Thursday, November 25, 2010

2 lbs might as well be a million

Who knew that a measly two damned pounds would stop my weight-loss journey dead in it's tracks. Two pounds. I literally have been losing and gaining those same two pounds since about late August. Screw you two pounds. I lose them, I gain them, then I gain them again (yeah, yeah I know that is technically four pounds but I did graduate from the AC so, it is two and then two more). Then I will just lose all of them and be back to the same weight I started! It is very frustrating and Lord knows I do not do frustration well. Thus, the cycle, -2+2-2+2+2. Ack! And now is it death's anniversary, job insecurity and any amount of shit I can come up with as an excuse to overeat and not follow my healthy eating habits. And I am terrified that those two damned pounds will open the gate for all fifty pounds to come back aboard.

But that is OK, you two evil pounds, I have a plan for you. It is called WW, I started last year in January and I plan on restarting in January.  Hell, our new insurance will even pay for my visits. Are you scared yet two pounds? Well, you should be because not only am I coming after you, I am coming after your little fat friends. Spread the word, you have one month to get your shit together and get the hell outta dodge. Because WW, healthy snacks, exercise are coming after you and you will not survive this battle!

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Three years

Today will be the anniversary of my mother-in-laws death. My Grandmother died 5 days before my MIL and my Pappy had died 6 months prior to them. I still don't think my heart has recovered. I re-read some of my posts on myspace tonight, where I blogged for about three years or so before I started blogging here. I wish I could tell you things were bright and happy full of love and hope then but you know, it would be a big fat lie. And for all my faults I try not to lie.

Thanksgiving is approaching and we still (we being Tony, my sisters and I) feel sorta disconnected. It not that we can't go anywhere for the holidays it is just that we are still trying to figure it out. We used to fit everyone in and celebrated for days now it is disjointed and we both still feel lost. I do get to go to Kim and Dad's, they are my rock, my constant. And I try very hard to ensure my sisters and I are in the same place at least once during the holiday season. And while I would like to see my mother, well, she is not interested as she already informed me she would not be celebrating Thanksgiving with us and for me not to get my panties in a twist. You know what Mom, I hope your turkey is dry, your stuffing is bland and your beer be skunked and also, you suck. So there.

*sigh* What else? Well, last night I went out with some of my old (haha) girlfriends from High school.  I will say that I did have a good time but (there is always a but with me) I still have never stopped feeling like the odd man out. I am weird, I am different and had I a bit of self-esteem I might celebrate that fact. However, with my self-esteem as poor as it is, I bemoan the fact. Different in my case is not good. I never am dressed appropriately. All three of them, torn jeans. Me, long, baggy fitting jeans (lost 52lbs). Them, two shirts, layered look. Me, tee-shirt, brown denim jacket. Them straight-hair, me nappy. Well, I am sure you get the picture. Did I look like Quasimodo? Probably not, did I feel like quasi, yeah pretty much. How is it that a successful woman such as myself feels like such a useless weirdo? I dunno, guess if I had the answer to that I could solve world hunger. (too lofty of a thought?)

I know that I probably wouldn't want to be "cookie-cutter" but damn it sometimes this square peg would like to fit into a round hole! Or if I am not going to fit in the round hole perhaps I can at least have on the right shoes?!

Well, enough of this trivial shit for tonight. Please my friends listen and listen close. Your loved ones will not be here forever. Hold them close, surprise them, hug them for me. Relish your stupid traditions, don't get mad when your Pappy tells you the same story for the 50th time, or don't not stop by when you are close. That 20 minutes it would take to say hello will be 20 more minutes you have with them. They love you and yes, they are annoying, but damn it when they are gone, your life will never be the same.

Friday, November 19, 2010


I have a case of the blues. Well, probably more than a case of the blues, more like, umm, a skid of the blues? Maybe a warehouse full of the blues. Yeah, I think that is more like it "A warehouse full of the blues!" Hum, yeah, so I think case of the blues is a little more user friendly so I guess I will stick with it. Anyway, I digress.

Why I am so sad? Hell, why ain't I sad is the better question. As I sit here with all my self-pity; I really just want to say, who really gives a shit why you are unhappy, again? It's not like you are Mrs. Perky-Fucking-Happy-Princess. I am never really happy about anything. Slow at work, bored, tired, whine, snort. Busy at work, overworked, tired, whine, snort. Things good at home? Never, things are terrible at home, but just like anyone else it could be worse. And dammit. I am tired of "could be worse". Why can't I be a "how's it going?", well," it's never been better" kinda girl?  Instead of, well, instead of me?

So I am guessing really that is the problem. Huh? You say. Where did you go? I think I just had an epiphany. Re-read the last line of the last paragraph (well, blog-agraph?). Instead of, well, instead of me?  Well, duh, Angie, how can I ever be happy if I don't want to be me? Who the hell else do I want to be? Why don't I deserve to be me? What the hell is so wrong with me that I don't even want to be myself? (And why we are on that subject does all the question words start with W? Total side note...)

I sit here and I think of a million reasons not to be me. I am fat and have bat-flappers for arms. Huge bat-flap-flap-flappers that I honestly think will fly me to the moon one day. Well, yeah, fat and bat-flappers suck but it doesn't mean I am not worth anything.

Another reason not to be me? I whine a lot. I mean, whine, whine, whine. I whine so much that several of my high-school teachers wrote inspiring messages in my senior year-book about "no whining" and "speak firmly". Totally helpful advice for an already fragile psyche, thanks. Although, I do have to say, whining while not an attractive habit, really not a reason to not be (ha, what a sentence).

More reasons not to be me? Well, let me help you, I am judgmental, hateful, dramatic, selfish, self-sacrificing till the point of uselessness, spoiled, princess-like and fuzzy-headed. I am stubborn to the point of stupidity and I am fat.

I really could go on and on. How much I suck and how crazy I am, two of my favorite subject right now.  I really honestly could talk about them endlessly. Not sure what I am accomplishing right now because when I talk about me and how much I suck people tell me the right things, they give me good advice, I am loved and liked and all of that good stuff and I am just too damned dumb to see it. What in the hell is wrong with me? OK, maybe I shouldn't ask that question because I might just receive an answer and that might be bad. Might, hell, I am sure it would be bad!

So, really, I have no more answers now then when I started. I have looked back at some of my old posts and well, really, I haven't moved forward. Nothing has changed. Years of hate and self-doubt, over-eating and sadness has gotten me nowhere. And I am saddened by that. I am sad that I can't move on, I am sad that I have wasted an inordinate amount of time on being sick in the head and hating myself. I am sad because our time on earth is limited and everyday that I am alive should be celebrated and be a joyful occasion not a burden. All my tears wasted. All this negative energy and emotion I put out further pollutes an already over-polluted world. And I am sick about it.

My sadness, it's a burden that I have gladly carried most of my life. I have loved it and catered to it. I have fostered this sadness and let it take on a life of it's own. But now, now, my friends I think it is time for the Sadness to hit the road. Perhaps I will buy Sadness some luggage for Christmas to help it on it's journey to cause someone else misery but this sad-chick is done. I can choose happiness, love and while it's scary, it has to happen. It's time for me to be OK with me.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Sleeplessness and other nonsense

Blah,blah,blah, I can't sleep. I know, I know, I get tired of hearing about this also. But I can't sleep. It goes in cycles, first starts the sleeplessness, then the depression, then I slept all the time and then repeat. I either can't get out of bed because I am sleeping or won't get out of bed because I am not sleeping. GAH! But I am guessing no one really gives two shits (ok, so why two shits? Anyone know? Anyone? Why not three shits or thirty-six shits? Who knows?!) about my sleeping or not-so-sleeping habits.

So what is on my mind? Currently, it is mostly stuff about work. Not like work in general but more work as in this is my profession. As most of you know, I am a nurse. Yeah, I know, what in the hell was I thinking? Well, let me fill you in on something, I wanted to never, ever be in the position that I had to stay with a man because I had no other skills, hell or high water I wanted a way out should I ever become unhappy. Probably not the best way to choose a profession. Yeah, I am sure that when I started nursing school I was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and full of great hopes of saving peoples lives and making a difference. Yeah, that was about the same time I promised myself and said and journaled, yes, journaled even, that I would NEVER, EVER, never, be one of those hateful ass bitchy nurses that says "you are choosing nursing as a profession?! What the hell is wrong with you!". Well, life is funny that way, can't you see me laughing? I have a list of things I never wanted to be when I started nursing even. Would you like to read said list?
  1. Always wanted to be encouraging to new nurses.
  2. Never be bitter.
  3. Never be that "poor" nurse. (You know, the one that drives the shit car and whose spouse doesn't work? The one that doesn't wear new scrubs or nice shoes?)
  4. Never supervise or be in any position other than bedside nursing.
Well, hell, I never really was that good at following rules even if they are my own. What happened? I dunno. According to my diary it was not a gradual shift. It pretty much went from, "I love nursing to I hate nursing". Still, I dunno what happened. I am sure that part of the issue is I didn't follow my rules, I became bitter, I stopped being encouraging, I let myself become a "poor" nurse and most recently I stepped away from bedside nursing. Where does that leave me? Well, with more unanswered questions, more headaches, lost sleep and worry.

I wonder when will I grow-up and decide what I want to be when I grow-up (hum, weirdly worded perhaps?). I had this all planned out in my head. Master's degree by 40, loving life, big house, kids, I had this shit all figured out. Too bad I lost the plans.