Asshole, the Ninja Cat

No, that’s not really her name but whenever she bites me and I am not expecting it, I admit, I usually call her Asshole. I love this cat. I hate this cat. I will be devastated when her time comes and she leaves for Rainbow Bridge someday. For the very first time yesterday, I gave her oral medication before a visit to the vet. My little cat friend is closing in on being an ancient beast of fifteen. She needed some dental attention and is too old to put under anesthesia. I stood in the exam room out of the way as the Vet scraped the plaque off my cat’s teeth. As my cat was under the influence of some pretty good tranquilizers she didn’t struggle much and I am told felt no pain. Well, I felt pained. There was blood. I didn’t expect to see blood. She has a loose tooth she will undoubtedly lose while eating. She has a cavity in another tooth and will have to return to the vet in a month to check for infection and to see what we will do to fix this situation, if it can be fixed. Pepper is a ninja. In all the years I have owned her she has never once let me clip her nails or brush her teeth. She has amazing reflexes. I am the one who ends up with damages, scratches, and bite marks. Any time I have attempted to do things she does not want she draws blood, mine.

I was a lost soul after my kid sister died. I hate the term passed away. She didn’t pass anything. She was involved in a car accident that claimed her life, like some Netherworld badass took her life in token, almost as if it held a winning lottery ticket from the other side of the veil. It has taken me a long time to sort of come to terms with my loss. Some days I am still painfully angry but Pepper, my cat, helps me find a space of peace and love.

She makes me get out of bed in the morning. She butts her head into my legs when she is in need of love and smoochies. She bites my feet through the blankets when I toss and turn too much and disrupt her sleep. She is the one who sits on my chest and gazes into my face until my unconscious self becomes aware. She is velvet soft. She purrs instantly if I rub her head or brush out her mane. She prefers human hairbrushes to cat combs. I have to keep mine away from her reach or she will claim it as her own.

My ninja cat is an oddity. She was weened too young (not my fault) her tummy cannot tolerate wet food. She likes to lick the salt off potato chips and will steal pretzels from you if you are not careful. She adores raisins. I know they are poisonous to cats. If I accidentally drop a raisin it becomes a race to see if I will be able to pick it up before she sweeps in with her ninja reflexes and consumes it. I don’t eat raisins in the house often…she is that fast. She adores fresh carrots, balsamic vinaigrette, and grilled chicken.  She loves the smell of my mint dental floss, so much so that I have to conceal it in the trash bin to keep her from taking it after I have discarded it or she will steal it to chew on as if it were her own. I can not wear any lip balm to bed containing peppermint oil. She will wait until I fall asleep and have a tasting binge of my face.

Her little soul has become part of my being. Talking to the vet yesterday I felt myself getting teary eyed. I see more clearly now that she is aging. Sometimes I have to pick her up to put her on the bed. She has slowed down some. After a long nap she favors one leg a little more than the others so she limps. Her hearing is not as acute as it once was. I can sneak up on her if she is in a deep sleep. She seeks me out more often for cuddles and wants to snuggle under blankets even when it is not cold. Love for a pet is a real thing. I love her more than I realized.

 

 

 

The Pain of Being Me

Some times I am not honest enough with myself; other times I am so honest I hurt my own feelings. I mean WTF? Imagine if I just let myself live in peace?!?!? Once again I find myself in a space I created, and an unsafe one at that. I am sure you have all heard the phrase ‘to paint oneself into a corner’.
beetlebailey Well, I am really good at doing that. Lately I have been getting to the end of my work day feeling exhausted, drained, and spent. I took a hiatus from trying to be healthy right around this time last year and well, just as you might think, I am fluffy. I am getting way to old to keep fighting with myself. The fight is over. No winner, just a draw. No rematch planned. I just can’t do this bugsbunny gif  to myself anymore.

I own all that is me. The things I have built into the legend that is me and the things that are just my sad truths. No more hiding, no more trying to conform. People will either  like me or not, their choice, not mine. Choose wisely. What is next for me? I really don’t know. I will continue to share things to my blog. I will continue to be a hot mess but from now on I am going to try my hardest to be less of a hot mess. I am picking up the pieces of my puzzle. I will keep trying to arrange them into some version of myself I can live comfortably with. I need to worry about my health before I find myself chasing after what I once took for granted.

I am watching old TV specials of Barbra Streisand as I free write (putting down what ever pops into my grey matter) this blog post. Somehow in the course of living I forgot how much I really love her voice. Perhaps there is still time in my life to SING because it makes me happy. Do you think that some people are just born with the talent to sing? I mean really sing without any voice lessons? Streisand helped me survive my teenage years. I would come home from school feeling friendless, angry, and ugly. I would turn up the volume on my mother’s Emerson stereo and sing every album I owned of hers. I would sing away all the hurt, disappointment, and uncertainty of school day. Her music would take me to a place of hope. Every note, every change in key, every breath carefully taken between key notes in the music or phrasing. My brain knows and can still reproduce every song even after all these years.  I still don’t need a pitch pipe.pitch pipe

 

A Fit About FIT

I guess my question to those who make dress clothes for “overweight nation’ is, why do you insist on multiple closures on a pair of pants that are countersunk or gathered? Isn’t it humiliating enough that often my clothes are of garish prints and horrible materials?

I am overweight. I am not void of style. You, dear clothing manufacturer just make it more difficult to express. I have struggled with finding the who that I am. I clearly, solidly identify as female but your clothing forces me to shop in mens clothing sometimes and I feel generic. While I am on the subject, what is it with all the size increments? I might be a 17 Junior or an 18 or a 18 Misses but more likely I could be an 18 Womans? and you wonder why females have body image issues!img_20181020_131256399-1932535022.jpg

Recently I have come to the decision that I miss being happy, truly happy. I am in my life everyday and yet there are things I keep missing like the joy of a sunny day, laughs with a good friend, taking a walk on a calm day, being okay with the person that I am at this moment. I just want peace in my life.

I have always been more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of a girl. Poet blouses and soft sweaters. I would love a new pair of cowgirl boots = ). I am going to go back to the version of myself I feel most comfortable with. I like who I am! I just didn’t believe in me. I let the pressures of trying to be someone and something I am not guide my choices.

It is never too late to chose happiness. Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To BE!

I would like to say thank you to all of the women in my life that accept me just as I am. I think that you are all amazing, beautiful, supportive, kind, generous…some times in life one can be surrounded by great people and not realize it. The true blessing is being smart enough to recognize your good fortune.

 

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Get Into The Groove

I feel like Stella. I need to find a way to get my groove back. Every day I find myself searching for something I lost along my way but what is it that I have lost? Well, my words for one. I used to be able to sit alone with my thoughts and bang out a blog post about how I was feeling, things I was experiencing, adventures I was having. I like to think that occasionally I made you laugh, cry, think, and maybe remember or appreciate the love you have been gifted with from the people in your life.

Life is in the doing. I guess I need to get back to the doing, going, pursuing, being in my life. I am saddened by the hatred I keep seeing in my feeds on social media. Fake news, fake people, fake lives. It distresses me. I have started to purge people from my lists that bring nothing to the table. No joy, no happiness, no laughter = (equals) no longer on my list of friends.  I am having a difficult enough time not losing my own happiness thread. I really don’t need people unhappy in their own circumstance dragging me into things I know nothing about that I want to know nothing about. I guess you can say I am being smart enough to come in from the rain.

I am not enjoying my journey into menopause. I think it is the most horrible gift the Creator ever bestowed on women. Don’t we suffer enough? I think I would have rather preferred to receive a telegram.

via WESTERN UNION

ATTENTION! stop NEWS FLASH! stop

You are far too old to pro create stop

You will no longer be visited on by FLO stop

Love, your Creator stop

But… we ladies all know that is not what happens. I have noticed that some days I am so warm I could probably dry wet laundry. I am not a small woman. I have only occasionally felt the ickyness of boob sweat, eww so gross, no seriously never before in my life have my boobs been so prone to sweat, yuck. I even thought about buying TaTa towels® but l lack the confidence to buy them online. Can I get someone to please tell me why I find everything so worthy of tears? I have never been a big crier. My forte has always been ANGER. Resting Bitch Face a daily exercise when faced with a situation I wanted no part of. Now, I find myself crying over, I am sorry to say it but it is true, spilt milk.

There are other troubling things though I have not seen them yet, I am warned that my beautiful hair will thin as my waist line expands. Since I am already overweight I hope this part does not come true. I like my hair the way it is, on my head, and I really want my waist line to thin down. I have been working on the latter for some 25 years now! I’d really hate for the struggle to be over before I am truly ready to give up and throw in the TaTa towel®

 

And So The Story Goes…

… Once upon a time in the Woo there lived a malcontent that went by the name of  Didi(disappointed damsel in distress). Okay, so maybe there are three Ds but did you really think I was going to call myself the girl with the Triple Ds? Not going to do it, nope.

I have had a very interesting July/August so far. I have made myself get out into the world for Saturday adventures with people in and around my life. It has RAINED every single trip. I must say that all of my companions have been great sports about the weird weather. The question is, what am I looking for? Why do I feel the need to chase peace? I am trying to have fun hitting some of my favorite spots with new people and exploring new places with companions I have adventured with before. Why does it feel like I am just going through the motions? When will I start to feel the wonder, the excitement, the rush of adrenaline from the unknown variables that make adventures enjoyable? Do you know the feeling I am talking about? It’s that child like awe of Christmas mornings, that intangible feeling of awesomeness from the things, the sights, the smells all around you.

It begins as it always does with the mere glimmer in my thoughts that I can do better, that I can be better. I am slowly returning to myself. I let myself get too caught up in the WWs mantra and lost me on the way. I am back on my journey. I am trying to make healthier food choices. I know what I am doing. I just have to believe I can do it. Hell, I have been doing this since I was in my 20s. I had zero confidence when I was younger. No belief in my own power. I felt at odds. There are no established rules about growing into the amazing person you are meant to be. It comes with self acceptance, friends that love you, people in your life who get you, and a glimmer of light that comes from your soul. Remember  just because you are able to recognize the beauty in others does not mean you are good at recognizing it in yourselves! I have always made the mistake that my beauty is less than someone else’s, which is an untruth. My beauty is uniquely mine.

I have truly been blessed and foolishly I have been wasting so much time feeling unworthy. Every time I embrace who I know I am, I am better. I do better. I believe in myself. It is my inability or my unwillingness to let go of my anger that harms me EVERY SINGLE TIME. I really need to break off from this toxic relationship. Yo, Anger it’s been real but you and me, we have to go our separate ways. I know you think you are protecting me but it’s a lie I like to trick myself into believing.

 

I face tomorrow with a renewed hope in myself. This time I will hold on so I can see what is on the other side of the rainbow. Never Give Up On The Person You Are meant To BE!

life-quote

Semi Colon ;

Please let me say this now, in no way do I mean to hurt anyone’s feelings or make light of your own personal struggles or mental health issues. This is my story. I just feel that if things don’t get said no one hears the dialog and things just stay the same.

I grew up with a parent who was disabled by her mental illness. I was teased by peers because my Mom was weird. Kids were often mean and let’s be honest didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand. I struggle with my own sense of worth because of how I was raised. It is a daily struggle for me to believe that people like me and in spite of myself it is true. The World right now is in an uproar about suicide and mental health but I am not sure the World really knows how fucking hard it is to let someone into your suffering. Everybody has the answer the day after. No one likes to be held at arms length to be judged. Some times that is the reoccurring theme of a person living with depression, judgement. Do you know how many times I have heard in my lifetime that my mother was faking her mental illness just for the attention.  The words of disbelief from people because they were under the false assumption that my mother had her shit together but was putting on a show.

If I concentrate and close my eyes I can still see my mother’s tear stained face. I can feel her anguish. I am unable to help. She doesn’t want to be sad but she doesn’t know how not to be. It is not about the things you have in your life. It is that you are in your life. You are convinced that everything would just be better if you went away. The number of times my mother threatened to abandon me by dying…has left me with scars that never quite heal. My pain is just below a brave façade I put out there for the people in my life. The face I want the world to see, not the person I really am. Every time I learn of another death caused by suicide I can’t help but wonder how long that soul fought with themselves, years? weeks? months? too afraid to ask for help? or too caught up in their own demon flow that they just felt they were not worth saving? Or???? Questions I cannot answer, haunt me. I am returned to my childhood; I struggle to regain {my sense of who I am}the ground I have fought so hard for all of my life. My nights are filled with terror and nightmares.

Everybody has the answer the day after. I stopped blogging for a few weeks because I needed to figure out where I was going. I had started to give away things I own. I have been obsessing about down sizing because I am getting older but I have been ANGRY, agitated, and feeling like I just wanted my ride to be over. I guess I didn’t realize how easy it was for me to slip into the abyss. How many times in my life did I stand frozen with fear watching my mother in the depths of her illness, in pain and anger and self loathing, struggling to find a reason to stay? I knew from an early age she had to find her own reasons to live, that we weren’t her reasons. I think sometimes that is why I feel like I am not enough. Children should never be responsible for an adults happiness and well-being.

Never under estimate the power of a smile or a kind word or a firm well meaning question. Someone in your life is out there trying to find a way to keep you in this life. Believe it. You are loved so much more than you give yourself credit for. You are strong in a way that makes your inner beauty shine. You are kind. You are wanted. You are everything to someone. You are ENOUGH. I love you. Everyone struggles. Everyone cries. You are not alone.

I have been having a difficult time finishing this piece. Menopause is no joke. I hate the person I am right now. Overly emotional, tired, and hateful. I am not this. I am better than this. Trying to come up with answers I could swallow, I made myself sick. I have been having a hard time trying to figure out where I am going. I took some time off from blogging to relax, breathe and reconnect with who I am and what I want for myself. Love is the greatest gift we can give. I LOVE YOU.

For more information about Project Semicolon please visit: https://projectsemicolon.com/

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant TO BE

 

 

Head Space

In the interest of better living I have decided to stop torturing myself with the world of WWs. I want other things in my head space, positive things. I find the longer I try to conform to the plan the more lost and depressed I become. This in no way means that I am quitting. Sometime in my future I may once again embrace the culture of WWs, I just need to find who I used to be. This has been quite the relationship but when something that has been good for you becomes something else, you have to be wise enough to take a step back and figure out if where you are headed is where you want to go.
I need to put my WWS experience away for safe keeping. I need to travel a different path for awhile. I am sorry WWs but from now on you’re only someone that I used to love.

The time has come in my journey for me to find where I let myself out on the side of the road. I learned food basics along time ago. In my quest toward ” solve for X” I put aside my truths in exchange for a dream that I built on wet cocktail napkins and cheap party tricks. Somewhere I convinced myself that if I could just fix my fat self  I would have more in my life. There’s in nothing wrong with what is in my life. I bought my own lie. I guess it’s true what they say (who ever “they” may be) that with age come wisdom. It is time I believe in my own power again, find what makes me happy…and today for the first time in more than six months I did.

Sometimes I lose faith in myself. I wander around lost in my head unable to tie my laces and finish the race. I find if I listen to my heart I usually find my way back.  Oh! Look! I am right where I left me = )  Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant TO BE!

Unwritten

All of my tries are outside the lines…The time has once again come for me to tweak my story. I get so caught up in “fixing” myself that I get lost. I am tired, almost out of good groceries to snack on AND if I am being completely honest with you, I want to be found. In spite of myself and all of the incorrect beliefs that I have lived most of my life by, I have all of the things I yearned for in my youth. I am loved. I am happily married to a great guy. I have friends that I care deeply for and likewise. I am gainfully employed. I live in a nice neighborhood in a house that is neither too large nor too small. I am a middle-aged woman. I am in the throes of Menopause. I am beautiful in a way that is more important than physical attractiveness. I am ENOUGH! I am tired of trying to live up to expectations I set for myself back in the days of my wild youth in the middle of teenage angst and acne. Those foolish expectations have proven to be unattainable time and time again. SO!?!

Why do I continue to make myself miserable? This weekend I looked through photos of my life. In most of these photos I am, well, I am as I am now semi-round. There is a discernible twinkle in my eye. Here lies the real me the one the naked eye cannot behold. In these pictures I see the loves of my life: my Mom, my Dad, my sisters, the rest of the members of my family who have passed on or moved too far away for me to keep in touch with, except through the modern miracle of social media. It is in the memories of these moments captured in technicolor that bring a smile to my soul not my dress size. I was loved anyway.

I am no longer interested in the pursuit of {insert impossible dream here} a foolish ideal that will make my life magically fall into place. I am not sure what will be in the next chapter of my life but I look forward to new pages everyday. Tomorrow is still unwritten .
Here’s to the next story of my life.

 

On My Way to You

I wasn’t overweight until I hit my teenage years. I was always taller and bigger than my two sisters. I am just under 5’8″. My sisters topped out at around 5’3. Of course I should weigh a little more I AM taller but when you are young and impressionable adults sometime say and do mean things. Growing up between two thin sisters was not an easy job. During my teen age years I felt at a disadvantage when it came to the opposite sex, partly because I could not compete with my own sisters ravishingly beautiful facades. Boys would some times ask me out on a date just so they could get near one of my sisters. Sad, but true and also confusing for a girl who was not quite sure of herself who walked around with dented self-esteem.

I did not date much during high school. I never thought I would be blessed enough to find a life partner, but HE changed all of that. I spent many years floundering through life trying to find my way. I helped my older sister care for her two small sons. I watched over my wild child kid sister. I spent a lot of time wanting to be wanted. Everyone in my life needed me but no one outside of my life wanted me. I felt like the ugly duckling from that childhood storybook.

ugly duckling

In time I sort of just gave up. I stopped waiting for “Mr. Right” and I started to live my life at least hoping that someday “Mr. You’re Better Than Being Alone” would be around for some harmless shits and giggles, no commitment, no real love, no expectations. HE spoiled everything. I had had my eye on him for some time. I liked the way he looked me in the eye when I talked to him. He read a book everyday during lunch. He was tall. He was quiet. He had the most amazing blue eyes…and I thought I ‘d never have a chance; but, he was flirting with me in the lunch line, he was going out of his way to get in my way, he was laughing at my poor attempts at humor.

I told my kid sister that I thought he might like me. I had no idea how to ask him out. I was suddenly nervous and shy. He asked me out to an arena football game (August 20, 1994). We have been together ever since. He sees me. He loves me. He wants me. He needs me. He is my Mr. Right. Because of him I have learned to KNOW commitment, to know real love, to know acceptance. I love you Big D. wpid-big-d-me-7-7-12.jpg.jpeg

What About Today?

I mean what about it? I am in any given day but rarely is about today. This day, the NOW. I am giving up on the things that just don’t make me happy. I am in the Autumn of my life. You know that crazy dozen or so years where we the older generation folks go through all of our worldly possessions and think, “Why the f*ck did I waste money on that? We relegate our life’s belongings into neat piles: donate, keep, BURN. I am saying good bye to my dreams for Tomorrow Land. A land that exists only in dreams where everything is shiny and perfect and? I am sure whatever you need it to be. The only day anyone ever has is today. Why have I been putting my whole life on hold waiting for a better tomorrow? I am never going to be… (the list is really super long so let’s just say that I am who I am )… and that’s okay. I am setting the balloon of expectations free to go haunt someone else with unrealistic goals ( good luck honey whoever you are ). It turns out those dreams were set in the false belief that I would never know profound love if I was not perfect. WRONG!

I am not going to keep being my own biggest disappointment. I am fluffy. I have been in various stages of fluffiness my entire life. I have spent endless vacations, birthdays, anniversaries, regular life days, banking holidays, you name it, raging over my inability to slim down so I might be lucky enough to be considered desirable as a person. Somehow being “perfect” might make it easier for people to love me or like me or want to be my friend or? What a waste of a perfectly good lifetime. Guess what? I am beautiful. My soul filled with love, kindness, understanding, compassion. I just struggle with believing it for some reason. Somewhere in my childhood someone must have made me feel like I deserved less. I decided this morning that I don’t care anymore. I am embracing my truth. I am Trish! Hear me, see me, enjoy me, be part of my life, don’t be part of my life but from now on I am LIVING for today.