Tag: fear

Owning It

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For the first time in my life Cinco de Mayo will have a whole new twisted significance. I will be in a local hospital in my city having major surgery during a pandemic. NO BIG DEAL…Who am I really? June 9th 2019 I accepted a healthier life challenge. I was planning a trip of a lifetime, with my friend Jadira, to Walt Disney World and to Universal Studios to see all things Potter. I was once again at a weight tipping point. Too fat to ride rides, too fat to fly without a seat belt extender, too fat in my own skin to feel healthy. I wanted to GO and let loose and feel real, feel like a kid again, to love myself and to accept myself for the beauty that is mine and uniquely my own. We went to Disney and to Universal February 2020 before the World fell sick. I flew without needing a seat belt extender. I HAD the TIME of my life! I accepted that challenge to get back to living and I ran with it. I believed I could. I do it every single day. I choose my path .

I have been living my life with every new day given. I carefully make better choices for myself where health, both physical and mental are my top self care priorities. My body is leaner. I feel better than I have for a very long time. It is a wonderful feeling to look in the mirror and feel a sense of accomplishment. I see a beauty there I thought I had killed.

My primary care physician would like to see me tip the scales at 165lbs. At my last weigh-in I was hovering around 184 LBS! A true fucking miracle! A weight I have not seen in 15 years. I show up every day to work on myself to become the best version of myself over and over because tomorrow will be better, I will be better. I am nervous about my surgery. I am afraid I will never be able to sing again. I worry my mental health will take a hit. I am afraid that ONCE AGAIN I will walk away from my best success because of the fear I am having a hard time managing and get FAT to the point of unhealthy…BUT…I will fight on. I will not give into my fear. I will reach out when I am in need. WHY? you might ask, because I GOT THIS. I am owning it.

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To BE

And So It Begins…

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Over the course of last week(June 8th) the job called and summoned the hubster back to work. Joy and anxiety, two emotions that should not be holding hands, and yet…

The hubster and I work for the same company. We have two very different types of jobs.  While we occasionally see each other at work more often than not we do not see each other until the end of our day. I did not get a call back. At this moment my skill set is not needed. I know how anxious I am feeling being home alone; I can only imagine how he is doing right now at work without me. And so it begins…

I have missed the faces of my family, my friends, my co workers{sigh}. We are all bound by the rules of the Governor of Massachusetts to wear masks while in public spaces. Until further notice, while I am allowed to “see” my family, my friends, my co workers it has to be from a distance under the cover of a mask. This alone makes my soul heavy. My parents did their best to raise me to be kind, to be strong, to be open minded, to love with an open heart. I feel like all of those good qualities have been put through the ultimate test. I have chosen to let some friends quietly leave my circle. Why? their wheel house, too many wheels. I want what is best for them. I chose what makes my mental health better. I just don’t want to deal…Some times you can love someone for ALL the wrong reasons. You have to be strong and wise enough to set them free, to set yourself free.

I started writing this blog because I needed someone to talk to because the voices (my thoughts, not pyschosis) in my head were too loud, too negative, and were void of love. My anxiety and negative vibes so strong I couldn’t hear myself think. Writing what is on my mind helps My voice( the things that I really am, what I believe in) to be strong and loud. When my insecurities get too weird for me to manage writing helps me to filter out the menusha.

I have now been back to work for almost eight weeks. I don’t feel I am any safer or unsafer than before. I go to bed anxious. I wake up anxious.

Remember when you went through life everyday NOT worried you were going to end up a pandemic statistic? Me either. I am tired of watching the talking heads come to no good solutions. People are making me afraid of my own shadow. Remember when reckless behavior was sleeping around? hanging out with sketchy friends? smoking things? drinking? Now it is all about spoiled people thinking their rights are being infringed upon. Misplaced, dangerous anger never once fixed ONE SINGLE ISSUE! I go to bed anxious. I wake up anxious.

Every thing in the world is screaming to a halt. If we promise we have learned a lesson and we will try to behave, can we be let out of timeout?

 

 

and Cue the Music…

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Owning something for me means being honest with how I am feeling or coping with a situation in my life at any given time. Last week I went to my usual Saturday morning meeting. I wasn’t feeling my best and for the first time since going back to WWs in February I didn’t want to get out of bed and go face the scale (insert dread filled music).

I know myself pretty well, when the nasty, insult laden negativity starts to creep into my thought plane I need to be extra careful. I talked myself into the shower. I talked myself into making the drive across the city. I talked myself into walking into the door. I am that hesitant, negative tourist who ends up having a grand time once I convince myself everything will be fine. Everything was fine.

Have you ever felt wonderful and terrible at the same time? Instant unease in the pit of my stomach. I am happy that I am doing well but I am scared I will falter and give up. I am happy that I am losing weight but I harbor disappointment for having allowed myself to become so unhealthy in the first place. Wait, What?

The toughest part of this journey for me is to be honest with myself even when it hurts. In the end if I manage to work through the mental demons blocking my path I come out of the other end of the tunnel in a better place than when I entered the underpass, usually. This week I have been in a dark space. I have been running away from how I am feeling since my Pops passed away. I have experienced profound loss before when my kid sister died in a car crash. I survived but I am not the same. I struggled for years about not being enough, that  I let her down, disappointed her and if I had just been???!!!??? I could have prevented the tragedy in the first place. All lies, all self-doubt, all fear driven.

I am feeling overwhelmed and uncertain. I feel like an after shock. An earthquake came and destroyed my little corner of the world. Every once in a while I feel a wave of negative energy wash over me. I don’t know what to do next. I am afraid and I am struggling because I feel like I have been left behind. I will work my way through this. The anxiety I am feeling will pass. I will be Okay. I am not alone, family is bigger than what you are born into. I am just having a moment.

That moment:  an event or a feeling that can change your life path. I have had a few  moments in my time.  That moment when I realized that I meant something wonderful to someone. That moment when the phone rang and she was gone from my life forever. That moment when I finally understood that I am Okay just as I am. That moment when I decided that I am worthy of more than I have allowed myself to believe. Moments make up a lifetime. We all have bad, uncomfortable moments but it is up to you what you do with that. Don’t let small mistakes become BIG problems. My moments have taught me many things. I am stronger than I thought. I am brave. I am capable. My moments have been valuable beyond measure.

Before I met him I thought I would always be alone. Before she died I thought I couldn’t live without her. Before I married him I never knew how wonderful love was. Before I understood, I thought I was broken. Before I knew who I was, I yearned for something more; now I am enough. OWN YOUR MOMENTS. Learn from them, lean on them in times of uncertainty, embrace them. Be in YOUR MOMENTS.

Never Give Up on the Person You Are Meant to Be

 

Mirror, mirror…

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…on my wall.  I have had quite a few things on my mind this week. Thoughts that randomly invade my sleep, thoughts that nag at me in the check out line at the grocery store, questions that come to me when I am mid-conversation with someone. I have spent a lot of time reflecting about where I’ve been, how far I have come, and what is next for me on this adventure. I try to face my fears with humor, determination, and a good anxiety med now and then  o-O .  Last week I told you about my need for new bras. I was nervous about going. I  talked to myself from the time I left my morning meeting until late the next afternoon before I bravely ripped off the Band-Aid of fear, plunging headlong into the experience. You know what? It wasn’t as bad as I remembered; maybe I have changed,opened myself up to a new way of being myself. I am down both a cup size and a band size, Yeah!!!!  =  )   =  )  =  )

It is not just my body that is different. I feel different. Happy in a way I have not been happy in a long time. I noticed for the first time this week that my pace while I walk is quicker. I am not so out of breath any more. My feet don’t hurt.  I feel more confident in my ability to choose the right things for myself. I have enough energy to last through my workday and still have enough reserves left to go shopping or take an evening walk or enjoy extra curricular activities{{wink, wink}}. No nap needed =  ) I know there is more work to be done. I just thought I would take a moment to rest, appreciate the wonders I have seen before I continue the climb.

I look in the mirror. I see my smiling face. There is a feeling a self-worth. I am becoming the woman I want to be. Once upon a time I couldn’t see through my tears. I missed the beauty that was right in front of ME! The beauty (inner) has always been there; I just forgot. Life pushed me hard. I lost my balance. I fell down. I thought I would never be better. I got to a point where I was tired of feeling badly about who I was, who I was allowing myself to be.  I stood up to myself and took control. It has been tough on me to accept that my normal means being ever mindful about my mouthfuls; but, I am a big girl and I am learning to adult. I got this. I am doing this. I own this.

 

re·flec·tion(rĭ-flĕk′shən)n

1.The act of reflecting or the state of being reflected.2. Something, such as light, radiant heat, sound, or an image, that is reflected.3.a. Serious thinking or careful consideration: engaged in reflection on the problem. b. A thought or an opinion resulting from such thinking or consideration: wrote down her reflections.4. An indirect expression of censure or discredit: a reflection on his integrity.5. A manifestation or result: Her achievements are a reflection of her courage.

Never give up on the person you are meant to be.

What Makes Us Different…

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makes us the same.

It starts early in my day on Fridays. I start thinking about what I want to blog about. I worry no one will read my thoughts or worse that no one will care.  Sometimes I wonder if the effort I put in is worth it. Then I remember this blog is for me. I write as a way to keep myself in check. I share how I am feeling in the hopes that what I have to say helps one person to realize that they are not alone. We all struggle with something :  loneliness, depression, weight, beauty, stress from a bad marriage, death of a loved one…the list is endless. What makes us different makes us the same.

I started this weight loss journey again in February. I decided it was time for me to change my outlook (I had painted it grim, I was buying my own lies hook, line, and sinker). I forgot how to be happy, to live in my moments. I had spent so much time and energy trying to be the best daughter to my Pops, who suffers with dementia, that I had stopped taking care of myself. I stopped caring about me. I should have reached out for help. Maybe, I wouldn’t have gotten so lost if I had just stopped and asked for direction.

I throw a wall of emotions out in front of me to keep me safe from prying eyes. I make people laugh so I won’t cry. I sing because I am in distress. I eat because I am angry and I don’t know how to use that negative energy in a positive way. I decided that those things that are sometimes true about me needed to be changed. I needed to change. I am learning to own my anger. I don’t have to self-destruct. I am bigger than that. I am worth more than that. I am learning to laugh from joy. I sing because it makes me happy. I  try to talk myself out of my anger. I am trying to let go of things I am unable to change.  I am growing as a person, not in the waistband, a first for me.  = )

The truth is everyone is afraid to get hurt. Life is not a free ride. It comes with pain and disappointment. It has moments of grief and anger. It is the longest, most intense adventure you will ever undertake. You deserve to be in every messy, wonderful, emotion filled moment of it. Learn to be kind to yourself. You do it for other people, learn to value yourself. Stop blaming yourself for the way things have gone in the past. Live for the now.

You have the chance to be a better version of you, right now.  You are strong enough to stand up for what you want. There is no need to feel guilty about being successful at being you. Never give up on the person you are meant to be.

What makes us different makes us the same  =  ) We can do this Cupcake!

 

 

Where Does It Come From?

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Inspiration for a blog post comes from many things around me. Little things that everyday people miss everyday. The smile on a little girl’s face when she looks up at the man she calls Daddy, the homeless man on the street holding his sign pleading for 2, the school kids heading home from class on a beautiful day, a small child crying seemingly unhappy at not being understood. I see. I have trouble not thinking about all of the things I see. The world is not a safe or friendly place. My mother often struggled with everyday things.  She struggled keeping the house clean, food in the fridge, clean clothes in our dressers. She suffered the whole of her life from mental illness. I often felt growing up that we were teetering on the edge and the slightest upset in its delicate balance would spell ruin for our family.  My darkest fear is to be homeless.

The other day on my way home from a doctor appointment I saw her. A young woman with a cardboard sign on the side of the road. She could have been my niece. She was young, pretty, her clothes clean.  She looked out of place, she looked cold. She made me sad. I admit to you that I didn’t roll down my window. I am not sure handing someone a dollar through the crack of my window could change the course her life is on. It did however put a bump into my world. I can’t shake what I see. What I keep seeing. Where has the kindness in the world gone? the trust? the hope? the love?

I do not know this girl’s story. I am not sure if I asked her that it would be a truth filled tale. She may have fallen on hard times, lost her job, or her way, or tripped out on drugs and still hasn’t made it back to the “real” world. All I know is that every time I see someone on the street holding an overused cardboard sign my soul cracks just a little more. My heart gets a little heavier, tears manages its way down my cheek. Life is a precious gift that people throw away. When will we learn? Will we ever learn?

Kathy’s Song

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She was there. My Pops had just been transferred from the hospital to enter the uncertain life as a nursing home resident. In the short span of his first week he was busted from the fifth floor to the fourth because he needed additional looking after. Which I learned really meant that my dad in his confusion would sometimes enter other patients rooms and well, wreak havoc. He didn’t mean any harm but nonetheless disturbances of any kind can have a very negative effect on the frail and/ or elderly who are just trying to have a little peace in their lives. I wasn’t happy the staff wanted to move my Pops but I understood so with minimal crabbing from me I helped the CNA move my dad to his new digs.  She was there.

Our first meeting is difficult for me to recall, not because I have memory issues but more from the level of stress I hadn’t yet sorted out. Everything that was happening to Dad and I still hadn’t sunken into my thought process. I was feeling so overwhelmed and beaten. I felt numb. She was there. Her name is Kathy. Her hubby was one of the residents at my Dad’s new “home”. She was friendly and talkative. I felt comfortable in her presence from that first moment. She showed me around the fourth floor and gave me a few pointers about the staff, the meal times, how to control the heat in Dad’s room, where to find extra linens. By reaching out to me she changed that moment of fear for me. I relaxed a little and I felt a wave of relief I was sure was never going to come.

I am sure she has no idea how much that day changed me. It changed the way I view my Dad’s living situation. It changed the way I am towards other people who have loved ones suffering from illnesses and dementia. Even though each of our battles are unique to us we are all in the same war; fighting to give our loved one the best “rest of their lives”.  My Pops was only at his first nursing home for two weeks when a bed became available closer to my home in a better environment. I jumped at the opportunity. I am not sorry that I moved Pops. We are both happier and healthier now. Kathy’s hubby has moved as well into a better living arrangement. I couldn’t be happier for them both.

Kathy and I keep in touch as much as possible, gotta love the interwebs, and today we went to lunch. I had a wonderful time. Thank you Kathy for being the light of hope I needed so badly that day. Never forget that one person can change the world. Never underestimate what you mean to someone else.

Love,

Trish  =  )

Fear

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What are you afraid of?

I have lived with some form of fear, well, I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid. I guess you could say fear has always been on my side. I was afraid of the dark as a child. I was afraid of my mothers’ rage. I was afraid to try new things or to look stupid in front of others. I am afraid of chickens and dolls with faces. I am afraid of losing myself to obesity. I am afraid that some day I will get dementia like my Pops. I am afraid of being homeless, jobless, abandoned.

The problem with fear is that it can be so powerful that you get frozen by it. It is difficult to free myself.  Fear has a way of making you small. I forget sometimes that I am in control of how my day goes. I have the power to turn a bad day around. I am a force to be reckoned with  when I stand up for myself. Being fearful makes you weary in a way that is hard to explain to a person who doesn’t understand what it is like to carry this burden.

Fear …I hate you. I hate how you fill me with self doubt.

 

The View From the Cliff

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I find myself on the edge of a cliff uncertain if I can maintain my balance. I teeter on the edge between believe and unbelievable. I am not ready to give up. I am not afraid of heights. I am leery of them. My head begins to pound and for a second I think I will lose my footing. I won’t. I always catch myself. I wonder what will happen that one day when I don’t catch me. Will I plummet over the edge into an abyss never to reappear? I struggle everyday with a pain that pierces me to my core. Some days it hurts just to draw breath; until I realize I am not breathing. I am holding in my tears or my anger or my fear.

I am tired of feeling this way. There is a difference between living and being alive. Somewhere in my life I stopped living. I go through the motions of living but I don’t really care if I am. I know this is dangerous territory to be in. I need, I need, I need to stop. I foolishly lost what I once had from fear. I want to change things but I am afraid. I am afraid to succeed.

Am I worth it? everyday I disappoint myself. I talk myself out of getting off my asscake and working on the me I need. Why is that? I have no real answer except fear. The crap a person is willing to live with instead of facing the unknown. I infuriate myself. I am at the crossroads once again. If I can just believe in myself I got this. I can handle what is next. If I just believe. Where’s Tinkerbell when a girl really needs her?

That Good Bad Girl,Maleficent

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I never imagined I would live to this age. I guess part of the blessings of youth is that young people don’t dwell on anything but the present. When’s the next party? the next test? When I used to dream about my future it was always about love. Being in love, finding someone to love, finding someone who would “get” me. I foolishly thought someday my prince would come and that I too would get to live a Disney heroine type of life. Yeah, right. Don’t get me wrong I love my hubby. He loves me but no matter how much I wish it; he is no Prince Charming and I, am no Cinderella. I have always been more of a Maleficent kind of gal. Troubled, misunderstood, longing for that one elusive thing I already have.

I have been at the same job for thirty years. WOW, right? No risk Trish that’s what they should call me. Fear sucks. I am afraid to do something else so I do nothing. I would love to write a book but lack of self belief keeps me from fulfilling a dream. I always thought anger was the most powerful emotional doorstop that a person has to struggle through but that is not the truth. Fear is worse. Fear is an ugly purse you keep in case of an emergency. There are many types of fear. My deepest fear? total failure, loss of everything I think is important to my well being. Each of us carries a bit of fear for various reasons. Some carry fear as a reminder of a past event. How they survived kept in the back of their minds ever ready to present itself like a cigarette incased in glass for a nick of time rescue. Or fear that keeps people just out of range, no attachments necessary, safer that way. Fear is the only emotional state that has its own categories based on levels of irrational thoughts and behaviors. PHOBIAS everyone has them, few like to claim them.

Fear is the hardest thing to push through. Taking action means facing that fear no matter the outcome. I have lived with fear in one form or another since I was a little girl. I was too young once upon a time to realize that my mother had serious mental illness. She is the one who introduced me to fear. She scarred me. I never felt safe in her presence. I never knew what she was capable of doing. She always made sure to remind me in a painful way if I forgot and allowed myself to get to comfortable around her. One misstep and POW. My mother would come at you guns blaring on a mission to make you pay for some transgression real or imagined. I am a grown up now or some semblance there of and yet I have the hardest time when I am fearful, waiting…for the shoe to drop.