Categories of Motivation in your Career - my take

I am a firm believe that understanding why something makes you happy is way more important than what makes you happy. So often we tell people to do what they love but that’s a really weird statement. I love to eat. That does not mean I should become a competitive eater. That doesn’t even mean I should become a food critic. In fact, even though I love to bake I have no desire what so ever to open a bakery. Why? Because none of these would make me happy. That’s because I understand the why eating makes me happy. My obsession with food is not what this is about so lets stick to the topic.

Another problem with that statement is that it assumes that what makes us happy will make us happy always. Once again, not true. I used to love any death by chocolate dessert. Now, it’s just too sweet and not worth the calories. My palate changed and so did my priorities. Now I would go for some cheesecake or maybe a dark chocolate turtle candy. I didn’t like either of those when I was a kid. So understanding the why helps you to better handle the need to change direction in a way that can get you feeling happy again.

I should probably eat dinner but I’ll do that after I’m done typing this.

So I believe there are about 7 categories or types of motivators we fall into. We often have more than one, and sometimes they can conflict with each other which when we don’t acknowledge what they are can leave us feeling depleted and guilty.

So here’s my recommendation. Read through the list. See if any of these ring true to you. If more than 2 do, force rank them, not everything is of equal importance. Do not feel guilty about the choices or the order. Once you understand the why, you can then start to think in terms of the how, what, where and when.

The List.

1 - Money - this is about the money you actively make. So not like your retirement investments or “passive income” (I hate that phrase). This is your salary, tips, bonuses, side hustles and any where you effort directly impacts the amount you make. This is the one that probably gets judged the most and yet is a completely logical goal. It is also the one that can make you loose your way the fastest if you don’t have strong personal goals to help balance. Here focus is key. You can have a ton of ideas but if you don’t execute you won’t make jack. Have an accountability partner.

2 - Climbing the Ladder - This can be climbing the corporate ladder, starting your own business with the goal of franchising it, going into management, etc. The goal here is to expand your power and control in the business setting. This one is more acceptable in society but does have some judgement, especially if you are a mother. It is also one that can have the biggest impact on your personal life due to the asks. Learn to network and get a mentor(s).

3. Notoriety - This can be fame, being the subject matter expert, being asked to speak at conferences, the go to person in your field, being an Influencer. This is the one most people have a hard time admitting and don’t understand the effort that will be needed for this. It’s okay to want this one. But you also need to understand it will not come easily, you will need to work your ass off, often doing stuff for free at the beginning and will be the hardest to set work/life boundaries but will be needed for your sanity. I could go into detail but I will say just go listen to Gary V’s podcasts, he will do a much better job on this than I will.

4. Flexibility - Work from home, great vacation plan, 4 day work week, schedule work around other appointments, etc. We all understand why this is alluring but this is the one that conflicts the most with the others on this list and will call for the most sacrifices for your career.

5. Autonomy - Ability to schedule your workday yourself. To decide how to do a project yourself. The minimal amount of management and really only there when you need it. This is often one that folks who love to innovate go for. It makes sense and autonomy still can work in a team setting. But it can also be rough for a career because you can end up butting heads with others if you don’t learn how to play nice. There is really no job out there that doesn’t involve at least someone somewhere with an ask of you.

6. Sense of Accomplishment - This can be working towards a larger goal or being able to cross items off a list. Quite often these go hand in hand but not necessarily. You can work for an organization working to cure cancer that never seems to get anything formally finished and you can be miserable. You can cross off all your to-do items and feel miserable because you don’t see it contributing to a larger goal. Understanding which one or both of these might be needed to scratch that itch can really help choose what company you want to work for.

7. People - Who you work with. This can be your co-workers, your customers or both. Deriving happiness from your work environment is really all about the people for you. Knowing this can help when looking for a job, deciding on a promotion or even if you want to work from home or not.

I could go into a lot more detail. And I might break these down and do that. But really the main thing here is that none of these are bad. None of these are inherently better than another. These are really looking to decide what makes you feel like you were productive in a day. That helps to get you out of bed in the morning. That is key.

Then you can start to look at what you are good at and what fields you are interested in with a more nuanced approach that can help drill into what will get you what you really need day to day. Work is good for you because it gives us purpose. But work that doesn’t fulfill us can suck the soul out of us and impact our personal lives as well. No what makes you tick. It solves a lot of life’s problems.

Goals to Accomplish by End of 2020

I’ve been thinking about this past year. Though lately I have been trying new thing - acupuncture, cupping, asking a guy out, etc the rest of the year has been pretty stagnant. I got in a rut. I really didn’t push myself or really work on improving much this year.

I don’t want 2020 to be that way. Once I realized that I have been so directionless I have started to embrace trying new things and forcing myself to push past both the fear and procrastination I have a tendency of falling into, especially since I work from home and my home is incredibly comfortable.

So I started to put together a list. The list is a wide range of crap that I want to do. Since there is so much of it I tried to focus any thing that would take time such as a skill to a very specific low level of development goal. Some - doing the whole thing is pretty low level but others I picked a very specific item like a certain song to learn. This way it is clear when I accomplish the goal.

Others I just say try such as certain classes or such. These are things I have been interested in but not sure it is really something I want to pursue fully. This way I don’t feel pressure to learn it correctly but to at least try it.

So why list them out publicly? Because putting it out there makes me accountable. Because putting them out can also encourage someone who might have always wanted to try one go Hey Diane - I want to come with you to that. Or maybe it’s oh hey Diane I know the exact place to go take a class on that. And that encourages me to do it as well. So it all works in my favor.

I have already started on some of these. I will probably start an extra credit list to add other things that I think of trying as I go. And I will probably cross some off before the end of this year. I will probably have to update the website and have a checklist on the side to show what I have crossed off versus what’s left. But that is the point. To really focus myself into going out and trying things, not to just sit around watching sports or YouTube. I love both but I also want to live my life, not just watch other peoples.

Goals to accomplish by End of 2020

1.         Finish Novel from Nanowrimo challenge including Edit

2.        Learn Photoshop – Photoshop a picture I would frame

3.        Learn Video Editing – Edit a video I shot with transitions

4.       Bench 70 Lbs

5.        Run a 10 minute mile without knee pain

6.       Fit into the Betty Paige Dress

7.        Help a person/company/non-profit build a social media plan

8.       Follow a Budget

9.       Learn Archery – hit target consistently well at 25m with 30 lb bow

10.   Make recipe book for family/friends

11.      Join a Board

12.    Visit Puerto Rico

13.    Learn to Juggle – 3 balls

14.   Solve a rubix cube in under one minute

15.     Sing in front of people

16.    Finish a half marathon

17.    Learn to make Wela’s soup

18.    Make Dad’s pie

19.    Do the splits

20.  Do a handstand and hold for a minute (feet touching okay)

21.    Certificate from MIT

22.   Try a pole dancing class

23.   Try an aerial silks class

24.  Learn to salsa – basic moves and rhythm

25.   Learn to tango – basic moves and rhythm

26.  Try a cycle class

27.   See a medium

28.  No pop for a month

29.  New Tattoo

30.  Speak easy convo with Wela in Spanish

31.    Make Great Grandma’s stuffed grape leaves

32.   Make three tier cake

33.   Sew a new apron

34.  Embroider new apron

35.   Spend an entire day (at least 8 hours) at the beach

36.  Learn Calligraphy (one type)

37.   Take a Hot Air Balloon Ride

38.   Take a ski class

39.  Take a gun safety class

40. Learn to pick a lock

41.   Learn to play guitar – be able to play Hand in my Pocket

42.  Learn to change a tire

43.  Take a glass blowing class

44. Get my passport

45.  Spend a day in bed on purpose

46. Rock climbing (try again)

47.  Go skinny dipping

48.  Host an outdoor movie night

49. Attend a Ted Talk

50.  Learn to hacky sack

51.     Plank for 5 minutes

52.   Make homemade pasta

53.   Make boozy chocolates

54.  Start a fire without matches

55.   Get hypnotized

56.  Learn to blow a smoke ring

57.   Go to a destruction room

58.   Make a balloon animal

59.  Draw a face that looks recognizable as a face

60. Go to shooting range with siblings

61.    Learn to use my camera

62.  Try fencing

63.  Go paintballing

64. Try Bubble Fighting

65.  Go ziplining

66. Try jetpacketing

67.  Try a herbal body wrap

68.  Try CrossFit

69. Go to Yuri’s Night

70.  Have my aura read

71.    Have a cabin getaway

72.   Try Pakour

73.   Eat a dry-aged steak

74.  Try a pilates class (with reformer)

75.   Take a barre class (with equipment)

76.  Go to a Ninja Warrior Gym (purely for fun)

Third day of writing - up to 6,165 - over a tenth done!

Journal #11

I can’t sleep. My insomnia is back. After everything happened with Michael I wanted to sleep all the time. It felt like all my years of not sleeping well hit me at once. I hadn’t felt that way since I was pregnant. I felt as in control of my emotions and body as I was when I was pregnant too. I could be listening to someone talking and could feel my eyes getting heavy. It was so rude but I felt like I just couldn’t get enough sleep.

Now, the insomnia is back. I have always ran on little sleep. It felt wasteful. Even sitting and watching tv I would also do other things like read or clean or work on paperwork. There was always so much to do and my brain never really shut off anyway.

But just because I was awake doesn’t mean I accomplished anything. Sometimes I would lay there wanting to go back to sleep. Other times I would have this nervous energy and couldn’t focus on what to work on. The list was massive, I always felt behind. Failing.

Now, it’s different. Now I couldn’t give a fuck. I could work, but let’s be honest, it’ll be there tomorrow and no one is going to be expecting it done that fast anyway.

I clean what I want but I don’t feel the need to scrub every little thing anymore. No one is going to complain. No one will really notice except me anyway. And if they do why do I even want to be around them. Granted I really don’t have people come over. The house reeks of tragedy and they are normally the ones bringing it in.

I tried to go to read through the massive pile of books I have bought and never read but my mind drifts away so fast from them. So many of them are personal development and feel like they were written by cheerleaders who were told they had to make a sign for a specific football player they barely know. Lots of glitter and exclamation points, but the catch phrase is generic and broad.

I would say they are trying but I am not even sure that is true. Some feel like they had an opportunity to write a book and this is what they knew they could kick out fast to capitalize on the current press they had. I did reread Crush It again. I remember listening to Gary’s podcast when Michael was little, in between Diggnation and Totally Rad Show. It might have been about wine but he was a riot. I probably shouldn’t have been listening with Michael in the car, he was so little. I exposed him to all sorts of things I probably shouldn’t have.

That is really what the insomnia keeps me up with now. The regrets. The questions of if I had done it differently. What if I didn’t divorce his dad. What if I didn’t work as much. What if I hadn’t have pushed him in school. What if. What if. What if.

Would it have changed things? Or would have life played out exactly as it did? Would it have happened earlier? Would he have put his pain outward towards others instead of inward? School shootings are all the rage right now with hurt young boys. Would have I been better at catching that?

I don’t think Michael had it in him to kill other people. I don’t think that would have been an option no matter how things played out. His anger was palpable and seemed so wrapped in entitlement. As if he had the right to complain about things he has never experienced or expected the world to change to fit his ideals. I chalked it up to immaturity and lack of life experience. It ran deeper than I knew.

It’s 2:43am right now. The cat that Tony got me is asleep. I could go to the gym. At least I could be productive and sometimes I can were myself down physically to the point I can sleep. Before I used to experiment with recipes, bake a new quiche or play with a soup. Now, it seems pointless. It’s just me here. The cat doesn’t really like soup, I checked. He does like pizza. But that’s quick to make.

No, I will continue to lay here, in bed. Once I am done typing this journal up I’ll scroll through Facebook to see what people are bitching about now and look at some misspelled memes. It will keep me busy until I can get up and start the day formally. I send an email before 5am and people freak out. There is really no point otherwise.

Maybe I should donate all these books. Maybe someone else can get use out of them. I know I won’t. And there is no point in having them just clutter up the space.

Well there is something I can do this early in the morning. Google to see where I can donate the books. Look at me being productive after all.

I guess it is somewhere still inside me still. I wonder which will eventually win out for my insomnia. The regret or the panic.

I wish I could just sleep.

Chapter 2

“Oh my God, it feels like I haven’t seen you in ages!” I feel her arms wrap around me and her enthusiasm washes over me like a spray tan.

“It’s been about a year. I think last time was Ben’s birthday last year”. Why did I come to this event? Tony had given me an out, even though his wife had thought it would be good of me to get out of the house and come. Tony had married an amazing woman, strong with a level of compassion that was real and genuine you just don’t see that often. But Tony got how much I really didn’t like people to begin with and that these type of events, aka children’s birthdays where I don’t know the vast majority of people were no where close to my thing. I would do anything for them, so of course I couldn’t miss their kid’s birthday party.

“I heard about your son.” She pushed me away still holding onto my shoulders to look at me. Her head cocked to the side. “I am so sorry for your loss.” The look on her face was that of pity. I could vomit. “It was two months ago, wasn’t it? It is so brave of you to come out to little Ben’s birthday party. It must bring back so many memories for you.” I sincerely wonder if I can ask Tony’s dad to represent me if I throw down at his grandson’s birthday party.

I feel a glass pressed into my hand. “Kathryn Kay I think your husband is looking for you. He might of misplaced one of your kids again.” Tony has impeccable timing. He always has. “Jesus that woman.” I take a sip of the whiskey neat. “You know if you wanted to slap her around a bit I would take pics. We could just say it was mental distress, no judge would convict you.”

It is hard to find friends who have as dark a sense of humor as I have. It’s also incredibly hard to find friends who the same insatiable drive I have. Tony had both and encourage both whole-heartedly. I don’t know what I would do without him in my life. The last couple of months he would check in on me with a mix of telling me what to do and telling me how much it all sucked and was fucked up. It was fucked up and it didn’t need to be sugar coated as anything other than that. And for a while there him telling me what to do was really the only thing I did. He one day showed up with a runt of a kitten and said “Here, found this guy. He needs to eat. So do you. You guys can eat together.” It was an odd way to make sure I ate, something I wasn’t really doing at the time, but damn it, it worked. I have never believed in soul mates, especially in the love area. Seemed odd to me, one person to be everything to you. But I do believe there are special people you are meant to find in your life. People who can get you on a level you sometimes don’t even get yourself on. Tony got me without me having to explain any of it.

“Alex! You came! Thank you so much, Ben will be happy to see you. I see Tony already got you a drink. There is a ton of food, help yourself. And if you want to take some home I have to go containers. We made too much.” Jessica smiled and hugged me. She smelled of cookies. I wonder if all good people fundamentally smell of cookies.

“Of course I was going to come. And you look amazing. I can smell the food from here, I bet it tastes delicious”.

“I will only say this – if you need to leave, do it. No hard feelings for not saying goodbye. I don’t want you to feel obligated. We love you, we are here for you and you do what you need to do. Okay, enough of that, just wanted to say it, now lets get you some food and a hug from Ben”.

I lean over to Tony “Honestly dude, you lucked out there”. He just does his side smile.

I head off to the area with the kids to hunt down Ben and hug him. Small children run around having fun. Now see, this I can handle. It’s not watching the kids play that is an issue. Nope it’s the adults.

I wander around a bit and find Ben. Give him a big hug and let him go back to his friends. I stop over and say hi to Tony’s parents and then go to grab some food. Most of the folks here only kind of know me. They know I’m friends with Tony from college. They seem to know that my son died but not necessarily how. I get the idea they know because no one asks if I have kids or how my kid is and keep doing the held tilt thing.

I get another plate of food and sit down with Jessica’s grandmother. The woman is a trip. We talk about old musicals until several of Tony’s and Jessica’s friends from work sit down at the table with us. I don’t know them besides KiKi’s husband and introductions happen.

KiKi’s youngest comes barreling through and falls flat on their face. You can tell it is going to be a wail because the catch the breath moment before the cry comes. KiKi comes rushing over. She sooths the child and picks them up, cradling them as they cry.

“Jesus, KiKi is turning those kids so soft. She coddles them. It is too much”. Dave, her husband says with a level of animosity towards his wife people reserve for only discussions with friends and family, something I certainly don’t qualify as. “My kids want to do things like be a gamer and youtube star and she just encourages them. They are never going to move out.”

The guys laugh. Another guy pipes up “You think that’s bad, my nephew actually told me when I called his dad a pussy I should say that because it wasn’t right. This generation is so fucking soft. They can’t handle a single damn thing without being offended. We are going to die out as a species because there will be no more men left”. This really causes them to laugh.

I look at the men. They are roughly my age and a bit older. At yet what a bunch of morons. They are bitching about the kids they literally helped raise. You don’t like how they turned out? Uhhhh…maybe you should look in the mirror.

Amanda’s grandma puts her lemonade down and clears her throat.

One of the guys eyes gets big “Oh, sorry ma’am, not appropriate language to be using”.

She just smiles. “Oh honey, none of this bothers me. I am a pussy. See a pussy can take a pounding then a push out an eight-pound kid. Pussies are strong as hell. Better than you dicks who apparently get squeezed a bit and you all start crying.”

She calming gets up and leaves the table. Since I can’t stop laughing I decide I should probably leave too.

I don’t think I have laughed since the incident. Not like that. Please Dear Lord, please let me be that baller when I’m old.

Next 2k words - almost 10% there :)

“So how was the week?” My therapist is a nice woman but frankly her voice annoys me. The way she speaks reminds me of a mom from a 80s sitcom.

“It was fine. Work was fine. Not much to do and people are being…delicate…but I’m bored. My family keeps texting which I appreciate it but at the same time I don’t. My mom keeps calling. She tries to be supportive but just keeps breaking down and crying so I end up having to make her feel better. I wish the family would text her. That would solve two problems.” I fully acknowledge I sound like a bitch right now but I since I don’t care about how the sitcom mom thinks of me I can just let the mean out. I can’t with anyone else. Everyone else I need to be more delicate than they are treating me. The consequences would be too severe if I wasn’t.

“It sounds like people are trying to show they care but not giving you what you actually need. Have you told them what you need?”

Is she kidding me right now?

“Well, I’m not sure what I need right now. And I know they need things too. So I haven’t. I figured I would just let them show me what they need and then I can figure out what I need along the way.”

“Fair enough. Do you feel like you have the right to ask people for what you want?”

I sarcastically laugh “That has never been an issue for me”.

“Do you feel like you have the right to say no to those asking you for things, especially when you are in the process of dealing with this tragedy”. This tragedy. This tragedy. It doesn’t feel right calling this a tragedy. It makes me think of theater masks of comedy and tragedy. But what would you call it? A surreal shitshow of a nightmare?

“I’m not sure it is fair to say no, especially to certain people in my life. This tragedy impacted them too. I know they are trying to be there for me, but they need support too”.

“That is not necessarily your responsibility”. Well duh. I immediately hear Billie Eilish’s Duh from her song pop in my head. It was his text notification sound on his phone. I pause for a moment because I can hear my voice cracking before I have said a word.

“Just because it isn’t my responsibility doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to be done.”

She looks at me for a moment. I think she would rather I just sit here and cry. What is the phrase, a soldier’s daughter never cries? I want to cry. But at the same time, I don’t want to cry in front of her. Not because I feel like I can’t but because it feels wrong. She didn’t know him. She doesn’t know me. It feels like I am dishonoring him by being wasting tears in front of her. God that is a really messed up way of looking at it.

“Did you start a journal like I asked?”

I exhale.

“Yep, wrote my first entry. I didn’t get an actual journal. I just started a private blog. It works better for me.”

“Good. And I’m glad you are customizing to what works best for you. Writing can help get out the thoughts and feeling that you might leave unsaid. It can give you a safe space to let out the emotions you might feel bad or guilty for having. But it can also be a good space to let other thoughts start to come in to as you heal. Which can sometimes make you feel guilty for having because they aren’t about your son. But that is normal. And letting yourself have an outlet is important”.

It’s hard to concentrate. I know I should, it’s rude not to and stupid since I am literally paying her. But the idea that I could have a thought that isn’t around Michael is insane to me. I don’t even know what that could be or what that would feel like.

I wake up and think of him. I turn on the tv and think about what he thought about that show. I eat and I think about whether he liked that food or not. I pee and I think about how he would miss the toilet. Everything is him. Everything. How can there eventually be a time when it won’t be?

And what kind of mother would I be?

I already know what kind of mother I am, I lost my son.

It should have been me.

After the appointment I swing through the drive through to pick up some food. I have to hop on a conference call but I won’t really have to talk. They will spend the first fifteen minutes talking about their kids and the weather before anything actually gets discussed. Sitting on mute is my norm with this job. I thought I would enjoy working from home a lot more but I am a bit bored. There is not enough to keep me busy and I can catch myself looking out the window for minutes at a time, lost in thought. It’s not related at all to Michael, this was the scenario before any of that happened. No, it reminds me of when I was in 6th grade. I would get finished with the work pretty fast but then had to sit there and be quiet.

I never wanted to be quiet. And being bored on top of it made it worse. But that was what was expected. So I would work on proving proofs, the mathematical laws. I would sit there and work through the logic, trying to make sure I understood the why. I was bored, I was a nerd, it made sense at the time. My teacher thought it was weird. She would tell me so. So I stopped.

Oddly enough my ability to do that is why I have the job I have. It is also why I am probably bored right now as they talk about how it was really windy there last night.

Just shoot me.

“Alex, I think you’re on mute”

Shit. “Sorry, yes, I just ordered some food. I’m STARVING and didn’t feel like cooking. What was the question?”

“Hahaha, I totally get that. No, I had just asked if it was windy there for you too last night?”

The amount of shit that could be talked about and yet it is wind. “Actually it was a pretty calm night. The sky was pretty clear and you could see the stars. It was quite beautiful”

“Oh, that sounds so nice!” “I wish the rain would let up so we could see some stars” “That is nice, should we get to the agenda?”

Ah, at least there is one sane person I can count on. I know Chris finds all of this as annoying as I do. I get that Jolene and Piper are just trying to bond in a nice work appropriate way with all of us but I just see it as wasting time. Want to bond? Let me shoot you with a paintball gun. It is a nice bonding experience and stress reliver. Plus I wouldn’t need to talk about the weather.

“You’re right Chris, we have a lot to discuss so let’s get started. Alex, can you fill us in on how the analysis is going? I know you have had a lot on your plate and”

“It’s done Piper. Its up on the drive for review. I also went ahead and built a template in case the client wants something similar again.”

There is a pregnant pause.

“Oh wow, that’s awesome. You know you don’t have to rush to get things done, we all understand that you have a lot on your plate and.”

“Piper, I enjoy the work, takes my mind off things. In fact, feel free to give me more. I like being busy.”

“You are just a miracle from heaven Alex, that would have taken me forever to do.” Jolene pipes up.

“Thank you, I appreciate it. But honestly, that’s my job. Just tell me what is needed and I’ll get it done.”

My Slack goes off on my phone, I look over and see a message from Chris – suck up.

I grab the phone and message back – better than talking about the weather.

This line is never going to move and I will starve here in a drive through roughly 250 feet from a grocery store.

I go back on mute and only half listen. Notes will go out anyway. Most of what is being discussed could have just been sent in an email. That’s how most meetings are though. I think people just want to have a human connection to make work feel more important and not feel like just a cog, so they schedule meetings. Pretend that important things are being decided when really it is just boring banter, some gossip and just a verbal checking off of to do lists. Nothing is decided, nothing changed. Yet I bet if we asked them, they would say these meetings are vital.

Well, expect for Chris and I. But we both work from home and really would rather deal with computers than people. Computers want things to be straight and to the point. No fluff, no couching commands in nice ways. It is just write the formula exactly as you need it. Code without filler. People are the opposite. If you are too honest with them, if you go straight to the point, you can break them so easily.

What evolutionary purpose does that freaking serve?

I can feel the tears start to well in my eyes. No. Not here, I am not crying in a fucking drive through.

“Alex? Can you take on the analysis for Sitwell?”

“Yes, of course, when do you need it by in time to review first before sending to the client?”

Long pause.

“Alex, are you okay? Your voice sounds…weak”

Fuck. “Oh, hahaha, sorry, I took a big sip of my coke and choked a little. I’m fine. When do you need it by?”

“Oh, hahaha, as long as you are okay, I mean, with everything, and”

“Friday, we need it by Friday Alex” Jolene cuts off Piper.

“Fantastic, you will have it. Just send me the formal criteria list and I will start as soon as I get home. Thanks!”

“No! Thank you!”

I know they are trying. But I really hate this. I want to scream at them and tell them to stop, just stop. But I know they are trying. But I just need one place, one place, where its not all about Michael. One place. Why is that so hard for people?

My Slack goes off again. Jolene – are you really okay?

Then right after Chris – How long is this meeting going to take? If they start talking about temperatures again, I’m hanging up

They are trying. I need to try too. I need to do better.

I need to be better.

But I don’t know if I can.

Nanowrimo - First 2k words

Okay - first 2k words. Super rough, just let it flow. Editing will come next month. Let me know what you think :)

I love my son. I mean, I loved my son. No, I still do love my son. I don’t know how to say this. Shit. I am going to have to say this for the rest of my life and I don’t know what to say. Now that he’s gone, language would dictate that I use past tense, but it isn’t like the love went away with him. Is there a better word? Is there a better word in another language? Do I need to learn another language to be able to express how I feel?

He always used to reference German. Apparently German has a lot of words for odd moments and feelings in your life. Dear God, I am not going to hear that anymore, will I? I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t want to do this. I want to wake up. I want him to walk in the door and annoy the hell out of me. I want to be angry that he isn’t getting his life together. I want to sit and watch YouTube videos about movies with him and debate the merits of the critiques. I want to make him watch trailers of new movies coming out so we can both be excited about them. I want him here.

I want him here.

I want to scream.

It fucking sucks.

I know I am supposed to understand. I know that I am supposed to know that he lost the battle against his own fucked up mind. But I am pissed. He was on meds. He went to therapy. Why the fuck didn’t they work? I want to go and scream and hit the therapist. She should have seen it coming. She should have stopped him. IT WAS HER JOB. But she failed.

Why didn’t the meds work? Are there better meds? Would he still be here if he was on them? Or was there something defective about the ones he was taking. Do I need to write the FDA? Do I need to write the company? Do I need to push to have my Senator do a Congressional hearing on the meds? Are there other mothers who this damn drug failed to keep their children alive?

He wasn’t perfect. He was spoiled. I wanted him to have a better childhood, an easier childhood than what I had. I wanted him to have a better life than mine.

To grow up poor, that seep into your bones. Being poor teaches you to not take risks. If you don’t do what the teacher tells you, you will get into trouble. But there are no parents who can put you into a private school or pay your way into a good college. No, it is all on you. So you do what you are told or you will end up homeless. And you see it. Everyday you see it. Kids wearing socks on their hands because their parents can’t afford gloves for them. Good kids who you can see the potential. But Jesus the way they are treated. Burdens by everyone. My mom never treated me that way, but I saw so many other parents treat their kids that way. They were tired, they were trying to keep a roof over everyone’s head. They didn’t have the time for their kids because they had to keep them alive. And the teachers? They don’t want to be in that school. They want the posh privileged ones with the good books, the good salaries, the better-quality kids. Oh they didn’t have to say it but boy did they show it. So you either shut the fuck up and do what you are told or you will be a failure. And that can be chosen for you way early.

The idea that somehow anyone can make it is bullshit. Not because it isn’t true that with hard work people can succeed. No, that is true. No the bullshit is that it has not been or ever was an even playing field. And they handicap the fuck out of poor kids. They are shown in every way that they are less than. That there are people better than them and deserve more because they are fundamentally better. That being poor is a personality defect. From the get-go they are taught to be cogs in a machine. A machine that will be run by those better-quality kids. That isn’t meant for us. And they drill that in your head from the get-go.

But yet when anyone pushes for an equal playing field for the kids somehow that is the parents’ responsibility. Really? Well if they were raised poor to be cogs in a wheel too, do you think maybe they never stood a chance either dumbasses?

I can’t say that out loud though. My life is so different now. I broke the mold. I had help. I learned to take risks. I learned to stop feeling like there are people who are superior to me. I’m surrounded by people who have never gone hungry or worried about food other than when is the break in the meeting or where to eat in their entire lives. I am happy for them. Everyone should have that. But that is such a different experience than mine. And that is something hard to imagine. But that leaves me alone.

And I worked so hard, fought so hard, to make sure my son never knew that feeling. That he never would. I wanted him to be like the people I am surrounded with every day. I never wanted him to feel like he was less than because of where he grew up or who his family was. I wanted better for him. I wanted to shield him from the things that hardened me.

Maybe that was a mistake.

Maybe I went too much the other direction.

Maybe I left him vulnerable to other demons that would haunt him.

I saw so much potential in him. He is brilliant. Was brilliant. Creative and kind, daring and energetic. He could solve things in his mind so quickly. It had it dark side too. When you can see things for what they are you see things for what they are. That is dangerous when you are young. I remember. I saw it young too. But that motivated me to fight harder. That overwhelmed him.

I saw what he could do and I pushed him. I wanted him to take chances. I wanted him to speak his mind. I wanted him to never feel like he couldn’t be what he wanted to be. That he was less than or didn’t deserve it. I remember those kids. I remember the teacher telling them to sit down and be quiet. Brilliant minds being silenced because it was inconvenient to address that they were other than what society said they should be.

But instead he was arrogant. He knew he was smart. He knew he was the smartest person in the room at most times, and he was most likely right. And intelligence is nothing if you can’t communicate effectively. I tried to get him to communicate appropriately. But he had other influences. Others who were condescending and arrogant as well. They thought they were better quality people than everyone else. And sometimes my son thought that too.

But I wasn’t prepared for those risks. I never lived that life. I was raised to be a cog. I didn’t see the trappings. And dear Lord there are trappings.

When you are poor, life has enough drama. Media likes to portray poor folks as all fights and cheating and frankly teen crap. But that isn’t really true. That shit is in the suburbs. Oh, there are some who lean into soap opera stuff but for the most part, people are just trying to survive. You want to see true spirit of community. Go to a poor church. Dude, they barely are scraping by but they will give in a heartbeat. There is no pause or question of whether the person deserves it. They just do it. Not because they are more noble or anything, but because they get it. They know what it’s like to have nothing. To be scared.

But in the suburbs, I see something completely different. No one has each other backs in a real way. If a neighbor’s house burned down they will put together a fundraiser at the local Chipotle were a portion goes to rebuild which, don’t get me wrong, is nice. But where will they sleep tonight? What clothes will they wear? What are they going to eat? How do they pay for any of it since the purse was in another room and couldn’t grab it. ID, credit cards, all of it, gone. But it doesn’t occur to anyone.

In some way that’s a good thing, means they never experienced it. But at the same time, it means that they focus on the petty stuff instead. Gossip will always happen. But there is a big difference between talking about how you are concerned your neighbor is going to be evicted and then what will happen to your kid’s friend who lives there and talking about who you think is sleeping with your spin instructor.

The expectations are so different too. If you are expected to be high quality, the expectations of what you will achieve are high quality. And the sense of entitlement is also there too. And that comes with some severe trappings too.

I wasn’t prepared for any of that for him.

And so I watched as a child filled with promised, given opportunities I would have chopped limbs off for, slide through life until he became a cliché. And what was sad was that it was a weird cliché. One normally used to explain why poor people are poor. No drive, excuses for everything and blaming others for everything else. Not taking responsibility for anything.

I got angry.

The hell I went through. I have been working for decades, since I was in elementary school. I wanted a better life for myself. I wanted a better life for him. And here he is, just pissing everything away because he can’t pull his head out of his own ass and grow up? I get it. I get that you have issues. But so did I. I still fucking do. But I didn’t get the luxury of sitting in them. If I did, we would have both starved. No, I had to fucking get up and push through. Even if I wanted to be in bed under the covers. Even when life was overwhelming, and I wanted to scream. Sometimes when I would drive home from work I would. Have the volume up in the car with the windows up and just scream. But I had to. I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t going to use my pain as an excuse to have him experience what I experienced. No, he had to have better. I had to be better quality.

But that wasn’t enough. I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t prepare him for the issues that come from the privilege of having stability. I never knew there was a downside to that. How would I have known? For those who have it they can’t even see what it’s like to not so they don’t know what the differences would be. No one could tell me what to prepare for. So I never saw the risk.

All I saw was the wasted opportunities.

I love my son. I loved my son as I took his body down. I loved my son as I held him and tried to speak intelligently to the 911 operator begging her to have them hurry. Even though he was already cold. I love my son as the fireman held me and told me to let his body go. I loved my son as they put the sheet over his body to wheel into the ambulance. I loved my son as my neighbor offered to get me a cup a fucking coffee as I talked to the police. I love my son as I call his father to tell him. I loved my son as I stare at his phone trying to figure out if I should unlock it and see what is there. I love my son as I see the pity glances from the neighbors as the whispers spread through. I loved my son as I listen to each family member cry as I tell them. I love my son as I fill out the paperwork at the hospital for his body’s release to the funeral home.

It wasn’t society’s fault. It wasn’t the meds fault. It wasn’t the therapist’s fault. It wasn’t his fault. I know whose fault it was.

It was mine.

Because I wasn’t enough.

Why I don't talk about my "Issues"

Things about me most people know:
I’m divorced
I have a kid who just turned 21 who lives at home
I get migraines
I have allergies
I work in healthcare IT
I come from a large family
I love to eat
I am a geek

Things most people don’t know about me:
I have had seven surgeries
When I was 4 they thought I had a form of cancer. I overheard the discussion the doctors had with my mom about this. This greatly shaped my view of death.
The first surgery I had they cut me open completely from chest to pubic bone. They weren’t sure where the what turned out to be a cyst was. Because of this I had to learn how to use my stomach muscles again and learn to walk again. It also means my abs will always be kinda weak. No 11s for me.
I spent almost the total of a year in hospitals between the age of 2 and 10.
My kidneys work at 75% and 50% of normal
When they had to do another surgery at 15 they went through and cleaned out a bunch of scar tissue. It had formed (very painfully) while I grew up because I grew. Scar tissue looks like cling wrap on an ultrasound.
I have asthma
I have POTS - postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome
My thyroid likes to randomly break on me
I have been dealing with depression, anxiety and survivors guilt pretty much my whole life
I have impeccable recall (was a lot stronger when I was younger but you know, getting old) - example, I still remember my Aunt’s credit card number she used to order a pair of jeans from the yellowed phone at my grandparents when I was 4. I have been trying very hard to turn it off my whole life, it is actually not fun.
Though I remember events and actions, I am actually not good with dates and names. This is why I use lists.
Though I have never been formally diagnosed with ADD, I do present a lot of the symptoms. This can make me come across as rude when I get sucked into something with intense focus (my family teases me about how I watch movies) or scattered because I can jump from thing to thing very quickly (hence the need for lists).
I have lost a lot of people. Part of the reason for survivors guilt - I got to leave the hospital, not everyone else did. But I have lost a lot of others along the way. I had buried roughly 30 people I cared about by the time I graduated high school.
Okay - I know - a lot there - not even all of it (only covered through 18 - life is funny that way) but you probably need a breath and are wondering - WHY IS SHE TELLING ME ALL OF THIS?

Honestly, because I don’t talk about it. I might make reference in certain circumstances where it is relevant. Normally just to help give credence to what I am saying if someone is going through something similar. But I don’t normally talk about it.

Why? Because it’s pointless to. When I was younger I was obsesses with the things that have happened to me. In an effort to make sense of it I felt I need to take a deep dive into all of it. It was all part of my identity, right? It made me who I am. But as I got older, I realized that was incredibly dangerous.

If I focus on all of that, it’s overwhelming. It feels like a giant weight holding me down. I can’t do something because of those issues. They told me no before I even asked the question or someone like a doctor could. I help helpless and hopeless. Which of course fed right into the depression.

But here’s the thing. That’s all bullshit. Yes, that list can be seen as a lot but so what. People have it way worse than me who do a lot more, so it isn’t an excuse unless I make it one.

I practice aggressive ownership. I am responsible for everything that happens in my life. So if I can’t do something, that’s on me. Not something from the list, not some other person, not the government, school, job, etc. It’s on me.

I do this because first and foremost because it’s true. I am responsible for my own life. All of it. It is a hard thing to accept but once I did, things got a lot easier. I have one life to live, why the hell do I want to give control of it to anything or anyone else? That’s why I make jokes about my body trying to kill me or when ugly thoughts from depression pop in my head separate it out from me. By taking control I acknowledge that things can impact me, even things that my own body and mind do, but it is still not necessarily ME. And I can do things to help address it. It becomes a challenge to overcome, not something to victimize me.

Now I know what you are thinking - what if you get hit by a car, you are not responsible for that. Well as long as I didn’t do something careless like turn left on a red light then yes, technically I’m not. But to show you what I really mean lets take a much more insidious example from right after I became an Adult.

I was raped in college. I worked at a Dairy Mart, it was winter and I just got off my shift, a classmate from my Physics class offered to drop me off at my dorm on his way to a party. He wanted to swing by his off campus apartment to pick up some CDs. He invited me in while he grabbed them. I still have a small scar on the back of my head from where it hit the wooden arm of an old 80s couch.

Was I responsible in any way for the rape? Fuck no. That piece of shit was. He decided to do it. He is the one that had to prove he had control over my body instead of me (let’s be honest, rape isn’t about sex, it’s about control, it just uses sex in the way a murderer uses a knife). It is ENTIRELY HIS FAULT. And as a person who has some AMAZING guy friends who I have never once had to be concerned about so I know that asshole is the exception, no, there is no excuse for his behavior and I did nothing wrong. I could have not accepted the ride or gone upstairs to his place sure, but neither of those change the fact that asshole is an asshole and fully responsible for his own actions.

Now I might not be responsible for the rape, just like I am not responsible for a cyst growing, my thyroid breaking or being part of a mass layoff or my boyfriend cheating (examples folks, I’m good at the moment). But I am responsible for how I handle it.

At first I curled up and dove deep into it. Like couldn’t walk across campus because of the fear and anxiety I had. I tried to work on processing how I felt and kept going deeper and deeper into it to try and address it. That failed, miserably.

Then after a couple of years, I tried to ignore it. Treat it like it didn’t happen. Not super helpful. Would pop up and mess with me, normally in relationships. Not good.

Then I finally realized a few things. I need to take responsibility for it. Not the act itself, but how I was handling it. Dwelling on it didn’t let me move on from it and ignoring it just ignored something that did shape who I was now. But if I took responsibility I got to own it. That ass was never going to apologize for what he did, and even if he did, would it change anything? No. So I had to own it. Not because I wanted to, but because I needed to for my own sake. And by owning it, it became a challenge to overcome. I wasn’t a victim anymore but just another thing I had to take care of.

And like a

Holy crap that changed everything. Do you know how much easier life is when things are in essence items to be addressed instead of happening to you?

I have had two of the seven surgeries as an adult. Dealt with divorce, post-partum depression, job layoffs, going back to school, breakups, hospitalizations, deaths. But I have an easier time rolling with it because I’m not focusing on why this is happening to me. Life is random. Shit will happen. I can’t prevent it. I can do things to prepare for some of it but lets be honest, a meteor could come tomorrow and no idea how to prepare for that.

But what I can do is take a step back and see it for what it is. A challenge. Even if it was sentient and for some reason and hated my guts and was like “I will destroy you!!!” it’s on me on whether I let it’s view of the situation (it wants me to be it’s victim of destruction) be my view too. Now obviously I might want to have a conversation with this meteor and see why it hates me so much. Did I do something that ticked it off? Should I apologize? Do I even care that this meteor I never met before hates me? But those are my decisions and actions to make. It doesn’t get to tell me how to feel, act or think. That’s mine. I own it.

I know for some this probably seems a bit crazy, but I have been through somethings and this works for me. I am fairly successful in my career, have had pretty decent relationships and have pretty strong ties to my family and friends. So at least it works for me.

But this is why I don’t talk about that stuff. Not because it isn’t important, not because it hasn’t impacted me, it’s just not important that you all know about it. I am who I am because of all of it. So you either like me or you don’t. The reasons for who I am shouldn’t need to come into play.

Overcoming the Negative

This summer was a lot. Not because of anything specific, but more because I got in my own head and prevented myself from moving forward. In a downward spiral of negativity, I focused on what I didn’t like and what I didn’t have instead of all the positives and all the possibilities. It is something I quite often do, especially when I am not careful whom I am around. They can impact me in two different ways but both mess with my motivation, drive and overall well-being.

One - I get wrapped in stupid shit. This is normally things like gossip, melodrama and poor me syndrome. Now I fully acknowledge that the quickest way to find someone who LOVES drama is someone who complains about other peoples drama. And drama can be amazingly addictive. I think it is because it reminds of us of the intense feelings we had when we were teens so it artificially inflates things to a level of importance it just simply isn’t.

Your SO is refusing to go somewhere unless you meet their demands even though you made a commitment to go? Yeah…well…the fact you are dating them says A LOT about your desire for drama because that is an incredibly immature power play there and either way you handle that, you loose. Like sincerely. But then again, the fact that you tolerate being treated that way says you’re addicted to the drama. Because, honestly, who acts that way who has aged out of high school?

And oddly enough a version of that scenario I watched play out and it slapped me silly. Especially given the odd texts I got while it was all playing out. I was just a friend and yet somehow I am now having to deal with the spill over of that level of crazy? Yeah, no. I don’t think I have been that level of pissed in years.

But that’s the thing about drama. It was clear they couldn’t see it. It was clear others there couldn’t see it. I on the other hand was getting text messages helping another friend through her father’s illness that scared her that he might die. Now that is something to be upset over. That is something to throw a temper tantrum over and pout and demand that others who claim to love you step up. That is actually real. That is a moment where if she asked me to handle the spill over from that, I wouldn’t even hesitate because that isn’t an ask, it’s a call for help that is real.

The other way is the YOU ARE WRONG SHUT THE F UP way. I talk with a lot of people all the time. Their opinions vary and most of the time I don’t really care. Unless you opinion says X shouldn’t exist and we should get rid of them, I really don’t care enough to argue. But there are some people in my life were I have to deal with their opinions and more importantly their behavior about those opinions that make me want to scream.
I want to scream you SPOILED SELF INDULGENT HYPOCRITES. These are the people who will whine about being busy but yet don’t actually get all that much done and their list of things to do seem inflated. Nope, I have worked 60 hour weeks while raising a kid, having a dying parent and going to school. I do know what busy is. And even then I got my shit done. Your to-do list sounds like maybe if you prioritized the work over gossiping, social media and complaining about how busy you are, then maybe you wouldn’t be so busy. Or the “those people” are the problem. Now this goes both ways the “they just need to do X and it would solve their problems” such as if they just buckled down they would be able to afford a house and then stop complaining. Or the throw the baby out with the bathwater group in the “The system is all evil so it must be torn down and that will fix the problem”. I oddly enough find these two do seem to be generational. It is so funny to me how much Boomers and Millennials are EXACTLY alike and yet hate each other so much.
Now I don’t like getting into these discussions but as a Gen Xer myself, I am sandwiched between the two and it drives me insane.
Don’t complain about lack of opportunities when I literally watch you squander all the amazing opportunities you have with really pathetic excuses. And don’t claim that because you did it they should be able to do it, I have to come set up your damn TV, the world is A LOT DIFFERENT. Now I am not saying it is anyone specific though I am assuming you are assuming it is my family. Yes, some of it is, but I am on social media and holy crap the amount absolutely dumb shit people post that fit this categories.
And that impacts my mindset. Because I can turn off my social media but I can’t turn off the real people interactions I have to have. And this is insane. If you are using all, none, always or never and it isn’t science or math based discussion, I am immediately thinking you are an idiot. If you are quoting a meme as if it is fact, I am immediately thinking you are an idiot. If you start a phrase with don’t take this the wrong way or no offense but I am immediately thinking you are a condensing idiot.

And that puts me in a mood. A horribly rotten negative mood where I think, I’m glad the planet is going to kill us all off because obviously it should all end. Which is not the right mood to be in. Besides the obvious reason of no, I don’t really want humanity to die out, the other is it makes me numb and comfortable with mediocrity.
That kills my creativity, my drive, my experimental nature and my call to adventure. Which then makes me more miserable.
So - how do I address this. Well first, I need to see if I can be in people’s lives who like drama without being a part of it. I have a feeling that will be a no. Even if they sincerely see me as a friend, my value goes down if I don’t validate the drama, so I will hear from them less and less. And if I mirror their level of engagement with me, then it will resolve itself. Either the friendship is real or it isn’t.
As for the complaining generalists, obviously less social media. Snooze A LOT of people. Less engagement with those who’s complaining I find like nails on a chalkboard. Maybe focus on specific discussion points as to avoid areas that will lead to their rants. The thing so many people fail to understand is that you have the right to your opinion and I have the right to judge you mercilessly for it and there is no guarantee I will be kind. This is why up until social media’s big bang, people rarely shared their opinions outside their closest loved ones who could easily call bullshit on you for being an idiot or think you are brilliant because you share the same opinion. Or if you are really lucky, love you in spite of your idiot opinion because they have gotten to know you and understand where the opinion comes from.
But now, no. I don’t care. Put your opinion away. No one cares.

And on that note, I will stop spewing my opinion all over a blog I don’t even let people post comments on, lol.

Inspiration - Corridor Crew

I have gone down the rabbit hole of watching all the episodes of Corridor Crew. It is a lovely little YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSpFnDQr88xCZ80N-X7t0nQ That is the behind the scenes look at the making of various short form VFX videos that they produce for the Corridor Digital channel https://www.youtube.com/user/CorridorDigital

Now what is so lovely about it is I have been itching to start up a new hobby and they have inspired me to start learning what they do. Now I have no intention of doing this for a living and no expectation of being able to do even a 1/10 of what they are capable of doing. But it is a good excuse to learn a new skill, one I can put to use in fun ways.

The Kid is helping me plan what computer I need and once I get that all together I’ll start small, probably Adobe before even looking at the programs they mention or the tutorials they promote. They are also encouraging me to learn how to use my really good camera that I have that I really just use the zoom on and that’s about it.

I love to learn and they are clearly of the same cloth. I bet they never thought they would inspire a mom with a kid who is old enough to intern with them to start to dabble, but there you go. Really drives home the idea of you never know who you are inspiring.

Random Thoughts about Friendship

I have always been very lucky to have awesome friends. I have friends from 3rd grade who I am still friends with because they are fun, sweet and well worth the effort. And I have made a lot of friends throughout my life. Some have been in my life for a shorter period of time than others but all had an impact on me.

Friendship can be tricky. Especially as you grow. You go through different stages in your life and sometimes they don’t line up. That can be really hard. You love a person but when you don’t see the world through the same lens because your priorities are different, it takes even more work to stay together. Sometimes that is worth it.

Other times its not.

As I have gotten older I have gotten a lot less tolerate of self-induced drama. Don’t get me wrong, some drama will come into a person’s life no matter what they do. Illnesses, child issues, divorces, work problems can all cause massive drama for someone who never wanted it in the first place. Those friends need all the love and support I can give them. Sometimes I am not the best at always being there but I do try.

But other times, some friends seek out drama. They get into relationships that are bad for them. Or worse, have on again off again relationships with a person that is clearly as deep into the drama as they are. I had a friend who did this for years. Years. They never talked about the hard stuff like do you want kids, what are your thoughts on marriage, etc. But yet they kept going back to each other even though it was a mess.

Now I try not to judge on relationships because I am far from good at them, but damn it was rough. I would get calls asking my opinion where it was really really clear the goal was that I say “oh that person is bad for you”. But then right back to them.

sigh

That gets tiring real quick. I want to support a person to be better. And I am a fixer by nature. So eventually I stopped responding. I let the friendship die. It needed to. My life likes to create drama by doing things like getting calls at 11pm about a family member being rushed to the ER or someone dying suddenly. It happens way more than I would like it to (which is never but I get a call about once a month around one of these topics on average and for about a year and half if was both a month). I don’t want to deal with others self-imposed drama.

Now I can develop crushes and get moody and sometimes act like a teenage girl sometimes. But I would like to think it is not that common. And I am fine when my friends do the same. But that is once in a while and that is normal. But when all you talk about how this sucks or that sucks or how this person is horrible, it is straight up draining.

I want to talk about goals and ambitions. I want to talk about crazy dreams and do deep dives on movie plots. Or how great a song is or how you were able to lift a new weight. Those things are awesome and I am always there for that. But if it is all negative and yet never really your fault. Well I will go with a modified version of the old saying - if everyone in your life is all about that drama, the common factor is you.

And what’s worse is that when I am with negative people I can become negative myself. So it puts me in the drama camp and I really don’t like that. I would rather see a play or movie for drama than live it.

So I focus on people in my life who want the same things. To be better. To be stronger. To be kind. They ground me and push me to be a better person.

But sometimes that means I need to cut people from my life no matter how long I have known them or in all honesty, how much I love them. Because boundaries aren’t about making others angry, they are about showing yourself respect.

My self sabotaging ways aka soooo my diet is going well

I don’t always handle things well. Especially when it is about my body. I might have a day when I think I am looking really cute or that I just killed it in the gym and then I see a picture of myself and blamo, I am wrecked.

The other day I worked out really hard at Title, I was proud of myself. Then they posted a video of the group working out and I saw myself. I had just left and the notification popped up that Title had posted on Instagram. I watched it and saw myself. I cried. Not like my eyes watered, no legit balled. I had felt great and then saw my body, so huge and ugly and I cried. I had to pause before going into Meijers to get fruit because I knew my eyes were all red. But also, because I was in my workout clothes and now I knew how I looked in them, the idea of others seeing me made me cry even harder. I did force myself to go in and get the fruit I wanted but it was hard.

The problem was after that I wanted to eat everything. I wanted a moment to feel something other than the pain I felt after seeing that video. RIght now I don’t have a lot in my life that is purely for me, is a stress relief and brings me joy. But food always has. So dieting is one of the hardest things to do because in many ways it is my go to to feel better.

It probably seems silly to whine about it, considering I have so much in my life that is good. But my body, how it looks, how it behaves, has always been a hard topic for me. And the words that go through my head are not the most positive in the scheme of things. People have always made comments about my body. The scars didn’t help. The huge breasts coming in at 14 really didn’t help. I remember being a Sophomore in high school and I wore this really cute swing dress that was totally 60s Mod with leggings and thought I was cute as could be. A teacher came up to me and told me that I should have come to him, he would have helped and if I needed anything to let him know. At first I was confused but then his daughter came up to me and said “I just had to tell my dad you aren’t pregnant, you aren’t, right?” No, I was very much still a virgin at the time much less pregnant. But apparently the dress, coupled with my boobs sticking the dress out so much, made him think I was. Last time I wore that dress much less a swing dress.

Same thing with wiggle dresses. Bodycon dresses made me look like a “slut” according my to my one aunt and pleated skirts were apparently an invitation to young men to grab my ass because my bubble butt makes the skirt stick out. Most of high school I wore oversized t-shirts. To this day my default with dresses are loose fitting a-line.

So with these things that others have said swirling in my head, to them add on fat, I feel hideous. A grotesque monster only my mom could love. This might cause some issues on the dating front, lol.

I try to focus on the positives. I have lost weight. I am stronger than what I was. I try to be consistent in working out and I do kinda try to eat healthy. But then something goes sideways and I want to eat it all. I want ice cream, ribs, steak, cherries and so much more.

Today I have been working hard on this big project for work that has me very stressed and something went wrong. I left the house, ate a snickers, twizzlers and Burger King. Not exactly on the meal plan. And yes, I ate it in that order.

I want to be better but I get scared that I can’t be. That maybe I am meant to be this big. That I should just accept my grotesque oddly shaped body with the scars and the pornstar boobs that don’t fit in anything well and the fat. Maybe that is just who I am. Maybe I can get stronger and fitter but my body isn’t going to change.

Recently I was at a bar with a person and he was showing a video of a young lady boxing to myself and another man. As I watched to woman I was so impressed with her speed and her focus. Then one of them said “she’s fat”. I pretty much finished the margarita I had in one gulp to keep myself from tearing up.

I had posted a video of a guy on a treadmill boxing.

My trainer had then commented lets try it. At first I thought it would be cool, it will be fun. But then I got worried he would want to film it. And when people see it, are they going to comment on what I was doing or that I was fat, just like that girl. Needless to say I have no plans in trying it.

I have never been a girl that was confident in her looks. I have been told I was pretty and sexy and even beautiful, but I have never really felt that way. I don’t know if I ever will be.

But I do want to become less dependent on food to make me feel better. Regardless of whether I loose weight or not, I do want to do that. Because even though I feel better for a moment I feel deep shame after and I know that isn’t healthy.

I also want to stop comparing myself to other women so much. I don’t do it as in I’m better, I see how I don’t stack up to them. That isn’t healthy either.

This has already been such a good year of really digging deep into what I need to work on, I just need to figure out how to address the issues I have. But this one needs to get moved off the back burner.

I deserve to like myself.

I speak multiple languages but most fluent in Meme

Sometimes I have a hard time expressing myself. I can be a bit awkward and reserved. Even though I am definitely goofy, I freeze up in certain situations or with certain people. But I am much better through text. And by through text I mean memes let me say things I am just able to say in person.

I can have whole conversations with memes and often use them with my family. I have a literal chat group that we just send memes back and forth to each other. There is something fun about them that can get a point across in a way that is easier to handle than saying it straight out. It can inject humor in even really dark times and can affectionately make fun of someone for something that saying it straight might hurt feelings.
My meme boys might like to tease me about my impractical crush and my adoration of Keanu Reeves.

It is also just a really fun way to stay in touch with people I don’t get to see often. There is something fun about having a meme pop up in my text. It is a lovely way to give a virtual hug and say, hey I was thinking about you. Such a small effort and yet such a great return. In a world where people say they will text or call and don’t, there is something so fundamentally sweet about having those moments in the day that has you smile from a friend.

Really, it is one of those recent trends I truly do adore.

Dating in your 40s - What I want in a guy

“So what are you looking for on this site?” Is probably the most common statement I get besides Hi on Hinge. Totally get it, it is a completely reasonable question. Problem is the answer is a bit tricky. My normal response is “To meet new people, and hopefully, meet someone special I can have a relationship with”.

Does it get more beauty contestant answer than that?

But it is a hard thing to say. I would like a relationship, it is my default. I have never been a “let’s keep it casual” kind of gal and one night stands scare the hell out of me. I mean, what if the guy is a serial killer? Plus one night stands seem great and all when you don’t want to focus on building something with another person. It addresses specific needs, no real commitment issues, heck, can be back home and sleep in your own bed. But for me, it has some serious downsides.

Let’s set aside the whole if you liked it you don’t get to hit it again issue and of course the whole have to use protection issue, my attraction to guys is not normally a physical one. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate a good looking guy. But there are certain things that aren’t physical that can REALLY get me going. Like passion. Honestly, listening to a guy talk passionately about what they love, whether it is something like old construction equipment, comics, computers or boxing is amazing. I have never understood the old “Oh listening to him talk about X is just so boring”. Sure if it is the same story you have heard or the 18th time, I get that. But when a guy is talking about something he is passionate about and you see that spark in their eyes twinkling with excitement, oh Lord, dunk me in cold water.

And that is a big problem for me. Because when I see that passion, I want to help them grow it. I want to see where it takes them. I want to see as they pursue it. Even my Hollywood crushes fall into this problem. Besides Keanu who is objectively attractive regardless, most of what gets me is comedians. You can tell they have truly honed their craft and when they speak about something off the cuff they are passionate about, I’m done. Jon Stewart retiring from the Daily Show was the best thing to happen to me because I could more easily go to sleep at night.

So that leaves the answer. What am I looking for. Well, I always had hard age limits but with the volume of younger guys messaging me I started to talk to some a bit. I still don’t think it will go anywhere because frankly it is hard when you have two people in different spots in their lives. I am a mom through and through. For a person who has never had a kid, that can be a hard thing to get. Not because there is something wrong or anything but because put bluntly, when you have someone’s life in your hands literally your priorities shift. It just does. And there are very few other potential scenarios were that comes into play as hardcore as being a parent.

Which is why realistically I see myself dating a single dad. I love kids so if it got serious and I met his, I don’t think it would be an issue to love them as if they were my own.

My mom always says I need to find a guy who we are equally yoked. To help explain you yoke your animals that are pulling a cart or a carriage. so if you have two horses pulling a carriage they need to be not only be pacing at the same rate, they need to have the weight equally distributed and the harnesses at the same length. I know, its odd, but my mom is really into British tv and this is definitely from period pieces. But I get the concept. I need to be in a relationship where we are both in it the same amount. Where the expectations for the relationship is the same. And we need to be similarly paced. That one is a biggie. I have had a tendency to date men who weren’t as motivated as I am. Not to make money, though having a job is important in some sense, I mean motivated to do things. To be better. To grow. To hustle. To try new things. This has been a common complaint across my entire family, lol. As I was told by one sibling “For the love of God stop choosing men that make you slow down instead of keeping pace”. I like having crazy goals and trying to become a better version of me. So I need a guy who is wants to do the same so we can get better together.

There are others things as well, like I need to have some things in common with them. Whether we both love movies, or books, or walking in the sand, or going to concerts, or playing video games, or taking pictures at the zoo, or wandering the art museum (okay, that one I kinda like to do alone), or own way to many books, or run 5ks (slowly for me, lol) or go to the gym together, or trying new restaurants or something else in my laundry list of things I enjoy, which is a lot, there has to be something. I am totally down for trying other things he might enjoy, but it also needs to be mutual, at least trying something once. And having at least one thing we have to do together immediately makes it easier to spend time together besides the normal sit at a bar or sit at home watching tv.

But these aren’t really things you can say on an app in short text messages back and forth. It is either there or it isn’t. So it makes it difficult to honestly answer that question.

What I want is a connection. A real one. A deep one. A look into each others eyes and see who they actually are not who they pretend to be for the world. A I can curl up into his arms and cry when I am at my wits end connection. A I love you for who you are and who you want to become level connection.

I don’t know if that is out there. Or if it is if they will even want a relationship or to be in one with me. But I do like going for crazy goals so I guess I need to try.

Stress, Fear and Self-Doubt

I live with a constant level of fear. I had made the joke once to a friend that that was my secret, I’m always scared. He didn’t get the reference but he also doesn’t watch movies so his loss.

But for me I constantly am worried. I read a lot into other peoples words, actions or what they don’t do. I have been to a lot of various therapists who have said it has to do with my poor health and surgeries as a child, my survivors guilt from my poor health (you meet kids in the hospital who don’t always get to leave), that it has to do with my parents, the various addictions in my family, and various other traumas I have suffered along the way throughout my life.

That is possible. And that probably caused some of it. My ability to assume someone is angry at me is pretty funny when you look at it logically. And my natural assumption that no one is actually interested in me is my default. My need to feed people definitely stems from a need to feel useful to someone, I get that. But I think there is something else in the mix.

I know I am smart, there are tests for that sort of thing. But often, I feel like I am not smart enough, that I am a fraud, that everyone will find out and I will shunned. I feel I will fail people depending on me and it will all fall apart. I know, super martyr statement and yet the fear will grip me and can freeze me where I am.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and think, I’m kinda cute. Then I see a picture of me and all that disappears. I see the fat, I see the double chin, I see the scars. And the fear that no one can truly love me because I am so ugly grips me.

It is odd to have these fears constantly. They are always there, low grade, in the back of my head. It makes me question so much. But when I am stressed, oh dear lord do they come out.

A friend told me I am overly emotional. I cried after we got off the phone. No shit I am, if I could numb myself I would . I feel everything so intensely it is really annoying. And I know he didn’t mean to make me cry, far from it. He is kind-hearted but under-emotional so I know he meant it more as a I need to detach from things. He has said that before so I know that’s what he meant. But I think the fact I feel everything so intensely is just fuel to the fire of the fear.

When I love I am all in. It’s a book and I am telling everyone about it and will give it to a person I think will also enjoy it. If it’s a food I will eat it constantly until I finally get sick of it. And when it is people I will do whatever I can to make their lives better and help them. This really sets me up for pain and that feeds the fear.

I am trying hard to work on overcoming the fear. To limit the self-doubt and instead of fighting the intense emotions, maybe accepting them and letting them pass through. Sometimes I wonder if fighting the emotions just makes them worse.

But I don’t live in a vacuum and as stress creeps in the fear can take over. It makes me want to hide, to procrastinate, to fail to do the things that I not only know I need to do, but that I normally enjoy doing. It is odd that it can have such an impact. And yet it does.

I am not sure if I will ever truly be fearless. But I know that I need to address these self doubt issues if I want to. And that I need to in order to regulate my bad reactions to stress.

I have accomplished a lot in my 41 years on this planet, even with these issues. But can you imagine what I can do if I overcame them?

Role Models: Abigail Adams - kick ass business woman, kick ass wife

I have always searched out role models throughout my life but to be honest, for most of it strong women were not in the media, at least not outside of fiction. And even then, there were some oddities. Princess Leia was charming, feisty and totally down to scrap but Return of the Jedi also had her risk the Rebellion to say her boyfriend and blow up all the other Jabba sex slaves. Not exactly cool.

GI Joe (the cartoon) had Scarlett and Lady Jay and yes, it influenced my obsession with Archery but even still they had to be rescued a lot and were not always in the combat to the level the boys were. Now in the comics, that is a different story. Oh Scarlett, you hard core bad ass woman you.

There was Wonder Woman but once again, tv paled in comparison to the comic and even the comic had some serious bouncing around as people took issue with how strong she was.

And Jem. Can we take a moment to appreciate Jem? The chick took in orphans, started a rock band, ran a mutli-million dollar company she inherited from her father after he died suddenly and juggled two boyfriends all while having a AI bestie who would always had her back. The 80s cartoons were insane.

But this left a hole because when I try and think about strong women when I was little, besides the women in my actual life, I just didn’t see many. Even when they were career women with no nonsense attitudes they still ended up chasing after a guy and often in action flicks were there to scream and get rescued (looking at you Lois Lane and Vicki Vale).

But history has some hidden gems. And I had stumbled across a biography of Abigail Adams while doing a report on John Adams, her husband, and the second president of the United States. And holy crap, this woman was awesome.

Born way back in November of 1744 in Massachusetts to a minister, the chick devoured books. She loved Shakespeare and Milton and though did not get a formal education (as was the time) found her education through reading. She met John in 1762 at 17 and they married 3 years later. They had six kids, one a stillbirth and one died as a toddler.

John was a lawyer and was away from home A LOT. So she raised the kids pretty much on her own. And ran the farm and business. She was good at math and had a great business sense keeping the house in good standing while John was away first due to work and then due to the Revolution. During that time they exchanged over 1100 letters. In them she would counsel him on what to do and never really held back. Many refer to her as John’s secret adviser. After the war she joined him in France and helped in building the diplomatic ties that the new country desperately needed. They didn’t always see eye to eye, such as how John handled the XYZ affair with France during his presidency (France in the middle of their own revolution tried to extort money from the US that led to all sorts of issues) were he wanted a peaceful resolution and she felt that war should have been declared, she ALWAYS had his back.

Even after John retired and they moved back to the farm, she ran it. John knew she was good at it and though he was often credited at the time with being able to be successful in business and politics, the letters very clearly show Abigail was handling the business and would often edit his speeches.

As a girl who never really liked the spotlight and continued that way even now, this really range true to me. She was a Beyonce for her hubby, upgrading him on every level, and she didn’t want the recognition. She did it because she loved him, yes, but more importantly, respected him. She saw in him a good man with good morals and virtues and wanted to help him become what he wanted to be. Even when she didn’t always agree with choices or even his goals. But that was the thing, she didn’t want him to be who SHE thought he could be, she wanted him to become who HE wanted to be. Huge influence on how I treat relationships, both friends and romantic.

Also, spelling wasn’t her strong suite. Boy can I relate to that.

One story though really hit me while reading another biography about her many years later. Shortly before Adams would take the Presidental Oath, something Abigail missed by the way, there was a former slave child in the village and she started to tutor him. When she felt he was ready, she enrolled him the local school. That did not sit well with the other children’s families and they stopped sending their children to school. So she went to EACH AND EVERY one of the families and to check on the children because of course they wouldn’t miss school unless they were sick. One of the neighbor’s complained about a black child being in the school and she angrily replied that the boy was “as much a Freeman as any of the [other] young Men and merely because his Face is Black, is he to be denied instruction? How is he to be qualified to procure a livelihood? … I have not thought it any disgrace to my self to take him into my parlor and teach him to both read and write.”

Needless to say the kids all went back to school.

She firmly believed in freedom for all people, regardless of race, religion and gender. Many of her letters have requests to John to try and work these into things like the Constitution. Honestly, bad ass is an understatement.

Which is why to this day I adore her. Centuries before I was born she was more influential and kick-ass than so many of the women I saw on tv and in the movies. And she did because she could and she did it because she fell in love with a man who she truly saw as noble and wanted him to be the best he could be. Now stop and think about that for a moment. They were one of the US’s first power couples. They had a truly amazing marriage based on both love and respect. They worked within the social norms but never let it define who they were to each other. And both stood up for what they believed in without compromising their relationship. Why is there not books about this woman all over the place?

If you have the opportunity to read up on her, please do. She should be someone everyone aspires to be like. Kind but fierce. We need a lot more of that in this world. We need more Abigails.

Dating in your 40s aka at least I’ll get some good stories out of it?

I am 41 and single. I have had a few long term relationships with good men, but nothing was the right fit. And I am a bit picky. I love my life and I want to make sure that the person who comes into it will be a good fit for it, not just to have someone.

So that has left me in the dating world. And that has made me realize a few things.

One, being single leaves you open for crushes that can really feel like you are a teen again and that is rough. I have been dealing with a crush on a really awesome guy for a bit now. It is not feasible because he is not interested in me in that way, or at least I don’t think he is. And I am not willing to ask to figure it out. He is currently really helping me become a better person. He is helping me work on my fears and overcome the blocks in my head to be a healthier person. There are moments I want to grab his face and kiss him. But I won’t because I am not willing to risk loosing him and the relationship we have now by scaring the crap out of him with trying to awkwardly hit on him. That wouldn’t be fair to him. And then I would loose someone who is making a real difference in my life.

But those feelings can be intense in the stupidest ways imaginable. I am not 13, what the hell. I am a logical professional woman so why does he pop in my head so much. It’s very weird. I thought I would have outgrown this by now.

Crushes, ugh

So there’s that aspect. Then there is a the option aspect. I have been on dates with men where it is clear from the get-go they have “options” and that they want to pretty much have all of it. I went on date with a guy who at first seemed great. Then towards the end of the date he started to treat it like a wrap up to an interview. Tells me about the other dates he has had and ones he has scheduled. He wants a second date but will contact me later in the week to schedule after his other dates.

Okay, so, there is a lot to unpack there but obviously, I was a no to a second date because WTF. Listen, I am not saying people should be committed after the first date. Far from it. Take your damn time and figure out if it is a good match. When people are all in right away they freak me out too. But this? This was so inappropriate. I get people have options, whether it our age or the times we live in, it is what is true. And it is very true for men. They can date way younger than themselves and people just assume they have money or the girl has daddy issues. Some men really embrace the McConaughey “Dazed and Confused” philosophy.

But you don’t treat people that way. That is just not okay. I am a choice not an option. So don’t treat people like they have to compete for the position of being with you. That is just not cool.

Then there is the issue of being old fashioned. I really like it when men take the lead. Like a lot. I want to be asked out on an actual date. Not let’s hang out but an actual date. I was in the bookstore and saw a book I almost got for my kid and randomly flipped open to this page:

https://www.amazon.com/How-Not-Dick-Love-Everything/dp/006287182X/ref=sr_1_5?keywords=how+not+to+be+a+dick&qid=1561902697&s=gateway&sr=8-5

The book is called How Not to be a Dick. And I literally took a pic of the page and sent it to a friend. I was laughing because this is dead on. I want a guy to show he is interested and to make it clear. No, flirt flirt flirt not hear from ya or talk about another girl while getting drinks. How am I to know what you are aiming for if you are being all vague.

Sometimes a gal just wants a guy to just go for it and kiss her. That can really clear up the confusion.

I dated a guy who never planned a date. I take that back we dated for over three years and he did plan about a dozen dates. All good, I liked them. But in three years that was a drop in the bucket in comparison to the amount we went out. His go to line when I would ask what he wants to eat or where he wants to go? “Whatever my baby wants”. Your baby wants you to make up your damn mind. Even on the vacation he was taking me on, I booked the tickets, the hotel, etc. Oh, he would give input saying why my choices wouldn’t work that well, but did he actually make a decision. No.

Now I am not saying that a guy needs to always make every decision or plan everything but show some initiative. It gets old fast.

There are some other things, like online dating and why in the world men half my age ask me out (like honestly, why?), but I think I will hold off and do other posts on those. Until then, have fun :)

Well Crap That Time Sucked - RunDisney

I signed up to do the RunDisney Virtual 5ks for June, July and August. At the time it made sense, help me improve my running and get back into it. Slight issue, I have plantar fasciitis. It has left me with some really annoying pain in my heel. It feels like I am stepping on a dull knife at most times.

I went to the doctor and I now have stretches, insoles (that deliver Monday), a wrap for my foot and I am not allowed to be barefoot. Also, I can take Advil and do use that freezing thingy on my foot.

So how good am I at following doctor’s orders? I ordered the insoles….yesterday…

Now I have kept my foot wrapped when convenient but I have to admit I am bad at following doctor’s orders. I am currently sitting in the living room typing this barefoot. So, really on top of it.

But today is the last day of June so I went to do my 5k…holy crap. My time, bad, let’s just start there. I walked the whole thing, the first hint of running and my foot was in pain. Now I have a pretty high pain tolerance (no really, I have had 7 surgeries, it has built up) but there is something about WILLINGLY inflicting pain on oneself for no real reason that I just can’t do. I’m not running in a race for time to qualify, I’m not in my boxing class (there have been times when my foot would be half numb from jump squats and don’t get me started on holding a squat where I’m supposed to have my weight on my heels, lol). So I didn’t feel that bad for walking it. But even when I tried to get my normal warm up pace of 4 mph that really hurt. So my time was bad.

Lesson learned Disney. I will do what I am supposed to, insoles, no barefeet, wrap the dang foot, stretch it and biofreeze it. Let’s see what July’s time ends up being. It’s good to have goals, they make you do what you know full well you are supposed to do.

July Goals - Working Out, Eating Clean and Writing, oh boy

I have a friend who said “Let’s do 13 in 31 in July” and I said sure. The intent is to eat clean and work out every day in July with the goal of loosing 13 lbs. I am a bit worried about it because that is a lofty goal. The 13 lbs is a lot. But that isn’t even the thing I am worried about. It’s the eating clean.

Realistically eating clean will DRASTICALLY change my eating. I drink pop. I bake and that is pretty much out the window since it is added sugar. I am not sure about Starbucks but I am worried about that one. And eating out is going to be rough.

Also, I did the math, in order to loose 13 lbs in 31 days I have to cut/burn 45,500 calories. That averages to 1,452 calories I have to address in some manner daily. Now according to a calorie calculator I need to eat about 2,291 calories a day to maintain my weight assuming my age, gender, weight and light exercise of at least 30 minutes a week for 4-5 times a week. Now I do normally do more than that when I’m good because I average about 4 class at Title Boxing a week (or 3 and one very hard butt kicking by Wilkins the trainer in personal training) but I wasn’t really comfortable with the other options. I certainly don’t feel like an athlete and I’m not even sure my metabolism is killin’ it at a higher rate.

So this leaves me with a couple of options on how to handle. First, I need to work out and burn at least 500 calories every day. Period, not discussion there. I can’t drop my caloric intake below 1,200 which would be 1,000 of the 1,452 calories I need to address. But even still that is going to be a problem because I like to do things like partake of a drink now and then. Yes, not exactly clean but if I want to succeed, I need to be realistic.

So it would probably be wise to try and schedule additional calorie burns besides the mandatory 500. This leaves a few options. More boxing classes, walking/running, barre/dance and weight training. All of these can get me to those extra calories burned and I actually enjoy them. I think I also want to try new things. There is an amazing chick at the Title that teaches at other locations. I like the idea of supporting people I know, plus it would push me to get out of my comfort zone. I have been becoming a bit isolated lately.

Now, I also need to work in stretching which leaves me yoga and pilates. Both don’t really do much on the calorie burn for me but if I am working out a lot I REALLY need to make sure I don’t stiffen up. Plus another amazing chick at Title owns a yoga studio were they do hot yoga, something I have always wanted to try. Luckily the first week of this is a holiday week so I can be in pain and figure this all out that week. But first and foremost, I need to make sure I hit the goal of cutting/burning 1,452 calories every day.

OH. Dear. God.

I also committed to posting every day in July. I have been so freaking stressed the last few weeks with work and life, and writing is such a good outlet for me. I actually starting thinking about offering up to some of friends to be able to start posting here just so they can have the same outlet, since being overwhelmed and feeling alone about it seems to be a common theme I am hearing.

I need to get out of my head, and writing helps with that. So I’m committing to doing that daily. There is a good chance there will be a lot of cursing since I will be hungry and tired, but I will do it.

And since it doesn’t count unless you put it in writing, that is what I am doing.

And at the end of the month, I will post the totals. Calories consumed, calories burned, blog posts and of course, lbs lost.

July is going to be a trip.

We need more Female Buddy Comedies like Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

I love movies and I love music. So shocker, I love musicals. At least when they are good. Rent has catchy tunes but the plot makes me want to beat my head against a wall. But you go back in the day to when musicals were king and you get some real gems. American in Paris makes me weep at the beauty of the dancing. Guys and Dolls I sing along to EVERY SINGLE TIME. But Gentlemen Prefer Blondes…

Now these two women, at the top of their careers and the true Hollywood A listers partnered up to make a buddy travel film. Yes, Marilyn’s Lorelei is engaged to a man who’s family doesn’t trust her and yes, Jane’s Dorothy meets a man on the boat over to Paris who secretly is there to dig up dirt on her bestie Lorelei and falls in love with her, but fundamentally it is about friendship.

These two have known each other for a long time. They are best friends through everything, even though they are really quite different. Lorelei is social climbing and wants to marry wealthy. Dorothy is down to earth and enjoys her freedom. But they have each others backs in a way that is not often shown in pop culture. There is no real judgement, even when poo hits the fan, just stating things as best they can so they can problem solve. So Lorelei can seek to marry a wealthy man and Dorothy can check out the Olympic team and they question.

Lorelei working out with the Olympic team while traveling

So much of how I see friendship, especially female friendships, comes from this movie. I first saw it young and it has stayed with me throughout my life. I might have also been influenced by their style as well, but it is far from the only movie that loves bold colors and red lipstick so I’ll say it definitely helped.

It also made me think about the role of money in relationships. Though Lorelei is very interested in marrying for money, Dorothy is more concerned with love. What is unique is that they are both right and wrong in the movie, and not once do either of them address the fact, that because of each other, they have both. Their careers are amazing because of each other, they are supported, loved and nurtured because of each other. And at the end, in their dual wedding (I know, spoilers) they both get what they want because of what they do to help each other.

Yes, the infamous Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend comes of this movie. But when you watch the movie, it is really quite subversive on the messaging both in the lyrics and in where it is in the plot. The whole Dorothy scene with the Olympic team is a bunch of sexual innuendos using sport phrases and it is quite delicious. The fact it made it past the censors is surprising.

This movie is one of the movies I turn to when I am blue. It reminds me of what I want and who I want to be. And it does it with witty dialogue and amazing clothing. In fact, I think I will watch it now. Jane and Marilyn can rock me to sleep with their amazing support for each other.

I will never have Abs, but that's not even my Main Hang up on my Stomach

When I was four years old I was taken to the ER by my mom because I had a really high fever. She had taken me to the doctor multiple times for the pain and fever but 1 - I was a happy bouncy child and 2 - she was a single mom. So the Doctor diagnosed me with needing my mother to stay home and be a real mother and that it was all just for attention. The ER docs diagnosed me with something different.

They told her to take me home and get my favorite stuffed animal and be back at the hospital at 6am. They weren’t sure what was wrong, but they needed to perform surgery. So the next morning I went in for the first of what would be six (I think it is six, I should know this but I would have to look it up) surgeries. They did an exploratory surgery that cut me open from my chest to my groin. They found a large durmoid cyst, stuck under my rib cage and removed it, along with a few other things. I had really weird dreams that included a dream were I was much older with a child and two that were apparently about purgatory. Yes, I acknowledge how weird that is, but anesthesia is some weird stuff. The doctors were caring, the scar was massive and keloided, I learned many things about myself and I had my first real awareness of death.

A lot for a four year old. But I am who I am because of this.

I have only once worn something that showed my stomach, a bathing suit in 6th grade that was what would be classified as a tankini and that is it.

See, as the years went on, and my body, specifically my stomach, became a tableau of the changes in modern medicine, I was always super self conscious of my body. First and foremost because of the scars. Change for gym class, I would get asked about the scars. It was never mean in the asking but it just drove home I wasn’t normal. I didn’t look right. I was flawed.

I also still have an intense fear of my body betraying me. Trying to kill me. Preventing me from doing what I want to do. I used to love to dance. But it is REALLY hard to be flexible when the scar tissue inside you is ripping as you grow and when you move certain ways the pain is so intense it can make you throw up.

I feel stunningly uncomfortable being naked. By myself, sure. But with others, especially someone I want to be intimate with, I can’t help but feel like they must think I’m a freak. That they are questioning why they are even with me. My body shows my failings so fully I can’t hind them in any way. It is there for full display.

Now intellectually I know this isn’t true. We all have failings, and now I have fat in the mix too and a ton of other people have that. But yet, emotionally, I just don’t feel beautiful. To be beautiful in this world physically you need to look healthy. I will never look that way. the scars will always be there, betraying that my body is not.

I have tried to overcome everything my body throws at me and I joke that my body tries to kill me every five years or so, but deep down, it scares me and scars me. Because I have known since I was four how true that statement really is. One day, my body will kill me. It does everyone. That is the definition of life. And every day I see the scars reminding me of this.

Now, I know, this sounds depressing and in someways it is. But it is also something else. It is a reminder of the battles I don’t talk about and how I have won them. But that isn’t enough to overcome the fear of showing the scars to others.

I will never have abs because my abs were sliced and scar tissue limits their ability to become tight and toned. I will never have those 11s models will have no matter how much I diet and how many crunches I do. Heck, doing a full sit up is difficult (though I used to be able to do a plank for minutes so that would be awesome to be able to do again). But what I really want is to be able to show my stomach and not be riddled with fear. Fear of rejection, fear of loathing, fear of pity. I want to be able to be like the women who wear a two piece even though they are thicc and yet still are rocking it out there proud and comfortable.

I don’t know if that will ever happen. But I need to focus on trying to make it happen. Maybe if I could, I could come to terms with the failings of my body. And that, that would be one of the greats battles to win.

What is POTS and Why It Sucks to Have It

So first thing first - I am putting a lot of links in this one and I really hope if you are interested in finding out more about this illness, you go check it out. I am not a doctor, just a person living with it. Also, since trying to explain some of this stuff involves using examples, I will be using what is my own information aka (PHI - personal health information) to help illustrate. So if you 1 - think that what I am saying can’t be true I literally have this info in MyChart so it exists or 2 - sounds a lot like you, well dude, hey, let’s talk because we apparently have a lot in common on this.

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POTS is Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome . (sweet video that goes over some of it https://vimeo.com/187404694) . There are all sorts of symptoms related to it but here is the basics. POTS is a disorder of the automatic nervous system. What it means is that all those things on autopilot in our bodies, like our heart beats and breathing are sometimes forgetting to do stuff or decide to try and go for extra credit and over do it.

Example - Can you do burpees? I didn’t say do you want to but can you? Congrats, I do them and I will pass out. This is because my blood pressure doesn’t stabilize correctly. Have you ever gotten up to fast from a dead sleep or maybe gotten up when you have been sick or haven’t eaten and felt that woozy feeling, maybe seen some stars? Yup. That is my normal. Not joking. This is because when my heart changes position in comparison to the rest of my body’s positioning, it should automatically (see, that whole auto nervous system thing) balance itself out in under a second. I’ve been clocked at 9 seconds. And that is just getting to the point where it is not jumping up and down, it could still be very low.

So the idea of getting to do a burpee and not pass out, that is the dream. I don’t even try at the gym, mainly because I already risk a lot when I am working out and I would NEVER put a business much less the amazing trainers I have the privilege to work out with in that position. Especially since I never want an ambulance called. This is literally my normal. I have accepted it, for the most part, but I don’t like the drama that would come from that sort of thing. And I hate pity. So no, not at the gym. But do I practice at home, trying to build up my tolerance, yes.

And before you say “wanting to be able to do a burpee is sad for so many reasons” understand that yes, I get that and frankly screw you because I am at least trying to do something I have literally been told is impossible for me to do. What did you do today that was impossible?

I have been dealing with POTS probably since the 4th grade. That is when I started to get migraines. I have gone through so many tests it isn’t funny. Diabetes, Epilepsy, etc it has been a mess. I wasn’t formally diagnosed until about 10 years ago and I will probably do another post around all of that. But what I do want to mention is that is misdiagnosed as other illnesses a lot. I personal favorite was the diagnosis of asthma. See the tachycardia kicks in and my lungs freak out. They thought it was the other way around. Oops.

Somewhere between 1-3 million people in the US have a dysautonomia disorder, which POTS is one of. 25% of those diagnosed with POTS are on disability because it so utterly takes them down for the count, which is about the same levels of disability for those with COPD. They are starting to find linkages with it being an autoimmune condition and potentially brain trauma. It can cause dizziness and passing out, but also hives, blood pooling and swelling, exercise intolerance (I know, that is really obvious on that one), stomach issues, migraines and of course the standard, fatigue, brain fog, insomnia etc.

But what is worse is that it can be isolating. When you really want to go out with friends and yet you can’t even manage to hold your lipstick still to put it on because your body can’t stabilize itself, obviously getting behind the wheel of a car is out.

It can be overwhelming. Shocker, people with POTS have higher levels of depression and anxiety. Don’t know why always living with the potential of randomly passing out places would make someone anxious, I know, but none the less it does. But most people who don’t have this think that is the anxiety or depression causing the POTS. Yes, both are brain issues, but two very different parts of the brain. And frankly if I could just be on an anti-anxiety pill and I could get up without having to do it like an old person like the occupational therapist taught me to avoid falling, I would. But it doesn’t help, at least not with the POTS.

It can make you feel like a failure. There are days when I can’t think well. I am incredibly smart. I’m over 40 so I am done being modest, I am smart. But there are days when I will stare at a computer screen because I forgot how to spell the word when. Or when I am at the gym and I see all these beautiful fit women, who are bouncing around in these cute tight coordinated outfits, and I see how the men look at them, and I am having to do my one finger trick (when I feel like I am going to pass out I put one finger on something and push on it and just focus on the feeling so I can in essence on pass out, pretty much I am standing most times out of pure spite) knowing that I will never be able to do a lot of things that come so easily for them, even if I lost 100 lbs and became 20 years younger, it still wouldn’t happen. The idea of stepping up, or trying to balance on an unstable surface or hell BOX JUMPS?!?! THE FEAR, THE ABSOLUTE TERRIFYING FEAR these bring to me. All because my body can’t figure out how to do the basics consistently. Just last week my heart rate jump up to 159 beats per minute while I’m asleep then drop to 42 beats like a minute later and just fluctuate like this for 20 minutes around 2:30 am. I was just sleeping. I wear a fitbit all the time including while sleeping for a reason, and it isn’t for step counting, though that is awesome.

I luck out, my POTS is pretty mild in the scheme of things. Hell, I do some serious cardio and I have not passed out at the gym once (knock on wood). And I try to not let it stop me from doing the things I want to do. There are so many that have it SO much worse than me and I know how fortunate I am.

So first, if you have an “invisible illness” hugs. I get it. It is hard. Like really hard. Second, if some of these symptoms you can relate to or you know someone who has these issues and you want to know more, here are some links. I have spent many nights crying because of the impact this has had on my life because I was just so frustrated. You don’t have to do this alone.

And if you want to talk, ping me. Sometimes just being able to go “Doesn’t it suck when you are at the grocery store and all of sudden you feel like you are running at full sprint and now you are worried you are about to pass out and the thing that goes through your head is, crap, I hope they don’t call an ambulance and the milk goes bad while waiting?” and you can have someone say “Yes, that does absolutely suck” can make a lot of this better.

Overview of POTS
http://www.dysautonomiainternational.org/page.php?ID=30
10 things about POTS you should probably know
https://www.dysautonomiainternational.org/page.php?ID=180
Support Groups
https://www.dysautonomiainternational.org/page.php?ID=8
Facebook POTS group
https://www.facebook.com/groups/959652780738627/