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...

RECONCILING

Often it is the people closest to you that hurt you the most, intentionally or unintentionally, it happens. In the greater scheme of things, the person normally feels genuine remorse and you forgive them and you move on. In some instances you may find that the grievance feels too large and that you are unable to get past it and therefore the relationship is over. As humans we cannot forget how people have hurt us, therefore if we choose to forgive someone for something then it must be a daily decision to forgive them so as to not hold it over their heads, and to not allow the seeds of bitterness to plant.

Have you found that some people are just poison to your life? Week after week they let you down, disappoint and hurt you, lie to you and offer their friendship only when it is convenient for them. These inherently selfish individuals know only how to truly love themselves and use people’s friendships to feel better about themselves. I find that with these relationships there is not a lot of middle ground; things are either really great or they are really bad. This mostly hinges on the mood of the person, depending on how much energy they are choosing to invest into the relationship at that time. So what do you do with these types of friendships? Do you stop offering forgiveness? Do you cut them out of your life?

Jesus says that we are to offer our brother forgiveness no matter how many times they have wronged us, so with every ounce of grace that my human heart can offer, I try to do this. Now, I have not taken the time to research the Bible thoroughly on what I am about to say, so I stand ready to be corrected. When Jesus was talking about forgiveness I do not think that he was implying that just because we forgive someone that they need to be a continued part of our lives. I think that the area of forgiveness is vital to moving on and to healing, but this by no means gives the individual a “get out of jail free” card. The first couple times, maybe, but after the same individual continues hurting you in the same way over and over again, I think the remorse of their actions can be called into question.

This is where the separation between forgiveness and reconciliation becomes very clear to me.

Whether they are remorseful or not, whether they deserve it or not, forgiving the person is still key for our own healing and you need to do it for yourself, not for them. The wound will not heal without forgiveness… the anger will live in your heart and you will carry it with you, allowing it to cause possible damage to other relationships. So it is clear that we should always forgive, if only for our own gain, but when do we choose that reconciling is no longer an option?

When do you draw that line and say that they no longer have the right to be a part of your life? Unfortunately there is no rule book and it is entirely subjective to the situation and the relationship. For me this point comes when I realize that forgiveness is difficult, or almost impossible, and that trust is broken completely.

I am having an incredibly difficult time letting go of some very deep hurts by a friend and I am unsure of how to proceed. I want this person in my life but I feel they are not sorry for how they have wronged me and because of that a deep sadness clings to their name.

I did not realize how hurt I still was until a mutual friend flat out told me, they “used you”… and while I had thought this many times in my own mind, having a mutual friend who knows us both well felt like being doused with ice water. So my dilemma is: how do you reconcile still being friends with someone who used your love and friendship in the worst way possible? Who used your love and friendship against you time after time for their own gain? Right now, with how I feel, I’m not sure that I can. This friend has apologized when they have wronged me, but now in retrospect those apologies feel flimsy as they continued to hurt me in the same way. Which, sidebar: A person who is really sorry will not continue to hurt you in the same way repeatedly. A truly apologetic heart will lead the person to change their actions so as to not make the same mistake twice, or will at least make a sincere attempt to not.

Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me… that’s the saying anyway… but how does that continue on for the third, fourth, fifth, et cetera time? At what point do you stop kicking the dead horse and accept that the friendship is better off being over? At what point does hearing "I'm sorry, I love you" from them stop meaning something, or should stop meaning something? As I’ve said in previous posts, love without actions is dead, and I would strongly argue that someone who loves you would not continue to use you… I think I can get an Amen to that from the majority.

My problem is that I tend to love quite fiercely; I’m loyal to the core and once I have accepted you into my life it is incredibly hard for me to let you go; therefore I will continue to fight for friendships long past the point that others think that I “should”, loving people deeply who may not necessarily “deserve” it.

Reconciling is deeper than forgiveness because while forgiveness is a necessary component, it also ties in understanding… and I don’t know how to make sense of or reason this situation. I’ve spent many times in prayer asking God for wisdom about this, and I know he wants me to forgive, but perhaps reconciliation is not in the cards. I feel as though there is a giant road block and I simply cannot get there.

The truth is I cannot reach reconciliation on my own. In this case particular case, and probably many cases of resentment, it requires the individual to put in the work and to help remove the road block, showing effort that they still want the relationship too.

However, until that happens, I should probably look for that detour marked forgiveness so as to move on. And perhaps one day that friend will repair the road of reconciliation, at which point I will gladly walk upon it.

Coming Out of the Non-Gay Closet

Shame is crippling; it binds you and holds you captive. It isolates and demoralizes you from dealing with the problem because you feel incapable of reaching out for help. Fear of what people will think gives shame its' power and control; day in and day out you become a slave to the secret that you keep.

No more.

To neutralize the playing field and shrug off the shame there is one thing you can do to get rid of it... expose it.

For over ten years I have struggled with eating disorders, primarily bulimia, but also anorexia and binge eating. This was exposed to my family and several friends 7 years ago and I went to therapy to deal with it. I was "clean", if you will, for about 6 months and then I reverted back to old habits. Food became my outlet... after a stressful or emotional day I would kill a bag of chips and 1/2 gallon of ice cream without even thinking about it. Every day I have struggled with it, and every time I sit down to a meal I have thought about it.

It's no secret that I am not a very confident person, having little self-esteem in my few talents, and it wasn't long before my self-loathing sent me into a downward spiral that I could no longer control. I felt like such a hypocrite, being a personal trainer, preaching the good news of health and fitness, while in the privacy of my own home would make myself throw up until I saw blood in the toilet bowl. Afterwards I would sit on the floor and just cry... letting the shame wash over me, and telling myself that tomorrow would be different.

But the problem was that tomorrow was never different, maybe for a few days I would be ok, but then the next couple weeks would be a massacre of wrecking havoc on my body. It was a cycle that I didn't know how to break. I didn't know how to love myself to stop.
I have had a few friends try and help me, but found myself feeling like a burden over time and reverted to keeping it a secret and not divulging what was happening behind closed doors.

A little over a month ago I attempted to qualify for the Boston Marathon and after failing, I realized that I would never be able to accomplish this goal, or any of my fitness goals, if I continued to do this. I also knew that with the regularity that it was becoming, that if I didn't stop then I was going to die from it. I knew that I couldn't do it on my own... I knew that I needed accountability and even though I was terrified to do it, I knew that I needed to trust someone with my secret.

I remember texting a friend that night, right in the moment that I decided that accountability was the key, and I told her, "I have to tell you something serious tomorrow... do NOT let me out of it." She admitted curiosity as to what I was going to tell her but texted me back, "Ok," and she followed thru the next day. I cried as I told her, but she just said, "Let's take care of this. What do you need me to do?" We set up a game plan where she would check in with me and I gave her free reign to monitor what I was eating. I followed suit with another friend and she did the same. Almost every day they would ask me, "What day is it?" and while I would love to say that every time they asked me, that the number grew, there were times when I would embarrassingly look away and say, "Day one..." but without judgment and with only thoughts and care for my health and well being they would ask what happened and how can we fix it.

Today is Day 30... it is the first time that I have gone a month being "clean" in several years. I'm posting this because I want shame to go eff itself and I am proud for showing strength and resolve in an area I wasn't sure I could conquer. After completing 30 days I realize that this is something that I will always carry with me... it will always be a part of me and who I am... it is part my story... my testimony... and it is something that I do not need to be ashamed of.

I know that without my girls I would NOT be here... they have allowed me to lean on them and have encouraged me so much during this time. They tell me all the time that I'm worth it... something that I don't really believe myself yet, but that I'm working on.

I want to say two things really quick... A) I am sorry if you are hurt by this because I did not confide in you about it, or if I have lied to you about it. If I did not confide in you it does NOT mean that I do not trust you, it just demonstrates the hold that this disorder had on my life and the amount of shame that I carried. B) Please do not talk to me about this in person... feel free to write and leave comments, but I am not ready to talk to people about this openly. Yes  yes, it's ironic since I am posting this on a public website, but this is my way throwing off my shame and I would ask that you respect my wishes until I’m ready.

I find that everyday has its new challenges, and like a climber on a cliff face, one small, but wrong, deviation could send me straight back down to the bottom.
Confronting what we are most ashamed of or what we struggle with most is humbling because it requires a transparency and trust that people are not going to judge you for it. I believe Dr. Suess says it best: "Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." Hiding the secret will not make it easier and it will not make it go away... it will fester and like an infection will seep into other areas slowly poisoning your life. Everyday people struggle with demons and try and deal with them on their own, and while few are successful, the rest fall victim, day after day after day.

Break the cycle... show courage and reach out... if people judge it is because they are suffocated by their own cowardice to face their own issues. They sulk in their jealousy and bitterness that someone else can demonstrate the bravery necessary to rise above and overcome.

Show heart.
Be strong.
Be brave.
Be courageous.
Be you.

Duly Noted

I'm currently on my flight back home to southern California after having the wonderful pleasure of watching my little brother graduate from college. The pride that I felt watching him accept his diploma was incredible.

The speaker at the ceremony was first lady Michelle Obama. Now, politics are far from my forte and generally speaking I could really care less about the subject overall. That being said, I like Michelle; she is poised, well spoken, and delivered her speech with charm and a self-deprecation that made her more relatable than I would have thought. Her speech was fairly run of the mill and nothing to call home about but there was something that she said that stuck out to me. She said to be present in the lives of those whom you love.

What does it mean to be present? To be present in someone's life there needs to be legitimate effort and intention about spending quality time. It means that you are an active and essential role in those people's lives. It means that you show genuine interest and care about what is going on in their lives.

Reading what it means to be present is difficult for two reasons: 1) I see where I am notably dropping the ball in areas with some of my loved ones, and 2) it becomes glaringly obvious as to how present some people want to be in mine, which therein causes me to question, do they really care about me?

Let's face it people, communication is not what it used to be... "liking" my facebook status isn't being present but sadly that is what has become the norm.

The Beatles sang that "all you need is love," and while I disagree with that statement intrinsically, I do think that love is a powerful gift that is vastly underused or expressed. We like to say, "I love you" and feel that should be enough, but the Bible states that faith without deeds(actions) is dead...couldn't the same be said about love? I would argue that if your actions do not show love for someone, then you don't love them because if you did then it would be worth the time and the effort to show them.

Being present takes effort, yeah I know we're busy...but when we look back on our life, wouldn't it be nice to know that you loved those around you with everything you had, with no regrets?

I'm not gonna remember the times that you commented on my twitter status, or even that YouTube link that you posted on my wall... I'm gonna remember the times that someone took my call in the middle of the night, or when I ran out of gas and someone drove out to help me, or someone bringing me my favorite coffee just because... I could go on but I think you get the idea (if not we may need to address other issues with you than "being present").

Be present and let your actions be the truth that bring your words to life.

Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200 Dollars

Well, by the title of the post if you have not deduced I did not qualify for the marathon. I came in at a respectable 4:27 which I am happy with even tho I did not qualify. I could list off several reasons as to what went wrong and why it's not MY fault that I didn't qualify... but at the end of the day I didn't do it. I am so glad that I completed it tho and I am proud of myself for a new Marathon PR time.

One of my favorite parts of the day was getting to watch my friend (and training client) run across the finish line. I am sooo proud of her and she is a certified badass.

I know that one day I will qualify for Boston because I now have faith (well a little bit) in myself and my abilities and believe that I will be able to improve upon this by using it as a learning experience. However, that marathon will not be anytime soon... I need to fully forget how terrible running a consecutive 26.2 miles is... :)

The Road to Boston Part IV: GAME DAY

It is approximately 10 am as I begin to write this and if all goes according to my plan then I will be done with my marathon this time tomorrow. I take a drink of my coffee and then deeply exhale as relief washes over me that this will soon be over.

The journey to get here has been exhausting, both mentally and physically. There has certainly been athletic growth that has taken place; I’m no elite runner by any means, but I am faster than I have ever been and I am proud of that. There has also been a lot of mental and emotional growth for me throughout this process.

Qualifying for Boston was one of those dreams that you say without really thinking… or you say it and hope that no one hears you or remembers that you said it. For me it has always been an intangible dream that I never really thought that I could accomplish. I am often crippled by my less than average self esteem and because of it I am constantly held back. I have these moments of self confidence and then my doubts and insecurities creep up on me and devour those fleeting thoughts before I can really grasp them as truth.

Right now, in these final hours of preparation, I believe in my heavenly Father, who I know gave me the ability to do this, I believe in my friend’s judgment that I am capable of completing this, and I believe in my training. I trained hard. Yes, there were things I could have done much better, but I believe that I am properly trained to undergo this task. So tomorrow morning, when I am at mile 22 and hitting that wall, I will be able to rest (metaphorically speaking) in these beliefs and will know that I can do it.

If I don’t qualify, I will be disappointed… I think that’s normal and that anyone would be. However, for me at this point it’s about the journey… I have never pushed myself so hard to accomplish something, and at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter, because even if right now it’s just a small voice, there is a whisper in my heart that says, “I can do it.”

Normally I don’t name people by their real names in the blog but today I am going to. These people have stuck by me thru training sessions, thru tears, thru gripes and complaints and have offered countless words of advice, support, and encouragement over this time. Ryan and Jeremy: my coaches who always believe in me and push me well beyond my limits, but more importantly they are also my dear friends who patiently listened about my fears and concerns and helped me see past them. Shanna, Brandon, Emily, Heidi, and Christine: my cheer squad… you all have been soooo supportive and I knew just where to go whenever I needed a pick me up! I count you all as some of my closest friends and I love you so much! Adam and Chuck: my brothers from another mother… I couldn’t have done this without you guys and am so thankful that you’ll both be there on race day to root me on. I love you guys!!! There have been so many other friends who have rooted me on but listing EVERYONE would take forever, but your encouragement is not overlooked and I am very thankful for every single person.

Well… wish me luck… here goes nothing…

Just Breathe

Lessons from Houston

I just had the pleasure of visiting the great city of Houston for the first time. The city itself is eclectic; offering many different vibes as you travel throughout the city. I am fairly certain that learning to navigate this city would be incredibly challenging for me; living on the coast has killed my sense of direction, or what little of it I had, and adding traveling East and West and not just North and South was quite confusing. The best part (and reason for) the trip was getting to spend time with a very good friend and his beautiful (inside AND out!) fiance (whom I also consider a very good friend). You don't always expect to learn a lot from a weekend away but I certainly did this time...

1. Always wear bug protection: the mosquitos are fierce and do not take no for an answer
2. Stay with people who have the best anti-itch cream from Mexico (thanks Jessie!!!)
3. Pack 5 inch platform heels to avoid being referred to as half a person
4. Do not run away from the household dog around the kitchen island, it will most likely result in a toe injury
5. Liam Neeson is a Grade A Bad-Ass
6. Pack only clothes with elastic and spandex, you are going to do some serious eating
7. Coors Light doubles as water fairly well
8. Crawfish are good pets
9. Don't forget chocolate treats in the refrigerator

10. Good friends are always the best medicine

Post crawfish, Bar-lympia, and crushing about 10 pitchers of Coors Light and we still look good...

The Road to Boston: Part III, Five Weeks…

Ugh five weeks… as each week goes by I feel the knot in my stomach grow and twist simultaneously. Part of me is eager for the race to be here merely so I can get it over with and have it behind me, but the other part of me insecurely whispers, “Am I ready?”

The truth is I have no doubt that I will finish, and if finishing was my only goal then I would happily run the race tomorrow. Qualifying for the Boston is an ambitious goal and I’m not entirely sure that I prepped properly for it. While I took my training seriously, I found myself easily side-tracked and swapping runs for other types of workouts.  Running has become an inane chore that I cannot wait to be free of for quite some time.

The stress and pressure of qualifying weigh heavily on me, and being a perfectionist to the core, my drive to not fail is both motivating and crippling. It is motivating because on the days where I just want to quit the mantra, “Champions don’t quit,” plays repeatedly in my mind. However, the stress cripples me greatly as it affects my sleep, my eating, and my energy levels. I feel like my mind is self-sabotaging itself and as the will to succeed and the fear of failure battle, my resolve is weakened.

The ability to succeed lies heavily ones belief in themselves and their capabilities. Unfortunately I am greatly lacking in this… my confidence in myself is limited and my self-esteem has suffered greatly for many years. So while I am typically I very positive and strong person, when it comes to doubting myself and my capacity to perform and do things well, it is too easy for me to say, “I’m not good enough.”

A good friend, may he rest in peace, told me a long time ago that I had lion eyes; it was one of the first things he said to me upon our meeting. After getting to know me a bit more, he told me, “You don’t just have lion eyes… you have the heart of a lion… you’re basically a lioness.” I just laughed, but on the inside, loved the thought of being compared to such a magnificent creature.

I have had others say similar things to me since, and I have realized that until I have the faith in myself that others do, I need to make my best effort to see myself the way that others see me… like a lion.

The Road to Boston: Part II, Narrowing the Focus

It is now 8 weeks till race day. I am starting to take myself a little more seriously as it rapidly approaches.  My training, which is already quite strict, will get even more so, and my diet will become a discipline, where 95% of all things that I take in throughout the week will benefit me (this includes my wine intake unfortunately…). My life will somewhat be monopolized by my upcoming race, and as I focus on it, my decision making process will come down to a simple question, “Will this help me reach my goal?”
I find that narrowing focus in life in general can be helpful. With any goal that you have in mind, you can ask yourself that question and see if it is helping you, or being detrimental to your success.

Today I had a terrible day. I woke up in a sweaty panic, and immediately stood from the couch, trying to wipe the nightmares from my mind by pretending they didn’t happen. But they remained with me. I drove into work and as I was crossing the street to my building I slightly twisted my ankle, which immediately caused me to worry and frustrated me greatly, to get hurt now after all this training would be very disheartening. I went in to work where my boss pulled me into a meeting and told me that I was not prioritizing appropriately and then proceeded to give me a deadline for a project which will be nearly impossible to meet. I took a deep breath and began to work, but then, as if forgetting the meeting and deadline she had just set before me, continued to send me numerous projects which made it impossible for me to even begin on the original project. My cell phone vibrated and I welcomed the reprieve of a short break to check my messages. It was a facebook message from someone who I had not heard from in a long while, but they seemed to think that I needed to hear their two cents on my life, where it was headed, and everything that I am doing wrong. Already feeling close to tears at this point, I frantically blinked back the ones that were now forcefully brimming. To feel judgment on your life is hard, but to feel misunderstood on the judgments that they are making feels almost worse.  Unfortunately, I had, and have, no desire to correct this person, and they can go on thinking of me as they would like, and whereas it hurts me greatly to be misjudged and to have my character called into question, to reopen the lines of communication would be far more damaging. After this I plowed into my work, wanting only to get lost and be preoccupied. After a few hours I stood up and stretched and as I stretched I looked down and out of the corner of my eye caught the sight of a dark spot on my chair. I looked down closer and to my horror, realized that the crimson tide had come early (sorry for the male readers…). I immediately spun around so that my back was to my cubicle wall. I reached around and pulled at the back of my black and WHITE dress… there was a blood stain square on the back of it, about the size of my hand. There was no controlling the tears at this point, they silently spilled over and I felt everything that had happened that day was right on my dress… I felt stained and dirty, gross and embarrassed. Luckily, I had worn my long coat so I shrugged it on and walked into the bathroom. I removed my dress and put on my coat, buttoning it up and feeling like flasher. As I began to wash my dress in the sink the tears freely ran down my cheeks, obviously I was not crying just over my dress, but the day was still young (this was right around noon) and I wanted nothing more than the day to be over. That was when I had my first “narrow your focus moment of the day”. Solve one problem at a time Holly, I told myself.  I completed washing my dress and thankfully was able to scrub out the stain (thank you lycra/poly blend material). So I now had a clean wet dress… wearing only my coat, but going with my mantra of solving one problem at a time, I merely went back to my desk, draped the wet portion of my dress over my fan and turned it on.

I then opened my facebook account read the message one more time and then deleted it. There was no reason to keep it on file. I knew that if I did I would keep coming back and re-reading it, analyzing the details, and hashing it over and over again in my mind. I set my phone down and tried to push the lingering thoughts out of my mind.

As the day continued on whenever I would feel overwhelmed or frustrated by something, I just broke it down and solved it the quickest and easiest way. However, the stress of the day wore me out mentally and that night while I was training with my trainer I hit the worst mental block and could barely finish the workout. I went home and cried… my poor sweet kitties cuddled with me as my tears soaked their fur. The ever present rational side of my brain nudged me in the right direction… narrow your focus it reminded me… I turned on worship music, wrote in my journal, and prayed… which for me is the trifecta of narrowing my focus. It brings everything back to what is important… God… who He is, what He stands for, and why He created me.

Once you narrow your focus to that, the daily nuances fade away and while drawing on his never ending love for strength, you are able to set your sights to tomorrow, and can rest easy in His promises.

Goodnight bad day… tomorrow is going to be better… wait and see.

The Road to Boston: Part I

Deciding to really go for one of your life goals is invigorating, challenging, frightening, and fulfilling… at least that is what it has felt like for me as I signed up for the San Diego Rock n’ Roll Marathon.

I started running when I was 16 and, while yes, there are days that I hate it and every step is a challenge, most days my run is where I find solace, peace, strength, and courage. It’s where my greatest competitor is my mind, and the battle is between my body and my will. The road never judges me, and with every stride I feel stress and tension leaving my body.  Once I find that cadence, my stride flows naturally with the thrumming bass and my mind wanders. I fell in love with running and the freedom that I feel from it.

I started doing 5 and 10k races recreationally but it wasn’t until a friend was going to do a marathon that I realized how badly I wanted to do it. In 2005 I began to train but before I signed up I injured my knee slightly and decided that it was not the right time. Then in 2007 another friend urged me to run the San Diego Rock n’ Roll Marathon with her and I decided to do it. I completed the marathon in around 5 hours and tho my body ached all over, I knew that I couldn’t wait to do another one.

The Boston Marathon is a landmark for competitive runners and it wasn’t long after I completed my marathon that I had my sights set on qualifying for the race. Timing and personal reasons pushed off the race again and again, and finally I decided that 2012 was the year that I would aim to qualify. How the Boston Marathon works is that there are certain races which serve as qualifiers, so if you complete the qualifying race in a certain time for your age and gender bracket then you are allowed to sign up for Boston.

This may sound silly, but it’s not so much important to me to actually RUN in the Boston but to say that I could sign up if I wanted to would be a huge accomplishment. My qualifying race is on June 3^rd and I have a goal time of finishing in 3 ½ hours; that’s maintaining about an 8 minute mile for 26.2 miles.

My training schedule is arduous and when I’m not working or sleeping, chances are I am in the gym. My progress is slow but it has been improving and I feel confident that if I remain disciplined that I will achieve my goal.

A little over a week ago I did not feel that way. I realized that I had been slacking off perpetually in my training, making excuses and just not pushing myself do to well. A friend asked me why I wasn’t hitting it as hard as I should be, and I realized that it was because I was afraid of failing. My strange mentality was that if I didn’t train as hard and then didn’t qualify I could say that it wasn’t my best effort and therein have an excuse for not reaching my goal. I felt like such a coward when I realized this, but have made the mental shift that I am going to give it my all, and if I train my hardest and still don’t qualify, then at least I tried. Reaching for your dreams can be intimidating, but you will never achieve them if you don’t reach for them.

I have since wondered how much of this mentality leaks into my everyday life… how afraid of failing am I? Is it keeping me from my hopes and dreams? Fear can stifle your life and cause you to take the easy road, which may feel good at the time, but how less fulfilled then is your life? How much are you missing out on?

My friend later sent me this quote by Beverly Sills: “You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don’t try.”

Being doomed is not on the menu, in any area of my life. Don’t let it be on yours either.

Thanksgiving

As I sat at the dinner table today and looked around at the people who surrounded me I knew I was blessed. This was my first Thanksgiving where I was not with any family members...well by blood... which by the way... I don't like saying people are related "by blood"... it just sounds creepy. Anyhow... I digress...

When I moved down to Southern California I knew that I was leaving behind my wonderful family and friends and did not know what I would find in my new home. Had I known the people who would quickly become my "SoCal Family" I would have never hesitated. I never knew why God brought me to southern California, but if it was only to meet this wonderful family, it would be enough.

They have taught me more about life, love, God, and friendship and to them I am eternally thankful. That being said... I am obviously very thankful for them. However... as this IS the day of thanks... I feel like it would be unfair to neglect some of the other things I am thankful for... I am going to skip over the more obvious items and get down to the odious ones... I shall keep the list to 10 items so as to not ramble.

1.) Pumpkin pie - yeah maybe cliche considering the holiday but it is SO delish
2.) Laughing so hard that something comes out your nose - yes it hurts, but it is so worth it
3.) Football - is there really anything better than napping on the couch while watching football... don't bother answering because the answer is always NO
4.) Sneezing - not the gross snotty kind, but just the little ones that feel so good to get out
5.) Chai Lattes - but only if they give me the hiccups...otherwise I am NOT thankful for them
6.) Hot Showers - this needs no explanation... OR if you feel like you need one take a cold shower and then tell me you aren't thankful for hot showers
7.) Colored Pens - somehow writing in different colored ink makes work more fun
8.) Games - pure fun... if you don't like games then we really aren't compatible
9.) Naps - you're welcome
10.) Long Hugs - good for any mood, you always feel better after a good hug...unless they have BO... maybe make sure that personal hygiene is in tact prior to the hug

Be thankful... be happy...seriously... laugh... it's good for you

Reminded

A week ago I decided to spend some time at my local Starbucks, taking in some good people watching while reading and writing. There was a homeless woman sitting at a table not too far from me and I noticed that she would take a small doll out of her pocket and talk to it. Granted, I do not know the real reason for this, but as I watched her speak fervently I felt sad. I realized that small doll was probably her closest "friend" (if you will), and the closest thing to real companionship that she had.

Earlier this week I was sitting in my cubicle at work reviewing a document when I heard one of my coworkers on the phone talking about his recent bout with cancer and radiation. I had noticed that he had missed some work recently but never thought twice about it. My heart felt heavy as I recalled when Billy went through his cancer treatment and how difficult it was, and how my coworker had been carrying this burden with a quiet strength.

This morning after my spin class I was perusing the news feed on good ol' FB when I came across a post that saddened me deeply. A friend posted about her recent miscarriage and my heart was just breaking for her. The empathy I felt caused my eyes to well and I closed my eyes to say a prayer for her and her family. I was immediately transported to my own miscarriage(s) and felt that deep ache and loss that permeates down to and through your soul, where only the healing touch of the Father can offer any solace.

In all three scenarios I was immediately humbled and reminded that there is always so much going on below the surface. We all carry our own struggles and we all fight our own battles daily. I was also reminded of how thankful I should be... that I have such wonderful friends for companionship, that Billy fully recovered from cancer, and that while those miscarriages were very painful, that God always has a plan and is always in control.

A friend and I have been going through a hard time, and I recently said to that person, "Please remember the good times." After I wrote that I thought about it for a little bit. What did I mean by that and why did it matter to me? Well, maybe not so much what does it mean... I think (hope?) the meaning is pretty well self explanatory, but why was it important to me that they remember the good times? I think it was because I felt like the friendship would be lost without it... that after all was said and done that everything we had been through would be lost in a sea of anger and sadness. And while I still think that it is vital to remember the good times, I think it is foolish to forget the bad.

Is it not our mistakes that cause us to grow the most? Even in the example of my friend and me going through our struggles,  our friendship would not be able to grow in a healthy way if we ignored the bad and did not learn from our mistakes. If we never learned from our mistakes we would hurt ourselves and those around us perpetually.

Our past is comprised of bad and good memories... times of love and laughter... moments of anger, sadness and tears... instances of hurt and pain... and without all of these we would not be who we are. Learn from the hurt and pain, forgive the anger and sadness, and cherish the love and laughter. But never forget... always be reminded.

Memories are a window to our past, and help us walk through the doors of our future.

Life Goes On

Sometimes bad things happen.

Sometimes life doesn't go the way we would like it to.

Fortunately, this does not mean that life ceases... the world continues to turn and time ticks on... so the moments in which we feel fragile and broken pass and hopefully we take with the hard lessons the growth and wisdom that accompanies them. Heartache in this life in inevitable and the least we can do is learn from our circumstances and try and not make the same mistake twice.

I try to avoid learning hard way...unfortunately this is my current method. Insisting upon falling flat on my face and then looking around in bewilderment like, "What the poop just happened?" For those of you who snowboard, what I'm about to say will mean more to you than others... I feel like lately I have been catching my edge continually...getting violently tossed to the ground, wiping out in the worst way possible. After I shake it off, I unsteadily work my way to standing. Pushing through the pain I assess that while I might be pretty seriously bruised, there is no permanent damage.

I have just had a hard run and am currently riding the lift back to the top... what will happen? Will I find fresh powder and peacefully carve my way down the mountain? As one of my dear friends reminds me, we are the captain of our own ship (thanks puzzle piece) and therefore can sail into whatever waters we choose (bear with me as I know that I have switched metaphors at whiplash speed). I pray that I have the wisdom to choose the right waters, the right path, and at the end of the path find my safe harbor.

skinned knees
bleary eyes
wasted so much time believing senseless lies
not gonna waste tears on these goodbyes
get up get up
you're stronger than that
brush off those palms
no looking back
--Me

Fragile

I'm having one of those mornings where I'm acting like the grumpy little baby who didn't get enough sleep and has a poopy diaper. I am cranky and frustrated but I'll still smile and laugh if you distract me from my current state. Unfortunately, once that distraction is gone I find myself slipping back into a painful state of mind.

After waking sometime in the wee hours this morning from a bad dream, I sat on the floor of my apartment, Lizzie resting in my lap, and I prayed...and I prayed... and I cried... and I prayed some more. It is times like this that I hate myself... so weak and fragile. Shame and disgust cause more tears to spill over and I just hope that in some form I am growing, learning, or at least take steps in the right direction.

As I sat and prayed I knew God was with me... but that peace I normally feel never washed over me, and as dawn's light pressed in through the blinds, I knew I was in for a long day. I feel as tho I am high on a mountain top, standing on the tiniest precipice that should I falter in any direction but the right one, I am doomed.

Life has to change...I know this. If life was dormant would it be life at all? Not much of one; that is certain. During change footfalls feel indeterminate, and each step is a risk that you are just hoping leads you to where you are supposed to go.

I take a deep breathe and am thankful that God has given me the ability to release frustration through writing, and maybe that is why I didn't feel that peace till now. As I bring this to a close, I still recognize how fragile life is, but I hold onto the things in life that I treasure and value... love, hope, joy and laughter. Life would be empty without these for me.

Through the haze and the dust I am doing my best to find that sure-footing, and while the road is precarious, I know that I must continue to walk... because going back is not an option.

"Nothing compares
No worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes
They are memories made
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?"
-Adele