vision page

my only goal for today was to make a vision page
a page of what i want to feel like when i lose weight
i can very clearly imagine the feelings i want
i don't have the supermodel body i'm striving for picked out just yet...
...just kidding...i struggle with body image, but for some reason i already know what i'll feel like

this is not the final draft, but this will go on my wall, because i need to see it every day

then i found this bit by Michael Jordan and i say "damn you," because i do quit, and i know now that i quit out of habit, and this quote has been hunting me for days now, because he is right, and because quitting has become part of my story

i also stumbled upon this gem: the pain is real, and the hurt is real, and like i was telling my husband today, i am tired of the hurt and the pain, and i do not longer wish to live this way. unfortunately for me anger is an emotion that lives on the surface way too often, due to said hurt and pain, but i know now that i can turn it into a reward. i am going to make my anger turn my hurt and pain into a reward, by not quitting.  ever.

 

 

what inspires you? what images or quotes live in your head for days before you let them out?

hmm

things that make me go hmm:

- skipping my meds
- my dinner being the largest meal of the day
- pushing away good things
- pushing away good people
- not following through
- snapping - at good people

sometimes this self-discovery/growth thing is a major pain in the ass

eyes closed

i almost always close my eyes
i almost always tip my head back

i was at work, and after using the potty i was putting my belt back on
i have two belts: one simple one that's for my pants, and a second one that is a duty belt:
hand cuff holder, radio holder, gun holster, ammo holster, flashlight
in order for the duty belt to fit over the first belt, the first belt has to be just right.

for months now i've been cinching my belts, because my waist doesn't want to get smaller
for months now i've been struggling in the locker room to get dressed
for months now i've been closing my eyes and tilting my head back so i don't have to face myself

i don't just avoid my eyes at work, i do it everywhere
when i'm in a public restroom, i gaze in awe at women checking themselves out, fixing their makeup
daring to see themselves right where they are
it's not size or race dependent, confident women do it,
women who are finding themselves,
women who are building confidence,
brave women.

i have done many exercises to help me with looking at myself in the mirror.
it has always felt awkward, i always feel like i'm seeing a stranger.
it's never really bothered me, until now
looks like a need challenge and a new chapter in my life is coming

on giving up

I do it too much,
too quickly,
too suddenly,
too often.

it is my escape,
my excuse,
the way I live.

I remember high school and college,
I remember looking for a job,
I remember accomplishing my goals.

I remember my first baby, and post partum depression
I remember the terrible feeling of being unnecessary.
I remember wanting to run away.
I remember feeling worthless.

it has been almost 5 years since my first baby,
she teaches me so much, as all babies do.
she holds me accountable for what I say and do.
she's made me apologize to her, bended on my knees, tears streaming down my face,
because I promised myself and her, I would never be like her.
a different her.

I have given up on myself some time ago,
I don't give up on anyone else.

it's not working anymore,
the giving up is not working any more.
it haunts me,
and taunts me,
and slays me inside.
I'm exposed for everyone to see.

enough

“Nothing is enough for the man to whom enough is too little.” —Epicurus

it wasn't so long ago that I was filling our house with stuff.
things I've seen on TV, in magazines, on other blogs.
I'd spend my days off going from store to store, looking for my happiness.
bag after bag into my trunk.

my happiness still sits in those bags:
unpacked, out of the way, taking up space in my mind.
I knew I was going through something, I knew I was filling a void.

see, I'm a thinker, an idea girl.
I see things, I re-imagine things, I want things.

what I don't want to do is deal with my sh*t.
I don't want to sit and think about my depression.
I don't want to deal with my food issues.
I tell myself that if I fill my days with busyness, I will be fine.
my problems will disappear, my issues won't weigh me down so much.
I will be a perfect example of someone living with depression and kicking ass.

but that's not true.
it only works for a minute.
it only works for as long as the high of the purchase "fills the void",
and then I have more issues,
because now I have many BIG bags of stuff that seemed great in the store, but I really don't have room for it.

I fill up physical space, to lessen the mental space
it doesn't work
it creates more work

know your enough in physical possessions
know your enough in matters of heart
know your enough, because we truly don't need stuff to define who we are

journey

there are days,
and moments in those days,
where I wish I could take my words back.

my apology is coming,
not just yet,
I want to feel righteous for just a second longer.

life is but a discovery of ourselves.
finding something we lost back there.

I read a quote today that made me think real hard
"You must master a new way to think before you can master a new way to be."

that is my struggle
I am mastering a new way of thinking,
but when I slip and stumble, the old way of being comes right up

this journey into myself feels like such a long one

Thoughts

I have known this before, but I fought it in my mind for years.

It is possible to like/love/be passionate about two or more things at once.
Ones career doesn't have to match their hobby.
Ones hobby doesn't have to match their chosen career.
Just because I work in law enforcement, doesn't mean my hobby has to be shooting guns, hunting, fast cars, etc.  This applies to both genders.
My chosen career is not artistic, there is no freedom, there is a lot of structure.
When I am not at work, those are all the things I crave.
It's OK for me to be a corrections officer, and also an artist.

This long known knowledge is filling me with freedom.