insomnia: again? really?!

so. sitting on the couch in the living room. eleven ferrets wrecking havoc on the house. three in the kitchen. eight in the living room. and i can't sleep. one attacking my slipper. it's not doodle. it's cass. holy fucking hell. i know, it's obvious why i can't sleep: there's eleven ferrets tearing ass around the house making noise and trashing the place. that's not it. i'm not sure why i'm not sleepy. i thought i would be. work has been a steady pace lately. and sometimes emotionally challenging. it's tough being big brother and telling people they messed up. it's even more difficult having to tell someone that no, you won't change your mind, and try to nicely get them out of your cube so you can leave work on time.

but i'm actually very content, work life aside. fry and i have a nice home with our furkids. now and again when the temps are decent at night and the bugs're scarce we'll have a bonfire out back and make s'mores. we are very much into cuddling on the couch and watching netflix streaming through my wii. lately we've been on an xfiles kick. (i'm an xfiles junkie from way back so i like to skip around and watch my favorite episodes...currently the rain king...fry is an xfiles newbie so when we watch together we have started from the beginning).

there is a lot on my mind lately. i've finally come to terms with the fact that i very much do have trouble with collecting things. i think i've known it for a long time. and it's something that i've been working on with my therapist for the past few months. part of it is i have a very good memory. i can look at a knick knack and i remember who gave it to me and why they gave it to me. and then i feel immense guilt if i think about giving it away/throwing it away/donating it. as if that person may be hurt that i didn't hang onto whatever it was they gave me. it's not that i'm a spoiled princess and ungrateful for the thought. i very much am grateful to be the recipient of the gift. and most times i've gotten quite a bit of use out of the item it's just that it is now something that i have outgrown the use for. or else, i see something and think "well, i should get rid of X because i don't need it." but then i start thinking about how useful X item would be in Y situation. and then i keep it because otherwise if i have to buy whatever X is later down the line to do Y job then i'll be upset that i didn't keep the previous X item that i had. i grew up very very poor and so i can't stand to see something go to waste or waste my money.

in addition to having extreme issues parting with belongings i also have an extremely hard time passing up a deal. if i see something for 90% clearance at target i'll stock up, even if it's something like burnt orange pillar candles which i have no need for in the near, or even foreseeable, future. i keep a box of "gifts" in case i need to randomly give something to someone. all items that i got on massive clearance and i've stock piled. ugh. stock pile. that's a phrase that gives me the heebees, the geebees, shivers, and dry heaves all at the same time.

my dad used to get mad at my mom for "stock piling" food on the shelf we had in the basement. he'd get mad that she would squirrel away extra food. and in a way i did too. but i also remembered that day from my childhood. all the cabinets open. the fridge too. my mom crying because we had no food at all in the house and my siblings and i were hungry. something like that makes an impression on you. for me it instilled a deep fear of being hungry. or, of not having food. so when i see chef boy ardee on sale 10 for $10 i want to fill my cart with mini lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, and beef raviolis because then maybe i'll feel safe.

when i go grocery shopping i'm so tempted to use my coupons and the sale ad to fill my cart. even though the cupboards at home are literally stuffed and nearly over flowing with food. fry tells me we have enough. that we have more than enough. that i don't need to buy so much. we're only two people. he reminds me we should work through what we have at home before we get new stuff because otherwise we will wind up throwing stuff away. i nearly threw a fit when he suggested i give some of my scooby gummies and fruit by the fruits to his friend's three year old kid (yeah, me throwing a fit over gummies is a WHOLE other issue in the realm of beckah & her dysfunctional relationship with food). in the end i did give 1/3 of my gummies away to fry's friend's kid, and another 1/3 to my friend april's little girl. but that took SO much of my will power and strength in order to do that. i know. it's ridiculous. and at the same time it filled me a bit with a sense of panic.

i decided today to sell some of my stuff on ebay. the stuff that maybe i can make a buck or two off of instead of donating. i was all set to donate it. but fry suggested we try selling it instead. some backpacks that are in excellent shape, it's just that i don't need them. seriously, how many backpacks does one adult REALLY need? in a way it was easier on me to decide to give them away than sell them. isn't that odd? and i know i have some furbies in the garage. those should sell on ebay too. maybe this will be another small forward step in recovery? cleaning and getting rid of stuff is empowering. but it's also SO scary for me. so very very scary. then again. didn't i just say i was ready for scary? that i am welcoming it with open arms and want to face the scary all on my own? well. i'm thinking maybe i shouldn't be completely on my own. maybe i do need some help. just a wee bit of emotional support from friends and family. i'm still resolved to quit therapy. or rather, bring my need for it to an end. but, that doesn't mean i can't lean a little on those who love me. showing weakness. asking for help. those are positive steps for me.

i don't believe in fairytales, anymore

like almost every little girl, when i was young, i believed in fairytales. that good always, no matter the odds, would triumph over evil. generosity & good deeds are rewarded, while selfishness & ill will are punished. magic exists in many forms. that for every princess, there was a prince. & that they would all live happily ever after, because that's the way the universe is meant to be.

some days i wish i could go back in time & shake that little girl hard, make her teeth rattle, & tell her that it's all a bunch of bullshit. that in the end, all that you can really count on, is yourself. & if you don't start off believing in yourself then you're in for a long hard path until you get to that place.

i want to tell her that there won't be a prince, on a white horse. there won't be a castle. or that one perfect kiss that saves anyone's soul. there won't be the birds, the stars, the hearts or the sappy music to signal the happy ending. i want to tell her to stop looking for all of that. i want to save her a decade of her life wasted on that myth of happily ever after. i want her to focus on what's really important, her art, her vision, her future, herself.

& if only i could go back in time, maybe i could save that girl from having to learn every lesson the hard way. to have to learn over & over that thinking with your heart is as insane as trying to breath with your spleen. it's an impossible situation that will only end in frustration & defeat. maybe she'd believe it if i was the one to tell her she was smart, beautiful, capable, talented. that she really could be anything at all under the sun, she just had to dream & believe it. not get distracted by chasing pixies into the witching hour.

but i can't travel in time, although if i could i would SO be the first to think up you tube. & then i'd have a million dollars so i could buy a green coat, but not a real green coat. 'cause that's just cruel. sometimes it's nice to wish a bit though, to think & hope that maybe in some way i can bend time, just a little, so as not to actually travel back, but to reach that little girl, through our ancestors, so they can guide her & save her the wasted time.

& yes, the people we are now are because of the people we were in the past, shaped by the experiences along the way & the events & encounters of every day of our life. & yet, i'm not in the mood for that philosophical bullshit. because what's to say that the person i am at this moment is the best possible version of myself? what's to say that if i would have only been stronger as a child that perhaps i'd be a much more powerful person today? that maybe, if my head wouldn't have been so far up in the clouds that i'd be better grounded here on earth. my dreams realized. living my dreams instead of just sitting & pathetically wishing that maybe one day i'll be able to find the time between the two jobs & the inane errands to actually finish my book. to actually do something with my life.

maybe one day i'll stop trying to breath with my spleen.

forgiveness

i've been doing a bunch of reading lately on losing weight, getting healthy, & decreasing your stress levels. & one thing that has been popping up more & more in my reading is the necessity of forgiveness for a persons overall mental well being. & i'm not sure if i'm consciously seeking this out due to nigglings at the back of my brain, or if it's the universe's way of telling me that in order to really move forward i need to, in one clean swipe, free myself from those sticky webs of the past that are still clinging to me as i refuse to completely, with my whole heart, forgive those who have wronged me. at this moment in time there are three main people that i'm holding grudges against that i really must let go of.

& so

i forgive ms. petch for being a heinous bitch & essentially ruining my childhood. i entered her classroom a bright, happy, extroverted, vivacious child. full of energy, spirit, creativity, & an inner light that defied my years on earth. i left her classroom at the end of second grade a sullen painfully introverted kid who turned to books & food for comfort. i forgive her for the abuse & mental torture she put me through. as she bounced me from the "dummy" reading group, to the average, to the advanced. as she taught me the definition of humiliation by repeatedly making me a laughing stock in front of my classmates. i forgive her for instilling in me doubt that i was: smart, capable, valuable. i forgive her for stealing from me years of being an outgoing bubbly person while i hid behind that scared little girl who wanted nothing more than to blend forever into the orange & brown walls of the classroom.

i forgive my parents for not coming to my defense & pulling me out of that second grade hell hole. i forgive them for being too wrapped up in their own problems while i was growing up to notice the food missing from the cupboards as i ate my emotions away in secret. i forgive them for not being the role models that i needed them to be. for not modeling a healthy relationship with food. for not teaching me at a young age that fitness was something to be enjoyed, not dreaded. i forgive them for not seeing me for the miserable depressed teenager who tried to take her own life because she'd rather be dead than fat. i forgive them for seeing me as who they wanted me to be, instead of who i really was.

i forgive tssob (the southern son of a bitch) for stealing seven years of my life. i forgive him for telling me in one breath that he loved me & that i was damn lucky he did because no one else would want me. i forgive him for making me believe that was true. for hurting me so deeply that i can never completely trust another human being again. i forgive him for making me doubt that: i'm smart, talented, beautiful, & a force to be reckoned with. i forgive him for turning me into that pathetic girl that let an abusive guy rule her life because she really & honestly believed that one day he would come through on his promises. for being the kind of person who is only happy when he's holding someone else down. i forgive him for the lies he told me, that i foolishly believed. & i forgive him for the years of abuse in which he never laid a hand on me, but still left deep scars, none the less.

i had really thought that as i drove away from the playa in september of 2004 that i had left all of this behind me in the ashes of the temple. that i had let it go up in the flames that day, scratched onto scrap pieces of wood. but sometimes symbolism is just that. & while i thought i was ready to wipe all of this from my mind, my heart wasn't quite as ready to let go. & the hatred is weighing me down. so with this blog, i release my hatred & blame from my soul. letting the dark holes left behind fill with the positive people & blessings in my life. fall into winter is a season of death, but also a season of rebirth, & another chance to start again & hopefully get it right.

mechanically delicious

today, & yesterday too, my lunch consisted of a piece of buttered bread & a bowl of robot pasta with meat sauce. YUM! now my dear hunny-bunny was mocking the robot pasta, so i ask, what's wrong with a 29 year old woman enjoying a nice hot bowl of robot pasta with some prego spaghetti sauce? it's nutritious & fun too! the pasta has three different shapes of robot heads & little wrenches too. it makes meal time fun. & further more it's yummy yummy yummy in my tummy. besides, i'm a true believer in the theory that when you stop having fun & start to act like a responsible adult, that you begin to die a little bit. & really, where is the fun in that?

as far as nutrition goes, yeah, not the greatest, but i am keeping it to a 1-cup serving of pasta & approximately that much meat sauce also, & just one piece of bread. which is quite a down sizing of food compared to what i would've dished up even a few months ago. jenn did point out, rather glumly, that even though it didn't look like a lot of food to either one of us, it is still probably a lot more food than you'll find in your average smart ones or lean cuisine meal. which brings me to my main point of the day, why does diet food have to feel like you're depriving yourself. if you feel like you're missing out on something you're going to want to do it even more.

case in point: as a kid i never got to stay up until midnight on new year's eve. my parents would always have their friends over, play cards, have an appetizer buffet, & us kids could stay up until 9 or 10 pm snacking on the food & then it was off to bed right away. when i was twelve i was finally allowed to stay up until midnight & i was so disappointed by the reality of new year's eve. they just sat there, playing cards, dick clark on in the background in times square, munching on taco dip & left over christmas cookies. no big hurrah, no cheering or exciting moments, just the same thing. & then at about half past midnight their friends left & my parents went o bed. now i thought i was missing out on something totally fantabulous, the reality was rather lame, at best.

that's how it is when you deprive yourself of food. you build up in your head this wonderful taste sensation. that piece of cheesecake takes on icon status, smooth, creamy, melt-in-your-mouth delicious, the absolute best food in the whole entire world, all because you can't have it. now, if instead of saying absolutely not, you say, i'll have two bites, then it's not so bad. you have your two bites, they're good, but not terrific, & you call it a day, all without feeling guilty or deprived. now the real trick is to keep it to the two bites & really be satisfied with that. & if it turns out to be utter shite then you have to cut your losses & accept that too without beating yourself up too much for a bad choice.

lately i've been in this very destructive cycle of depriving myself of sweets/treats & then going totally over board & eating everything in sight. definitely not a good thing. & then when i binge none of it tastes good anyway. i'm left feeling over stuffed, sick to my stomach, guilty, & like the biggest failure in human kind. i'm not looking for sympathy or head patting here, i'm just trying to be honest because i know that i'm not alone in this behavior, or these feelings. & i really don't see the point in being silent anymore on this issue.

i get this feeling sometimes like a lot of people in society wish that all the fatties would just up & disappear from the world. like the rapture, except instead of the godly christians, it's all the big'uns plucked out of the world leaving only their yards of clothing behind as a sign of their existence. i do try not to be so sensitive as far as being a fat person in a thin-yet-getting-plumper-by-the-minute world. but sometimes it's hard. just because i'm large doesn't mean that i'm oblivious, or automatically thick skinned. i do feel the glances & the stares that convey: hatred-disgust-fear-loathing, all in a moments look. i've had people move away from me at a doctor's office 'cause they think that the fats-a-catchin'. or shrink up close to the wall, all the while giving me wary glances, in a full elevator, like it'll be my butt that'll cause the cable to snap.

one of my hopes is that when i do get thin that i don't forget all of this. i do believe that your past molds the person you are, & i believe that being a fat kid-teen-adult has shaped me into my present self. it's colored my views, attitudes, thoughts, actions, words, & my writing. in some ways i've shut myself off too much, being teased & abused as a kid because of my weight. i have become overly sensitive at times. but yet, i've also gained a great sense of empathy for other people. i do everything i can not to intentionally harm another person, to cause them heartache or hurt feelings. i don't want to do the permanent damage to another soul that's been done to me.

but i'm not lamenting, merely reminiscing, taking a moment to look inward before i look out again. as i've always said of myself as a writer "i am god of this universe, & i'll do what i wish with it." while that's a very narcissistic view of life, in a way i am the "god" of my own path. no one really can make me feel inferior unless i allow them to, (thanks mrs. roosevelt). & i put my own feet on my path each morning with each decision i make: oatmeal or cap'n crunch? & each second there is another chance to change it, for the better, for the worse, or to just change it.

i miss light brown m&m's

yesterday evening i was munching on a couple of m&m's when i looked down & realized the color palate just wasn't quite right. it took a moment of thoughtful munching to realize what was wrong. the bright blue m&m's. the just looked wrong there in the more earthy hue. the rest of the chocolate candies looked like they were plucked out of a scene of a tranquil fall day, even the green. but the blue is just shockingly different to the senses. ok, for all you squeeky wheels out there, yes, on a fall day the sky would be blue, but not electric blue, it would be softer, more natural.

now closely upon the heels of this realization was another one. kids out there now have no idea that m&m's used to be light brown! they've always known them to include the little blue bugger. now seriously, that made me feel old. really really freaking old. i know things change, & maybe it's just a fat chick trait that my ah-ha moment revolves around candy, but whoa, it definitely tilted my world.

it also brought to mind a conversation jack & i were having on monday. how did we get around before mapquest? i wasn't driving long before mapquest hit the scene, so i had no real sense of how you found your way around. my guess is it was a whole lot of asking people how to get places, looking at maps, & stopping at your friendly, er, maybe not always so friendly, neighborhood gas station for directions.

i feel old. blech.

perception vs reality

childhood self-image
my perception of myself as a child is that i was huge. not just pudgy & squishy, but by god a fat f*cking piece of humanity that should be hidden away from the universe. yeah, maybe my adult self is exaggerating a bit on behalf of my childhood self, except, except there's all those strong memories of self loathing & wishing that i could just-wake up thin-go to sleep forever-be normal-& all the other variations that have crossed my mind since i was about seven.

childhood reality
i was flipping through pictures yesterday ranging from my wee young toddler years all the way up to around when i was 13-14. & for the first time i really saw, i mean actually saw that i wasn't really a fat kid, not until junior high. granted i was pudgy, like the pillsbury dough boy with pigtails & glasses, but in an endearing sort of way. yeah, i could've definitely lost a few pounds & been a-ok, but i wasn't that obsese, not like some of the kids that are profiled on the talk shows "my toddler weighs 100lbs & i'll keep feeding him pizza anyway" it really wasn't until that dreadful transition from elementary to junior high that i actually blew up. & while looking at the pictures i cried. the tears actually streaming so fast down my face i could barely see.

as a kid i looked in the mirror & i really did see someone who was so huge that there was almost no hope. granted, it probably didn't help anything that my best friend was the skinniest girl in our grade, & a gymnast, & a dancer to boot. all of that aside, it didn't change the way i felt, waking up each morning, getting on the bus, & going to school. being out of breath in gym class, feeling squished & uncomfortable in my desk. all of that along with some not so encouraging messages from a few family members made me see someone with four chins who was five feet wide whenever i looked at my reflection.

no, it's not another episode of "let's blame all our problems on our rotten childhood." i am old enough to know better. & i realize that by the time i was 14-15 the decisions i was making were completely my own. i was well on my way to being an adult & i could have changed things if i had really really wanted to do so. except for, i did want to change, but i felt that i didn't deserve change.

when i was in my early teens my pediatrician made me go to a weight loss clinic. while at the clinic i saw a dietician, a physical therapist, & a psychologist. now that i work in health insurance i realize that i had a pretty sweet deal, especially since my parents didn't have to really pay anything for the appointments other than their regular premiums. but at the time i wasn't ready, i was being forced to be there. so i politely listened to what they said, then went home & did what ever i wanted. when the psychologist gave me a test to see if i was depressed i lied. the test was so see-through that i just answered it the way they wanted me to answer it, no way was i about to admit that i was so depressed that suicide was always on my mind. & that sums up the whole experience. i told them what they wanted so they'd leave me alone. & i don't think i lost a single pound. a part of me really wanted to try, to get in shape, but a larger portion of me was in such a dark place that it seemed as impossible to me as waking up one day on the moon.

i'm not sure how much it really helps me to analyze, or over analyze, my early years. except that, it may help me to figure out how to change some of these behaviors. i do know that i'm a self sabotoger. it almost seems that i have no control as i munch the reese's miniatures or drive myself through taco bell to grab a snack when i'm on my way home to have dinner. now i'm not trying to live up to the fat person cliche here, but i do know i do these things. when i'm doing well on exercising & eating right there's something in me that suddenly decides that i will simply die if i don't immediately get a king size whatchamacallit. mmmm....whatchamacallit. sounds kind of good right now.....

the sad part in all of this? right now i know that i'm sabotaging myself with my behavior. i'm very aware that what i'm doing is derailing all the hard work that i'm putting into my life. & a part of me could really give a rat's ass on the whole thing. & another part of me is so upset that diving under my down comforter & crying myself to sleep sounds like a wonderful idea. i won't even try to pretend that i have all of my shit together because that is such a bald faced lie. at one point i really thought i had all my shit together. but here's the thing, while i was working out & losing weight i didn't really figure out what caused me to sabotage myself. i never found out why i feel that i can't help myself when i'm faced with temptations. there are some days where i am SO unbelievably good at resisting whatever the nearest kryptonite is, & other days i dive head first & do the backstroke.