I never realized

...  (and I would have never believed) that a person's social anxiety could effect socializing online as well.  That's depressing.



<3 M

You Are My Candy Girl

I'm severely addicted to the white stuff - and it ain't crack - it's sugar, baby.

For as long as I can remember, I've used food as a comfort.  It was innocent enough - mum always tried to make me feel better with something sweet when I was down... and my mum was a professional baker!  I think most people find this to be true.  Trouble is, I became severely depressed, and the only comfort I knew was food.

It became a problem when my weight went up and despite a lot of effort, I still had the strong compulsion to satisfy my inner pain with food.  And I developed an eating disorder.

I didn't realize I was trying to stuff the hole that was inside me.

After participating in an intensive DBT group, I had new skills to use: I learned the healthier ways to tolerate distress - the ones that don't do any damage the way drugs, alcohol, over-eating, over-shopping, gambling, and promiscuity do.  So I thought I was okay.

But I still had this problem with food and could not figure it out.

I then participated in an eating disorder group, which helped tremendously by emphasizing meals 2-3 hours apart all day long so that you don't get hungry - hunger in a binge eater is like setting yourself up to fail.  It also emphasized that we do not stigmatize any food as being "bad" food.

I improved. But I still had the problem. I still used food for comfort.  And it wasn't salad either, it was always sugary carbohydrates in some form or another: cookies, cakes, ice-cream, chocolate, breads, etc.

Not only could I not figure out why it was so hard for me, but I also became complacent - it was so normal to me to eat these kinds of foods when I was feeling bad (and I felt bad a hell of a lot) that I didn't think about it - The compulsion was too strong and when I ate the food, I went numb, and then I felt better for a bit.

Of course, health is really important to me, and I'm always trying to make sure I eat well.  I gave up animal products, processed foods, gmo foods, etc. in this pursuit.  But no matter what, I eventually reached for the sugary treat when things got bad enough.

I didn't know I was that depressed.  I thought I got depressed sometimes, but looking back, I think I was just trying to cope - and sugar helped me.  It also made things so much worse.

And now I'm sure that the reason I don't reach for a healthier method of tolerance or comfort is because I've never tried anything that has worked as fast and as well as the food.  Sex works well too, but food is easier to come by.

Last year, when I got into the Nutritarian diet (Joel Fhurman), I learned that when you eat any processed foods, it makes it harder to follow the diet - he strongly suggests refraining completely for best results.  And I pretty much did just that.  Then one day, Brian's daughter came to visit and I thought it would be nice to make some banana bread.  So I found a really healthy recipe and made a loaf.  And I ate a piece. And after that, despite being perfectly content and satisfied without that stuff for months, I felt so strongly pulled to have more... and I did.

And after that, my healthy diet went downhill.

Trying to get myself back on track felt impossible - it seemed that no matter how much I wanted to be healthy, the compulsion to eat the sugary carbs was even stronger.

As I finished off my third? (I don't even remember how many) honey bun, feeling disgustingly sick and full but still needing to finish it, I realized that this was an addiction.

And I don't mean that I'm addicted to food - I'm sure that may be possible, but we sorta need it to live.  I mean addicted to sugar.

I know an addictive behaviour - I've had it with cigarettes and still struggle.  Why I never realized I had the same relationship with sugar as I did with cigarettes, I don't know, but my guess is that it was such a part of my life - right from childhood, that I'd no reason to suspect.  Everyone eats. Everyone needs to eat.  Therefore I just had an eating problem, not an addiction.

The reason I suspected it was sugar and not something else?  I needed sweet things, the sweeter the better - those were what I went for, those are the foods I couldn't stop eating, those were the foods I craved obsessively.

So when Brian came home, I had a talk with home and told him my discovery.  He agreed and said he'd help me in any way he can.

Then, after doing some reading on the topic, I decided to cut out the sugar completely and for good.  This meant any sugar, even honey and maple syrup.  And I had to closely monitor my starchy food intake as that is the type of food I have the problem with.  Starch converts to sugar and ends up having the same effect.

I learned a lot about sugar, and why it is so addictive.  It reacts in the brain the way drugs do.  It's process directly through the liver, like any other toxin.

I learned that Queen Elizabeth was so addicted to sugar that her teeth turned black.

I learned so much that I can't even begin to explain it here and so I'll share some important links/information in future posts on the subject.

The day after I had my realization, I obstained from sugar of any sort.  I didn't even eat bread for the first week... I made Brian hide his bread from me.  I didn't drink coffee because I usually liked it with copious amounts of sugar.

Let me tell you, that first week was horrible!  In all the times I've tried to quit smoking, I have never gone though withdrawals anywhere close to what I went through with the sugar.  If I wasn't addicted to sugar, why would I go through such a bad withdrawal?

My skin wouldn't stop crawling; I was sweating; I couldn't stop clenching my jaw; I was nauseous; I was miserable, moody, depressed, and tired - completely void of energy (even more so than usual and that's saying a lot); and oh my god was I hungry!  All the time.  That deep hunger pain you get when you're just starving - well I had that almost constantly.  I was still eating, but it didn't matter. I later learned this was the body trying to regulate itself since it's been so accustomed to regular doses of sugar my entire life.

During that first week, I felt like I didn't know what to do with myself - like something big was missing inside me and that I would not know how to live without the sugar - not because of the cravings, but because I felt like I was walking around with a giant gaping hole right in the center of me and I just couldn't comprehend feeling that way for, I believed, the rest of my life.

I'd been filling that hole with sugar.  I didn't know any other way.  And now the hole was no longer being filled, and I had to deal with that, I had to deal with how that felt.

I want to touch on that more, but in another post.

I don't remember all my withdrawal symptoms, but I remember what happened after just a few days of no-sugar: food started to taste sweeter.  Just natural food, like vegetables, so much sweeter and more delicious. Everything tasted better in a way that quitting smoking could not even compare to.

Don came over with coffee and so I decided to try it without sugar anyway... the coffee tasted almost as sweet as it did when I was drinking it with a crap-load of sugar!  I thought this was amazing.

I also plan to make a post about the effects of going off of sugar, so look for that one if you're curious.

In the meantime, here's a list of behaviours that someone with an addiction portrays (taken from various sources), all of which are true of myself when it comes to sugar:

• Inability to limit use of a substance or activity
• A craving or compulsion to use the substance or activity.
• Recurrent use escalates to achieve the desired effect, indicating tolerance.
• Attempts to stop usage produces symptoms of withdrawal
• Becoming preoccupied with the addiction, spending a lot of time on planning, engaging in, and recovering from the addictive behavior 
• Secretiveness
• Lying to hide the addiction
• A pattern of avoiding and binging
• The person takes the substance and cannot stop - in many cases, at least one serious attempt was made to give up, but unsuccessfully.
• Addiction continues despite health problem awareness - the individual continues taking the substance regularly, even though they have developed illnesses linked to it.
• An addicted person commonly feels they need their drug to deal with their problems.
• Obsession - an addicted person may spend more and more time and energy focusing on ways of getting hold of their substance, and in some cases how to use it.
• in many cases the addict may take their substance alone, and even in secret.
• A significant number of people who are addicted to a substance are in denial. They are not aware (or refuse to acknowledge) that they have a problem.
• Excess consumption
• Dropping hobbies and activities - as the addiction progresses the individual may stop doing things he/she used to enjoy a lot.
• Having stashes - the addicted individual may have small stocks of their substance hidden away in different parts of the house or car; often in unlikely places.
• Taking an initial large dose. For example, the individual may gulp drinks down in order to get drunk and then feel good.
• Relationship problems
• Feel guilty or ashamed.
• Have friends or family members who are worried about your addiction
• Need to partake in the substance in order to relax or feel better.
• Regularly consume more than you intended to.

It's been over three weeks since I've had any sugar.  I don't regret it.  In fact, I feel so much better.  But I'm going to have to be diligent about it for the rest of my life because it is so easy to stray, as I've learned.

<3 M

 

Climbing Out Of My Skin

All my life I've been interested in many things, some of which have become passions of mine. This has made it seem impossible to figure out what it is I'm supposed to be doing with my life as far as purpose and an actual career.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to go to "Universary" and become a teacher.  When I got older and discovered I could write as a career and not just as a hobby, that's exactly what I was gonna do.

There have been a lot of hiccups.  In my late teens I became severely depressed and it completely stunted me.  I went inward and left life behind.  It immobilized me mentally and emotionally, and consequently socially and psychologically.

When I started to really pick up the pieces in my early twenties, I had to leave a promising job due to unexplainable physical and mental problems.  I was diagnosed by doctors and deemed unable to work.

When one spends several years in stagnation, trying skill-lessly to get better, apart from 'normal' life and 'normal' schedules, it becomes increasingly harder to get your head above water, and keep it there.  Life slowly but surely becomes purposeless, unnecessarily hard, and farther and farther out of reach.

It feels like I've been fighting forever and for the better part of those years, not getting very far.  I've learned a few lifetimes worth of lessons and gained a lot of skills and wisdom.  I just kept chipping away at the big boulder and after a long time, began to see it take some form.  For the longest time it just seemed like it wasn't ever going to budge.

But for the past few years, I've been able to see the difference of then and now - how far I've come.

When I was younger I was extremely ambitious and I had goals and dreams, plans for the future.  After years of living the kind of life I was living, I slowly stopped dreaming.  I didn't even notice it for a while but one day I realized I had no idea what I wanted my life to look like anymore, just that I didn't want it to look like it did.

I still had my many interests and passions, but no direction and no real idea of how to go about getting it.  It made me so sad to think I had no goals other than the same few goals I'd had for all these years: basic goals for my health since my health problems had weighed me down so much.  You could go through my journals throughout the years and see the same exact themes, year in and year out, struggling with myself against the same obstacles and never seeming to get anywhere.  It was really sad.

The good news is that I am mentally out of that place - I am now able to conceive of and institute plans, goals, and purpose in my life and for a while now I've been on a journey of self-discovery to figure out what that means for me.

Most recently in my journey, I came across an apparent stumbling block - the same damn block that has been there my whole adult life when it came down to deciding on a purpose/career: I don't know what I'm meant to do because I'm passionate about many things!

If my only true passion were writing, that would be easy.  But that isn't the case.  And I struggle with trying to figure out what path to follow.  What if I choose the wrong thing and waste too much time before I figure that out?  And I know I wouldn't be satisfied with any one thing (yes, I'm difficult).  I've been all over the place as far as my pursuits in life go and though I need a direction, I don't wish to ignore my passions as purposes in exchange for just one.

Obviously I've thought of choosing one and doing the other things as side projects.  But that hasn't seemed to fit either: the reason I'm so passionate about the things I'm passionate about is because they are all vehicles to the same end, and that end is my purpose.

I've always believed anything is possible and so I haven't given up on figuring this out.  I need to figure this out.  And then last night I learned a few new words:

Multipotentialism

A term defined in 1972 by R.H. Frederickson for people who, “when provided with appropriate environments, can select and develop a number of competencies to a high level.”

(from puttylike.com)

A multipotentialite is a person who has many different interests and creative pursuits in life.

Multipotentialites have no “one true calling” the way specialists do. Being a multipotentialite is our destiny. We have many paths and we pursue all of them, either sequentially or simultaneously (or both).

Multipotentialites thrive on learning, exploring, and mastering new skills. We are excellent at bringing disparate ideas together in creative ways. This makes us incredible innovators and problem solvers.

When it comes to new interests that emerge, our insatiable curiosity leads us to absorb everything we can get our hands on. As a result, we pick up new skills fast and tend to be a wealth of information.

Polymath/Renaissance Person.

A polymath (Greek: πολυμαθής, polymathēs, "having learned much") is a person whose expertise spans a significant number of different subject areas. In less formal terms, a polymath (or polymathic person) may simply be someone who is very knowledgeable. Most ancient scientists were polymaths by today's standards.


So I'm not alone.  *phew*  So now what?

Well now I feel less stressed out about it, for one thing.  This is not a bad thing!  I've never been comfortable in any box and I don't see how I could ever be happy trying.  And why bother if that's not what I'm meant to do?

So what I need to do is figure out how to take my passions and turn them into a career - into something fulfilling, something that aides people in some way, and something that allows me to be financially independent.  This is now the journey I'm on.  I now feel I have permission not to be pigeonholed into one specific expertise.  I just need to figure out what it will look like.

I had an awesome brainstorming session with Brian today - we listed the main things I'm passionate about doing.  One thing is for certain, there is a very strong theme that runs throughout all of those things and that is healing... in all aspects.  Health and well-being is what I want both for myself and for others.  This seems to be the epitome of what I need to offer the world in whatever ways I can.

Brian and I came up with a pretty good idea that I am definitely going to develop though I can't be positive yet if that is the exact direction I'm going.  It is very promising though.  One sure way I can tell it is right is that it immediately brought up a lot of fears as well as a feeling of a huge weight lifting off my shoulders.  We shall see.

But there are some things I have to do before I can get where I want to be - getting over my social anxiety is the most important one and the balls are already rolling on that.  That's a huge one.  Huge fears and huge discomfort.  That will be an interesting journey.  But I'm eager to get on with it so I can start doing more with my life.

My next step, aside from the above and doing more research on my possibilities, is formulating plans for my various goals - something I've learned is essential to do if you want to accomplish ANYTHING lol.

I have a lot of work ahead of me - I couldn't be more excited or terrified!


<3 M

Pleasure Before Mastery

 I long to be creative, to make art, write, etc.  But I have other things I need to do first.  When I'm done those things, then I can relax and make art.  This thinking has wasted so much time and creative energy.  I ALWAYS have things to do.  Always.  To Do lists never end.  That's life.  I'm basically sentencing myself to a lifetime of waiting to do what my soul needs to do.  Why do I punish myself like that?

I've always been black and white like that.  Once I get everything done, then I can do this.  That kind of thinking usually results in a lot of stress, unhappiness, and being unproductive.  I always forget that it's progress, not perfection.

When I was in therapy, I learned a few important things on the subject.  I learned that people don't tend to continue doing anything unless they derive some sort of pleasure from it.  This is why it's important for people who are depressed to find things to do that they enjoy to help get them out of their rut, rather than try and try in vain to develop habits that, though would improve their lives, they derive no pleasure from.  The results have to be instant, or there's nothing to hold their interest long term.

And one good way to do this is to follow the 'Pleasure Before Mastery' rule.  This rule means that instead of doing something masterful (something effective, responsible, dutiful, that sort of thing) and then rewarding yourself with something pleasurable like relaxing or indulging in a hobby you enjoy, you should do it the other way around: you should do something pleasurable and then do something masterful. 

It might not make a lot of sense, but when you think about it, aren't you in a much better mood, perhaps more energetic and fulfilled after doing something for yourself? Something that feeds your soul, replenishes you and, in turn, makes you a more productive person.  If you get the "fun" out of the way, you're much more likely to get more things done than if you were to with-hold pleasurable activities till your to-do list is done.

I have tried this and can say it does work.  I know a lot of people would think it's silly to do things this way, but those people probably value doing rather than being, and that's fine for them.  For me, life is not about to-do lists but I certainly do a wonderful job of making it about that.

I dare you to try this.  I'm going to take my own advice and make sure I start my day with at least one pleasurable activity.  Then, I will be all responsible and stuff :-)  I do not want to die knowing I wasted my life on a perpetual to do list, waiting for it's completion to actually live.  I am tired of being in a state of preparation.  I've spent way too much of my life waiting to live it.

<3 M

It's The Moon I Tells Ya, The Moon!

< update >

NaNoWriMo:

It is day 9, halfway through the second week and all I have written is 844 words.  I started writing on day 1 and went into panic mode.  This never happened in the last two years I participated, but this year I am suffering especially from depression and high anxiety.  Not because of NaNoWriMo, but because of the S.A.D., the medication adjustment a few months ago, and some other things going on in my life (worries and whatnot).

I haven't been able to bring myself to write anymore.  The document has sat open on my task bar since November 1st.  I just closed it though.  Even though I am so behind I still had a faint hope of catching up, which under normal circumstances would be hard but not impossible.  But I just found out today that I am probably moving on December 1st.

It bothers me that I wasn't able to accomplish it this year, but I'm going to try to write my ass off in 2012 to make up for it.

'Space Project':

I got really far, actually I only needed to put some art on the wall and it's done.  If I can get my camera to work soon I'll post a photo, but I see no point in continuing the project since I'm moving in about three weeks.  I will create my space in the new place (along with many other things) and will blog all about it.

< /update >


<3 M

When I Wake Up, In My Make Up

Today is pretty much a write-off.  Not gonna get any of the things done that I wanted to.  But that's okay.  At least that's what I'm telling myself.  The world is not going to esplode or anything because I wasn't able to make the daily quota.  Gonna go to bed early, hopefully wake up with some energy and make up for today's idleness.

Brian came to visit me this morning.  It's good to have a reason to get out of bed.  We kind of messed up the bed a lot though :-p  He brought me coffee and carrot cake and love.  He tries to give me love even though I'm really hard to love when I am down in the dumps as I am.  He is awesome.

Then I went to the doctor's.  And on my way there it occurred to me that three months ago I took it upon myself to lower my dosage of Celexa from 30mg to 20mg.

I've been trying to decipher exactly why my depression right now is as strong as it is because it feels much worse than the usual onset of S.A.D. and my life situation is not that bad.  So I don't know why it took me so long to put two and two together.  My brain is annoying funny sometimes.

So I'm kinda hoping this is the reason for the depression and that once I go back to taking my old dosage I will start to improve.  Crossing my fingers on that one. Gonna start tomorrow.

P.S. I need a new webcam, the one I have is pretty much useless and I want to have Skype dates with Brian.  Please to point me in the direction of a decent, inexpensive cam?


<3 M

I Am S.A.D. N' Stuff

I don't want to sleep all day.  I have delayed sleep phase disorder and S.A.D. - a combination that sorta leaves me fighting a losing battle regarding actually have a choice in the matter as to when I do or do not sleep.

I have a sun lamp, which is supposed to (and does) help with both the sleep disorder and the S.A.D. because they both have much to do with the circadian rhythm.  Well I believe the lamp is helping me with my mood but not with my sleep cycle.  But that's my fault.  If you don't use the lamp around the time you want your body to wake up (say, mid morning) than you won't.  Because I've been sleeping all day and using the lamp at like two or three in the afternoon, I'm not getting any change.

So I need to somehow get my ass out of bed earlier.  It's so hard to do that when all you wanna do is sleep cause you're so tired and your natural instinct is to hibernate during the dark half of the year (I am the bear and the owl ya know) and you have no solid reason to actually get up anyway because you have no real obligations, plans, or responsibilities.

I'd argue that I have responsibility to myself but if that case held any weight I'd be a much healthier person right now.

I'm sure it will all work out, it always does in some way.

I think I really need to start making plans and following them - I know I would feel much less scattered, unorganized, and directionless.  I stopped caring years ago about having goals.  When I was younger, I had so many goals and dreams.  After a while of being depressed and emotionally fucked up, I stopped having goals other than "get better" and since I never got better (for a long time that is), my goals didn't change.

Since I've been improving tremendously and the longing to have real goals again has come back, I found myself lost, not knowing what the hell I even wanted. As if I had forgotten how to even have goals.  It saddened me to realize how far away I had gotten from myself to not even know what I wanted.

Luckily(? hehe), I have a boyfriend who needed help figuring out how to make and implement/achieve goals.  Exasperated (for some reason), I set out to teach him, frustrated because of how easy it was to do so (and why didn't he know how?).  Isn't the ego a funny thing?  Here I am, struggling with the exact same issue (way to be aware of yourself, right?) and acting like some kind of expert on the subject.
 
But I did it.  I taught him how to do it.  And it was effective.  And as I taught, I realized this was exactly what I needed to be doing for myself.  I can be a very wise person but I really suck at the actual doing and sticking to part of things.

So I did sit down and make some goals for myself, in all areas of life.  And I even created a neat little binder with dividers to categorize the goals and keep track of them etc.  I put a lot of work into making this little binder, my GOALS & PLANS binder, to make it all organized and pretty and stuff. 

And that's where I stopped.

I made this binder at least two months ago.  I have not even looked at it since.  I have not looked at any of the goals I made.  I'm not exactly sure why I do this sort of thing.  I know part of it is fear of failure.  Another part is how scattered I have felt for so long that I never know what I should be doing at any given moment since there is so much I need and want to do and no actual schedule or priority and anything.  Did I mention I am good at excuses too?  ;-)  Basically, I overwhelm easily and I am good at overwhelming myself on an almost daily basis.

So what should I do?  Open that damn binder! 


<3 M

In My Mind

This song seems to do a good job of straightening out my thinking:





<3 M

How Bizarre

Saturday Brian and I went to what is known as the 'Bizarre Bizarre.'  This is where a bunch of kink/fetish vendors get together and sell their wares.  We went to the last one and it was pretty cool and since friends of ours were going to be vending, we thought we should go to this one as well.

Brian won TWO prizes! It's like he has a horseshoe up his ass lately...

One of his prizes was a wooden paddle and the other was so extremely UN-usable for us (it was a sounding kit LOL) so he gave it to someone who would actually enjoy it.

Plus he picked up quite a few other toys... yay!

I wasn't planning on buying anything but I somehow ended up trying on a corset.  I was about to buy it when my friend came over and saved me from making a bad purchase.  This led the corset-lady to retrieve the one corset she had in her car for me to try, which turned out to fit/look fabulous on me.

It's a really good quality corset, steel boning, and apparently looks like it was made for me.  And I got it for half price!  Woot!  Can't wait to wear it!  Here's a picture:

 

And they threw in a little hat for free because they thought it looked cute on me lol.  So that was pretty awesome.

It felt nice to get a lot of attention like that at least for just a bit.  Nice distraction.  

Unfortunately, the S.A.D. has hit pretty hard this year, and I'm fighting my ass off to not slip into a bad depression.  It's fucking hard though.  There's not enough transition time between summer and cold weather, at least it seems that way.  It seems to come out of nowhere: last weekend was hot, this weekend was freezing.

Blah.

I just feel like hell.  I feel like I'm having a mid-life crisis, without the midlife part.  I don't know what to do with myself. I want to go in so many directions and it's overwhelming cause I have no idea where to start or what my priorities are.

And I can't stop eating!

I quit smoking a month ago and I just want to eat and eat and eat.  Being depressed does not help the matter.

Oh well, at least I don't smoke.

<3 M

How I See Myself

I abhor the way I look in photos.  I don't mind photos of myself where I see some semblance of how I appear to myself in the mirror... it's when I have no control of the photo... when someone takes my photo and I see it.... it freaks me out in a severely unhealthy way.  Yes, I know this is delusional... the person I see in the mirror is a perception of myself - the photos I like of myself are similar to what I see in the mirror... the photos I hate are probably the ones that actually look like me.  Yet, when I see these photos, I am quite literally horrified and sickened.  I can't even see beauty in them, I see something disgusting, a blog that takes up entirely too much space.  It's kind of like seeing a horribly disfigured monster... no semblance of me in there, at least not the me I know.

Yet, people (so they claim) find me attractive, beautiful even.  I don't get it.  This is not a pity party, this is me trying to dissect this whole thing and figure out why I have such as drastically different vision of myself on both ends of the spectrum.  What I see in the mirror seems to be a more positive projection of who I am, while photos of me seem to be a more negative projection - I have reason to beleive that how I'm seeing myself in these photos is an extreme magnification of what I perceive are my flaws.  I'm not saying that the photos don't look true to life, I'm just saying that judging by the intensity of my reaction to seeing them, it would make sense that my brain is playing some tricks on me.

Honestly, I don't think I ever see myself the way others see me in the flesh, and I don't think I ever have.  Back when I was thin, I thought I looked/was fat; now that I'm fat, I have no idea how I look because how I see myself in the mirror changes all the time... even as often as hourly.

I just don't get it.  Seeing a photo of myself shouldn't bring me to tears - that's some serious issues. 

So what is the answer? Is there even a answer?  How the hell can it be so confusing?  I pretty much look the same all the time (like most people) so why can't I just SEE myself in the same way?  So fucking depressing.


<3 M

The Summer Is Tricksy

I don't like the way my body/mind plays tricks on me during the light half of the year: what I mean is, every spring I start to 'come back to life' - I wake up from depression and low energy, I start to feel good and I start to really live the way I try so hard to live throughout the entire year but never seem to be able to during the dark half of the year.  This is, of course, wonderful.  The bad part about it this particular year is that never before have I worked so hard on improving myself than I have this past year and things are starting to really come together for me, slowly but surely.  My worry is whether or not it is only because it's spring and not because my hard work is paying off.  If it's only because it's spring, then I'm bound to fall once again when November comes around and that would really really suck because I'm so sick of the struggle.  But if it's not just a coincidence, well then that's a huge deal for me.

After severe anxiety, worry, and fear I finally FINALLY started going to the YWCA to exercise.  I almost passed out from panic just going there to sign up.  But something strange happened when I actually went to the gym to work out - as I was working my poor neglected muscles/body, I came to the realization that I was actually enjoying myself... I've told myself my whole life that I hate exercise, that exercise and I never got along, that I was born that way.  This is true in a way: I was, since birth, a very sedentary person, preferring to live in my head rather than do much moving.  But now I realize why I thought I hated exercise so much that it was making it next to impossible to start and keep to any kind of regiment: I have osteoarthritis and fibromylagia - both of those diseases are about pain, pain, and pain.  I'm in constant pain.  So whenever I've tried to exercise, it hurt like a bitch!  No wonder I didn't want to do it.  Turns out though, that if I stay away from the high impact stuff (cause that damages my joints and makes my disease worse) and make sure I'm not hurting myself in the "bad way," then it's actually enjoyable!  It still hurts, but it hurts in the way that it's supposed to hurt, the way exercise hurts any normal healthy person, that wonderful burn that tells you you're making your body stronger.  I actually like exercise, who knew?

I'm very eager now, I want to do so much, so I'm having to force myself to take my time so I don't overdo it and hurt myself or set myself up for failure.  I wish I had discovered this years ago, but you can't change the past.  So far I'm spending an hour at the gym three days a week.  Next week I'm going to start adding swimming (like aqua therapy, water jogging, etc) to my routine.  Eventually I want to be working out at least five days a week and I'd like to do some of the yoga and pilates classes they offer as well.  What a huge breakthrough for me!

I've been terrified for quite a few years now of starting any kind of routine in my life because in the past I have always failed and after so many times failing, you start to feel defeated and hopeless.  I haven't had structure in my life since I was in high school, and even then it wasn't very structured so I'm having to relearn how to do it in almost every aspect of my life.  I have severe "all or nothing" thinking, so that poses a challenge all on its own - it's like learning to live from scratch in a way.  But I have a kick-ass therapist and she suggested having a plan for failure: a simple concept yet I never thought of it.  I always thought I should just be able to pick up and start again if I failed, but it's not always that simple, and having an actual plan to follow is such a great concept and makes me feel more secure in being able to succeed.

So there's that.

In other news, I love plants.  Every single spring for years and years I attempt a garden on my balcony and every single year I kill my plants.  In the past I always thought it was because I end up neglecting them when I get depressed (which is true too), but this year I've realized, sadly, that I kind of don't really like gardening, and I'm kind of not very good at it lol.  I wouldn't say I have a brown thumb, but I'm having to accept that I should stop trying to have a damn garden and just buy the organic produce from those who know what they're doing.  I have a few plants out there now so we'll so how those do, but after this, I'm gonna go steal Sunny's tomatoes ;o)

What else is going on... my best friend is moving to another city :o(  This is really hard for  me, really really hard.  A  year ago I would be in bed crying all day and night planning my own demise over this, but I've grown a fuck-tonne and I will be okay.  It's going to be hard though, he's more than just a best friend, if that makes any sense.  And I guess after a year and half I should meet the girlfriend...  I'm kind of proud of us though - we managed to stay close friends after all the turmoil and heartache and through such difficult circumstances when it really would have been easier ultimately to go our separate ways, we knew the value of our friendship and chose the path less traveled in order to keep each other in our lives.  Who knew it could be done?  The hard stuff is still not over yet, but I think the majority of it is definitely behind us.  Here's hoping the future rewards us!


Love M

Baby Got Back

K I feel like writing so here we go.

On the subject of FAT...

 I am.  duh.  I was a chubby little girl until I hit puberty, at which point I naturally thinned out.  To tell you the truth, I didn't really notice: as far as I know, I thought I was the same size the whole time (chubby or even fat, even when I was not).  So anyway, I thinned out and was pretty damn hot (looking back, of course you never realize it at the time - don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got till it's gone?).  I still thought I was fat though, not huge but definitely "big boned," which is why dieting was always in the back of my mind, always always always.  Looking back I can't beleive how sick that was, that I thought I was fat when I was so not: I was damn fine and healthy too.  Nonetheless, I remember putting a picture I'd cut out of a magazine on the fridge of a super skinny model - inspiration to lose weight, I said.

So then what happened?  Well, first of all, at some point along the way ( think I was either thirteen or fifteen but can't remember at the moment) I "discovered" emotional eating.  Well I didn't know that's what it was at the time, but I discovered it nonetheless.  Luckily it wasn't something I did too often and it didn't effect my weight too much, probably because I was still somewhat active and healthy.  It's no coincidence that this discovery of emotional eating came around the same time as I was becoming unknowingly depressed.  I won't go into what was going on and why that added to the depression but just that it was something I was unaware of, I just thought I was weird and super sensitive (I am both those things, but I was also depressed lol).

What's weird about being depressed in my house is that every single person in my family has some mental disorder or another (usually various) but no one said anything to me about possibly being depressed, nothing.  Not sure why, but I've always been a bit bitter about that.  Back to the topic.

Now, when I was somewhere in my mid teens I fell disgustingly deep in love with a good friend of mine.  This caused me a lot of turmoil and inevitably ended in heartbreak for me.  How badly was I hurt?  Let's just say I only just got over it a few years ago, and I am currently twenty-eight.  I got so depressed (still didn't know I had depression btw) that I eventually left my job and school (on the same day) and slowly but surely began shutting the world out, becoming a hermit, pretty much.

And this is where that wonderful thing called emotional eating came in handy.  I embraced that coping mechanism, consciously knowing that I would probably gain weight and not caring (because what's the point in looking and feeling good if you don't see any hope for the future?).  With the mixture of inactivity and emotional eating, I, of course, did start gaining and I still didn't care.  I'm sure I cared on some level but at the time I was too depressed to care.  That's how hopeless I felt.

I eventually got to the point where I started to suspect there might be something wrong going on and made an appointment with the doctor.  This is when I found out that I did indeed have depression.  They diagnosed me with bipolar (because I would go into deep deep depression and then mania) and anxiety and gave me some pills.

By this time I had a full-out eating disorder and was discovering that even though I didn't want to gain weight anymore, it was starting to become out of my control (that's the best way I can put it I think).  And I was still depressed. And I didn't know how to get control of my eating again, I just thought I was weak and pathetic.  I kept gaining weight.

Then, in my early twenties I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and osteoarthritis.  No wonder physical activity was so hard, I thought I was just lazy.  Try and lose weight when you're severely depressed, have an eating disorder, and have physical disabilities.  Right, sounds fun eh? 

So I became double the size I used to be - the size of two of me.  And trying to lose weight the whole time by dieting dieting dieting and trying to exercise.  The dieting wasn't so hard as the exercise, for obvious reasons, but the mental turmoil one goes through when struggling with body image issues is a sickness I wish upon no one - yoyo dieting, all diets that are extremely unhealthy, for years.  None of them worked.  Diets don't work.  I knew that, I knew it had to be a permanent lifestyle change, but by then I was so deep into the cycle of punishing myself for failing by starving myself, then inevitably binging out of starvation and comfort.  I now understand that this becomes a mental disorder that only gets worse.

And so I kept trying and the harder I tried, the more weight I gained.  I know that doesn't make any sense, but if you're in such a sick cycle it just keeps making you sicker and making things more distorted and eating away at your self-worth and that forbidden comfort food becomes no different than a drug addiction.  The only difference is that you have to eat, which makes it harder to avoid.

And that's why I'm fat.  Mind you, I don't think being fat is necessarily bad - we all have some amount of fat on our bodies, it's just when you have too much that it can take a toll on your health.  If I were able to lose weight (let's hope so!) I wouldn't want to be skinny, I'd want to be pleasantly plump, as they say.  That's just me.

There are many judgments about fat people, and I can understand why: it's a simple scientific formula - burn more calories than you consume and lose weight.  Unfortunately, when an eating disorder develops, when there's severe depression going on, when physical activity is limited, this simple formula is moot.  Don't tell a fat person to just stop eating because you never know if they're like me and get anxiety attacks just walking into the kitchen because they don't want to have to eat but know they need to.

Ultimately I'm not trying to make excuses for myself because that does no one any good, I'm just explaining how I got where I am and why I'm here.

Some days I feel absolutely disgusting, nothing but a blob of grossness that no one would ever want to look at.  In fact I've stayed in many times because I thought no one should have to look at me.  Sick, no?  Some days I actually feel kinda hot, like yes I'm fat but I'm still damn sexy bitches ;o)  Both of those are true depending on who's looking.  So what others think doesn't really matter.  There are plenty of men who love fat chicks, it turns their crank, but at the end of the day, it's me whose opinion matters and I'm not comfortable being as fat as I am.  This goes for aesthetics as well (and especially) health.

While it's true that you can be relatively healthy and fat, there are still things going on inside your body that are not good - things have to work harder because of the extra weight and that puts stress on important processes, resulting in adverse health effects.  Thinking about what my body is going through makes me sad, I want to be healthy.

I was at a level weight for a few years, but in the past year I have gained a lot more weight (yes, another severe heart break by a man I love) and this has accelerated my distorted thinking about eating and my body and all of that good stuff.  But some really good stuff has happened in that time as well:  I finally started seeing a therapist (I know, after being depressed most of my life you'd think I'd have gotten one sooner, but that's a whole other story of woe) and she is fucking awesome.  I've been in a DBT group (Dialectic Behavioural Therapy) as well, which has helped me so much.  And in about two weeks, I will be starting in an eating disorder program at the hospital.

If this doesn't help me, I don't know what will.  I recently went to an information seminar for getting gastric bypass surgery, determined that this was my only hope, I fully intended on going for it.  But after the information session, there was no way, I was really disappointed at finding out what it's really like and that the only thing getting that surgery does is help you lose a bunch of weight really quickly (the way you would on a fad diet) and you have to change your lifestyle by eating right and exercising anyway, the same way you would without the surgery.  There is no difference, well, except for all the serious health risks and permanent sacrifices, etc.  I could get the same results going on a shake diet for a few months and then dieting and exercising - I think I've already tried that lol.

Just learning DBT skills in the past six or so months has already helped me immensely with how I deal with food.  I'm hopeful that the next six months, plus my therapy, plus the next year in an eating disorder group will be just what I need to get healthy.  I'm tired of everything being about my weight.  Just the fact that I would never tell anyone the number on the scale tells me how shameful it makes me feel, cause as some of you know, I'm not the most private person, I tell all! lol  I would like to think, after being rejected by a man, that it's because of my horrible personality and not because I'm fat :op  There is some truth to wanting that, trust me.

I've learned a lot through the  years of being in a fat body...

I've learned the importance of not judging someone by their looks.  I've learned that it's still okay (socially acceptable) to say hateful things to or about a fat person, to discriminate against them for how they look.  I've learned that the media is disgusting.  I've learned that people can eat well and exercise and still be fat.  I've learned that they should stop making polyester/nylon clothing for plus size women because it's the most unflattering, worst possible fabric for anyone with curves, lumps, or bumps.  Oh, and I've also recently learned that there are ingredients in most of the food we buy, such as high fructose corn syrup and MSG that actually effect the body in a way that negates the scientific formula of natural weight loss (calories consumed/calories burned) - it is really sad to find this out because there are some people who try so hard to lose weight and they are unknowingly consuming these additives, not knowing it is likely making their struggle pointless.  I've learned a lot more, but I think I'm about done writing for now.

There was no real point in writing this, I just felt like talking about it so thanks for indulging.

P.S. Fat people need love too please :o)


Love M

I Can Haz Chocolate?

I figure it's time for some sort of update as I haven't posted in a while.  My mood's been low but I'm still kicking.  I went through a couple of bad dating experiences in the last few months and it just deflated me.  I don't handle pain well, ya see.  Then again, who does?  Right now I'm just trying to bring myself back up - I have absolutely no energy for most things and I just wanna go to bed.  A couple of other really hard things have come up now too and my emotions are very confused and fragile because of it.  So if anyone wonders why I've been acting crazier than usual, or why I'm doing fuck-all, now you know and hopefully forgive me.  If you read this blog and wonder if the girl called 'Marylin' is ever actually happy, the answer is 'yes, yes she is.'  It is only the fact that I do a lot of my blogging when I'm feeling down because I find it extremely healing - that is why this place paints such an angsty picture.

Now that that's out of the way... let's see what I wanna talk about.

Last Friday I went to two interesting stores with Jodie and Mike: first, Ways To Wisdom, which I've been to before, then, a Catholic supply store that I forget the name of down in the east end, which I've never been to.

Ways To Wisdom is a fun store if you're into spirituality and occult-type stuff, which I am.  Aside from the ridiculously high prices, it's a great store - a lot of interesting books on varying topics and any kind of thing you might want, from herbs and candles, to jewelery and oracle cards.  I found a beautiful set of cards but too much moola.  Anyway, it was fun times.

Then to the Catholic supply store.  This is a store that sells... well, Catholic stuff.  Books, bibles, rosaries, pictures of Jesus, crucifixes, candles, economy packs of the communion host, and priest's robes.  Not remembering where I was, the first thing I did when I walked in the door upon seeing a ginormous poster of Jesus's face was exclaim "holy mary mother of god!!!"  This set the tone for the experience.  The store clerk proceeded to administer dirty looks as we browsed and asked questions regarding each of our standing in the Catholic church.  The judgmental tone did not go unnoticed when asked what church I go to.  I nervously responded, feeling like no time had passed by since I was a kid being taught to be very very afraid and very very ashamed by the very adults meant to shape my mind for the future.  Why the need to feel guilty for just standing there, examining merchandise?  No need, just the natural way of things I suppose: the church can have a strong hold on a person, most especially those who grew up in it.  My fifty-something year old father is still strongly affected by his attendance at Catholic elementary school - I've only been cut loose for a decade and a half.

I walked out of that store and noticed I was holding my breath.  Wow.  That is what I call powerful black magic.  I found the experience of both stores interesting to in comparison and thought I'd share.  I'm not saying any one spiritual path is better or worse than another, I'm just speaking my own experience.  Though I will openly admit I am vehemently against organized religion that uses guilt and fear and any other cult-like device to keep its followers in control - I consider that a form of harm and therefore, bad karma.  Not to mention it does nothing to allow for real spiritual growth.  For me, I don't do religion, and this is just me, I'm not against religion per say (sp?), but I'm personally unable to fit inside a box.  I'm spiritual, and that is good enough for me.  I could talk on this subject forever so I'll move on.

I'll move on to somewhat political things... I guess I'm in the mood to discuss the un-discussable topics.

I don't know how many of you have noticed, but the world is going to 'hell in a handbag' at incredible speed these days.  If you're keeping up with the goings-on of the world,  you might have noticed things are pretty bad and getting worse.  Some people wonder why I talk about conspiracies, thinking I'm a nut or something, but what I talk about is what I see and hear right in front of my face: I read the and watch various news sources, I learn about the history of what is going on, the history of war, the history of politics and religion and whatever else will help make sense of current affairs, I listen to the words and watch the actions of those in power and I feel the need to speak out about it, because I care.

What I don't understand are people who think that everything anti-establishment or anti-government is either conspiracy theory craziness or some sort of anarchy.  This doesn't make sense.  This is no different then a "conspiracy nut" who thinks that every single thing is a conspiracy.  Different sides of the same coin.  Either of these cases are ones in which the person is not being objective and if you can't be objective, you're not really going to find out the truth.  It's the same as science: if you're only hoping for one conclusion in an experiment then you are likely to either ignore any result that does not fit your expectations or you're likely to steer the variables in the direction of your bias.  It's just bad science.

Here is what I hope people will do: read it anyway.  Even if you think something is ridiculous or the opinion of some nut-job, read it/watch it anyway.  And don't discount everything that is not the 'norm' just because you disagree with some things that are not popular opinion.  Opening yourself up to all view points makes for a much stronger knowledge base to go on.  Don't stop learning.  Be careful not to discount something just because it seems outrageous.  Outrageous things do happen.  Look at our history and you can plainly see that.  I believe it was Galileo who was tried by the Inquisition, found "vehemently suspect of heresy," forced to recant, and spent the rest of his life under house arrest for suggesting that the earth was not the center of the universe.  This is just a quick example but you get my drift.

And with that 'lecture' I will leave you with this bit of truth from an oldie but a goodie:





Okay and maybe a little George Carlin for good measure ;o)




Love M

Too Tired To Title

I. am. exhausted.

I totally lost it this weekend - something in me decided I didn't wanna deal with the pain I was going through (being reject #539 'er something) and so I didn't: instead, I pulled an old favourite and got myself and nice and wasted at around three in the afternoon on Saturday.  Being drunk and angry just feels so much better than sober and pathetic and in too much pain to be conscious.  I was quite trashed and decided I had to get out of the apartment, so, feeling nice and self-destructive, I narrowed my options and decided to head to Corktown to see Randy and Mr. Lahey (from the Trailer Park Boys).  So I wobbled over there, flask full of whiskey hidden in my purse (and bottle of Ativan just in case?) and actually had a pretty good time - the show was funny and as drunk as I was, I remember some of it - even standing with the rest of the patrons to sing 'Oh, Canada' after the 'boys' poked fun at those silly people requesting the lyric change (it's not hard to feel at least a little patriotic after those beautiful Olympic games).

Anyway, after that a few guys I know from a band got up and played a set with a new band they're in (Radio Free Universe: members include fellas from Bombshell and the guy from King Clansey) so that was okay.  Then closing time.  That's where things got ridiculous.

Some dude asked if he could share the cab with me cause he lives just a few blocks from where I'm going so I said sure why not.  That was a really stupid move apparently because all he did was get out of the cab at the same place as me and followed me into my fucking apartment building.  So I was fucking stuck in my apartment lobby with this really creepy guy who wanted to come to my apartment with me and kept calling me a bitch cause I was saying 'no, leave' meanwhile trying to grope and kiss me.  Then he drags me on the elevator! so I obviously refused to press any buttons cause I didn't want him knowing where I live (obviously).  After I don't know how long (and after flashing me in said elevator) he got fed up with the elevator business and tried pulling me into a stairwell.  But as wasted as I was, I was able to fight (thank gods).  Oh did I mention he grabbed my keys from me and wouldn't give them back?

Finally after about an hour of this torture he left and I booted my ass up to my apartment and locked the doors.

The next day was a hang-over and that same yuckiness that was intolerable the day before, except this time no drinky poo (as Mr. Lahey would put it).  I slept a good chunk of it away, then later on dealt with some unpleasantness and shed the damn tears I was trying so hard to avoid in the first place.  What a train wreck.  I'm pretty sure anyone talking to me lately thinks I'm a nut bag unless of course you already know me, then you already know I'm a nut bag.  Well, at least I learn from it all, that's something.

So after little to no sleep last night I had to get up early for an assessment to get into the eating disorders clinic here in Hamilton.  I pressed snooze at least ten times and felt like pure shit.  The assessment consisted of me sitting in this psychiatrist lady's office while she asked me about everything from my childhood to my suicidal tendencies and everything in between for about two and a half hours.  By the time we were done, I was completely drained and a little depressed because I had just talked about my life for two and a half hours and it was all really shitty stuff so it made me feel like I've had a really negative life.

As much as my apartment needs to be cleaned and that article needs to be written for Buttercup, there was no way.  I slept pretty much all day and it was very much needed.  And this is a big chunk of why I. am. exhausted.  No wonder it feels alien when I tell people my age cause I sure feel like I've been stuck at 13 forever.  I am so jealous of people who know how to live and people who know how not to fuck shit up and people who are reading this blog feeling sorry for me because they can't imagine being so miserably stupid.  And now I'm starting to make myself sick with my whining so I'll move on.

I do have some positive things to talk about.  I got a guitar!  Sean brought it over about a half hour ago and I've decided to relearn.  Yay!  Maybe when I'm 40 I'll be a rock star ;o)  I don't know how to read music - I learn by watching and listening because of course I like to do things the hard way.  I used to know so many freaking songs - I knew almost every Hole song too!  Damnit I wish I could remember.

What else, I needs monies.  I'm usually good with monies but I'm so tight this month and it's a really bad month to be broke cause I have two writer's meetings and a few shows I just have to go to.  Thursday I'm heading to 'This Ain't Hollywood'  to see '13 Bags of Dick' and 'Allysa In The Apple Tree.'  On the 20th I'm going to see 'Steel Mountie' at 'Bread And Roses.'   'Rackula' is having a CD release at the 'Casbah' on the 27th and I think that's it (I hope so cause I have no money! Please donate - I will show you my bra strap [no, I am not kidding]).  I need to do my damn taxes.

Alright, here's hoping for better days ahead.

xoxoxo




Love M

It's All Over, Baby Blue

Does this make sense?  I'm antisocial yet lonely all at the same time - it's an oxymoron, I don't understand.  Which brings me to my new year's eve: I assumed I would be spending the night right here with George and the other lonely internet people but was asked by Jodie to hang out.  I deliberated and though I felt that staying here and not "doing anything" would be my best option since I can often feel my sadness/loneliness more acutely when I'm around others (depending on the situations and people) but I decided to fight the urge to avoid.  As much as it can be extremely difficult for someone to get up and go somewhere/do something social when they're feeling down, it usually ends up being a good idea.  So this is why I was "smart" and decided to just go for it.

This turned out to be one of those times where staying in alone would have been the better plan - how was I supposed to know?  So that was annoying.  Although who knows, perhaps I would have gotten myself all sad if I'd stayed in.  The thing is, I've become really good at distracting myself from dwelling on unpleasant emotions, which is why I either wanted to stay home alone, or go somewhere where there were a lot of people and mayhem for a different kind of distraction, or of course, have someone come over and sweep me off my feet so to speak (yes I like to fantasize).

So that was that.  I got through it.  And I quite literally slept straight through January 1st - just woke up around 10pm.

Just in case you're wondering, the reason I'm all melodramatic about the holidays/new year's eve is because it is a time to spend with your loved ones.  Not only do I not have many people in my life, but those I care about most are not with me, but with others.  Therefore the loneliness is exaggerated and who the hell wants that?  But it's done now - let's move on, shall we?

I don't really do new year's resolutions because if I'm going to make a resolution, I don't need to wait until the beginning of the year - that's what Mondays are for ;o)  Obviously I need to work on relationships and lack there of and of course my health, which fucking sucks and drives me crazy and I wish I could trade this body in for a fresh healthy one damnit.  Not that I hate my body, but that I hate how malfunctioned it is.  As for hating my body, I'm pretty sure I've got BDD but I'm hoping some stuff I'm doing is gonna help that.  The brain is a crazy/powerful mother fucker.

Anyway, there's always stuff to work on - that's what we do in life, we grow and then we die and hopefully we enjoy the process.

In other news, I just found out that I have been wearing the wrong bra size for almost a decade, which explains a lot - wtf.  So I'm actually a DD or E cup, NOT a D cup.  Damnit.  Time to get some new bras.  Time to get all new clothes actually, since my lovely cat George thinks it hilarious to cover all my clothing in his white fur so that I can never get a date and become an old, lonely cat lady.  I swear to god he has some magical fur that makes it impossible to remove!  He's lucky I love him.

Enough rambling for now, I'll be back when I have something good to say.


Love M.

P.S. The new issue of Buttercup is here - join, read, socialize, and love it.  New articles added daily.

Christmas Morning

Thank you Jeeesus for being boooooorn."



Yeah, right. I'm listening to South Park Christmas songs to brighten my mood.  I don't think people should be sad on Christmas if they're not dwelling on sad things and trying to focus on the good things - it doesn't seem fair - but for some reason, here I am, feeling like shit (though a lot less shitty than I did earlier).  I started feeling down the day before Christmas eve and it has progressed from there.  I guess it's a bit inevitable - I'm lonely so I'm going to feel it a hell of a lot more now than I would on any other day of the year.  I know it's really just another day, but to be realistic, it's not - you know it's not.  It's a time to spend with your loved ones: it stopped being a religious thing for most people a loong time ago.  You can try to think of it as any other day but trust me, I've tried that one, it's almost impossible. I can even hear my neighbour enjoying her loved one right now.

I do have one very special thing to look forward to today, and that's my fourteen month old niece, Amelie.  I'm going to try to focus all of my attention on her, after all, it should be about the young ones - it's a magical time for them, especially before they realize they want STUFF.  I'm pretty annoyed that my camera won't work so I can't take any pictures of her, but hopefully one of my brothers will.  I'm also really looking forward to Don coming over later.

I just need to get through to January 2nd and I'll be alright.  New years eve will be hard, but who knows, maybe I'll have someone special to spend it with next year - gotta stay positive right?  I'm looking forward to writing 2010 rather than 2009 - yes, I am a nerd, we know that.

Ways I have tried to cheer myself up today: singing, putting on make-up, watching Bush say dumb things on YouTube, came three times, did a half smile, and listened to South Park Christmas songs.  See?  I try, lol.  Emotional disregulation sucks.  Feeling incredibly lonely sucks.  Loving people way more than they could possibly love me back - well, that doesn't suck in theory, but it does when you're not very high up on anyone's list of people to care about, such is my case.  Being a downer and writing depressing things on my blog sucks.  Okay, I got that out of my system.  Oh, I forgot to mention that I am also PMSing.

Remember kids, you can suck all the dick you want and still be virgin.





Love M.

Ladies Don't Show Anger

Hmmm. Sometimes, when I'm doing well, I feel as if it's only a matter of time before sadness catches up and contains me. I'm not being emo, I'm just saying, I'm doing okay right now, on the right track it seems, but I feel so fragile - afraid of the next trigger - I don't know how to overcome such intensity.

Maybe I'm not supposed to fight it? Maybe if I accept it as part of my experience that sometimes I'm going to get really fucking sad and I should just take from it what I can. That sounds fucked up though. Too many questions, not enough answers...

The man I love is with another woman and I am reminded of that regularly because he's my best friend and I've chosen to stick it out with him. That's like living with a constant raw wound. It does get easier to cope, but when the pain comes, it still feels as fresh as it did when it began. But I've chosen that sacrifice. Accepted one pain rather than another. I don't recommend it. But I don't regret it either.

It will be okay though, somehow. I just hope she realizes how lucky she is.

And I'm filled with anger and resentment. I realized this not long ago, how pissed off I am in general. I've never been an angry person, but I am filled with it now. I'm angry at the people (the men in particular) who have treated me disrespectfully. I'm especially angry at myself for allowing it, even inviting it, unknowingly.

That won't be happening anymore. My eyes have been opened. Find yourself another doormat/victim.

Apparently, it's sort of good that I'm angry: it's given me the motivation and desire to start pushing/fighting back.

But the resentment that comes with the anger? What do I do with that?

If I allowed you to treat me a certain way and I now decide that was wrong and I won't play that role with you anymore, does the relationship end? Or does it continue in a new direction? And how can it continue in a new direction when I still feel so much resentment toward you? And how can I be so resentful toward you when I played a part in it too?

You are choosing the pursuit of a brand new love interest who happens to be my best girlfriend. If what we did have together had been healthy, this is still pretty fucked up territory - I'm thinking that me being bothered by this is quite called for.

Let me think for a minute: If I had something with a guy and decided (without so much as a word) that I wanted to hook up with his best friend instead, would the guy be upset? Well, unless he had absolutely no respect for me in the first place, he would be quite perplexed.

I think I'm angry right now and I think I'm going to say, in my anger, that is not cool.

There is a reason the resentment keeps popping back up, no matter what I do, it comes back, and I think it's for the simple reason that I have been fucked over. Makes sense?

I also have a hard time dealing with the knowledge that what I thought was a solid friendship turned out to be something not so real.

How do I begin to come to terms with it? The only thing I know is that after someone hurts you over and over, you should really stop giving them the opportunity.

I want my friends to be happy. But I also want my friends to be my friends and not expect me to be okay with things that no one but the Buddha himself would be okay with. I don't even fully know what I'm saying, but I'm saying it lol.

I feel like it's only a matter of time before people get sick of my emotional incoherency and leave me so they can be happy... wtf does that mean?

Having to second guess yourself all the time really makes it difficult to gain confidence ya know.

But I'm not gonna end this entry on a sullen note cause I'm not all tears and fears - I just tend to write more when I'm down.

I'm going through a ginormous learning/growth period and good things seem to be happening. Well, a lot of these good things are disguised as bad things, but I can recognize them for what they are.

I just keep having to remind myself to calm down and take things moment to moment, otherwise I'll lose my way in a big tangle of my own thinking. Mindfulness.

I am ever humbled by the power of the brain - I think the trick is to work with it, not try to take total control of it, if that makes any sense.

So grateful for my friends,

Love M

Impermanence

I keep trying to write about things that are going on in my life but it's just not happening. I'm just feeling too emotionally crazy right now to talk about anything mundane.

I've been watching a very long documentary, 'Walking With Dinosaurs' or something like that and it is extremely humbling and for some reason that makes me feel better.

Life on Earth began hundreds of millions of years ago. Since then, species have lived, evolved, strived, struggled, and died out. Even the dinosaurs, for example, who reined for a few million years... poof, gone.

Also since the beginning of life on this planet, the Earth has undergone so many major changes that have effected whether a species lives on or dies out. Major, MAJOR shifts in weather... millions of years of ideal tropical weather to millions of years of extreme cold and ice.

Extinction has been a matter of fact throughout history - no species is exempt from it. There are so many species today that it happens a lot more often then we're even aware of.

All it took was a comet hitting the Earth to wipe out the dinosaurs: they were just fine until that happened.

But of course, that could never happen to us, right?

It's not like, history repeats itself, or life works in cycles...

Anyway, the point I'm trying to make here, is that we humans have been here about a hundred thousand years or so. We're an arrogant creature who tends to believe we'll always be around, that nothing so horrible could happen in our lifetimes, that nothing like that is bound to happen for millions of years in the future, yada yada yada.

But logically, we should know without much doubt, that our fate is indeed, extinction. There's no reason it can't happen today as easily as it could happen in ten million years. We don't know. The earth will continue to change and go through cycles that inevitably change the climate and weather patterns - thus effecting all living things, from vegetation to humanity.

I'm sitting here, writing this at the bottom of what was once a very large, deep lake. Life if weird, and in its weirdness is awesome, uncontrollable, impermanent, and a never ending source of our curiousity.

It is by luck/fate that humans developed these large brains, giving us the ability to rise to the top of the food chain using technology rather than our own physical devices. We are unique in this way.

But I believe it's this uniqueness that allows us to be so arrogant and believe our species is so special as to be the only one in history to ever avoid the forces of nature and be exempt from extinction.

It's the same arrogance that allows us to believe life doesn't exist anywhere in the universe but here on earth, even though the universe is so ginormous that I don't think there's even a word suitable enough to describe how large it really is (and it never stops expanding).

We are smart, that's for sure. And there's a reason we evolved to be what we are. I won't pretend to know what that reason is, but I do believe everything happens for a reason.

What I don't believe, is that the earth is quite finished with us yet... we try to defeat nature, but we never do, not permanently anyway.

So, our species has been around for about a hundred thousand years. And only at the tail of hundreds of millions of years of life on the planet. Our existence is just a small fraction of history. We're pretty new to the game and there's no telling how long we'll be around.

And like I said, that is very humbling, and for some reason, makes me happy. Kinda takes the pressure off in a way, doesn't it?

Following this theme of impermanence, I watched a video earlier tonight (it came up in my feed reader) on the same subject, aptly titled Impermanence. It's a talk given by a monk on the subject of the Buddhist philosophy that nothing is permanent, everything is always changing.

I needed to hear it at this time. Emotions shift poles. Bodies live and die. The current changes. The mountain erodes. Nothing is permanent but our true selves. This too shall pass. I am not my body or my mind, I only have them to use as I see fit.

More peacefully humbling truths.
A lot for one day, but then again, good lessons to learn on days like this where all I feel like doing is lying in bed because I'm so depressed.


-Love Marylin.

Coming Out Of Hiding

I went to the park today. I probably wouldn't have gone to the park if I hadn't promised my therapist I would. Ya see she's trying to help me have a better quality of life so that the work the meds are doing aren't going to waste. She wants me to take advantage of any energy and motivation I'm feeling, which is easier said than done.

She made me choose something extremely simple to do but it had to be something that I actually wanted to do and would benefit from, otherwise I would be overwhelmed and even if I achieved the goal, would likely not stick to it in the long term.

It's a really weird therapy process that I have never heard of, yet it's so simple and makes so much sense. It takes into account how hard it is for people to take action in their lives in whatever way necessary when they're so used to hiding away in their apartment, no longer capable of maintaining any real schedule, thus being overwhelmed by the simplest of tasks... not even the task itself, just the idea of it: it has to be done - it seems monstrous when it's really very small and simple. If I have to do two things in one day? Forget about it! That becomes so overwhelming that I usually end up not doing either thing... there may be no logic in it, but it feels as real as the air we're breathing.

My existence consists of spending the day and night in my one bedroom apartment, mostly doing something on the computer. Sometimes I have to clean. Sometimes I have to shower. Sometimes I have to cook! Sometimes I have to run errands (omg).

I go out to socialize occasionally, but not much, and it's usually places where I'm already comfortable being like a friend's place, or my writer's meetings.

(the phone is ringing - I'm too scared to answer it because I don't know who it is). I hate talking on the phone and only do so when absolutely necessary, so I'm sure that has some effect on my social interaction.

I've been living like this (well actually I'm doing a lot better than I was) for years now... most of my twenties have been a losing battle.

So to the people who are reading this and wondering why I don't just CHANGE already, it is because it's all I know. I have mental illness, it makes me act and react and feel in ways that are often completely void of logic. It is quite possible that if I had gotten the proper help years ago, I would be living a very different life right now... but that's not the way life works... things tend to happen when they're meant to happen.

What the hell was this blog post about again?

Right, I went to the park.

And for reasons I cannot explain, I was sick to my stomach with anxiety at the thought of actually GOING to the park. I have no idea why. That kinda made me realize just how serious this is: if walking two blocks up the street to the park and sitting at a bench journaling for a half hour makes me that anxious and afraid, I must really have a problem because I did not anticipate that happening. Why would I? I'm not agoraphobic and I'm usually fine going out by myself when I feel like it... so what gives?

And then I got to the park and I seriously felt like people were laughing at me. No logic.

I found a picnic bench and proceeded to journal. I journaled about what I was thinking about the whole going to the park thing. The longer I sat there, the more relaxing and enjoyable the experience was. I kept trying not to look up from my journal because I didn't want to see anyone looking at me (wtf) but when I did, I noticed a girl had sat down at another bench by herself to read a book.

I tried not to look at her because I didn't want people to look at me so I thought I'd give her the same courtesy.

So I laughed at myself for being such an idiot and continued my journaling.

I stayed for fourty five minutes and would have stayed longer if it hadn't been so chilly (I despise cold!).

The walk home was better, except I thought this creepy looking man was following me so that was kinda scary, but I was just being paranoid o_O

So I don't know what any of this means, it's too big for me to try to wrap my mind around right now, too overwhelming.

I'm being guided by a very capable therapist toward a better quality of life and I believe if she sticks with me, it just might work!
But at the same time I'm still terrified. I'm still afraid to set any goals right now - if I make something a goal, I will be letting myself down for the millionth time if I fail. If it's not a goal and I fail, it's not as big a deal. It's stupid, but that's where I am right now.

Except for this going to the park business that I was tricked into doing ;) I'm supposed to do it two times this week and I'm afraid I won't be able to go a second time because it's supposed to rain all the way till Saturday. Or maybe I'm more relieved than scared.

Whatever.

I have a lot more to talk about but I'll have to do it in another post. More literary fun, film festival fun, stupid people doing stupid things, and creepy dates.


-Love Marylin

Planning For My Thirties

April is here: month four - a quarter of the year passed.

This year was to be the year of 'Marylin' - the year where I stopped moaning and actually acted on life. Because when last new year's came around and the question of "what are your resolutions for 2009?" started popping up, I realized that the resolutions I had were the exact same resolutions (for the most part) I'd had every year for pretty much a decade.

I am twenty seven years old. I cannot go into my thirties with the same energy as I've been spending in my twenties. I just can't. I know I wasted a fucking decade - I can't do it again.

It's not that I've done nothing, it's that I've done a very small fraction of what I have the potential and drive to do/achieve. I've only lived a small fraction of the life I've wanted to live.

Over these years I have made some progress. I've realized a lot of the limitations I was fighting against were not as controllable as I thought. Once I stopped fighting certain things, so much stress and sadness was taken away.

All my life I've suffered from sleeping problems, which have caused a lot of problems for me regarding school, work, appointments, and even socially.

I've strived all these years to take control of my sleep patterns, thinking I just wasn't trying hard enough.

Finally, a few years ago I had an over-night sleep study done that revealed I had what's called Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder.

The doctor explained to me that trying to fight it is fruitless because it is a neurological problem, it's just the way my brain works, and that I should try to work with it if I want to be happy. One of the best things for someone with DSPD is to do a job where you can set your own hours, like writing, for example.

Great! I thought. I am a writer! This just gives me another reason to justify writing for a living.

So after this new information was made known to me, I slowly stopped fighting against the sleep issues and that has made a world of difference. I don't feel guilty or stressed out anymore about it. This has made me a happier person in general.

Ask me how my writing career is going.

Well, just take a look at my ISBN collection and that should answer your question.

Isn't it funny what excuses we can make for our lack of productivity? Mmmhmmm.

Another obstacle that came about right when my twenties started was being "disabled."

Yes, I was about twenty when I couldn't take the pain and fatigue anymore. That's when they diagnosed me with the osteoarthritis and the fibromyalgia.

I can't even begin to talk about how weird that is/was for me. I've never been a very active person, so it left everyone baffled as to why I would get osteoarthritis, and so young too. I got the fucker all over the body too. The fibro is a little more understandable, my mum has that too, but still, at twenty?

Suffice it to say, these have factored into my life substantially. It is quite hard for me to walk very far, let alone do much rigorous exercise. It makes me an outsider to my peers, who sometimes don't quite understand why we can't take that twenty minute walk to "insert place." It's embarrassing, especially because I've never been very vocal about my issues, so it just makes me look really lazy to people, since you can't see my disabilities just by looking at me.

It's also hindered my ability to lose weight. Not only is exercise difficult, but the fibro effects your metabolism and also includes depression as a side effect, which I already suffer from. (But I'll get to the weight and the depression as well.)

I don't feel sorry for myself about my physical disabilities. I'm okay with adjusting my life because of them. I just still can't bring myself to accept that I can't exercise the way other people can and I know my refusal to accept this is only because of my desire to lose weight and be healthy.

I've finally accepted that I can't be as active as most of my peers, and I've been working on being more vocal about it, but I still have shame, and I hate that I have that shame, hence more shame. I don't want to be a pain in the ass ya know?

Anyway, I have come to a place where all those feelings of shame and of trying to fight the illnesses have lessened a great deal, which means, again, that I am a happier person with a lot less stress.

Then there is the mental catastrophe to talk about.

I honestly think I had depression as a child when I look back, but there's no way to know. What I do know is that when I hit my early teens, I had it. I had really bad depression and I didn't know it was depression, I just thought I was a really sensitive person lol. A misunderstood teen.

I didn't realize I might have a problem till I was nineteen, living in a bachelor apartment that I'd rented with no employment to speak of, where I spent the majority of my time filling binders full of get-rich-quick ideas and reading tarot cards over the phone for Miss Cleo (without payment).

If you don't remember Miss Cleo, let me refresh your memory:



Three months later I found myself unable to get up from my futon because i was "inexplicably" paralyzed with depression. But this was before I started hallucinating and being afraid to go outside...

The worst part of it was that my entire family suffers from a cornucopia of lovely mental illnesses and not once did anyone in my family suggest that I might also be afflicted - they all just thought I was the "normal" one. The one who would actually go somewhere in life.

Anyway, so I sought help and was diagnosed with bipolar and anxiety disorders. The little pink pill (paxil) they gave me made me feel better for about a year, but when it stopped working, things were a lot worse and this coincided with the worsening (and discovering) of my physical issues.

Since the initial diagnoses, I'd been seeking proper help in the form of therapy to no avail, and ended up being switched to effexor for a while (this made me worse), and then to celexa (which helped a lot and which I still take now) by a family doctor who I all but reported for malpractice for so many reasons.

I was monitoring my own meds and recieving zero therapy due to long waiting lists and a bitch of an ex-roommate who failed to deliver a very important phone message to me.

It wasn't until late last year that my name finally reached the top of a waiting list and I got myself a proper therapist, working under a psychiatrist.

The official diagnoses was Borderline Personality Disorder (which I knew) and they are keeping an eye out for signs of bipolar, which is tricky because you can have both, but it's hard to tell since people with BPD usually exhibit a lot of similar traits as people with Bipolar. Either way, I'm sick in the noggin'.

The good news is I'm finally getting help. There's a program that people with BDP can go through called Dialectic Behavoural Therapy that I'm on the waiting list for. This is supposed to help drastically with my issues and help me deal with things in my life.

As for what I can do to actually fight my mental issues, I 'm really not sure. Trying to fight them in the past, as if they weren't a reality, usually proved to create more guilt and so the cycle goes. I've learned that if I don't take my illnesses into consideration, it will lead to unnecessary disappointment.

The problem is that until I do what I need to do/learn what I need to learn therapy wise, I keep going through the same mental issues as always, and as always, they take me two steps backwards. It's always a matter of keeping my head above the water, and after so many years, that is very tiring and makes it more and more tempting to just let go, to give in, to drown.

My mental illness is the strongest force in my life - it paralyzes me and I can never get used to it, because if I did, it would mean being satisfied with not improving myself or my situation.

This is the obstacle in my life that fuels the other obstacles, the obstacle that prevents the other obstacles from being removed.

If the plant continues to grow, it's kind of hard to prevent the leaves from coming back, season after season.

I'm overweight because I was so depressed that I didn't care. I'm still overweight because I'm still depressed and I use food as a drug because I don't know how to manage my emotions properly. I'm still overweight because I have osteoarthritis and fibromyalgia, which fuck up my physical activity and metabolism.

I'm overweight, which makes the physical disabilities worse, because my poor joints have to carry all that extra weight, which makes physical activity even harder, which makes losing weight even harder.

I'm overweight, which makes me depressed because I'm not happy with my body, which has given me a low self-esteem, which has effected my social life, which has made me more depressed and withdrawn, which has made me want to eat more...

It's all mental though. My own mind has created my own misery and what will happen if I can't change my mind? I wish it was more of a choice. I wish I could just buck-up and get on with life. But it's more complicated then that. I can buck-up, but it's only a matter of time before it catches up with me again and the fall is always so hard.

I feel like a whiny baby complaining. But this is my reality. I wish I were just a whiny baby, so someone reading this could slap me in the face and show me my own stupidity, and then I could move on.

So this is my reality.

I have osteoarthritis and fibromyalgia that I receive disability for because I can't work. I have this delayed sleep phase disorder that prevents me from keeping a normal schedule, which is okay, because I don't work anyway. I don't work, which allows me the opportunity to actually write and follow my dream of being a successful writer.

All of this seems to work itself out... it almost seems like the universe planned it that way for a reason.

But my reality includes this debilitating mental illness, which seems to be THE obstacle standing in my way. It scares the shit out of me to think that I'll be this stagnant and unable to escape when I'm thirty seven. I can't deal with that, I have way too much potential for that to happen.

They're playing with meds (carefully) and I'm seeing a really good therapist on a regular basis. I should be getting into the DBT program thingy quite soon according to her, at which time I'll still be seeing her.

Aside from trying again and again and not giving up, I'm really counting on the program and the therapy to give me a lot of what I need to improve the way I live my life.

And it will be completed before I turn thirty.

Something else I'm starting to consider is gastric bypass surgery. I've obviously considered it many times before, but was always against it because it's unnatural.

But now the pros are really beginning to out-weight the cons: this surgery would make me lose weight, which would take stress off my joints, which would allow me to be more active, which would improve my overall health and lessen my general pain, which would make me more generally happy. I would not be so disgusted with my body, which would make me feel more confident, which would give me higher self-esteem, which would make me happier and improve my social life, which would make me happier as well.

It would be a huge thing to not have to worry about, which would free up so much energy. It would drastically effect my mental state and level of self-love.

I'm not saying that losing weight would solve my problems. I'm naive but not that naive. I just know that it would be a gigantic step toward improving my life.

The only concern I have is that getting such a surgery would not change my eating behaviours in itself, so I would definitely need to get help on that part of the deal.

So those are two gigantic things that will be happening before the big 3-0 (not sure about the surgery yet though).

I'm so tired right now that the usual momentum I'd have for "trying again, but this time better" is not showing itself. The thought of listing all of the things I need/want to accomplish is so overwhelming that I think it's best if I just try to keep it simple until I'm more capable of pondering more. Even the simple things are making my heart rate a little jumpy.

1. Take good care of myself.

That's my first job. I'll go from there.

I'm actually not done writing this entry, but my eyes are getting a lil' tired so I'll end it for now.

If you've read all this, well, you're a trooper! Thanks :)


Love Marylin.