Tag Archives: Journal

Low Dayz

I hate days like today. The low days. Days where depression seems far stronger than I am, and drags me down like an anchor, strapped to my ankles.

I feel helpless, hopeless, pathetic, sad, angry, scared, frustrated, and overall, simply emotional. Exhausted. Overwhelmed.

I feel the pressure of all the things I need to do, weighing down my shoulders, pushing me into a slump, increasing the negativity of my current self. I know I’ll regret not working on the things I need to get done, but when I try to push those overloaded shoulders up and get to work, I find I lack the energy.

I didn’t a few hours ago. Why now? What’s changed?

My depression got a boost from my new hormone pills, and together, they’ve knocked me on my back.

I stare up at the ceiling, wondering how it came to this. I was happy; laughing; the smile on my face came so easily. I was jazzed, ready to take on the world, had a plan.

That stupid little pill, the one fixing my screwed up body, had to be taken at noon. I steeled my mind to stay positive, to keep up the same attitude and energy even after the pill’s contents had entered my blood stream.

I failed. Again. The pill is too difficult to fight when I haven’t slept well. I can’t be tired and strong – it’s too much to fight on my own.

So I fall. Just keeping my mind from sinking into darkness is a chore, and now I have to settle for a new goal for the day: breathing.

I’ll turn to God. Pray for a while, set my mind on things that will make me at least want to smile. I’ll push through, and later welcome sleep. I’ll wake in the morning, once again jazzed and ready to get everything done. I’ll take my pills at noon, and be back where I am now.

Oh, how I pray for the day my body is straightened out, where I don’t feel like this any more. Then I can be over these pills. Done with the roller coasters. Past the madness.

Until that day, I’ll simply breath.

 

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What “Follow Your Heart” Means to Me

Recently, I came across a post on Facebook, one of those memes from Word Porn (the name bugs me, but they’ve got some amazing motivational stuff posted daily, so whatevs). It was basically saying another version of “Follow Your Heart, it Knows” or something like that.

While that got me thinking a little, what really caught my attention was a guy’s comment. He said: “‘Listen to your heart, it knows.’ Hmm. I am reminded here of Jeremiah 17:9: ‘The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?’ So who’s right, the Native Americans or the ancient Israelites?”

This struck me as odd, because I do follow my heart, and I feel it’s right.

So of course, I went to Google, and searched through results for “following your heart and the bible.” Not so surprisingly, there are plenty of articles on this topic. Most say “don’t follow your heart” based on the same scripture passage above.

I challenged my own heart, and my spirit, with this view. I checked myself against it, and let myself digest it for a moment. Then I prayed about it, because the idea that following my heart is wrong, wasn’t sitting well with me. It felt twisted.

I’d like to share what I felt God explaining to me, when I asked Him about it.

True, our hearts themselves are easily manipulated, and dangerous to follow. So is our own mind. They are selfish, proud, vindictive, and all sorts of other nasty things – we’re human, that’s part of the messy package.

Thing is, when we accept Christ into our lives, He then (if you’re actually following Him) is the one leading our hearts. The Holy Spirit lives in us then, and is another voice to rival our human heart’s petty voice.

He gave me the image of something at it’s basic level – functional, but not reliable. You have to add things to it that are reliable – Jesus & The Holy Spirit – and put effort into it – learning to let Jesus lead your heart, instead of your heart leading you – in order for it to become something helpful.

Where I became so conflicted when I first looked into it today, was from the fact I don’t have a basic heart any more, and haven’t for most of my life. I’ve let Jesus lead my heart since I was 3, and I don’t remember what my heart’s basic voice is. It wouldn’t even feel like my heart, because it belongs so completely to the Lord.

So, for me, I do follow my heart. However, the base of that is, Jesus is the one leading my heart.

When I was 6, God gave me a vision that I’m like a blind child, and He is my seeing eye dog. If I rely on my own abilities, I will fall repeatedly, and fail in most things I try to do in life. With my seeing eye dog, however, I am safe. If I trust Him completely, and let Him lead me, I won’t fail, and He will catch me any time I trip.

God/Jesus/The Holy Spirit are the seeing eye dog to my heart. I see it as His, not mine. There is no part of it that’s only mine any more, so it seemed odd to me to hear people talk about it so negatively. My first thought was “Jesus lives there, how can it be so nasty?”

I do see my heart as a compass, but only because it’s led by God, and works by Jesus’s grace. I let Them influence it completely, and check everything I’m not sure about with The Holy Spirit guiding my own spirit.

Maybe this is the kind of journey the heart is meant to take. We can’t rely on anything about ourselves without God, including our hearts. That’s the whole point of a relationship with Him, and I think, the whole point of life. To build the strongest relationship possible, with our Father.

Everything should be focused on Him – our hearts, our minds, our desires, our goals, our passions, and our mistakes. When He is the center of our world, the deceit we find in the world stops poisoning us. He protects us from it, and the longer we have a healthy relationship with Him, the stronger that resistance becomes.

That’s what it means to me, anyway. I felt lead to write a post about it, and I’d love to hear what you think!

 

I Need to Feel the Burn!!

I miss working out. Dear God, how I miss it!

crying dramatic zooey dash.

First off, let me say: I know it’s no one else’s fault that I haven’t worked out much the past few years. It’s entirely my doing, so don’t think this is one of those “oh poor me” posts. It’s not.

This is a “oh dear God, I can’t take it any more!!” post.

It’s me, saying I can’t stay like this any more. I can’t pretend I am ok with my body. I’ve learned the lesson needed from it – I’m comfortable in my skin, just the way it is.

That’s just it though – I’m comfortable. Not happy.

I’m not happy.

giphy (29)

I’m the only one who’s stopped myself from working out, and I’m the only one who can start again. I know this, full and well. That’s part of what this is for me, right now. Getting it out, writing it down, seeing it physically out there. Me, saying enough is enough. Dear God, woman, pull your shit together!!!

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See, in High School, I was known as a “workout nazi” among my friends and peers. I did cross country, weight training, soccer, basket ball, and helped train the wrestling team and football team. I was a trainer, I was a fitness expert, and I was a health nut guru. I still am, at heart. I have the knowledge, I have the experience, I just don’t have the ability.

Or at least, I haven’t.

I suffer from several chronic medical conditions. Part of what drove me to become such a workout nut, was the fact I was in pain, nearly 24/7. I wasn’t in a situation where I could deal with it medically, so I simply had to push through it. I’m a bit of a pit bull/bulldog of a woman, and I don’t just sit and pout when I’m in pain. I kick ass.

strong back

Having to finally deal with my medical issues though, meant I had to stop. I had to sit still, before I killed myself from neglecting the things that were killing me. Had I not stopped and dealt with the pain instead of pushing through it, I’d be worm food right now.

I’m glad I took a break. I’m glad I listened to my amazing hubby, and got myself figured out. I’m glad that my life isn’t at risk the same way any more.

s. gomez teary eyed thank you

Having a hysterectomy in my early 20s though, was traumatic. It took nearly two years for me to recover physically from my medical stuff. It was bad enough to where just going grocery shopping took all my strength, and nearly put me in tears from the pain. If you know me, you know I don’t cry easily – bulldog, remember?

giphy (22)

Mentally and emotionally, it took me another several years to pull myself out of the hole I fell into. Having to stop working out wrecked me inside, and along with some family drama shit that never should have happened, I feel into a depression for several years. I’m just now coming out of it, with the help of God and my true family, but it’s not easy. And it’s impossible to do, if I’m not able to be physically active the way I used to be.

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Luckily, I’ve finally gotten to the point physically to where I can do the day-to-day stuff I have to, without hurting anything, or putting my fist through a wall from pain. I’ve started lightly working out, which already makes me feel like a wuss, and it does hurt.

But you know what, I can’t take it any more. I can’t sit around and wait for my body to heal. I am a slow healer either way, mainly due to some of those medical issues, and realistically, it will always hurt.

I don’t care. I’m ready to kick ass again. I need to. I have to. Otherwise, I’m going to lose my mind. I feel like my life has been put on hold, waiting for myself to heal.

monsters 2 impatient in line

I’m healed enough – I’m ready to feel the burn again. I miss it so badly, it puts me in tears. I’d rather cry from pain while actually doing something, than cry from the desire and wish that I could be doing something.

I have plenty of reasons to not. Doctors would tell me to wait. I’m a stubborn pit bull though, and I don’t care.

I want my body back. I want my six-pack abs back. I want my toned, hard body back, and the confidence that went with it. I miss myself, and my body can learn to deal with it.

confident rebellion anna kendrick

It won’t kill me, it will most likely just put me on my back a few times, before I toughen back up a bit. I’ve gotten soft, and I hate it.

If you’re still reading this, well, thank you. I appreciate the fact you care enough to read it. To be honest though, this isn’t for you – it’s for me. For me to realize I am there. I’m ready to get up and kick some ass again – mainly my own.

deal with it audrey hepburn

 

This time next year, I will not look like this. I will not feel like this. I will be back to myself again.

I’m ready – let’s feel the burn.

 

Letter to Evil:

To all those in the darkness, and anything wanting to hurt me, bring me down, or pull me from God’s path; to Satan/Lucifer/The Devil and the like, his followers, and those with evil hearts:

You can yell at me, hate me, attack me and wish me gone, but you’ll never break me. My God gives me strength, and I will press on, even if it’s just to piss you off.  I get stronger with every attack you throw at me, and you will not win, because I am already spoken for.  I belong to God, and He laughs at your attempt to sway me, as to I.

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For the next month, I will be celebrating the amazing man who can boast the Heavenly Father as His actual Father, although He never would (humble guy, Jesus 😉 ). I don’t know when He was actually born, but December is a month for Him.

My Christmas music is on, my Spirit is light, and I will be spreading God’s love anywhere I can.  While I know the attacks will increase, I take it all with a smile. I hope to piss you off; I hope you hate my guts; I hope you writhe in anger and rage, at the joy my Father gives me daily.  Every attack you throw, not only makes me stronger, but brings me closer to the God you loathe.

emma stone smile two thumbs up

So bring it on – you’re helping me turn into the diamond God made me to be.

Signed,

Your grinning enemy.

deal with it audrey hepburn

 

Why = Death of Creativity

Why?  Such a simple question.  Three little words, seemingly harmless.

In reality, that little word has the potential to unravel a person completely.  Why?

A killer, masquerading as innocent curiosity.

People are naturally creative.  We are also naturally curious.  The irony is, curiosity can kill creativity.

When you ask “Why?” the search for the answer switches you into a new mindset.  Out of creativity and imagination, you switch to logic.  Even when you’re being creative, and asking “Why” with imagination, you’re automatically introducing logic into the idea/situation/area.

Answering “Why” means you need to know the path.  You’re searching for the way something happened, the way it works.  It adds in “How” almost automatically.  The two work simultaneously most of the time, overpowering anything floating in the creative realms.  They pull an idea from the clouds, anchoring it firmly to reality, caging the once free bird.

In our life, when something happens, we almost always react with “why” or “how” adding in the other easily.  We are taught to look at the “who” “what” “when” “where” and “why” in school, and most still apply it to life.

The problem with this is, logic kills.  When things make sense all the time, there is no room for spontaneity or creativity.  Life is creativity.  It is organized chaos.  When you have too much logic, life becomes simply order.  Dull.  Lifeless.  Stressful.  Dying.  Suffocating.

When you apply that to God, you see the clear reason many people fall, fail, and walk away.  They ask “why” far too often.  We search for knowledge now, no matter what.  We look for answers, for the reasons, for the logic.  We kill ourselves searching for “truth” when the only truth that means anything, is the fact the “why” rarely ever matters.  What is, is.  God.  He is, always has been, and always will be.  He knows the why, so why isn’t that good enough?

Why can’t I simply enjoy something He’s given me?  Why must I search for answers constantly?  Why must I pick it apart, suffocating it with the obsessive need for knowledge and desire for the answer to “why” in my own head.

Cuz that’s really it – my head needs to know why, even when my heart already knows it is.  It just is.  That’s it.

I appease my own head, by suffocating my heart; drowning it in logic and a growling need for knowledge and answers.

When I stop asking “why” my spirit soars.  My mind is able to be creative once again, released from the cage of logic.  I can fly.

Why has it’s place.  On the shelf, where it needs to stay.  Only used when absolutely necessary.  A dangerous tool, best left alone.  A necessary evil.

God is creative.  His logic is the only one that matters, and I don’t need to understand it, simply trust it.  I follow Him as a child follows his father.  He is my father, and I shouldn’t question Him so much, simply trust Him.

I knew this once.  I simply did what my heart told me, without constantly asking why.  If someone else asked me why, I’d simply shrug, and say “because I felt like I should” or something equally simple.  Life was simple.  Happy.  An endless expanse of creativity and joy.  I simply lived my life, grateful to have it, enjoying every second I spent marveling at God and His creation.  Because really, He is a creator.  Creative.

Seeking “knowledge” is folly, because I’ll never truly understand God.  He is unfathomable.  His knowledge is what actually matters, and my “logic” and “understanding” is as silly as holding a candle to the sun.  It may make me feel a little better in the moment, but it’s fleeting, small, and in the grand scheme of things, meaningless.  He is constant, unmovable, and magnificent.  Why bother working His creation out in my head?  He created us to enjoy life, not pick it apart and kill it with “why” and logic.

I don’t need to know the why.  Just what is.  Him.  That’s all that matters.

I’m putting a smile on my face, my questions in the trash, shelving the “why” and following my malnourished heart.  It’s time I take my life back from the greedy seed of Why.

Ready to move on, enjoy Him, and simply live.

So, I’m sick…again…

Whoopee!  I’m sick.  Again.

Ugh.

whoopee little rascals

I’ve been getting sick more often the past several years, and it suck.  It’s not just sniffles either, no.  It’s the full blown can’t get out of bed, legs don’t want to work, I feel like I’m going to die (overly dramatic, but still) kinda sick.  Once my hormones and body settle down a bit, I’m sure that will subside a bit.  I hope.

2d88d-nervous2bfrustrated2bkesha

What sucks the most though, is the fact that my sleep deprived brain seems to take the opportunity to be depressive and cynical.  I start getting insecure about things I don’t normally worry about.  Little things become nail-biting issues.  My worry-wart-ness goes into over drive, and I start feeling like the whole world is falling apart.  At least, my world.

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Does anyone else feel like that when they get sick?  Is that normal?  I don’t know.  Maybe not.

emperor's new groove kronk eezma shrug

All I know is, that is the worst part of getting sick.  The internal emotional/mental wars that start out of no where, and make me question everything.  The little hissing voices I can normally tune out, become louder and more insistent, tearing me up inside.  I can’t seem to decide anything, and the decisions and life choice I’ve made all start to bubble up and look warped.

freaked out minions despicable me

I suppose, on a deeper level, that probably stems from the fact I’m very insecure about my life.  About myself.  I’m a timid and nervous person already, and being sick causes my mind to magnify those issues even more.

Ugh.  Maybe the real question should be, how to people live, without questioning everything all the time?  Without being nervous and worried and conflicted?  Not conflicted, I guess.  Just insecure.  How do some people seem to be so easily, comfortably secure in their life, and not worry about things like life choices or where they’re headed?  It’s astonishing to me, and I’m envious of that ability.  I need to figure out how to be like that, before I drive myself mad.

nervous gum chewing that's so raven symone

At the moment, in my sleep deprived mind, drenched in germs and a heightened sense of insecurity and self doubt, my whole life just seems warped and twisted.  Skewed and odd, and I truly wonder what God is doing with my life.  I hope He knows what He’s doing.  I mean, I’m sure He does, of course.  I guess really, I hope I’m hearing Him correctly.  And if I’m not, I hope He knows I am trying.

sad bunny b&w

Ugh.  I need a hug.  And chocolate.  And sleep.

Dancing Envy

So, I’m sick again, right?  Yeah.  Both my guys are working tonight, and I’m in bed.  Stuck between “too awake to sleep” and “feeling too crappy to walk” and/or “brain is mush, can’t think enough to work” keeping me in a state of blah.  The computer and I have spent a bit of time together today, wasting away the hours.

As I scroll through Facebook, bored and hoping for something to cheer my germ-filled body up, I come across this video:

Now, my first impression is to be impressed, obviously – wow!  They rock!  I’m overwhelmed by the smiles on their faces, and how much fun they’re having dancing together.

I start to think about how nice it would be to dance again; how much I miss it.  I remember how much energy I used to have, and how easy it was for me to do things like that.  To dance.  Move quickly and enthusiastically, using tons of energy and spreading joy.

I wonder if I’ll ever get there again.  I think about the soft layer of skin now resting over my relaxed, sick muscles.  Even when I’m healthy, I’m no where near the shape I used to be in.  I give in for a moment, to the self-loathing part of me, silently cursing my body and the things I dislike about it.

Then I merge into longing – the deep seeded desire to be able to use my body like that again.  To be fit; healthy; feeling good.

I think “Maybe it’s just that times have changed.”  Bah!  Times haven’t changed.  I’ve changed.  Or rather, my abilities have changed.

I hope I’ll get my body back soon.  I hope I’ll be able to move like that some day – smile like that some day.

I hope I’m not a coward.  Plenty of people have it worse than me, and somehow find the strength to do all sorts of great things.  Why can’t I?  What’s my excuse?  Why does my pain stop me, when my desire is so strong, and so deep, it brings me to tears.

My healing requires patience.  I’ve never been very good at patience.  We’ve had a very tense relationship over the years.  I’m looking forward to the day when I’m back in control, and not forced to submit to patience and waiting.

Til then, I’ll watch videos of people doing extraordinary things, pulled between awe and envy.

Oook, Planned Parenthood

I’ve seen so much about this controversial issue lately, and have kept my mouth shut so far.  I wanted to wait, and see what happened.  With people actually “calling” for bombings of PP facilities, and the murders of various people, I can’t sit quiet any more.

What is wrong with you people?  We are at “war” with a group of people who did those exact things to us, because they thought it was right.  We call them terrorist.  What the hell, people??  What is wrong with you?

If something is so intense, and has been so blown up that people are making public hit requests and bombing REQUESTS on internet comments, this is getting out of control.  Wait…it’s already there.  Everyone needs to chill out, and calm down.

This is the point where we would put toddlers in separate corners to cool down, before having them come back and discuss things nicely.  As adults, that’s what needs to happen with the Planned Parenthood issue.

Chill. Out.

People disagree, but when the entire argument of those opposed to PP’s actions is senseless murder, then why would murder be the right answer?  Why call for that as the solution?  No.  That’s insanity.  That’s exactly the same kind of thinking that’s gotten us in the mess we’re in as a country.

Knock it off!!

The fact is, women who decide they don’t want a child will get an abortion one way or another.  Or worse, they’ll give birth to their child, then kill it, or leave it for dead.  The problem isn’t Planned Parenthood.  They are there to help – period.  They are left with the remains of what would have been a baby, yes.  They do not force anyone to give up their fetus.

When a woman decides something, there is little that can be done to change her mind.  Yes?  We can all agree on that, I think.  Regardless of whether a pregnant woman would regret the abortion after having the baby is irrelevant – at that time, when she’s decided she doesn’t want it, that’s the end of it.  One way or another, she will get rid of that baby.  She won’t want it.  If she is then put in a position where she feels she is “forced” to keep it, she won’t care for it properly, if she lets it live.

Bottom line – it’s the parent’s choice.  It’s the mother’s choice.  Planned Parenthood is simply the place that person goes to have it done safely.  Blaming them is like blaming the doctor for giving you a shot, when you went there on your own, and asked for it.  The doctor didn’t force you – it was your choice, your request, and your money paid for it.

People are creatures of opportunity.  When these medical professionals are left with a fetus, they are forced to make a choice.  Either depose of it and call it a full waste, or try and make something good of a tragedy.  Find the silver lining in the dark cloud.   They use what they can, so that life isn’t a total waste.  The mother made her choice, but something good can come of it, if we let it.

In the end, the responsibility lies with the mother.  If PP wasn’t there, yes – women wouldn’t go there to get an abortion.  Does anyone remember Dirty Dancing?  The side story that doesn’t include the two main actors?  His previous dancing partner got pregnant, and didn’t want the baby.  She had a guy do a back-alley abortion, and it tore her up inside, leaving her for dead.

That is real.  That happens.

When those women decide they don’t want a baby, the lack of PP won’t stop them – they will do what they have to in order to get rid of it.  Coat hangers kill women who are desperate to get the fetus out of their body.  What’s even worse, is if that woman doesn’t get an abortion, and gives birth.  And the baby is left in a dumpster.  Or found in a freezer some years later.  Or in a lake.  Those things happen too, because women decide they don’t want it.

Blaming the people at PP is idiotic – it’s pointing the finger at the wrong person.  They are there to help, and are now being attacked as heartless murderers.  Wrong.

The mother makes the choice – period.  One person.  The father doesn’t even get a say.  The mother can decide it if she wants.  One person holds that responsibility, and her alone.  Attacking an organization who helps make sure that women doesn’t die from internal bleeding from a coat hanger ripping the unborn child out of her, is stupid.

In the end, that baby is going to die if the mother decides she doesn’t want it.  It’s a sad thing, but a reality for us to deal with none the less.  PP makes it humane, and at least lets some sort of good come out of tragedy.  The woman will live with her choice, but it was just that – her choice.  She is the killer – not the people she hired to do the killing.  They are there to help, and do far more good than any bad that people choose to see.

I’ve used their services, and am happy with them.  They help, and were the first people to actually give a shit about me as a woman.  They cared.  They were there to help, and did far more than they needed to.  They aren’t heartless – they are some of the kindest people I’ve ever met.

Stop calling for the killing of people just doing their jobs.  If you want Planned Parenthood closed, fine.  It’s a mistake, but so are a lot of our choices.  Don’t make the mistake of calling for more death – more destruction – more tragedy.  THAT is senseless killing.

Peace begins in our hearts.  Start there, then start changing the world.

Random Truth Tuesday

Hiya!  How are you?  Doing well, I hope 🙂

I’m starting something (that may already be out there, I don’t know.  If it is, awesome.  It’s a new idea to me, so I don’t care) called Random Truth Tuesday.  Basically, since Thursday is already taken for #TBT, Tuesday seems like a good day for truths.

I doubt I’ll post every single Tuesday, but I’ll certainly try.

So!  First Truth:

I have dreamt of being a published author since I was two, but am terrified of actually accomplishing that dream.  Now that I’m closer than I ever have before, I’m having to overcome personal hurdles of fear and anxiety, which constantly try to cripple my creativity, and ability to write well.  I now hold tightly to the day when I publish my first book, laugh in the face of my fear, and continue to scribble away at silly stories.

Hormone Therapy Sucks

Perimenopause and Menopause in your 20s sucks.

Body changes that happen during menopause/perimenopause suck.

Only truly relating to mostly women over half my age sucks.

Searching for remedies recommended for those women sucks.

Surpassing my mother in body issues sucks.

Feeling old in my body sucks.

Not being able to change it sucks.

My skin and hair issues suck.

My body flucuations sucks.

Hot flashes suck.

The weight roller-coaster sucks.

The hormone roller-coaster sucks.

Hormone pills every day sucks.

No one understanding, expecting, or knowing what to say sucks.

Knowing I’ll be living with this for the rest of my life sucks.

Being scared of what I will feel like when I’m 50 sucks.

Hating my body sucks.

The pain sucks.

Everything else I’m dealing with besides the premature perimenopause/menopause (the issues that caused it) sucks.

But mainly, it’s not having a choice about it, that really sucks.

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