So there I was, staring at my laptop, in shock. Had I really let myself get back to this place? Morbidly obese. I let those words sink in for a few minutes. I cried. I'm almost crying now, just thinking about it. Then, I thought about my body fat percentage. 60% body fat. Really think about that. That's disgusting. Over half of my body was fat. I cried a some more. My thoughts wandered to a conversation that I'd had a couple months prior. I had been whining to my friend Jason about how sick I was of being fat. He said something that infuriated me. He said "So lose it. It's simple math. Burn more calories than you eat. You *have* to lose weight." How dare he? What did he know about it anyway? I didn't eat that badly. I knew people who ate way more than I did. Besides, when was the last time *he* gained 50 pounds in 6 months, after having a miscarriage? Screw him. Who asked him anyway? Jerk. Looking back, I realize that what really angered me about what he'd said, was that he was holding me accountable for my weight. He was right. It was my fault. Miscarriage, or not. My fat - *my* fault. Shit.
Part of me wanted to make a huge commitment to myself, to go on some insane diet and lose it all. Most of me was petrified by the thought. A bit of me was still in denial. So, I decided that I should keep track of my caloric intake (to prove stupid Jason wrong, of course). What I wish, is that I would have done it before I had stopped eating. I honestly can't even fathom the number of calories that I put into my body every day before all of this. Why? Because I ate unconsciously and chose to remain ignorant. Most of us have this attitude of "If I am not knowledgeable, I don't have to be responsible". Funny thing about that... It's garbage. If you get pulled over for speeding, and tell the cop that you didn't know what the speed limit was, does he care? Absolutely not. Ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking it. The cop only cares that a law has been broken, and the price must be paid. Well, guess what. Your ass doesn't care whether, or not you know how many calories you shove in your face. It only cares that the act has been committed, and the pounds must be gained.
So, the next day, I started counting calories. It was time consuming, frustrating, and shocking. Day one started with a McDonald's sausage, egg, and cheese croissant, hash brown, coffee with cream and sugar, orange juice, and a banana (you know... for health). 927 calories already? Damn. This is going to suck. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten myself back into the habit of eating. That's okay, I'll be good for lunch. Jamaican beef patty and green beans 434 calories. Not as bad, but now I'm up to 1361. Wasn't I supposed to have 1800 or so a day??? I'm eating less than I used to, though. Grrr. Snack time. A cheese stick. Ehm, times two. 140 calories. Huh. Dinner was bound to be bad. John was stuck here, on his way to East Bum, because of the weather. Naturally, we went to a bar. There is bar food in bars. I like bar food :) Potato skin, french fries, lentil soup (before I knew John was in town) 2 Blue Moons, and a chicken wing. 1362 calories. You've got to be kidding me. I'm so screwed.
My whole life, I'd sworn that I would never be the girl who counted every calorie. I hated those girls. So obnoxious with their whining, and bitching, and moaning. What a way to live. Obsessing about everything you eat. I'd rather be fat... or would I? On second thought, was I really any better? I was miserable, too. I may have eaten anything I wanted, but I couldn't look in a mirror without hating the reflection I saw. I couldn't go shopping without wanting to hang myself from a dressing room stall, with a pair of spanx. Don't even get me started on pictures. I'd have pushed an old lady into oncoming traffic to get away from someone with a camera. Forget about it. Could counting calories really be much worse? Not likely. I was so stunned by my first day at this, that I decided to do it again the next day, to see if it was a fluke. Sadly, not a fluke. It wasn't quite as bad, but it certainly wasn't a ton better.
Okay Lyndsey. Time to buckle down. You claim to be so strong, and determined. Walk the walk. The site says 1850 a day. I say 1600. I want to lose more than a pound a week. This will take forever at that rate. I have 86 pounds left to lose. So, I turned into "that girl". The one who read the nutritional information on *everything*. The one who said no the bag of Doritos that was calling her from the cupboard. The girl who had a salad for lunch every day. The girl who obsessed about everything that she out into her mouth.
That's where the story ends for the night. I'll leave you with a piece of advice, just in case you're so anxious to start calorie counting (yeah RIGHT), that you can't wait until the next blog. Don't change ANYTHING. Keep eating exactly the same way that you have been. Just record it for awhile. Write it down, type it in, whatever you're comfortable with. Just keep a log of every single thing that passes your lips. No cheating. No skipping. No rounding down on the calories. No taking a bite of someone else's something, without recording it. From the sugar in your coffee, to the mini Snickers that you take out of the candy bowl on some evil person's desk. The apple slice that you stole out of your kids "healthier" Happy Meal... that counts too. Record it right away, or you *will* forget. I promise you, you eat things throughout the day that you forget about before your head hits the pillow. Don't wait, just record it. Use Google to find the calorie content for things that you're unsure of. Often, it will take you to www.livestrong.com. Another great resource. Remember, you have no one to answer to, except yourself. If you genuinely want to lose the weight, you can't lie about what you put into your body anymore, and you can't keep yourself in the dark about it, either. Just look at it as a learning tool.
Until next time, dear reader, goodnight :)
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The miraculous, shrinking arse =) Part 1
Soooo,
I've had more than a few people ask me to blog about my recent weight loss. Initially, I didn't want to do it, because I didn't think I could say anything that hasn't already been said thousands of times. I still feel that anything I say here is going to be very familiar to anyone who has ever thought they could be a few pounds thinner, but you all asked for it!
In case anyone who doesn't know me ever reads this blog (yeah right), I'd just like to note that I am absolutely *not* an authority on weight loss, or fitness, or health, or nutrition, or anything else. I can't tell you with absolute certainty that my approach will work for you. I don't know if it is any healthier than your current habits. All I know is that it's working for me, and it's working *really* well.
This all started in a very unhealthy way. It's nothing I condone, and it's not something I'm proud of, but it is what it is. I am not proud, but I'm not ashamed either. I'm just a human who was utterly heartbroken. Being human and heartbroken combine to form a big black pot of poor behavior. I happened to get lucky and figure out how to turn it into something really good. Yeah, so, heartbreak lead to a complete loss of appetite. The night after I left Duncan's, I went out to an incredible Thai restaurant in Buckhead (Tuk Tuk. I *highly* recommend it to any Thai fans in Atlanta). I had an awesome meal, and then I stopped eating. I had little more than a few hundred calories a day for probably... two weeks, I'd guess (Maybe more. It's all a blur now). I went so long without a substantial meal, that when I finally started eating again, it hurt like hell. I repeat, I *do not* suggest this to anybody. I got sick. I hated myself. It was awful getting into the habit of eating again. The only "good" thing that came of it, was that I lost a bunch of weight. I looked in the mirror one day and saw my jawline clearly for the first time in ages. I was stunned and excited. I happened to be at Duncan's that evening, so I stepped on his scale and saw it there in black and... ehm... puke green-ish? I was 22 pounds lighter than I had been the first time I'd stepped on that scale! Side note: I lost something like 8 or 10 pounds as a result of being stupidly happy, and a certain increase in physical exertion *ahem* Moving right along. :)
Dunc's bathroom has turned into a kind of holy place for me. It's a little screwy, but that's where this all started. I distinctly remember standing there, staring at my face in the mirror, thinking "Holy shit. You *accidentally* lost 20 pounds. How the hell..? If you can lose that much by accident, what happens if you actually *try*?". That thought sent my brain into over drive. I wish I'd written down all of the thoughts that bounced around in my head that night. I was excited, and joyous, proud, and terrified, confused, frustrated, hopeful, nervous... How was I supposed to do it? I didn't think I could work out because of my back. I didn't think I really ate all that poorly, or very much more than anyone else. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't keep starving myself! I figured that I had to find out how many calories my body needed every day to survive. At that point, I was never really hungry anyway, so why not just eat the minimum and be done with it? I wasn't especially concerned with being healthy. I just wanted to not be fat.
I googled. That's what we do when we don't know the answers nowadays, right? Heh. What I found was http://www.everydayhealth.com/ (sorry, the linky thingy isn't working) I assure you, I wouldn't have lost another pound without this website (or one similar). There are tons of tools there to help you achieve any goal you set. I started with the BMR (basal metabolic rate) calculator. You enter your age, height, weight, and activity level, and it approximates how many calories your body uses in a day. Obviously, this is not exact. It depends on your body. Your metabolism and your level of activity have everything to do with how many calories you use in a day, but you have to use *something* as a guideline. It told me that at 27 years old, 5'9" tall, 254 pounds (Yeah, I said it. That was 22 pounds down, too.), and an essentially sedentary lifestyle, I burned somewhere in the region of 2,350 calories a day. I actually had a real BMR test done a couple of years ago, which put me at about 2,600 a day so this isn't very far off. Anyway, it said that in order to lose a pound a week, I should be eating something like 1,800 calories a day. I had no idea how many calories I ate every day. Did people actually know things like that??? I decided to move from that page, to the BMI (Body Mass Index) calculator. It was 38 that night, and 41 before I lost the 22 pounds. Damn. That can't be good. Morbidly obese? Morbidly?! Really?! Hmmm. Oookay, what's next? Body fat percentage. Uh oh. 60%. Someone just shoot me. Please?
By the time I was done clicking around on everydayhealth, I was literally in tears. I was barely hanging on to any hope, or scrap of joy that I'd found in losing the 22 pounds. I couldn't believe how horrible it felt to see those numbers in black and white. I wanted to just wash my hands of it all, and continue life as usual, but I *knew* that something had to change. I also knew, that the only one who could change it... was me.
(I included a few "before" photos, none of which are even especially bad. I deleted those ones altogether. Still, I had to go through and restore a bunch of pics to their original version, since I was in the habit of cropping 75% of my body out, so I didn't have to look at it. Seeing them now is nothing but inspiration to keep myself on this path. I'll upload some recent ones in the next blog. Maybe seeing the difference will inspire you =D )
I've had more than a few people ask me to blog about my recent weight loss. Initially, I didn't want to do it, because I didn't think I could say anything that hasn't already been said thousands of times. I still feel that anything I say here is going to be very familiar to anyone who has ever thought they could be a few pounds thinner, but you all asked for it!
In case anyone who doesn't know me ever reads this blog (yeah right), I'd just like to note that I am absolutely *not* an authority on weight loss, or fitness, or health, or nutrition, or anything else. I can't tell you with absolute certainty that my approach will work for you. I don't know if it is any healthier than your current habits. All I know is that it's working for me, and it's working *really* well.
This all started in a very unhealthy way. It's nothing I condone, and it's not something I'm proud of, but it is what it is. I am not proud, but I'm not ashamed either. I'm just a human who was utterly heartbroken. Being human and heartbroken combine to form a big black pot of poor behavior. I happened to get lucky and figure out how to turn it into something really good. Yeah, so, heartbreak lead to a complete loss of appetite. The night after I left Duncan's, I went out to an incredible Thai restaurant in Buckhead (Tuk Tuk. I *highly* recommend it to any Thai fans in Atlanta). I had an awesome meal, and then I stopped eating. I had little more than a few hundred calories a day for probably... two weeks, I'd guess (Maybe more. It's all a blur now). I went so long without a substantial meal, that when I finally started eating again, it hurt like hell. I repeat, I *do not* suggest this to anybody. I got sick. I hated myself. It was awful getting into the habit of eating again. The only "good" thing that came of it, was that I lost a bunch of weight. I looked in the mirror one day and saw my jawline clearly for the first time in ages. I was stunned and excited. I happened to be at Duncan's that evening, so I stepped on his scale and saw it there in black and... ehm... puke green-ish? I was 22 pounds lighter than I had been the first time I'd stepped on that scale! Side note: I lost something like 8 or 10 pounds as a result of being stupidly happy, and a certain increase in physical exertion *ahem* Moving right along. :)
Dunc's bathroom has turned into a kind of holy place for me. It's a little screwy, but that's where this all started. I distinctly remember standing there, staring at my face in the mirror, thinking "Holy shit. You *accidentally* lost 20 pounds. How the hell..? If you can lose that much by accident, what happens if you actually *try*?". That thought sent my brain into over drive. I wish I'd written down all of the thoughts that bounced around in my head that night. I was excited, and joyous, proud, and terrified, confused, frustrated, hopeful, nervous... How was I supposed to do it? I didn't think I could work out because of my back. I didn't think I really ate all that poorly, or very much more than anyone else. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't keep starving myself! I figured that I had to find out how many calories my body needed every day to survive. At that point, I was never really hungry anyway, so why not just eat the minimum and be done with it? I wasn't especially concerned with being healthy. I just wanted to not be fat.
I googled. That's what we do when we don't know the answers nowadays, right? Heh. What I found was http://www.everydayhealth.com/ (sorry, the linky thingy isn't working) I assure you, I wouldn't have lost another pound without this website (or one similar). There are tons of tools there to help you achieve any goal you set. I started with the BMR (basal metabolic rate) calculator. You enter your age, height, weight, and activity level, and it approximates how many calories your body uses in a day. Obviously, this is not exact. It depends on your body. Your metabolism and your level of activity have everything to do with how many calories you use in a day, but you have to use *something* as a guideline. It told me that at 27 years old, 5'9" tall, 254 pounds (Yeah, I said it. That was 22 pounds down, too.), and an essentially sedentary lifestyle, I burned somewhere in the region of 2,350 calories a day. I actually had a real BMR test done a couple of years ago, which put me at about 2,600 a day so this isn't very far off. Anyway, it said that in order to lose a pound a week, I should be eating something like 1,800 calories a day. I had no idea how many calories I ate every day. Did people actually know things like that??? I decided to move from that page, to the BMI (Body Mass Index) calculator. It was 38 that night, and 41 before I lost the 22 pounds. Damn. That can't be good. Morbidly obese? Morbidly?! Really?! Hmmm. Oookay, what's next? Body fat percentage. Uh oh. 60%. Someone just shoot me. Please?
By the time I was done clicking around on everydayhealth, I was literally in tears. I was barely hanging on to any hope, or scrap of joy that I'd found in losing the 22 pounds. I couldn't believe how horrible it felt to see those numbers in black and white. I wanted to just wash my hands of it all, and continue life as usual, but I *knew* that something had to change. I also knew, that the only one who could change it... was me.
(I included a few "before" photos, none of which are even especially bad. I deleted those ones altogether. Still, I had to go through and restore a bunch of pics to their original version, since I was in the habit of cropping 75% of my body out, so I didn't have to look at it. Seeing them now is nothing but inspiration to keep myself on this path. I'll upload some recent ones in the next blog. Maybe seeing the difference will inspire you =D )
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Take THAT 2010!
So, I was fighting off misery pretty hard last night. As midnight crept up on me, so did rage, heartache, disbelief, loneliness, betrayal, panic, and self disgust. I managed to distract myself (mostly) long enough to get through the stroke of midnight. There was a flicker of jealousy and quick stab to the chest as Atlanta passed into 2011, but all in all, it was insignificant. I felt victorious. Yeah, victorious... right up until I closed my door behind me and realized that no matter how well I had done at distracting myself, I was alone again.
It made me a little disgusted, and a lot frustrated with myself for letting such a silly thing as being alone make me feel so horrid. Where did I get off being such a pansy, anyway? I mean, had I not completely kicked ass this year? In the grand scheme of things, had I not totally spanked the pants off of 2010? You're damned right I did! So, I decided to show myself, in black and white, just how hard I rock. I wrote a list of my accomplishments for the year, which I will share with whoever decides to give this stupid blog a moment of their time. I may write future entries about some of these accomplishments, but for now, they're self explanatory enough, I think.
So, without further adieu, I present my accomplishments =)
In 2010 I...
1. took my life back.
2. rediscovered my creativity.
3. saw my family again
4. re-connected with my father
5. "met" two of my best friends, after so many years.
6. refused to let that car wreck break me.
7. stopped trying to be everyone's savior.
8. let go of the misery of the past (more than a few) years.
9. crossed Eric Clapton off of my bucket list.
10. allowed myself to fall in love.
11. discovered that people CAN get past my walls without my consent.
12. accepted the fear that comes with #11.
13. identified emotions other than anger and joy.
14. accepted that I am allowed to be happy.
15. found that someone really could love me in the body I was in.
16. learned to lean on someone else emotionally.
17. learned that you can lean too hard.
18. allowed myself to feel pain, and also, to heal.
19. stared heartbreak in the face... and kissed it on the cheek.
20. allowed myself to be completely vulnerable, got burned BAD, and lived to tell about it.
21. assumed responsibility for my body.
22. lost 44 pounds.
23. quit smoking. (Technically, this happened Dec. 30th of 2009, but anyone who argues with me on this one is gonna get a punch in the nuts... even if you don't have nuts)
24. looked in the mirror and saw beauty.
25. started meditating.
26. learned to harness my thoughts and feelings, by writing them down when they're flying around in my head too fast to make sense of them.
27. gave up, opened my heart to a higher power, and asked for help.
28. made new friends.
29. kept up with old ones.
30. recognized signs that were set in my path.
31. finally painted.
32. actually managed to show people what I'd painted, and even gave one away.
33. admitted when I was wrong.
34. learned that all of the answers I need, are already inside of me. I just need to ask the right questions.
35. learned to accept reality, rather than fight tooth and nail to stay on a path that I decided was the right one to walk.
36. made the decision to live my life purposefully instead of acting unconsciously.
38. learned to knit.
39. made myself a beautiful space that encourages my creativity.
40. decided to stop waiting for the perfect moment to start living.
41. bridged the gap between emotional and physical intimacy (no, really... I finally did that!)
42. made the commitment to keep my place tidy... and stuck to it.
43. made a genuine attempt to embrace the Christmas spirit.
44. resolved to never act in anger, unless I'm positive that my anger is justified.
45. started striving for balance, rather than striving for "feeling happy".
46. let myself truly grieve over losing Jennifer.
47. let go of the guilt I felt when my Grandfather died.
48. recognized that I am still struggling with all things relating to my Mother, but am actively working on them.
49. forgave myself for being human
50. made a New Years resolution to find the beauty in all things, dwell in it, create it, BE it, and let it heal me.
For I am nothing more than a wounded person who is determined to heal.
Happy New Year, people. May you find the strength that you need, and the help that I found in 2010, and may you all feel as triumphant as I feel, this moment.
Peace.
It made me a little disgusted, and a lot frustrated with myself for letting such a silly thing as being alone make me feel so horrid. Where did I get off being such a pansy, anyway? I mean, had I not completely kicked ass this year? In the grand scheme of things, had I not totally spanked the pants off of 2010? You're damned right I did! So, I decided to show myself, in black and white, just how hard I rock. I wrote a list of my accomplishments for the year, which I will share with whoever decides to give this stupid blog a moment of their time. I may write future entries about some of these accomplishments, but for now, they're self explanatory enough, I think.
So, without further adieu, I present my accomplishments =)
In 2010 I...
1. took my life back.
2. rediscovered my creativity.
3. saw my family again
4. re-connected with my father
5. "met" two of my best friends, after so many years.
6. refused to let that car wreck break me.
7. stopped trying to be everyone's savior.
8. let go of the misery of the past (more than a few) years.
9. crossed Eric Clapton off of my bucket list.
10. allowed myself to fall in love.
11. discovered that people CAN get past my walls without my consent.
12. accepted the fear that comes with #11.
13. identified emotions other than anger and joy.
14. accepted that I am allowed to be happy.
15. found that someone really could love me in the body I was in.
16. learned to lean on someone else emotionally.
17. learned that you can lean too hard.
18. allowed myself to feel pain, and also, to heal.
19. stared heartbreak in the face... and kissed it on the cheek.
20. allowed myself to be completely vulnerable, got burned BAD, and lived to tell about it.
21. assumed responsibility for my body.
22. lost 44 pounds.
23. quit smoking. (Technically, this happened Dec. 30th of 2009, but anyone who argues with me on this one is gonna get a punch in the nuts... even if you don't have nuts)
24. looked in the mirror and saw beauty.
25. started meditating.
26. learned to harness my thoughts and feelings, by writing them down when they're flying around in my head too fast to make sense of them.
27. gave up, opened my heart to a higher power, and asked for help.
28. made new friends.
29. kept up with old ones.
30. recognized signs that were set in my path.
31. finally painted.
32. actually managed to show people what I'd painted, and even gave one away.
33. admitted when I was wrong.
34. learned that all of the answers I need, are already inside of me. I just need to ask the right questions.
35. learned to accept reality, rather than fight tooth and nail to stay on a path that I decided was the right one to walk.
36. made the decision to live my life purposefully instead of acting unconsciously.
38. learned to knit.
39. made myself a beautiful space that encourages my creativity.
40. decided to stop waiting for the perfect moment to start living.
41. bridged the gap between emotional and physical intimacy (no, really... I finally did that!)
42. made the commitment to keep my place tidy... and stuck to it.
43. made a genuine attempt to embrace the Christmas spirit.
44. resolved to never act in anger, unless I'm positive that my anger is justified.
45. started striving for balance, rather than striving for "feeling happy".
46. let myself truly grieve over losing Jennifer.
47. let go of the guilt I felt when my Grandfather died.
48. recognized that I am still struggling with all things relating to my Mother, but am actively working on them.
49. forgave myself for being human
50. made a New Years resolution to find the beauty in all things, dwell in it, create it, BE it, and let it heal me.
For I am nothing more than a wounded person who is determined to heal.
Happy New Year, people. May you find the strength that you need, and the help that I found in 2010, and may you all feel as triumphant as I feel, this moment.
Peace.
Friday, November 12, 2010
A moment of Jenny
So, I'm having a really hard time writing the "Duncan" blog. Putting into words all of the reasons that I fell in love with him has turned out to be incredibly painful for me. I realize that it is the next logical entry, considering where I ended the last, but it's just too much right now. That being said, I am changing the subject, temporarily, for my own sanity.
New subject: Jennifer- My Jenny girl. My sunshine. My reason to smile, almost every day that I was in Nebraska.
I just heard "Long December" while I was driving home. There is one line in particular ("I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass") that has always guided my mind to Jennifer, and likely always will. That line makes me smile a little. It make me cry a little, too. I smile, because it makes me remember so many awesome moments with her. I cry, because I then wonder how many details I've forgotten. How many shining moments I've let slip from the grasp of my memory. If I could pay to have every memory on DVD, there would be no price too high. I'd make 100 copies and send it to anyone who would protect one for me, in case my copies were destroyed.
God, I miss her. Even still, there is seldom a day where she fails to enter my thoughts. Still, a single thought of her makes my heart swell with more love than I knew I was capable of feeling. Still, I have no words to convey how much she meant to me, or what she changed in me, or how much less of a person I would be if I had never known her. Still, my life is not right without her.
I can't imagine a thing that I wouldn't give up for another sleepy afternoon of snuggling, or for a few laps around the ADC, watching the faces of every single person she passed, light up at the sight of her. Nothing would make me happier than to hear her voice again, giggling at me when I tickled her, or screaming at me for stealing her book. Well, nothing except maybe seeing her smile, or feeling her hug me tightly and press a big squishy kiss on my forehead. I envy the angels who now get those moments.
I wonder if she knew how perfect she was (sometimes I think she was plenty aware!). I wonder if she had any idea how many lives she changed, simply by being. She opened my heart. She made me remember that I even had one to open. She woke me up, slapped me across the face, held up a big huge mirror for me to look into, and loved me even though the reflection in that mirror was a complete disaster. She forced me to be responsible and to hold myself accountable for something other than my own fleeting desire. She made me pay attention and ask questions, all without saying a word. Her silence made me find my own answers. She showed me what it means to truly love someone else more than you could ever love yourself. For that, I will forever be in her debt.
They say that time heals all wounds. I don't know if that's very accurate. Her death hurts no less today than it did the moment I heard the words fall from Vern's mouth. I doubt it will ever hurt any less. I'll take it though. I'd rather feel that pain twice a day for the rest of my life than trade it for the memories, the lessons, or the love.
Jennifer, my love, you are the reason that I am the person I am today. You taught me more, and showed me more love than I have any right to hope for from another person. I miss you more than I can even begin to express, and I hope that wherever you are, whoever you're with loves you as much as I do. Thank you, thank you, baby girl, for changing my life.
New subject: Jennifer- My Jenny girl. My sunshine. My reason to smile, almost every day that I was in Nebraska.
I just heard "Long December" while I was driving home. There is one line in particular ("I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself to hold on to these moments as they pass") that has always guided my mind to Jennifer, and likely always will. That line makes me smile a little. It make me cry a little, too. I smile, because it makes me remember so many awesome moments with her. I cry, because I then wonder how many details I've forgotten. How many shining moments I've let slip from the grasp of my memory. If I could pay to have every memory on DVD, there would be no price too high. I'd make 100 copies and send it to anyone who would protect one for me, in case my copies were destroyed.
God, I miss her. Even still, there is seldom a day where she fails to enter my thoughts. Still, a single thought of her makes my heart swell with more love than I knew I was capable of feeling. Still, I have no words to convey how much she meant to me, or what she changed in me, or how much less of a person I would be if I had never known her. Still, my life is not right without her.
I can't imagine a thing that I wouldn't give up for another sleepy afternoon of snuggling, or for a few laps around the ADC, watching the faces of every single person she passed, light up at the sight of her. Nothing would make me happier than to hear her voice again, giggling at me when I tickled her, or screaming at me for stealing her book. Well, nothing except maybe seeing her smile, or feeling her hug me tightly and press a big squishy kiss on my forehead. I envy the angels who now get those moments.
I wonder if she knew how perfect she was (sometimes I think she was plenty aware!). I wonder if she had any idea how many lives she changed, simply by being. She opened my heart. She made me remember that I even had one to open. She woke me up, slapped me across the face, held up a big huge mirror for me to look into, and loved me even though the reflection in that mirror was a complete disaster. She forced me to be responsible and to hold myself accountable for something other than my own fleeting desire. She made me pay attention and ask questions, all without saying a word. Her silence made me find my own answers. She showed me what it means to truly love someone else more than you could ever love yourself. For that, I will forever be in her debt.
They say that time heals all wounds. I don't know if that's very accurate. Her death hurts no less today than it did the moment I heard the words fall from Vern's mouth. I doubt it will ever hurt any less. I'll take it though. I'd rather feel that pain twice a day for the rest of my life than trade it for the memories, the lessons, or the love.
Jennifer, my love, you are the reason that I am the person I am today. You taught me more, and showed me more love than I have any right to hope for from another person. I miss you more than I can even begin to express, and I hope that wherever you are, whoever you're with loves you as much as I do. Thank you, thank you, baby girl, for changing my life.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Courageous dignity in the presence of fate.
I’ll start this by saying that my life has been a daily struggle since I lived in MA. I haven’t been happy since then. Sometimes, I think that leaving there was the biggest mistake of my life. It’s been nearly ten years since I left New England, and my life has been out of control. I’ve been fighting that every single day. Trying with every ounce of energy that I can find, to manage my life, to control it, to make things go according to my plan. Most days there wasn’t much energy and there wasn’t a very good plan, but being in control is my nature. It’s all I’ve ever known, and it’s the only thing I’m comfortable with. I’ve never felt much of a need to control anybody else, but always to be in complete control of me. “Good things don’t happen to you unless you make them happen.” I’ve always believed that to be true… until now.
Some people will think that I must be very strong and very brave if it took 10 years of fighting before I finally gave in. Some people will be wrong. It seems to me that strength and bravery require stepping outside of your comfort zone, not hiding inside of it. When all you know how to do is fight, it takes true bravery to put down your sword and your shield, and admit defeat. When you’ve been taught to rely on no one but yourself, it takes more strength to ask for help than it does to pretend you’ve got it under control. When you’ve been told that God will hand you nothing that you cannot handle, it takes an awful lot to make you realize that that’s not entirely true.
Realizing that there truly is something greater and more powerful out there than I will ever be, has been a sobering, terrifying, painful experience. It has also been the most beautiful, freeing, exhilarating thing I’ve ever been through. Surrendering to that power, admitting that I can’t do everything on my own, and realizing that my plan is worthless – that has been the biggest test of my character. I have managed to make it through those things. Now, my work is to embody “grace under pressure” and to have “courageous dignity in the presence of fate.” To surrender as a result of fear is a shameful thing. To make the conscious decision to surrender, and to do so with dignity – sometimes, that is an act to be respected.
I suppose now is the time to explain how I’ve come to these conclusions. The breakdown that I wrote about in the first entry of this blog was a defining moment for me. It was as though all of the heartache, pain, and struggle of the past ten years had come crashing down on my soul at once. It’s a bit difficult for me to admit that the catalyst for all of this was heartbreak. I know, I know, you’re all thinking “Heartbreak? You? The one who has such little tolerance for romantic sentiments? The one doesn’t do that icky love stuff?”. Yeah, I stand before you a humbled person. Every once in awhile, it gets me in it’s grasp and pinches my flesh between it’s razor sharp talons (See? I still think it’s cruel, and it’s not all hearts and flowers like some people make it out to be. I haven’t gone completely mad!). Now is one of those times. Right when I thought that things were as bad as they could be, and bound to stay that way forever… Well, that’s when I met Duncan.
Some people will think that I must be very strong and very brave if it took 10 years of fighting before I finally gave in. Some people will be wrong. It seems to me that strength and bravery require stepping outside of your comfort zone, not hiding inside of it. When all you know how to do is fight, it takes true bravery to put down your sword and your shield, and admit defeat. When you’ve been taught to rely on no one but yourself, it takes more strength to ask for help than it does to pretend you’ve got it under control. When you’ve been told that God will hand you nothing that you cannot handle, it takes an awful lot to make you realize that that’s not entirely true.
Realizing that there truly is something greater and more powerful out there than I will ever be, has been a sobering, terrifying, painful experience. It has also been the most beautiful, freeing, exhilarating thing I’ve ever been through. Surrendering to that power, admitting that I can’t do everything on my own, and realizing that my plan is worthless – that has been the biggest test of my character. I have managed to make it through those things. Now, my work is to embody “grace under pressure” and to have “courageous dignity in the presence of fate.” To surrender as a result of fear is a shameful thing. To make the conscious decision to surrender, and to do so with dignity – sometimes, that is an act to be respected.
I suppose now is the time to explain how I’ve come to these conclusions. The breakdown that I wrote about in the first entry of this blog was a defining moment for me. It was as though all of the heartache, pain, and struggle of the past ten years had come crashing down on my soul at once. It’s a bit difficult for me to admit that the catalyst for all of this was heartbreak. I know, I know, you’re all thinking “Heartbreak? You? The one who has such little tolerance for romantic sentiments? The one doesn’t do that icky love stuff?”. Yeah, I stand before you a humbled person. Every once in awhile, it gets me in it’s grasp and pinches my flesh between it’s razor sharp talons (See? I still think it’s cruel, and it’s not all hearts and flowers like some people make it out to be. I haven’t gone completely mad!). Now is one of those times. Right when I thought that things were as bad as they could be, and bound to stay that way forever… Well, that’s when I met Duncan.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
"Where much is born, Much is torn." -Bradley White
October 5th.
This afternoon in the car, I cried out to God. Or gods. Or goddesses. I cried out to anyone/anything that may be able to hear me. I asked for guidance. I asked for an answer. No, that's a lie. This was beyond asking. I begged. I pleaded. I literally, physically cried out through my tears, and with ragged breath- in a moment of absolute agony.
I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where I'm headed, or how to get there. I don't know what obstacles I will find along my path. What I do know is- that moment in the car... that was desperation. That is what lost feels like. THAT, was spiritual and emotional death. Having to admit that you can't do it on your own is no easy task. (Especially for me). I have finally hit my bottom, but that is okay. For once in my life, I know that after a period of rest- after the ashes have settled, and the embers have died down- I will be reborn.
This is the first moment of clarity that I've had in a very long time, maybe ever. What's funny about it, is that it has given me no concrete answers. It has come in the form of peace. Finally, a moment of peace. This is what I've been asking for... this single moment. I've been begging for it for years, and God has finally handed it to me. My job now, is to make the most of it, and see if I can learn how to get back to this place.
Who knows if anyone will read this blog. Who knows if anyone will care. Honestly, it matters not. I'm not writing it for you, but I do invite you to tag along.
Welcome. This is my journey.
This afternoon in the car, I cried out to God. Or gods. Or goddesses. I cried out to anyone/anything that may be able to hear me. I asked for guidance. I asked for an answer. No, that's a lie. This was beyond asking. I begged. I pleaded. I literally, physically cried out through my tears, and with ragged breath- in a moment of absolute agony.
I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where I'm headed, or how to get there. I don't know what obstacles I will find along my path. What I do know is- that moment in the car... that was desperation. That is what lost feels like. THAT, was spiritual and emotional death. Having to admit that you can't do it on your own is no easy task. (Especially for me). I have finally hit my bottom, but that is okay. For once in my life, I know that after a period of rest- after the ashes have settled, and the embers have died down- I will be reborn.
This is the first moment of clarity that I've had in a very long time, maybe ever. What's funny about it, is that it has given me no concrete answers. It has come in the form of peace. Finally, a moment of peace. This is what I've been asking for... this single moment. I've been begging for it for years, and God has finally handed it to me. My job now, is to make the most of it, and see if I can learn how to get back to this place.
Who knows if anyone will read this blog. Who knows if anyone will care. Honestly, it matters not. I'm not writing it for you, but I do invite you to tag along.
Welcome. This is my journey.
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