Sun

Where is the sun?  I wish it would come out.  I need the sun and the warmth.  Warm days have been overcast and sunny days have been cold.  Not winning!
I did sign up for a 5k/10k race in late April.  I cannot wait.  It excites me a good deal which is great for the running.  It helps.  I am losing weight too which is a good thing. Consistency is key and fortunately, I have been able to maintain that.  I am looking  forward to more days running outside as the temperatures continue to creep up.
My panic attacks left for about two months.  I thought that they were gone for good and left as quickly as they came.  They arrived back like crazy the other night.  I had 6 over the course of a night and worse yet, they kept waking me up.  I have had several since.  I am hoping they stop sooner rather than later.  These daily attacks are exhausting.
This year has brought me back to baseball which I love.  My son is playing and I love being out there with him and just watching.  It is wonderful.  I forgot how much I love baseball.  It has been a gift to have it back.  I am hoping this weekend's games are not canceled.  Hopefully!
So I talked to my mother the other night and realized how desperate her need for drama is.  It is how she keeps control.  She tried to guilt me into thinking that my brother was upset with me for something silly.  I did feel guilt when she made a big deal out of it, but then realized the following day that what she said was her need for comfort and not how he really feels.  She needed to control the situation and the easiest way for her to do that was to inject some negativity between my brother and I.  When I realized, I was mad.  I have wonderful siblings and it is that poison that keeps me from getting close to them.  They are still too tied to her.  It honestly makes me sad.   Very sad. 

Outpouring of some stuff

My therapist told me this week that I am hurting myself.  I knew that, but hearing someone else tell me that resonated with me.  There are some things I need to get out.  I know my husband will read this and I want him to know that this is not to make him feel bad.  It is not to create guilt.  The only outpouring I have of these things as they have bothered me come in waves of anger directed at him.  Why?  Because I cannot deal with the sadness so I focus on the anger when the feelings get too overwhelming.  I ask him to look at this as an outpouring of sadness, not anger or rage, but more about what I have held in for a long time or a short time depending on what items I hit. 
The marathon...every Sunday that I ran long, I thought about finishing that race.  Hell, some of the time picturing that moment was the only thing to push me through another 15+ mile run.  I pictured it more times than I can tell you.  Each time it brought a smile to my face.  The day came and went and no moment happened.  The truth was that by mid-Oct I was burned out on running, a lesson I will remember this year going into the marathon.  I still planned to run and would have finished.  The best way to explain what that moment to me was that it was supposed to be a moment that would allow me to maybe relinquish some of the self-loathing I do.  I felt like if I could defeat the marathon then maybe I was not as weak as I thought, or insignificant, or insecure and incompetent.  It takes a lot to push through 15 miles and then 20 miles and then 26.2.  Having that ability meant something to me and meant that maybe just maybe I was not as bad as I believe I am.  The most I ran last summer and fall was 23.2 miles.  It was broken up into 2 sections, but the rest in between was only about 15 minutes and I still did over 23 miles.  Me, the girl who never ran in PE.  The girl who was always picked last, and the girl who eventually learned to sit on the sidelines rather than out in front.  You see, I used to be this great outgoing person who was not afraid to shine.  Something changed my senior year of high school.  That was when I felt the change happen.  I was dating David Tanner at the time.  I don't think it was he.  I never really liked him all of that much, truth be told.  It was a long progression that went through my first year of college.  By the end of my freshman year, I was this quiet, compulsive, miserable and awkward person.  It took another 16 years to finally lose some of that misery.  During that time, I endured many things that I would not now.  I lost 75 pounds that I gained my sophomore year of college along the way, I got married, I had 2 kids, and I built a wonderful, amazing career.  Even with that of that, I was still just treading water.  Every now and then something happens that pushes me to yearn to swim upstream.  I spent a good part of my 35th year doing just that, pushing myself and learning to enjoy life a little more.  Most of my 36th and 37th years were spent with setbacks from that.  I have gained 10 pounds and felt more tired and miserable than I had in a long, long time.  I felt the awkwardness in everything.  It keeps me from talking to people and doing some of the things I want to do.  I desperately want to be like the girl who was not content to sit on the sidelines, the girl I remember before my senior year.  I don't want to be her, do not get me wrong.  I am older and much wiser.  I want part of her to merge with the woman I am now.  I do not want to be afraid to shine anymore.  I do not want to worry about everything I say or do or worry about the way I look so much.  The marathon for me was that moment to shine, and I guess I had hoped in that moment, maybe it would carry forward.  Maybe I could hold onto it and take it further so maybe I could find that girl in me and get part of her back.  That is why I am sad about the marathon.  I do not know if I go into this year's that hopeful.  I worry more that with my foot issues that I will not be able to run that far.  It stresses me.  I did not have a beautiful, wonderful, and amazing wedding.  I never wore a dress that I felt a princess in.  The birth of my first child was a sad not a happy occasion.  I let myself down in a dozen other major ways.  I want my moment.  That is what the marathon was about, my moment.     

Therapy

So this book I am reading about mothers who cannot love suggests you write your mother a letter with a few major points covered.  I am not sure if I plan to do that yet, but it does mention how the book will bring up old sores in that relationship.  It certainly has done that.  My plan is to roll through some of the items that have come up over the next few weeks.  Today will be my period issues when I was younger.  I got my period when I was 11.  It was mixed up from the start.  I know that it cane take years for a cycle to settle, but mine never did.  At 13 years old, I was having very painful periods and went 9 months without a period.  I was not sexually active.  Then I went through 4 weeks of bleeding with large clots.  I was bleeding through pads overnight so much so that the blood ended up all over the floor.  (I was sleeping on the floor at the time.  Long story there--had more to do with comfort than anything else.)  Because of the blood on the floor, my mother finally took me to a doctor.  He told her that it was normal.  Keep in mind that he never even did an exam or pap smear.  That is not normal for anyone who had not had a baby....  She believed him because it was easier for her to do so and she was too wrapped up in my sister's life to worry about me.  It made me sad that she did not help me.  Fast forward 2 years.  Again, still not sexually active.  I am still having incredible pain during my cycles.  She finally relents and takes me back to a new gynecologist, one she later admitted to me that she did not like.  He was about 55 and came in coldly, did the exam, and then left.  The nurse later gave me an prescription for a birth control pill to control my hormones.  I started taking it and a week later, I was in even more pain.  I am a tough lady.  I went through child birth without drugs.  The pain was so terrible that I was crying.  My mother did nothing.  Allegedly, my sister called the nurse who told her that the pain would go away in a few months as my body got used to the hormones.  There was no way I would continue taking the pills the way it hurt so I stopped.  I had desperately wanted my mother to help me at that time and to call the nurse and demand they change my pill.  It was the 90's.  There were a million pills out there!  She never did.  Fast forward another year.  I was sexually active with my boyfriend and got pregnant.  Yes, my mother was great when she found out I was pregnant and did everything she could to help me put my daughter up for adoption, and I am by no means suggesting that I do not want my eldest daughter in this world, but the reality is that my mother could have prevented that hardship in my life simply by helping me with the doctor when the pill made me sick.  The reality is as I was later told that I likely had endometriosis and that having my oldest child helped to correct it, but the pill could have done the same thing.  I take responsibility for having sex at 16.  I will say too that I did go to planned parenthood and get on the pill about the time I got pregnant.  I was just a week too late.  I know that my decisions are not my mother's fault.  I understand that, but what makes me sad is that she did not protect me or help me when she had the chance.  It makes me feel neglected.  How do you not protect your child when she is suffering and I was suffering.  That is my sore for today. 

Life has been ok...

I have finally stopped gaining weight and have managed to move the needle down a little.  It is not totally what I want, but it is better than going up.  I have thrown up once in the last 30 days which I consider a victory.  The control over the food has been a constant battle, but some days, I win it so I am happy about that.  I am still not able to exercise the way I would like, but I should be back to pre-injury state in the next 30 days which is good.  Today I did 8 miles running on the treadmill and did speed intervals at the end.  The fact that I did them at the end, makes me feel good.  I did the last mile at 1 mph faster than the previous 7 which makes me happy but also tells me that I am not pushing myself enough as I run.  I definitely need to challenge myself more.  My foot hurts on and off.  Sometimes, the pain and tightness goes back to my calf. I keep hoping it will go back to the calf and just stay there.  I am working on strengthening the gluts and hoping that will help.  NASCAR started last night which makes me happy.  It feels like spring might be coming in sooner rather than later.  I look forward to the start of racing because it signifies the end of winter for me.  A little over a month to go now.  I think I can make it. 
Interesting enough, my hubby bought a mirror for me for Christmas so I can look at myself full length.  In it, I look thin.  How sad and amusing it is that I think the image is due to the angle of the mirror and not how I really look.  It is true.  Not quite sure how to fix that or what to make of it, but it is real. 
I decided that I am going ahead with the tummy tuck.  I see the winners on the Biggest Loser and I know the secret they hide, the extra skin that hangs from their weight loss.  It is time to get rid of mine.  I want to do it while I am still young enough to enjoy it.  This year is the time. 
I am watching my daughter more and more and seeing how she perceives the world.  I have to be careful not to pass on my issues about body and self-image to her.  Right now she thinks she is amazing and wonderful and I hope she spends her lifetime feeling that way.  I started reading a book about mothers who cannot love.  My own mother is defined in that book over and over again.  I cannot do some of the exercises in the book that are supposed to shake the feelings of inadequacy that come from mothers who cannot love, but the book has made me think more and more how the excuses I always provided for my mother should not prevent me from feeling anger over the things that she did.  I struggle these days with how to maintain a relationship with her and what I want out of it. The reality is that I cannot have the relationship I want with my mother, and because of that, I don't want one with her.  I would honestly prefer to cut her out of my life, but the guilt pulls me back constantly so I try to keep her at a large distance, but the hassle of even dealing with her on a very limited basis sends me into a tailspin of stress.  It would just be easier not to deal with her at all.  What bothers me even more is that I would love to have a relationship with my siblings, but that would mean engaging with my mother more and that is something I am not willing to do.  I don't know what the answer is.  All I know is that I am tired of feeling guilty, afraid, and worried.  My children want to go ice skating today.  I keep worrying that they might fall and hurt themselves.  It is almost enough worry to keep me from taking them.  I do not want to be afraid.  I loved ice skating as a child.  I want them to go and enjoy like I did growing up.  I don't want to be afraid. 

I went to William and Mary

I never talk about that a lot and what a disaster it was.  I was not meant to go there by any stretch, but erasing my life there erases my life now so I can only want things to change so much.  I know that rationally, but I still struggle with the regret that I went there.  It was where my parents really wanted me to go.  I wanted to go to JMU.  That was my dream and my dream since I was 12.  I have never told anyone that I wanted to go there since I was 12.  I remember my parents sending off the deposit for William and Mary the minute the letter arrived from them accepting me.  It was a done deal right then, and the done deal was wrong for me.  It was too close to parents.  I know that now.  I needed more distance.  I needed to grow and become the person I was to become.  Going there delayed that happening.  I have so many regrets from my young adulthood.  So many.  I lost so much time and I hate that.  Time is limited as it is.  Once it is gone it is gone.  I will never get it back.  I want it back.  What bothers me more is that I am here also watching the clock go and wasting so much of this present time I have now.  What do I want to do?  I want the perfect body.  I do.  I had it once after I had my eldest daughter.  I had it then and I want it back.  What do I have to do to get it?  Eat right.  That is where I struggle right now.  I can only exercise so much right now with my injury, but no doubt I will be back in full force once it is completely healed which is days away, I truly believe!  It is the food addiction.  So as I go through each day feeling like I cheated myself in my 20's, the irony is that I am cheating myself now, and I hate that even more.  Regrets are exhausting and I have way too many piling up on a regular basis.  They are certainly very heavy!!

Tired.

So I am tired of feeling bad about myself.  It just takes over and sets in and I just cannot escape it.  First let me say that I am not depressed.  I am not feeling bad in the depression sense.  I feel bad about how I look.  I am reading a book about relationships by one of the world's biggest experts on relationships. The biggest benefit is that it helps me figure out why certain events in my life bother me so much and what messages from my youth they reinforce.  It has been great because I know more about my emotional issues now more than ever, but it does not stop the pain and the constant worry and questioning.  I may be more in touch with how events affect my emotions BUT the pain still persists.  I hate it.  I am just tired of feeling bad about my body.  It is exhausting.  Not to mention, why does it matter so much!  That part I still clearly carry from my youth.  I am trying to take control of my eating so that maybe I can stop feeling so bad about myself.  It is just so freaking hard.  I wish that I did not have to face food every again.  It would be a hell of a lot easier.  Yes, there are days that I wish I could be anorexic and just not eat, but the reality is that then the running suffers and I care a lot about the running.  It is part of my identity now.  I hate food.  I hate all food even my favorite food.  I hate it all.  Thinking about it most days is way too stressful.  Just too stressful!!  Will I ever feel good about myself?  Will I ever accept myself as I am and not worry or care? 
By the way, the one thing NO ONE ever talks about on those weight loss shows is the skin that results from weight loss.  Yep, we all end up with loose skin.  I lost 75 pounds when I was 26 and have kept it off for 11 years now, but the loose skin that results is depressing.  Some days I feel like I would feel better heavier because then at least the skin would not be loose.  No one ever talks about it.  Rather they hide it on shows like The Biggest Loser and others.  Very annoying. 
I am just so frustrated right now.  I want food to go away.  Far, far away!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Will I ever stop obsessing over it and be able to control it?

Been a long time

I had not realized how long it has been since I posted something.  Most of my thoughts have been a bit too personal to share with anyone or anything outside of my head.  I have gotten fat in the lats two months.  Well, maybe that is not true.  I have gained 5 pounds, and to go on record, I would never say in the presence of my daughter that I have gotten fat.  It is how I feel some of the time. No one around me understands which I find more frustrating than anything.  I have no one to talk to about it.  There is no one to understand.  That 5 pounds is so small but it is huge to me.  What it represents is pretty significant too.  I feel like I am always on a mission to lose weight and let me tell you.  That is pretty freaking exhausting.  When I am trying to lose weight, I am not feeling so hot about myself which bleeds into almost every other area of my life.  It has been a hard two months. 
As is typical, I find myself falling into a winter depression.  I was hoping to avoid it this year, but as we get further into January, it becomes more and more clear that it is settling in to stay, and I hate it.  I am counting down the days until spring.  We are under 70 now.  What scares me is that I am the thinnest in the month of March historically for the year.  If that is the case this year, what does it mean for the rest of my year?  Am I to gain more weight?  To really hit my stride running, it would be helpful to lose about 10-15 pounds.  The question is, can I do it?  I can stop the binge eating and take care of myself?  Sometimes it seems like it will never happen and that depresses me even more.