It Began With A Tear

It came from a song. I have the hardest time singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” It is not because I don’t know the words or that I can’t carry a tune. This is a song about longing, wanting something, or someone or an event that for some reason you can not have. Or maybe you once had it and now it is gone. Or say as in my case I believe it is where I will someday see the face of my kid sister, long since passed away, waiting for me on the other side of this life. Every time I start this song, I stop myself. I feel my emotion catch in my throat. I feel small, alone, and abandoned. A friend asked me today why I never finish this song. For the first time in a long time I told someone why.

I am a broken soul. Most days with a little flair and a jingle or two most people don’t see through the cloud of smoke I lay out. Loss of a loved one is the toughest things that we as survivors have to live with. Tears spill because love cannot be kept. Sometimes all of that love that I am trying so desperately to contain breaks free from my heart and rolls down my cheek. Love

I never realized until today how often I don’t finish this song. This song reminds me of what once was but is no longer. It is a wish, a dream, a fear, a hope, a wanting. It is beautiful. It is haunting. It makes me happy on a good day and crushes me on a bad day. I have a habit of singing in public without invitation. My quirk, my passion, my link to sanity. I promise you that I can sing. I sometimes embarrass the people I am with but singing makes my soul feel alive. If I can make one other person’s life better even for just a span of a moment I feel like maybe I am seen, that what I do matters, that I have a reason to be. For a very long time after my sister died, I felt empty. Singing changes my aura and fixes my broken.

I try to go somewhere every Saturday. I must start this song every adventure and leave it mid verse. Somewhere in the presence of my own grief I forgot that this song means other things to different people. It is not my song and if I am going to start out on this journey I need to get to the end of the yellow brick road. So live like no one is watching, love with everything you have, make those memories and finish your song.

LOST

I am out too far. I cannot safely return to the shore. I have many more strokes to execute before I reach the other side. Dark thoughts haunt me as I tread water just managing to keep my head above the swirling darkness. I have come this way many times before. I never manage to make it to the other side…

Have you ever wanted to freeze your perfect moment in time? One of my favorite movie special effects happens with time freeze. All of the action is frozen except for the principle player and maybe one or two other key role players, a theatrical aside. Brilliant; until that is how you feel your life is unfolding. I plod along. I feel like I am finally gaining an understanding into why I rely on food so heavily to keep me happy and then I have an aside. I have been on program this time around for almost two years! I have been doing well. I know what I want. I know I can I break that tape across the finish line, and then I have an aside. I pause the action so I can freeze all the good things that I am doing with my life… so I can have an aside and misbehave.

WHY? wHy! whY?!?

It is late at night and in this moment I am LOST. I am surrounded by people I love who love me and yet I feel singular, alone, one. I feel abandoned, cast away to fend for myself. I blew up at my hubby yesterday over nothing and everything. The battle I rage against is mine and mine alone. I create the walls, the monsters, the self-hatred. THIS IS how my ANXIETY manifests itself. I begin to doubt everything that I am doing. I OVERTHINK the smallest of details. I have a difficult time remembering my worth. I feel like people can see the tears in my fabric, that like a prop I am not real.

I feel the rut of sadness fast approaching. I feel uneasy. I just want to have the strength to stay the course, putt through to the next hole. I head back to work, my regular routines in a few days. I know I will be able to do this. I just need to find a way to be honest when I am feeling overwhelmed. As my kid sister would say, “You are not lost. You just haven’t been this way before. All roads lead somewhere. You’ll figure it out.”

For her I will keep on until I figure it out and I am not lost anymore.

August

It s a Saturday morning late into the month of August. I am sitting in my chair in my office (comfort zone) where I like to pretend, plan, and hope for better. Whatever that better might be…sex, job, weight, hair style. I am a lousy adult. I hate most everything that goes along with adulting: working, paying bills, grocery shopping, laundry, decisions, decisions, decisions, and responsibilities that never end. Hell, I don’t want them in my life let alone have a list! The older I get the more I realize that what I am really looking for is PEACE. Peace with myself. The time for growing into the person I thought I wanted to be is gone. Instead of working on myself I have been trying to catch a ride to anyplace that will take me away from myself. Huh? I know, right?

I let this  happen to me (September 1,2018) today. I walked into my grocery store and almost bumped into someone I went to WWs with. I did the one thing I promised myself I would never do. I avoided eye contact, pretended that I had not seen this person, and walked in the opposite direction in search of my binge food. Have I lost my flippin’ mind? Why do I always have to hit rock bottom before I find a way back to the surface? I was embarrassed. I stopped trying to be a successful WW. If you know me you can see it quite plainly. Avoiding this person only filled me with shame and anger. Not healthy emotions. I have eaten crap all day today in a backwards attempt at masquerading how I am feeling.

Life is precious so why does it feel so mundane to me? Maybe this is what getting old is really about… life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone… Autumn is closer now than I ‘d like. I am not going to struggle with myself anymore over this bullshit. No more obsessing about my weight… I just can’t do it anymore. It is not helpful. Good bye sauces. good bye granola bars, good bye Nutella, good bye peanut butter (I will miss you most). Good bye to all the carb heavy things my demons crave. Good bye processed food. Good bye I-C-E  C-R-E-A-M (tissue?) Cheese? I am sorry, but we have to break up. It’s me not you. No, that’s a lie. It is you. Our relationship is not healthy.

I log over 12,000 steps a day! I feel every step. My legs push their pain on me. My legs and knees are my enemy. My lungs scream for air. I cringe at the thought of stairs.   Menopause has given me heart palpitations as a gift. I miss bending over to tie my sneakers. Jeans? Oh, don’t even get me started. I am certain that by now none of my favorite hoodies fit or my pants or my winter coat… maybe shivering in the cold while I am naked, will count as exercise and some of my frozen tundra will just chip off !?! 

It is never too late to try once again, so I am told. I still have some misadventures left in my soul.  Cry Havoc! and slip loose the dogs of war! What say you? Do I still have fight in me or should I lie down in a field of flowers and await the vultures? I may slip and falter but I  will never give up or live my life lying down.

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To Be

 

 

 

The First Post After…

the reset button has been pushed.reset I am sitting in my office typing this, trying to figure out what to tell you about my post from the other day. I am fine. I know sometimes I can be very dark.  I know that you lovely people have worried for me. I AM OKAY! I guess I scared my hubby as well, my bad. I have anger issues. I have had this problem even before I knew what an issue was. I have never learned to deal with myself in an appropriate calming manner. I am sorry if I scared anyone that was not my intention.  I BLOG as self therapy. I sit here pouring my heart out to the great cosmos like I am having the best conversation ever with someone in my life that “gets” me, the whole me, the weird me, the wonderful me, the funny, odd, complex me that is ME! I had a best friend. She was my ride or die; until she died in a car accident. Now when I am writing I pretend I am sitting across from her where we used to hang out and chat. I am in my life, most days. I love what is in my life, most days. I even like my job, most days; but sometimes I veer off course. I don’t know why. Maybe I am more like my mother than I like to admit.

I get overwhelmed. I run out of ideas about how to make things better. Sometimes there is more stress than fun. Sometimes there are life events that are beyond my control. I react to them badly. I may be “OLD” but there will always be a learning curve. If only life were a TV sitcom. I could go to Mike Brady and seek counsel but TV is TV. When has Hollywood ever actually saved the day in the real world or made you a better person? Never, at least not to my knowledge.

I need to focus more of my energies on things that bring me JOY. I want all of the people in my life to know that your support, love, friendship and comedy routines mean everything to me. I LOVE you all. I know you are there if needed. I hope you know that I am your ride or die chick (no crime sprees though). I am here if you need me…

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To Be…

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I Stayed Too Long, I Strayed Too Far

The time has come to pick up the pieces of my life once again, pull up my big girl panties and continue on from where I left the ride. The sad reoccurring theme to my life, the never ending cycle of circular logic. I EAT BECAUSE I AM ANGRY, I AM ANGRY BECAUSE I AM DISAPPOINTED. I FEEL SAD FOR FAILING, I AM SAD SO I EAT WHICH MAKES ME ANGRY WHICH MAKES ME EAT… it never ends.

I guess the real question should be why? Why do I always stop myself from completing my journey. When did I decide I had to “fix” myself? I don’t  know but I was a young girl possibly second or third grade. I think that would have put me in the eight years of age range. I am so tired of not being enough for myself. I am a good person. I like to think I am the type of human you might want to hang with. I have excellent communication skills. I love to laugh. I love with my whole being. I am tender hearted. Jeez zus ! I sound like an ad for a shelter animal. “Trish is a sweet old girl who is good around people. She is potty trained. She would do well in any home situation…”
 
I need to STOP trying to fix myself, relax, be in my life the way I want to be. I would love to move onto the next phase of my life’s journey. You know what phase I am talking about? That place in your psyche where you finally feel at home with yourself? Boldly facing the world and its haters;  telling them to go fuck themselves. I don’t need to change! I am beginning to realize that sitting through every WW meeting waiting to learn something new about food and its role in my life is foolish. Food is my drug of choice. Meeting or no the only true way out of this hell I live with is to work through it. No shortcuts, no lying to myself, no eating crap like I am a kid at a candy store.

Learn to alter my behavior for once not my clothes. Live through and experience all of it; the anxiety, the fear, the uncertainty, the joy, the exuberance, the love. I wasn’t kidding when I told you that while I may wander from my place in line, I will never leave the parade until the last float crosses the finish line.Dr.Seuss

Never Give Up On Who You Are Meant To BE.   = )

 

 

My Lost Weekend?

Hubster is away from our homestead this weekend. He attends a gaming convention (not hunting and fishing ) every February. Long before I came into his life he has been making this annual trek to “hangout” with fellow nerds to have a grand time coming together to play games of various inclinations and skill levels. Nerds from all walks of life and different parts of the country come every year to sit in a conventional hall and play games all weekend long.

I am not a gamer, never will be. Time is a precious thing. I squandered too much of it in my youth. I have had my fill of lost weekends. I have been dreading this weekend since January. I look forward to being on my own and yet I am nervous about the prospect of it, separation anxiety I think or maybe the truth is I have not been on my own in a very long time. I have gone on these convention weekends since my hubster and I were dating. I would people watch, go shopping, catch up on books or research papers while I was on break from school or just did more shopping. I always went with my hub until last year. These conventions have always been held a significant distance from our house so for me it was a mini adventure and travel. In the past we have been to Connecticut, New Hampshire, Vermont. Places far enough away that a decent adventure can be had and sleeping accommodations must be made. Not anymore, now the convention is a mere 25 minutes from my house so why rent a hotel room?

I used some vacation time so I could have a long weekend being FREE but… hubby asked me to come for lunch on Friday (today) and supper on Saturday. Good bye to unplanned trip to Maine. Goodbye to getting anything fun in. Good bye to being FREE. I am pretty sure that I don’t have to tell you, we had an argument. This convention is his thing not mine. His once a year adventure not mine, his nerdy friends not mine. I know he will miss me but I think that is a good thing. I suggested that I could come to stay overnight on Saturday. This year he is splitting a room with my besties husband. He doesn’t want me to stay overnight. Oh no! bad idea. Apparently I SNORE! I can not unknow (yes, I know unknow is not a real word but I like it so there’s that!) this now; it makes me sad. How have I lived this long without knowing that sometimes I SNORE!

Just awesome! Let me say for the record my hubby snores as well but apparently mine is of epic proportions; UNBEKNOWNST to me! I feel so insulted, ugly and unwanted except for lunch and supper. I have no interest in visiting him for any reason. I wish to be childish and surly and waste my weekend doing nothing but being angry over this…OR…

I can just move on. I haven’t decided yet.

To Thine Own Self Be True

I often wonder if I had listened to my true self when I was still young and impressionable would I be happier with my life now? I am tired of hating myself. I am tired of running away from myself. Sometimes I say inappropriate things, especially if I feel uncomfortable in a situation. I love the people in my life with my whole being. I expect too much from people. I am headstrong! I want what I want when I want it even when I know it is a bad choice. It drives my hubby craZY!!! I DON’T like to hug but I partake in its joy when I genuinely feel an affinity for the person in search of said contact. I will always sing. I don’t care if it makes you feel uncomfortable because we are in a grocery store. It makes me happy. It causes people to stop and drink in what is happening around them in the now! A smile returned is the greatest feeling.

I will always say something if I think I can stop an abuse:  child, sexual, verbal. No one spoke up for my mother when she was a little girl and she suffered horribly at the hands of others. I will not be SILENT! If I can change one persons path in a better direction than I feel that I have accomplished a life well lived. I am fiercely loyal but I can also be an asshole of the grandest kind to someone who hurts me. https://youtu.be/C6kLbDHu0yc

I am everything…I have ever needed to be!

I would like to say thank you to all of the incredible people that have been or continue to be in the audience of my life. I would be nothing without you.

 

Friday Night Freedom

I chose quiet over crowds. I chose silence over screaming. I chose to be comfortable in front of my laptop screen unwinding from my work day instead of going to a hockey game tonight with my hubby. I just need a break from all the noise. This is about me making some much needed quiet time for myself. I don’t often talk about what it is that I do for a living to pay my bills, I don’t want to bore the snot out of you. Let’s suffice to say that yes, I am gainfully employed and be done with that messy business. I think I can say with all honesty that we all have the same frustrations in common. I gave up a boring job in a boring department to move onto the bright lights of a job no one had before me. Nothing like jumping out of an airplane without a chute. I always wanted to learn to fly.

I have worked for the same company for just shy of thirty-four years! We are like an old married couple afraid to move on to greener pastures, finding comfort in each others existence but most days the sight of you turns my stomach. Wow! when did this happen you might be wondering? I think somewhere in the late 1990s if I were to wager a guess. But there is something to be said about the sameness of something. There is comfort in routine. I like to think that I am good at what I do. But…sometimes I just want to be an extra in a Hollywood production of “This COULD Be Your Life But It Isn’t” Change my routine, have some fun, think outside the box. When I first started my JOB I was barely nineteen. I often joke with new hires and visitors that when I started my job I was young and beautiful; now, I am just beautiful. The crowd laughs but it always makes me a little sad.

I now belong to that crowd of “not young anymore”. I have been downgraded to the  “matronly” category. Thank the Fountain of Youth gods I haven’t hit the “older than dirt, die or retire” set just yet. Not “old” old just older. I am not having an easy go at it. I feel out of step now. My life is ok, I feel vibrant and alive. It’s just I feel like all the people I work with are so much YOUNGER than I am. Once upon a time I was on their side of the tracks now I live on the dark side. Growing up I loved that Disney movie Freaky Friday but this is ridiculous. Some mornings I do feel like the crypt keeper. People around me ask for my sage advice; while I am honored it kinda bums me out. It bothers me more than I like to admit, must be my “age” hang up. I know I need to find my zone. I need to reacquaint myself with my inner child, find my internal fountain of youth. Maybe I am just suffering with that ‘lack of energy and enthusiasm (lethargy) which can be a sign of winter depression. Known medically as seasonal affective disorder (SAD)’. They actually have a depression syndrome called SAD!  How poetic. Nice that science finally admits that winter makes people sad! About damn time sciency people! About damn time.

I love Maxine. She is my spirit animal. I am already feeling better. I have enjoyed being alone with my thoughts. Time for me to get back into the mainstream of my life.

Never Give Up On Who You Are Meant To Be

 

Or Is It JUST Me?…

I often wonder to myself, WTF! Am I the only one who gets the dropsies right before FLO hits town? Or is it JUST me? I often wonder to myself, am I the only one who goes all cleaning commando right before FLO blows into town? I want to wash every dish, do every bit of the laundry, scour all the pots, organize the dresser drawers and scrub the bathroom so it glistens! Or is it JUST me? I often wonder, hmmm?

Why does FLO have to be such an unpleasant house guest? She lurks in the shadows toying with your emotions. I cried watching the movie BFG. I cried reading someone’s post on Fb that I have never met and therefore have no way of knowing if said tragedy of missing cat is real or meant to make me look like an ass. Never mind the tricks FLO plays on short term memory. I lost my gloves in my coat yesterday. I couldn’t find a receipt I carefully misplaced in the pile marked, log into checkbook! ????

Okay, so here in the lovely state of Massachusetts we have been experiencing a reverse heat wave. Wisconsin type temperatures in the NEGATIVE digits for more than one night. Usually my emotions would be all over the place, there would be whining, crying, and complaining but not this week. If there is one great thing about FLO it is in the way she knows how to throw her heat around. I got by without having to wear too many layers for survival. Sadly with FLO’s dramatic entrance my personal furnace has burnt out. Thank GAWD it was 9 degrees outside today or I may have collapsed from the sheer weight of the outerwear I would have been forced to wear.

Now that Flo has settled in for the week I just want to know is it just me? Or does she cause you pain too? My head hurts, my skin hurts, my boobs, even though beautiful, are unyielding in size, get in my way and make me want to cry every time I try on a t-shirt;  because when FLO comes to town I swear my clothes shrink at least three quarters of a size. Also what is it with the munchies? I want chocolate covered salty anything served with foaming cups of hot cocoa with tiny salted caramel marshmallows enticing me as they spin around my cup. The darker the chocolate the better. I thought menopause was supposed to fix this mess and slowly give me other crap to worry about. I guess my body isn’t there yet. OH Joy!

I am happy to report the dishes are indeed done, as is the laundry, and the reorganizing of my dresser is complete. My memory is returning to its strong self and the crying has been taken over by fits of anger and frustration!  I am pleased to report everything here is SNAFU. FLO is moving ahead full steam and in a couple of days all will be back to standard operating procedure. This blog post had been brought to you by: Kleenex, Advil, and the need to lash out in anger over imaginary injustice.

 

 

 

Circle

Round and round, circular logic is the toughest thing to break free from. I talk myself out of and into the same situation ten times in a day. Why is it so flippin’ difficult to get back onto the path of eating better food to feel better? The older I get the more I find myself asking why? Why do I want THIS? Do I need to do this to myself over and over and over? I always walk away from my success. I came very close to walking away again but I am hanging on. I have been thinking about the whys and the wants and the needs of my path all week.

I am not going to walk away from the better version of myself this time. I have finally learned (the eating better, moving more, feeling alive, being happy) this is what I have wanted to be a part of my whole life. Sometimes a person has to get lost so they can find their way back home. I was in a weird { HEY! I notice you have wrinkles and grey hair} FUNK. I did not want to own the facts of who I am versus who I think I am or who I am sure I will become. I fell into the trap of being upset over something I have no control over. I stressed myself out because I no longer have that “Feck You I am 25” look . Now I am becoming that part of the OLDER crowd at gatherings and birthday parties. No one wants me to sit at the kids’ table anymore. Quite frankly that pisses me off. I mean who wants to sit with the old fogies? Not me! but the truth is I kind of sort of belong to that section of the orchestra now.

I wanted to grow into an elegant beauty like Lena Horne. Yup, you guessed it not gonna happen. Not with the neck wattle I am melting into. Lena Hornechicken-live3-1Dreams shatter like glass on a sidewalk. Sweep up the mess, move on.