tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-120977052024-03-07T04:11:09.296-05:00oceans...these oceans of thoughts,out of my head and into the universe.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.comBlogger255125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-16642280334461558162022-02-12T16:42:00.003-05:002023-11-18T20:13:02.258-05:002.14.22<p> Again, with the no title. I don't have the cleverness or the energy to think of anything interesting to say or anything worthwhile to write but i need to write to get these thoughts out of my head for some peace. God. I just want some peace. I need a light to guide me out of this extremely dark room that I have been in for such a long time. Years. It feels like it has been a lifetime. maybe only really bad for months. but I have not been coping well for awhile now. I remember when I was so miserable when we lived in philly. It felt like my life was at it's worse. I truly felt like I had nothing to live for. I was drunk all the time. literally. from morning to night. I don't know why or how I didn't get arrested or kill myself or someone else. Only grace, I guess. things turned around and I was doing really well for awhile. even with all the pain of Poem dying and others I love dying and just immense stress of raising a child with severe impulsivity and rage and violent behavior. I was coping. I was going forward. One step. another step. just making it through. I don't want to rehash all the shit I have been though. It feels so much that I can't even remember it all. I was dissociated for a lot of it. But now, why now? Why did it all just become too much the 6 months? Covid? yeah maybe. Nursing school? yeah. maybe. But i just broke. I don't know when I started drinking so much and so often again. I just got drunk occasionally. just to rest my mind. then it was every night. then I started a little bit earlier every day. When my mind was swimming and my body felt like I was moving under the water, I felt weightless like all the stress was just floating away. It was a break from the first time in years my mind and body were free to relax. When I was drinking the it didn't matter if I was lonely than I had ever been in my life even though I surrounded myself with guys several days of the week. It didn't matter that I was telling my husband that something was wrong with our marriage and he just didn't care enough to put any effort in. It didn't matter that the complicated PTSD from years of physical and verbal abuse was being triggered daily by other physical and verbal abuse. It didn't matter that I was struggling so hard to keep my head above the waves but I was drowning. My moods were labile. One minute I was so angry and agitated and wanted to claw my skin off and the next minute I was feeling beautiful and hilarious and popular and smart. I felt different. I felt young. I felt free. I felt invincible. I began doing some very risky behaviors. Some completely unethical and immoral things that I never thought I was capable of doing. I had always been so Intune with my moral compass. I would get to a certain point of things and never cross the line. I would always be convicted and stop things before I went too far. I wasn't stopping myself. I couldn't stop myself. I scared myself. I didn't recognize myself. Things became a revolving door of terrible drunken behavior and waking up with searing guilt, shame and remorse. Swearing I would stop drinking because clearly. that was the cause of my lack of inhibition, Every day I would promise myself that I wouldn't go to the liquor store. Every even I would go there. My resolve which had been so strong just a few hours earlier was completely gone. </p>merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-71063062479986615782016-09-06T20:07:00.001-04:002016-09-06T20:07:38.651-04:00September 6, 2016I can't be bothered with fancy titles of these ridiculous blog posts. I can barely think straight and I sure as fuck can't be creative or witty right now. so. i am just going to write. My baby died. That is what is going down. It happened on August 20th and well, what do you say about that? I'm grieving. it's hard. it sucks. i want to write eloquently and beautifully and I want to move people. i want people to be touched so they understand my pain. but you won't. unless you have experienced the loss of a baby. you can't. i want to be sensitive and kind right now. but i can't be. i want to want to be with people but i don't. i especially don't want to be around people who aren't easy for me to be around normally. i'm not a misanthrope, per se, but i've never been a fan of most people. there are only a handful of people that i love and even less that I couldn't live without. if i can't be authentic around you then it's just too much work. if i have to worry that you are going to be offended or your feelings are going to get hurt because i'm not meeting your expectations then I' not going to subject myself to the displeasure of your company. I have some friends that are comforting to me. My sisters. my parents. my husband and baby boy. therapist. These people are helpful. <br />
<br />
<br />merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-91046633977900712912015-05-20T10:16:00.001-04:002015-05-20T10:16:20.474-04:00Hi.I'm writing on my blog. This feels weird and foreign but ,oh ,so right. After so much time of feeling like I couldn't string three words together to save my life I finally feel like I can kind of think again. Well, most days. Again, I must say that when I start anything creative, whether it's writing, painting or writing a new song, I usually get annoyed at my creation and want to kill it. Much like, Dr. Frankenstein. Except, I don't think he was just annoyed at his monster. I think he just was like, "Oh shit...I created a monster. Literally. I literally created a monster.I gots to do something about that." I'm pretty sure that it what he said. I'll try not to erase this before I post it.<br />
<br />
So, what's been going on? Well, hmm, toddler hood. Not mine. I'm actually outgrowing a lot of my toddler behavior. That's good since I'm 38. But Bubba Gus is about to be 17 months and his toddler behavior is in full swing. The good, the bad, and the hilarious. He has the cutest little voice and he has started to talk a lot. I understand like, 3 words. He's really good at saying, "Up". when he wants to go somewhere. Like, up. or down. or really anywhere. He says Mama and Dada and a few other words when he feels like it. He has a great sense of humor and loves to laugh and make people laugh. He already figured out that if he does something wrong like bite me, he can do something funny or look really cute and I try hard not to laugh. That kid. Case in point. The other night he wouldn't go to sleep so I was chilling in his room to help move things along. He kept jumping around and acting nuts. Finally I said, "Gus. I am going to have to leave if you don't lay down and go to sleep". He quieted down and was still for while. Just when I thought that he was asleep he starts making farty noises by blowing raspberries on his arm and cracking up. He looked at me like, "waka waka waka". As the great Fozzie Bear says. I couldn't help cracking up. Brother. I'm in for a heap of trouble...and laughs.<br />
<br />
Ok, well I wish I could write more but as of now I'm getting the urge to erase this. so, I'm going to post it before I do.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-11471900115678034462014-02-25T14:04:00.002-05:002014-02-25T14:04:12.749-05:00Winter fogWhat a crazy winter. Am I right? This has been the snowiest few months I can remember and the usual me would be all over it like white on...snow. A few months ago I was hoping for lots of snow. I pictured myself cozied up with my little newborn baby peacefully drinking tea and reading by the fire. I'd be drinking the tea and reading. Not the baby. Buuuuuut, that's not how the picture played out. Firstly, we don't have a fireplace so that really put a damper on things and secondly, while I do get some tea now and then I am just now having moments of peacefulness with my infant son. He will be 9 weeks in a few days and honestly, he has been quite the fussy little gent. It could be because he was born 3 weeks early and his tummy wasn't fully working properly. The past few weeks have consisted of him eating quite often. Not as much sleeping as I was anticipating and a lot of diaper changes. Oh, and when he wasn't eating or sleeping he was fussing if not flat out crying. He didn't scream for hours on end like the hellish stories I have been told by a few of my friends. Thank God for that. Just a lot of angry WAAAAHs. He knows what he wants and when he wants it and I can't say I blame the kid. I am praying he doesn't have my sensory issues because when I am over stimulated I can have a major meltdown. Much like an infant.<br />
<br />
Mike and I have really been a great team. He has really been an equal partner in the care taking and takes great care of me in the process. He shares in the feedings and diaper changes and is always at the ready to take Gus if I am feeling overwhelmed ( which isn't too often due to his aforementioned help). He is a real gem.<br />
<br />
Gus is just now starting to interact in a way that feels personal. Up until this past week I have felt like I could be anyone and Gus wouldn't know the difference. Now, he looks around when he hears my voice. He is starting his social smiles (way to melt a girls heart) and he has a lot longer periods of both sleep and content awake time. Thank the Good Lord.<br />
<br />
I cannot wait for spring so I can get outside with him more. We have started some smallish outing to the mall for some social interaction on the days Mike works and goes to school. Otherwise I feel isolated and a little cray zay.<br />
<br />
Welp, that's all my brain will allow right now. sorry for typos. I don't feel like checking for them.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-77168724759946784492014-01-04T14:01:00.002-05:002014-01-04T17:06:41.098-05:00Labor and delivery Part 1<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
What a week. It feels like it has been years. I think it’s
been more stressful than any other week I can remember. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two weeks ago I was
asked by my OBGYN, So are you ready to have a baby”? I said, Yeah! Not
realizing that she meant the next week. I had developed a case of Cholestasis
which is a liver issue that can be extremely harmful/deadly to an unborn baby.
I was 36 weeks pregnant and she was telling me that I was being induced the
next week. I was terrified. I was scared that my baby wouldn’t live another
week because of the Cholestasis and I was scared of him coming early. My stress
level felt like it was at an all time high. It didn’t even compare to the
stress of the next week. </div>
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<br /></div>
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9:00pm Christmas night I went in to the hospital to be
induced. It started off pretty badly with a sweet nurse who didn’t understand
that when a girl says she has a vagal response who get someone who knows how to
deal with it. You don’t keep on trying with the iv and tell her that her veins
are collapsing and she sits there barfing in a bucket and trying not to pass
out. Finally, they called in an expert who got in and out. The way it needs to
be done. They tried to put the Foley bulb in but I was already naturally dilated to 3.25c. I had been 2c just days before.It popped out. I was thankful
for that because I had heard how unpleasant it could be. At 4:00am they started
Pitocin. I had mild period pain. Nothing that felt remotely like any
contraction I had heard about. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At around 9:00am the Doctor came in to break my
water and kicked up the Pitocin. That was intense. I didn’t know it was going
to be like someone dumped gallons of warm fluid in my lap. She also noticed the
Meconium in the fluid. She wasn’t as concerned as I was. That was when the
actual contractions that you are warned about kicked in. They came on hard and
they came on fast. You can’t really understand them until you have experienced
them. I can’t really describe them because all I felt was pain. Intense, broad,
blinding, felt like I was being tortured pain. I am not saying that a person
hasn’t experienced pain until they have gone through labor because that of
course, can’t be said. I’ve had excruciating pain before. This is different.
Not sure if it’s worst than anything I’ve ever felt but it was excruciating
none the less. Like someone is shredding your midsection with a knife. I was
told I would forget the pain after labor. Maybe I will but I haven’t yet. The
good news was that I had spoken tot my Doctor about my sensory issues and how
my only plan for labor was to be as pain free as possible and to do what was
best for the baby. I went maybe 5 contractions before I was asking for the
epidural. By the grace of God the Anesthesiologist came in quickly and the
epidural pinched for a second. I still felt intense contractions for maybe 5
minutes and then the pain just disappeared. It was weird. I could move my legs
and everything. I just couldn’t feel the pain. It felt like a miracle. My mom
came to visit us. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was checked around noon and was at 6 cm. My sister arrived
and we were talking away and having a good time. Mike felt tired so he laid
down for a little nap. At about 1:30pm I started feeling the period pains again
and looked at the monitor. The contractions were off the chart. We called the nurse
in to ask if it was normal. It was then that she noticed that the baby’s heart
rate was down. She had me flip from side to side.She called the Doctor in and
she had me do a few things. This is when I started to worry. Finally his heart
rate went back. She checked me expecting me to be dilated a bit more. It turns
out I was 9cm. She said I needed to start pushing. We woke Mike up and he and
Lindsay both took a leg and I started pushing with all that I had in me. It
didn’t hurt but it felt like really hard work. I felt the urgency to get him
out and just never wanted to rest. I was pushing for about 20 or so minutes and
he was delivered at 2:03 pm. However, he wasn’t breathing. This is when I
started to panic.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s hard for me now to even start to write about it because
of the emotions it reminds me of. I start feeling sick in my stomach and
panicky all over again. They got him breathing again and handed him to me. He
looked like a tiny little alien with filmy eyes and an oxygen mask. I was so
relieved that he was alive and so sad that he had to be taken to the NICU that
I just started sobbing. His little eyes tried to look at me but I’m sure he
couldn’t really see anything it all. People always say that you love your child
instantly. I had my doubts. People always say that it is like no love you have
ever felt before. I wasn’t sure that would be true. Looking down at this little
miracle, this fragile little precious soul that just a few minutes before was
so tentatively teetering on the edge of life, I can honestly say that I
instantly fell completely in love with this child.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He was then taken from me
and placed in the NICU. We didn’t know what was going on. They said to call
down in about 30 minutes but when Mike did they said they had another emergency
and were unable to talk at the moment. What about our emergency? Was he ok? Our
friend, Ruth, came in to visit. She being a nurse took Mike down and ushered
him into the NICU so that he could find out what was going on. He was able to
hold Gus and see that he was doing well. I had to wait 6 hours from his birth
to go down because of the epidural. I don’t remember anything about those 6
hours except that a nurse was teaching me how to take care of my stitched up
area down below. Finally, I was able to go down and see him.</div>
merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-71469821021319399222013-12-06T17:23:00.003-05:002013-12-06T17:23:53.868-05:00New post...Hip Hip...no seriously, my hips are killing meHidy Ho to all my 2 readers. Again, I apologize for the long absence of my earth shattering and mind blowing thoughts. I have been quite over whelmed with thoughts but they are the kind of where I could be thinking about getting a cup of tea and then by some bizarre thought trail of the mind I am having a panic attack because I haven't organized baby clothes. Being that at anytime my brain could shut down or I could have said panic attack, I am just going to write without thinking and then hit publish. FUN FUN. So, it's the holidays. I have always been a fan of the holidays but for some reason since my sisters moved away the actual day of Christmas has been pretty stressful for me. As has Thanksgiving. I think at first it was stressful because everyone would come back and we would all stay at my parent's house and I would feel like I needed to stay there and cram all the time I could spend with them into a few days. For a girl with sensory issues who needs to have time a lone and actual has a lot of issues that still get triggered around certain family members, it was intense at times and I almost always spent at least an hour in a room by myself having a meltdown. Usually Darby would come in trying to coax me back down with a present.Presents always make me feel better. Then my sisters had to stop coming back for Christmas because it was expensive. They invite us out but a. yeah, it's expensive and B.we have other family members here to consider and lastly and honestly the most compelling reason is because Mike ALWAYS has a damn conference for work the day after Christmas for a week.Now, thankfully it's going to stop being the damn week after Christmas sometime soon but it sucks for now. Actually, 2 years ago it was in DC and I went with him. That was fun. Last year I couldn't get off work to go and this year I will be about 3 weeks from my due date. I want to go. It's in Baltimore. It's not a good idea. I've been told. But many people. I'm not totally convinced that me being here 9 months pregnant without Mike IS a good idea but...whatever. Anyway, The past few years on the actual days of Thanksgiving/ Christmas have been stressful because while members of my family that make me happy are NOT here, there are members of my family that ARE here. So we spend Christmas with those members. Though I love these family members my relationship with some of them are complicated and can be quite stressful. and since it's mean and wrong to say, Hey this year, don't invite blah blah blah, I have to deal with my feelings. I usually feel ill at ease and therefore have a hard time acting not grumpy. AAAAND SCENE. I'm done for now. will write more later.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-76484389406914858812013-07-01T15:47:00.002-04:002013-07-01T15:47:38.435-04:00RecentlyIt's been awhile. I was gently prodded to write by a sweet friend via text. I have a good reason for not posting and it is that I had a huge secret burning a hole in my pocket, or brain or whatever you say. Big NEWS. BIG BIG NEWS. Mike and I decided not to announce it until we had waited a bit and personally ( or impersonally via text in my case) told our family and closest friends.I probably could have handled telling people a little better. I literally told most everyone by text including Mike who was sitting right next to me. I just felt weird telling people.<br />
<br />
Anyway, my thoughts were so preoccupied with the news that I couldn't think of one dang thing to say that wasn't related to the big news. But now the news is out to family and friends and even Facebook, so I can feel free to write about whatever I'm thinking about.<br />
<br />
I'm pregnant. It's so weird. I know I have written on here many time about how I was trying for so long and I just couldn't conceive. I wanted to be pregnant so much and was so frustrated that I just wasn't.But it's time to be honest. We weren't really trying too hard for all those years. We were trying for awhile and even went to the fertility doctor maybe 4 or 5 years ago. After lots of tests and poking and prodding and even a painful surgery with only LOCAL anesthesia (as in they were cutting me and I could not only see it on screen but FEEL the hell out of it) I was basically told that I had Poly-cystic ovaries and that I was too morbidly obese for the doctor to help me. She told me that she felt that I was too unhealthy to get pregnant. I was sad and mortified. Something else I was too fat to do. The person who was supposed to help when you can't do it on your own was saying, Yeah, I'm not going to help you because you are too fat. So I kind of gave up for awhile. I thought that maybe the Doctor was right. If my body wasn't naturally conceiving then maybe there was a reason. Maybe my body couldn't handle a pregnancy.<br />
<br />
We began to discuss adoption but it just didn't feel right. I had this nagging feeling in the back of my head that I would get pregnant someday and that it just wasn't the right time. <br />
<br />
So, with that in mind, I was content with not being pregnant. I had a new goal. I wanted to get my body healthier.I worked really hard to make that goal a reality. A little over a year after my bariatric surgery and a significant amount of weight lost I figured we could start trying again. I wanted to start naturally so I started charting. The first month I charted I got pregnant.<br />
<br />
After 7 and a half years of being married and thinking it was a very real possibility that I would never be a mother you would think that positive pregnancy test would have sent me over the moon with joy and excitement. In reality, it sent me into dissasociation, then panic, then overwhelming bad feelings that I couldn't actually pin point. Then I felt guilty for not being overjoyed and so grateful for the blessing. Mainly I just felt really doubtful that I was really pregnant.<br />
<br />
So time went on and I started feeling symptoms. Let's just say that feeling so horribly physically did nothing good for my bad emotional feelings. I was kind of in a tough place.<br />
<br />
Then the other day I went to the Doctor. It was second appointment and I really had no idea what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised when they announced that I was going to be getting an ultrasound. It was so odd. She pointed out my "little pumpkin". The head, the arms. The tiny little legs. The heart beat. I just felt happiness. I felt wonder. There really is a little baby inside of me. A baby that at just 11 weeks in utero had my heart doing flip flops and my eyes filling with tears. I couldn't stop smiling. It was even better when I got home and showed Mike the pictures. <br />
<br />
I'm feeling better physically. I have bad days that are getting fewer the closer I get to my second trimester. I'm getting excited. Feeling more peaceful. Still have moments of being extremely overwhelmed but I'm working on it.<br />
<br />
That's what's been going on with me for the past 8 weeks. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-34953049707994803832013-04-30T15:16:00.001-04:002013-04-30T15:16:09.589-04:00Some tidbits.<br />
I like coleslaw but I love claussen pickles. I dropped a jar of them as soon as I got them into the house the other day. It saddened me.<br />
<br />
We had a rough month financially. I wonder how many people still run out of money in their checking account. Like, minus money. Minus money is one of the most frustrating things to me because you get charged more money for having no money. It's maddening. <br />
<br />
Crabapple trees are pretty but a pain in the ass. There are always copious amounts of rotten apples on the ground in front of our house. We clean them up but it's like they are multiplying. It smells like rotten fruit. Not a fan.<br />
<br />
I've been trying more recipes from Pinterest. I have about 1000 pins so I thought I would try some. Some are good. Some aren't good. I wonder if I am doing things wrong or if people really think this crappy food is tasty.<br />
<br />
It peeves me when people describe something as melt in your mouth when in fact, it cannot melt in your mouth. Someone describe chicken as melt in your mouth. It infuriated me.<br />
<br />
I took an iced tea brewer off of Chris and Laura's hands. They were going to goodwill it. I am obsessed with making sweet Irish breakfast iced tea. I always write ice tea then go back and fix it. It's because I don't say ICED tea.<br />
<br />
Who actually says FOREHEAD? I say farhead. that's weird.<br />
<br />
<br />merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-22592454058189734712013-04-23T18:58:00.002-04:002013-04-23T18:58:38.437-04:00PS. I'm feeling better. Just wanted to say that. merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-47133982235881899112013-04-22T16:55:00.001-04:002013-04-22T16:55:15.730-04:00Part twoSo anyway, I am discouraged. Things aren't working out with being employed by my grandmother. The dynamics aren't good. I am not going to go into details but for the second time she treated me in an abusive way and I can't handle it. I think the reason I feel so discouraged is that I haven't found anything that is a good fit both financially and emotionally. I am at my best when I am doing massage in a stress free environment. Primarily, going to people's houses that I know and giving them great massages. Problem is not too many people I know want/can afford massages right now. I was really feeling like a failure. Still kind of am. But a big part of me wants to scream, IT'S NOT MY FAULT, DAMMIT! My whole life I have been saying that things aren't my fault because frankly, I have blamed for a shitload of stuff that wasn't my fault. Of course, I am at fault sometimes. I know that. I make mistakes and usually see my part to blame eventually. However, in a lot of cases, this one in particular, it really isn't my fault. Anyway, a great friend of mine called to check on me because she read that I was having a tough day on facebook. I explained that I feel horrible that I can't seem to keep a job. I get really stressed out and basically just have a huge breakdown. I have had jobs for years before but eventually they stop working. Some jobs I've kept months, some weeks. The point is, they all end for one reason it another. This frustrate me. It always seems to happen when Mike says to me that we need more money. I'm like, "ok, I'm on it". Then I promptly lose my job. My friend commiserated. She has had a similar issue. She says it's the way that we are made. That took a load off. However, Isn't there a type of job that's good for people made like me?Ok, so, in order for me to not hate myself I am going to list the things I know about myself and not see them as negatives. It's hard but I have to believe there is something for me.<br />
<br />
1. I am kind but hate when people are mean to me so sometimes I can get a little snippy.<br />
2. I have a good sense of humor most of the time.<br />
3. I love animals but get really sad and overwhelmed when I see them without homes or suffering in someway.<br />
4. I love to write but not always and I am not always good at it.<br />
5. I love to sing but have stage fright and who can make money at that anyway?<br />
6. I love to create but only when I am in the mood and I think most of what I create is crap.<br />
7. I am a great massage therapist but hate not having control over who I massage, when and for how much.<br />
8. I am not good at self promotion or charging people what I am worth.<br />
9. I'm not a huge fan of people in general.<br />
10. I love nature but hate manual labor or being really hot or really cold.<br />
11. I like making people happy but not when they are being mean to me or trying to pull something over on me.<br />
12. I am good at taking care of people unless they poop on the ground, poop in their pants, or call me dummy repeatedly.<br />
13. I love being with little kids if they aren't jerk, which a lot of them are.<br />
14. I am a mediocre homemaker. <br />
15. I think I would be a great mom but maybe not. Also, you don't make money at that. also, it doesn't seem to be working out anyway.<br />
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Wow, maybe I just really suck at working. I know I have good qualities but not when I need them most. I don't feel any better. Damn.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-44984902623976136552013-04-22T10:36:00.000-04:002013-04-22T10:36:03.375-04:00In a ditchSometime life feels great. Sometimes it feels really horrible and uncomfortable. Right now I feel like it is the latter. I was rolling down the road of life with the top down and music blaring. Warm breeze and sun on my skin and feeling really content. Then, boom, suddenly I find myself in a ditch on the side of the road. Things are rough right now. Monetarily, we are struggling. It's probably no worse than it has been before, maybe even a little better but financial stress just feels so scary and bad. It stresses your body and your mind and seeps into all aspects of your life. It takes a toll on relationships and it casts a gloomy doomy cloud over things. I feel like I am in that ditch with the wheels spinning and no way to get out. I'm overwhelmed with writing right now so I will finish later. I will publish this so I don't forget about it.<br />
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<br />merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-36674497767005579892013-04-07T17:15:00.001-04:002013-04-07T17:15:07.823-04:00Sorry, guys. I will apologize in advance because basically, I am going to bitch. If you aren't in the mood for someone to rain on your parade or send the blue bird of happiness to poop on your head then please stop reading. I just have to get this out. I am feeling horribly. Like, hormonally horrible. If you have had raging hormones then you KNOW what I mean and if you KNOW what I mean, then sorry my sister in horribleness. If you have read this blog for years than you know that I used to have horrible issues with my um, menses. Wait, is that just your very first period? I think it is. I didn't have a problem with that. Well, it did seem kind of late because I was in 7th grade and my best friend had hers in 4th grade. Hmm, I guess she was the one with the problematic Menses. Oh and the other problem I had was MORTIFICATION because I came out of the girls bathroom and whispered in Darby's ear, "um, I think I just got my period". Hoping she would, I don't know, discreetly give me some words of wisdom or at least a pad. Instead I got, loudly and in front of a LOT of people, "WELCOME TO WOMANHOOD!!" Um, thanks. Anywhoodle, where was I? That is another problem I am having. My memory/brain function is not normal. I am foggy. Oh, no Buddy, I wasn't calling you. Figgy just starting meowing because I said foggy out loud. Poor little dude. Ok so, figgybrainfunctionperiod. Right my period. I used to have a lot of problem. It was irregular and then would come for like a month straight in really biblical proportions. Like, I needed Moses to part it, if you know what I am saying...cause it was the red sea? Get it? Ok, it's gross. Moving on. Well, since surgery my period has been regular( give or take a few days). It's been almost a year. Then last month I had it pretty lightly for two days and then nothing and now I am 6 days late. It feels tortuous. I'm terrified because I am experiencing all these weird symptoms and think maybe I am dying. Maybe it is cancer or something terminal. Here are the symptoms. Extreme moodiness. Foggy brain. Memory issues. Clumsiness. memory issues. (ok, I threw that in there again as a joke) extreme fatigue and nauseousness. Now before you said, "Um, are you pregnant." I must tell you that I am not pregnant. Not only have I been unable to conceive for 7 years but I took a pregnancy test and it said negs. PLUS, let's just say that this particular month it would literally be a miracle of I got pregnant. So, I feel like I am going to flip out. I will repeat. I AM EXTREMELY MOODY AND VOLATILE RIGHT NOW. The End.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-70427847301083399142013-04-03T15:24:00.000-04:002013-04-04T16:45:53.296-04:00I just heard some news that a guy, that many people I know knew well at one point, killed himself on Sunday. It's strange for me. I know this circumstance is not at all about me and I am not trying to make it be but this is my blog so I will just be honest, as usual. This guy, named Steven or Steve, went to Wilmington Christian School and was a grade ahead of me. My sister in law Judy was good friends with him and when I was in tenth grade I was good friends with his good friends but I only interacted with him a few times. To be honest, the interactions were never good. This isn't saying anything about who he was because like I said, I didn't know him well. It could have been my fault completely or it could have been that we just didn't jive. Who cares, you know? Other people thought he was a great guy. Other people knew him and loved him. I guess the thing that I can't wrap my head around is that he actually killed himself. I've known a few other people that have. Mainly friends of friends. People I have met once or twice. My grandmother's mother killed herself. I know some people that have tried unsuccessfully. The thing that is weird for me is that I have been extremely depressed before. I have been laying on the ground drooling and not being able to move from the kind of depression that literally knocks me to the ground and keeps me there. I've been so depressed that I am literally drunk all day everyday for weeks at a time. I've contemplated dying. I've contemplated making that happen. I've thought about how would be the least painless, most effective way. The thing that has always stopped me is the people who love me. I know there are people in my life who would be completely destroyed. People who would not recover from that. People who just couldn't live a normal life. People who's death would obliterate me. It's so easy for me to think that people who kill themselves are selfish but it's not fair to think that way. When you are suicidal you really can't see past your own pain. You talk yourself into thinking that others would be better off without you. That people would recover and go on with their life. Thing is...they won't. No matter who you are there is someone somewhere who will be devastated by your loss. Anyway, I feel like my thoughts are weird and jumbled. I wanted to get this out, though. merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-67449810756755435112013-04-01T15:47:00.002-04:002013-04-10T12:40:02.710-04:00Hello again. and other things.It's April first.I have horrible PMS. I am not joking. and I actually hate April Fool's jokes. I hate jokes that make me or others feel stupid. Call me a dud. Go ahead. Call me a dud. But I will probably call you an asshole. Well, this is going swimmingly so far. Sorry if I scared you off. No, I actually am not. That wasn't an April Fool's joke. It was just a lie. I'm grumpy. I've been doing so well for so long but haven't written about it. Then I come back to write many months later and I crap all over the page. Sorry. I have crap on the mind. I'll be really honest. I have been dealing with literal crap a lot lately. I work for this little old lady who may or may not be related to me. She will remain nameless. She is 90 and doing pretty darn well. She is living alone and requires someone to come in daily for two hours in the morning and two hours at night. This job works pretty well for me. I don't usually have to deal with people besides her. That is great because frankly, I am not a huge fan of people. This use to bug me about myself but recently I have come to terms with the fact that some people just do not play well with others.Let's take a rabbit trail here. I'm burned out on assholes. I burned out on selfish people with major issues that are incompatible with my major issues. I have very little tolerance for assholery and ohmygoodlord there is SO much of it everywhere. I started getting the grumpies when we first moved to Tacony. The grumpies turned into misanthropy and then turned into down right hate. Leaving the city has been fantastic for me. A little less trash and a little less noise can really do wonders for a girl. Then I took a job working with crazies. I don't mean crazies in the mentally ill sense because although the population was all psychiatric patients the crazies weren't always mentally ill. They were drug addicts who were flipping out because they couldn't get their uppers and downers when they wanted them. OR their kids were on meds to help them maintain and the parents could not handle one day with their child off of their meds. I lasted a few months before I made the realization that someone who isn't a fan of people shouldn't be working in customer service. Anyway, that brings me back to this current job. Hours are great. Lots of alone time. Lots of freedom. Lots of poop. Which kind of puts a damper on things. Ah, just looked at the time. I have to leave for said job but am going to publish this. Otherwise, I will never get back to it.<br />
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And now I'm back. from Outer space. I just walked in to find you there with that sad look upon your face. I didn't really. Again, a lie. NOT an April Fool's joke. Well the job. Care taking is hard work. It's really draining emotionally and physically. I am not complaining. It's just the facts, Mam.Speaking of Mam, as my dear mother is called by my fantastic niece and nephew. Actually, Just the one niece. The other niece calls her Mimi and the OTHER niece doesn't call her a damn thing cause she is like three weeks old. BUT speaking of Mam/Mimi/what have you, she really saved my ass today. my much much smaller ass. Let's take another rabbit trail. I can't remember how much weight I had lost since I last wrote but as of now from surgery I've lost 116 lbs since the surgery. 133 from my highest weight. and feeling really good. Well, usually. Today I feel like crap because of the PMS. Oh yeah, crap. Ok, so this fancy little Granny I work for has a smallishly large issue with not always making it to the bathroom in time. The OTHER rather unfortunate thing is that she denies that it happens 9 times out of 10. The SUPER DE DUPER unfortunate thing is that the blessed one time that she will admit to needing depends and agrees to wear them she flicking forgets that she agreed to wear them approximately 5 minutes later. She has Dementia. Strangely selective dementia. She remembers some things and somethings float right the hell out of her mind almost as soon as they enter. So, there is this woman who doesn't make it to the toilet and sadly, quite often leaves a turdy surprise to be cleaned up. Then when I say, "Hey, let's get one of this awesome depends on". She says, "Oh, I don't need depends". I then launch into a speech about the fact that she does. I try to be light hearted at first. "hey when I'm 90 I'll be wearing depends 24/7. " I try to blame it on the diabetes. " This is perfectly normal and nothing to be embarrassed by". I even try to make her feel better with ,"We all poop our pants sometimes". If she finally agrees to wearing the depends I go to the room to get it. When I bring it out to her I get, " I don't need a depends". Back to square one.She's getting better about wearing them in the morning. But sometimes bad stuff happens before she gets it on. Why doesn't she sleep in one?, you ask. Please see above scenario. Today there was a massive turdy surprise. I haven't been feeling well lately and hard as I tried I just could not stop gagging. Gagging to the point of crying and having a panic attack. I had to call my Mommy/Mam/Mimi/ what have you and she so kindly came to clean up the poo. I have never had this big of an issue so it was really really kind of her. So, that's my story about why crap is on the brain. Even though I am not a fan of the poop I really don't hate the job.Some days are great and some days are shitty. Literally. But isn't life just kind of like that? So for now, I am thankful for the job because frankly I'd rather deal with her shit than with other's. merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-83606976363573942402012-08-31T15:20:00.003-04:002013-04-03T12:11:06.484-04:00Changes<br />
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I realized something about myself. I have a love/hate relationship with change. I always say I hate change but it seems that I always trying to create change when there is none to be had. Then when things start to change I start getting really stressed and just want things to stay as they are. It's weird and stupid. Right now things are changing and there isn't much I can do to stop it. I don't actually want to stop it. It just feels scary to be going through it.<br />
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Mike is starting school. As I type this he is in his first class.{I actually started this post a few days ago so it is no longer his first day.} I feel like a nervous mom and her kindergartener's first day of school. I sent him notes during the day. I love you. Have a great first day. I am so proud of you. I want to protect him from people who might be mean to him. I want to protect him from the chance that he might not do well. I am sure he will. He is a smart guy. He is hardworking. I used to think that is all that you needed to be successful in life. Hopefully this will be all he needs in order to do well in school.<br />
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Hallelujah, we are moving out of Philadelphia. I remember 5 years ago when we moved I was terrified to be moving to the city. I kept thinking that we were going to have to live in a ghetto place with lots of crime and noise. For the first year we lived in a nice little apartment that was actually really quiet and nice. I thought, the city isn't bad. Oh how naive I was. It wasn't so bad because we weren't in the city. We lived about as far northeast as you can get about a street away from Bucks Co. We were in Philadelphia by name only. We ended up buying a really cute house on a not cute street. There are streets just a bit over that are really lovely. Our street just kind of sucks as far as inconsiderate loud, trashy people are concerned. Still, I love our little house and I will miss it. A few things that I am looking forward to in the new house: Central air. A dishwasher. Laundry on the first floor. A half bath on the first floor. CLOSETS. Not being so far away from our friends and some of our family.<br />
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I assume I will be getting another job soon. That will be good for money but always a little stressful.<br />
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I'm so happy that it is labor day weekend and that tomorrow is September. I adore the fall and it always makes me feel happy.<br />
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That's all for now. merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-37437842817317140462012-07-16T12:56:00.003-04:002012-07-16T12:56:46.303-04:00My mind is a messy place these days. It flits from one thought to the next barely landing on one before moving on to the next. When I stay too long on one thought I feel overwhelmed and frightened at the uncertainty of the future. I want to be at peace. It's ridiculous that I ever feel at peace. There is no real assurances in my life. Nothing seems to last forever. Most of the things I place my trust in give me a false sense of security. So why not just choose to have peace all the time? I do know that I can place my trust in God but even the old things that used to bring me comfort confuse and dishearten me. I try to read the Bible and it makes little sense. I don't have the wisdom to understand the contradictions. I don't know what part to believe. Do I choose to believe the whole thing is the living word of God and have it conflict with my conscience about social issues? Do I believe that the original text was truth but man has made error in translation over these many years? What parts are valid for today? What parts were cultural and for a specific time?<br />
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I ponder these things and then must put them on the shelf to look at later.<br />
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<br />merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-63806186508281408212012-06-10T13:48:00.000-04:002012-06-10T13:48:26.129-04:00LearningSo, things are weird when you aren't use to your new body. You aren't really sure what you can eat, when you will have to go to the bathroom or what you can do. I found out that I can't actually walk about a mile in the 93 degree heat, watch a baseball game with 13 innings and then walk the mile back without passing out. I thought I had plenty to drink but I know I didn't eat enough yesterday. I was half way back to the car when I had to just stop. Mike said he would come back for me but traffic was so bad that after a half an hour I started to feel that familiar feeling of, " uh-oh, I am going to either throw up or wait, no, I am actually going to pass out."It's like this tingly feeling all over the body. Then I feel dizzy and start to fade out and everything goes white. I lowered myself down to the concrete and then a lady was asking me if I was ok. She called three cops over. I felt pretty stupid but I felt really sick. I didn't have my phone with me so one of the officers called Mike to see how far away he is. He said, "Mike, this officer______. Yeah, man it's the cops!" I thought it was hilarious that he said that. He was joking around with me and then after he walked me to Mike he said, "You can't say that we don't treat you right when you come to Baltimore". I laughed and agreed that a Philly cop probably wouldn't have been so nice. Anyway, live and learn.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-25676301328586476472012-06-06T15:11:00.001-04:002012-06-06T15:11:12.168-04:006 weeks outFeeling normal. It feels great. This past weekend Mike and I made the 9 hour drive to Ohio for our friend, Paul's, 40th birthday surprise. We were the surprise. His wife, Sonya knew. She was the one who wanted to surprise him.It was nice that he liked the surprise. Paul and Mike have been friends since elementary school and he was very close with them as a couple while he lived in Cincinnati for three years. Their kids call him Uncle Mike and now they call me Aunt Merry. I think that is cute.<br />
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I wasn't going to go at first because I thought the trip would be too much for me. It wasn't and I had a great time. On Saturday night a bunch of close friends of Paul and Sonya had a party for him. I thought I would feel strange but they were all some of the nicest people I have ever met. I was even able to eat what they had made for dinner. It was super great.<br />
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I started swimming again and that feels good too. I feel like I am feeling healed. Things are getting easier. I am feeling happy.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-62231287225653053992012-05-23T13:46:00.001-04:002012-05-23T13:46:12.373-04:001 month outSo tomorrow will mark 1 month since my surgery. I am feeling a bit more normal which is what I continue to crave. I want to feel good, of course, I want to lose weight, of course, I want to be healthy, of COURSE but want I really want is to feel like my life is normal again.<br />
For a girl who has a hard time adjusting to shocks to the system, physically and emotionally, this surgery has been a doooooooozie. First the physical aspect. I was cut and rearranged and things were removed. Muscle was cut and IVS, portals, tubes and drains were put in. I didn't sleep much for the first two weeks and it's quite easy to get dehydrated which I believe I almost was a few times. Mike had to give me shots for two weeks. Thank God we don't have to do that anymore. The pain was intense at times as were the intestinal issues.I still get lightheaded and tired and have to take vitamins and medicines that taste horrible. Emotionally, it's been even tougher. Before the surgery food was a huge part of my life. When I was sad or lonely ,bored ,depressed ,tired or happy, I would eat. We ate for entertainment and for the experience. It was so comforting to me to just sit down after a tough day and eat some of my favorite foods. I was addicted to sugar. Now I can't do that. I can't use food as a drug. I have to deal with every little thing that I am feeling and man I feel A LOT. Plus, I have used the weight as another security blanket. Over the years the blanket got too hot and heavy but it was who I thought I was, I didn't want to let go.I regretted the surgery as soon as it got tough...so day one. I am just now starting to remember why I wanted it in the first place. I feel better physically. My body doesn't hurt nearly as much as it did before surgery even my fibromyalgia isn't as bad. I love that my clothes are looser. For a girl who wants nothing but comfort it is nice to feel more comfortable. Anyway, that's how I feel right now.<br />
<br />merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-86036544003997202322012-05-10T12:02:00.001-04:002012-05-10T12:02:19.787-04:00Well, it has been two weeks today since I got my surgery and I would say that I am doing really well with my recovery. The first week was really rough. Lots of pain both inside and out and other not so pleasant things. I still am taking blood thinner shots in my belly every night which is rough but only have until Saturday. Then no more "pokes" as Senya says. Speaking of Sen, she sent me an adorable video greeting saying that she was sorry I had to get "lots of pokes". She knew that pokes hurt because she never has forgotten her shots. Such an adorable, smart and funny girl. I love her.<br />
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Mike has been really fantastic during all of this. I mean, I expect nothing less because he is always great but he has just been such a help during this time. He spent the nights curled up on a cot in the hospital room with me and made sure that I got everything I wanted or needed, including a fan to block out noise. <br />
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I would say right now the hardest thing for me to do is to take all the medication I am supposed to be taking. primarily because I can't swallow big pills so everything has to be chewable(yuck) or opened/crushed and consumed(triple yuck).<br />
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Anyway, that's all for now.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-51109727474270292522012-04-18T12:04:00.006-04:002012-04-18T18:41:04.326-04:00weight liftedWell, I am finally getting what I have always wanted. A chance to be thin. I mean, ever since I can remember my number one wish was to lose weight. When I blew out my birthday candles. When I wished on a shooting star. I even remember in 1oth grade getting m&ms from the vending machine each morning and wishing to be thin on the green ones. Apparently that was a thing back then. I haven't heard of people wishing on green m&ms recently. Anyway, i thought my dreams would come true if I could just be thin. I don't know why I thought that. I also don't know what would have been thin enough to be considered thin.<br /><br />I read a lot of people who have stories about their weight loss journey and they say things like, "I was always the fat kid". I would say that too except looking back at pictures, I was actually NOT a fat kid. Or a fat teenager. But someone told me I was, so I believed them. Actually, a lot of people told me I was. So, why wouldn't I believe them? I had a bit of a belly and my thighs were kind of chubby but I wasn't a fat kid. In fact, there are pictures were I look down right skinny. So, why did I always get the fat jokes? Why was I called fat and ugly by boys. Well, ok, compared to Darby who had the stick kind of body I guess I did look chubs. I was put on diets a lot and kept from eating sugary foods. I was dressed in dowdy 40 year old lady clothes because I guess my mom was thinking if I had a mature body I should dress like her? I don't actually know. I know that even when I was thin a lot of the junior clothes didn't fit because of my curves. Maybe that was why I was dressed the way I was. I really don't understand why I lived as a fat girl. I remember thinking I was fat in 8th grade and one of the popular girls said to me, "Look, your legs are the same size as mine are, you are not fat". I recently saw a picture of me in a bathing suit in I guess 8th or 9th grade and I looked like a pin up girl. It was this cute little black and hot pink polka dot with a heart shaped neckline. Yet I was so embarrassed by my "fat" body that I basically wore a shirt the whole time.<br /><br />I didn't actually gain a lot of weight until after high school. I think I was 20 when I really became an obese person. I hate the word obese. GOD, I HATE THAT WORD. Oh and then there is morbidly obese. You are so fat you should just die. Or you are so fat you will die. Then, there is super morbidly obese. Like, wow she is like SUPER fat. The medical community loves to label you. The first thing on your chart before anything else is OBESITY. And, I know people have said this before but Doctors will do virtually nothing for a fat person. They will take no complaint seriously and will chalk everything up to your weight. I wasn't diagnosed with Fibromyalgia until I went to an awesome rheumatalogist who actually did the testing. Before when I told my many PCPs that I have debilitating pain and fatigue they would dismiss it as being cause by my weight. Oh, and the depression? fat related. Really? Even though depression runs in my family going back to my great grandmother who actually killed herself? yep, it is just because you are fat. Oh, ok. I literally go to the doctor about once a year because I cannot deal with the fact that everything is obesity related in their mind. Ok, moving on.<br /><br />Oh hey, this retard nigger pollock chink fag came up to me the other day. Oh wait, is that offensive? HELL yes. I would be burned at the stake for saying that. However for some reason fat jokes are still ok.It's ok to use apps like fatify to see how funny it would be if you were fat. Movies and shows have no problem using fat suits to make someone look "hilarious" because they are fat. Oh, and the overweight people always break their seats or eat huge amounts of food or smell or fart or are just completely disgusting. It is what the world thinks of overweight people.<br /><br />The point to all of this is that I am fucking tired of it. I want to be healthy and not mess my body up but most of all I want to be normal. I want to not be a joke. I know it will be a long road and tough and painful but nothing can be as painful as the shit I have had to take as a fat person.<br /><br />That's all for now. Wait, no it isn't. I haven't let myself feel this anger at the world or people that I know for, well, ever. So here it goes:<br /><br />I hate the fact that I wore a girdle all through high school. I hate the fact that older men leered at me and said horrible things to me and made me feel gross because I looked like a woman when I was a kid. I hate that because when I was little and looked like a woman none of the boys my age thought I was normal. Oh sure, they liked the boobs. It was ok to call me fat and then grab my boobs and butt because after all, boys will be boys. Or so I was told by two principles when I had the nerve to say something. I hate the fact that when I was in 1oth grade Mr. Strickland, and fuck Yes, I will use his name, the BIBLE teacher told me that I could be a model if only I had my sister's body. That is wrong and disgusting on so many levels. I hate the fact that another BIBLE teacher, Tim Rodkey, again, deserves to be called out by name, kept me after class everyday to make me "pick up paper". These mysteries wads of paper would end up on the floor of his classroom and he would make me clean them up everyday. Just me. He would sit at his desk and watch and say things like, "why don't you ever wear pants"? and I'll give you an A if you sit on my lap? How about just a kiss on the cheek? When I resisted his advances he got really angry and said that I had crossed a line. This was the epitome of the confusion I had growing up. I was told I was ugly and fat yet men were always coming on to me. Looking at my chest and butt. I was some weird mixture of horrible yet desirable. How does a young girl deal with this attention? I had teachers tell me, "you have such a beautiful face, if only you would lose weight" If only I would lose weight. Like I was trying to be fat. Like I was lazy and just wanted to sit around all day. I had no idea how to lose the weight? I walked for exercise everyday. My mother controlled my eating. Yet I had these damn curves that were just unacceptable. That was me. UNACCEPTABLE. I began to hate myself. Loathe my body.I just wanted to hide myself away from everyone's view. Yet, I craved attention too. I craved reassurance and love. I wanted someone to tell me I was beautiful and not just my grandfather, who always was so encouraging.<br /><br />As I got older I started to eat more and more. Usually, I waited for my parents to go to bed and would eat "my dad's ice cream". Since I wasn't allowed to have it and would get in trouble if I ate it I worked out this plan of skimming about an inch off the top and smooshing the lid back sown so it looked like I didn't take any. I would binge eat anything I could get my hands on. It felt amazing. The rebellion of eating when and what I wasn't supposed to. The actual textures and smells and feeling of the food in my mouth and going down my throat, filling that hole in my stomach and heart.<br /><br />As I started to drive I would go to fast food places and order meals. Even when I wasn't hungry. I would go to the store and stash candy in my room and in my car. I remember when I was in college I bought bags of hershey's nuggets with almonds and just lie on my bed and eat them without leaving my room for hours.<br /><br />As I started gaining weight the leering stopped. The touching and grabbing stopped. I was hiding or being hidden underneath this layer of insulation. I was glad yet horrified that i was being swallowed up by fat. Eventually, I just resigned myself to being hidden. You can't see the real me so you can't reject the real me. You don't know me so you can't hate me.<br /><br />In my early 20's I moved in with my two best friends. I ate nothing but pizza, chinese food and taco bell. I also started making myself throw up. It made me feel less guilty and more in control, though I didn't actually lose any weight. It lasted for a few months until my sister and roommates called me on it. I started drinking and smoking pot. Anything to dull the pain that I felt inside. Fading the years of feeling worthless and detestable.<br /><br />I have struggled. Not just with oh, I'm having a hard time saying no to these cookies. I mean tortured, really. I have wanted to kill myself many times and tried once or twice.<br /><br />Overweight people are not always just people who eat too much. Sometimes we are suffering and struggling with things that have happened in our past. Or have a medical condition that keeps us from being a healthy weight. We are not fat because we want to be. We aren't just lazy and we don't all eat huge amounts of food. It is not funny to us when people make jokes. I don't care if it is about someone's momma or Fat Monica on friends. Everyone has issues. Sadly, we wear ours for everyone to see.<br /><br />So now, I have had to deal with these issues of mine. Now that I am being given the gift of weight loss surgery I will not be hidden anymore. This scares me more than most other things. The only thing that scares me more is staying hidden for the rest of my life.<br /><br />Someone discouragingly said that weight loss surgery is the easy way out. It sure hasn't been easy so far. I have had to deal with a lifetime of issues and will continue to do so for the rest of my life. I will be giving up my self comforting. All of the things I do now for comfort will be stripped from me. No sugar or carbs or alcohol. I will only be able to eat a small amount of food and mainly liquids for the first 2 months. I will have to take protein supplements and many vitamins for the rest of my life.Does that sound easy to you? It sounds pretty hard to me.<br /><br />I believe I can do it. I know I can. I am being courageous. I am have the guts to change something about myself that I want to change. I am letting myself believe that the unknown is going to be more good than bad and that I can truly have the life I want to have.<br /><br />Thanks for reading. I am not going to check for typos because I usually end up erasing all of what I wrote and I want to get this out there.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-3568424072851454982012-02-22T17:34:00.002-05:002012-02-22T17:53:53.588-05:00HooraySo for those of you who don't know, and frankly I believe there are only maybe 3 people who read this bog and therefore you DO know, I have been wanting to get weight loss surgery ever since I heard about it about 12 years ago. I never had insurance that would cover it which was always extremely discouraging to me.<br />In fact, about three years ago I thought our insurance would cover it so I went to a long information class where I was told I would die if I didn't get weight loss surgery. I thought and then said," Well, sign me up!". My excitement was short lived as I was told again that my surgery would not be covered by my insurance. You will die if you get this surgery but you can't get the surgery. I thought it was so cruel. I left feeling discouraged and morbidly obese in all senses of the phrase.<br /><br />However, When Mike got the U of D job in November I immediately got on the ball. I made sure that we picked the plan that specifically covered weight loss surgery so I would not have any questions about being approved. I immediately started the process. Now when I say process I mean, sincerly one of the most tedious and painful processes that I can imagine. Every test you can imagine.Ultrasounds, x rays, psychiatric testing, pulmonary testing, sleep testing, an endoscopy, an ARTERIAL BLOOD GAS and yes, even a rectal exam. All this on top of what seemed like gallons of blood being taken out. All the tests came back normal and I was told time and again that I was an excellent candidate for surgery .However, we couldn't submit it to the insurance company until I had 90 days of nutrition counseling. Finally, on February 17th I finished my class nutrition appointment and I was submitted for approval. Yesterday, while out with a who was encouraging me that things will look up soon,I got a call saying that I had BEEN APPROVED!!!!! Thank the LORD JESUS. Now, the surgery is set for May 17th unless they get a cancellation. So, that's my story. Dreams do come true.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-32693276804744717592012-02-08T16:36:00.003-05:002012-02-08T16:46:15.303-05:00OceansI guess it was almost 7 years ago that my new boyfriend encouraged me to start blogging. That boyfriend is now my husband and it seems so odd that I have had this blog for that long. When I look back a the things I have written I get a sense of dramatic change in my life even though it doesn't seem like things have changed so much. It's a weird feeling like looking at pictures of when you were younger and you don't actually remember getting older or fatter or thinner or whatever.<br />Anyway, things have changed for sure.<br /><br />I feel like so many more things will change soon. I just feel it in the ol' bones if ya know what I mean. Kind of like the 7 year itch, maybe. Except, hopefully, it will not include one or both of us having an affair, since that is what the 7 year itch really is about. What am I talking about? Anyway, I hope things will change for the good.<br /><br />Here's something. It's been waaaaay too long since aunt flow has come to visit if you catch my drift. This has happened before and it is tortuous. The PMS literally feels like torture. I'm sure Mike feels tortured too. I hope it doesn't lead to the 7 year itch. Here I go again. I'll stop now.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-37339450644344378102012-01-29T14:14:00.002-05:002012-01-29T14:28:07.003-05:00shedding skinYou know, I wonder. I wonder if it hurts when an animal sheds it's skin. Or hurts a tree when it loses it's leaves. Maybe not physically but I wonder if they ever have a sense of loss. I guess that they don't but who really knows. It isn't like they can be asked. I feel like I am shedding skin or losing my leaves a bit and it really doesn't feel good at all. In fact, it hurts really badly. I am shedding friends. Relationships. Past behaviors. It is not fun and feels really uncomfortable.<br /><br />I have had friends for awhile that I felt slipping away. I have been going in a different direction and noticed that we just don't have much in common anymore. These people I have cared about for so long but I can tell that they just don't really care about me anymore. I have been replaced. Maybe not intentionally but I have been just the same. I hear about thing that I would have been invited to awhile ago but wasn't this year. I see pictures of happy faces perfectly content with my absence. It hurts yet it feels right. When I do spend time with these people it is clear that I am not fitting in. I can't/don't drink to get drunk anymore and I feel like I have the same conversations with the same people I have had 50 times before. I'm no fun when they are with them because I am not having any fun and I can't pretend like I am. They are having fun with people that I just don't like.<br /><br />The thing is I wish I could just say, " hey guys, I understand that we aren't really friends anymore so let's kind of just say goodbye so there is closure". <br /><br />Anyway...that's that.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12097705.post-36019118055089386802011-10-24T13:26:00.001-04:002011-10-24T13:26:45.164-04:00OctoberWell, things have been up in there are for what seems like forever and though the pieces are slowly falling into place, I have a feeling <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">that</span> I won't feel <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">settled</span> for awhile.<br /><br />We were praying for what seemed like forever for mike to get a permanent job with good benefits. That prayer was graciously answered and he now is working back in Delaware which provides some really cool possibilities.<br /><br />First, the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">possibility</span> of moving back to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Delaware</span> is more than a little attractive. With so many of the people I love moving to California I feel like I need to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">circle</span> the wagons around myself a little. What that basically means is moving <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">closer</span> to people I love and hope and pray and beg and plead that they do not leave me. Pathetic? Probably, but I'm cool with that. I am not happy with my sisters and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">nieces</span> and nephew being across the country and now, to add insult to injury someone else I dearly dearly love has broken the news that she is most probably moving to L.A. too. Damn it all. Part of me wants to say, SCREW THIS S, and just move out there myself. But why? For what? My loved ones are there because of the dream of breaking into Hollywood. Not really my dream. It's so expensive to live out there that it just doesn't make sense because the only <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">reason</span> to move would be to be with people I love. Good reason but it seems so impractical. Plus, Mike just got the job in Delaware.<br /><br />Now, in order for us to move to Delaware we need to sell this house. Seems like a huge insurmountable thing. I need to find a job down there and we need to you know, move. Stressful.<br />God has been very faithful and I know he will continue to be. Even things don't always happen quickly I always get what I want even if it isn't what I thought I wanted in the first place.<br /><br />The other possibilities opening up are particularly exciting to me personally because the benefits we will be getting will cover some procedures that I have been looking into and wanting desperately for years. I am really hoping those things work out because they really would be my dreams coming true.<br /><br />Well, that's all for now.merryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08941889152545287816noreply@blogger.com1