Before you leap.....

On Friday, my Bestie in the whole entire world had a birthday. My original plan was to wake up at the crack of dawn, send her a birthday text and then leave her a voice message later. Well I didn't get up at the crack of dawn, so the birthday text message didn't happen. The whole while I am speeding to work, I have this nagging feeling that I am forgetting something. I don't remember what it is until a coworker mentions the date and that she had to call her sister. I did a silent curse and prayer and I put it in my mental POD (Planner of the Day) to call my bestie.

So things happened and it wasn't until later that day that I decided to try to call her and just speak with her. Although she is my bestie, we don't spend a lot of time on the phone together. I blame her and in my own unconventional way tell her that it's her fault that we spend most of the phone time arguing; the truth is I have low social skills (like Austic level) and telephone conversing is a lot of work for me. Anyway, I make the phone call and she doesn't answer. I am slightly crushed, but to make up for it, I decide to sing her a birthday song. I had a prearranged song ready in my head, but when I opened my mouth something else came out. So I went with the flow. It was 30 secs of "American Idol" reject singing, but it was original.

But here is the kicker! The next morning I stumble out of bed around 7:30a. I see my cell phone flashing. There is a waiting text message. I open the text and it is from my bestie. I will not repeat the language she used, but it was something along the lines of "You female dog, you forgot my birthday! You garden tool!" Now I do forget some things, but usually when I have reminded myself all day to do one thing, I usually do it. So I calmly text her back that I left her a voice message the night before. Then an hour later I receive a telephone call that she received a new cell phone and she didn't know she had a voice message. By the way, I work in a correctional facility and I know a lie when I hear one. This from the woman that read all she could on the new Blackberry phone so that she could convince her husband that she "needed" it for work and home and it would make their lives so much easier and cut down on costs.

Anyway, after the exchange of apologies, we went back to what we know and continued in our normal bestie fashion. She quizzed me like I was the wayward child at college and I answered like the spoiled overindulged child that she wants me to be. So I think our roles are pretty much defined.

So the lesson learned here is before you accuse anyone of NOT doing something, maybe you should push some buttons on your fancy new phone and check your voice messages!

Speaking Hypothetically

Why do we ask people hypothetical questions? We already know the answer and we already know it's us, so what is the point? For example, "Hypothetically speaking if a woman lets a married man digitally penetrate her vagina with his fingers, is that considered cheating?" We all know the answer to this one, yet we ask and hope that someone will tell us that our skewed moral compass is actually straight. If I think you are wrong, then I will tell you you are wrong. Friend or not, you have to be ready to get the truth as I see it. Sugar coating is for pastries, not truth.

Creating Chaos

So the other day as I was driving home, I thought about something that someone told me. I was complaining about all of the chaos and drama at work and how I get named in it. He said, my friend and ex-coworker, that I sometimes create some of the drama in my life. I couldn't deny it. I do sometimes create drama. There are times I feel like a female Zeus--I created people and do things for my own amusement. I often times feel as if the people I encounter are there for my enjoyment. It's as if I am royalty of the world and the people in it are all my court jesters. Is that a bad thing; I don't think so.

So I have stepped outside of the world of the gods and am now just a participant. It's kind of boring. The alternative is to have my name put into everything even though I had nothing to do with it. Like those historical Roman gods, I have no control over my minions. DAMN!

So now I have to settle for only creating personal chaos with my close knit group of friends. I guess that will have to suffice.

Chaotic Work, Chaotic Love

I have learned that sometimes the trade off is worse than what was replaced. I traded service at one agency for service at another agency. Although my trade-off for the week kept me out of harm's way, the replacement played havoc with my sweet life. Thus far, I have lived a work life of utter luxury and selfishness. This week took that life away. It was horrible! I've only been at this for 2 days (at the time this blog was originally written). Already my chakras are out of wack!

After 2 days I had plenty to complain about, although most of it had to do with the disruption of my leisure work life. Luckily, I was able to get a romance novel to take off the edge. I've read this particular novel before, but this second reading is still as exceptional at the 1st time.

I have known for years that my early life introduction to naughty romance novels has greatly and heavily my beliefs on romance, love and relationships. For years I refused to read romance novels. I believed they were symbols of disillusionment. I believed they perpetrated the myths that women were either Madonnas or whores, needed to be saved by strong, virile, wealthy men. It also reinforced the ever present theory of the ultimate desire of white women. Historical romance novels of Blacks always start during the wild west era and involve the Klan. Who wants that constant reminder?

So I spend my mornings and days listening to someone that is more unsure of himself than a 15 year old boy on the cusp of manhood and my nights reading about a life that I could never be a part of and not really wanting to be a part of. I often wonder to myself if the absence of a romance novel in a female's life leads her to inappropriate relationships? For all the entertainment of a romance novel, they also serve as a love guide. True love is always spelled out in the basic manners: the love interest is always gallant, never abusive, always afraid of love for some crazy reason, a reformed male whore, and always willing to overlook the flaws of his woman love because of his undying love. Rules to live and incidentally love by.

Well the week ended and I survived the week of boredom and training chaos. The romance novel ended, but another was taken up in it's place. One day I will get back to serious reading and learn something that is pertinent to my career, but I am in no hurry.

In the Beginning.....

When I was growing up, I learned that eating solved everything. If there was a death, we ate. If there was a wedding, we ate. If someone got out of jail/prison, we ate. If someone was hurt, we ate. No matter what the topic, subject, or life altering event, we ate.

I took that lesson and used it for everything that happened in my life. If I'm happy, I eat. If I'm sad, I eat. If I'm angry, I eat. If I'm depressed, I eat. I weigh 175, I eat to celebrate the weight loss. I weigh 315, I eat to celebrate the weight gain and the depression, guilt and shame I feel. Food is all important to me and my family.

When I get together with my older cousin, it's usually around something to do with food. We either go out to eat (she didn't get the cooking lessons that I did) or there is a feast at her house. When I first walk in the door, the first thing she asks me is if I'm hungry or if I would like anything to eat. When we go out and talk about family (I'm always the last to know anything in my family), we are eating. We do not discuss family without food around. We might discuss academics or her son's inappropriate behaviors, but never our family, without food. It always starts off by her making a comment of how much weight she has gained in the last few months. I either shrug and tell myself that's not a jab at my own routundness or I ask if she's knocked up. NO matter what the answer, we eat. We discuss that when she was in college in 1995, she weighed 50 pounds less, but some how marriage and eating out all the time (those damn cooking lessons) have added girth. We also discuss the horrid detail that her wedding dress was a size 16 and not a 8; a 12 would have been acceptable, but she couldn't get the dress past her shoulders.

So as we eat pizza, chicken, pasta, cinnamon rolls, cookies, chips, cake, pie, ice cream and guzzle down vitamin water and sodas, we discuss our family. What we never discuss is that my cousin and I are polar opposites of each other, but also the same. She's always been the thin athletic one and I've been the fat smart one. She was highly popular, I was highly smart. She got an athletic scholarship to college, I took out student loans because smart kids are a dime a dozen. She began working in the school system, I began working in the prison. She had a son, I got a bachelors degree. She got married to a wonderful man that everyone in the family loves and I got a masters degree. She's now pregnant with her second child and worried about how late life pregnancy will effect her waistline and I'm wondering when I can quit my job and get my doctorate. We are the same because we came from the same gene pool and inherited or learned that food and weight are extremely important.

I learned that no one wants a fat girlfriend unless it's winter and she learned that a man doesn't marry a woman that's fat. Apparently how much a man loves his wife is dependent directly on her size. I guess deep down inside I believe this. I mean my granny was a big woman, still is, but her and my grandfather were divorced. My mom is a big woman and last I heard still single. My cousin father, my mom's older brother, was married to my aunt, who also obsessed about her weight. I guess she never got to the right size because he cheated on her throughout the marriage (which still continues, so he's still probably cheating).

I know if my cousin read this blog, she would be more outraged that I put into actual English words that my mother's older brother, my uncle, her father, was not a good husband. The fact that we share these learned behaviors pertaining to love, food and body image would not phase her. While she is still trying to hold on to a body that was 15 years ago, I'm trying to find the body that I have now.

I can't keep waiting for food to save me from the inevitable--LIFE! I'm learning to distinguish real hunger from placating, cover up hunger. Do I want to eat because I'm hungry or because I'm stuffing my feelings down my throat? I have to ask myself this question every day, all day. What if it's both? you may ask. I doubt it will ever be both for me. When I'm truly hungry and ignore it, after about 30 minutes, I begin to feel physically sick and my body starts to shake. My body hates to be sick, so I have to make sure that doesn't happen. So when I'm at work and those ingrates piss me off and I just want to knash down on a cinnamon roll or a bear claw, I have to ask to I want something soft, sweet and slightly squishy because my feelings are hard, coarse and sour? Most people don't have to go through life this way, but I realize I do.

As my cousin worries about her late life pregnancy, I worry about her late life worries. I wonder how many diets she will attempt to get her pre-late life baby body back. I wonder how much time that will take in the space of her life. I think I have spent enough of my 34 years on this Earth obsessing if someone could love me even though I have six rolls on each of my sides and my back fat ripples and jiggles over my bra strap. Like I ask my clients, how can you ask anyone to love you if you don't love yourself, truly and honestly?

So now that I've sorted out the beginning, I am ready to tackle the middle, the meat (no pun intended) of the story, the place where it all really begins. Once again in to the mix......

Hopeless

So my duties at work have changed. At first I was excited because I would be doing some group counseling and I enjoy counseling. I was hoping the people BS would not be so evident this time around. Unfortunately I was mistaken. I have to keep reminding myself that I am doing this to get my therapy hours and because I like working with the population. I enjoy my job and I enjoy my clients. What I don't enjoy are people that speak in foreign languages, such as politic-ease or kiss my ass-ease or brown nose-ease. I don't quite understand those languages, so it's hard for me to pay attention and focus when those people speak those foreign languages. When did a job, a career, become more about different work place factions and not about your job skills? Can some one clue me in?

Continuity

Today I unloaded some emotional baggage. I felt better and I felt closer to whole than I have in a while. I realize that sometimes that unloading causing more of a stir than carrying it in silence, but I have to unburden myself. I am not a pack mule for everyone's burdens.

Today I realized that I belong to a society that has given me much purpose but no happiness. I am a secret keeper. In my professional life, keeping secrets is a no-no. We are trained to realize that keeping secrets only ends up in disaster. Although being open and honest causes a storm of unholy terror, it puts everything out there. Either the other person weathers the storm or gets consumed by it. By keeping secrets we convey the notions that we do not trust and the other person is incapable of making a sound decision. Maybe they are, but until we give them the opportunity to make a decision in the crest of the disaster, we will never know for sure. Secrets also keep us all bound up with so many emotional turmoils.

My goal in these next few months is to limit my secrets. I can't hold onto someone else's sorrow and shame. I have enough of my own to carry around.

Introspection

In the movie "Precious" the teacher, Ms. Rayne, told her students to write everyday. She wanted them to see beyond what they normally saw in order to see what they see everyday in a different light. I haven't been writing everyday and things are coming down on me. I understand now that I have to write everyday or continue to perish.

Right now my heart and mind are heavy. They are both so weighted down that I cannot sleep at night because the constant thoughts and feelings racing through my body. I know that I have betrayed my heart, but I felt so justified at the time. I can't take it back and I won't take it back. It has made me realize that I have to say my words out or write them out or they will choke me. I can't continue to swallow this heartache and pain simply because I feel there is no other option. When we keep secrets that's what we wind up doing, swallowing down pain, heartache, disappointment, fear, anxiety, helplessness. To make all that go down easier, we use food, drink, sex, whatever makes it easier to tolerate the choking, suffocating feelings that are there. If I want to live the way I'm supposed to live, I have to stop pretending that I'm not choking and suffocating. I have to change it now or never.

Every day the secrets want to come out like vomit from my mouth, my soul and spill out onto the world to see and look. I want them to point at my regurgitation, at me. I want them to see all of the pain, hurt, satisfaction, disappointment, shame, ridicule, heartbreak that I have kept inside of me for so long. When I think of it coming up to consume me, I shove it down with something that makes me feel good so that I can forget it all. The problem is I can't forget it all. I remember it all everyday. I can't close my eyes and I can't even, I just can't.

I will have to write here or somewhere every day. I have to write to those that help me shove these secrets down my throat. We can't continue to live this way. We have to change this style of communication with each other. I have to break free from this den of hallucinations and delusions.

This may be the beginning, but it's not the very beginning.

Mixed Up

During the Memorial Day weekend, I decided to do some traveling. My friend was in a beauty pageant in the Dallas area, so I decided to start there. I traveled there on Saturday. It was a wonderful experience and I am glad that I was able to be part of it for her sake as well as my own. Things on Sunday became complicated. I had hoped to visit with my friend in Desoto for a few hours, but schedules, we were able to get together later than I expected. So by the time I made it to her place, I was feeling the stress of doing so much driving in a short amount of time. I stayed overnight then the next morning went to my sister's house
2.5 hours away from my Desoto friend. Then I made the 3.5 hour drive home. My original plan was to go to the pageant Saturday night, on Sunday stop in Desoto for a few hours, head to my sister's and come back on from there. I had thought to spend all of Memorial Day sleeping and recovering from my trip. The best laid plans....


So before I kicked off the weekend properly, I had to call someone from my that is part of my addictions to say "No." It would seem simple, but it isn't. I was okay with things until the person made a comment towards the end of the phone call about my trip. The comment was something to the effect of "I don't know if you are going for pleasure, but have a good time..." After I hung up that was the only part of the conversation that I could remember. I felt like calling back and saying, "what do yo mean "going for pleasure?" I told you what I was going to do and it was really none of your business." I am realizing that I put too much into trying to keep the relationships casual, but others put effort into making them
personal. If you never call me again, then I'm cool. This is why my addictions have to end. I am not looking for anything lasting, just something to do, like shopping. On the other hand the other person is looking for a connection which I don't want to make nor am I willing to make it. I have to end these type of behaviors. They are destroying me inside and out.

I am realizing that this struggle with "living right" is harder than expected. What does "living right" mean? Does it mean that I am stagnant and constant or does it mean I can by dynamic and reliable? All I know that is I'm trying to live right, but it doesn't always feel good. So as I take this journey of uncertainty towards something more stable, I continue to analyze this collage of emotions. Away I go ....

Philosopy

I am dog ass tired. I have been in the process of getting my permanent therapy license for almost a year now. I am not even half way there. Most people at my point can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but not me. I am feel like I am still waiting for the train to leave the station.

I have been looking for a part-time counseling position since I began this journey, but to no avail. It seems everyone that is hiring wants you to have the elusive LPC. Damnit to hell! I am going to have to step up my game now because I am drowning financially. When you get supervision free through your job it's wonderful, but when you have to pay for it, it sucks ass! It seems like this will never be over. I want to wallow in my pain for a bit. I might have to find a position as a counselor intern full-time doing something i don't want to do
just to get the supervision for free and get it over with sooner than later. The one possible bright spot is that if someone from another area quits by the end of the summer, I can ask to slide into that place. That way I will be able to do more and get done quicker. This is a remote possibility. Although someone in another area has stated that they want to quit, I doubt they will. Some people become complacent after some time and moving in a different direction is hard for them to do.

When I feel like I am drowning and there is no help in sight, I have a tendency to over eat. I turn to food to push down these feelings of surrender and hopelessness. I weight myself everyday (like an anorexic) to see how much I have gained. In the last few days I have seemed to have lost weight. My clothes are fitting looser and I feel better. This gradual process of eating smaller portions and ingesting less sugar is working thus far. I wonder what will happen when something truly big comes along and I can't adequately cope. Will I
return to my favorite past time-overeating--to combat the feelings and emotions I refuse to recognize and acknowledge? Only time can tell. I am trying to learn to not change the rules and guidelines to fit my own purpose. I continue to learn.....

Rebooted

On Saturday to relax, relate and recharge, I went to Galveston to the beach. I wanted to the sun rise over the ocean, but unfortunately, I went to West Beach instead of East beach(a mental note for the next time). So instead of watching the sun rise over the glorious Gulf of Mexico, I watched as the day progressed from night to morning (sun up). I arrived early because I wanted to sit outside and watch the sun rise. But since there was not sun to watch at West Beach, I waited for first light. I walked up and down the sidewalk next to the beach trying to catch a glimpse of the white crests of waves that I could hear crashing upon the sandy shore. When it was light enough for me to go down to the beach area,
I hesitated. There was no one on my side of the beach and I feared that there was something going on that I did not know anything about. So I walked near the seawall and slowly crept closer to the water. Finally I could not hold back any longer and I took off my flip flops and nervously stood a few inches from where the water had last descended. I waited and then a big wave (like 2 inches okay, but big to me) came up and the warm Gulf of Mexico surrounded my ankles and lower calves. The water was surprisingly warm and inviting. So I went in
deeper, being mindful to be aware of drop offs--don't want to drown so early in the morning. In some places the sand was soft and silty and other places it was hard and unforgiving due to the large amount of shell debris.

I stood in the water wondering at the greatness of God and how small everything is compared to the things that He can do and the miracles that we experience everyday, but fail to acknowledge. So during that great moment I took a picture with my camera phone and sent it to a few friends to let them know that the Texas coastline is magnificent this time of year. I moved over to the rock pier area and sat down on the large rocks near the shoreline. I let my feet dangle in the water and even ventured into the water up to my mid thigh area. It was fantastic! I never felt more alive than that moment! I sat there in the warm breeze of the morning whipping across my body and the warm water of the Gulf lapping at my legs
in amazement at the wonders of nature. It was all breathtakingly beautiful.

Nothing else matter or even compared to the greatness that I felt during that time. It put some things in perspective for me. While my week may be the worst week ever in my mind, the world around me continues to spit out beauty; I just have to take the time to see it. Nothing is impossible when you believe in something higher than yourself and make an effort to make a commitment to do the right thing. As I look at the photos that I took of that day, I am reminded each time to continue on the path that was chosen for me and not become overly discouraged by disappointments. So I keep on moving....

Damages

So the women's group last night was a bust. I had two people show up and they were just there for moral support. I was angry, hurt, disappointed and deflated because of the turn out. I am getting discouraged at this dismal lack of participation by the female members of the church. I am angry because I put out all this effort and no one shows up. Also I am angry because I am trying to get my permanent counseling license so I do counseling part time and I can't even count this group because no one is showing up. Therefore instead of it taking two years to get my license it's gonna take 3 years if not more. That's a lot of money that I have to put out for counseling supervision. So I am also angry because I'm afraid I will never get this license, I will run out of time and I will never get to move on with my life. I need this license in order to get other therapy jobs and get paid what I deserve. I'm also angry because I feel like that time I spent on the group preparation I could have used to do something else, see clients in individual counseling. I am NOT getting paid for this, so I feel people should be more considerate of my time.

I am disappointed that counseling and therapy are such stigmatized words in the Black community. It's okay to sell drugs and have kids when you are 12 or 13, but it's not okay to get counseling. That is the worst thing you can do. I feel like I am at the end of my rope.

Although I didn't stuff my feelings with food, I did numb them with my sexual addiction. So instead of giving in to one addiction, I have into another. So I have to cut that one off as well while I deal with the food addiction. I wanted a cookie or a filled doughnut badly last night, but I resisted those temptations. I did make an alternative to just brooding over the feelings; I went to the local lake and sat on the pier for a while and watched the sunset. I have decided that those are the types of things I need to do. They are free and the only thing they cost is possible a few dollars in gas because I have to drive to the lake and my time. Yet in still I let my tight reign on my food addiction overrule my good sense. I gave myself an irrational reason to view internet pornography. While my mind was on controlling my cravings for sugary treats, I mindlessly looked at internet pornography. In my recent readings of sexual addiction, it has been pointed out that many addictions co-exist; such as food addiction and sex addiction. So to combat the sex addiction, I will be cutting off my internet at the end of this month (May 2010). All of my internet use will be at the library. That will cut down how much time I spend on the internet watching pornography.

So the struggle continues and I am trying to face each obstacle as it comes. Tomorrow is a day for me to reconnect with me and have some down time doing something positive and recharging. I have to unbind myself from the worlds of addiction. To quote Stuart Smalley, "I am good enough..."

Waiting

Tomorrow is a significant day for me. I have a group session tomorrow with a group of women. The monthly topic is "Praying for a good man: A discussion on what is a good man and how to attract a good man." Tomorrow is significant not because I have to speak about relationships, speak in public, if it will be good or bad or that the audience will be women. It is a significant day for me because I don't know if anyone will show up. If no one shows up for this session, then I will feel rejected and worthless, which will lead to me going to the one thing that comforts me--FOOD! Last month when no one showed up I did take it personal and went home and ate half a New York style cheesecake. The killer thing is that I don't like cheesecake, but it was the only sugar-high calorie snack like food that I had in the house. The cheesecake, a food I don't like, was better than dealing with my feelings of rejection from a bunch of women I don't know. So tomorrow, I have to find something else to do with those feelings instead of stuffing them down with the sweetness of snack foods, if no one shows up for the session. I know there are other things for me to do because I tell my clients all the time about how to combat boredom. Yet I don't listen to my own sane advice. Well that is not true, I do listen, but I don't execute. I can get into my car and scream, I could go home and cry or I could go home and play my expensive ass Wii. I could also learn to reconnect by working out, but I won't do any of those things because "good girls and good therapists aren't dysfunctional."

Although I know that other people are dysfunctional, I don't want to be one of those people. At the same time, I can't be who I truly want to be. I know in truth I am not a vicious person, but how do you tell someone that you don't want to hear their shit again today. "It's unladylike to be mean or hurt someone's feelings." Why do I have to be a lady? Why can't I be a bad ass woman? Do ladies like blonds have more fun? In the total sum of my life I have been a happy medium between lady and stank slut about 1%. The rest of the time I am at either end of the spectrum or pretending to be a lady while my private behavior is stank slut. I want to be that happy medium again. That was a good place for me. This journey will take me there to find that place where I belong.

So as I prepare for this group session, the nagging thoughts in the back of my head are not about me not doing well during the presentation, but rather will anyone show up for the presentation. This Freudian perspective that I am currently living is giving me a migraine. I have to, at some point, stop living adolescence and start living adulthood. So tomorrow will be a success no matter what. If there is no audience, I will blog about the experience and put my feelings out there for others to analyze--good or bad. If there is an audience, I will blog about the experience and put my feeling out there for others to analyze--good or bad. Either way my old lover, FOOD, will not be there to comfort me. I have to realize that our relationship is disintegrating. I bravely take another step on the road to recovery. Here I go....

Another Try

I am on mission to find my true weight and body without the use of gadgets or "miracle" cures. I have had over 20 years of that and enough is enough (Thank you Babs and Donna)! So my first foray into this almost uncharted territory is only eating when my stomach "growls" or I feel hungry. Sometimes my gauge on this is okay and sometimes not so much. My next step is an Over eaters Anonymous (OA) meeting. I started on that one a few weeks ago, only to mess it put by following my own rules. This time I have to do it right and face my "demons" (Now I am thinking of Devil's Food cake--so yummy!). My third step is to read the book Women, Food and God by Geneen Roth. For once Oprah and I are speaking and talking in the same language. I would love for my BFFs to join me on this journey, but these first few steps I have to take on my own.



I am hoping that keeping this blog going will inspire me to keep going on this road. This life of yo-yo weight is slowly killing me in more ways than one. This is one love affair that I have to gain absolute control over or end up in a place I don't want to be (although I have been in several places I don't want to be). So here goes everything......