Attack of the Obtuse Monster

 I'm not exactly sure how it started but I started referring to myself as a monster... I would finish working out and I would say I was a sweaty monster... if I was in a bad mood I was a grumpy monster... if I was being weird I was a silly monster... I think you get the idea. Well, my verbage was used often enough that the Favorite picked up on it and now I am his monster, and while this is almost embarrassing to say out loud, yes, that is his most commonly used pet name for me... Monster. Oddly enough I find it endearing, probably because I consider myself to be more in the Gremlin category (cute just don't feed me after midnight) and not IT status...he has yet to confirm where HE thinks the truth lies...

Well the Favorite has established, and was well warranted to do so, that in me lives an Obtuse Monster (his word choice). She does not see reason, she is stubborn, and her logic is grounded firmly in Narnia (aka does not exist). She tends to be inconsolable, and really nothing you say or do can help, but it most certainly can make things worse. On the other hand, staying silent can have just as explosive results, so it is always best to proceed cautiously. Fun right? Fortunately, this monster does not surface too often (according to me at least).

My sources tell me she was on the loose yesterday, March 18th. Hopefully not too many were hurt. In a rare interview the Monster has opened up and offers not only an apology but tries to show the reasoning behind the attack(the monster has also apologized directly to the Favorite as he often takes the brunt of the attack).

"I can't explain exactly why things happen the way that they do... I just start feeling insecure and scared and so lashing out just seems like the natural way to protect myself. I am not trying to hurt anyone, it really just feels like an irrational act of self preservation."

All joking (and monsters) aside, insecurities and fears manifest in our daily lives and there are bad days where the manifestation results in self destructive behavior. I'm lucky enough that my Favorite sees right through these walls that I put up, and gently helps me take them down just as quickly as I put them up. His patience and wisdom is to be envied, and he understands me like no one ever has. 

This monster is so lucky... she knows that she is incredibly blessed to have a man like the Favorite love her so completely even when she is showing her worst monstrous side. And instead of turning heel and going the other way, he takes her hand and comforts her until all that remains is his sweet little gremlin.

I love you Favorite. Thank you for letting me be me, helping me be better, and for showing me how powerful love can truly be.

Second Chances

The flower that was once beautiful and emitted such an enticing fragrance begins to slowly wilt and die. You manage to salvage a good seed and as you stare at the small seed in your palm, so empty, so lifeless, you begin to wonder what, if anything, it will produce. With faith you plant it, giving it the love and attention it deserves and you wait... and you wait... One day, you see the small stem protruding from the soil, and hope is restored.

Watching that flower die is awful, as you are powerless to save it; especially when it isn't a flower at all, but it is in fact your marriage that you are watching die a slow and painful death. There was a time during my separation (and subsequent divorce) where numbness is all that existed to me. Everything is numb because if you allowed yourself to feel, you would only be tossed about and crushed by the tidal wave of emotions, and nothing would remain. Starting to feel again hurts at first, like when you shove your hands in front of a fire after playing too long in the snow. Blood circulates into the fingertips and at first it aches and stings, but eventually it starts to feel normal again. And even tho your hands are now warm and basking in the fire, your brain still remembers the pain. And this is the moment that THE fear crosses your mind for the first time.

For those of you who have not been lucky enough (HA) to endure a divorce or an ending of a longterm partnership, I shall explain THE fear for you. No matter the circumstance of the relationship dissolution, there is always this fear that lurks in the back of your head that says, "Well, this is it... you had your chance at the life you wanted and it's gone." It is an incredibly lonely and sad place to be, because even if you feel like the decision made was the right one, as I did, you feel like you missed the bus, and you are doomed to just stand at that bus-stop for the rest of your life.

Then one day, you remember the seed that was salvaged. You look at it warily and remember THE fear. But, maybe in a bold moment, maybe subconsciously, maybe angrily, you plant it. There is a place deep in your heart that hopes it blossoms, but to the world you uphold a facade saying that you don't care, you are happy and fulfilled with your life as it is.

I'm not sure when I planted the seed but I remember when I saw the stem come out of the ground.

I had been separated for over a year, and my divorce was final when a close friend, my Favorite, approached me and quite plainly told me that he was interested in dating me. I remember feeling shocked and very surprised but after we chatted for a bit, I told him I would need to think about it a little bit.

Long story short, I thought about it and decided that it was worth trying. Now hear me out, I realize that sounds self centered or selfish, but the reason I needed to be SURE that it was worth trying was because this was a VERY good friend and I knew that dating him would ultimately end our friendship if things didn't work out, and I wasn't willing to give up his friendship without a second thought.

Things went better than I expected when we started dating. I found that our friendship translated easily into a relationship where communication was strong and we genuinely enjoyed being together. We had been dating for about a month and I knew I was in love with the Favorite, and every time I thought about how I loved him, THE fear reminded me that I'd lost my chance.

The Favorite and I went to an event one day after we had been dating a little over a month, and I'll never forget (he may not even remember) when the following happened:

Favorite turns to me: "Hey, I'm gonna go get some food, do you want anything?"
Me: "No, I'm ok, thanks tho."
Favorite: "Ok, I love you... I'll be right back"
Me stammering and bug eyed: "Ok"
*Quick kiss*

After he said I love you, I think he realized that he said it... like had REALLY said it... and not entirely on purpose even tho he had meant it (the sweat that I SWEAR I saw break out on his forehead was a tiny indication of panic). Through out our friendship we had told each other "I love you", but when we started dating that stopped due to the foot that could potentially be inserted into the mouth. Before you start chastising me for not saying it back let me say that the only reason I didn't say it back was because I was just too shocked and flabbergasted... I guess you could say he took the words out my mouth.

But I remember watching him walk away and that was when my heart allowed the seed to sprout. The fear, while it still existed, was banished to a far corner of my mind, and the roots of a new beginning began to take hold and grow.

It has taken me a long time to write about this, especially details regarding the divorce, because there is a harsh stigma that also comes with my moving on. There are many who feel that divorce was not the option, and while they are entitled to their opinion, they are not the judge of my life. The ultimate and only judge that matters looks down on me with pleasure and smiles at my joy. I know this because through out the entire process I carefully prayed and sought him, and when the time came to make a decision, I felt peace.

I don't know what the future holds. I do know that I am happy and deeply in love with my best friend. I know that I am in a healthy and nourishing relationship to my heart and soul and mind. I know that I am watching that seed I dared to plant turn into something amazing.

THE fear is wrong... I am worthy and deserving of a future and of the life that I once imagined myself having. Which is why, by the grace of God, I am so thankful for my Second Chance with my Favorite.

ONE HUNDRED

I've recounted several times because part of me just cannot believe it, but sure enough, today, September 19, 2012, is Day 100 of being healthy.

Okay... so truth time... I'm cheating a little bit because I want to post this first thing in the morning and I really don't want to have to write this early in the morning... so I'm actually perched on the floor on Day 100 Eve typing this. However, I have faith that I will make it to the morning.

These last 100 days have been quite the journey but I find myself sitting in a very comfortable place in life. I can say with quite a bit of satisfaction that I barely ever think about the food that I eat anymore. I eat mostly healthy, with the seldom (well occasional... or often...ok ok almost daily) treat. I feel like I have found a healthy balance in life that brings me great joy and peace. I do still have my rough days where I know that I shouldn't indulge in certain items, but I have become disciplined enough to recognize these signs and have learned how to effectively sidestep the pitfalls without being obsessed with them.

To be honest I'm having a hard time thinking of what much else to write. I am incredibly happy and proud of my progress but other than feeling subdued elation I am at a lack of words (shocking, I know). The one lesson that I can say with certainty that I have learned is that it's ok to fail... in fact... getting to this day I have literally failed hundreds (seriously... literally) of times over the years in trying to conquer my eating disorder. And while I sincerely hope that I have seen the last of it, I am not afraid of failing anymore, because I can recognize that each failure played its role in my eventual success.

I feel lame because this post is fairly boring, maybe somewhat anticlimactic, but I guess that's how success is sometimes. You expect it to be this huge mountain topping, fireworks exploding, orgasmic (yup, I went there) release but the truth is that success often rolls in peacefully; emmanating a quiet comfort with each breath you take, and allowing a natural joy to seep out of every pore. As this happens that heavy burden is lifted, and as you are able to unhunch your shoulders, lift your head, and able to set your eyes onto the road before you.

 Super cheesy saying (but true so whatevs): it's not how we fall, but how we get back up. To that end, I got nothing more to say except keep kickin' ass and takin' names out there peeps.

Warning Signs

TERRAIN TERRAIN...PULL UP PULL UP

As some of you know I am in the aircraft leasing biz. The phrase above is a standard warning that sounds off in the cockpit of A320's when the aircraft is careening towards the ground... comforting right?

I felt a similar warning go off in my head this morning and my recent feeling of invincibility immediately vanished. Over the last several weeks I've felt great, giving little to no thought of my eating or working out habits and just living a healthy and moderate lifestyle. All this changed when this morning at the gym my coach nonchalantly mentioned, "Hey, before you go today we need to get your measurements." My gut told me that I should avoid this. I avidly support avoiding the scale and going by how my clothes fit and how I feel while I work out. Seeing numbers messes with my head and makes me obsess (yes, I know I sound crazy) but instead of following my intuition I shrugged off the trepidation and thought, "pffttt- I got this."

My overconfidence was quickly blown away by first the number on the scale and second by my body fat %. The numbers themselves are quite irrelevant so they will not be posted here. The fact is that I'm not sure that any number would have been sufficient which therein lies why I typically avoid. I was too upset to provide any sort of poker face and much to my further humiliation felt tears pricking at my eyes.

"Holy eff, Holls... pull yourself together," I thought furiously, and the ominous warning began blaring in my metaphorical cockpit and I could feel myself begin the steep, spiraling descent. I stared at the ground and just tried to quickly gather my things and get the hell out of there, but it was too late. My coach had seen my initial response and was immediately on me like glue.

He gave me a quick pep talk and after reassuring him that I was fine I drove off and immediately began to blast worship music thru my car speakers. I needed food to my soul at that very minute and knew that was the only way I would get it. I was almost to the gym by my work (I go do cardio after crossfit before I go to work) when a txt message popped thru from my coach containing a much needed verse: Philippians 4:11-13.

"I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content in any circumstance. I have experienced times of need and times of abundance. In any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of contentment, whether I go satisfied or hungry, have plenty or nothing. I am able to do all things through the one who strengthens me."

I parked my car and took a deep breath and read the verse again. "I can do this... I can fight and I can win." I have to keep reminding myself that my mind does not always have the right answer... that my demons eagerly whisper lies that are too easy to accept and without resistance they dwell in me and live as truth.

I can happily say that I am now cruising again at a safe altitude, but the fasten seatbelt sign is still lit. Next time I will not ignore the warning signs.

"It's hard to know what can become if you give up.
So don't give up on me, please remind me who I really am.
Everybody's got a dark side."

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Recently while lounging poolside and doing a bit of day-drinking (no judging please- mini vacation with my bestie in town) I stumbled upon a soap box so naturally I stood on it. After ranting for several minutes I finally was able to shut my trap but I found it worth mentioning.

Summer is awesome and arguably my favorite time of year. I love the sun, the heat, laying out by the pool, hanging out at the beach, BBQing, and how it stays light so late. Something I do not love about summer is that it somehow gives girls the license to dress like whores. Maybe whore is too harsh of a word... skanks, sluts, tramps, hookers, or hoes are also acceptable interchangeable terms. The reason this offends me is not because I am jealous and wish that I had the body or the confidence to pull it off. It is because it makes me sad that girls lack the self-respect to dress appropriately for their age. No, not just for their age, just dress appropriately period (tho I will admit that I feel much more saddened by the girl wearing the crop-top and barely-there mini skirt that I am pretty sure was wearing diapers last week).

It's not like I don't get it ladies (I use the term ladies loosely here I guess). Dressing skantily will definitely get you attention from the fellas and I understand that it feels good and strokes your ego. When a guy is checking you out you feel awesome (unless he's super creepy), it makes you feel desired and sexy and those aren't inherently bad things. But much like men who put on a show are compensating for something, you thrusting your cleavage down everyone's throat is doing the exact same thing. It might scream, "I've got a great rack" (hopefully), but in reality it says, "Hey, I'm insecure but think I have a pretty awesome body". It is displaying a lack of respect that you feel about yourself because you are not willing (or don't know how) to put value in yourself as a person, and not just your body.

Now some girls reading this post are hating on me because I don't think that daisy dukes and a bikini top are appropriate mall attire and they are probably saying things like, "Well she is probably fat and ugly and just jealous because she can't do it." To that I can say that I don't think I'm a supermodel by any means (like, not even close). I'm very average-ish, with girl-next-door qualities; but I do know that when I am receiving attention from a man it is based on my character and not because my booty is hanging out of my dress (I couldn't with a straight face say it had anything to do with my "rack" bc I don't got one). There are some nights that I do want to feel beautiful and sexy, but there are ways to do this without being a classless hooker. Because let me emphasize this, there is NOTHING wrong with feeling comfortable in your own skin and loving your body. I LOVE that and feel like you can love your body and still demand respect by not subjecting yourself to being ogled over and drooled on.

To the teeny-tiny population of women who aren't insecure and rock the tiny dresses just bc they subscribe to the "if you got it, flaunt it" mentality, then good for you. Tho while you may not be insecure, you may want to examine why it's so important to you that you receive so much attention regarding your physical appearance (vain much?). I truly believe that even tho you are confident and secure that you are still compensating for something, but that's a battle for another day.

Short note to my male homies out there... I am SO tired of you complaining about women dressing like sluts but then checking them out on the reg. You DO realize that women notice you checking them out right? Your glazed expression and slack jaw are not easily concealed, and therefore that girl that you called a slut a minute ago is reveling in the fact that you think she's hot. She dressed that way to get your attention and congratulations, you gave it to her. So piece of advice for you, you want girls to stop dressing like hoes? Then stop looking at them and give the decent girls at the bar a chance.

And girls, don't be mistaken or naive- the guys ARE calling you skanks and whores no matter how much they like the way you look. And while you start chatting him up and thinking about your first, second, and third dates, he is thinking about your mouth and wondering if you are wearing underwear (not exactly thinking about introducing you to Mom).

Years will pass, your physical body will fade, and what will remain is who you are... your character, your integrity... don't sell out those things for what you see as a moment in the sun, because if you do you will find yourself struggling to get out of the shade for the rest of your life.

Progress Report

I can't begin to say how much I have absolutely cherished all of your comments, letters, and messages... they mean so much to me. Your support is invaluable and know that remaining accountable to you all has pushed me thru some dark moments to get to this lovely number: Day 45.


FORTY-FIVE! Truth be told I wanted to wait to give an update till day 50 but since I value instant gratification as much as the next person, I said, "I do what I want," and here we are.

Everyday is still a struggle but there are days where I think about it much less, and there are days that I feel I need to glue my ass to a chair so as to not enter the kitchen. I am currently going thru my lovely PMS cycle so it's been a rough couple of days. For my lady readers I'm sure that elaboration is not really needed...Gentlemen... allow me to explain.

The reason this week SUCKS so hard is three-fold:
1.) The Bloat: during this period (no pun intended) the tummy tends to pooch as we retain water. My tummy also treats this week like there is an embargo on CO2 so it must retain as much as possible. Thus making me feel fat and generally unattractive. For all women, this sucks (bloating is physically uncomfortable too btw... basically feels like you haven't taken a poo in a week... yes graphic but if there's a feeling that guys can relate to- it's that), however if you are a woman with a poor body image this sucks even more because it messes with your head immensely, because while you are not really "fatter", the pooch that appears when I sit down begs to differ.
2.) The Crave: So already feeling fat you would think that during this week you would just eat as clean as possible and it'll all be fine, right? Well, not exactly. Typically because of hormone spikes the body just wants food... and it's not exactly wanting you to order that grilled chicken spinach salad... it's probably leaning more toward that plate of chili cheese fries with a brownie sundae for desert. That being said I want to eat everything in sight and controlling what I eat has been incredibly difficult. Luckily I successfully polished off the bag of M&M's last night (a normal amount I promise) so I won't have to face those again, but I also crave salty things during this week. You know what salt does? Yup- causes more bloating... so I was already feeling like a beached whale, but now that I've eaten like crap and thus caused more bloating, I now feel like a dead beached whale (have you ever seen a bloated whale? Disgusting...). What's crazy is that I know that I can't have changed that much in a few days, but in my mind I just KNOW that I'm edging in on auditioning for the Biggest Loser. Thus my third point...
3.) The Irrational: I like being an even-keeled person; I tend to be generally happy and content. And even while PMSing I tend to be this way...for the majority...however... without rhyme or reason the most minute detail can transform me into a sobbing mess, or an angry crazy person. As my level headed attitude is temporarily hijacked, my emotions tend to run a bit wild like college girls on spring break. Eating disorders are typically linked emotionally, and since my emotions have been hormonally compromised this week, it has been a constant struggle to remain level headed and stay on track.

I think you can do the math: Bloat + Eating Crappy + Poor Body Image + Cray Hormones = train wreck waiting to happen. But so far I've survived, and I think that I'll get thru the rest of this week without incident. Some notable things that I can now do again that I couldn't before:

1.) Keep sweets in the house: for awhile I literally could not keep ANYTHING in the house, and you are now looking at someone who can keep icecream in her freezer and it actually LASTS for more than a week!
2.) I can bake again. I love baking for people and just a few days ago was the first time that I was able to bake and feel good about it. There were times that I would start baking cookies, cupcakes, or brownies for work or a party and would actually have to make two batches because I would eat most or all of the first one. It is so nice to be able to do something that I love again. I did make sure that I wasn't alone while baking tho, so I'm not entirely past it, but for me it was a giant milestone.
3.) Guilt free treats. Whether it's nachos, fries, a dessert, or another glass of wine, I am now able to enjoy it and not feel that heavy guilt that used to accompany it. There is still a line that would be easy for me to cross, so I am still very aware of what I am eating and choosing to do, but now if I ask myself, "Are you gonna be ok if you eat this?" If the answer is yes, it really is ok.

So that's me right now... I'm happy and healthy and cruising on. I am also dealing with and healing from the scars that initiated and perpetuated my problem which has been challenging but incredibly rewarding. I think the truth has finally been beaten thru my thick skull that I can't let my scars define me. I will carry them with me, and over time the scars fade, but the scars will remain, so that from time to time, I can look at them and remember their pain so as to not be scarred in the same way twice.

Cheers everyone.

FREEDOM

Verse 1:

Standing on this battle ground looking all around
Nothing but wreckage and loss remains
My hands are bloodied and my heart is racing
Don’t look back
No I won’t look back


I feel it coming on
Like a wild rushing wind in my ears
Like a raging fire burning bright
Like a might wave crashing on the beach
I feel that release that I’ve been waiting for


CHORUS:


And for the first time I’m breathing deep
Not the toxins that for so long suffocated me
Held me down, held me captive, made me his
I’m breathing your sweet breath of life
Your breath gives me hope, gives me strength
And you make this life worth living
You’ve given me freedom


Verse 2:


All this time I felt so alone
Crawling through this barren wasteland
All I wanted was saving, I just didn’t see your hand
Not knowing, not seeing that you were always right there


I was too blind because I wanted something else
The darkness called to me and made me it’s slave
Have you ever looked in the eyes of evil and lived to tell the tale?
Have you stared down your demons and come out on top?


CHORUS


Bridge:


For the first time I’m smiling, but not to hide the pain
For the first time I’m looking in the eyes of a future
The eyes that that showed me love
Now I’m safe in your arms of love
There’s no more chains


CHORUS


Note from Me: This song was very freeing to write as I have recently overcome something that was such a powerful hold on my life for so long. Thank you Jesus for seeing me thru...