The Day Is Dreary And So Am I...

It strikes me as funny that 3 days prior to Thanksgiving, I have the windows open.  The computer tells me it's 66 degrees and the clouds are unbleached cotton.  The sky looks as if it could open up and begin drizzling at any moment.  I've waited for hours to hear a clap of thunder or see a bright jagged line of lightening crisscross the sky as promised by the morning news.  I think it's time to give up.

Inspired By Maxine...

When did 23 turn into 30? Growing up, filling out. A well-rounded individual, I am not. I still pine for self-assurance and sometimes even self-confidence. (Although, that part is slowly growing and it's all thanks to the mantra: "I'm fierce".) Clothing changed; I now wear hats far more often and am never far from a sweater. I spent the summer with bare arms for the first time in my life.

When the wind blows my back aches and I hug myself to keep warm. Ibuprofen is never far from my arthritic hands and the pharmacy has begun putting easy-open lids on my myriad of pills. I do yoga to keep me limber and follow it with coffee and conversation with a trusted friend to keep me going.

My body has aged but my spirit is still lagging behind in my mid-twenties. At 30, I pierced my nose, moved to the city, and went back to college. Being surrounded by youngsters is keeping me fresh. (Did I really just refer to them as youngsters?) I pore over textbooks and write papers that deserve and receive the coveted A's that will take me into Grad school and deliver me as faculty someday. At 30 I am racking up school loans that will take the rest of my days to pay off. I'm okay with that.

I deleted those who kept me down and whose drama I let spill into my life. I now spend my precious time with friends who support me like a good bra (which we all know is hard to find) and help me grow into the woman I'm becoming.

By 31, I'll be married to my best friend. I make adult decisions and opened a savings account. I stopped procrastinating and learned that I love lists. I have a love/hate relationship with my daily planner because I find myself forgetting things with a bit more ease.

At 30, I still don't have it all figured out. I'll let you know what 40 brings.

Uprooted…

I'm melancholy today. Thinking on my life and measuring how far I've come; I feel a sadness for those I've left behind. Yet, I know they were left behind for good reasons, be they public or private. Sometimes I find it hard to let go, although I know I'm letting go for my own sake and sanity.

I've turned to a new chapter in the book of my life. I'm happy. Finally. I've let go of those few people who let their drama bleed into my life. I'm making decisions that are beneficial to my well-being. I may be growing up and branching out; although I would not compare myself to a tree. I don't hold those deep roots full of the past.

My Story...

I wish I had a story to tell.  A story that others would lean in close to listen to.  Their eyes would light up at the exciting parts and moisten at the sad ones.  A story that those who hear it will want to pass it along to everyone they know.  They'll say, "listen to this..." and recount my tale of happiness and woe. 

The Warrior Pose...

I am a warrior woman.  Strong and proud.  The air that I breathe is sweet and clean.  I stand tall; head high and shoulders back.  Inhale, hold it.  Count to five and exhale, letting go of my cares and worries.  My body relaxes and my muscles are loose.  My heart beats out a staccato rhythm that says I am not one to be messed with. 

The Long Way…

So, I decided it's time to make some changes. I'm going to start walking more. Hoping that making these small changes will help lead to bigger changes. Like less binging and more healthful choices. I know it seems like I'm harping on the whole thing with this being my second entry about it, but I am hoping to turn the corner and stop some of my bad habits that have led me down this path. Fair warning: my blog is going to contain a lot of talk about this in the coming posts because I'm hoping this is going to consume my life and take over the eating. We'll see what happens.

Airing Out The Laundry...

There are 5 more weeks left in the semester.  I'm losing steam.  Here I sit, writing for enjoyment when I should be reading my Gender and Society textbook.  A mere 2 chapters left and I will have worked through the entire book.  What a good feeling that is!  Apparently it's not a good enough feeling to sit down and read through them, though! 

What I'd really rather be doing is napping.  Or eating.  I've been struggling with my eating as of late and it's taking it's toll on me and my weight.  It's compulsive.  I don't want to binge...I tell myself to stop while I'm doing it.  I feel powerless, though.  I stand in the kitchen, eating whatever I can put together while calling myself names and doing the whole 'negative self talk' gig.  It's disgusting.  And sad.  It's not a matter of willpower, it's more a matter of...well...I don't really know.  It's just this thing I do and I feel horrible while doing it.   

This is the second time I've written publicly about it.  I wrote a monologue for a course last Spring.  I was encouraged to perform it.  Do a 'one woman show' sort of deal.  It's always in the back of my mind.  Writing it was so cathartic...but I only showed it to a select group of individuals.  My professor, a couple of classmates...and I read a short bit to my whole class.  D mentioned it the other day.  Said I should reconsider getting it published/performed.  I dunno...it's so private.  Maybe, though, that is the boost I need.  Taking the private into the public might help begin my journey of healing. 

Another thing that would help the healing and maybe help me stop the binges...discussing this in therapy.  I feel such immense shame while I'm binging and even refuse to discuss it with my closest confidant, D.  I wonder sometimes if she knows the extent of my issues.  Something tells me she does.  She just *knows* me like that.  My therapist doesn't know, though.  It's my dirty little secret.  I think I'm afraid to mention it.  Mostly because I know this is probably an eating disorder.  No, not probably.  It is an eating disorder. 

Wow.  Where the hell did that all come from?  I considered erasing it.  Writing on something lighter...but, instead, I've left it where it is.  Staring me down.  Taunting me.  Tempting me into the kitchen because I feel vulnerable and that is one of my triggers.  I'm trying to resist.  God.  It's so hard.

Test…

I found a free app for my iPhone that posts to my personal blog. We'll see. This is the test run…

A Jumble Of Thoughts Deposited Here For Your Viewing Pleasure...

November 1st.  Where has the year gone?  I feel like I have been sleeping for months and just woke up this morning...November 1st.  Here it is, nearing the end of the year and the semester.  My 3rd semester at IUPUI.  I'm plugging right along.  The world is happening around me and I'm plugging right along.  Let's revisit that.  The world is happening around me.  Am I happening, too?  Am I making my mark, leaving my legacy, causing general mayhem?  I try.  Perhaps not quite hard enough, though.  Do I need to find a way to leave a footprint the size of Bigfoot's to feel accomplished?  Feels that way sometimes.  I carry the need to make myself known.

One of my therapy goals is to get out and DO something.  I think she means it literally...I'd much rather take it figuratively.  I want to get out and do something, make something, cause a scene.  But, quietly...so as not to draw attention to myself.  Speaking softly but causing a stir.  A disturbance in the air around you.  Something you aren't quite sure about, but know it's gonna be good.  You just know that something is afoot but it's not yet tangible.  That's me.  A disturbance.  A Whirling Dervish.  A tornado.  Okay, maybe not that much of a commotion.  But still, a commotion.