life

The first step is admitting you have a problem…

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“Selfish persons are incapable of loving other, but they are not capable of loving themselves either.” ~Erich Fromm

I’ve never considered myself s a selfish person.  Actually, to be honest, I tended to be more of a “woe is me” or “nothing good ever happens to me” type of person.  So many things have been happening recently that were really making me feel sorry for myself.  I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t get what I wanted and everyone couldn’t cater to me just this once because I never seem to get what I want.  It took me a while (until today in fact) for me to realize that this really stems from the fact that I am selfish and want everything my way.  And, in reality, get mad and pissed off and downright spiteful when I don’t. I get it, I’m a slow learner.  But at the moment that this realization hit me, tears began streaming down my face.  I never wanted to be seen as selfish and looking back and analyzing my actions over the past few weeks/months, I couldn’t believe how terrible a person I was to people I truly care about.

Maybe I’ve been selfish my whole life.  I don’t know.  I think it stems mostly from not ever really being able to think about myself growing up because there was always someone else I needed to be taking care of.  Looking back though, especially recently, I have been selfish in past and current relationship and hurt people I really care just because I took my own feelings and desires into account before theirs.  I know that there is no consolation I can give that would make it better.  For that, I am truly sorry.

I haven’t been fair, and within that, I haven’t been kind.  In fact, I’ve been down right mean sometimes.  I couldn’t understand why people just couldn’t give me what I wanted and why we couldn’t just want the same thing.  I haven’t been generous, mostly with honesty and my emotions.  I’ve let people down because what I wanted and what they wanted were two separate things, or maybe, they were the same things but just unattainable at the time.

With my actions and my attitude lately, I’ve made it so easy for people to walk away, and then I sit there and blame them and hate them for doing just that.  It’s not fair that I expected everyone to be OK with doing what I wanted and what I needed and not expecting anyone to get hurt.  In fact, by trying to ensure that I didn’t get hurt, I hurt others which, in the end, wound up hurting me far more than I ever could have imagined.

I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t.  I wish I could go back in time; days, weeks, months, years down the road and change one minuscule detail so that everyone could be on a happier track…but I can’t.  The only things I can hope for is to learn from my mistakes and hope that I can avoid hurting anyone else to the best of my ability.

Of course, I’m talking about everyone, no one, and a select few all at the same time.  Chance are, though, I’m talking to you.  And I’m so sorry I wasn’t a better person…the person you deserve.

Fall down seven times; get up eight

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“So I put my faith in something unknown, I’m living on such sweet nothing. But I’m tired of hope with nothing to hold, I’m living on such sweet nothing ~Calvin Harris

I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately. More specifically, the things that make us happy and how people come to feel this way. C.S. Lewis once said “Don’t let your happiness depend on something you may lose.” I saw the above quote this morning that really resonated with me. How often do we base our happiness on the actions of others, or moments in time?

Without going into detailed specifics, I’ve had a tough summer, and honestly, I have no one to blame for it but myself. It all started with my dad dying and slowly snowballing out of control from there, to the point that I didn’t even know who I was anymore. And really, I know it started even before that. I saw the warning signs did nothing to stop the avalanche. I was unhappy, moody, sullen and depressed. And when I wasn’t feeling those things, I wasn’t feeling anything at all.

I needed something. I was feeling antsy and itchy. I felt like something was missing that I couldn’t put my finger on. I felt like my skin was too tight and something within me was trying to break free. What it all comes down to was the need to feel alive, or rather the need to feel something other than what I was feeling. I felt like I had been going through the motions for so long thinking that maybe I was happy, when I realized that I was simply complacent. When my dad died, something inside of me changed. It wasn’t that I was devastated or heartbroken, because I wasn’t.

A first I felt relieved that all his suffering was over. And then I began to worry…about myself. My dad spent most of his life depressed and angry which caused him to alienate every single person in his life. Most days, he was downright mean. And I could really see myself heading down the same path and it scared me.

I needed to shake things up and feel something just to prove I was nothing like him. I needed to be reckless and downright irresponsible. And I was. I put my needs for “aliveness” ahead of the the needs of so many people around me. I felt conflicted but I also felt alive…knowing I should change the situation, but also unable to do it at the same time.

I now realize that a lot of it had to do with me looking outside of myself for some form of happiness and thought certain situations were going to make me happier. And they did…and they didn’t. I spent most of my summer in complete turmoil, wrestling with feelings I thought I had, with feelings I actually had, with feelings I was supposed to be having, all while trying to wear the mask of normalcy around my children and friends.

And then just as quickly and spontaneously as the “aliveness” started, it was over. I have let myself think and analyze for a week. Its almost as if I was grieving. I don’t know, though, what exactly I was grieving for. Was it for what I lost, or was is simply because I now knew I was going to go back to feeling nothing in my daily life?

I still haven’t figured it out, but what I do knows that it’s time to take a breath and move on and start figuring out how to be again. And maybe if I can figure out how to simply exist without all this sadness and anger, I can also figure out how to be happy.

I have to try, I have to try, I have to try. My life depends on it.

Third Time’s a Charm?

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“You build on failure.  You use it as a stepping stone.  Close the door on the past.  You don’t try to forget the mistakes, but you don’t dwell on it.  You don’t let it have any of your energy, or any of your time, or any of your space.” ~Johnny Cash

I’m going to try this one more time.  I will be successful.  I have to be.

Here is a paragraph about a challenge a friend issued me all the way back in May.

Come up with 10 things I can actually accomplish in the next 31 days that will put me closer to goal of simply finding out what I want out of life.  The real challenge the real challenge come from the fact that these accomplishments need to be specific, and for all purposes, measurable.  No vagueness allowed, which has always been a crutch to avoid striving for accomplishments.

Needless to say, I was unsuccessful.  In the almost four months since this was posted, I accomplished 2 or three things on my list.  I tried it for May, I tried it for June.  I’m not even going to pretend that I tried for July (which I am now dubbing “The Lost Month”).  But now that I’m trying to make my life more “found” than “lost”, I figured it was time to try again.

After much soul-searching, here are the 10 accomplishments I came up with for August.

  1. Make it to the gym at least four times per week.  This is down from my usual six, but definitely higher than my embarrassing summer average.
  2. Find a school for Oliver, one that is based more on what works well for his personality, not based on how convenient or cheap it is.
  3. Spend more quality time with my children and really get to know them.  Each child gets one date day/night with just me per week.  I promise, this is for me, not them.
  4. Read two new books this month.
  5. Complete four other blog posts this month.
  6. By the end of the month, be soda free.
  7. Find a new hobby, that I can do without current friends/family (as in something completely for myself).
  8. Take one photo everyday to document a moment that makes me smile.  This will remind me that I was happy at least once a day this month.  
  9. Create a budget.  Sticking with it, will be more of a next month challenge, let’s be real.
  10. Eat at least one fruit and one vegetable per day.  I promise, this is a challenge.

Here’s to August 2013 being a month of accomplishments.

Oh, the Guilt…and Letting Go.

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“No work or love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart, just as no valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living now.” ~ Alan Watts

I tend to carry around a lot of guilt.  I don’t know why.  I joke around that it is because I am Catholic, but really, I only am in the technical sense.  It could be because I am the first-born and am constantly trying (and many times failing) to take care of everyone.  In all honesty, the reasoning probably isn’t that important.  I’m constantly worried that my words and actions (or lack thereof) are hurting the people who are closest to me.

It’s a terrible feeling to have guilt over a situation and an even more terrible feeling to share with others.  They either assume you are egotistical and think you think the world revolves around you, or they see it as a grave emotion, one which will alter the space-time continuum because it means you think you should be making a different choice.

I have been wondering lately if guilt really is about actually feeling bad about certain words, feelings, and actions or if it is more a way that we make ourselves feel bad simply because we know in certain situations we are supposed to feel that way; almost as if it is a type of penance for the action itself.

For some, guilt hardly exists at all, and when it does, it is fleeting and inconsequential.  For others, it drives them literally mad.  I feel like I am somewhere in the middle.  I tend to suffer from just enough guilt to kind of ruin my day or a situation.  And the funny thing is I tend to feel it even when I know I shouldn’t…even when I really don’t have anything to feel guilty about.

I’m having trouble letting go of the guilt and I’m not quite sure what, if anything, I should do about it.

Frankly, I seem to have a problem with letting go period.  My head can sit down and make a logical argument on why I should let go of certain situations.  I can make valid arguments as to why things are better a certain way.  It looks so good and paper and I get so proud of myself for making the right decision, the informed decision, the logical decision, the guilt-free decision.

And then there’s my heart; who doesn’t care about my logical arguments and all that other bullshit.  It just wants to run free through a field of wild flowers and feel the most emotions (whether good or bad) that it can.

I wish they would take to each other more and maybe work out some form of compromise.  But then again, as I’ve stated before in this post, I tend to be an extremist.  With me, so many times, it’s all or nothing.  All heart or all head.  I realize it shouldn’t be that way.  I realize it is completely unhealthy, yet I do it anyway.  The most horrible part is not how these types of actions affect me, but how they affect the people around me, especially those involved in the situations and circumstances (oh, hello guilt, nice to see you again).

I’m pretty sure this is why I have such a hard time letting go.  Because for me, letting go means: close curtain, finished, finito, nothing more, final, culmination, and most importantly, the end of the road.

Do I have trouble letting go simply because I’m selfish and greedy and I want things my way or no way, or is it because I’m not ready to give up yet?

In any case, maybe it’s time I had a talk with my heart and had her back off a little for awhile and let my brain take over.  She could probably use a vacation anyway.

The Comeback

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“To admit that you want to have a comeback means you have to admit you weren’t what you were supposed to be.  You dropped below your own standard.” ~Marilyn Manson

Today is the first day in a long time that I have felt like me.  Not the me that I once was, not the me that I could be or am supposed to me, but the legitimate, here I am “Me”.  And it feels absolutely amazing.

I never realized before how much I actually like being me.  I always had this dark cloud over my shoulder insinuating that I should be skinnier, prettier, smarter, a better parent, a better wife, and better friend, better at my job, etc.  But today, I love being who I am and everything about myself.  I’m feeling optimistic about the future and what it holds for the first time in a long time.

I feel like there has been a lot of craziness over the past few months and because of this I know I’ve become rather depressed.  This “monster” snuck up on me when it thought that I wasn’t paying attention and within just a short while I began to feel almost like a shadow of myself…as if I was never really “there”.  I’m no stranger to depression, and I know what to look for, but I didn’t really think I wanted to admit that this is what was happening.  It’s as if the depression was draining all the strength out of me and I didn’t have the energy to try and get it back.

I tried hard, I really did. I’d go to the gym here and there, eat right here and there, be present for my friends and family here and there. But I never truly felt like I was anywhere.  I kept hoping that something would come along that would simply jump start my system again.

About a week ago my gym friend Paula who runs a page on Facebook called The Weigh Inn  posted a challenge asking all of us who were interested in losing 15 pounds by August 31st to join her and each of us would be able to hold the other ones accountable.  I joined right up, hoping that it would be that motivation or kick in the pants that I needed to get back in action.  It helped, somewhat, but I still wasn’t “back”.  I still felt like something was holding on and not letting me go.

Today I wrestled with the idea of going to the gym.  I finally decided just to do it and I am so glad I did.  Something happened when I started on that machine.  No longer did it seem like I was simply watching the clock and counting the minutes until I could get off or making excuses as to why I should end the work-out early.
I finished my whole workout and when I stepped off that machine, for the first time in two months, I felt “HERE”.  What was missing the entire time wasn’t someone else pushing me or motivating me.  It was ME!  I knew it from the beginning that making this “comeback” had to come from within.  I just didn’t realize the way to do it was to push myself and not be afraid that I was going to get pushed back. I had to stand up to myself.  And as most of us can attest, we are out own worst enemy, critic, and friend.

I found this on Pinterest this morning and I couldn’t help stealing it.  It really signifies how I felt today and I had to share.

Image

I know there will be bumps and sores, times when I am too tired or too moody, times when I just don’t feel like it, and even times when there just isn’t enough time.  But I’m not worried about that anymore.  I know longer **think** I can do this.  I know I can.

I made my way back on the horse today and I’m not getting off for anyone.

Living on borrowed time

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“If you’re not failing every now and again, it’s a sign that you’re not doing anything very innovative.” ~Woody Allen

Well, I failed at my attempt to get back to the gym this week.  Actually, that’s not true, I did go one day.  And really, I had an upper respiratory infection to contend with, so I had a slight excuse.  But honestly, I know a lot of it had to do with just being lazy.  I don’t know what it is.  Maybe it’s the heat (which I cannot stand) or maybe it’s simply because I don’t have to be doing anything that I don’t feel like doing anything.

Or maybe it really is the fact that I need something or someone to motivate me.  I thought I was strong enough to do this on my own, but am I?  Maybe I am tired of kicking my own butt and just need someone to do this with me. Maybe I need a little competition, I don’t know.  Point is, I need to figure it out and I need to figure it out fast.

I know that I don’t want to slip back into old ways and habits.  I literally cannot afford to.  We can say what we want about there always being a tomorrow, or tomorrow being a new day, or we can always start over, but honestly, we can’t.  And some of us, more than others know this.

There isn’t always a tomorrow, or more time, or even a better time.  I have to stop relying on other people and learn to do this on my own.

Because contrary to popular belief, time isn’t free.  It’s borrowed. And I better make the most of it while I have it.

Choices…we have to make them.

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“In the long run, we shape our lives, and we shape ourselves.  The process never ends until we die.  And the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility.” ~Eleanor Roosevelt

The saying goes that there is nothing certain except death and taxes.  I’d like to add something to that.  Nothing is certain except death, taxes and choices.  We face them every day.  Sometimes they’re easy to make, sometimes they’re hard, and sometimes they down right suck.  I usually loathe making choices.  I’m always certain I’ve made the wrong one and usually agonize about making them for longer than necessary.

I’ve been very proud of myself lately.  I’ve been taking my choices in stride; knowing that each choice comes with their own set of consequences, both good and bad.  I can choose to eat this or that.  I can choose to work out or not.  I can choose to get worked up or calm the f*** down.

Today was my non-gym day.  With no kids at home the husband and I ordered out…Chinese.  These types of decisions usually stress me out.  What should I eat?  What is the healthiest?  Is there even a point or should I go all out and say “screw it”? I know you’re dying to know what I got, but technically, it’s irrelevant.  I made the choice, owned the choice, and in no way regretted the choice.

About an hour later I had a hankering to go to the gym.  I don’t know why, but I’ve learned when the mood strikes, own it or you’ll regret it later. I convinced an awesome friend to join me (Hi Jane!) and was so happy I decided to go.  I ran faster than I did on Monday and while I only burned 350 calories, that’s 350 calories more than I would burn sitting on my ass and watching TV (or writing this blog post).

I’m not only proud of the choices I have been making lately, but more proud of the fact that I am owning them.  What I am learning to do is make the best choice I can for me.  If I go to the gym, that’s a choice I made.    If I eat a cookie, that’s a choice I make (because sometimes you just need a damn cookie).

And really, doing what I know to be my best I can is all I can ask of me.  And I’m pretty proud of that.

Plus, it doesn’t hurt that today I realized I can now bend over and touch not just my toes but the FLOOR without bending my knees.  That, in itself, is an awesome victory…no matter what choice I made today.

And really, we all know, personal victories; the ones that only matter to us, are the best!

Milestones

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“Women can’t do everything at the same time, we need to understand milestones in our lives come in segments.” ~Madeleine Albright

Let me start by saying that during the past few weeks I have hated the scale.  It has not been the friend it once was.  Well, in all honestly, it was never really my friend but it had become friendlier in the past few months.

I have no doubt that this has led to my lack of motivation at the gym and unhealthy eating that has consumed my life (and my blog posts) lately.

But today.  Today I reached a milestone I didn’t know I could.

I am officially down 4 pants sizes since mid-January. FOUR!  A size I haven’t been in since college.

And tomorrow, for the first time in probably 10 years, I will be wearing shorts.  OUT. IN. PUBLIC. Not only because they fit, but also because they actually don’t look that bad.  And while some people may not agree with that last statement, for the first time in that long, it’s my opinion that matters, not anyone else’s.

Four pants sizes, 40 some pounds, 6 inches of hair, one 5K, and a new, more positive attitude.

While the scale hasn’t liked me lately, my gym bag is packed and ready for tomorrow morning.

Because sometimes there are better milestones than the changing numbers on the scale.

(Past), Present, and Future

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“The first recipe for happiness is: avoid too lengthy meditations on the past.” ~Andre MauroisI

This post started out in a funny way.  All day I had been thinking about writing something pertaining to my constant focus on the past rather then on the present or future.  As usual, I had trouble starting my post.  I really didn’t know what I wanted to say, or maybe, I knew what I wanted to say, but really had no idea how to say it in a clever way.

So what did I do?  I looked back at past things I wrote trying to find some witty analogy to start with…and it hit me.  I do this constantly when trying to figure out how to solve a problem.  I look to the past hoping that it’s already been solved. That way I don’t actually have to do any work at all.

I seem to have an obsession with the past.  I am always looking back thinking the grass was greener or I was happier then than I am now.  It is really happiness or is it simply nostalgia?  What is it about an event being in the past that makes it seem sweeter or kinder to us than it was before?  For some reason I feel that the present and future can never measure up when, in reality, I’m not really giving them a chance.

What it really boils down to, in the simplest terms, is that I am a giant scaredy cat.  I fear making decisions specifically because I don’t want to be wrong.  I look back at the past and think, “I was happier then so I should do this” or even “I made the wrong decision that time, lets take the other road now.”

I finally got a haircut yesterday after weeks and weeks of saying that I was going to.  Why did it take me so long?  Because I was so scared that once it was done I was going to regret the decision.  Not only was I scared about the amount of regret I would have, but what would other peopler think?  Some people told me not to get my hair cut.  Should I listen to them or do what i want?  I know this is a pretty insignificant example, but if I freak out this much about a hair cut, think about what happens when I have to make real life decisions.

Do I look back to the past and pick decisions based on how receptive they were by my friends and family (and even strangers) and try to repeat the ones that were the most agreeable to others in my life?  Is that why the past is so important to me, because it holds the acceptance of others?

The bigger question is how honest am I being with myself?  Do I make decisions based on what I want, or based on what other people might think about the decisions I am making. I’m constantly joking with one of my friends that I am 32 years old and really don’t have time for drama in my life anymore.  Even as I say those words I realize I am a big, fat hypocrite.  Even when I’m being honest here, I’m not being completely honest.  I have secrets like everyone else.  Things I can’t put in print or even talk about for fear of being judged.

Am I doomed to constantly look towards the past or will I ever be able to just accept my present and future, judgement and all?

Here’s me in the moment.  Judge away.

Photo on 5-27-13 at 9.12 PM

Something…anything

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“This suspense is terrible.  I hope it will last.” ~Oscar Wilde

Did you ever lose that feeling?

You know the feeling I’m talking about…that “looking forward to something” feeling.

To me, that was always the best feeling in the world and it seems to have disappeared.

Even with something as trivial as a television show or a book, the feeling of yearning, wanting, and delayed gratification is always wonderful.  Here’s an example: I always stop watching a television show when the last season is about to air.  I never realized I did it until someone pointed it out.  I thought it was because maybe I got bored with the show and became too busy.  In reality it’s because I wasn’t ready for it to end; I wasn’t ready to have all the answers yet.  I wasn’t ready for the conflict to be resolved.

I have a friend who is single and has a crush on guy that we see at the gym.  I see the way her face lights up when she thinks about the possibilities of seeing him and how excited she gets.  And I get jealous.  Here I am, the girl with the husband and kids, which is what everyone is apparently striving towards, and I’m jealous of my friend who is trying to obtain what I already have.  What I’m really jealous about is the fact that I feel like she still has opportunities; the opportunity for a new love, the opportunity for a stole glance, the opportunity for excitement and the unknown, the opportunity for her path to change.

Maybe I’ve been feeling this void/emptiness/lack of hope because I feel like my path is set.  Things are going well.  And my stress level is low.  Do I really have no complaints or am I just becoming complacent?

Now, don’t get me wrong…I’m not asking for drama.  Just a little spark, a little glitter, a little pow. Something to make me feel special, or even simply to make me feel like I’ve got somewhere to go.

Something to give me a little hope…