in review {2011}

in the year 2011

we had...

a big move across the country

our first family vacation experience

our car breakdown

lots of date nights with my husband:)

and we...

moved into our home

experienced our first (and hopefully last!) ambulance ride

spent a few days in the hospital with the baby

(thanks a lot RSV)

started preschool

turned one

celebrated weddings and babies being born

it was a hard year, but it was a really happy one too.

One of the things I'll treasure most is the moment that came sometime in December.

When I realized that I am ok.
Something clicked into place when I accepted myself.

I see my potential.

I'm more comfortable with my imperfections.

I love me.

My body isn't the enemy.

I am not the enemy.

I had gotten so caught up in being "good" or "bad" that I lost sight of WHY I was trying to make changes.

 I don't need to loath everything I am now in order to drive myself to become the person I want to be.

Even if I never lost another pound I know that I have worth as a person, but I know I haven't taken care of my body and that's going to take a lot of work to undo the damage.

I hope you'll follow along :)

Here's to a happy and healthy 2012!

{where i'm at}

I have been avoiding this blog.
And much of the Internet, truth be told.
You could add family and friends to the list too.
My rut eventually formed a big 'ol hole that I found myself crying at the bottom of.
Depression is hard to cope with. It's rotten, because it feels like no one understands or even cares to. It's lonely. Battling yourself, truly loathing yourself at times for no other reason than just being you are (or aren't) is torture. And knowing your are doing it to yourself, making yourself miserable is a hard place to come out of. Even when you know you have so much to happy and grateful for.

I have dealt with depression for most of my life, and ironically most of my life I've been completely unaware of it. It's much like a slow creeping fog that gradually seeps into every part of your life. At least that's how it's been for me.

I spent a long time feeling isolated, feeling so incredibly lonely that I found myself praying for friendships that could help heal some of my broken heart. But the honestly, I pushed people away. I was terrified of rejection. Having my mom leave when I was younger was the ultimate rejection and I couldn't bring myself to open up again. My heart just couldn't handle anymore hurt. Yet I hurt myself every day. I would tell myself the most vicious lies, slowly tearing myself apart. Over the last couple of weeks I've found myself in that dark place again. I have been hurting myself by pushing everyone away, telling myself that I am worthless, feeding myself lies and unhealthy foods. I lost the ability to feel truly happy, my smiles feel more forced and I stopped finding those brief moments of joy that make the not so fun times worth it. I just couldn't see them. Everything just felt hard and heavy and bleak.

I don't know anymore, which came first, the depression or the self destructive behavior. It's a vicious cycle. But I do know this: I have knowledge. I have a choice, lots of choices, to make every day. My imperfections do not make me worthless. And I deserve to be happy, like, truly happy again.

So I'm starting over. I'm going to pull up my big girl panties and push away the negative thoughts and start making some different choices. And I'm going to work on being nice to me too.

If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to hear a little piece of my story. I know this blog has been a whole lot heavy lately and I want to change that too. But it's important for me to share my whole journey, even when it isn't pretty. So check back soon for more regular, and hopefully more helpful posts.

12 years

It will be 12 years this coming Thursday. Mother's Day is usually the hardest, but a little more sweet than bitter, now that I have my own children. I spent most of this morning just feeling very sad for no particular reason...until I realized that I felt incrediably lonely, as if no one in the world cares about me. My eyes watered, but I wasn't really crying, they were involentary tears brought from the intense pain that crushed me so unexpectedly. While that day has been on my mind all week my emotions still caught me by suprise..the twenty-third of June. That morning my mom took my brother, my sister and me to Denny's. We laughed and ate our pancakes, she gave a birthday card with a twenty dollar bill tucked inside and then she left. And that was the last time she would be apart of my life. The last time she would hug me without timid hesitation, awkward from the years of absence.
I try so hard to be everything that she wasn't to me, but I struggle with never really knowing if it's enough and cringing a little when I find myself doing some of the same things that my mom did, even if they are things that left me with the sweetest memories I have of her. I try to love myself so that my children can see their own worth. It's so important that they know our imperfections don't make us worthless. That they are okay where ever they are in this life, I know they having growing to do. And if they need to try harder to be who they are meant to be, I'll love them while they figure it out. They have to know they are loved absolutely and unconditionally. Always.
In 12 years she missed high school graduation, wedding day, the birth of my children. But it's the normal every day things that sometimes hurt when I find that empty spot where she should be. I wish I could call her for advice. Or send her pictures of her grandchildren. I wish that despite anything that might happen to me, I wish I could know I have someone cheering for me. And I wish that I could know that she would do everything in her power to be here with me. Most of all I wish that she had made different choices. Maybe she could have seen that doing the hard thing is always worth it. She could have made choices that would have made her stronger, wiser, happy even.

Working through it..

I haven't given up on my weight loss goals but I'm realizing that, for me, there are some emotional issues that go hand and hand with my weight issues. For so long writing has been my outlet, from when I was a young teenager scrawling out my emotions with a highlighter in my college wide notebook to writing in journals (with real pens-ha!), to the notepad on my computer to blogging. There is something therapeutic about it, it won't be pretty and edited, but it will be real and part of me. So things might get a little random around here, but I hope it'll be a good thing.

Junk.

I remember the first time I thought I was fat. I was in the 4th grade and I was wearing blue and black hounds tooth patterned tights. We had just come in from recess and as I plopped down in my chair I saw that my thigh looked bigger when I rested it on the seat of my chair. I lifted my leg up and down several times watching the shape change. I was horrified. Ashamed. It was completely ridiculous. I wasn't a "fat" child; I wasn't rail thin as most 4th grader (I had started developing the previous year) and in my 9 year old mind that made me fat. Things got worse as I continued to develop; with curves and a training bra came taunts and name calling, relentless teasing. I remember a boy who teased me every day as I walked home from school. He would shout that I had hidden melons in my top, making the other kids laugh. I would fight back tears and the urge to flash him just to get him to leave me alone. In the 6th grade a girl called me "fatty" in front of the entire classes. It crushed me. I could go on and on. Rumors, people talking about me when they thought I couldn't hear, putting glue on my chair during art class, name calling right to my face. So many hurtful things said and done over years and I took each one as truth. I had a big nose. I was fat. I was ugly. Worthless.
I wish I could go back and help that young girl. Help her to see herself differently, but I can't yet. She's still a part of me and that's something I need to deal with. Part of me feels that I'll only be worth something if I lose these 79lbs. Another part worries that even that won't be enough.