Good Enough

Am I good enough for you to love me too? - Evanescence

Self doubt is a useless whore. I always feel like I am scraping by on some lie and once everyone figures out what a bad person I am they are all going to run away.

The truth is that different people draw different things out of each of us. B challenges me in several different ways: She makes me try harder to work out and be healthier. Living longer is a good thing. When I work out with her I always discount the work I am doing (my forms is not right. I can barely life weight. The usual demons). Instead of focusing on how far I have come.. I'm thinking of trying the heavier weight on kettle bell tomorrow.

Sharon and Megan can sew. I have no patience for such things. I get frustrated and think I must complete ALL THE THINGS TODAY! This is something I am working on. Shay is an excellent quilter and has given me various sets of stopping points along the way. I am learning it's ok to have a project. They are called projects for a reason. And there is no perfection in sewing.

Lisha, Bean and B can dance in various ways. POinted toes. Long beautiful lines.. I always feel like a giant lump.  I have rhythm. I can untza Untza dance. I got that down. I can dying flower dance with the best of them. Punch the baby, kick the baby dance.. check. If it's gothic night.. I got this. I even learned some basic pole dance moves. I would like to learn Bollywood. I want to learn Irish dance. But too much learning new things makes for a crazy Kari.

The Beast is good at learning all the things about whatever it is he is learning at the time. I find this frustrating. I think it's because I am jealous of his ability to listen to customers intently and listen to something else in a different ear and be able to concentrate on the both of them. This is a talent I had in school.. listen to teachers and carry on my own conversation. But this arm has been lost because it hasn't been used. 

So what's tonight's lesson? Self doubt happens. I am still super awesome. I just have trouble remembering it sometimes.

Trust in me and you'll fall as well...

“I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

I am heartbroken for so many reasons lately. I realize that they all have a common factor: Trust

That big nasty word that encircles me every day… five letters that make me quiver.

I have to trust people at their face value. But what happens when they break your trust.

Can you really give that person benefit of the doubt next time? The answer is no. You will always find yourself doubting them; every word they say. You might not catch yourself doing it but you are. Even right now as you read my words I am reminding you of that one time when I let you down.

Judge me not, fair friends, readers and other random people… I am not alone

I am not some goddess of always being truthful. But I have never intentionally hurt someone. I learned a long time ago that even though honesty can hurt, the lie hurts so much worse. Eventually people will appreciate your candid answers or learn to stop asking you questions.

Trust is terribly hard in all relationships: love, friendship, work.. hell, even driving! You have to trust the person next to you has insurance in case they decide they like your lane more than yours. It’s more disappointing to learn that lover has been dishonest than learning your fellow driver doesn’t have insurance. For some reason we get over the fact that other people are irresponsible pricks but never fully get over the hurt that one lover/friend has done to us. Sure we might ‘forgive’ them but you are always left wondering if your next lover will stray or your other friends have been lying to you.

What I am trying to say is -  in most things you have to trust. Or you will drive yourself into a paranoid mess.

Much love and healing to you all.

Impossible Expectations

I love to try new things. I love to immerse myself in something I have never done before. I find it thrilling, exciting.. and exhausting!

You see, in the last month, I have decided to try: pole dancing, learning German, hooping and strength training.  I have found myself super excited that I can call someone a shithead in German or scream out some random phrase in a bar that only my friends (or random German speaking waiter) know. In learning German, I am forming my own tree house.

I have learned to move my hips in a figure 8 like I am scraping a bowl of batter. I have managed to learn tracing my body in a sexual manner and still manage to feel not sexy. I can now throw my body around a pole and open my eyes while spinning in circles. In pole dancing, I have learned trust. A tiny bit of trust in an object sort of screwed into a ceiling. Trusting my fellow classmates to be supportive of my clunky ass while I relearn my body and how it moves. I have relearned that the simple things in life give me the most trouble but throw the impossible at me and I will shine. I have relearned that all women are beautiful and I am jealous of this curvy creature who can is SO sexy it kills (and probably the person I will miss most about this class).

In hooping I have learned the extension of my body: How to lengthen, how to move with something and make it part of who you are and how to not look like a giant jackass while doing it. I have found the beauty in an object I always found as lame growing up. I have met a group of people that I would have not raised an eye to. They have been super supportive and welcoming me.

In strength training I have learned that only I have the power to push myself and get out of it what I need. You pick your own reps. People make sure your form is correct but other than that; no judging. I can scream at the sled for being heavy and making me work. I can flip off the weights. I also learned that I am competitive. I should stop that in this new portion of my life. I am weak of physical strength but mighty in my determination. I learned that bringing anger, pain and hurt to this safe place will only cause me physical harm (two days later and I can barely walk). I have learned I have a great support group who want nothing but the best for you. Even if you are trying to hurt yourself because you are a silly monster. At least my form was great and I hurt in all the right places? I am a grown up and in charge of my emotions and how I express them. Own it.

The exhausting part of trying to learn all the things in the past month is the extreme frustration at not being REALLY GOOD at it. Mostly it’s the unrealistic expectations and stupid high bar I put up for myself. What do you mean after 1 week of learning lesson 1 of German I can’t be a fluent speaker? What do you mean after 1 class of pole dancing I can’t climb the pole with my thighs and hang upside down? What do you mean I can’t be an expert hooper after one day learning to hoop?

I have no patience for myself. I want to be great at something. I want people to ask ME how to do something. I expect myself to be Superwoman: complete with body correcting tights and a cape that flows on it’s own.

Tonight I will take on my final pole class. Not because I am not enjoying myself but because it’s expensive ($100 a month when I have a $50 per month gym membership). I will remember on my final class what I have gained from working that pole the last four Friday nights – I can carry my own laundry detergent up the stairs. Small victories!

Happy Surgiversay!!

The month of August is filled with many sad anniversaries in my life. I am happy to have a positive one to share. Today, August 9^th, is my one year surgiversary. One year ago I had gastric bypass surgery done. 148 pounds gone. 287 starting weight. 139 ending weight.

It has been a very hard journey; not only physically but emotionally.

Physically - your body has to relearn how to reprocess foods. You don’t often get the nutrition you need from your foods (malabsorption) so you have to take vitamins and pills for the rest of your life. As you lose the weight, you have to relearn how your body moves and what you are capable of. Plus you begin to think you are smaller than you are and run into doors.

I bruise like a peach. I am cold ALL the time. 110 outside feels amazing. I’m like a lizard with a heat lamp. I have no sex drive. Hormones are rearranging themselves. I’m not interested in being touched, AT ALL. No hugs, kisses, pat on the back.. Don’t want it. Don’t touch me. Let me tell you how wonderful THAT is for a marriage.

But what I can do?!?!?! I ran a 5k Mud run bitches! And I finished in the middle of my pack. I run! For FUN! I go out in public in a swimsuit! I have extra skin, and what?! I am more outgoing. I don’t live in fear of being made fun of when I dance. I was stinkin gorgeous before but I’m HOT now. I have jacked up teeth but I have confidence galore! I’m not perfect but I see past the imperfections that clouded all my vision before. I am WORTH being loved.

Mentally – I get uncomfortable when people call me skinny. I want to eat. Skinny has always been a bad word (a jealous word) usually followed by bitch. I forget that I cannot eat like I used to so I put too much food on my plate. Since I grew up with the must eat ALL.THE.FOODS. you put on your plate I try to eat them. Then I get sick.  So I can’t wrap my head around the fact that my stomach is smaller. For a while there, I just believed it was a joke and that the surgery didn’t actually happen. Until the first overeat vom fest. I still try to shop in Lane Bryant (I haven’t fit into their clothes in 6 months). I still try to buy plus size things at the thrift store. I see the jeans I wear and swear they are too small when they are actually almost falling off of me.

Emotionally – It takes a toll on those around you. Lord FORBID they want Whataburger. MONTHS After surgery I would wake up to that smell in my apt and would puke. And I’ll be damned if a fry didn’t fall out of the bag sometime on the ride home. I’d find it two days later; stale and smelling like the car. I’d eat it. Don’t judge me! You have all done it. Then my body would reject it. Carbs are truly evil. They are addictive. (Once you pop you can’t stop… is proven).  I want cupcakes and sugar and pizza still. I have had pizza since the surgery but I don’t eat the whole large by myself with some breadsticks. I’ll have a slice and be done. I had a cupcake.. and then went to sleep (too much sugar). But I’m not eating ALL the cupcakes, drinking all the milk, and eating all the time.

Everything is a struggle. Especially now that the honeymoon is over with the surgery. Now I have to do it on my own. Maintaining will be hard but I have a strong support of ACTUAL friends here to help guide me and to remind me why I can’t eat cookies. (Obese or healthy? Coma or be awake for life? Is this really the choice you want to make). But I’m not saying I’ll never eat another cookie again. And I’m certainly no poster child for healthy. I struggle with every damn decision I make. I still don’t drink enough water. I push myself too hard when I work out. Sometimes I don’t push at all.

It’s about choices. I made mine to have the surgery and I don’t judge people who haven’t. I hope people don’t judge me for making this choice.

I feel all preachy but what I am trying to say is.. Thanks for being there in my journey.  

Words

(I had written this for Open Stage but got too scared paying attention to the negative thoughts and backed out. So here it is)

Some words, when spoken, can’t be taken back – Pearl Jam Nothingman

Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace.
Buddha

“That's what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.”
― Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things

“They’re just words”, she said.

“These are the same words you say to me. Which words do not mean anything? The ones you said to them or the ones you say to me?”

Nothing you say or can say to anyone are ‘just words’. Your words carry meaning to those who care about you. They carry weight to those who listen.

The worst words hurt more than physical harm. I would much rather be punched in the face repeatedly than ever hear another bad opinion of me. They are just opinions. Hell, they are not even opinions. They are other people trying to make you feel horrible about yourself because they are not good at something. Jealousy, Hurt, whatever it is. They are not right unless you let them be.

Yet, those words that should not matter stick around forever. According to the demons in my life I am:

Stupid

Fat

Good for nothing

Will never amount to anything

Lazy

Bad wife

Shouldn’t have children

Psychotic

Boring

Cheater (when it comes to weight loss)

No matter what the good voices tell you, the bad ones stick around forever. I hear them in the voices of everyone who has said them and every time I try to do something new. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.. why do you even bother? You’re just going to get fat again. No one actually cares about you. They are only friends with you because you are friends with _______. You don’t deserve to be loved. “

Ahh the downward hate spiral begins. I get angry. Then I get pissed at myself for being angry. THEN i get mad at myself for allowing myself to be pissed at myself for being angry.. Until it's too late and I'm lost in the words that cause me any doubt.

The best words can make you fly; Soar in your thoughts, feel like the queen of your world (and everyone elses). I love these words. I try to share them with random strangers. “You are beautiful” is one of my favorite compliments to give women.

And although these never stick around long enough to drown out the others..

I AM:

Beautiful

Strong

Smart

A Runner

Talented

Funny

Good Friend

Loved more than I know

I leave you with this wish. Say something kind to someone you know. Be kind to strangers. Compliment strangers without fear (they appreciate it).

Much LOVE

Voices Carry (Kari)

“When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time.”
― Laurie Halse Anderson, Speak

I have a blog but I am terrified to say anything in it.

So here I am, with my ‘voice’ saying something… anything.

This is my blog. Not every blog will be happy (sad, angry, frustrated) but will be a snapshot into something puzzling me, or simply, pissing me off.

I know I am not alone with the terror of just saying something. I am afraid my words will not be as expressive as others

But the first step is just to speak.

I have never been much of a writer but my hope is that you hear me speaking when I say this.

So here goes nothing…