time in a long time, I’m not waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Usually, when things are going well, I tend to get scared and worried, believing that it’s only a matter of time before things start to turn sour again.  I’m gaining confidence, learning to tune out the small stuff, and battling (and moving on from) past demons that were keeping me stagnant.

And let me tell you…it’s an absolutely amazing, wonderful feeling.  I just can’t get enough.

I feel like I’m ready to battle whatever comes my way, whether it be big, or small, or nothing at all.

Upcoming Races/Runs

  • March: Shamrock 5K
  • April: Baltimore Color Run with Max (on his 5th birthday!!!)
  • May: Color Run in Queens with the Maryland and Childhood BFFs!
  • June: Charles Village 5K? Baltimore Women’s Classic 5K?
  • July: Electric Run
  • August: Trail Run at Boordy Vinyards?
  • September: Color Me Rad

And of course…the 100 mile challenge

Miles accomplished in the 100 Mile Challenge: 97.95

Miles to go in the 100 Mile Challenge: 2.05

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Challenges: The Obligatory Resolutions Post

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“It’s lack of faith that makes people afraid of meeting challenges, and I believe in myself.” ~Muhammad Ali

So, I guess this could be considered my obligatory New Years Resolution post.  I could bore you with my endless downpour of yearly recycled resolutions (drink less, eat more vegetables, be a nicer wife, be a better mother, etc.) but I won’t.  These are the same hundred or so plans that I make every year and every year I feel like a failure when I still occasionally suck at being a mom, when I still occasionally yell at my husband for no apparent reason, when I still occasionally have one too many glasses of wine, and when I still occasionally choose party mix over carrots.

And somehow, when I keep making the same resolutions year after year, I wonder why nothing changes; why I’m still depressed more than I’m happy, why I’m still not at the weight or fitness level that I want to be, why my home life is not as wonderful as it could be.  Part of this, of course, is that I never put forth enough effort.  For about two weeks I do everything in my power to change what I think needs to be changed, and then when things do change, I stop putting forth any effort and slack off…and things tend to go back to sucking. Shocking, I know.

Which is why, this year, I’m making monthly resolutions as opposed to yearly ones.  I’m hoping that this way I can keep things fresh, change things up when I need to, evaluate what’s working and what’s not, tweak and add and subtract when needed.  Also, I’ll be able to see a light at the end of the tunnel.  I tend to loose focus or get discouraged or simply become complacent when I have too long to complete something.  And, of course, there is the procrastination aspect as well.  Why do today what you can do tomorrow instead?

A resolution, simply put, is the firm idea to do or not do something.  I guess, these ideas that I have for the month of January aren’t really resolutions so much as they are challenges and goals…things I am hoping to accomplish, though in the strict sense of the word I am resolute about accomplishing them.

So, long story short, each month I’ll come up with some sort of theme that encompasses the things I want to accomplish and at the end of the month evaluate how I did and make up new goals (or keep the same goals) for the next month.

January’s theme is simple: Take yourself seriously.  You are important. So many times I decide I can’t do things simply based on what other people would say if they found out I was doing them.  If I want to be a runner, I will.  If I want to learn a new language, I’ll do it.  If I want to dye my hair green, so be it.  Sometimes it’s ok to be selfish about things you want, especially if it will make you a better person in the long run.  And for those people who will judge, or be jealous, or try to bring you down, screw them.  I’ve got too much other crap going on. I don’t need any added negativity.

January’s Goals and Challenges

Body
1. Run 3-4 days a week

2. Be able to run 3 miles by the end of January

3. Complete the planking, squats, and pushup challenge (on pinterest)

4. Give up diet coke

Mind:
1. Take the opportunity to write at least twice a week

2. Read 2 new books

3. Learn a different knitting stitch than the only one that know

Soul:
1. NO cellphone, ipad, computer after 9:30 pm unless an emergency (or reading a book on the ipad, as I wind up downloading most of them).  No more mindless surfing and time wasting.

2. Do something scary each week: call someone on the phone, wear my running pants without feeling the need to hike shorts over them simply because I’m self conscious, etc.

3. Make an effort to be more world-conscious: shop more at local businesses, stop being so wasteful, etc.

4. Stop being so damn angry all the time: at my students, at my own kids, at my husband, at friends who have let me down.  I need to stop carrying this baggage every where I go.  It’s not solving any problems.

Honestly, these don’t seem so unreasonable (except maybe the diet coke :).

I know I can do it and I know there are people out there who will support me in this endeavor, and really, support me anything I decide to do.  And those are the people I really need to keep around.

Blast from the Past: 2012 New Year’s Post

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Here is my New Years Resolution Post from 2012.  Oh how things change and still remain the same.

Each year I try and come up with a few (dozen) New Year’s resolutions, and every year I fail miserably when trying to follow them.  Maybe it’s because I know that 7 million other people are making the same exact ones (eat healthier, exercise more, yell at the kids less).  I don’t know.  The point is that this year I am only going to make one resolution: no regrets.  I have spent so many years regretting almost every decision I have made and I realize this is a giant waste of my time.  No matter what choice I made I always figured that it was the wrong one, that maybe the grass was greener on the other side of the fence.  Then I worry and complain and whine because yet again I didn’t get my way (when in fact, that’s exactly what I got).

I came up with this resolution a few nights ago when a friend asked me and my husband out for New Years Eve.  I had to decline because of the kids and I began to reminisce about what it was like before I had kids.  When M was first born I was too scared to ever think that way.  M was our little miracle baby after a bunch of mishaps so it felt almost blasphemous to feel tired and simply need a break.  Once O came along though, the weight of working full time and having two tiny kids really did start to take its toll and I began to remember what it felt like to sleep in, eat whenever/whatever I wanted, drive out to the beach on a moments notice, pick up and move to a different state, go out with friends when they invited…

I started to think where I would be if I hadn’t had kids.  Would I be teaching english in Chile?  Would I have joined the Peace Corps?  Would I be getting my Ph.D?  All these little thoughts begin to creep into my sub conscience and I start to feel jilted, like I would be so much happier and better off if I had waited for a few more years and really done these wonderful, un-kid friendly things.

And then O looks at me a cracks up and M comes over to give me a snuggle and I realize had I become that person, running around the world doing all these wonderful things, what I would be thinking is how wonderful I bet my life would be if I had children to share it with.

Here’s to no regrets in 2012.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things”

/ Cassie / 1 Comment

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.”  ~Marilyn Monroe

I really do love this time of year.  I used to think it had to do with idea of Christmas, family, presents, lights, and all the other things that go along with the season.  Yes, these things play a small part in the overall feeling of contentment I get during December, but they are not all encompassing.  I always thought my favorite holiday was Christmas, but it wasn’t until this year that I realized it is not.

My favorite holiday is New Years and for so many reasons.  Honestly, I am big fan of New Years Resolutions.  While I agree that you can begin a resolution at any time and you should never wait to change something you truly believe in, there is something so wonderful about the year ticking over to a new new number.  It’s almost as if New Years Day is a form baptism.  With the change of a number, the mistakes and regrets and uncomfortable feelings cease to exist, making it that much easier to start fresh and anew.  With the rip of a calendar page the whole world can begin again. You can set goals, make new decisions, basically become the person you have been waiting to become.

The other day I looked back on a New Years Eve post that I wrote as 2011 rolled into 2012.  2012 was the year, I decided with a vengeance, that I would have no regrets.  No matter what decision or choice I made, I would go with it, own up to it, and if it didn’t work out, I would roll with the punches.  Needless to say, this did not happen.  I still have a lot of trouble letting go, moving on, and not dwelling on past mistakes and regrets.  But really, in hindsight, this was a terrible resolution to make simply because the failure rate was astronomical.  While I can learn to take my regrets in stride, they will always occur.  It’s how I handle the feelings of regret that is the important part.

I think the reason I am looking forward to this New Years more than any other holiday is because, for the most part, 2013 sucked.  And I don’t mean in an “Oh I dropped my ice cream cone on the ground” kind of way.  I mean in a real, traumatic, life changing kind of way.  The most obvious thing is, of course, my father passing, which lead to a downward spiral of depression, but there was also going through the IEP process with Max, learning nothing was “wrong” with Max, but people made me think there was, a very rough school year last year, money problems, marriage issues, losing a car, and probably a myriad of other small things, that when pieced together were a recipe for disaster.

But this year, it will be different, if for no other reason than it has to be.  I can’t go through another year like last year.  In all honestly, I don’t think I would survive.  I think that because of everything that has happened this year I have grown and changed.  I’m not the same person that I was 365 days ago, and I couldn’t be happier with that.

I don’t have all of my specific resolutions figured out quite yet, but I do know the overarching theme.  Basically, I just need to be myself.  So many of my problems seem to stem from me hiding who I really am or even not allowing myself to shine too brightly in front of others.  I keep thinking that I don’t know who I am, but really I do, I’m just too scared of judgement to always show it.  There are all things we need to work on and change within ourselves, but sometimes, it’s ok to let the weird shine a little bit.

In so many ways I know who I am. I tend to have too many emotions and too often, the way I express them is over the top.  I cry too much, feel too much, love too hard, get jealous when I shouldn’t, and have a terrible temper. I’m loyal, but cautious.  I don’t always believe the best in people, and I’ve been proven right.  These are simply things I am not going to apologize for anymore.  I shouldn’t have to apologize for my feelings because they are real and a part of who I am, and the way I feel is important.  I need to stop worrying about constantly being judged.

Judgement seems to come at all times, even when we are doing something to better ourselves or set out in the right direction.  I think that is part of the reason I never really got anywhere with my running.  Sure, I improved, but I definitely didn’t try as hard as I could.  Basically, it was because I wouldn’t allow myself to take myself seriously and this was a mistake.  I was so worried people were going to judge me: Why does she think she can be a runner?  She’s not a real runner.  Why are you buying another pair of running shoes, you’re not a real runner…you’re like a really fast walker.  These are all thoughts that I thought other people were going to say about me because these are all thoughts that I was saying to myself.

Yes, I’m probably never going to run a marathon.  Yes, I’m pretty slow. Yes, there are a million reasons why I shouldn’t be running.  But I am.  And I like it.  And that’s all that matters.  And I don’t need to apologize for it.

I’m allowed to try hard.  I’m allowed to be good at things. Hell, I’m allowed to be bad at things.  I’m allowed to love you too much and tell you about it.  I’m also allowed to tell you why you are hurting my feelings if you are.  I’m allowed to take a break from people who aren’t letting me be me and are constantly trying to put me down to make themselves feel better.  I’m allowed to be who I am, and if someone doesn’t like it, it’s their loss.  I actually think I’m pretty awesome sometimes.

2014: The year of being me.

How nothing and everything has changed…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Driving home, the sky accelerates
And the clouds all form a geometric shape
And it goes fast
You think of the past
Suddenly everything has changed” ~The Flaming Lips

Since I hadn’t been on Facebook in a few weeks, I missed random things that were happening.  As I perused a little this morning, I saw my brother had posted that last Thursday marked 6 months since my father passed away.  I couldn’t believe it.  Had it really been six months already? Had close to 180 days truly passed?  Have I simply been asleep or in a coma to suddenly wake up and find out this information? How can something feel like yesterday and years ago all at once?

I can honestly say that I have been through more in this 6 months than probably the rest of my life put together.  The dizzying highs and lows, the turmoil that was self-created throughout the summer, it caused a sort of retreat into myself that I have not quite been able to come out of yet.  True, I am not the person I was in August, not quite knowing which way was up and which way was down, confused about the sheer aspect of living life on a daily basis at time.  I am far from that, but I still sometimes feel the need to protect myself from people, and even from feelings, making sure I don’t become that summertime person I was.

While I have let go of the summer; of my dad, of memories, unsure decisions, and enlightening life changes, I haven’t truly let go.  Everything about these few months still hang around me like a dark cloud that could either blow on by or begin pouring down on me at any minute. Every time I think my stride has become right again and my path is straight and narrow a turn, or a rock, or even a small pebble comes out of nowhere to cause me to stumble and fall.  It causes me to relive and remember things that I don’t necessarily want to.

While I may have used the excuse of my dad dying before as the reason I was so off kilter this summer, I need to stop. First and foremost, it’s not fair to him.  He wasn’t a great man, frankly, he wasn’t a good man either, at least not to me, but when someone leaves us we can choose how we see things, and I choose to remember the early years over the later ones.  It’s not fair to continue to blame him for my short comings.  True, his death contributed, but only in the way that it caused initial strife and turmoil within myself.  I had the choice at that moment to begin getting better or continue down a path of self-destruction and we know which one I chose. I had no way to handle my feelings, or really simply to understand them, so I created myself anew, became someone that I wasn’t, simply so I wouldn’t have to deal with the effects of the pain; simply so I wouldn’t have to deal with feeling anything at all.

So many things died this summer, most notably, important parts of myself marred by uneasy choices and decisions along the way.  I have used the fall to rebuild what was lost and broken, and find the parts that were stolen and forgotten about. Some times I feel like I am back together better than ever and at others I feel like I am still a giant pile of rubble ready to be swept into the trash, missing pieces that are so integral to my survival

I’d like to be all zen and believe that all the decisions, even the bad ones, contribute to who you are. I’d like to think that even the bad decisions have gotten me to the place I am today and I should be grateful.  But I’m not all zen. I’m not even a little zen.  I’m not an optimist, I’m a realist.  In the words of Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Life could be a little sweet, But life could be a little shitty.”  And really, in a nutshell, that’s how I feel.

But if we’re still breathing, if we’re still upright, if we can still find something to smile about, then we haven’t lost our hope.

What I know now more than ever is that sometimes life sucks.  But then again, sometimes it doesn’t.