Showing posts with label fat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fat. Show all posts

Friday, June 8, 2012

Shake It Off

Y'all --

I've decided to shake the dust off of this blog........ or, actually PRUNE this here Cherry Tree.... so that it may bear fruit again.

I started doing this by first scrolling all the way to the bottom of the page and rereading my previous blog posts, top to bottom. I don't think I gave myself enough credit. I was feeling dried up, pudgy, and stupid, but I was, in fact, sort of eloquent as far as rambling goes. Hot, self. Hot. Werk it.

This first post back in action is going to involve a bit of housekeeping, probably some rhetorical questions, and a lot of open ends that trail off into nothing, nowhere. Sorry.

Looking at that first post -- it was cute how optimistic I was. It was good! I felt young, I felt optimistic, I felt as though I had a plan. But, as often happens to plans, it was dashed. SMITED. Just completely pulverized.  That lad I thought I'd marry bid me farewell right out of the blue, that job I was crossing my fingers to love is the bane of my existence, and has made me consider tattooing my forehead with an obscenity, dying my hair blue, flipping burgers, and taking up tossingcomputersoutofwindows as a hobby. The sleeping problem I made reference to before is not cured, and I have spent many a night over the last year and 8 months (exactly, actually, since I started this job and was dumped at the exact same time) wide awake and wondering what to do with myself. I've eaten and eaten and eaten until I was bigger than I ever have been. Things have been low. Not awful -- I don't think I'm depressed. I still see the good in the world - but I'm thoroughly jaded and cynical and rotten.

I'm trying to do things to counteract this. Some are half-assed, but in my current state I consider even those things to be minor victories. For example, I moved out of my old apartment and into a new one, this time with a roommate - someone I think will ultimately be a positive influence. I dare say I've slept more since I've moved in with her than I did in a full month while living alone, and we've only just been at our new place for 3 weeks. I'm eating more "complete" meals, so there is less bingeing, but this is not perfected. I have nothing to do with men. It's not on purpose, but I am in a phase (dear God, i hope it's a phase) where I have no one to even contemplate being interested in, and generally am focused only on myself, what I want (immediately and in the future), and how to heal from all of the things that disrupted my balance a couple of years back. I was chrismated in the Orthodox church, and am trying, fitfully, to live by what I know to be right. This is all very hard for me. Much harder than I think it should be, and I'm not sure why.  I always thought that these years of instability were over and done with by the ripe age of what I'll go ahead and call "almost 25".... but this is where I am, and it seems, try as I might, where I will be for a little bit longer. I hope that I can come out of it all in a certain light. Something that goes like this: calm, joyful, lean, strong, peaceful, eager, understanding, thoughtful, wise, generous, sympathetic, and pure. I wonder if that can come true.

On another note -- which may or may not be unrelated: I have discovered a love. A passion, really, for Elvis Presley. I love Elvis. I could write a book, I could go on for days, I could cry over it. I do cry over it. I'm not lying, not exaggerating, not being a lunatic (sincerely), when I say that I love Elvis. I've always liked listening to his songs (though I didn't let my dad know that, lest I would've been coerced to hear nothing but Elvis every day of my dependent life), but the infatuation only came about on this past Christmas Eve. My family was driving to church, and listening to Elvis' Christmas album. Good friends, this is the best selling Christmas album of all time. Or at least tied with Bing Crosby's. But as we were listening, I realized that I really didn't know a darned thing about the man singing. I really hadn't even a clue as to when he was born, popular, or died (though, you'd think I could infer those things based on the way the music sounded -- but common sense often eludes me).  So I pulled up his Wikipedia page (I've mentioned before how much I love a good Wikipedia stalk) and I proceeded to read the longest, most detailed Wiki I've ever seen before. Ever. And I loved it. I just soaked it in. So as it turns out, Elvis was born on January 8, 1935 to Vernon and Gladys Presley in Tupelo, MS. He had a stillborn twin brother, named Jessie. Friends, I just couldn't stop reading. It was love at first... read... I suppose. From there I looked at pictures, and watched countless hours of YouTube videos again and again and again. I've joined fan clubs, read every site and snipit of information I could get my paws on. Every interview, listening to every song. Watching every movie I have the opportunity to. Saving and planning to purchase biographies, DVDs, albums, you name it. Since my dad is a lifelong Elvis fan, he has been so kind as to give me some old ticket stubs to a concert in '73, some old albums, and even a tiny piece of one of Elvis' scarves (be still my heart). I've never been so pleased that my family has a 1957 Chevrolet. It's just perfect. No, I don't think Elvis is alive. But I wish he was. And I talk to him sometimes, sort of like you might talk to a deceased relative. Sort of like when you talk out loud to God. I hope Elvis is with God. I think he is, and at least that makes me feel better. This all might seem absurd, but I don't mind if it does. As I said at the beginning of this paragraph -- this may or may not be unrelated to the other things that have happened in the past few years of my life. In some ways, Elvis is the man that I lost and will never have. In some ways, the things that he went through at a personal and emotional level remind me of what I'm dealing with and searching for myself. So, as his kindred spirit, I love him. It's personal to me. I'm going to Graceland in 3 weeks, and it's going to be a lot more than a tour in an old house-turned museum for me. I'll write about it sometime when I get back.



But for now, I try to focus on drinking water, laughing whenever possible, signing up for yoga classes, and listening to Elvis charm the pants off of men and women alike for the 21 years he was an international star.

Thank you, thankyouverymuch. You're a wonderful audience.

Goodnight.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Truth AND fricking Dare

Here's the truth:

The truth is that I feel fat. It's because i HAVE fat. I am not so dumb as to think that I AM fat... because I'm thinking (hoping) that there are still bones and organs and muscles and stuff in there too. But I've got more than enough to spare.

This is probably a reasonable spot to break and reiterate that my blog is about honesty. And this is totally RAW.

Back to fat. I gain it all in my stomach. I hate it. I used to be a toothpick (growing up, after eating a super size fry from McDonald's), but of course that changes with age. I'm still in my 20s, but the fat loves to invite itself in and take up residence in all the wrong places so that I feel like a stuffed sausage in my work clothes. The worst part (maybe?) about this is that I am 5'5" and weigh somewhere around 130-135 lbs. Which i KNOW is not the size that would cause anyone alarm. As in.. it's normal height/weight distribution. But my frame is really the type that gravitates toward size 2. As in 115ish pounds. So i feel like a stuffed sausage, like I said. No, I changed my mind.. THIS is the worst part: It's all because I'm a binge eater. It's the most unheralded of eating disorders, but it's real, and I can vouch for it. I eat and eat and eat when no one is looking. 1,000 calories in 15 minutes, easy. Maybe not artery clogging binges like some binge eaters have, but the type of eating where I'm not hungry, eating my feelings, and totally out of control. Just numb. Can't stop. And I do it alone, at night... and then I can't sleep properly, and then I'm tired. So I look horrible. Fat and tired isn't cute on ANYONE. And then I hate myself for it. And swear to stop. But the next day when I'm a stuffed sausage again at work, I feel bad and I eat my feelings. I can't get on track. And i feel so stupid for lacking the self control to eat properly. I just want to be a normal healthy size. Another kicker? I run half marathons. Yeah, you can be a chubster, and crank out 13.1 miles at a 10 min/mile pace. Even the running isn't helping me. What can I do? I am.. was... claim to be... a Christian. I certainly still believe, but I've fallen away. I find my Bible collecting dust, haven't gone to church more than 4 times in the past year, avoid praying, roll my eyes at God, find myself cursing Him, skip over Bible verses in others blog posts. I mean how the HELL (ha, right?) did I let Satan get such a grasp? That, of course, makes the whole eating/self-hating situation worse. And all the lack of sleep and issues getting dressed (because, you know, of my fat) mean that I'm late for work more than I should be. So then I get busted, and then I have a grumpy boss. And then I eat. It always comes back to eating and not sleeping. Even now, I should be asleep, but I feel like it's important to empty all of this out of my head and into some sort of unbiased reservoir. If anyone ever does read this, know that I'm not distrubed (I promise :) ... I'm just frustrated. And very honest. No one really thinks I'm fat.. we're all our own worst critics, but for now, as I have let Satan in, I see when I look at myself:

fat, tired, anything but punctual, scatter-brained, slow, awkward, unproductive, and confused.


And NO ONE... I can't think of a soul... wants to think of themselves in this light. Or rather, darkness.


Here's the dare:

I dare myself to change. I know what I need to change. Maybe it will help to say it. And to be concise....

-pray
-love (God, others, and myself)
-have patience
-be considerate (to my body, to myself, to my boss, my friends, my family)
-try
-give myself credit, when credit is due

I can't do it. But He can.

Now I have to believe that instead of just writing it. I want to become pure. That's what was missing. I want to be PURE.