Flowing River's Blog

A Warm Fuzzy Moment

I have a confession to make, and no, I am not a cold-hearted bitch.  As a rule, I really get quite annoyed at all the people on the streets begging for money with their little homemade signs.  I have read too many articles about it all being fraud....and apparently a decent way to make money.  And I do know that there are exceptions to this....but unfortunately there is no way to really weed out the good and bad.  So I choose to assume that most of those folks are full-of-it.

Ahhhh, there are always exceptions to the rules...and I have found my exception.

The Exception comes in the form of an older black man, probably 5'7", about 150 pounds with a long gray beard.  Like most "median panhandlers", I knew he was there...because I saw him everyday on the same median on the same street intersection (the corner of Cone Blvd and Battleground Ave - for you Greensboro folks)...but he was just another annoyance. 

But one day this past summer I noticed a young lady standing there talking with him and I noticed that they seemed to be having a pleasant conversation...they both looked relaxed and he was smiling.

That's interesting.

I drove by an hour later, and they were still standing on the corner talking.

So I started taking notice. 

And each time I saw someone wave a bill at him, he would rush over with a huge grin on his face...and if the light hadn't changed yet, he would spend a couple of seconds saying something to them.

Huh!

Now, my kids know how I feel about these "homeless" people and they never ask to give anything to any of them.  But one day this summer, out of the blue, Andrew says, "Mom, I really want to give this man something."  So he grabs a dollar from my purse and waves him over.....the light had already changed so he just said, "Thank you God bless" with this sweet grin on his face.

We both felt it....I know we did.  It was really joyous to give him that one dollar, because he genuinely seemed to appreciate it.

Huh?

So, one morning I am driving to work, and I see a completely different man standing in the Exception's corner.  I instantly felt uneasy about it...and came to the conclusion that he must have been bullied out of his place. 

Damn him!

I was relieved to see the Exception there the following day, just like usual.  And I also happened to be stopped at the light right beside him.  So, I rolled down my window and asked him about it.  He said that he wasn't sure why the guy was there....and that he already had to pay the guy $15/day to let him sleep in his space.

Say what?

It took me a while to process but I finally did...the Exception had to rent out a place to sleep on the street every night.  Not only that, he had to pay another homeless guy to do it.  What happens when he can't make his rent?

Huge, huge paradigm_shift here people.

Fast forward to this morning.  I had a craving for a McDonald's biscuit that is right there on the Exception's street corner.  I ordered a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit and the lady tells me that they are on special and it is actually more expensive to buy 1 biscuit....so I get 2 and curse the stupid people who run McDonald's for being total food wasters.  And I know I'm just going to throw away the other biscuit.

That is until I pull out into the street and see the Exception....OF COURSE, I'm going to give him the other biscuit!  And the light had just turned red so we had a little time...I waved the bag in the air and he comes rushing over to me, with that sweet grin and say, "OOOOOHHHH , thank you so much!" and takes the bag just as a guy in the next car over waves him over for some money!  He is all smiles...and they chat for a second, like they know each other.

And I am seriously sitting there with this huge smile on my face.  The Exception opens the McD's bag peeks into it and looks at me with these HUGE eyes and mouths "thank you"....seriously, it was like I had given him the best Christmas present in his life.

He walks over to his "perch" sits on the curb, opens the wrapping, cradles the biscuit in his hands and just sinks his teeth into it with a look of pure joy on his face.  There was no one else around at that moment, he was just absorbed into this hot breakfast he was getting....and I watched him for as long as I could in the rear view mirror when I drove away.

My heart just grew a few sizes.

Everyone needs to nurture their inner child

Kickball in the Back Yard!!!!

This morning when I woke up I thought to myself, "You are absolutely crazy for signing up for kickball".  I nearly talked myself out of going thinking several things:

• I was going to embarrass myself
• I was going to be the oldest one there by like 20 years
• People were going to laugh at me
• No one was going to talk to me

THANK GOODNESS, I DIDN'T FEED INTO MY INSECURITIES!  Instead, I ended up holding my head up high and followed through on the commitment I made to myself and my teammates!  After all, the reasons I signed up for kickball were to widen my horizons, enlarge my circle of friends...and to try a new adventure.

It was a great afternoon at the YMCA!  I showed up...everyone was nice, talkative and brand new to recreational kickball (except one female player who has played before). 

When some of the players started making the kicking lineup and assigning positions...the low-esteem part of me thought they were going to all huddle up and talk about where they could stick me so I could do the least amount of damage....where the hell does all this negative crap come from?  Of course, that did not happen....I ended up kicking in the middle of the order and played 2nd base for most of the game...IT WAS SUCH A BLAST!

I ended up walking my first time "at kick" and got a hit (or kick?) on my second time up...I got tagged out going to 2nd.  It was a really big moment for me when I made it to first base.  VERY, VERY COOL and I almost talked myself out of going at all today.

Everyone on my team was relaxed.

Everyone did something to mess up. 

Everyone was encouraging.

And we decided to have practice this Wednesday. 

I can't wait.

"OMG! I really get to meet them!"

Ok, so if you follow me on Facebook, you know that my new obsession is the All-American Rejects(AAR).  What an awesome band!  It makes me laugh because, as a teenager, I went through a big period of being a "waver" (never mind if I have to explain it).  And apparently, I still have a knack, pull, attraction to music of the alternative nature....because itunes categorizes AAR's as alternative.

So, they have been around for a few years now, and I knew their music from the radio...but that's it.

I liked the songs they have out from this album....so I bought the whole thing.  Let me tell you what a treat it is! Wow! Those are some unbelievably talented guys....if you don't have their album you are missing out.  The thing that stands out to me the most about their music, is that each and every song sounds different.

So after I totally got into their music, I wanted to find out if they were on tour and if any dates were near me in North Carolina...and to do this I had to go to their website.  And therein lies the source of my obsession .  There is so much cool stuff on there about the band. 

Now, I am also very aware that part of the fascination stems from how much the internet has changed how fans interact with their favorite musicians.  I mean there is bio info posted, videos, pictures, blogs, and chats...you can even set up your own page and when you register, you get your own Rejects email address.  With all that information, it's hard not to feel like you know a little something about the people who make up this cool group of very talented musicians.  But my favorite feature on the site is Reject TV, which is essentially a video blog and it usually stars the lead singer, Tyson Ritter.  He is quite entertaining, to say the least...I have included a couple of examples...both funny and inspiring.

Next up, I joined their fan club...and while I was filling out the on-line form, I kept laughing about how love-sick-teenage-girl I was being.  Feeling all giddy and excited to be in that elite club of groupies.  But there are privileges that come with joining:  I get a pass which allows me into their Meet and Greets at concerts! SWEET!  So my ass, along with my very willing accomplice, Andrew...is going to Myrtle Beach in November to meet the All-American Rejects!  AHHHHHHHHHHHH! (Insert screaming teenager here).

And if you think THAT is pathetic...you should have seen how over the moon I was when my package of Fan Club Goodies arrived on Friday....I got an AARMY t-shirt (Gosh you don't know what that stands for? Do I have to teach you everything? *eye rolls*..... All America Rejects Army...duh), a dog tag key chain, and two wrist bands....oh and least I forget my Meet and Greet pass with MY name on it. 

I can feel the jealousy oozing from your pores as you read this.

Dang, I am having so much fun with this.  I really don't care how juvenile I'm acting...it just feels good to be excited about something...although I swear I really am NOT going to scream when I see them in November...but I'm sure I'll have to have a few adult beverages in my system beforehand so I don't spew word vomit!

People "Get" Me

My mom and dad gave me this card for my birthday on August 23:

Daughter

I've always been proud of you.

Always.

Proud of your tender heart, your bright spirit, your way of living life.

I haven't said it nearly enough, but it's true...

Even today, I can't help getting a "that's my girl" feeling inside,

Thinking about the person you are, the things you've done, the way you give so much...

You're every bit as important to me now-

and every bit as wonderful-

as you were when you were little, and I will always love you.

Always.

 

Boy, did the tears flow!

and then a friend gave me a card that said:

You're one of those bright stars that spread light wherever they go.

And yet another wrote on my Facebook wall:

Hope your day is filled with the joy that you bring to so many of us!!

This birthday was one of my best ever.  Facebook has made it easy to tell people what is on your mind...and I was flooded with well-wishes.  It truly warmed my heart, because it touched something that is at the core of my being:

I just want to love and be loved.

I'm so filled with emotion right now that it is hard for me to organize my thoughts...I want to say everything right and in the correct order.  So let me start by doing a little reflection:

This time last year I was a broken woman from all the issues surrounding me and my family (see Revisiting_Hell).  I look back now and see just how incredibly far I have come.  Today I am still dealing with my food stuff....but overall I am one happy person.  I have overcome my sharp feelings of loneliness, I'm branching out and doing new stuff, like joining a kickball league...I'll report about that after my first game on Sunday (the closer it gets the more terrified I am becoming), I'm meeting more and more new people and I just signed up to do my first craft show in almost a year. Yeah, life is looking good right now.

But the thing I notice the most about myself is that I am feeling more and more comfortable with who I am.  Not just more comfortable....but happy with who I am.  I noticed recently that my self-talk has drastically changed into a more positive tone, I feel more confident in the decisions that I make and the things that I do.  I don't constantly think about what other people are thinking of me...it's not that I don't care, but it's just not that important.  I know that I am a good person, a great friend and I have a lot of good character traits...and if someone doesn't want to take the time to learn that about me...eh, it's their loss.

So, when my birthday rolled around this year, it was such an honor to see that most of my friends really do get who I am and what I'm about.  

Throughout my life, when people have told me I am emotional, it's almost always been pointed out as a fault.  But over the course of the year, I have really learned to embrace my emotional side.  Yes, I know I can be intense, especially when it comes to people and relationships....but when I'm feeling the love or the connection I'm making with someone...why do I need to hide it?  When was the last time someone said to you that you are special, or they enjoy your friendship or your company? How did you feel about it?  Didn't it bring you some happiness or did you wish that they hadn't shared that information with you?  I obviously can't answer that question from your point of view, but I know that it would bring me a room full of sunshine.

Yesterday, I had a really nice conversation with a new friend of mine.  We have had a few different occasions to talk, and each one has been a real delight...he's very easy and fun to talk with.  So, I told him exactly that, "I enjoy talking with you" or something like that in an email.  This morning I was thinking that maybe I don't know him well enough to say that to him....but WHY not?  It's a true feeling I have and why wouldn't I want to share that...and why wouldn't he want to hear it?  And me questioning my actions isn't just because he is a he (ok, maybe that has a little bit to do with it) but I think it deals with my fear of rejection.  So, I had to let my fears go...and you know what, if for some reason he doesn't like the fact that I enjoy our conversations....maybe I don't really want to be friends with him after all.  I can deal with that...

I felt the same twinge of insecurity the first time I told my girl Janet that I was glad we had become such good friends.  Janet and I went to high school together, but we only just met at Thanksgiving '08.  We became fast friends and one night while we were out, I had the overwhelming sense to just tell her what I was feeling....so I did.  For a split second, I was afraid that she would think that was a weird thing to say, or worse...she didn't feel the same.  But she just looked at me and said, "yeah, me too".  But instead of it being weird, it just brought us closer together. 

So what if we all  went around sharing random good thoughts we had about each other...it makes sense to me that everyone would just feel a little bit better and happier.

And that in a nutshell is what Paula Biggerstaff Salmon is all about.  Making the connections with people, with emotions, with LIFE.  I'm going to try everyday to live in a world that brings me happiness and sunshine and peace...because, damn-it, it feels good!

I Ain't Takin' Anymore Crap

WARNING: I am blowing off some steam here, so be prepared for some "adult language". If that offends you, then don't read this post.

I had an epiphany this week.

I don't have to sit around and let people treat me like a doormat.

Why did it take me so damn long to realize this?

I have always prided myself in being a sweet, loving, caring person.  And I still am that person.  But somewhere along the way I became a people pleas-er; meaning that I will do whatever necessary to "keep the peace".  I know it started at a very early age, because this is the only way I have ever known to be.

It was always easier to let myself suffer the feelings of hurt, betrayal, anger, or sadness than to just talk about it, deal with it or even go off on someone about it.  But it isn't actually easier because there is always a price to pay.  It's destructive to the relationship and to me.

So this week I had to do some people weeding and it feels so empowering to say to myself "I don't have to take this bullshit anymore!  I deserve to be treated with kindness and respect, just like I have treated them!"  But two "friends" who have been in my life over the last several months have consistently shown that they really don't give a rats ass about me or my feelings.

The two don't know each other, but collectively they have been inconsiderate, by not showing up for dates that we have made, they have toyed with my emotions by saying one thing to me about what a special friend I am and how much I mean to them...however actions clearly speak louder than words.

But me, serving as the lovely and naive doormat that I allowed myself to be, just kept letting "I'm sorry" be enough.  I'm sorry I didn't show up, I'm sorry I didn't call, I'm sorry I just sent you a string of horrible, degrading texts...I wasn't myself, I'm sorry I asked you to lie for me so I wouldn't get in trouble.

As I'm typing this stuff out and actually seeing it on paper....I'm disgusted with myself. 

I am so honored, blessed, whatever you want to call it, to have lots of meaningful friendships in my life.  And these friendships are possible because I so freely make myself available to others and they, in turn, do the same in varying degrees.  It brings me joy to learn and grow and connect with people.  And I think most everyone wants to feel connected to others.  We all have something to learn and something to share if we just take the time to connect.

For too long now, I have let my generosity get in the way of letting go of unhealthy relationships.  But not anymore...I'm done with it.  There are far too many friends out there who are more than willing to be decent and kind right back to me.  I'm not going to bother with self-serving jerks who are just trying to get an ego boost.

You can go fuck yourself!

Wow! Did I really just say that!

Yeah, it's about time you went off on someone....

Sometimes, you just gotta let it out!

Dealing with Loneliness (Lessons in Healing the Fat Girl)

                 Sometimes, I just get the feeling to write.  I don’t have anything “pressing” on my mind or heart.  It’s just a feeling I get…that there is something I need to say, or more than likely, something I need to fully feel.

                This is a good time in my life.  I’m taking the time to find out who I am.  So far I like what I am, partly because I’m doing the things I need to do in order to get rid of the things I don’t like about myself.  One of things I am working on is moving away from the unhealthy people in my life.  It’s a hard hard thing to do.  Much harder than I anticipated.  Especially when the one person I need to let go of is someone who I desperately want to be in my life.  But I have made a commitment to love myself, and I can’t do it with him hanging around.  He’s a wonderful person, we have so very much in common, I can be myself with him and that just makes our connection even stronger…but it’s not the right time.  We both know it and we both struggle with it…and I have to let go.  I have cried about it, accepted it, and then I hear from him again.  It starts the whole process over again...but thankfully this time, I’m not in my emotions as much.

This isn’t good for me, especially when the biggest struggle I am dealing with at the moment is loneliness.  So I have to constantly remind myself that there are other people out there who are healthy for me.  And, one day he may be good for me.  If one day is the right time for us…I hope fate will bring us back into each other’s lives.  So for now, I’m on a quest to find the answer to dealing with being by myself.

The feelings of loneliness for me are quite surprising.  I am an only child, so being alone has never been much of a problem before; it’s just been part of my life.  And while I was married, I cherished the times I had by myself, especially if I had the house to alone.  Never before have I struggled with how to occupy my time because I was happy to choose from the list of things that brought me joy, like movies, shopping and my crafts.  But now it is different.

And it’s not about me not having friends.  It’s more of a feeling of needing the fuel that people bring me.  Of course the reality is that friends aren’t going to be available during all my free time, especially because my free time is so erratic.  So I need to deal with that loneliness in ways that are good for me (ie…not stress eating about it).   Here are some things I have discovered that work for me in varying degrees:

·         Walking.  I have said several times in my writings that walking helps me organize and clear up my thoughts.  

·         Reading fiction.  I’m definitely a fiction girl because nonfiction weighs down my mind with the burdens and problems of real life.  Fiction, although it can be realistic, helps me to escape my world and enjoy another.

·         Meditation.  There actually are times I like to be by myself, especially right this minute…because I am basking in the wonders of nature.  Surrounded by the one thing that always brings me calm and happiness…water.  My water of choice at the moment is a wonderful brook that is filled with rocks which make a beautiful sound as the water flows down stream.

·         Online chatting.  Okay hear me out before you make the same judgment I made about myself.  This is not me meeting some freaky online people waiting to butcher me.  I was really lonely and upset one afternoon…knowing that I was going to have to fill the whole day with something to keep me occupied and sane.  So I went to an online chat room about hobbies and crafts.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but felt there wasn’t much to lose.  It ended up being a surprisingly wonderful time…and there weren’t a bunch of crazies on there (although the crazies can be fun also).  I found lots of people who wanted to talk about things that I love, it occupied a huge chunk of my day, and it curbed my need for connecting with people.  It also ended up that we didn’t just chat about crafts, often times conversation turned to other things as well, like opening up to others about things going on in our lives.  It was pretty darn fascinating.

·         Playing my guitar.  Learning the guitar is something I always wanted to do…so about 2 months ago I signed up for a lesson.  It’s been great.  And this week I have made a goal of learning how to play my first song, “Scarborough Fair” by Simon and Garfunkel.  I think once I can actually play songs, it will bring the excitement level up a notch.

I can do this.  It’s part of the process of being a 40 year old single mom.  I just need to give myself permission to deal with things as I go.  And understanding what I need and what brings me joy…will keep me in a happy place so that one day, when the time is right, I can have a healthy love relationship with someone else.  Until then, I’ll do the work.

There is Happiness

I have been writing about some pretty deep and serious issues lately, so I decided to write a "stream of consciousness" post.  It's easiest to write based on my mood and I was certainly feeling very low during my last post.  Today I am filled with happiness.

Freedom in God

I have been attending this wonderful book group at my church, "The Sanctuary".  And although we have read some terrific books, I have learned that the books we read are not nearly as important as the conversations we have and the connections we make to each other.  This is a safe place.  A place where my brokenness is welcomed because we are all broken in some way.  And The Sanctuary is where I discovered my true identity in Christ....He just loves me.  That's it!  I don't have to be a certain way, I don't have to live a specific life to feel his love and acceptance.  I'm not bound by rules.  Rules I have spent my entire life trying to live up to.  I can just be me and He will NEVER love me any less!

There is no better freedom!

People

There just are not words to describe my feelings, my need, my happiness for people.  I get my energy from them.  As I have said before, right now I am content to mainly focus on friendship from the past and re-energizing that old connection.  Since making all those connections, I have learned a lot about myself.  It's easier to let go when I know I have the support of my friends.  There is more laughter, energy, openness, connectedness, and self-discovery with my friends.  And because of that,  everyday I feel more comfortable in my own skin.

Music

I'm in love, always have been, with music.  Nothing has more power to change my mood than music.  In the words of Debbie Gibson (cheesy, I know), "Music is the soundtrack of our lives".  And that just about sums it up folks.  I listen to the tunes while I'm creating my art, when I'm walking, when I'm at work and when I'm driving.  I especially love to turn on some 80's music, pump up the volume and have my own little dance party, all by myself.  It just drains all the stress out of me!  And lastly, my son and I can bond to music...which, in my book, is worth listening to any music he likes but I don't like.  Although, I am often surprised to like the same things he does....it makes me feel a little younger too. Music. Yeah, I like it...makes me happy!

Writing

It sooths the soul and heals my wounds when I need to deal with what's swimming in my head.  Writing turns my monsters and demons, which I easily build up into something un-tamable, into the bearded dragon my son used to have: a small lizard that has a scary name. And sometimes I can feel my emotions bubbling up in my chest, churning and yearning to let out steam that usually ends up displaying itself as tears; and while this is ok, turning, them into words and tears brings about faster clarity. And I also love to write for fun...I can whip some crazy stories!

Crafting

Ahhhh, just thinking about it brings me joy.  I love to make things.  I love the art of collecting things so I can make wonderful creations out of them.  I love color. I love patterns.  I want to mold them together to make beautiful things and make people smile.  It's the process of it all:

• Inspiration to create
• A pile of stuff....colorful, vibrant, moody, twirling things waiting to be molded
• A feeling, a direction
• Picking the colors and objects I want to use in order to make my art...it's the part I most adore.
• Forming the picture in my head
• Using my mind, hands and tools to make the dream come true
• Getting lost in myself as I work out of passion
• Admiring the work afterwords, knowing that I'm the one who made it

Adventure

It's all out there waiting for me.  I just have to give myself permission to try it...and not be so hard on myself.  As long as I am smart and don't do dangerous things...why not?  I'm going to do things I never thought I would do.  Not because they are bad, because they are out of my comfort zone and maybe I never considered doing them before.  I'm going to go on vacation, by myself.  I'm going to join a social singles group so I can meet more people...outside of my usual group.  I am taking guitar lessons...something I have always wanted to do. And I am going to do my hardest to love myself all the way through it, because in the end...it's all about self discovering who I am.

 

Revisiting Hell

So the last cry-fest day I had was April 3. 

They are getting farther apart.

Good.

Doesn't mean they get any easier.

Today has been a spiraling towards revisiting the hell I lived through for the last 10 years:

Codependency

Emotional Abuse

Depression

Anxiety

Bi-Polar

Eating Disorder

Anger

Loneliness

Joblessness

All of these are things my family has suffered through.

And I survived it, mostly intact.  I owe my sanity to my wonderful Jesus Christ, who held me tightly in His lap while sorrow and despair almost swallowed me.  He has never disappointed me when I have cried out in agony for him.

My mom and dad were my rocks, who took care of my children when I was just too overwhelmed to be a good mother to them.  Dad is my sounding board, the wall I lean on to stop from falling.  Without a doubt, I would not have made it without his unfailing love and support.

I want, more than anything, to the be the happy person I KNOW I can be.  I have had glimpses of her.  I love her and everyday I strive to be her.  I will be her.

But today she is a stranger.  So far out of reach, I mourn for her, I mourn for me.

So much pain.   God, I feel it trying to strangle me.  I watch my son drowning in it too and there is nothing I can do.

This morning, as he told me all his tears were gone, we embraced each other as though there was nothing else.  He declared his love for me over and over as if trying to convince me not to leave.  I think that if I really could die of a broken heart, it would have been at that moment.

Thankfully, my mom and dad rescued us again and swept him off for an early Memorial Day Weekend.  He will be happy. He will be safe. He will get to be the kid he should be this weekend.

All this pain just plants the seeds for other pains to resurface in me.

I have been eating today, trying to numb the hurt.  It only feeds the self-loathing.

I feel lonelier right now than I have in months.  I just want to cry, scream, wail in someones loving embrace and feel safe.

Today, I seriously feel like I can't take it anymore, but I will.  Not only is it my job as a mother but it's in my nature. 

I know that "happy me" does exist.  I will never give up until I find her...because I deserve happiness, love, support, and devotion.

Believing the Lies (Lessons in Healing the Fat Girl)

 Myrtle Beach, South Carolina 1989

Ah, Spring Break! The right of passage for every college student.

Fun, sun, booze, and all the unmentionables that go with it.

The sun is doing its best to cure the hangover I am now suffering from as I lounge face down in the sand with my sorority sisters.  I do hate being in a bathing suit, but gladly endure the uneasiness, because it allows me to stay in the emotional safety of my girls.

The beach is filled with blaring music and college students, of course.  It's early afternoon and there is a mixture between people already drinking the day away and those, like me, who are nursing their hangovers.  Co-eds are steadily walking by us, as we lay out near the natural pathway that leads to our hotel.

It's so relaxing simply to lay here, and I'm about to doze off as my mind is just barely aware of my surroundings:

"Wow, you're a fat bitch!"

I snap my eyes open and see a guy's legs standing right beside me, and then walk away.  I didn't have the courage to look up and see his face.  It didn't matter anyway. He had already said it and I knew it was true. (Well, not the bitch part, because I do like to consider myself a loving person.)

I lay there frozen in my panic and shame.  My face was on fire and I thought my heart was going to fly out of my chest.  I had to get out of there and out of my bathing suit. Who was I to think I should have been in one to begin with, when everyone else had these perfect bodies?

I grab my friend, Maria, whom I have known forever.  I can see the concern on her face as she senses my looming meltdown and I drag her into our room.  I'm desperate to feel her comforting understanding as tears spill over my eyes.

**********************************************************************************************************************

That is my most vivid memory of that Spring Break Trip of 1989.

Not the parties we went to. The people we saw. The things we did.

I mostly just remember letting this insignificant, random, drunk boy confirm who thought I was: A pathetic fatty.

And like most times in my life, I remember how much I weighed that day. And I wasn't fat. As a matter of fact, I might seriously consider sacrificing a body part to instantly weigh that much again.

I have a slew of these moments stored in my memory, to help me along in my self doubt.

Why is it so easy to believe the lies?

It's like living in a constant state of conflict, because I know there are wonderful qualities about me:

• I am a good and loyal friend
• I have a great personality
• I'm an easy conversationalist
• Character is important to me
• I am a talented artist
• I have a lot to offer those who are willing to get to know me for the person I am

Still, I constantly allow others to define who I am based on their ridiculous and superficial assessments of me.

But my skin is getting thicker.

I realized this when I recently found myself in the line of fire from a jealous ex-girlfriend who was definitely out for blood.  She somehow got access to my cell phone and would constantly harass me with horrible texts and voice mails (my cell phone company won't block numbers without a court order). This went on for four days and at first I was totally distraught with guilt and anxiety.

I wasn't upset because of something I had done wrong....my anxiety stemmed from the fact that this woman might actually hate my guts. Why should I care in the slightest what she thought of me? Yet, I completely gave this irrational woman the power to effect my mood and emotional well being.

And I dealt with it, head on, with a great deal of struggle and soul searching, because I was determined that I would not numb it away by eating.

I dealt with it by going on long walks accompanied by my ipod, I took long baths, wrote a bunch of pages in my journal and spent hours chatting with friends on facebook.  These activities may just seem like distractions, and to some degree they were, but they all gave me freedom to feel what I was feeling. I was able to process my thoughts, analyze them and accept them for what they were...emotions.

When the fourth day of insults started, I made a decision to stop reading the texts.  I was fine with doing this, but I got a glimpse of one of the texts and instantly felt the pit in my stomach grow.  The too familiar feelings of anxiety and guilt began to creep up.

But then, once again, I had a change in awareness:   the feelings faded away before they even got a chance to crush against my chest.  My mind shifted gears and I began to understand the pain this woman must be feeling to resort to the nastiness she was constantly throwing my way.  No person would stoop to this kind of behavior unless she thought there was no other option.

And so I found peace.  For this one situation. For this one time.  

I took the power back.

Healing the Fat Girl

I have been wanting to write this post for a month now, but I have been too scared. 

I had actually planned to start a brand new blog, with an anonymous name, so I could put my story out without worrying about who was judging me.  But I finally decided that my story is just my story...and those people who care about me will probably care about me even more after reading this and those who judge me for my faults, judged me long ago anyway.

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There is not one time in my life, that I can remember, when I didn't feel fat.

Not one.

Sure there were times when I wasn't feeling as fat. Like all the times I joined Weight Watchers and lost so many pounds, but I never made my goal weight. Not meeting my goal weight = being fat.  So of course it felt good to have the scales read lower instead of higher, but the bottom line was that I had failed yet again to get my eating under control.  Which propelled me to eventually run back to the comfort of food.

I can tell you how much I weighed in each of my high school years, when I graduated from high school, when I moved into my freshman year dorm room, when I lost 20 pounds during the summer between my sophomore and junior year in college, when I gained 10 pounds the next summer in Sweden. I can tell you how much I weighed at college graduation, when I got married, when I got pregnant with my kids, how much I weighed after I gave birth.  Every major event in my life, forever has a weight attached to it. One cannot be separated from the other.

And the desperately sad thing about the whole realization, is that up until about 1992, I wasn't fat. I wasted over 20 years of my life feeling hate, disgust, remorse, helplessness, hopelessness and out of control...over food. So I guess all the other years of self loathing have been justified?

I have tried everything to get thin: weight watchers, Adkins, medicine, a nutritionist, starving and even wanting to become bulimic, but couldn't make myself throw up.  So in 2004, I decided to have weight loss surgery and chose the Lap Band, a less risky surgery, knowing that I could always go the gastric bypass route if the Lap Band didn't work.  Two years later I had only lost 40 pounds, had some complications with the band and gained all but 18 pounds back.  At my last doctors visit, in the fall of 2008, he suggested I consider going with the gastric bypass surgery.

Devastation washed over me. 80% of patience are successful with my surgery, but I somehow found a way to keep eating, eating and eating.

    You are just a failure.

    I know I am.

    Food owns you. It's never going to stop.

    I know.

I decided to give myself a year, to get my head right and deal with this.  I didn't want to have to subject myself to another round of failures with a whole new set of risk factors.  Bypass surgery was way more intense than Lap Band surgery... it would be a huge decision.

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It's been about 8 months since that last doctors visit and my world is completely and absolutely different now.  My husband and I are now separated, the house as been put of for sale after I spent months going through 11 years of household clutter, I have reconnected with many, many friends that I had long ago lost touch with and I found a new church home that I connect with deeply.  Most of these things have been positive moves in the right direction...but the best gift I gave myself was going back to therapy.

 I have been to counseling before, and it always helped to some degree, but it was just never....complete.

I decided to go back to Cathy, the psychologist I had seen right after my weight loss surgery. I didn't want to talk about food, but I remember feeling a connection with her.  And the commitment I made to myself was to be completely and totally honest about everything with her.  I knew I had to do this if I was going to get better and deal with all the issues I had in my life....and I have a list of them.

For the first month...therapy was easy.  We talked about how to deal with my ex, how to help my kids through this difficult time and things I needed to do to build healthy boundaries in all my relationships.  I was making great progress and feeling good.  Then came a pivotal session in March when Cathy reached right to the core of my deepest pain:

Cathy:  So what are your weight loss and exercise goals?

Paula:    I don't have any and I'm not going to.

C: Why not?

P: Because it's never worked before and I'm tired of dealing with it.

And I'm a loser because of it and I always will be. Okay, don't start crying. Cathy will see that you are hurting and ask you more about it.

C: Tell me what you are feeling. I see the emotion in your face.

Damn it Paula! you slipped. Now you have to say it. You promised. Remember? Tell her everything.

But I've never said it out loud. Well then, maybe it's time to.

Tears, tears and more tears. 

I can barely speak the words because it all hurts too bad.  Words that have been sitting, rotting, burning my soul for so long that I didn't know they existed.  But I had come this far, and I wanted to get better.

P: No one is going to love me because I'm fat.

Those 10 words had held onto me, leeched onto me.....they DEFINED me for as long as I can remember !

C: Oh Paula

Words spoken with such tenderness.

Cathy let me cry for a few more moments.

C: Don't you see how distorted of a view that is about yourself? You have an eating disorder, you can't see things clearly.

Her words soothed over me with a calmness I hadn't felt in years.  She understood, she didn't think I was crazy for what I had just said.

We talked about what I was feeling for what time remained in the session.  And on my way back to the car, I somehow felt lighter.  I could breathe easier, my head didn't feel the normal pressure that had somehow become comfortable and the burning in my soul was not as hot.

I spent the next three days crying. 

They weren't tears of pain. They were tears of cleansing, of letting go of all the hate I had stored away in that burning fire.  It felt so good to let go.  I welcomed the crying because there was a realization that every single tear I shed brought me closer to "healing the fat girl".

And something else changed as well. I stopped eating.  Not altogether, of course, but I stopped eating when I wasn't hungry.  It went unnoticed at first, but I slowly observed that I was only eating when my stomach growled.  And my stomach only growls when I'm not obsessing about food; otherwise, it never gets an opportunity to actually get empty enough to call attention to itself.

Wait.

What happened to the cravings, the snacks, the sweets you so loved and thought constantly about?

I don't know...I haven't been thinking about it.

What do you mean, "You haven't been thinking about food"? You always think about it.

Maybe I don't need it anymore.

 

Paula, this is big.

I know...I might be getting better.

I think you are right.

How do you feel?

I feel really, really hopeful.  Like I never have before.

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I have lost 20 pounds since that day.

In 2 months I have lost 20 pounds.  I am still in shock thinking about it.  And the unbelievable part of the whole thing is that I'm not even trying. Not even remotely.

I eat what I want, but only when I'm hungry. And I stop eating when I'm not hungry anymore. I don't crave anything. And on the rare occasion that I do want something to munch on, say, a cookie...I can eat one cookie and be completely satisfied without going into an all out frenzy for more and more to eat. 

And my relationship with food is not the only thing that has changed. Everyday I learn more about me and everyday I love more about me.  These revelations and learnings about who I am are the things I will  continue to write about. Because writing about it helps me to absorb it and maybe someone else out there, who also struggles with food, can learn to love themselves too.

    

Sometimes Just for a Season

    I have just learned a tough lesson...sometimes friends are only for a season and no amount of forcing that to change will result in that person becoming a friend for life.

    I have been so consumed over the last six months in finding long lost friends. I have really enjoyed myself because it satiates my hunger for research and meaningful friendships.  I'm also going through a divorce and some major soul searching. Finding renewed happiness in already formed friendships that just needed re-energizing has been so good for my healing. I get happy just thinking about it.

    I hadn't talked to "Z" (I'm trying to keep some privacy here) in over 16 years, I was excited to finally track Z down.  Ends up, Z lives in Greensboro too and I just knew we were going to spend some time together and have fun! I have really enjoyed going back out on weekends and talking to whomever I want, whenever I want!  And although I haven't branched out too much in the "meeting new people" aspect of my life, I have loved every minute of grouping up with old friends.  There are actually quite of few of us that are single and living in Greensboro.

    The first time Z and I saw each other, we slid right back into that old friendship.  We didn't waste much time on small talk, we immediately dove into the meat of the last years we had not been in touch.  It was easy to talk about the happiness in our lives but also the sad things.  I felt connected.

    But over the last month, it has become clear that our friendship can't be a good thing.  It hurts because my brain's database on Z has a file of good memories from years ago.  I have had to let that database go into storage and start a new one on Z.  We are just both in different worlds and places in our lives. Friendships are supposed to be easy and loving and supportive.  And if you do end up hurting each other - you say your sorry, work it out and start where you left off.

    I have to let Z go.  I spent a few days mourning it and now I am fine about it; choosing to remember Z as I knew us to be before.  When being friends was easy.

    So the old saying that goes, "Our friends are with us for a reason, a season or for life" is true. Z and I were friends for a season, many years ago, and I will just be happy for that time together!