I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Saturday morning. One year ago today, I started this site as a way to try to make some sense of the chaos in my life. So much has changed since then and yet, I find myself in very much the same place. How does that happen?
I was/am alone, frustrated by my unwillingness to do anything about my weight and health, and upset because my life was/is so empty of meaning. I made significant strides in each of those areas in the past 365 days, but have let the gains that I made slip through my fingers like so much sand. I worked hard to do the things that I did, and yet they're gone and I can't get them back, I can only go forward.
What has changed since April 3, 2003? This journal. I had no readers, although I affectionately/derisively wrote as though I did. I don't think that I had a single reader until, possibly, June, but I still tried to write on a regular basis just because I wanted to get in the habit of writing again and because it felt so good and right to do so. Now, I feel a real sense of pride when I think about what I've accomplished. No, I'm not one of those sites with 100,000 hits in its first year and hundreds of links from other sites, but I have a site with a great design (thanks Dianne!), engaged readers with whom I interact every day, and content that continues to improve as I dust off my long-dormant creative writing skills. In fact, the writing that I've done here has helped me feel a lot better about myself and about my own worth, which was, as I recall, one of my hopes when I first put words to dialog box last year. Not bad for a girl who didn't even know HTML, huh?
So, thank you to anyone that is reading this. It still blows my mind that there are total strangers, people that I've never met, that are interested enough to come here everyday and read what I have to say. Amazing. What a great gig this is! I'm ready for the next year, are you? Let's go.
Friday evening. I have twice today been prompted to think about Shame and the role it plays in my life.
Shannin writes about her embarrassment over a habit that she isn't able to control as well as she'd like. I can so completely relate to this because of my binge eating problems. The embarrasment and shame that I feel about my inability to control my eating wounds me deeply because it's self directed. No one is ever as cruel to me as I am to myself, and how horrible is that? It is also self perpetuating, feeding on itself and growing with each hateful thing I think about myself. The worst part, I think, is the way that my shame drives me to hide my eating from the world, because that just further isolates me, and isolation is a potent fertilizer for someone who is ashamed of themselves to begin with.
After reading Shannin's entry, I went over to JuJu's place and she challenged all of us to identify how shame and embarrassment are stopping us in our lives. Gosh, my entire life is surrounded by shame and/or embarrassment. The fact that I'm still single. The fact that my house is a pigsty. The fact that I don't read enough real books. The fact that I don't weigh 125 pounds. The fact that I eat compulsively, as though the food is about to be snatched from me. The fact that I am terrible about keeping up with far away friends. And on and on. How is this stopping me? How is it not stopping me? I don't go out unless I absolutely have to. At social events for work, I stick with my friends and never mingle outside of those whose acceptance I am already certain of. I don't want to meet new people because I'm afraid they won't like me because of how I look and that hurts too much. I mean, I don't like me, so why should they. I am ashamed of who I am and how I look, and that shame frames every part of my interaction (or lack thereof) with the world.
Look at the words themselves: "embarrassment" and "shame" are so powerfully negative that they wither our core being each and every time we apply them to ourselves. I know that, for myself, it's as though I'm an animal, shrinking from the angry hand of my owner. I want to just curl up somewhere safe and not think or feel or hurt, which, of course, just perpetuates the problem. Isolation is the worst thing for someone who is convinced of their own worthlessness because there is no counterpoint to that opinion, no one to remind us of the wonderful qualities that we possess. That same isolation also perpetuates the cycle, leading us back to our comfort zones of self destructive behaviors.
What things am I not doing with my life because I'm ashamed of myself? * I'm not walking outside because I'm ashamed of how huge my stomach is * I'm not going to Bible study at my church or even staying for coffee after services because I'm ashamed of how I look * I'm not going to Curves, which I just joined, because I'm too ashamed to have everyone see how uncoordinated and fat I am * I haven't been to the doctor yet this year because I'm ashamed of my weight gain since last year and the fact that I've let my diabetes get out of control again * I haven't found any volunteer opportunites because I'm ashamed of how fat and ugly I am and I don't think anyone would want me to be part of their organization
JuJu also asks us to consider what we can do to help others overcome their shame and embarrassment. I honestly don't know the answer to that one. I can't seem to do it for myself, much less others. Perhaps, though, through the simple act of sharing our stories, we start to chip away at the voice inside each of us that tells us we're the only ones, that we're freaks of nature because we are who we are and we feel the way we do. Just as a single pebble can create ripples that reach across a lake, maybe each of has the ability to create ripples in the lives of someone we've never met, through our writings and the things that we share. Could it be that shining the bright light of introspection into our own lives could strengthen the resolve of others in need?
I'm going to close with the words of Ellen Stovall:
"With communication comes understanding and clarity; With understanding, fear diminishes; In the absence of fear, hope emerges; And, in the presence of hope, anything is possible."
Thursday afternoon. Last night, while watching "West Wing" (not doing the laundry!), I lazily started thinking about what I want to do with myself, where I want to be in 10 years, and what brings me True Joy. This is tougher than you might think.
Joy is not just the absence of being unhappy. It's not necessarily being "happy", either. Joy is that feeling that starts in your toes and works it way through your body, warming and enlivening every fiber. It fills you up such that, sometimes, it's just too much to bear. That is Joy and it's not something that I've felt much in my life.
Suddenly, as I sat there watching the actors on my favorite show, I realized how simple the answer really was. As anyone who knows me in my real life knows, my dream job is to be the White House Chief of Staff (Leo on "West Wing"). I love politics. I love articulating and formulating policy, I love the energy of managing crises, and I love the idea of being able to make people's lives better. I do some of that (especially managing crises), but it just isn't enough for me any more. I want more.
So, I made a decision: I want to become a professional political operative again! Once the decision was made, the wheels started rolling along at an amazing clip. I called a few friends from my political days to get their input for a good place for me to start and found that one of our candidates for Mayor is looking for a Deputy Policy Director. I did some work for this same candidate when I was still in college, so I took a chance, gave his office a call, and asked if I could come over for an interview this afternoon. After digging through my closet to find a suit, stockings, high heels, and appropriate briefcase, I was off. I got a few interesting looks here at work because I haven't ever worn stockings, nor my suit, but I just laughed and said that I had nothing else to wear (not a lie, I might add). The interview went incredibly well. The candidate did remember me and stopped by to say hello, and, well, they offered me the job. Wowee!
It's less money than I'm making now and no benefits, and I don't care. I told them that I'd think about it and let them know, but I already know what I want. I'm getting ready to walk into my boss' office with my resignation letter, offering two weeks' notice, and then I'm going to go out and celebrate.
Oh, and I forgot to mention the best part. The campaign doesn't need me to start for another month, so I'm cashing in all of my stock options and heading to the Lake Austin Spa Resort for two weeks!!! WoooHooo. Before I go, though, it's Nordie's time! I need suits, more pumps, more business-like jewelry, and a new briefcase. You know, I think I can write that all off as business expenses, too. OK, probably not the Lake Austin part, but the new clothes and accessories.
******************* Update: Everything except the first three paragraphs is total hooey, hogwash, and a mean old April Fools' joke. I can't believe anyone really thought I was crazy enough to quit my job for an uncertain future with no benefits (and cash in all of my stock options, too). Wow, perhaps I need to hang out with you guys more often so that I can become bolder!!!
Wednesday evening. I truly hope that you did not come here expecting something interesting or enlightening today. If I promise to snap out of my stress- and sorrow-induced fog soon, will you come back tomorrow to see if it's happened? Please???
I could very easily have titled today's post "Work", because that's all that I have been about today. I'm starting to feel really overwhelmed but my boss is in it even worse than I am and there's just no one here to hand it off to right now. This isn't, technically, our busy season, but you'd never know it from the managers' workloads. This is planning, budget, and project resourcing season and it is not my favorite time of year. Lots of playing with the project estimator spreadsheet. Lots of talking to (internal) customers about projects they want us to commit to before we've even had a chance to run through any numbers on how much time it will take us. Lots of coordinating our department's efforts to finish up action items from a recent conference. Too much stuff, not enough time. Simple, really.
When you combine that with not enough exercise and not so good eating, it's just not a pretty picture, folks. Oh yeah, and did I mention that I still haven't done any laundry since I got home from Vegas? Ugh! I have to do at least a load of it tonight or face having, literally, nothing to wear tomorrow.
On the positive side, my friend, Tracy, and I are planning a trip to a health spa and, possibly, a side trip to LA, over the week before Memorial Day. I cannot wait! I am going to have a massage and a facial and take long walks around town and in the hills in the morning and sleep the peaceful, dreamless sleep of the just and the tired. Come on May!!!
Tuesday evening. Several of you have written to ask the tough question: So, Denise, you're talking a lot about everything except how you're doing, so...how are you doing? The answer to that question is not simple, but then, I guess, neither is Life.
I sometimes go a few hours without thinking of Chris and, I suppose, that's progress. I haven't gone on a crying jag in a week, although I've come close several times. (Watching "Under the Tuscan Sun" while mourning the loss of a love and nurturning your budding self reliance: not such a good thing.)
That said, however, I still have a pain in my chest whenever noon, 4:30, or 9:15pm come around, because the phone no longer rings and I am no longer able to hear his deep, rich voice calling me Sweetheart. I simply cannot bring myself to box up the Kissing Bears that came with my roses on Valentine's Day, nor the wooden plaque that he carved for me that says, "I love you, Sweetheart," nor the card that came with my roses which bears his name and his love for me. I can't help, occasionally, indulging in "what if?": what if I'd gone out to visit when I was supposed to last month, would my fears have been allayed? What if I were less willful, less willing to submit myself to someone else? What if I'd followed up on the job that I probably could have gotten in Raleigh, NC (about five hours drive, definitely do-able for his family)? And the most haunting question of all: what if you'd just kept your mouth shut and been happy with the wonderful life you had? The answer always comes back to me, though: you didn't, you weren't, and this is where you are now.
To answer the original question, though: I'm happy, I'm sad, I'm lonely, I'm energized, I'm sorry, I'm relieved, I'm scared, and, most of all, I'm still here.
Monday morning. No work for me today, so it's going to be a productive one, I hope. I need to go grocery shopping, get laundry done, vacuum and mop every walking surface in the house, and walk for 30 minutes. The walking is definitely going to have to wait until after the sun goes down because it's supposed to be in the 80s here at the coast today and I don't do anything over 75 (at the very most).
My baby girl kitty, Abby, started favoring one of her hind legs yesterday, and it has me worried. She definitely not in any pain (she's eating, playing, cleaning herself, and going up and down the stairs), and I've been surreptitiously poking and prodding her legs to see if anything hurts, with no results, so I'm not really sure what's up. I hesitate to take her to the vets because she is so skittish and frightened by everything except her routine that it would hugely traumatize her. Mom and my suspicion is that she's got something in one of her rear paws that's irritating it and I'm never going to be able to look at those because she won't let me pick her up, so, if that's the case, there's no help for it except to go to the vet. This will not be a fun thing for either of us.
Oh, and the quote I mentioned in the title of today's post? It came from the movie "What a Girl Wants". (Cut me some slack, it was a cute movie!!!) Anyway, the quote is, "Why are you working so hard to fit in when it's so obvious that you were meant to stand out?" I really love that quote.
