Last Year At This Time...What A Transition

I fight with Facebook a lot. Some days it is trigger city and other days I can appreciate it. I've taken it, and messenger completely off my phone all for the better. As I've said before, I much prefer Instagram, as I think Instagram is a more positive environment for someone like me, but this morning Facebook for "On This Day," brought up selfie from a year ago. Creepily enough I'm wearing the exact same shirt but now I have much longer hair. I'm also not nearly as tired looking. This is the comparison shot:

                             This day, 2018                    Today, 2019


I spent some time last week discussing comparisons of some then and now. What my marriage was then, versus now. Behavior then, versus now. We were spanning all different kinds of time frames and I said that comparing like that could be okay, even helpful in some arenas, but was also huge trigger territory.

That picture was taken just before the beginning of the worst being turned into something good, but something I could have never foreseen. In March of 2018, I tried to stand up for myself and take some of my life back. I knew I had lost my way and decided it was time to be a better mother, better person, and better household pillar, to say the least.

I was stopped dead in my tracks with every indication of "No," without being told the actual words "no." My efforts were detoured completely and I felt defeated and inferior. 

I had planned to do two hours of boot camp each morning to get back into shape when my husband decided to take a second job. As finances will always cause us friction, his reasoning was, "we always need more money, you're always saying we can't afford stuff." It was not an unfair point, but I was reluctant. I sucked up all my opposition and upset, all of my judgments about the decision and negative feelings and said "okay."

It was the worst month and a half we've had in a long time, and one that completely broke me down to the point of making unfair choices and decisions, and of taking a stand for my daughter, and for myself. 

In that month I watched my husband struggle and spiral out of control. Suddenly the new job meant he needed a car. Suddenly his friend had a car for him to procure at a fair price, which wasn't worth any form of "waiting" or negotiation. It was "take the car to my mechanic, get the okay" and drive away with new wheels into the sunset. We had successfully car-shared for 9 years and couldn't afford two vehicles, but this wasn't up for discussion in all this. For me, it was the cart before the horse and I was internally screaming and physically sobbing through the stress.

The car, to me, was the catalyst. Once the taste of freedom came, it was too good to be true and I watched as it snowballed. His second job was from 6AM to 12PM then he'd work from 1PM to midnight or later. This was all some seemingly weird power play to prove his worth at his current job, but to threaten that he could leave at any time.

Because he had to work at 5AM I was stripped of my Boot Camp routines, which crushed me. I'd been taken away from having any time to work out. My trainer knew how much I needed Boot Camp and let me come in from 4:45AM to 5:15AM before anyone else really arrived to complete the daily workout. It was brutal. And I missed normalcy. I did everything alone from getting my daughter fed and ready, making lunches, dropping her off and then some. It was difficult, lonely and had levels of unfriendly feelings coming at me regularly. 

I think I cried at least once a day. When he got the car I had to hide my meltdown. It wasn't that he wasn't "allowed" to have one. It was that we couldn't afford it, even with a second job. And not being able to have that rational conversation was upsetting to me. 

I remember taking that selfie and feeling so tired and broken and just thinking, "Okay so this is just my life now. This is what's in front of me." True to form I cried in private and hid everything away. My mom was helping us with transportation before the new-to-him car appeared and was also complaining and frustrated with everything, taking it out on me. 

I hit my final wall at 3AM on a dark night with my little girl right next to me telling me it would all be okay. I'd hit the point of "shit or get off the pot," for lack of a better phrase. I stood up, firm and wasn't about to hear "no" this time. I put my foot down and finally had my say. 

The second job faded as soon as he got a salaried position at his current job, the means to an end I guess. It was then that I took my life back. In May, I set up new childcare for the summer, which would involve hubby taking my daughter every morning, and he'd never taken her to school or childcare before.
I then commissioned my mom to do two evenings a week allowing me to hit the new gym I'd signed up for, in addition to my boot camp being back in full swing.

I look at that picture of me being a tired, mom and soldier and I feel so bad for 2018 Alison. Man, you went through some shit, and mostly alone. My soul looks beaten to hell in that selfie, but my head was still held high and the ferocity was waning. Damn did I prevail, though.

It was honestly more than just that month, it was so many years coming to fruition in the culmination of one, really horrible month. It was all very well dressed in "okayness." It was the epitome of my life as I knew it and I just had that Queen Daenerys Targaryen moment of "I'm going to break the wheel." If I could have used my dragons to set things on fire, I would have. It was time for the "new world."

What's even better is this "new world," and new cycle with a broken wheel rather than a stopped one, is still so new. It often feels new and fragile. But you look at that picture of last year versus this year and not just the hair has changed. Okay, yes I also got glasses, but there is a part of me that can't help see the transition within me. Like, look at the ferocity coming back and that air of resilience; everything I've been writing about!

I've been feeling mentally heavy and exhausted lately but it pales in comparison to last year. What an amazing reminder! Think of what I've overcome and look at the growth outside of the hair length! It's kind of impressive! I'm not saying this to brag or gloat, I'm just saying that we often don't realize it until we see a selfie like that. It's hard to see such change until these things happen to fall onto our "timeline," or "timehop" or whatever.

Since Friday I've struggled with staying grateful and just how wobbly I've felt with general life goings on. That selfie coming up, is just such a gift. It showed me that I am in fact progressing as a work in progress and that while I've felt so impotent in my ability to speed things up and keep pushing, I'm working at it better than I think I am.

A year really can do a lot for a person. You see those quotes and pin them and post them but no, LOOK, just look at that picture again. A year can do more than you can ever imagine. I'm not even about to say "things are just so much better now." We are far off from blanket statements like that, but I can say that the growth and transition is palpable, and I'm so glad I saw it in the flesh more accurately. 

For those of you feeling stuck or like you haven't accomplished what you thought you should, comb through some pictures and it may help you see the transition. It's not all cupcakes and rainbows. I'm not healed, cured or "everything is perfect now," but I'm much better off. Sure I'm still as sassy as ever but I really think the then and now says it all. 

Bye Bye Boot Camp; The End Of An Era

On February 1st, 2014 I started my journey with Boot Camp at Bayside. We were living in Westchase and I was, for lack of a better word, overweight. My daughter had just celebrated her 1st birthday and I was ready to get my fitness back.

I used to LOVE the YMCA, and I tried to go back, but unfortunately I had a bad experience with their daycare, and I needed to find something to do when my husband was home. At this time, I was working from home, overnights between 12AM and 6AM. I was usually only scheduled from about 12 to 3 or 4, so I had time before my husband left for work at 10AM or 12PM to make sure I could sneak in a workout before he left or even better, before the baby got up. 

I was super active on Facebook in groups like Westchase Swap and Shop and Westchase Garage Sale, so I started looking for an alternative to some expensive gym with not great class times and someone suggested Boot Camp at Bayside, hosted just over the Oldsmar bridge in wonderful, Safety Harbor. I messaged the person in charge and he said they were having a Saturday workout to come and try it, see if it fits.

So, the day of my daughter's 1st birthday party, I went at 7AM to try it out. I could barely keep up and had multiple wardrobe malfunctions; I was not used to fitness including "mom boobs." I made it through and was invited to come right back on Monday morning at 6:15AM. We took this picture at her party that same afternoon when the soreness was kicking in.

I made it back Monday for a workout called "Island Party" and there was no party about it. I pushed myself, but my trainer eventually cut me off from all the running laps. It was grueling and hard, but the great thing about Boot Camp was it was a workout for every fitness level. You had moms like me, guys that were super athletic and didn't want to deal with the gym, runners, cross-fit fans, and everything in between.

I was a good 50 pounds heavier than when I got pregnant and I'd never been so big. It was time to get to work. It was not an easy 3 month start, but what was great was you started to get to know the people you worked out with too. It was a whole different thing than the gym. I spent the first year of Boot Camp in the 6:15 class and my trainer introduced me to something called, "Savage Race," which I did my first one of just 6 months later. That was so difficult. I barely jogged in between the obstacles and I certainly couldn't do all the obstacles but I got muddy and had fun.

It was also during this time period that an older boot camper heard me talking about working overnight and then coming to boot camp. He said, "You are home all day with the baby, you work from 12AM to 4AM and then come to boot camp at 6:15AM, 3 days a week?" He asked me if my husband could stay home with the baby if I worked during the day shift and said, "We might be able to find you something that works with your schedule," and handed me a business card to a car dealership.

I went in for an interview and was hired; and it was all because of Boot Camp. By the end of 2014, I had a new job, was down at least 30 pounds, had finished one Savage race, was training for another in 2015. I was ready to keep working hard. 

When I got the job at the dealership and decided I wanted to get much stronger, I started going to the 5:15AM Boot Camp class, which was much faster and more dedicated than those in the 6:15AM class. Then I started doing 2 hours of Boot Camp to train for Savage Race, and jog on my days off. I ran 2 Savage Races in 2015, March and October, and the March one was my best because I didn't get super sick after all that exertion, which was good. I sure had cold, muddy fun though!

I was super fit and having a great time, working normal hours and becoming myself again. I started to get to know everyone in my boot camp better. I met a lot of local moms and got to know my trainer to the point where I watched his kiddos from time to time and think he just might consider me a friend. When 2015 ended I was doing great and we had just moved into Safety Harbor, also with the help of Boot Camp, who recruited the Bayside Men's Group to help haul, load and unload. We provided bagels and coffee.

Boot Camp became a staple in my life. It was just always there. And I knew enough people in the group that we would always check in on each other and keep each other motivated. If you missed too many boot camps and weren't on vacation, you'd hear about it. You could be at the store and run into someone asking if you were okay, you could be on Facebook posting funny gym memes, or my favorite, in traffic and a Boot Camper pulls up next to you shouting about where you were that morning. It's a family.

I met most of my closest mom friends in Boot Camp, and in 2016, Boot Camp literally was our saving grace when we got into the car accident. In June 2016, a Wednesday morning after boot camp, and on my way to my job at the dealership, we got into a nasty car accident that put us all into the hospital, 2 out of 3 of us had severe injuries.

My boot camp mom squad and I used to have a morning Facebook group chat with, knew I was always quick to respond to anything. That morning they'd heard nothing from me and they knew something was wrong. One of my boot camp mom friends, and someone who I consider a mentor, beat us to the hospital when I called her to come help. And when my trainer checked in on us, I made a snarky comment about all we need is lots of money, and he took up a boot camp collection the next morning. He also showed up with a bunch of hand me down toys for my kiddo and helped us arrange anything we needed.

My boot camp family got me clothes for the hospital. Boot Campers bought us a new bed for our recovery because our old one wouldn't work. They CLEANED MY FILTHY HOUSE while we were in the hospital. They set up food delivery of casseroles and bought my kiddo toys and projects for her recovery. They donated gift cards, pizza money, spending cash and one mom even stocked my fridge with beer. They checked in often and I can now reveal, you boot campers made my big husband cry because I was so lucky to know you all. We even had a friend mow our lawn every two weeks for 2 months because my husband's shoulder was messed up.

Boot Camp at Bayside has helped me become healthy in more ways than one. And, sadly, Friday is the last day. This is not just for me; two weeks ago my trainer announced that the church no longer wished to host our morning routines and he would be looking into alternatives. While he has other plans in motion, the 5:15AM class days are officially over. 

This hit me really hard because no matter what over the past few years, Boot Camp was just there. It was a kind of "home base" for fitness and friendships. It was insanely affordable, comfortable and you worked out with your friends who were like family. No matter what our personal lives threw at us, we had boot camp. It didn't matter if you gained weight, ate too much, or had a bad week, people would encourage you and push you a little bit more to do better. 

In 2018 I joined another gym in addition to boot camp to get back into cycling and boot camp was still my most consistent routine. When you've been waking up at 4:45 for 4 years, you kind of get used to it. And even with weight fluctuations, I've kept a good 40 pounds off and stayed strong.

 

Closing Boot Camp at Bayside was a depressing announcement and he got a lot of people talking to him about, well what next? For me, it just broke me that the family I had known so well wouldn't congregate anymore. Sure you can always change up a routine, and you won't lose the relationships but Boot Camp is a GREAT workout! And even the workouts of the day I "hate" are still good for me! It's the end of an era!

Friday is my last day of 5:15AM Boot Camp at Bayside with all of my favorite people and I may actually cry. How do you say goodbye to something so simple, that completely changed your life for the better? Boot Camp kicked my butt into losing weight, and got me back into church to meet amazing people and helped me find job opportunities and direct me to where I belong. Boot Camp was my stability and a rock of fitness; always dependable. It will be missed. That may even be an understatement

While I'm super glad my trainer is moving onto new things, there is a part of me that will always be sad that it couldn't last forever but what is that saying, "Nothing good can stay?"

The memories and workouts will always be there, and the friendships will definitely outlast the Boot Camp at Bayside legacy. 

So for my year of 34, it might not have Boot Camp but it certainly has new challenges and positive changes. So Friday morning we will say goodbye to our Boot Campers and close the book on a pretty big fitness chapter. I will definitely be in mourning though, because losing this routine is a huge hit, but if Boot Camp left me with anything, it's the ability to work through it all, especially physically!

It's Not All Bad

One of my favorite quotes from my all time favorite movie, "The Princess Bride," which rings true regularly is, "Life is pain, highness, anyone who says differently is selling something."

I think we can all agree that life is hard. EVERYONE has completely different challenges, trials and things that make it difficult for them. Everyone handles those difficulties differently. There is physical pain, mental pain, people being a pain. Everyone has something different that makes life a little harder.

I've started to wish that I was brave enough to just lay it all out for the world to see, like "Okay, this is what has actually, truly, legitimately been going on, and it's kind of been really shitty." But that unashamed honesty can be unwelcome and it definitely can give you quite the stigma, or so I have experienced previously. 

With my last two jobs I felt emotionally cornered into making unfair choices. A lot of this came from really difficult personal life circumstances, but in both cases, rather than fight for something I was unsure of and lay all my cards out on the table, I just decided to fold and take the loss. I wish I could have had a heart to heart with each employer and apologized for my home life affecting my work, but I also think I wasn't meant to stay in those positions long term anyway so I kind of let life just figure that one out and did what I could with what I had. 

That is my exact coping mechanism I may have just mastered; when you can control almost nothing and the decisions have been made without you, you have to make the best of what's in front of you. It's all we can do, right?

I think admitting that life is really rough, and that sometimes bad things just happen, is something we don't want to say out loud for fear of coming across as weak or unable to handle things, or maybe that's just me. I've said time and time again, I pride myself on my ability to keep it together and never let them see me break. I may have a good late night cry, or even a lunch time car cry session, but I always pull myself together before I'm back in the public view.

It would be nice if "mental health days" were a real thing and we could call our bosses and say, "I really need to color, take a nap, and watch 4 hours of Friends today, I'll be back in tomorrow." But, for now, we kick up our self care and coping mechanisms and remind ourselves "it's not all bad." It's actually not ALL bad. So much of life is a blessing, but I also don't want to take away from the fact that we all have real, personal, and sometimes unfair turmoil going on.

With that, I wish we could be kinder to each other. About 4 months ago, in what I consider to be an "anxious relapse," I let myself get talked into a tizzy over something really stupid. It felt huge at the time, but it really was dumb. You see, I'm that person that works diligently on being unconditionally understanding. People have real lives and a million things going on and it's not for me to add anything to anyone else's plate, I'm just there to offer for whatever they may need. But I let myself take things too personally as though, the lack of responsiveness was due to "hating me," "ghosting me" or "un-friending me." 

In my experience, when people are going through rough times, the best thing you can do is listen to their answer and asking "how can I help?" Then find some way to do it. Maybe it's a ride somewhere, a gift certificate to Publix, money for pizza or leaving their favorite beer in their fridge when you stop by to check in. Sometimes it's a card that says, "you're doing awesome considering things kinda suck right now" or other times it's a simple text of "I know how busy you are, but I'm here if you have time to chat or to schedule time to hang out."

The thing is, and I think even Taylor Swift sang it once, "That you don't know, what you don't know." So I think we should all work harder to be a little kinder and gentler to people. I post a lot on Instagram pictures of quotes, inspirational words and even just phrases that affect me in some way. Sometimes they say "Hey I'm having a bad day," others signify, "Been there before;" some are funny, some are dark, and rarely I'll even sneak an inside joke in there. 

Everyone has their shit, I like to say. But at the end of the day, life isn't all bad, and we need to remind each other of that when we are struggling. I have found myself getting caught up in technological whirlwinds of never returned text messages, unresponsiveness or miscommunication and taking a big step back from it all has made me feel more receptive to essentially being a better friend and person. 

It's really easy to see all the happy posts and cute pictures and write people off as having "perfect lives," "perfect vacations," and "better circumstances," or "easier lives" than yourself. You never see pictures of the bad times, right? I had to work really hard on not succumbing to those negative twinges and now thinking, "Wow, that looks awesome, good for them!" Because I never got anything from feeling like life was all bad, but I get everything from appreciating more and more that everyone deserves to enjoy a little good.

I've paid close attention to people recently and I am consistently in awe of our capacity to persevere. We are a resilient bunch, especially us wives and mothers, in my humble opinion. It takes a lot for us to really speak enough to be heard and it takes even more to be loud enough for things to resonate but when we do, we make waves. As someone who generally believes women don't think much of her, I've found in motherhood that we are far more similar than we are different, and when we open up and let our guards down a little, we get even stronger as a bunch.

When I've been at my lowest, I've had plenty of people remind me, it's not all bad, and I'll be damned if I don't do the same thing for them. Because the thing that makes it worse, is when we try and push through it alone. The Beatles didn't write all those hits about love and togetherness for us to learn nothing. So if you start your week with this, let us remember to get "By with a little help from my friends," and encourage them when they are feeling immersed in the darkness, that it's not all bad after all. 

Drama Or Trauma? Is There A Fine Line?

Merriam Webster defines trauma as: 

1a: an injury (such as a wound) to living tissue caused by an extrinsic agent

b: a disordered psychic or behavioral state resulting from severe mental or emotional stress or physical injury

c: an emotional upset

2: an agent, force, or mechanism that causes trauma

Merriam Webster defines drama as: 

1aliterature : a composition in verse or prose intended to portray life or character or to tell a story usually involving conflicts and emotions through action and dialogue and typically designed for theatrical performance 

b: a movie or television production with characteristics (such as conflict) of a serious playbroadly : a play, movie, or television production with a serious tone or subject

2literature : dramatic art, literature, or affairs

3a: a state, situation, or series of events involving interesting or intense conflict of forces

b: dramatic state, effect, or quality

Interesting isn't it? So here we are, all educated and I'm going to reveal what may come out as some serious stupidity on my part: I had to be told that what I had been through was actually "trauma" and not just personal "drama."

As women we are often painted as "dramatic" or "drama queens." We are told to "Save the drama for your mama." It's all a little ridiculous. Look at that definition - "a state, situation or series of events involving interesting or intense conflict of forces." What is trauma? "An emotional upset."

Is the difference simply all that pop culture conjecture that people "thrive on drama," or are "surrounded by drama" because it is "interesting, intense conflict," and that trauma is just "emotional?" 

See when I faced my "trauma," for me, I had just labeled it, "Yeah, I've seen some shit," or "Sometimes bad things just happen," but it was brought to my attention that my intense conflict of forces, if you will, had caused some emotional upset.

It would be easy to say there is a fine line; easy to act as though they coincide. Maybe in some ways they do, but here is what I want to share: my trauma is not drama to peak your interest.

The other day I said you have to "know your audience." Some people love gossip and they can't wait to hear about the trials of others. They will enjoy when you share hardships. Guess what? I've been there, when my drama was a facade for the trauma, that was me.

Also, focusing on the problems of others is a great way to ignore your own. More true cliches coming your way readers!

I'm still owning and confronting my traumas. Some are more palatable than others. The car accident? That is trauma people can get behind and the story is pure, grade A dramatic. When you start talking about marriage challenges, addiction, alcoholism, parenting, money, and family troubles, your audience shrinks and sometimes that is too much trauma and not enough drama. 

Sometimes I do feel completely dumb that I never saw the difference in the two. Sometimes I understand why I'd avoided it all this time because now I see everything is heavy and uncomfortable. 

I've found that now, when I try to explain my trauma, strange triggers come out or I lose control of my emotions trying to describe what situations were like. I remember telling a close friend something I found humiliating and being met with silence in response to what I had just revealed. Immediately, as if a reflex, I said "I'm sorry, this is stupid I shouldn't even talk about it." The retort? " It's not dumb, stop being so hard on yourself. I'm just listening."

What is that quote and cliche about we do not listen to hear, we listen waiting to respond? Something like that? Yeah, drama, trauma...listening and how we respond; the differences can be intense, right?

Confiding in ANYONE is so difficult. Confiding in someone you don't want to look "bad" in front of or you fear "judgment" from? If you're like me you've gotten used to just staying quiet. Why rock the boat?

Okay, enough on the soapbox right? Here is the point. We write things off as drama. How many things are we writing off that are a form of a cry for help? When I got called out as a hater a few years ago, I know understand it was just me getting angry at the world because my personal situation was spinning. Complaining and being snarky was my way of trying to ask for some support. Epic fail. 

When I've been told to be careful with the "struggling posts" and talking about what I'm going through? There is some merit to that but perhaps I'm just trying to let ANYONE else know that, guess what, your trauma is more than just drama, and you're not alone.

This isn't to say that you just sit there and let people dump their problems on you and listen when your friend is being irrational or even really insensitive. This is to say that in the midst of the drama, you take a moment to consider the trauma that may be behind that veil, no matter how thin. Let's let a friend vent and practice really listening. Because if you aren't equipped to take it ALL in, you can support that person to talk to a pastor, a counselor, therapist, etc., etc! But the difference between trauma and drama is quite a lot, don't get it twisted!

Please comment, DM me or email me if you'd like to talk more about this, I'd be happy to share some more personal experiences in an effort to help any reader!

Sometimes You Just Need A Nap

I saw this meme that I'm promptly posted that said "I feel like I'm tired already tomorrow." This is me. Always.

Now I thought this was just a part of me as a person. Sleep is my favorite hobby. Alison needs her sleep. I also figured I lost enough sleep during infancy and working nights that now I was just trying to hoard it. Now we know I have thyroid type issues. Or so they surmise thus far. I blame that.

Being resilient doesn't come without waves of exhaustion. My post yesterday was in an exhausted stupor, which some of my faithful readers probably picked up on. And this morning was more "go go go."

Look, I haven't practiced "The Art Of Doing Nothing," since I became a mother. That luxury is not one afforded. And my abilities or even inabilities to relax come in waves. Sometimes my body literally is like, "Bitch you're going to slow down, watch."

This week was a shoulder injury, lots of fun, so heating pad time is a daily routine. I'm still nursing it. And then staying up too late every single night finally caught up to me. Last night I thought I was super clever. I took an Excedrin PM and was asleep by 9:30PM! But then from 11:30PM to about 4AM I was awakened every hour or so by child, dog or husband until I finally ended up on the couch until my 6:30AM alarm to rally the troops for church.

I had an Excedrin hangover haze. Not fun. And then I was so cold in church I was physically uncomfortable, also thyroid related. I was super miserable. When we came home I walked the dog, and decided to "warm up and lay down" for a bit. Apparently I passed out for a little over an hour and woke to my husband assuring me that the kid was content and he was off to work. I guess I needed it.

I'm that person who sees naps as something I need to book in advance, like a massage. Rarely do I get to just "Have one," so sneaking one today was inadvertently amazing.

Of course I woke up in cleaning mode in order to "earn my relaxation" later. I have since done the tubs and wiped down all surfaces while my faithful RoboVac picks up all the floor yuck. My daughter has been crafting and creating and I slowed down to blog it out.

Sometimes you DO just need a nap. More often than not, we DESERVE a darn nap. We work hard, we play hard. We spend too much time doing what we "should" instead of doing what is "good" for us and that's something I am the worst at. Why watch 3 hours of television when you could paint that shelf you've been meaning to? Oh well because sometimes we need a bit of lazy!

I think we are so hard on ourselves and it's hard not to be hard on ourselves as redundant as it seems. It's work, workout, family dinner, bed time routine, repeat in some way, shape or form. I know plenty of people who operate on like 4 hours of sleep and somehow keep kicking ass at life. I, for one, cannot even be kind of nice without my 8. I can function but I'm a mean, mean redhead.

I'm learning that self care is anything BUT selfish, or should be. I'm learning that sometimes YOU JUST NEED A NAP. And there's no shame in that! You're human! We're all humans! I'm learning that boundaries, either with friends, spouses, co-workers, and within yourself are necessary some times and that this is all part of adulting, whether we like it or not.

So I'm going to enjoy the rest of my Sunday even if it's covered in cleaning and laundry. I will binge-watch and relax because tomorrow is back to the grind! Take a nap if you haven't yet! I fully support it!

Hipster Coffee Spot Lunch Blogging

I changed it up this week. I've actually made many changes recently. Many. At work my days have been filled with steady work. Most often it is routinely more quiet. So I've got less time to blog from the company desktop and by the time I get home I'm usually just scrambling to get it together for things in general, let alone to take time to write. But I challenged myself to every day this year, here I am, almost 2 months strong!

Although I miss my lunch walks, the coffee and sometimes muffin lunch is a wonderful pick me up. It's cliche and oh so very Oregonian of me to find all inspiration in a "coffee house" scene but here I am, typing among the customers.

Here's what I know. This week has resulted in some serious maturity strides for me. I'm more and more accepting of all of my mistakes, flaws, anxieties and difficulties and am feeling lighter. Maybe not when it comes to the fitness area, but there will always be time to lose weight. 

This week I was more honest with myself and it allowed me to be honest with the people I care most about. Some of this came in the form of deep, rough conversations. Some came from not bothering people even though I wanted to and some came from stopping anxiety in its tracks, or not feeding into conversations and activities that just made me feel not great.

I prayed more this week; mostly for the happiness and success of others. I put out all the positive vibes and sifted through any negativity to better have a grip on reality. Life is tough. It's annoying. There are hurdles and frustrations. Plans change. People can be abrasive, rude, unthinking and selfish. So what? I've been not so great too.

I'm embracing all the cliches. I do live "one day at a time." Bad moment? "This too shall pass."

A few weeks ago I was just wobbly, which I decided was  mostly stable but ready to fall. And then I cultivated some wonderful, wonderful moments and just took on the "power of now."

I've checked in with the people I lost track of. I've "let go" a little of the people I was imposing on a bit too much. I've cried a lot. I've accepted some new challenges, physical, and mental. I've been kinder to myself.

This isn't some "born again," "new year, new me" entry. But yesterday my growth and stability was celebrated. And I kind of want to bask in that a little bit.

I've been painted as controlling for most of my life. I've been drowned in disappointments and collapsed by changed plans and expectations. Bogged down by "the rules," I've had to let a lot of that go and it's been a positive experience. 

I'm less wobbly and more...floaty? Does that work? I'm sustaining. And that's more than I can say or have said about myself in a long time. I'm not even sure I'll last one more day or one more week feeling this...sustainable thing but I just want to try and enjoy it.

This week has been busy. Next week is more of the same. I've had a rough 2 and 3/4 years...if you want the real truth, I've had a rough 6 and a half years, which I'm just starting to talk about and come to terms with. So much of that is the beauty of life. We continue. We prevail.

I've been in my own way and caused myself extra hurt and turmoil and I don't want to do that anymore. I've made not great choices and countless mistakes. I want to make better choices and lower that mistake count. I don't want everything to hinge on other people, but sometimes we need to hold others accountable. I'm seeking the balances. I want to be a good friend as much as I want to be treated well by my friends.

I really just want everyone I care about, to be happy. Not Hallmark Card, Disney "happy," just...sustainable and copacetic I guess. Well, if they want to be Hallmark Card Disney happy, I'll support them but may be slightly skeptical. Will there be random bursts of song? 

I won't pretend that with this outlook and methodology there aren't casualties. I'm not as text-friendly lately. Social media stuff has taken a huge hit. I'm much more Instagram-friendly than Facebook anymore. I'm more private and selective when it comes to who knows what about certain aspects of my life. And I'm much less tolerable of mistreatment. If I don't like how you're treating me, I'll tell you, like it or not. I'm not always mean about it, but I'm working on being more assertive.

So here I am, another blog down, with a much better life attitude than I've had in awhile. I'm feeling lighter, sustainable and in tune with myself. Old habits die hard. I won't pretend slip-ups and bad days won't happen, but I can tell you I'm better equipped to let them affect me less. I hope someone reads this and feels better about their mental struggle. Feel free to reach out to me at any time! Happy Friday Eve you all!

Today's Post Brought To You By Resilience

I have recently been defined as exhibiting resilience, so I Googled the exact definition: the capability of a strained body to recover its size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress; an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change. 

Let's break this down.The capability of a strained body to recover it's size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress. Two words: CAR ACCIDENT.

An ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change? I possess said ability, yes. Adjust easily? Define easily! Easily to misfortune and change? Hmm...I don't recall any of it being done easily but just being done.

I'm not sure how to feel about this being me. In some ways it is complimentary but I can't help struggle with the feeling that I shouldn't have to be so resilient. This is why my new favorite word is wobbly, which is definitely a move from ambivalence, most likely in the right direction. 

Some of my easy adjustments to misfortune and change are from exhaustion. Sometimes I can't have that same argument over and over. Some of my adjustments to misfortune and change have come with tantrum, depression and all of them with anxiety. But I put on a good game face, that much is true.

I posted just last night about being that person who can look completely put together while internally just collapsing. You can say something that completely breaks me and my worst response would just be resting bitch face, I just get stone-faced and absorb whatever offensiveness affronts me. Sometimes that feels cowardly, other times I'm just avoiding confrontation like a normal anxious depressive adult.

But lately I just ask myself, is it worth getting upset about? As a woman we are notoriously labeled as nagging, whining, high maintenance beings. It's pretty unfair but sometimes we do live up to the stereotype, sorry to say. But then again, how many times should we have to adjust "easily" and "handle" the misfortune and change. 

I've been mistreated, I've been taken for granted, hurt physically, emotionally and spiritually like the rest of us. I've even experienced a degree of sexual assault and yet, I prove my resilience right? Is that a compliment though? To be able to put up with all of this? Maybe we shouldn't have to.

After everything with the #metoo movement it became more clear to me than ever that all women are resilient. We all handle more than our share, and most often with grace and composure, but we shouldn't have to. And this isn't to say that we need to take our resting bitch faces and turn on "the bitch switch." But I feel like we can use our resilience to better ourselves and our world, instead of letting it define us.

I think my issue with resilience is there is a feeling for me, of an underlying "doormat" -sub-context and really it's more about strength and calculation. Most change is difficult but we push our growth and do what we have to as we persevere. Misfortune hits us all, and maybe we need a day to cry and feel all the feelings, but most of us shed our tears and soldier on because we have to.

So while resilience is good, and I'm glad it is said to me as a compliment, I strive for more. I want more growth and evolution. And I'm surely going to use that resilience to get me there!