I wish I could explain this to anyone.. I can't, not well enough to for someone who doesn't feel it to understand it.

I keep saying it is loud. Because it is loud. It is loud in my head, that weird too many noises loud that you can't focus on the conversation someone is trying to have with you. Sitting in an overcrowded bar with no baffling and having someone try to explain quantum physics to you for a test you have to take loud.  And when I lay down at night it is quips and phrases that flash through the loudness and stirs the whole thing and you just can't grasp on to the one thing you should be thinking about, so your eyes may close but the colors continue to flash with the brightness of summer lightening.  Until finally I pass out from the insane amount of crap I have to take to make it slow down, with the last thought being please let it be quiet tomorrow. It hasn't been yet.

So I do the one thing I know how to do .. as my daddy calls it "I click". I sit in front of my computer and work because I can make that make sense because half of it makes no sense at all and that is ok.  The only thing that makes noise is my incredibly loud keyboard and it is almost a rhythm that puts my mind at some ease.

I don't want to be around people, it is way too peoply and it is just so damn loud and frankly uncomfortable. So right now I just need time to get the shitstorm to quiet down I am sure it will when it is ready, it always does but for right now I just need the understanding that when I am ready I will, because I always do.

What I need people to truly understand is when this happens, while I would at any other time tell you that the people who love me aren't judging me.. that is what my brain is currently screaming. Hell at times it is telling me you are judging me on things that people don't even know about!!! Like how would you know I put on yesterday's socks.. no way in hell you would.. but if I saw you in the store my grey matter would be saying.. "The know.. they can smell your old socks.. you are disgusting.. they know you are disgusting... RUN!"  FYI I put on clean socks this morning but I think you get the point. So it is just easier to not.

And do not get me started on eye contact... immediately find a different focus because if you don't.. they will see how ugly it is in here and hate me....

Yea it's that crazy in here.

Send Peace.

I honestly don't know which is which or if at this point it even matters.

I feel like complete hell. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

I have once again done everything wrong. Year after year I say this is the year that it will all be ok! I will sail right on through, I will eat right, I will sleep right, I will work out, I will keep up with the house, I will continue my projects... and again here I sit ashamed and embarrassed that I have yet again failed at all things.

There is a possibility that I may have been on an 8 month manic episode. Yesterday when I was feeling so incredibly down I decided to write and I noticed that it had been exactly 8 months since I had written on my blog, then I scoured Facebook and again.. not a word of meaning or purpose. I have not written a thing since May 20th which just so happens to be the day that my dad fell off the roof. What I did notice is that I have not slowed down since that day and frankly since September I have been on a major spree. Everything had to be perfect. It started with my diet, my work out, my Halloween custom, Thanksgiving, Christmas and decorations, you name it .. it had to be just right and as things started failing because they always do it cost me plenty.. time, money, and apparently as I write this a good chunk of sanity.

So what does that mean, it means that all of the energy levels are all used up. Like a gas tank you just never refill and you ride on until the engine just stops. It means that cleaning the house is too much, it means that taking a shower is too much, it means that sleep at a normal time is too much, it means that getting up is too much, that sleeping is too much, that people are too much, it means that being away from my dad is too much, that it is all just too fucking much!

And facing it... the people... my friends.. my team.. my family ..when  everyone thought I was doing so good.... all I see is I am a fake, a fraud, a failure.

The two things I have been able to maintain and consistently succeed at over the last 4 weeks is eating and drinking every emotion and throw in a side dish of self loathing and you end up with this perfect storm.

I know sometimes when I write I all of a sudden come up with an answer, or see a light in it.. today there is nothing. Just dismay that I allowed this to happen again and the never ending question of why am I so damn weak?

It is not lost on me that my last update to this page was exactly 8 months ago today. It's not because I don't have words I have words I have lots of words. I actually probably need to back track to Facebook and post words that I have already written here. I oddly enough titled this Ghost before writing even the first word, maybe it is I that is the the ghost.  I sort of feel like it, that ghostly lost feeling of not knowing exactly where you are or what has happened or where you belong. I imagine that is how most feel moments after death in sudden journey goings. I imagine that those lingering waiting on their outbound train feel these things in the hours leading up to their departure. Me... I just randomly feel them because what is my life if not abnormal.

I chose Ghost because my first line was going to be "See that wagon? I fell off of it and it ran over me with all of its ghost in aboard." Now I don't even know if that is the truth, maybe I am the one driving the damn thing. So many good intentions and plans all laid out leading up to the holidays and what did I do but go....

What is it they say about the best laid plans and mice and men?

So here I am. Knowing I have to get my life back on track, my house back in order, my food back to normal, my projects back to working and I can't even muster the energy to shower. PS if you saw me in the food kitty today can we pretend you didn't? I am so far behind on things, I have two knitting projects .. ok maybe ten going that need finishing, I have yarn for a sweater that is sitting in the same place it was when I bought it. I pick up the yarn and just drop it back in the bag. I have an amazing book that I am reading about a killer ass (I had to.. it's a donkey named Sherman he is a bad ass) but I won't pick it up because my brain is such a fog that I know I won't really remember it.  I have about a dozen paintings in my head that I want to paint. One would think with all this do nothing time I would be caught up on lots of TV.. ha nope.  Everything it at a stand still.

I have zero drive.

I am sure I will unfunk myself sooner or later, until then I think I will hang with my ghosts, they don't know what is happening either.

but I can see glimpses of light shining through. 


I would love to report I am a ok, but it is more of a roller coaster ride, one minute, doing the things, doing great, half way feel good, the next the coaster slams down into a valley. Right now the valley dips are much slighter than last week. That is a good thing, the contemplation of the imminent doom of Re isn't so intense. Some thoughts of disappearing or hiding out but none quite as permanent as last week's mental death threats.


My biggest thing right this very minute, the insane exhaustion and the inability to sleep!!! It is awful. I finally fell asleep good about 3 am Saturday night, for some unknown reason the pups decided that my bed was the WWE ring before 6 yesterday morning. Last night I just KNEW I had it in the bag! A great night sleep coming right up! I was tired. Little sleep all weekend, worked multiple shifts at the restaurant, I planted floors and fixed the porch up... I had done lots of the things. And.... wonk wonk waaaaaa. Awful night of sleep! Toss and turned with a million things running through my mind, drift off, wake up in a panic and burning up, think some more, calm heart down.. drift off, wake up.. rinse repeat. This pattern makes for a very non functional morning, and possibly a danger to society, at the very least it leaves me drained of energy and just unable to people in any way that should be accepted.


Since this "episode" began I have been just drained. Emotionally, Mentally and Physically.. I try to push through each of these every day, even though I know that this is just no way at all to live. Not happily anyway. I have tried to make some choices for myself to at the very least keep me from hitting the Valley of Death again. I have forced myself out in public, I have worked every chance I had, I have forgone the 430 am wake ups in exchange for the few uninterrupted hours of sleep I do get which seem to be between 3 and 6, I have spent time with family and friends, I have created a beautiful porch sitting area complete with colorful plants, all the while fighting this inner demon. Sometimes I think that If I don't speak out that even those closest to me wouldn't know how bad the inner turmoil is, but if you look closely I think you would probably find that my laugh doesn't quite come from happiness, my smile doesn't reach my eyes, my hugs aren't touching your soul, my presence lingers of darkness instead of light. I don't want it to be this way. In fact, I don't want to feel happiness, I want to feel joy. I don't want to feel a hug, I want to feel love. I don't want to feel contentment, I want to feel passion. I don't want to feel living, I want to feel purpose. Until I find the balance and the way off of this insane amusement park ride all I can do is keep doing the things while faking the funk, and that includes some not so lovely choices, like limiting the 430 am wake ups from 5 days a week to what I can physically handle, to forcing myself in to places with people I know love me even though my brain is trying to tell me they are better off if I don't show, it is doing the things that walk a fine line between doing the things to keep going and doing the things to wrap up and the determination to make it.


I have had numerous people tell me they hate to hear me speak of my own death. My self inflicted death I should say. To me it comes as natural as telling you about the color of shirt I am going to wear tomorrow.  I can actual laugh about it, it doesn't make it funny but it does make it normal. It desensitizes the topic by speaking so outwardly about how I feel. And you know what ... it is ok for me to talk about it. Chances are I SHOULD talk about it because if I don't you have no idea how much darkness has creeped in, and if you don't know who would throw me a life line. A literal life line. I do find it quite frustrating that all over the world wide webs, news programs, and in personal debates and communication you could find the topic of abortion over the last week so so. There are so many on different sides of the fence, and there are actually varying ranges of that fence, we can as a society freely and openly discuss a topic as "taboo" as abortion but heaven forbid (see what I did there) I say out loud. "I want to die" everyone shies away and doesn't know what to say or do! Let's not even discuss if you are working in a cooperate setting and call off, the truth there is you must lie! All of a sudden your crippling depression is "The Cold" you get every few months. This only leads to further issues as people are passing you tissues and cough drops when what you really need is a hand on your shoulder and a kind word of understanding.


We need people that are willing to listen, not just hear the words but listen. Listen to the inflection. Listen to the pain. Listen to the tiny changes. Listen to the peal for help. And we need to people to not be afraid to reach out that helping hand even if that hand is out side of their comfort zone. A wise man once told me that the magic happens out side of your comfort circle, please understand magic happens even in the not so fun things if you take the time to step out of your box. You literally could save someones life. Some of the simpler things that could have or would have helped me these past few days:

• Hey I see you struggling, I am coming to get you we are going to sit on the beach for 30 minutes
• What can I do to lighten your load? Do you have some outsourcing I can help you with.
• Hey. I just want to say hey and let you know I am here if you want to talk.. or if you don't want to talk.. I am just here.
• Talk to me about what this death looks like to you, what does it look like after you are gone. Can I share with you what I see?
• I know you are exhausted, please don't worry about Reboot, we got this until you can get back, take care of your mind, body and soul so you can return.
• Let's have coffee.
• Let's grab a drink and catch up.

Some of these did happen, some of them didn't, what matters is there are a few people who can see past the scary of my life and try to hold my hand through it. But we should rally better! A terminal cancer patient, food, rest, memories, hugs, love... I could go on and on about what is showered upon those last days. People pray for miracles, people wish they could do more to save their friend of family member but their hands are tied, yet they do and do and use kind words and offer support.  A terminally depressed patient, strange looks, whispers, just be happy snarky comments, impatience, and indifference you see where I am going here yes? They die... then all the people say I wish I could have done more.... and right there in front of them the whole time was the miracle to save this person, it was just easier to look away than to out stretch their hand in support.


I still don't know what my exact purpose is but I do know that part of it is to get people to understand.

Peace and Love

Re

When I name these posts I usually google the title for a related image. Today came up with nothing. How is invisibly broken not a thing? It needs to be a thing. Maybe I will be the one to make it something. Maybe that will be the title to my book .. you know the invisible one. Either way.... Invisibly Broken is the best description I can come up with for myself at the moment.


Some of you know.. some of you don't. On Sunday a dark storm hit unlike one I have seen in quite a while. Don't get me wrong, the darkness usually shows up about every 3 months or so, and it is no fun, and it is really nothing to make light off but compared to what reared its ugly head on Sunday those were shirt tail breezes. I was fine on Saturday. I even said to my dearest friend, look at me being fine through Mother's Day! I truly believed at that moment I was. Sunday I worked brunch it was the insanity we thought it would be but I was fine... or so I thought. I thought wrong. Just a few hours after leaving the restaurant my brain did a nose dive plummet into the darkest depths of hell.  My own personal hell, where my brain tells me that I am worthless, I am a fraud, I am a pathetic waste of space, and humanity would be better off without me. As the winds of self loathing and doubt whipped around me, in washed the crashing waves of pain. Yes physically manifested pain. If I had not known better I would have sworn I had either the worst case of flu possible or I had been run over by a truck going 90 and then galloped on by a zebra and baby kangaroo. As the tears would not stop I contemplated my purpose and my existence, after not coming up with anything meaningful, thoughts shifted to how to make my death look mysterious and nonsuicidal.  Lucky for me, everything was too messy or too involved and I just didn't have the energy to pull it off.  I say lucky for me but honestly I am still not back to a place that I feel lucky to be alive. It's more of a life in the fog and mire at the moment, with everything being weighed down with a thick blanket of February molasses. Have I mentioned I truly hate being sticky?

I reached out to people I felt needed to know, all of them had an encouraging word. Maybe I didn't express in quite enough detail exactly where I was because most had a nonchalant.. power through, chin up, you can do it quip of a speech then they moved on to other topics. In my head I was screaming.. "I AM CALLING TO SAY GOODBYE TO YOU..I am never going to speak to you again... please come save me, I don't care what the next door neighbors dog did to your cousins lama or that your hair cut was horrible! Ok maybe I care about that last part I don't want you at my funeral party looking like a reject from 1982". But you get my point... they couldn't see, they couldn't hear, and they couldn't understand where I was. I was invisibly broken and felt like I would be invisibly dead.  I some how made it through Monday doing some things here and there that may help me in the future, the entire time my brain was saying, this is so stupid, you won't succeed at this either, hell you aren't even planning on living long enough to get to the second appointment, why are you throwing away money that could be better used to bury your stupid ass.  I went anyway in a very robotic type action... I called to get the house cleaned, I had the yard mowed, I did the laundry, I went to work.  You don't want to leave these things for someone else...


More on this in a moment.


During my stint in hell the one place that I could and still find peace is at the restaurant, it's the place that was safe after Deanna's accident. The place that as I walked through the door I could hang up this darkness for just a little while.  As I breezed through the doors on Monday afternoon over an hour early for my shift I blew the dust off of the peg, threw off the invisible cloak of pain, and tossed it aside in a familiar but slightly out of practiced manner. It worked... I returned again on Tuesday... Thursday... today... (Wednesday I didn't fair as well as the other nights but that is neither here nor there) my point is it is so incredibly important to have that space where you know... know matter what you are going to be ok! Even if you are surrounded by really sharp knives.  As I leave there at night... regardless if I want it to or not the cloak of darkness trails along with me, it is just a little bit lighter each time.


One of the crappiest things about this episode wasn't so much the constant thoughts of death, trust me, they scare you so much more than they scare me. I would gladly lay down with death if it meant my brain was at peace for more than a few hours at a time, no that wasn't the crappiest. I didn't go to Reboot. It wasn't that I just didn't go... I physically could not. Between the exhaustion, the pain, and the panic attacks just tossed in for fun I could not get out the door. So I didn't, for 4 days. I returned today and it proved to be as hard as I imagined. Before I could get to my jeep this morning my hands were sweating, my heart was racing and I physically wanted to vomit. My heart kept saying "just go.. go you damn fool!" And my brain chimed in and said.. "you stupid fraud. How are you going to face these people, who counted on you, who depended on you to be there, who looked to you for guidance and direction, you let every one of them down. You're no coach. You're no friend. You are nothing. You should have gone with the "accidentally fell in the tiger pit at the zoo while drunk" idea.. no one would have suspected."  I literally had to force myself to shut the jeep door, but I went, and spent an hour and 15 minutes trying not to cry in shame, because I can't be who I promised them.


I can't even be who I promised me I would be.


I came home, paid all the bills, made an appointment to fix my windshield, I mailed the check for the June vacation.. and once again reported that I was doing the things. I have been doing the things... the things that look oddly like moving forward but every so often feel just like wrapping up..


I can call you.. I can talk to you about old lady in piggly wiggly who slipped on a grape and knocked out the cashier with a flying frozen cornish hen and you may never know. I may run into you while you are out buying your third removed step brothers baby by your mama's sister a onsie and you may never know. I can comment on your post about your fatty skinny 2 year old (that maybe really happened....) and you may never know. You can text me, email me, call me, you can be my friend, my brother, my lover, or my mother... and you may never know.


But right now... right this minute... you know.


My wish for this world is that we start to see the invisibly broken and hear them. Know that the pain they are in is not a place they want to be but a place that has manifested from some dark corner of their brain and even when it doesn't look like it they really are trying to claw their way out of the closet where they are hidden behind the worn out shoes no one remembers.


As for me... right this minute.. I am going to keep doing the things... and regardless of which ever side I land on my toilet will be clean!


Love and Peace,

Re

Every year around this time, sometimes a bit sooner, sometimes a bit later is Easter. Christians celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. Me I am over here celebrating the yearly resurrection of Re. (not that Jesus doesn't deserve mad props but I need this a bit more right now)

April 21st. Resurrection day, out of the ashes of the year before's downward spiral of hell. Every single year I say IT IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! I GOT THIS. Every single year I crash and burn into a pit of depression and overwhelming grief. There is one day that is worse than any other, April 19th, literally the day before her angelversary is spent in an unbelievable amount of anxiety, sadness, self loathing, anger, you name it.. that day it happens. The next day the "Fuck You Day" happens, and it is never as bad as the anticipation day of the 19th but it is not something I would ever consider good. You can tell me to remember the good times, best memories, and so forth all you want, my brain is riddled with a bazillion questions, what is, you sucks, failures and no matter what I can not turn it off. The worst thing it is not even just things revolving around the loss of my girl, but every single craptastic thing that has happened starts on repeat. I don't sleep. I toss and turn and wonder how a human as disgustingly sick as myself is allowed to continue to live and my De's life was ripped from her like a forgotten page from a forgotten book.

I get it, I am not everyone's cup of tea. I know that some people think I whine. I know that some people think I betrayed them. I know that some people just don't like me. I know that some people love me but can't handle the sadness. I KNOW these things, what you don't know is that I personally beat the crap out of myself for each of these things. I lay awake at night wondering how my decision that I made to help myself, made me lose the friendship of someone who I loved. I wonder if I am a good employee or even work family member. I wonder if I am good enough daughter, sister, friend... I wonder about it all and I typically come to the conclusion that I just suck. Then now happens.

I have this window in time from April 21st until October that things level off and I see things clearer, they aren't as muted and fogged by sadness as the the season in hell of the last 7 months. Its that time that I can dig myself out and look at things in a truer light and realize that my heart doesn't suck at all, that I am truly a human who wants good things for all people and if a decision I made turned out badly or hurt someone it was never every my intention. I am a good bean, but for those 7 months, I don't believe it.  I don't believe in myself at all, and during those time I rely on those that love me to hold me up so that life doesn't just swallow me whole. God I am grateful for those that do this and continue to do so.

So what does this all mean? Simply that I have a window of 5 months to straighten my path, to fix some emotional and physical problems that the last 7 months have caused. It means that I need my tribe, my people, my support to help keep me on track because I can not waste one second of the next 150 days. Each milestone met is one thing that during Hell Season I won't be able to beat myself up over, it will be one step closer to maybe not falling to the bottom of the pit next year.

I won't make any insane promises of what the next few weeks will hold but I do promise to show up, to resurrect myself out of the darkness and enjoy the light for the time it lasts.

Peace and Love
Re

The struggle of the juggle is so real.


I read an interesting article this morning. I am posting it here for you to take a look at. It is worth the 2 minute read. Long Term Coping . I am stuck in this right now. I have a list so overwhelmingly long of things that must be done but I end up exhausted trying to figure out what needs to be done when. The struggle of the juggle is so very real!  I am learning that I take on too much, I say yes when I should be saying.. no. I should be saying, "I really want to help you, but I already have a plate full right now" and by plate full I mean the laundry list of items (it ironically has laundry on the list, some of which is not even mine!) that have backed up because while trying to pretend I was holding it all together it was seriously just all falling apart.  Throw on a dash of OCD, (believe me my house like this is KILLING ME.. just ask Kris she will explain) a sprinkling of anxiety, top with a whip of grief and you have the recipe for a full fledged break down.


A break down that I think I am only seconds away from.


I have a vacation planned in exactly 9 days. Right this minute, I don't want to go. It is one more thing that is causing me anxiety. I didn't lose the weight I needed to so the clothes I wanted to wear don't fit.  Forget a bathing suit. I have not had my hair done in a year, I don't want to spend the money or time to do it. My toes still have Christmas polish. I have the skin tone of Casper's sister.. yes Casper the ghost. Leaving Banx and KD.. no more words needed. My house is not sitter or visitor ready, she comes tomorrow for a visit.. TOMORROW. I have to schedule a visit for a puppy I am sitting for on my return. Have to clean the house before then. If I don't clean the jeep, we will arrive in Florida having left a trail of puppy hair to follow on our return trip.  The fish need clean tanks.. the lizard needs to be let go, queue another emotion filled issue.. what if it is too soon, what if he is used to having crickets handed to him, what if he dies... I have a list of 15 high level things that have to get done before I can even think of leaving. I just want to cancel it.


Yesterday I was supposed to do yard work all day. With in an hour of starting I realized I had no idea what I was doing, ended up melting down and making the house even worse in the process. I accomplished next to nothing. Thank you dead leaves for providing the added dialogue of "You are so useless you can't even get the dead leaves up!" to my "You're useless because..." List.


Today I was supposed to get on the scale and see a 5 lbs loss. It was POINT 2. not even a quarter of a pound. No added dialogue needed there. I thought I ate better last week. Apparently I did not.


Part of my family is being attacked, causing more emotion filled stress as I can't help fix it. Literally watching them hurt and not being able to do the first damn thing to help is torture. It was all so unavoidable, but here we are due to ugliness of another.


I read another post "Some people don't want to be fixed because it gets them attention" I wonder .. do people see me like that? Do they understand that I share where I am so that maybe someone else won't feel so alone, even though I am not alone.   I would gladly fix me, I would turn in this broken me in exchange for never writing an emotionally filled post, for never crying another shame filled tear, for never screaming another silent scream on the inside only to break down on the other side of a keyboard. Please... fix me you can have all of the attention. Do people just thinking I am screaming for attention or do they realize it is my outlet?  Do they get that I hope to help others understand how this feels so they are kinder and gentler to someone who needs them?  Why do I even care what they think? 


I have this awesome network of people who would be willing to help me do anything if I just asked, but I can't. The horror of saying, "I need help with this stupid list of every day normal things because everything is crashing down on me and I just want to hide" is just more than I can handle. The unbelievable shame of not being able to deal with every day life ... I just need to pull up my boot straps and do it. Let the anger, the hurt, and ever other emotion fuel me into just doing it. 


Bottom line, about the only thing I am doing right this minute is coping and hanging on by a tattered string, that sometimes I wish would just break so my heart wouldn't hurt anymore.

Years ago I saw a made for Lifetime movie, it was really good, and in one scene the main character screams at her mother "IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU!!!!" The whole point of her screaming that was her mother was taking on all the responsibility of how her daughter was struggling believing it was due to her alcoholism when she was a young child. Repeatedly the mom had cried, apologized, begged for forgiveness, yet the daughters anger, hatred, personal struggles, and over all issues continued until that breaking point. It's NOT ABOUT YOU she screamed and years of anguish came crashing down as she realized the problem wasn't the problem but how she reacted to the problem. I have since longed to just scream those words as it was such a freeing moment.

Well guess what! IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU!!!!

It's not about what your 7 year old immature self called me.
It's not about you maybe not quite making me feel important.
It's not about anything you did or didn't do 40 years ago.
It's not about how you feel about my choices in work out teams.
It's not about you belittling my achievements so you wouldn't have to answer questions.
It's not about you not believing in me.
It's not about if you have contacted me or not.
and it certainly
Is not about your "nose" size!

(babe you won't live that one down anytime soon)

It's about me. It's about my reaction. It is about how I feel about those things, some almost a half a century later.  No one is to blame for my reaction or my feelings. They are me, they are who I am and I am trying to work through better reaction and  learning The Elsa Method.  You know.. Let it Go... Let it GOOOOO. (still hate that movie though). Some of the things that are deeply rooted happened so very long ago the other party doesn't even remember it, it was that insignificant, or the other party doesn't see it that way at all and is never going to say I am sorry I made you feel that way. So why should I be carrying that weight around with me, I ruck at Reboot, I certainly do not need to Ruck the weight of every wrong that ever crossed my path and I don't need to ruck around every wrong that I have ever done either.

I have often stated I was not a good daughter, sister, mother, lover or friend. As I sit here and look around,
My parents are still alive and well, are wonderful humans and I love them and they love me.
My siblings are successful, in love, and have incredible families who love me. I love them and they love me.
My children, while two have passed on to heaven, are all amazing humans who love big, are successful, are loved beyond measure here on earth and in heaven, I love them and they love me.
My lover, we have been through hell and back, he usually carries the brunt of my pain, we still laugh, he doesn't care if I lose the weight he is there either way, I love him, he loves me.
My friends, are all amazing humans, who are supportive, who care for me, who are cared for by me, I love them, they love me.

You see all of that. All of those people in my life are amazing! No ones life has been utterly destroyed by me or my not so great roles in their lives. My life was not destroyed by them either, it is my own gray matter that is my worst enemy.

Yesterday after my terribly rough morning, numerous people reached out and said, "Those words, I do that too!" or "Your post was so me, thank you for sharing". I have said it so many times, my writing is just for that! So that one person connects, so that one person does not feel alone, my job was done yesterday. Right in line with this I watched a powerful vlog by a dear friend, who asked that we give away our confessions, give them to the universe so that they no longer have the power to weigh us down. Then to look at what we are good at. Yesterday I confessed to feeling enormous shame in my physical being, I shared all the words that I say to myself in meanness and anger. On the flip side, I have a unique ability to freely share my life, even the darkest of corners that most people hide from the world.

Today I bring to you a second confession, I am NOT good at confrontation, drama, or problems. I believe my mother said it best when she said "I was not taught how to deal so in turn you weren't taught how to deal, blah blah blah." My reaction was "OF COURSE I know how to deal! It is simple.. Problem arises with someone.. Tell them to go F their self and issue gone." She said... "My point exactly" So she is right I don't know how to deal with things well. I don't know how to have a frank conversation with someone, I don't know how to say, you hurt me. On the flip side of that. I can write. I can write with an uncanny ability to make you feel what I feel. I can clearly detail exactly why I feel the way I do.  And in doing so, I connect with others, I make them understand they are truly not alone.

At this time, I need to take that to the next level.

I need to let go. I need to stop carrying around the weight of my emotions and maybe then, I will also lose the pounds of unwanted body weight and even if I don't do that, be able to see who I really am regardless of this bone filled flesh bag my soul is wearing around. ( a fat flesh bag is still not fabulous though)

My dream, my life goal,  and what I truly believe is my purpose is to help people. I want to stand in front of a room full of people and say .. "I have been to hell, I came back, you can too, let me help you."  I think so much of my self worth is placed on my physical being and my weight that it is hard for me to see that while I have been in this hell, working my way back, that I am already helping others. I don't have to be a size 6 to encourage you through a rough work out session.  I don't have to be 150 pounds to be a coach.  I don't have to be fatless to stand in front of you and say, let me help you, I know the way.  I don't have to be a super model to hold your hand listen to your story and say "I understand, we will get through this"

Off to research what next steps I need to take to make this dream a reality!

Love and Peace
Re