30 Days of Militant Self Care: Days 12-24

This post about self care is both extremely late and extremely ahead.  In explaining my absence, I don't have much to say besides I'm sorry.  To myself mainly, for not being as diligent as I should have been.  Taking care of myself is something I easily sacrifice in ways.  And it is not okay.  I usually put more effort into taking care of others than myself.  I'm working on it.  One of the things I'm doing for myself right now is looking into buying a house, which is so exciting but so damn stressful at the same time.

Day 12: Treat Yo Self.

Probably one of my favorite episodes of Parks and Recreation is Treat Yo Self.  In the show, the idea is to be lavish and buy things that maybe you don't even need.  But in terms of self care, this idea doesn't need to be lavish.  It can be something small.  For me, I indulged in a piece of apple pie and didn't judge myself for eating it.  Which is pretty revolutionary for me.  I struggled with an eating disorder and used to spend a lot of time criticizing myself for what I would eat.  Then I sank into a point where I hated myself so much that I didn't care what I ate because I didn't deserve to be happy.  So now, I am working myself into a place where I want to do better but I don't hate myself if I fail.  And it's going okay.

Day 13: How's it going? Has this been fun, helpful, inspiring, frustrating?

I'm good.  From the beginning of the year, things have been rough.  But I am finally in a good place.  I've been able to put the Listening Ear situation behind me, knowing that I did all I could and that now it is not my problem anymore.  I still absolutely love my job and know that I'm in a secure place financially.  I am actually in a place where I'm not surviving day to day.  I'm actively planning for my future and the best move for myself and it means so much.  That is what this challenge has been for me. Using these self care prompts to really think about my life and realize that I am in a beautiful place with amazing friends and family, and that I'm genuinely happy.  It means the world to me.

Day 14: Do something Fall related.

This one was pretty easy because I absolutely adore the crisp fall air.  So I drove with the windows down and let the cool air pour over me.  It was divine.  Also all the apple cider around has been lovely.

Day 15: If you could add one thing to your day, what would it be? If you could change one thing that's no longer serving you, what would it be?

More hours!  I feel like I could accomplish so much more with more time.  I would be able to get a full night of sleep, and get up and work out, and have a full day of work, plus actually accomplish adult things like laundry and cleaning the kitchen.  One thing that never really served me besides stress relief is my smoking habit.  Which I am working on gradually.  I went almost a full week without smoking, and have since weaned myself down to only 2-4 cigarettes a day, instead of 5-7.  The most important part is knowing that it is a work in progress and that if I slip up, I can always try again.  Learning to be less hard on myself has been a huge part of this challenge for me.

Day 16: What's your bullshit and how are you going to use the next two weeks to challenge it?

Procrastination.  Fuck, I am so skilled at it.  I will wait until I have nothing clean to wear for work, and then like rewear a skirt or pair of pants, and then I'll do laundry.  So I've been keeping myself up on taking care of my responsibilities.  Although the laundry and kitchen need attention today...meh...

Day 17: Get that shit out of your face.

As previously mentioned, I'm working on keeping my shit picked up and organized.  To stop waiting until the last minute to do stuff.  It's a work in progress, but at least I'm working on it.

Day 18: Support a friend.

This is one of my favorites because it is something that I try to do daily anyway.  One thing I said to my therapist a couple weeks ago was that when I love someone, not just romantically but as friends too, I will do anything to help them.  Whether it is loaning money or buying dinner or being a listener or making sure they smile that day, I love my friends.  I want them to know how much I love them.  That I would do anything for them.  I want to know that whenever my time is up, that what people will remember most about me is that I loved people and I stood behind that love.

Day 19: Say no. It's ok to say no.

There's nothing in particular this day that I said no to, but it made me think about how much I hate saying no to people.  I have spent most of my life feeling like a disappointment, that I wasn't good enough.  So in my low self esteem, I didn't want to be another disappointment to people.  I often sacrificed my own comfort to make sure not to say no.  But I am trying to remember that in saying no, I'm honoring myself.  Not just being a disappointment.  It's okay to say no.  It's okay to say no.  It's okay to say no.

Days 20-24: Disconnect.

Here's where I get both behind and ahead.  Our fearless leader is taking her own time to disconnect from technology.  So I am going to try and do the same in some ways.  I'm going to focus more on spending time with people I love.  Working on things that bring me joy, especially working with my hands.  So I hope others do the same.  When we get to the end of our lives, it is those moments we will remember.  I'll remember the times I spent with my best friend Mary, painting and watching Harry Potter.  I'll remember the times I spent making art or writing stories.  I'll remember the times I felt loved and whole.  I'm not going to remember that random article I read on Facebook or the weird video I watched once on Youtube.  I'm living my life to the fullest, as I can, every day.  I'm even on the verge of tears just writing this.  I'm happy.  And I'm going to keep fighting for that.

Stay tuned for more adventures in militant self care after this brief hiatus of disconnection!

Hey Subconscious, What's Your Issue?

Last night, I had a dream about my exes.  I only have two of them, but both relationships were milestones in my sexual and romantic life.

Neither ended particularly well.

The first was exacerbated by an emotionally abusive situation outside of my relationship. He was my first love and it was a big step for me to be involved emotionally and sexually after my assault.  We met online and clicked immediately.  After a brief period of friendship, we both realized we wanted more.  I told him about my fears, about what had happened to me, and how I was scared of opening up sexually with someone.  He was amazing. The problem was when it ended, I lost his friendship as well my first love.  I moved back home shortly after to deal with the rest of the problems and had to completely severe ties in order to get over him.

After I moved back, I went out a couple times with my second ex but I wasn't ready for a relationship. And I wasn't sure how I felt about him. But we got to know each other as friends and I worked on healing from the first break up.  Eventually I realized there were feelings there, and I made a move.  It was a huge step for me to open up more sexually. And with him, it felt right.  But it ended, badly, and I'm still working on getting over it.

Last night in the dream, I was at a party and they were both there. I was talking to my first ex for a quite a while, and then my second ex said he was leaving. I went to walk him out, and he confronted me over my happiness, to which I burst into tears and he held me. And that's when I woke up.  I really don't know how to take this. I keep waffling between being ready to move on and wanting to curl into a ball and cry forever.

Why is getting over someone so damn painful?  It doesn't help that my life is a giant question mark of suck lately.  I'm not going back to school, which I've reconciled myself with just fine.  But job searching is exhausting. I want to work on writing and finishing my novel so I can publish.  I've got a freelance job but it hasn't paid out yet and is hit and miss anyway. I'm helping a friend with stuff which she is paying me for doing.  I'm even trying to sell my art on Etsy. But this is still not enough.  I'm lucky I have savings. But I can easily eat through it without any supplemental income.

I'm trying so hard to stay positive. But it is utterly and completely exhausting to try and fix and be happy with everything in my life.  I don't want to get back with either of my exes.  But I miss having someone I can talk to about everything.  Someone who would hold me when I needed to feel safe or was crying.  I know I have amazing friends who are here for me, but it isn't the same.  I just feel so broken and don't know how to put the pieces back together.

That Utter Feeling of Failure...Whoooo

I can't say that 2016 has had a great start so far.  The new year has found me recently single, jobless, and my dream of getting my PhD and being a professor was crushed. Or rather, put on hold for the foreseeable future.  On top of that suck salad is the sucky dressing of mental illness.  So it is safe to say that I've been having a shitty year, and it's only February.

I'm not one to handle that inadequate feeling well.  Having depression, anxiety, and PTSD already breeds self animosity.  Extra additions of feeling not good enough just add fuel to the fire.  Oh boy, watch that blaze burn!

I've struggled with self esteem issues since I was young.  As a youth, dealing with depression and not even knowing what it was, I struggled in my friendships.  I had people around me that cared, but I felt that I really only had one friend.  My mom and I were in a serious car accident the summer of 2001.  It was a horrible ordeal and one of the worst parts was my metabolism changed.  Instead of being the stick figure kid I had always been, it became incredibly difficult to lose weight and incredibly easy to put weight on.  Every since then, I have been the funny, fat friend.  So self esteem slaughter all over the place.

This continued through high school and college and post college and grad school and post grad school. Ok, you get the point.  It's a complex that has followed me my entire life.  Which didn't exactly make dating easy.  I used to be really outgoing.  I had no problem telling a guy that I thought he was cute.  But after you get told what a great friend you are and how much personality you have, you stop sharing your feelings.  I didn't have my first kiss until I was 18.  I was sexually assaulted at 21, which made my self esteem plummet.  I didn't have a serious relationship until I was 24. And I didn't lose my virginity until I was 26.  When you have a person rob you of your safety and sexuality, it's hard to open up that way to other people again.

So feelings of inadequacy are deeply instilled in my personality.  This gets brought up easily with the end of a relationship. And every time you get a job rejection email.  And when you don't get accepted to fulfill your dream of going for your PhD.  So it's safe to say my self esteem started at an all time low this year.  But, I'm not giving up.  I may not be following the path I always expected.  But I'm making the path my own.

I've worked so hard on my art and selling it on Etsy.  I've gotten a freelance writing gig for a firm in LA doing book to film pitches.  I'm working harder than ever on my novel, so I can look for book agents soon.  Being unemployed has allowed me train new volunteers which I have wanted to do for a year and a half and couldn't because of my schedule.  I've been able to train to be a medical advocate again and now I'm able to do short term counseling for survivors.

My life isn't all together.  I can't even come close to admitting it is.  But I'm trying. I'm doing everything I can to make it.  Because giving up isn't an option. Some of my dreams may not be coming true right now, but that isn't stopping me from making other ones happen.

Self Love in Today's Society

It’s not a huge shocker that diets are all the rage and body shaming is at an all-time high (or low really, if you think about it).  Society is constantly telling everyone, but especially females, what they need to be, to look like, etc.  So it gets incredibly difficult to be okay with yourself when everything around you is contradictory.

I used to hate myself.  Really, I’m not joking.  I absolutely hated myself.  I didn’t think I was cute or pretty or beautiful.  I was constantly critiquing every aspect of my body.  My stomach wasn’t flat enough or my was butt too big.  My pores on my nose were just huge and disgusting.  My hair was never the right color.  I was smart, but not smart enough.  I didn’t have any useful talents.  Every day, every look in the mirror, all I felt was disappointment and hatred.

And then after a long time and a lot of mental reprogramming, I came to a pretty interesting conclusion.  I decided to love myself.  And tell society to fuck off. 

The road to that realization was long and difficult, but ultimately worth it.  I got sick of thinking I wasn’t enough.  We have a finite number of days on this world, so why was I spending it seeped in hatred and depression?  Not worth it.

So I began to love myself.  I stopped judging myself every time I looked in the mirror.  I stopped calorie counting.  I stopped comparing myself to other women.  I stopped telling myself she was prettier or thinner.  I just stopped.

It wasn't easy.  It was one of the most difficult things I've ever done.  To reprogram my mind to cease being so negative to myself.  I still have moments even now.  I don’t think it is something that will ever completely go away, but it is certainly more contained.

Am I the ideal weight I want to be?  No.  But no longer do I feel the desperate need to lose weight.  I know that a lot of it is trying to fit in exercise, which is my weakness.  I need companionship or I can’t motivate myself enough to do it.  I've learned to love the body I have.  I realized that there are guys out there that don’t care.  Crazy, right?!  Society has been telling me all along that guys only like you when you’re skinny…those fucking liars!  I’m curvy and bodacious and I still had a boyfriend.  So yeah, being skinny does not equal finding meaningful relationships.  And if your partner says you being skinny is prerequisite for the relationship, then he/she’s an asshole.  Anyone worth having in your life will love you for exactly who you are.  Waist size and all. 

The point is to be healthy.  And that means both sides.  On one hand, your food choices should be healthier.  Eat more veggies and fruits, better fats and proteins.  But on the other hand, don’t starve yourself or constantly work out.  Eating disorders don’t just cover “fat” people.  They’ve advanced enough to label work out anorexia.  Stop the I-need-to-lose-three-pounds bullshit.  Don’t be a Regina George!

Also we need to stop shaming each other, “fat” or “thin.”  Those are in quotes by the way, because they are arbitrary terms.  It’s subjective.  We need to appreciate ourselves and other women and men for who they are and what size they are.  I’m goddamn sick of living in a society that doesn’t accept that I’m a pretty awesome person no matter my goddamn jeans size.  Which is a 14, by the way.  Yeah, I got hips and a butt.  And they look damn good.

I’m going up north next weekend to the beach.  And I’m wearing a bikini.  And if anyone has anything to say about that, they can suck it.  Because I love my body and everyone else should accept that.  *insert me giving the middle finger to society here*

Throwback Tuesday: Old Journal Entries

As a writer, I’ve amassed numerous journals over the years.  Seldomly do I actually fill out the whole journal.  Instead, I write a few pages and abandon it.  Eventually getting a new one and repeating the same process.  With new novel ideas that I’ve been expanding, I’ve gone back to these abandoned works to use them.  Most recently the journal that I opened up had a couple entries from 2008.  After reading them, I decided they would make good entries on here.  Some have been edited for content.

November 24, 2008

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I lost faith in Catholicism, but it was somewhere between my sophomore year in high school and my sophomore year in college.  When I had attempted to kill myself in 8th grade, I figured I was a lost soul anyway.  Raised by my mother to be Roman Catholic, I always figured I was a fairly faith oriented person.  Trying to kill myself didn’t change that.  My mother didn’t learn about the incident until years until years later.  Thinking back, if she had known, she probably would have had me committed.  

For being raised in a heavy faith way, I didn’t think about it much.  I went to Catholic school, I went to church, and I “prayed,” which meant I bowed my head and though of something else for a few minutes.  I learned about God, but I never thought about God.  I went to church, but I never really felt the communal connection.  Eventually, I was just living through the motions.  

My high school (redacted), indulged students by giving them a day each year where we could wear jeans and get out of school; otherwise known as retreat day.  By grade, we would relocate to a retreat center and spend the day learning about Jesus in different ways.  Some of the activities were pretty cool.  My sophomore year retreat had culminated with prayer in the chapel followed by mass.  During quiet prayer time, I felt this urge to kneel.  While kneelers were provided, I opted for the stone floor.  I remember my friends giving me a couple shrewd looks but eventually ignoring me.  I thought about things in my life that upset me: my parents not being together, my general overwhelming alone feeling, and all the car related issues I have.  I finally focused on my life altering car crash of 2000.  I started thinking “why?” over and over.  My pathetic mantra of self-justification.  I suddenly got tight in the chest as I begged God, in my head, to give me a sign that I’m worth something; my eyes overflowed with tears.  There was a hand resting on my shoulder.  I figured it was a teacher coming to ask me what was wrong or a friend comforting me while silently wondering if I had lost it.  I opened my eyes and looked to see whose hand was tightly gripping my shoulder.  No one was there.  I looked back to the cross hanging behind the altar.  I burst into tears again as the feeling lifted off me.  My sign from God.

After that, I put more effort into understanding my religion and attempting to be more involved.

Today

Learning more about Catholicism is what I can admit started pushing me away.  Today I look at that experience as my sign of a higher power, but not the religion in which I used to believe.  I’m very skeptical of organized religion now, but I still believe there is more out there “higher” than me.  For more about my perspective on this topic, check out my other post here.

August 12, 2009

I figured out something today.  Something I knew for myself, but hadn’t necessarily applied further.  I discovered that humans are nothing more than insignificant specks.  We parade around in our flashy clothes, flashier cars, and even flashier attitudes.  People decorate their closets with the highest end designers, get numerous cars that they barely drive, purchase several properties and lavishly style them even though they almost never stay in them.  And all it is, is a mask.  A cleverly disguised rouse.  And everyone is falling for it.

What people don’t get is that it doesn’t matter what car is in the driveway or if you have a pool or social status.  From 30,000 feet everyone is an insignificant ant.  You can be squished or eliminated, you won’t be missed.  Seriously, there are plenty of specks.  

Obviously, I’m not condoning taking a life.  I’m just saying people shouldn’t take life so seriously.  Sometimes you need to just drop everything and do something spontaneous.  Like run away to Ireland for five days.  I’m not the poster child for being impetuous.  But maybe with just a little bit of change, great things could happen for myself.  I guess the question is if I’m ready to jump… can I learn to let go?  Or will I always be trapped by my fear and inability to be brave?  I can’t stand feeling like a failure in any aspect of my life.  That’s in both not trying and trying and failing.  But if I always live my life in “quiet desperation” won’t I be just as miserable?

So I have to choose between the dissatisfaction of never getting out there or the fear of getting out there.  It’s a bitchy choice, but I have to make it.

Today

I’ve lightened up a lot about my life, and I think part of that comes from my self esteem getting much better.  I still struggle with “getting out there” and dealing with failing.  But as wise author Maureen Johnson once said, it’s okay to suck.  Embrace the suck.  She’s quite right, because while I’m perfectly excited to work on my novel, I know the first draft is not going to be amazing.  But since I know how to deal with my suck, I will move forward and make things better.  Don’t get me wrong, my fragile ego is still hoping my first draft is good enough but I’m ready when it’s not.