Good morning! I am suffering a serious case of "blogger's block" today.... You know what I mean, right? It is like "writer's block", except I am not writing a novel... just a blog. So, in my finest effort of doing a little mental flossing, I figured I would let a few thoughts fly for today's blog....
My house is in utter chaos and I have zero motivation to do a darn thing about it, I am reading a book that holds no interest in it for me, but I am determined to read it anyway, and I am trying to get psyched up for yet another round of..."will I ever succeed at dieting and exercising", come the new year since I am seriously lacking the motivation to see myself fail at losing weight. Nice double negative on that last thought, huh? Oh heck, I could turn it around and make it sound like a double positive of succeeding at gaining weight, except I am a woman and being on a perpetual diet is ingrained in our DNA. Salads are supposed to be our best friend, ya know. Along with that cereal that looks like bird seed (and probably is) because of its health benefits, and chocolate being a curse word that should never be spoken (nor eaten).... I am already seeing the loopholes my mind is trying to conjure up to sabotage my valiant efforts. Sadly, after a round of Weight Watchers meetings, it has been drilled into my head what the nutritional value (along with its Weight Watchers "points" value), I am a walking and talking train wreck that needs to embrace the word "no" to everything that remotely tastes good and try to embrace the word "yes" to food that borders upon hospital grade paste; tasteless and supposedly good for you. Just add in a few other factors of feeding a pair pf picky eaters and a budget so tight that it can choke a horse and there you have it.... a recipe for misery. Oh sure, I can exercise off those poor choices of food, but I never saw myself as a hamster chained to an exercise wheel with a tasty tidbit of food dangling from a string, just out of my reach to keep me going. I never really found much fun in that. I am quite active with doing other things and sadly, according to the plethora of metaphors that describe my body shape, it is not enough.
Between the descriptive words that I could use to describe how I feel about my body... I have to say the bakery comment of "muffin top" does not seem to motivate me all that much. I thought that having a muffin once in a while was a good thing. Apparently not. The calorie count is staggering when it comes to my choice of what I like for a muffin. By the way... it is blueberry if you are wondering. Nope, the one metaphor that seems to have me realize that it is time to try again refers to flotation devises.... I happen to have a pair of water-wings and an inner-tube with a duck face on it across my middle. I happen to be "top heavy" and I know it.... darn family trait, if you ask me. Well, I know that the water-wings comment is stretching it a bit since my arms are really not that big, but I have a chest that seems to push my arms out like I do have water-wings on.
Just yesterday, while taking DD shopping to use her pile of gift cards (which she was completely thrilled to have because she just loves to shop), I weakened a little and took a look at what was on sale at the stores to see if there was anything I might like, too. I guess I am quite funny when DD and the sales person asked me what my preferences were in clothes for myself. I can only guess that they asked to kill the loathsome silence that was seeping from my pores.... I just hate shopping, and I hate buying myself things even more. Of course, with my dry sarcasm and quick wit, along with some serious self-hate trapped in my bulging core, I said that it is very difficult to buy clothes for my body shape... I have thin, muscular legs and arms, but a round core. "Just picture an orange with toothpick arms and legs... that is what I look like if I was forced to wear a full body suit", I said in a dry, self-deprecating tone to the sales person. "Makes it hard to look cute when your shape is defined by a piece of fruit and shards of wood. Just point me to the sporting goods section so I can select a tent and cut a few holes in it for my head and arms to pop through. That should do the trick."
Apparently, that had a large group of people that were supposed to be minding their own business laughing. Of course, I closed with the usual, "thank you very much, I will be here all week, tip your waitstaff and may I suggest that you try the veal... it is to die for." Needless to say, I did purchase another pair of my "vanity jeans" and a peasant-style top. If you are wondering what "vanity jeans" are... it is the one cut of jeans from Old Navy that have so much stretch in them that I need to buy a size smaller than what I usually wear. I know, I know... I am pathetic that I base my happiness on a number, but I know that I am truly not alone in that thought process. I guess that is why I would rather buy shoes than clothes. I can say, without hesitation, that I wear a size 8 in shoes. Everything else is a protected secret that would result in killing someone after telling them. Same goes for my weight. If I was not required to step on a scale every week (for which I have avoided for months) at my local weight watchers location, I would be up for murder on a weekly basis. This poor sap that pays a monthly fee and struggles with their notion that their plan is livable and works, has to let someone see the number on the scale. Trust me... I could almost think... and I mean almost... I feel less violated in a TSA search at the airport. Some things are just better left unknown to the public.
Oh well, I have to face the music, make a plan, and stick with it. I am joining the masses when January 1st comes along. Yep, a new start date for something I have been failing at for quite a while.... to lose weight, get a new habit that is called exercise at the gym, and make this a livable lifestyle. Maybe I will just bring my latest book to the gym and chain myself to the treadmill. They say that walking is good for the core muscles and I will lose weight in my trouble section. I just wonder how much more thin my legs need to get to have that finally happen. I am proud of mt few sit-ups that I do every day.... the ones that get me out of bed after sitting up to hit the snooze button on my alarm clock. As weight watchers meeting leaders (aka the food Nazi patrol) have told me... I need to move more and cleaning the chaos of my home is definitely going to take some moving to get there. UGH! I should have married a plastic surgeon! At least he could just surgically make things better, but NO, I married a mechanic that might finally fix my truck that has had the check engine light that turns on and off at random times.... it has been a year of that going on and still nothing is getting fixed. I can only guess he is waiting for it to be towed in to actually do something about it.
So in closing, thanks for caring enough to listen to me whine and vent... well, read about it anyway. Sorry it is a pity-fest regarding my weight. Have a great day everyone!
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Friday, December 21, 2012
Calendars, Cliffs, and Chaos... Oh my!!
Whew! We made it through the apparent apocalypse according to the Mayan Calendar. Yep, that intricately carved stone that caused such havoc is wrong, but I wonder.... could it be right in a different angle? With the current fiscal cliff just ahead and our elected officials that are required to do something about it being at a stalemate.... life as we know it is over! Taxes are going to be on the rise when there is not enough money to afford to pay those taxes! Really, how hard is it to make a decision these days? Cap the taxes and CUT THE FRIVOLOUS SPENDING!!!! Sheesh! It sounds too simple to make it so darn complicated. I know, I know.... there is way more to the story, but really.... you need to start somewhere. With the jobless rate at an all-time high and people needing to utilize those programs that our tax dollars have been supporting... there must be a way to alter the course.
People are at the end of their proverbial string these days. The cost of everything is going up, people are losing their jobs, the programs that are to help people in need are being overused, insurance premiums are going up with the coverage going down, and obviously the middle class is dwindling. No longer are there three financial classes of people. You are either well-to-do or you are up the creek without a paddle. Trust me when I say this.... those that are just scraping by are now entering the up the creek without a paddle group. That is, if you managed to bury a little nest egg really deep in that coffee can in the back yard. I know that life is not meant to be a picnic, but can't we all catch a break from time to time?
Some of those strings that people are hanging on by are snapping a little more often than before. I do not condone violence, but after hearing about the massacre in Newtown, CT, you have to wonder if anyone is truly safe these days. The shouts for gun control have reached an all time high, but people are losing focus on a few little factors.... The guns that this lunatic obtained were legally owned and licensed through his mother (that he killed nonetheless). Regardless of the rules set before the law abiding people that have a constitutional right to have them, there are just as many that will find a way to get their hands on one illegally. Heck, the requirement that a person needs to be mentally stable to be approved to purchase a handgun is no guarantee that this person will not go ballistic in the future and go on a killing spree. The waiting period to be approved really does not mean a hill of beans. If a person is desperate enough, they will find a way. It is not like gangs and criminals waited the necessary time frame. Even the argument over the notion that guns kill people is bunk. The gun did not break into that school by itself. It takes a person to pull the trigger. I mean, if we have to always shift the blame to the item and never take the blame personally, then I am fat because the food did it to me and not the fact that I was the one who ate the food in the first place. Be smart people!!! Look beyond the short path by blaming the instrument of the demise and take the time to seek the whole truth. In all honesty, we are the most dangerous creatures around. Animals can attack, but people have access to tools that get the job done.
Sigh, it is just so unsettling to see life as we know it spiral into utter dismay. The necessary focus is skewed, desperation is boiling to the surface, lines are being drawn and innocent people are suffering the consequences. Church and State distancing themselves, the doubts of beliefs, the strain of existence... So, in closing.... It may not have been asteroids pummeling the Earth or the gates of Hell opening up to swallow us whole as the Mayan Calendar states.... it is the beginning of a very slow and painful implosion of life as we know it. All we can do is reclaim our faith in God above and pray that we receive his mercy for the way things have become. Apologize for the rampant greed and vicious acts that have pushed his children into doing such terrible things and seek guidance for those that lost their way in the faith we have that there is truly a God. While faith may be seen as a blind thing, it is a foundation in all religions that there is a greater force that looks over us. He goes by many names, but is truly one. It does not matter what religion it is... Catholic, Christian, Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Jewish, and so many more that are out there... it is the foundation of common decency, love, and respect that needs to be focused on. Our job in life is not just making ends meet financially, but to focus on taking care of what we are blessed with having around us. Regardless of what science or religion tells us.... our existence is what matters here. Why not try to make it good for all?
Okay, stepping off my soapbox and do something productive today. Thanks for reading and have a great day! I am thankful for another day because you know... that is why they call it the present and I am always thankful when it comes to gifts.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
The way too modern woman.....
Well kiddies.... Way back when the Earth was cooling and dinosaurs were family pets, men and women had different jobs around the cave that we now call "home". The women maintained a clean cave while the men took their work outside. It was just easier that way. Men and nature went hand-in-hand, while women, the more domestic of creatures created comforts through strategically placed soft things so their worn and weary partners can relax. When you really think about it.... it is all in appearances, too. Men, rough and rugged, ripped with muscles is a direct opposite of the woman's soft curves... the ying to the other's yang.... balance.
Sadly, it has come to my attention that yet men have the better end of the deal when it comes to the dividing of the cave chores. I know.... I know.... you are probably mentioning to your screen that this is very far from the truth. The required moving of boulders, clearing of brush and since the ice age hit.... removal of snow is actually hard work. It takes stamina and strength to achieve the intended goal. Yep, I can hear the primal grunting as I type this and the prehistoric chest pounding he-man actions, pounding the statement home.... "Me man! Me strong!... You woman! You too weak to do man work!" Oh, give me a break!!!! Yard work needs less daily attending to compared to housework.....
While I will agree that a boulder weighs more than a feather duster, I have to wonder..... How in the heck did I end up with getting both jobs? I am obviously a woman since I attend to the care of the inside of this cave, but I also happen to take care of things on the outside, too. What is that all about???
Growing up, I did chores. I have no doubt that everyone did a chore or two for their parents. It really depended upon what that task was, but we all did something. I remember mowing the lawn and shoveling snow. Of course, I was not required to do that at my childhood home. I have an older brother that was told to do it. When I did yard work, I did it to earn some extra cash. Nope, when I was growing up... I was given the indoor chores; washing dishes, doing laundry, vacuuming, dusting, cleaning my room. I mean, I knew why I was required to do the indoor jobs... my mom told me to do them. After getting married, she told me that a well functioning home had jobs for the specific sexes.... Women took care of the maintenance of the home, while men attended to the yard and fixed broken things. Well, I have managed to blur that line in the sand and I have nobody to blame, but myself...
This is the time of year that I manage to take on additional chores at this cave I call home. All because I have less resolve to not just get the job done when it needs to get done. What I am talking about is.... snow. As I wait with shovel at the ready, I will be taking on the task of snow removal yet again this year. Trust me when I say this.... When autumn comes and the leaves fall, I am out in my yard with the leaf blower, the lawn mower and a pile of lawn bags. Now, I am not as crazed as a neighbor of mine that managed to mow her lawn every other day, but you can tell a difference between the end result of leaf removal when I do it compared to when DH does it. This past fall, I held my ground and had DH take care of the leaves. It took every ounce of patience to see that task get done and I am on frayed nerve when it comes to the upcoming predicted snowfall, so I have my trusty shovel waiting for me in the garage. DH has far stronger resolve to not bother shoveling and does not mind the packed snow tread marks in the driveway or the packed boot-laden path on the sidewalk. As for me.... it is a thorn in my side, but an actual appreciated task to take on. You see, I live with 2 clutter typhoons I lovingly call DH and DD. I will admit that I am far from perfect, but when it comes down to leaving a mess.... well, they will always win hands-down. When I clean, my efforts are destroyed in the first hour that they are home. When I shovel? I get the sense of accomplishment that I am only dealing with nature and when the snow stops.... my efforts are not in threat of being trashed in an hour and manage to stay clean. What a wonderful feeling, but sadly, my determination to do that task makes me a more modern and self-sufficient woman.
While that seems to be small potatoes, I happen to take on other tasks that I probably should not, but do anyway. I fix broken stuff. Now, it is not the complex stuff that I know that DH is more apt to do, but if push came to shove.... I could probably figure it out and do it myself. I am not afraid of tools, I even have slightly attained knowledge of where all the emergency shut-off stuff is... I can shut the water off to the house and I know how to change a fuse. Heck, if I was not married to a mechanic, I could even change the oil in my truck. That, my friends, makes me far too modern for my own good. Since DH is aware that I am perfectly capable of doing these things, he has managed to avoid doing more around the house... you know, take on those prehistoric tasks that have been handed down from generation to generation.
My question to you all is this..... How can I re-shift the focus on getting him to reclaiming those tasks? Really, if there is a man in the house.... why not get him to do stuff, too? UGH! I fear that my fate has been sealed! I have 2 small projects that I can easily do myself, but would rather have him take a more active role in this house. One is to fix a leaking faucet that I know I can easily fix myself and the other is to replace a handle on a bedroom door (also, easy for me to do). There is one other task, but I have to go to the store to see if I could find a replacement shower nozzle to the shower downstairs. Apparently, the attachment is not standard and I have to remove the nozzle to find a match in connection. I really dread that task since I hate shopping, but I cannot stand looking at DH's patchwork of duct tape holding it together. Some things really need to be replaced around here. I have looked at that cracked shower head nozzle for as long as I have lived here, but I will say that I am impressed with the staying power that duct tape happens to have. I just happen to shake my down-turned head in shame that all those tools he has gotten over the years happen to be used by me far more than it has been by him around this house. Oh well, time to open the tool box and fix some stuff because repeating my pleas for assistance have been falling on deaf ears.....
Thanks for reading and have a great day!
Growing up, I did chores. I have no doubt that everyone did a chore or two for their parents. It really depended upon what that task was, but we all did something. I remember mowing the lawn and shoveling snow. Of course, I was not required to do that at my childhood home. I have an older brother that was told to do it. When I did yard work, I did it to earn some extra cash. Nope, when I was growing up... I was given the indoor chores; washing dishes, doing laundry, vacuuming, dusting, cleaning my room. I mean, I knew why I was required to do the indoor jobs... my mom told me to do them. After getting married, she told me that a well functioning home had jobs for the specific sexes.... Women took care of the maintenance of the home, while men attended to the yard and fixed broken things. Well, I have managed to blur that line in the sand and I have nobody to blame, but myself...
This is the time of year that I manage to take on additional chores at this cave I call home. All because I have less resolve to not just get the job done when it needs to get done. What I am talking about is.... snow. As I wait with shovel at the ready, I will be taking on the task of snow removal yet again this year. Trust me when I say this.... When autumn comes and the leaves fall, I am out in my yard with the leaf blower, the lawn mower and a pile of lawn bags. Now, I am not as crazed as a neighbor of mine that managed to mow her lawn every other day, but you can tell a difference between the end result of leaf removal when I do it compared to when DH does it. This past fall, I held my ground and had DH take care of the leaves. It took every ounce of patience to see that task get done and I am on frayed nerve when it comes to the upcoming predicted snowfall, so I have my trusty shovel waiting for me in the garage. DH has far stronger resolve to not bother shoveling and does not mind the packed snow tread marks in the driveway or the packed boot-laden path on the sidewalk. As for me.... it is a thorn in my side, but an actual appreciated task to take on. You see, I live with 2 clutter typhoons I lovingly call DH and DD. I will admit that I am far from perfect, but when it comes down to leaving a mess.... well, they will always win hands-down. When I clean, my efforts are destroyed in the first hour that they are home. When I shovel? I get the sense of accomplishment that I am only dealing with nature and when the snow stops.... my efforts are not in threat of being trashed in an hour and manage to stay clean. What a wonderful feeling, but sadly, my determination to do that task makes me a more modern and self-sufficient woman.
While that seems to be small potatoes, I happen to take on other tasks that I probably should not, but do anyway. I fix broken stuff. Now, it is not the complex stuff that I know that DH is more apt to do, but if push came to shove.... I could probably figure it out and do it myself. I am not afraid of tools, I even have slightly attained knowledge of where all the emergency shut-off stuff is... I can shut the water off to the house and I know how to change a fuse. Heck, if I was not married to a mechanic, I could even change the oil in my truck. That, my friends, makes me far too modern for my own good. Since DH is aware that I am perfectly capable of doing these things, he has managed to avoid doing more around the house... you know, take on those prehistoric tasks that have been handed down from generation to generation.
My question to you all is this..... How can I re-shift the focus on getting him to reclaiming those tasks? Really, if there is a man in the house.... why not get him to do stuff, too? UGH! I fear that my fate has been sealed! I have 2 small projects that I can easily do myself, but would rather have him take a more active role in this house. One is to fix a leaking faucet that I know I can easily fix myself and the other is to replace a handle on a bedroom door (also, easy for me to do). There is one other task, but I have to go to the store to see if I could find a replacement shower nozzle to the shower downstairs. Apparently, the attachment is not standard and I have to remove the nozzle to find a match in connection. I really dread that task since I hate shopping, but I cannot stand looking at DH's patchwork of duct tape holding it together. Some things really need to be replaced around here. I have looked at that cracked shower head nozzle for as long as I have lived here, but I will say that I am impressed with the staying power that duct tape happens to have. I just happen to shake my down-turned head in shame that all those tools he has gotten over the years happen to be used by me far more than it has been by him around this house. Oh well, time to open the tool box and fix some stuff because repeating my pleas for assistance have been falling on deaf ears.....
Thanks for reading and have a great day!
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
He just does not get it!!!!!
With Christmas around the corner, literally, I finally finished the gift shopping. Everything is wrapped, placed in their respective stocking, and the final gift mailed out last night... I felt the weight of the world off my shoulders. It was a wonderful feeling until DH confronts me about the one gift under the tree that happens to have his name on it.
Apparently, he is not all that happy that I took the time to buy him a gift......
With this knowledge, he proceeds to tell me that he has no clue what to get me now because he thought we were not going to exchange gifts this year. Apparently, he feels that it is a mandatory thing to buy a gift for a person because they got him one. Really, since when does Christmas have a mandatory gift requirement?
As I tried to explain to a very frustrated DH that what I got him was not to be seen as a big deal. I got him something because I wanted to. I think about him quite often, regardless of the very little he may think of me. My assumption about how much he thinks of me is by his actions. I know he puts in long hours at work to bring home his earnings to support this family we happen to have together. We really do not have a lot of extra money to spend on frivolous things, like gifts, but we can manage something small if we really wanted to.... just to let a person know that you are thinking of them. Heck, I know he would rather put that money spent on a gift in our savings account or in DD's little college nest egg. Sure, we could think of many other things we can do with the money, but has it really come to the point that we should not think of each other once in a while and do something about it?
I don't know... I thought I explained myself pretty well when I told him I really did not think it was necessary to hand me the checkbook and tell me to go and get myself something for Christmas, but he insisted. Apparently, his reasoning for relinquishing the one thing I have seen him hold so tight that I have no doubt moths will fly out of it, is truly rational thought. He told me that he would look like the bad guy if I got nothing when I got him something for Christmas. Really????? I do not see it that way. If he really wanted to know what could make him really look like the bad guy... he needs to look back over this past year....
Birthdays past with no thoughtful notion except a pack on the cheek and a "happy birthday" mentioned as he runs out the door to go to work, no anniversary cards that shares a loving thought about me for our anniversary, no simple little notion I am loved on paper for Valentines Day or Sweetest Day (even though we do agree that those are just Hallmark holidays), and no offering to cook for one measly day that is called Mother's Day so I can get a break.... Nope, not one little thing I can place in a box of memories that I can go back to and remember that he thinks of me. After 14 years of marriage, he still has not figured me out!! It is not the gift or the cost of it, but the thought behind it!!! And now he thinks he is the bad guy for not getting me a Christmas gift? I swear! He can really be a moron!!!
All the while, I have done at least something throughout the year for him. I have bought cards that shared loving feelings for Valentines Day and our anniversary (I did skip Sweetest Day because I still think it lacks the necessary thought), I got him a birthday gift (for which I offered early because I wanted to), I cooked his favorite meal on Father's Day (which is no surprise, really, since I do all the cooking anyway), and I got him a Christmas gift that just happens to be something he really needed (a new iced tea maker since the one he has is on its last leg). Really, being thoughtful does not require breaking the bank over it.... just the notion that you are thought of.
Okay, I realized he did one thing this past year and obviously he did it as an afterthought.... He tried to sneak a bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in the shopping cart to give to me for Valentines Day. Not exactly a romantic thought or act to surprise me, but he at least tried, right? Sadly, he never realized that I have been on a perpetual diet and was trying to avoid the chocolates (especially in a large quantity like that). Even more sadly, I turn to chocolate more and more because I don't feel appreciated and that is my downfall to my weight issue. Emotional eating is a bad thing...
Well, in order to avoid getting the wrath of Mr. Crabby Pants, I am venturing out with the checkbook to get a few things that I have needed for a while... I am almost out of shower gel, I want to pick up some new underwear and socks (since mine are falling apart), a candle or two since my candles are just about burnt out, and a new bra for DD (since she is currently stealing my sports bras for her own, but that trip will require to have her with me to get it.... I am not going to guess her size). Ho Ho Hum... Merry Christmas everyone! That is... if the Mayan Calendar is wrong. If it is right (of which I am seriously doubting that it is right)... I will at least go out with socks that do not have holes and underwear that is not thread-barren.
Thanks for reading..... Have a great day.
Apparently, he is not all that happy that I took the time to buy him a gift......
With this knowledge, he proceeds to tell me that he has no clue what to get me now because he thought we were not going to exchange gifts this year. Apparently, he feels that it is a mandatory thing to buy a gift for a person because they got him one. Really, since when does Christmas have a mandatory gift requirement?
As I tried to explain to a very frustrated DH that what I got him was not to be seen as a big deal. I got him something because I wanted to. I think about him quite often, regardless of the very little he may think of me. My assumption about how much he thinks of me is by his actions. I know he puts in long hours at work to bring home his earnings to support this family we happen to have together. We really do not have a lot of extra money to spend on frivolous things, like gifts, but we can manage something small if we really wanted to.... just to let a person know that you are thinking of them. Heck, I know he would rather put that money spent on a gift in our savings account or in DD's little college nest egg. Sure, we could think of many other things we can do with the money, but has it really come to the point that we should not think of each other once in a while and do something about it?
I don't know... I thought I explained myself pretty well when I told him I really did not think it was necessary to hand me the checkbook and tell me to go and get myself something for Christmas, but he insisted. Apparently, his reasoning for relinquishing the one thing I have seen him hold so tight that I have no doubt moths will fly out of it, is truly rational thought. He told me that he would look like the bad guy if I got nothing when I got him something for Christmas. Really????? I do not see it that way. If he really wanted to know what could make him really look like the bad guy... he needs to look back over this past year....
Birthdays past with no thoughtful notion except a pack on the cheek and a "happy birthday" mentioned as he runs out the door to go to work, no anniversary cards that shares a loving thought about me for our anniversary, no simple little notion I am loved on paper for Valentines Day or Sweetest Day (even though we do agree that those are just Hallmark holidays), and no offering to cook for one measly day that is called Mother's Day so I can get a break.... Nope, not one little thing I can place in a box of memories that I can go back to and remember that he thinks of me. After 14 years of marriage, he still has not figured me out!! It is not the gift or the cost of it, but the thought behind it!!! And now he thinks he is the bad guy for not getting me a Christmas gift? I swear! He can really be a moron!!!
All the while, I have done at least something throughout the year for him. I have bought cards that shared loving feelings for Valentines Day and our anniversary (I did skip Sweetest Day because I still think it lacks the necessary thought), I got him a birthday gift (for which I offered early because I wanted to), I cooked his favorite meal on Father's Day (which is no surprise, really, since I do all the cooking anyway), and I got him a Christmas gift that just happens to be something he really needed (a new iced tea maker since the one he has is on its last leg). Really, being thoughtful does not require breaking the bank over it.... just the notion that you are thought of.
Okay, I realized he did one thing this past year and obviously he did it as an afterthought.... He tried to sneak a bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in the shopping cart to give to me for Valentines Day. Not exactly a romantic thought or act to surprise me, but he at least tried, right? Sadly, he never realized that I have been on a perpetual diet and was trying to avoid the chocolates (especially in a large quantity like that). Even more sadly, I turn to chocolate more and more because I don't feel appreciated and that is my downfall to my weight issue. Emotional eating is a bad thing...
Well, in order to avoid getting the wrath of Mr. Crabby Pants, I am venturing out with the checkbook to get a few things that I have needed for a while... I am almost out of shower gel, I want to pick up some new underwear and socks (since mine are falling apart), a candle or two since my candles are just about burnt out, and a new bra for DD (since she is currently stealing my sports bras for her own, but that trip will require to have her with me to get it.... I am not going to guess her size). Ho Ho Hum... Merry Christmas everyone! That is... if the Mayan Calendar is wrong. If it is right (of which I am seriously doubting that it is right)... I will at least go out with socks that do not have holes and underwear that is not thread-barren.
Thanks for reading..... Have a great day.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Oh, for the love of all that is good and holy!
I really need to stop reading romance novels!! Really!!
I was told that there comes a time that the need to read a certain genre of books, it is a cry of need in that aspect of your life... aka: Reading what you lack. While not all genres scream the need a certain aspect (because reading is an enjoyable outlet), it is the feeling behind the writing that attracts a person to it. Trust me, I have not met a person that feels that they are lacking witches and wizards or dragons in their life, as well as psychopathic serial killers, but when it comes to fictional romance novels or non-fiction works like biographies... there is a hidden meaning to the enjoyment of the books... and understandable at that.
While some people have told me that in order to truly get a genre of books out of your system, you need to read until the breaking point of boredom to finally get release from the attachment. In fact, one person mentioned to me that reading romance novels offers a chance to connect to an aspect that taps an inner part of you that you choose to hide from. While all of that is understandable, I think I have a SERIOUS problem! I just can't get enough of it and I am so seriously in touch with the warm/fuzzy notion that I am seeing things in a far than reasonable light. My imagination is really getting out of hand these days!!!
So, let me tell you where I think this is a problem....
Disclosure: I am fully aware that I am a married woman and would never do anything to jeopardize it.
There is a saying among married people and it goes like this..... "I may be married, but I am not dead. I can look, I can admire, and I will never... NEVER touch or act upon it."
But seriously folks, I FELT INTELLECTUALLY AMBUSHED TODAY!! I am a remotely smart woman in her 40's and I have been known to hide my reactions quite well, but I am really wondering if I looked as ridiculous as I felt this morning. I never in my dizziest days thought I could feel the heat of blushing cover me from my toes to the very top of my head, nor did I feel the need to check to see if I was drooling, but I managed to see what my mind imagined was the epitome of the heroes that are written in romance novels today.... Tall, broad shoulders, soulful eyes, chiseled features, killer smile..... Yep, I came face to face with a person that made my insides melt and made me imagine all sorts of things I never can share in this blog. Heck, I think I forgot what my name was when I talked to this guy! I have serious doubts that whatever came out of my mouth made any sense and I looked like a complete moron. I believe I babbled, I think I might have said or done something funny because he did laugh, and I can honestly say that my mind spoke way too loud to hear what this person was saying to me. I do remember talking a bit about our spouses and kids (and THANK GOD for that), but other than that.... I really could not recite word-for-word what this person was trying to sell me. Well, I kind of have a clue, but chances are I am completely wrong. Fortunately, I was too dumbfounded to buy anything on the spot, but if I did not have DH's constant reminder that we just cannot afford to buy things just willy-nilly... I probably would have bought whatever he was selling. After the sales pitch was over, all I could think about is how darn lucky his wife happens to be and questioned why I settled. That, my friends, is what scared me to realize I need to stop reading romance novels. I just wonder how I can do that because grabbing a biography, mystery, suspense, or horror novel is so not appealing to me. Trust me... I have tried. UGH! I am hopeless!!!
Okay... time for me to go crawl under a rock...
Thanks for reading!
I was told that there comes a time that the need to read a certain genre of books, it is a cry of need in that aspect of your life... aka: Reading what you lack. While not all genres scream the need a certain aspect (because reading is an enjoyable outlet), it is the feeling behind the writing that attracts a person to it. Trust me, I have not met a person that feels that they are lacking witches and wizards or dragons in their life, as well as psychopathic serial killers, but when it comes to fictional romance novels or non-fiction works like biographies... there is a hidden meaning to the enjoyment of the books... and understandable at that.
While some people have told me that in order to truly get a genre of books out of your system, you need to read until the breaking point of boredom to finally get release from the attachment. In fact, one person mentioned to me that reading romance novels offers a chance to connect to an aspect that taps an inner part of you that you choose to hide from. While all of that is understandable, I think I have a SERIOUS problem! I just can't get enough of it and I am so seriously in touch with the warm/fuzzy notion that I am seeing things in a far than reasonable light. My imagination is really getting out of hand these days!!!
So, let me tell you where I think this is a problem....
Disclosure: I am fully aware that I am a married woman and would never do anything to jeopardize it.
There is a saying among married people and it goes like this..... "I may be married, but I am not dead. I can look, I can admire, and I will never... NEVER touch or act upon it."
But seriously folks, I FELT INTELLECTUALLY AMBUSHED TODAY!! I am a remotely smart woman in her 40's and I have been known to hide my reactions quite well, but I am really wondering if I looked as ridiculous as I felt this morning. I never in my dizziest days thought I could feel the heat of blushing cover me from my toes to the very top of my head, nor did I feel the need to check to see if I was drooling, but I managed to see what my mind imagined was the epitome of the heroes that are written in romance novels today.... Tall, broad shoulders, soulful eyes, chiseled features, killer smile..... Yep, I came face to face with a person that made my insides melt and made me imagine all sorts of things I never can share in this blog. Heck, I think I forgot what my name was when I talked to this guy! I have serious doubts that whatever came out of my mouth made any sense and I looked like a complete moron. I believe I babbled, I think I might have said or done something funny because he did laugh, and I can honestly say that my mind spoke way too loud to hear what this person was saying to me. I do remember talking a bit about our spouses and kids (and THANK GOD for that), but other than that.... I really could not recite word-for-word what this person was trying to sell me. Well, I kind of have a clue, but chances are I am completely wrong. Fortunately, I was too dumbfounded to buy anything on the spot, but if I did not have DH's constant reminder that we just cannot afford to buy things just willy-nilly... I probably would have bought whatever he was selling. After the sales pitch was over, all I could think about is how darn lucky his wife happens to be and questioned why I settled. That, my friends, is what scared me to realize I need to stop reading romance novels. I just wonder how I can do that because grabbing a biography, mystery, suspense, or horror novel is so not appealing to me. Trust me... I have tried. UGH! I am hopeless!!!
Okay... time for me to go crawl under a rock...
Thanks for reading!
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Sometimes you just gotta....
Don't cry, sweetie.
I know you have been trying so hard...
Why is it that when the strongest need a release, they are told not to? Release, that is.... albeit a good hard cry to just let it all go. I swear, I am a walking pressure cooker of control. I hold in my frustrations, I hold back my sorrow, and do my best to look happy when I am at my worst.
With years of practice of emulating June Cleaver with my ability to cook, clean, and rear the child with a smile on my face is getting a bit much. Regardless of how my day truly is, DH holds little patience in hearing me vent about my day and after many sternly worded comments about my attitude needing some serious adjustment... I grit my teeth and put on my best act that everything is just perfect. Otherwise, expressing that I am human is only getting me into trouble when it comes to DH. Sleep deprived? Suck it up! Hungover from the once a month outing with friends? Better act like it never happened! Sad about something? Plaster a smile on your face! In pain? Crack jokes about it! Mad about something? Keep it to yourself! The only allowed emotion is to be HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY!!! ACK!! Pass the Prozac, people! It is supposed to be a happy fest!!
You all may see this as I am living in a very unfair existence, I have managed to learn something from this....
Who really wants to deal with an emotional being? Saying "sorry" to a person's personal demise does not come close to mending the tear in a person's heart. Life is not meant to be easy. We all have our crosses to bear; our issues to deal with. Yes, DH has made it crystal clear that since I am a stay at home caregiver, I should not be having such emotional issues that require his assistance... even if I am not actually asking for assistance... just release. In fact, he sees my current career of caring for the family first as a perpetual vacation from reality. When things were getting hard financially, I was told to find a job that does not interfere with my current responsibilities of keeping the house clean, the laundry up to snuff, raise our child, and having a hot meal waiting for DH when he gets home. Yep, the classic television of Leave it to Beaver, The Brady Bunch, and the even more squeaky clean family dynamic of Ozzie and Harriet Nelson are what DH sees as what the ideal family life is supposed to be. Apparently, those views are quite different than the modern age family that has computers, cell phones, and video games. Kids these days have less respect for their parents and as each generation whips by, we see kids achieving things their parents were never allowed to achieve when they were their age, but still, the notion of being a happy housewife all the time is a requirement.
DH came home from lunch as I was doubled over in agony. Only two words can explain my situation without becoming a T.M.I. segment.... it sums up to.... "Woman's issues". With Tylenol being popped like Tic Tac candies, heating pad firmly placed across my lower stomach area and a greenish tinge to my skin (severe pain makes me nauseous), I had to plant a smile on my face and look all excited that I was blessed with his presence. After he leaves, the phone rings. It is the person that did a phone interview with me for a job at the local high school last week. So local, I could walk there. The job.... Student Supervisor (aka hall monitor). Ideal for me since it is the only job that mimics DD's school schedule and the hours are quite similar. This allows me to be home when she is and home early enough each day to run around like a lunatic to keep up with my daily chores that usually take me all day to accomplish. At least if something was done.... DH's stern words are held at bay. Well, I have been applying for this job at least a half dozen times over the past 2 years. I am on the substitute list and can get called in to help if someone calls in sick, but it is far from something that offers a consistent paycheck. Every time I apply, I put my best foot forward and yet again get passed up for the opportunity.
Getting rejected for a job is getting quite tiresome, but I have managed to handle the rejection quite well over the years. It was just the icing on an already miserable cake that set me to crying. When the tears were about to go pouring down, I called my mom to tell her about the recent rejection for a job. Thinking I had everything under control, I get the usual, "sorry to hear that". When my breathing started to hitch with sadness, I got yet the reminder that crying does not fix anything. That, of course, beings me back to the words my father told me.... "Crying is a sign of weakness. If you want people to see how strong you are, you need to not cry in front of them." I swear, I took pride that I did not cry when I broke my ankle years back, I did not cry while giving birth to my daughter, I did not cry when I was doubled over in agony before my gall bladder needed to be removed.... Yep, I have been one tough cookie and my dad should have been proud. Sadly, I feel like I failed him because I decided that it is time to really let loose and cry very loudly after I hung up the phone. I knew that if I did not.... I would definitely lose my mind.
Did you know, that after 5 minutes of really crying out loud, I actually feel better? It was a much needed release. Just letting the tears flow with my sobbing at full volume ended up being the one remedy for my always thinking mind. I was able to look at that rejection call as just another minor setback that I will survive from. With the small chant of "what does not kill me, makes me stronger", I was able to look calm and composed before DD came home from school. Odds look pretty good that DH will not see me be emotional and can maintain the June Cleaver attitude when he gets home this evening. I will even be able to handle hearing his emotional rants about his frustrating day and even his tense talking about the fact that I accomplished nothing I should have accomplished today. At least a physical setback is understandable in his eyes. As long as he does not hear all the details about it. If it was an emotional setback.... well, that is just not an acceptable excuse.
So, if you are feeling like an emotional pressure cooker and you are nearing the explosion point.... take just 5 minutes alone and LET IT GO. Scream, cry loudly, swear, rant, complain loudly, throw a pillow across the room.... whatever it takes to let off some steam. Trust me. You may feel ridiculous doing it, but afterwards, you will feel so much better. It actually eases the weight upon your shoulders to a more tolerable level so you can move forward with your day. Highly recommended! Well, now I need to get back to my heating pad and pop a couple more Tylenol. Maybe this round will make it possible to not want to throw up and maybe eat some dinner with DD while keeping DH's plate warm for him when he gets home.
I know you have been trying so hard...
Why is it that when the strongest need a release, they are told not to? Release, that is.... albeit a good hard cry to just let it all go. I swear, I am a walking pressure cooker of control. I hold in my frustrations, I hold back my sorrow, and do my best to look happy when I am at my worst.
With years of practice of emulating June Cleaver with my ability to cook, clean, and rear the child with a smile on my face is getting a bit much. Regardless of how my day truly is, DH holds little patience in hearing me vent about my day and after many sternly worded comments about my attitude needing some serious adjustment... I grit my teeth and put on my best act that everything is just perfect. Otherwise, expressing that I am human is only getting me into trouble when it comes to DH. Sleep deprived? Suck it up! Hungover from the once a month outing with friends? Better act like it never happened! Sad about something? Plaster a smile on your face! In pain? Crack jokes about it! Mad about something? Keep it to yourself! The only allowed emotion is to be HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY!!! ACK!! Pass the Prozac, people! It is supposed to be a happy fest!!
You all may see this as I am living in a very unfair existence, I have managed to learn something from this....
Who really wants to deal with an emotional being? Saying "sorry" to a person's personal demise does not come close to mending the tear in a person's heart. Life is not meant to be easy. We all have our crosses to bear; our issues to deal with. Yes, DH has made it crystal clear that since I am a stay at home caregiver, I should not be having such emotional issues that require his assistance... even if I am not actually asking for assistance... just release. In fact, he sees my current career of caring for the family first as a perpetual vacation from reality. When things were getting hard financially, I was told to find a job that does not interfere with my current responsibilities of keeping the house clean, the laundry up to snuff, raise our child, and having a hot meal waiting for DH when he gets home. Yep, the classic television of Leave it to Beaver, The Brady Bunch, and the even more squeaky clean family dynamic of Ozzie and Harriet Nelson are what DH sees as what the ideal family life is supposed to be. Apparently, those views are quite different than the modern age family that has computers, cell phones, and video games. Kids these days have less respect for their parents and as each generation whips by, we see kids achieving things their parents were never allowed to achieve when they were their age, but still, the notion of being a happy housewife all the time is a requirement.
DH came home from lunch as I was doubled over in agony. Only two words can explain my situation without becoming a T.M.I. segment.... it sums up to.... "Woman's issues". With Tylenol being popped like Tic Tac candies, heating pad firmly placed across my lower stomach area and a greenish tinge to my skin (severe pain makes me nauseous), I had to plant a smile on my face and look all excited that I was blessed with his presence. After he leaves, the phone rings. It is the person that did a phone interview with me for a job at the local high school last week. So local, I could walk there. The job.... Student Supervisor (aka hall monitor). Ideal for me since it is the only job that mimics DD's school schedule and the hours are quite similar. This allows me to be home when she is and home early enough each day to run around like a lunatic to keep up with my daily chores that usually take me all day to accomplish. At least if something was done.... DH's stern words are held at bay. Well, I have been applying for this job at least a half dozen times over the past 2 years. I am on the substitute list and can get called in to help if someone calls in sick, but it is far from something that offers a consistent paycheck. Every time I apply, I put my best foot forward and yet again get passed up for the opportunity.
Getting rejected for a job is getting quite tiresome, but I have managed to handle the rejection quite well over the years. It was just the icing on an already miserable cake that set me to crying. When the tears were about to go pouring down, I called my mom to tell her about the recent rejection for a job. Thinking I had everything under control, I get the usual, "sorry to hear that". When my breathing started to hitch with sadness, I got yet the reminder that crying does not fix anything. That, of course, beings me back to the words my father told me.... "Crying is a sign of weakness. If you want people to see how strong you are, you need to not cry in front of them." I swear, I took pride that I did not cry when I broke my ankle years back, I did not cry while giving birth to my daughter, I did not cry when I was doubled over in agony before my gall bladder needed to be removed.... Yep, I have been one tough cookie and my dad should have been proud. Sadly, I feel like I failed him because I decided that it is time to really let loose and cry very loudly after I hung up the phone. I knew that if I did not.... I would definitely lose my mind.
Did you know, that after 5 minutes of really crying out loud, I actually feel better? It was a much needed release. Just letting the tears flow with my sobbing at full volume ended up being the one remedy for my always thinking mind. I was able to look at that rejection call as just another minor setback that I will survive from. With the small chant of "what does not kill me, makes me stronger", I was able to look calm and composed before DD came home from school. Odds look pretty good that DH will not see me be emotional and can maintain the June Cleaver attitude when he gets home this evening. I will even be able to handle hearing his emotional rants about his frustrating day and even his tense talking about the fact that I accomplished nothing I should have accomplished today. At least a physical setback is understandable in his eyes. As long as he does not hear all the details about it. If it was an emotional setback.... well, that is just not an acceptable excuse.
So, if you are feeling like an emotional pressure cooker and you are nearing the explosion point.... take just 5 minutes alone and LET IT GO. Scream, cry loudly, swear, rant, complain loudly, throw a pillow across the room.... whatever it takes to let off some steam. Trust me. You may feel ridiculous doing it, but afterwards, you will feel so much better. It actually eases the weight upon your shoulders to a more tolerable level so you can move forward with your day. Highly recommended! Well, now I need to get back to my heating pad and pop a couple more Tylenol. Maybe this round will make it possible to not want to throw up and maybe eat some dinner with DD while keeping DH's plate warm for him when he gets home.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Learned opinion of one's self....
I went to a gathering last night and learned something that I needed to share....
Did you know that it is quite possible to learn your opinion of yourself?
As I sat there among friends, I realized that there is much to learn about yourself beyond the social aspect. Sadly, it is not the most positive thought, in fact, I succumbed to actually crying in public and fled because of it. I was just amazed that I lasted as long as I did.
Pretty depressing, I have to admit, but a revelation nonetheless....
If you are not ready to hear my sob story... you are allowed to stop here and go on with your day. Thanks for getting this far. If you are ready to read a very disturbing thought... please feel free to read on.
Last night, I attended a "girls night out" that also offered beyond the usual drinking and light conversation to including a "white elephant" gift exchange. What is "white elephant", you ask? Well, it is usually a crap shoot of what you end up with at the end of the evening when it comes to a gift purchase limit of lets say... $15. The gift can range from humorous to cute and everything in between. It is basically what a person can think of for an expense of $15 or less (well, in some cases more if the limit is set higher). Needless to say... there was a wide range to what the participants provided. After each person grabbed a random gift, exchanging your selection went into full force. What you originally selected was not necessarily what you took home. People had the option to swap what they had with another for something that they would rather have.
My evening started off with the gift of chocolates and some wine, but ended with a tin filled with sensual stuff that couples are to enjoy in a romantic setting. In all honesty, I would have been better off with the wine and chocolates since romance is basically dead in my life. As I was told, not too long ago, that even if the mind is willing... the body can think otherwise. Blame it on recent medications, blame it on a medical condition, but once the blame has been announced.... there is no chance that some oils, incense, and candles is going to change the fact it is just not gonna happen.
As I watched perfectly capable women in perfectly capable relationships pass this gift offering, I knew that ending up with this gift was not going to change my chances for a romantic encounter with DH. It made me sad to know that regardless of the good intentions of the friend that took my wine and chocolates to give me the "romance tin of goodies", I will never get the opportunity to put that stuff to use. That optimistic attitude that was offered to me felt more like a punch in the stomach than a thought of hope for me. I was raised to appreciate what is offered to me regardless of how I feel about it, and accepted what I got with a smile on my face. I just could not really share the fact that I have been told by the one that I love that even though the mind may be willing.... the body is not. The current excuse is the medications that he needs to take to be healthy. I, obviously know better. The fire of desire died well before his "condition" that requires medications. I am that hopeless romantic that clings on to those three little words I hear from DH from time to time, but have to accept that all I am deserving of is words. I am looked upon as a caregiver, cook and maid... no longer a vital woman that is desired, but told she is loved. I guess something is better than nothing, right?
For years, I knew that the change in my body after DD was born resulted in less than the look of those scantily clad models that grace the calendars that hang on the walls of a man's garage, the bodies that show off more skin in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, or the sexual enticement that is in full color and made to be centerfolds in those magazines for men that regardless of what they claim is strictly for the articles (of which we woman are smart enough to know better) like Playboy or Hustler. What I happen to be is an average woman that dealt with the ravages of pregnancy and the losing battle to snap back to the fighting weight that I had well before I had a child. I know that it is not pretty, I know that stretch marks are not beautiful, nor is the distorted shape that happens after childbirth. I always believed that beauty was to come from within, but lets be honest.... it is the external appearance that matters most.
As I have tried to change my appearance, I know that I am an emotional eater. I try to fill the void in my life with food.... especially chocolate. It is hard to fight the emotional barriers that manage to sabotage my attempts to obtaining the ideal body that can get the attention that I so desperately crave.
Alone and feeling unwanted has managed to seep it's ugly feeling into my social life. I actually felt sick being out with my friends I know that do not judge me by my appearance. I have been told that they like me for who I am but who am I if I hate myself? I noticed my ability to be in a room filled with people, yet not be seen. I keep a distance from people nowadays. I am ashamed of what I have become, but not strong enough to do something about it. Trust me... I have tried and continuously failed. As I looked around the room for some sense of belonging... I found none. I put my best foot forward and still felt inadequate. The moment that a friend tried to convince me that it is not me that is lacking in order to feel better.... I lost it and started to cry. I was losing control at hiding my true feelings about myself and I knew it was time to leave. Nobody needs to see the pain I feel... Nobody needs to hear the sad story that I live... Nobody needs to deal with the baggage that I carry from day-to-day. This is my personal Hell that I deal with alone. I strive to hide that from everyone and with that weak moment that I had.... I have no doubt that they are thankful that I left.
What I did manage to learn from this is that I am no longer able to handle social situations as well as I used to. The experiences that I have had managed to teach me to hate myself even more than before and with that firmly residing under my skin... I am now even less able to push it down to hide it from everyone that gets near me. The one person that understood me and knew what to do to get me out of this funk is living in another state. I have been hearing less from her lately and she is not here to smack me in the head to just knock off the negativity that bubbles inside me. I do not blame her for my misery... I blame myself. I just really have nobody that can pull me from this downward spiral that is pulling me deeper and deeper into an introvert. The one person that could possibly change my attitude about myself beyond what my best friend can do is not interested and tells me that I need to get my head out of my backside; that I am apparently off my rocker, but cannot offer me any proof to show me that I am. The moment that I feel I need support, I am left to my own devises to deal with it. I am basically a dog that has been smacked with the newspaper far too often and left in that small cage to think about what I supposedly did wrong, but too clueless to know what it is or what to do about it. In all honesty, I have not been smacked with a newspaper nor stuck in a small cage to think about it, but it sure does feel that way. Really, I should not rely upon others to make me feel better about myself, but I do. Whatever I have tried to do is apparently not enough and never will be enough. I am now too tired to try anymore. I guess I am better off reading about someone else's happily ever after since I sure as heck is not deserving of one. I can only guess that I am asking for too much and not deserving of such a tall order. Sigh... oh well... as the saying goes.... life never gives you what you want, life only gives you what you are supposed to handle or what it feels you deserve. Time to face the music.... this is what I deserve... I need to deal with it because it certainly is not going to change any time soon. I guess what I need to do is look for the good in a lousy situation, hold onto it for dear life and hope it propels me forward to something greater.
Thanks for reading. Sorry it is such as depressing thought. Have a nice day regardless.....
Did you know that it is quite possible to learn your opinion of yourself?
As I sat there among friends, I realized that there is much to learn about yourself beyond the social aspect. Sadly, it is not the most positive thought, in fact, I succumbed to actually crying in public and fled because of it. I was just amazed that I lasted as long as I did.
Pretty depressing, I have to admit, but a revelation nonetheless....
If you are not ready to hear my sob story... you are allowed to stop here and go on with your day. Thanks for getting this far. If you are ready to read a very disturbing thought... please feel free to read on.
Last night, I attended a "girls night out" that also offered beyond the usual drinking and light conversation to including a "white elephant" gift exchange. What is "white elephant", you ask? Well, it is usually a crap shoot of what you end up with at the end of the evening when it comes to a gift purchase limit of lets say... $15. The gift can range from humorous to cute and everything in between. It is basically what a person can think of for an expense of $15 or less (well, in some cases more if the limit is set higher). Needless to say... there was a wide range to what the participants provided. After each person grabbed a random gift, exchanging your selection went into full force. What you originally selected was not necessarily what you took home. People had the option to swap what they had with another for something that they would rather have.
My evening started off with the gift of chocolates and some wine, but ended with a tin filled with sensual stuff that couples are to enjoy in a romantic setting. In all honesty, I would have been better off with the wine and chocolates since romance is basically dead in my life. As I was told, not too long ago, that even if the mind is willing... the body can think otherwise. Blame it on recent medications, blame it on a medical condition, but once the blame has been announced.... there is no chance that some oils, incense, and candles is going to change the fact it is just not gonna happen.
As I watched perfectly capable women in perfectly capable relationships pass this gift offering, I knew that ending up with this gift was not going to change my chances for a romantic encounter with DH. It made me sad to know that regardless of the good intentions of the friend that took my wine and chocolates to give me the "romance tin of goodies", I will never get the opportunity to put that stuff to use. That optimistic attitude that was offered to me felt more like a punch in the stomach than a thought of hope for me. I was raised to appreciate what is offered to me regardless of how I feel about it, and accepted what I got with a smile on my face. I just could not really share the fact that I have been told by the one that I love that even though the mind may be willing.... the body is not. The current excuse is the medications that he needs to take to be healthy. I, obviously know better. The fire of desire died well before his "condition" that requires medications. I am that hopeless romantic that clings on to those three little words I hear from DH from time to time, but have to accept that all I am deserving of is words. I am looked upon as a caregiver, cook and maid... no longer a vital woman that is desired, but told she is loved. I guess something is better than nothing, right?
For years, I knew that the change in my body after DD was born resulted in less than the look of those scantily clad models that grace the calendars that hang on the walls of a man's garage, the bodies that show off more skin in the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, or the sexual enticement that is in full color and made to be centerfolds in those magazines for men that regardless of what they claim is strictly for the articles (of which we woman are smart enough to know better) like Playboy or Hustler. What I happen to be is an average woman that dealt with the ravages of pregnancy and the losing battle to snap back to the fighting weight that I had well before I had a child. I know that it is not pretty, I know that stretch marks are not beautiful, nor is the distorted shape that happens after childbirth. I always believed that beauty was to come from within, but lets be honest.... it is the external appearance that matters most.
As I have tried to change my appearance, I know that I am an emotional eater. I try to fill the void in my life with food.... especially chocolate. It is hard to fight the emotional barriers that manage to sabotage my attempts to obtaining the ideal body that can get the attention that I so desperately crave.
Alone and feeling unwanted has managed to seep it's ugly feeling into my social life. I actually felt sick being out with my friends I know that do not judge me by my appearance. I have been told that they like me for who I am but who am I if I hate myself? I noticed my ability to be in a room filled with people, yet not be seen. I keep a distance from people nowadays. I am ashamed of what I have become, but not strong enough to do something about it. Trust me... I have tried and continuously failed. As I looked around the room for some sense of belonging... I found none. I put my best foot forward and still felt inadequate. The moment that a friend tried to convince me that it is not me that is lacking in order to feel better.... I lost it and started to cry. I was losing control at hiding my true feelings about myself and I knew it was time to leave. Nobody needs to see the pain I feel... Nobody needs to hear the sad story that I live... Nobody needs to deal with the baggage that I carry from day-to-day. This is my personal Hell that I deal with alone. I strive to hide that from everyone and with that weak moment that I had.... I have no doubt that they are thankful that I left.
What I did manage to learn from this is that I am no longer able to handle social situations as well as I used to. The experiences that I have had managed to teach me to hate myself even more than before and with that firmly residing under my skin... I am now even less able to push it down to hide it from everyone that gets near me. The one person that understood me and knew what to do to get me out of this funk is living in another state. I have been hearing less from her lately and she is not here to smack me in the head to just knock off the negativity that bubbles inside me. I do not blame her for my misery... I blame myself. I just really have nobody that can pull me from this downward spiral that is pulling me deeper and deeper into an introvert. The one person that could possibly change my attitude about myself beyond what my best friend can do is not interested and tells me that I need to get my head out of my backside; that I am apparently off my rocker, but cannot offer me any proof to show me that I am. The moment that I feel I need support, I am left to my own devises to deal with it. I am basically a dog that has been smacked with the newspaper far too often and left in that small cage to think about what I supposedly did wrong, but too clueless to know what it is or what to do about it. In all honesty, I have not been smacked with a newspaper nor stuck in a small cage to think about it, but it sure does feel that way. Really, I should not rely upon others to make me feel better about myself, but I do. Whatever I have tried to do is apparently not enough and never will be enough. I am now too tired to try anymore. I guess I am better off reading about someone else's happily ever after since I sure as heck is not deserving of one. I can only guess that I am asking for too much and not deserving of such a tall order. Sigh... oh well... as the saying goes.... life never gives you what you want, life only gives you what you are supposed to handle or what it feels you deserve. Time to face the music.... this is what I deserve... I need to deal with it because it certainly is not going to change any time soon. I guess what I need to do is look for the good in a lousy situation, hold onto it for dear life and hope it propels me forward to something greater.
Thanks for reading. Sorry it is such as depressing thought. Have a nice day regardless.....
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