And I totally bit at one point. Since it was trail, though, the fall was not too bad. My hands got a little scratched up. I had a freaking blast and would do it all over again. It was easily one of the toughest challenges I have ever done as a runner considering that it was almost complete trail and 8 miles, but I would love to do it again next week. It made me feel so powerful and strong. I ran it with my BFF and our time was 1:30:14 which considering that it has just rained the night before and there was a lot of forced walking on rocks and such, I do not believe that is too bad. I am appropriately tired, but nothing other than my foot hurts. My IT band was acting towards the latter part, but it feels fine now. The stretching and rolling all week has clearly helped. I feel like I can do the half. I do not believe that with the IT band acting up, the marathon is a good idea this year, but next year, it is on. I am mentally ready. I am totally talking my BFF into this race again next year. Trail running more fun than I had ever expected or imagined. I did not think I was missing much, but as it turns out, I was missing out on a lot. Loads of fun. I think my BFF and I will add a trail run into our workouts every once in a while. Just loads of fun!! I actually said that I cannot wait to see where I am sore tomorrow.
I am happy that the IT band is not too bad. I hit on that knee when I fell so I thought for sure that it would start really yelling at me, but it waited until closer to the end and it has been ok today. I am getting ready to stretch now. I see Jason on Tues so hopefully he can help fix me further.
I need to get the eating under control. Godiva dessert truffles and pumpkin ice cream are awesome and all, but they are not going to help me get to my weight goal, and I really want to get to my weight goal. After running the race today, I feel like I could do anything so I feel like I can lose those last 8 pounds. The time is right. Just how I feel.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
I am finally going crazy. It has finally hit.
Scary, but it is true. It is finally here. I knew it was coming and here is it is.
I am changing my dishes. I hate my dishes. Hate them. I picked out my every day dishes when I was 23. I picked out the same dishes that my parents used my entire lifetime. My freaking grandmother used them. When my mother saw that I registered for the same pattern she had, she bought me everything. I mean everything. I have more dishes than I know what to do with in my life. I have probably 30 place settings, the gravy boat, the creamer (no one in my house drinks coffee,) the sugar container, the deep dishes, the soup bowls, the pitcher, etc, etc. They make it I have it. She went nuts. I like to think she was trying to be kind hoping I would never have to spend another $ on dishes again, but I was 23. My tastes have changed quite a bit and frankly, I think I just picked out a pattern then because I was so depressed and beaten down and it was easy. I hate them now. I broke on a few months ago and after the shock of it hitting the ground, it felt amazing. I taking out some dishes and smashing them to pieces. I will donate the others. It will help a lot of folks who need dishes, trust me. There are freaking some in the attic. I will be donating them for years, but they are going. I am finding something more me. I realized last night that I spend so much time worrying about everyone else and what everyone else thinks of me and how I look and act and if I am a good friend, wife, mother, co-worker, boss, work out partner, and daughter. It is EXHAUSTING. Exhausting. No wonder I am so tired all of the time. It is draining. I am worrying about me. Screw the stress over worrying about everything else. I kept these dishes for the last 5 years even though I hated them as I climbed out of a 20 year depression. I felt guilty. I felt like I would offend my mother since she had bought so many of them. I felt it was wasteful. I felt my mother would judge me. I don't care today. They will go to a good home so there will be little waste other than the plates I smash to bits, and as far as offending my mother, I no longer care. I want dishes that make me happy and make me smile when I see them. I am tired of hating them when I see them. I don't want life to be just good enough or acceptable. I want more than that. That is the basis for my problems in my marriage and the basis for these episodes I keep having. I had another one today. I thought it was low blood pressure, but one hit today as I was dropping my son off at school. I was thinking about my mother-in-law and her $ she is getting from my husband's dad. It took me to another place that I can no longer recall and suspect enters my mind each time I feel lightheaded as though I am about to pass out. Having it happen while driving freaked me out for obvious reasons, but it let me know that these are panic attacks I am having. Something is triggering them. I can no longer remember what my thoughts were when it hit, but I realized that I need to start doings things to work on my happiness (within in the scope of my kids, of course, because they come first and should come first.) I am staring with the small change, my dishes. I have spent the last 28 years feeding myself with food to fill up the emptiness I feel each and every day. I tie it all up, the stress, the overeating, the sadness, and the loneliness and put a bow on it and hold onto it so tight. It is enough. Piece by piece, I can untie it and get rid of it and just let it go. So today it is my dishes. We may be eating on paper plates for a while, but I do not care. I want those dishes gone....
I am changing my dishes. I hate my dishes. Hate them. I picked out my every day dishes when I was 23. I picked out the same dishes that my parents used my entire lifetime. My freaking grandmother used them. When my mother saw that I registered for the same pattern she had, she bought me everything. I mean everything. I have more dishes than I know what to do with in my life. I have probably 30 place settings, the gravy boat, the creamer (no one in my house drinks coffee,) the sugar container, the deep dishes, the soup bowls, the pitcher, etc, etc. They make it I have it. She went nuts. I like to think she was trying to be kind hoping I would never have to spend another $ on dishes again, but I was 23. My tastes have changed quite a bit and frankly, I think I just picked out a pattern then because I was so depressed and beaten down and it was easy. I hate them now. I broke on a few months ago and after the shock of it hitting the ground, it felt amazing. I taking out some dishes and smashing them to pieces. I will donate the others. It will help a lot of folks who need dishes, trust me. There are freaking some in the attic. I will be donating them for years, but they are going. I am finding something more me. I realized last night that I spend so much time worrying about everyone else and what everyone else thinks of me and how I look and act and if I am a good friend, wife, mother, co-worker, boss, work out partner, and daughter. It is EXHAUSTING. Exhausting. No wonder I am so tired all of the time. It is draining. I am worrying about me. Screw the stress over worrying about everything else. I kept these dishes for the last 5 years even though I hated them as I climbed out of a 20 year depression. I felt guilty. I felt like I would offend my mother since she had bought so many of them. I felt it was wasteful. I felt my mother would judge me. I don't care today. They will go to a good home so there will be little waste other than the plates I smash to bits, and as far as offending my mother, I no longer care. I want dishes that make me happy and make me smile when I see them. I am tired of hating them when I see them. I don't want life to be just good enough or acceptable. I want more than that. That is the basis for my problems in my marriage and the basis for these episodes I keep having. I had another one today. I thought it was low blood pressure, but one hit today as I was dropping my son off at school. I was thinking about my mother-in-law and her $ she is getting from my husband's dad. It took me to another place that I can no longer recall and suspect enters my mind each time I feel lightheaded as though I am about to pass out. Having it happen while driving freaked me out for obvious reasons, but it let me know that these are panic attacks I am having. Something is triggering them. I can no longer remember what my thoughts were when it hit, but I realized that I need to start doings things to work on my happiness (within in the scope of my kids, of course, because they come first and should come first.) I am staring with the small change, my dishes. I have spent the last 28 years feeding myself with food to fill up the emptiness I feel each and every day. I tie it all up, the stress, the overeating, the sadness, and the loneliness and put a bow on it and hold onto it so tight. It is enough. Piece by piece, I can untie it and get rid of it and just let it go. So today it is my dishes. We may be eating on paper plates for a while, but I do not care. I want those dishes gone....
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Out of my routine
And it is killing me. Slowly I am becoming less of the person I was. I miss running terribly. I do 8 on Sat. Hopefully that will bring some relief. Tomorrow my life gets more back to normal, thank goodness. I have an appt with Jason, the awesome PT, on Tuesday. That will further bring some relief. I have been doing a lot of thinking over the last few days about my mother and my hubby. The funny thing is that it is this book that I am reading that I almost stopped reading that has gotten me thinking about both. As far as my mother goes, I can try desperately to have a relationship with her. I can, but the problem is that the only relationship she will allow is one on her terms. That would be ok for a normal person, but she is anything but normal. She has to control and manipulate and bribe. I spent 36 years playing her games and letting her control and bribe and manipulate me all so I could feel her love and approval. It was so exhausting. The end result was always the same. She was never satisfied. I never got her love or her approval or even her appreciation. I always felt less than. I have finally given up. I used to go the superficial route and just call her every other week and keep it light. I don't even have the strength to do that any more. That facade is exhausting and frankly, hearing my mother say that all she has left is her privacy is more than I can bear. The implication of that statement is that we (my siblings and I) have taken everything from her so I am stopping the taking. I want no more. Well, that is a lie. I want a normal relationship with my mother, one full of love and appreciation for the woman I have become, but I know now that I will never get that with her no matter how hard I try, and I am tired of trying. I just do not have the strength to push forward any more. Life is short and I have spent so much time worrying about how she would view me and what I could do to gain more favor. The truth is nothing works. Play her games or you are out of favor.
The problem is that my mother problems have a major affect on my relationship with my husband. I am so afraid of heartbreak that I will not allow myself to be loved because who can love a girl when her own other cannot love her, right? Because I am waiting for my hubby to leave me, I keep pushing him away and holding back from committing 100%. This constant battle has a major impact on my life. Any issue that comes up is a major problem rather than just a minor slight. How do I fix that? I am working on it, but it so out of control at times. I don't know what to do or how to fix it and it is all wrapped up in one big confusing piece in my mind. What so I do? I am so worried that this will completely impact my marriage and ruin it. How do I open myself up and stop protecting so much. I need to find the hole in my heart that forces me to hold back. I am just so afraid he will stop loving me and what do I do if that happens? How will I survive?
The problem is that my mother problems have a major affect on my relationship with my husband. I am so afraid of heartbreak that I will not allow myself to be loved because who can love a girl when her own other cannot love her, right? Because I am waiting for my hubby to leave me, I keep pushing him away and holding back from committing 100%. This constant battle has a major impact on my life. Any issue that comes up is a major problem rather than just a minor slight. How do I fix that? I am working on it, but it so out of control at times. I don't know what to do or how to fix it and it is all wrapped up in one big confusing piece in my mind. What so I do? I am so worried that this will completely impact my marriage and ruin it. How do I open myself up and stop protecting so much. I need to find the hole in my heart that forces me to hold back. I am just so afraid he will stop loving me and what do I do if that happens? How will I survive?
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Disappointment sets in
My run was awesome. Ave pace was 9:33 per mile which is 11 seconds under my last two averages. I was feeling awesome. Weather was low 60's and PERFECT. About mile 8 I can feel my left IT band tightening. First let me say that going into this run my right hamstring was tight so I knew that there would likely be some pulling on the left to make up for the right. I had no clue it would hit my IT band. I had to stop running at little short of mile 11 because the pain was getting unbearable and I know from past experience that you do not run through IT band pain. I had to walk home. I am so frustrated because I was killing it today and ready for a 2 and a half hour run. I was even thinking maybe just maybe I could stretch to 3 hours the following week and maybe just maybe see if I could run/walk the full marathon in Nov. Instead I am heading back to my primary care physician tomorrow in hopes that he sends me back to Jason, the best physical therapist I have ever known. Jason got me through the last set of problems and got me running again. I firmly believe he helped me mentally and physically run the last half marathon. I just want to nip this problem before it really gets going and I end up with a slipped disk and in horrible pain again. Jason can do that for me. I am also frustrated because I am doing everything from previous physical therapy. Maybe not every day but at least every other day. I know I should stretch every day that I run. Maybe that is what is missing? I always do a long run on Fridays and Friday is my day off from stretching. I guess that I need to change that. I am semi freaking out. What if this gets worse? What if I cannot continue long runs through this? I was just really finding my groove with the long runs. It is not an easy feat to run for over 2 hours once a week. It messes with your mind going into it. You start to dread that day of the long run and then you start to dread the evening prior. Well, I had just overcome that. I was excited to run last week and this week. I was ready to face the challenge. This am, I welcomed the challenge, and then this happened. Of course I am disappointed. I ran 8 miles on Friday. I was finally starting to really feel like a runner, and I so want to be a runner. I love running. It frees me. It frees my mind and my soul. Lorraine Moller, a runner and winner in the 92 Olympics said that "running is my meditation, mind flush, cosmic telephone, mood elevator, and spiritual communion." I don't know if every runner feels that way about running, but I do. I especially identify with the meditation and mind flush part. I work through so many problems when I am running. I often get my best ideas when running. Part of the reason I needed stress therapy last year was that my mind was too cluttered when running. I could not work through a thing. (Sorry my daughter is sitting here coloring and singing. I might pee in my pants laughing it is so cute.) So distracted now. She is just going on and on...
Anyways, I need running and I need the long distances. I need it for my mind and soul but also for my body. Significant changes come with distance running. Had I known that years ago, I would have ditched my regular 5k's and focused on the longer runs. I don't want to lose those changes. I love them. I have lost about 5 pounds, but it is more than the weight. It is the way I look. I look longer and leaner and I finally have the bump out at the top of my thigh from the muscles there that I always wanted. I absolutely do not want to lose that. I am hoping Jason can fix me and if the doc does not want to send me to Jason, well, then I am hoping that his recommendation can fix what I have going on now. I just know that I cannot and should not run through IT band problems. So here I sit with a thermacare wrap on my left knee. I will walk funny up and downstairs for a few days. I just hope that my 8 mile run Sat goes well and I can make it through. I plan to row this week anyways so hopefully that help my problem some. Rowing seems to stretch out my back and legs which ultimately should help the IT. Stupid IT band. Best run in a long time and that thing has to ruin it. I was killing it and at a 9:40 (even if I had slowed down at the end) I would have likely gone 15 miles before I stopped. I was mentally and physically ready. It was like all of the stars had aligned...well, all the stars but the one for my body anyways....
Anyways, I need running and I need the long distances. I need it for my mind and soul but also for my body. Significant changes come with distance running. Had I known that years ago, I would have ditched my regular 5k's and focused on the longer runs. I don't want to lose those changes. I love them. I have lost about 5 pounds, but it is more than the weight. It is the way I look. I look longer and leaner and I finally have the bump out at the top of my thigh from the muscles there that I always wanted. I absolutely do not want to lose that. I am hoping Jason can fix me and if the doc does not want to send me to Jason, well, then I am hoping that his recommendation can fix what I have going on now. I just know that I cannot and should not run through IT band problems. So here I sit with a thermacare wrap on my left knee. I will walk funny up and downstairs for a few days. I just hope that my 8 mile run Sat goes well and I can make it through. I plan to row this week anyways so hopefully that help my problem some. Rowing seems to stretch out my back and legs which ultimately should help the IT. Stupid IT band. Best run in a long time and that thing has to ruin it. I was killing it and at a 9:40 (even if I had slowed down at the end) I would have likely gone 15 miles before I stopped. I was mentally and physically ready. It was like all of the stars had aligned...well, all the stars but the one for my body anyways....
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Next race
Why is it that you finish a race and your mind is already working on the next one. I have my first trail run on the 29th. It is only an 8 miler which is nothing for me, but I am excited to do a trail run. Then I have the next half in early November. I am not looking forward to that cold am, but I am looking forward to running. For some reason I am having recovery issues after long runs. I did not recover well Sunday. I was dog tired all day. It was terrible. Nothing helped. I keep wondering what am I doing wrong. Then yesterday am, I had to lay down twice because the feeling like I was going to pass out overcame me. Something is not right so what is it? What am I doing wrong? I am young; I should be able to weather these runs no problem. A good friend keeps telling me she thinks it is iron. I am not sure. I need to think about it more and change a few things in my diet and see what helps. It worries me a bit... I just want to be strong and run well. My dream and ultimate goal right now is to run 15 miles all at once. I would love to do it before the year is out and the weather turns too cold for my blood. So what is my goal next year? The big 20. To even think about running 20 miles...wow. I can do it, though. I figure it will take 4 hours. I want to do it and I can do it. I just need to find the time. Ultimately, I am ready. Who ever thought I would feel that way? I am worried that I will lose strength and tone in my legs over the winter. That is what drives me to keep running through the winter. I hope I can do it. The cold chills me to the core. I hate it....
I feel in some ways like the hubby and I are turning a corner, but I am not sure exactly what is around the corner, truth be told. I keep hoping it is good stuff. I think it is. Life is scary. Very scary and loving someone is one of the most terrifying things you can do. I don't mean loving your kids. That is the easy part. Loving your spouse or partner is the scary thing. It terrifies me. I always say that these days I am rallying against that which I fear. Hell, I rode Mach Tower and the Griffon all by myself. I even ran a half marathon alone--trained for it alone too. Love, though, I treat differently. It seems like I feel ok to retreat from it. Go figure. I need to work on that one. I live in fear of losing that love all of the time. Why is that and what does that ultimately say about me? I need to figure that one out too.
So this weekend is 2 hours and 15 minutes. I felt great this past weekend as I was running. But not for some new pain in my right foot at the top, I would have done the full 2 hours and 15 minutes. As it was, I did 2 hours and 9 minutes. It felt great when I was running. I felt strong and unstoppable. I hope that feeling persists during this weekend. I want to be ready!
I feel in some ways like the hubby and I are turning a corner, but I am not sure exactly what is around the corner, truth be told. I keep hoping it is good stuff. I think it is. Life is scary. Very scary and loving someone is one of the most terrifying things you can do. I don't mean loving your kids. That is the easy part. Loving your spouse or partner is the scary thing. It terrifies me. I always say that these days I am rallying against that which I fear. Hell, I rode Mach Tower and the Griffon all by myself. I even ran a half marathon alone--trained for it alone too. Love, though, I treat differently. It seems like I feel ok to retreat from it. Go figure. I need to work on that one. I live in fear of losing that love all of the time. Why is that and what does that ultimately say about me? I need to figure that one out too.
So this weekend is 2 hours and 15 minutes. I felt great this past weekend as I was running. But not for some new pain in my right foot at the top, I would have done the full 2 hours and 15 minutes. As it was, I did 2 hours and 9 minutes. It felt great when I was running. I felt strong and unstoppable. I hope that feeling persists during this weekend. I want to be ready!
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Continuation of my mind and why it is warped.
Yes, yesterday's blog was just scratching the service. It is the truth. Most daughters have mother issues, but my issues border on emotional abuse. It has taken my a long, long time to realize that. I had a therapist tell me that once when I was 18. I dropped him like a sack of dirt after that one session. I was a not ready to hear it. I still remember his words. "It sounds like you have a controlling, emotional bully." He had some other not so nice words. I wish I had stayed with him now. My college education might have turned out differently if I had.
Anyways, today's theme is why I really ran the half marathon. I will get to that in a minute, but first I will address how my world closed in just as it got going. When I was thinking about the kind of life I wanted and the kind of person I wanted to be, my options were limited. When you are young, you identify the kind of adult you want to be by deciding what career path to follow. When I expressed my interests to my mother as a child teenage, or young adult, I got some interesting responses. Very early on, I wanted to be an actress. I was told that was a hard life and not to pursue it. I was told this despite the fact that my mother had a friend in the entertainment biz and that woman was hot to trot to put me in plays. As I got older, my interests changed. I wanted to be a meteorologist for the longest time. I was told that they make no money and I would never get a job so I let go of that dream. A little later, I said that I wanted to work for the FBI (which would have been perfect considering my gift in emotional intelligence.) That was met with "You will never get a job. It is really hard to get one. You have to know someone." Finally I gave up and decided to be a doctor which was she wanted. I knew that kind of schooling was not for me. I got to college and gave up that idea. I went through major after major and expressed interest in a myriad of majors. I could not go into government which I loved because according to her, what would do I? What kind of job would I get with that? Nothing so I could not do that. I expressed an interesting in the business school. Nope again. Why? Because my brother for a bachelor's in business management and was working at a rental car place so that was not good. That was cut off for me too. So my world got smaller and smaller at a point where it should have been growing bigger and bigger. Her whole deal the whole time was that getting these jobs was hard work. The irony of all of it is that I never shy away from hard work. Quite the opposite. It enriches me. (The thrill of giving birth for me is not the thrill of the baby so much--not at the moment anyways, it is the thrill of knowing that I worked as hard as I did to get that baby out!) Hard work makes me work better so had I been able to open my world up, who knows what I really would have accomplished or what doors I would have opened up for myself. The sad thing is that I never got to try to find out. AND just to go on record, I would have made one kick@ss accountant.
So why did I run the half? I ran the half because training for it and actually doing it was hard work. Honestly, getting through the rain that day on a 13.1 mile run was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I knew that I would never stop running that race no matter what happened, no matter what pain cropped up, and no matter how tired I got. My mother wanted to close my world in. At this point in my life, I want to open up what is left for me to open at my age. That is why I have to run a full marathon. I have to draw in the hard work. She took those moments away from me. She told me not to bother because it was too hard. I am not afraid of too hard, Mom. I never have been and never will be. You are. I am sorry that you are. You gave up a long time ago. I know that now. Nothing is left in you. It died a long, long time ago before I was born. I am not afraid to try. Trying is the base of hope, and I always have hope.
Anyways, today's theme is why I really ran the half marathon. I will get to that in a minute, but first I will address how my world closed in just as it got going. When I was thinking about the kind of life I wanted and the kind of person I wanted to be, my options were limited. When you are young, you identify the kind of adult you want to be by deciding what career path to follow. When I expressed my interests to my mother as a child teenage, or young adult, I got some interesting responses. Very early on, I wanted to be an actress. I was told that was a hard life and not to pursue it. I was told this despite the fact that my mother had a friend in the entertainment biz and that woman was hot to trot to put me in plays. As I got older, my interests changed. I wanted to be a meteorologist for the longest time. I was told that they make no money and I would never get a job so I let go of that dream. A little later, I said that I wanted to work for the FBI (which would have been perfect considering my gift in emotional intelligence.) That was met with "You will never get a job. It is really hard to get one. You have to know someone." Finally I gave up and decided to be a doctor which was she wanted. I knew that kind of schooling was not for me. I got to college and gave up that idea. I went through major after major and expressed interest in a myriad of majors. I could not go into government which I loved because according to her, what would do I? What kind of job would I get with that? Nothing so I could not do that. I expressed an interesting in the business school. Nope again. Why? Because my brother for a bachelor's in business management and was working at a rental car place so that was not good. That was cut off for me too. So my world got smaller and smaller at a point where it should have been growing bigger and bigger. Her whole deal the whole time was that getting these jobs was hard work. The irony of all of it is that I never shy away from hard work. Quite the opposite. It enriches me. (The thrill of giving birth for me is not the thrill of the baby so much--not at the moment anyways, it is the thrill of knowing that I worked as hard as I did to get that baby out!) Hard work makes me work better so had I been able to open my world up, who knows what I really would have accomplished or what doors I would have opened up for myself. The sad thing is that I never got to try to find out. AND just to go on record, I would have made one kick@ss accountant.
So why did I run the half? I ran the half because training for it and actually doing it was hard work. Honestly, getting through the rain that day on a 13.1 mile run was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I knew that I would never stop running that race no matter what happened, no matter what pain cropped up, and no matter how tired I got. My mother wanted to close my world in. At this point in my life, I want to open up what is left for me to open at my age. That is why I have to run a full marathon. I have to draw in the hard work. She took those moments away from me. She told me not to bother because it was too hard. I am not afraid of too hard, Mom. I never have been and never will be. You are. I am sorry that you are. You gave up a long time ago. I know that now. Nothing is left in you. It died a long, long time ago before I was born. I am not afraid to try. Trying is the base of hope, and I always have hope.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Let's think about this
I was either in a really bad mood today or I was in a mood to totally and completely TCB today. I did get a lot done today. There was just a bunch of crappy little things to get done today. Typical Monday....
Anyways, I have been thinking a lot about my mother and how my hubby says that as he learns more about how I was raised, it fills in another piece of the puzzle. The thing my hubby finds most ridiculous is my fear he will cheat on me. I have been thinking a lot about its origins. My mother definitely made it very clear to us growing up that a woman had to be part Pam Anderson and part Jessica Rabbit in order for a man to find her desirable. If you were not the picture perfect, sexy, and alluring woman, a man would have little time for you. It was made clear to me at a young who the beauty in my family was and that men pined after my sister because of her giant breasts. Looking back, my mother clearly had issues with her own boobs which is why she was obsessed with my sister's. My mother is very small in the chest. My sister is large boobed and a petite woman. I was prior to my surgery, not small, but since I am a larger woman, I was more well proportioned. My mother cleared was never satisfied with her size; thus, she was obsessed with my sister's boobs from the start. Anyways, my sister was made to be this raving beauty which with the way my mother fawned over how beautiful she was, well, it only told me one thing as I did not get the same message from my mother. It told me that I was the ugly one. As a result, I have felt ugly my whole life. It still surprises me when a man looks my way or smiles at me or uses some cheesy pick up line on me. I want to think I am beautiful, but I just do not. I probably never will. The message of ugliness has been reinforced my entire life. Late circumstances did not help. The weight did not help. As a young child, I was maybe 5-10 pounds overweight, but my mother insisted I was fat. I remember when I was 9-10 years old and growing breasts that she asked my sister, "Do you think she has breasts because she is fat?" I still remember that over 25 years later. Looking back, I was not fat at all. I was bigger than my mother and sister who are both very petite, but have been 5 ft 7 inches tall since I was 12. I was never destined to be a small woman. My mother would compare me to Brook Shields who she said had to be super thin or she looked fat and that she was large boned so she just always looked fat and that her thighs always looked huge. My mother used that to tell me that I had to be thinner. I got thinner in the 10th grade, but that was short lived. When I got to college and got severely depressed, I gained about 30 pounds. I lost some of it the summer after my freshman year, but then it went up from there. Every time I saw my mother, I could read the disappointment on her face. She would make comments like, "Well, you just look heavy all over." My wedding dress was a disaster. When I went to get my dress, I ended up crying the dressing room. She wanted to order it a size smaller because as she told the sales person, "Every bride loses weight before her wedding." It was terrible. I did not lose weight. Rather I gained another 15 and my dress did not fit. That was another debacle. Rather than comforting me and saying, "hey, let's go get another dress--not like this one was expensive," she took it as another way to punish me and was mean. The irony and I guess the hurt now is that I thought she would be happy. Here I am thin and pretty thin. Not a word about my weight ever. I guess I should be happy I am not criticized, right. She always made such a deal about how thin my sister was. Now not one thing about me and by the way, I am thinner sister now...but that matters little to her now.
The other thing Lucy made sure to do was to tell us how smart we were but in the same discussion tell us that some classes were too hard to take for us. What do you think that tells teenagers? It tells that you are lying and that you are telling them falsehoods just to take it back later and pretty much destroying every piece of confidence they may have had in themselves. I did not expect her to tell me how wonderful I am. I just did not want to hear that I was brilliant one moment but then too stupid for something 10 minutes later. I was essentially criticized my entire life and every compliment was either a backhanded compliment with some dig later or taken back by being told the exact opposite thing later. There was always an agenda with her. If I did something great, well, someone else before had done it so it was not a big deal.
So there it is. There is the part of the story. Why would anyone want to be with me? I am getting older. What good looks I do have, they are fading and they are fading fast. I will no longer be attractive so if a man only wants Pam Anderson or Jessica Rabbit, well, he is leaving me sooner rather than later. If a man wants someone smart, well, he will not get that with me. I am kind of dumb about things. Yes, I know people. That is my talent. I read into their wants and desires so I know their motivations immediately. That talent comes from my innate lack of trust. Not necessarily a good thing.
Ultimately now I live a life she cannot understand so it is wrong and she cannot bear to think for two seconds that maybe it is right for me. Why because it is not the life she planned for me. Talk about projection. She felt ugly so she wanted me to feel that way too. She felt dumb and unaccomplished so she wanted me to feel dumb and unaccomplished too. She trusts no one so she wanted me to trust no one. Mom, you did a good job. You fulfilled your plan. I am all of those things--at least, I constantly fight them. That is why I think I am undeserving for my hubby to love me and stay with me. Who would want to stay with an ugly, stupid, distrustful person. When will my hubby realize that I have this facade of fabulous with nothing behind it. Mom, you were the one who taught me that all of it is a facade and it does not really exist. How am I to believe otherwise. As I run my butt off every week (literally) when will I ever get the good job or I really appreciate what you have done? Somehow I remain undeserving which makes me feel undeserving of a lot of things including my hubby's love...but it extends out elsewhere. My friends, my children....obviously my parents.....
Anyways, I have been thinking a lot about my mother and how my hubby says that as he learns more about how I was raised, it fills in another piece of the puzzle. The thing my hubby finds most ridiculous is my fear he will cheat on me. I have been thinking a lot about its origins. My mother definitely made it very clear to us growing up that a woman had to be part Pam Anderson and part Jessica Rabbit in order for a man to find her desirable. If you were not the picture perfect, sexy, and alluring woman, a man would have little time for you. It was made clear to me at a young who the beauty in my family was and that men pined after my sister because of her giant breasts. Looking back, my mother clearly had issues with her own boobs which is why she was obsessed with my sister's. My mother is very small in the chest. My sister is large boobed and a petite woman. I was prior to my surgery, not small, but since I am a larger woman, I was more well proportioned. My mother cleared was never satisfied with her size; thus, she was obsessed with my sister's boobs from the start. Anyways, my sister was made to be this raving beauty which with the way my mother fawned over how beautiful she was, well, it only told me one thing as I did not get the same message from my mother. It told me that I was the ugly one. As a result, I have felt ugly my whole life. It still surprises me when a man looks my way or smiles at me or uses some cheesy pick up line on me. I want to think I am beautiful, but I just do not. I probably never will. The message of ugliness has been reinforced my entire life. Late circumstances did not help. The weight did not help. As a young child, I was maybe 5-10 pounds overweight, but my mother insisted I was fat. I remember when I was 9-10 years old and growing breasts that she asked my sister, "Do you think she has breasts because she is fat?" I still remember that over 25 years later. Looking back, I was not fat at all. I was bigger than my mother and sister who are both very petite, but have been 5 ft 7 inches tall since I was 12. I was never destined to be a small woman. My mother would compare me to Brook Shields who she said had to be super thin or she looked fat and that she was large boned so she just always looked fat and that her thighs always looked huge. My mother used that to tell me that I had to be thinner. I got thinner in the 10th grade, but that was short lived. When I got to college and got severely depressed, I gained about 30 pounds. I lost some of it the summer after my freshman year, but then it went up from there. Every time I saw my mother, I could read the disappointment on her face. She would make comments like, "Well, you just look heavy all over." My wedding dress was a disaster. When I went to get my dress, I ended up crying the dressing room. She wanted to order it a size smaller because as she told the sales person, "Every bride loses weight before her wedding." It was terrible. I did not lose weight. Rather I gained another 15 and my dress did not fit. That was another debacle. Rather than comforting me and saying, "hey, let's go get another dress--not like this one was expensive," she took it as another way to punish me and was mean. The irony and I guess the hurt now is that I thought she would be happy. Here I am thin and pretty thin. Not a word about my weight ever. I guess I should be happy I am not criticized, right. She always made such a deal about how thin my sister was. Now not one thing about me and by the way, I am thinner sister now...but that matters little to her now.
The other thing Lucy made sure to do was to tell us how smart we were but in the same discussion tell us that some classes were too hard to take for us. What do you think that tells teenagers? It tells that you are lying and that you are telling them falsehoods just to take it back later and pretty much destroying every piece of confidence they may have had in themselves. I did not expect her to tell me how wonderful I am. I just did not want to hear that I was brilliant one moment but then too stupid for something 10 minutes later. I was essentially criticized my entire life and every compliment was either a backhanded compliment with some dig later or taken back by being told the exact opposite thing later. There was always an agenda with her. If I did something great, well, someone else before had done it so it was not a big deal.
So there it is. There is the part of the story. Why would anyone want to be with me? I am getting older. What good looks I do have, they are fading and they are fading fast. I will no longer be attractive so if a man only wants Pam Anderson or Jessica Rabbit, well, he is leaving me sooner rather than later. If a man wants someone smart, well, he will not get that with me. I am kind of dumb about things. Yes, I know people. That is my talent. I read into their wants and desires so I know their motivations immediately. That talent comes from my innate lack of trust. Not necessarily a good thing.
Ultimately now I live a life she cannot understand so it is wrong and she cannot bear to think for two seconds that maybe it is right for me. Why because it is not the life she planned for me. Talk about projection. She felt ugly so she wanted me to feel that way too. She felt dumb and unaccomplished so she wanted me to feel dumb and unaccomplished too. She trusts no one so she wanted me to trust no one. Mom, you did a good job. You fulfilled your plan. I am all of those things--at least, I constantly fight them. That is why I think I am undeserving for my hubby to love me and stay with me. Who would want to stay with an ugly, stupid, distrustful person. When will my hubby realize that I have this facade of fabulous with nothing behind it. Mom, you were the one who taught me that all of it is a facade and it does not really exist. How am I to believe otherwise. As I run my butt off every week (literally) when will I ever get the good job or I really appreciate what you have done? Somehow I remain undeserving which makes me feel undeserving of a lot of things including my hubby's love...but it extends out elsewhere. My friends, my children....obviously my parents.....
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