First Impressions.

Define: Super

In my world Super is exactly it’s opposite.  Super! I got a speeding ticket. Or I am Super excited for my root canal.

Well today I made a SUPER first impression on the supervisors taking over for Big Ones worker.  I was major major majorly anxious, I was frazzled. I thought I had locked myself out of the house and had to go get the hidden key. I felt like I was running and talking like a million miles a minute. The first thing I did was take 2 valium.

I have been feeling like crap all day, dizzy, just “off” I am not sure if it’s the new Luvox or something else but I feel crappy.  I had dropped little one off at karate, traded cars with hubby and then I took both sets of keys.  I had my keys the whole time, so I never needed the hidden key, and I took hubbys so he was stranded.

What an impression. I must have seemed like a crazy lunatic. I am so tired today.  Last night I slept horribly! So horribly that I banged my face against the pellet stove next to my bed.  I really need to talk to my doctor – something is just not right.

And to add insult to injury my “new to me” car is having some issues and the buckle seatbelt alarm won’t stop going off no matter how far I drive.  It’s enough to drive someone who wasn’t crazy- CRAZY, but since I already am crazy it made things even worse.

I am ready for bed and it’s only 7:30pm.  Thank goodness I have the chiropractor tomorrow.  But then I have to see PollyAnna.

John Mayer- In the Blood

How much of my mother has my mother left in me?How much of my love will be insane to some degree?

And what about this feeling that I’m never good enough?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?
How much of my father am I destined to become?

Will I dim the lights inside me just to satisfy someone?

Will I let this woman kill me, or do away with jealous love?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?
I can feel love the I want, I can feel the love I need

But it’s never gonna come the way I am

Could I change it if I wanted, can I rise above the flood?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

How much like my brothers, do my brothers wanna be?
Does a broken home become another broken family?

Or will we be there for each other, like nobody ever could?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel love the I want, I can feel the love I need
But it’s never gonna come the way I am

Could I change it if I wanted, could I rise above the flood?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel the love I want, I can feel the love I need
But it’s never gonna come the way I am

Could I change it if I wanted, can I rise above the flood?

Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?


My brother introduced me to the song yesterday, and I can’t stop listening to it and the highlighted text or what gets me the most they’re questions I ask myself often. I know there’s a lot of my dad and me and I wish there wasn’t any. And I know there’s some of my mom and me; some that I like, and some that I don’t. I’ve often dimmed the light inside myself just so people will like me. 

This song just resonated with me so much. I think despite whether he wants to admit it or not my brother and I have a lot of pain in common. He said today we are birds of a feather and I agree- in more ways than one.

Tired of being depressed

I know.  Sometimes I’m a whiny freak.  Especially lately.  But lately I’ve just gotten to the point that I’m sick of this. I don’t know how much more I can take. 

I’m sick of being depressed. Sick of being sad/mad/angry/irritated/joyless.  I’m tired of intrusive unwanted thoughts creeping into my head. 

I’m tired of getting up to the same thing day after day not seeing any improvement.  

I’m sick of my financial life being at the will and mercy of the state. 

I’m sick of being anxious and all the symptoms that go along with that. 

I’m sick of all my rules routines rituals and behaviors from my OCD.

I want it all to end.  I want the pain, the sadness, the anger to be exchanged with happiness, joy and patience.  

I want to be the person I’ve always wanted to be, but have never had the chance.  Because long before “the breakdown”, I was wearing a mask, I was a facade, a shell.  I don’t even know who I am. But someday I’d like to find out. 

But will someday ever come?

Why Did I “Go Public”

My brother said to me “I thought you wanted to be anonymous”, and he’s right, which is why no names of anyone of my family has been used.  But since my posts about masks it’s been knawing at me that it’s time to stop hiding behind my words and “out” myself.  A little at a time but out myself nonetheless.

As Promised Zero/The Fool

Last night, one of my blogs was done with speech to text because like right now my hands were so numb it was painful. Anyway, I don’t remember which word it was but Siri assumed I said “zero”.  For some reason, that triggers a memory I hadn’t had in a LONG time.  Probably decades.  My dad’s “nickname” for me was Zero zero-

And he would actually use his fingers and thumb to make the zero sign when referring to me.  And when I wasn’t Zero I was “Fool”


That up there is exactly what I pictured every time he called me “fool”.  He didn’t just do it when he was angry with me, he did it all the time.  I still don’t understand how they could be misconstrued as terms of endearment, they weren’t.  They hurt, and now that I remember them, in a place other than my subconscious they hurt again.

Something else I remembered last night when I remembered this is whenever I would make a mistake, or do something dumb he would break out into song and dance:

It didn’t matter if it was a small mistake, or a colossal error like leaving a toy in the wrong space. My brother reminded me that we went to friendlys in our Jammies one night and I’m accidentally spilled my ice cream, and he said “I wish you’d take a walk for me down the yellow brick road”.  It’s no wonder I have an insane fear of getting an answer wrong, doing something wrong, or upsetting someone.  If I can ask you to, close your eyes, imagine yourself as a small child, and you had the audacity to answer a question wrong.  Then press play on the video above.  Now all of a sudden imagine you as a child, sitting there and your father breaking out into song and dance instead of the scare crow. Really listen to the words the scarecrow says, imagine he’s singing about your…  Imagine that your name was no longer princess, sweetie, buddy, it was zero or fool.  Imagine the person you would become. That’s me. No self worth, no self love, feeling like no one should love a fool.

I think of all the things in my head right now, PTSD is the hardest to control.  I can’t help it when I memory surfaces.  When something you had no recollection of suddenly intrudes into your brain and you can’t get it out.  There are a couple more I have had in the past couple days, that I will get around to sharing but for today, I am sad enough wallowing  remembering this…..


And Now Post #3 Today And finally an unmasking

Why is midnight my witching hour? Midnight my brain goes into overdrive. And all these things that I don't have time to think about all day I start thinking about.

Tonight is the night I stop blurring my face.  I am going to expose my face to the blog world.  My real name I still am holding back on, but maybe some of you have been reading and thought you knew me, and you were right.  Other's you may have wondered what I look like.  Well tonight, you get to see me, in all different shapes and sizes.

It started after we finished The Blacklist, I put on my 600lb life, I barely had started watching it, when I paused it.  My sister in law asked me yesterday why I watch it.  The best answer I could give her was that I liked to watch their transformation.  Some of them are at their lowest point physically and emotionally, and you see a transformation inside and out.  Others you see no transformation, because the truth is they aren't ready to change. And then there are those who transform their outside and not their insides.  And those are the people I relate to the most. The ones who look different on the outside but their insides are the same.

As I have mentioned I have struggled with my weight my entire life. But focusing just on the last 4 years I have gone from 235, to 147, to 195 to 156, and now I am 240ish pounds (it's been a couple weeks since I have been weighed and I am packing on pounds like there is not tomorrow.  I do have denial as to how much I eat, but I honestly and truly do not eat enough to be gaining the amount of weight I am gaining.

When I lost weight from 235-147 I counted calories. I weighed, measured, and portion controlled everything I ate. I was a runner.  I started with the couch to 5K program, and then started competing in 5K races.  My best time was November 23, 2013 I believe I did the 5K in just under 35 minutes.  That day I was skinny.  I was in shape. People noticed me.  But I still wasn't happy.  I had transformed my outside, but not my inside.

Im going to show you transformations in my outsides – you have seen my insides the past couple months. I am depressed, angry, sad, and broken. And in every one of these pictures the inside was exactly the same.  I hated myself at my skinniest and my fattest.

These were me, 5/2012 and 6/2012, around 235lbs, before I decided to make a change.  That day happened on January 2, 2013

These were me 7-8 months into my journey.  In the pic on the right I am wearing size 4 pants and a small shirt.

At my thinnest 11/2013 147.  The day I had my best 5K time. I thought I was fat, and still had a ways to go (even though my goal weight was 135) there were still problem areas, skin that hung etc.  I still didn't like me.

Then my husband got sick.  We thought cancer, lyme disease we didn't know.  He lost his job and I returned to old habits.

And here I was July 2014, back around 180/190.  I got to 195 according to my doctor's scale. In August 2015 I decided to try something new.  Beachbody 21 Day fix.  It yielded results and quickly

This was just 3 months into the program, The top was round 2 (after completing 2 rounds, and the bottom after completing 3).  The pic on the bottom right was my favorite, no back rolls, toned legs….

And just before I fell off the wagon again- me in Dec 2015 157 pounds. I look at that pic and can't even imagine seeing that waist. I can remember bounding up my stairs, not out of breath.


This is one of the last pics I have of myself, taken May 6th this year. I am approximately 240 pounds.

As you can see I have seen a fluctuation of 100lbs up and down up and down. And the only thing the girl in all those pictures has is a fake smile with the pain behind it, that girl hates herself in every picture. She believes herself to be worthless.

I cried a great deal tonight with hubby, because I don't know what to do.  I feel like it's all or nothing.  Either I eat what I want and live in a body I feel trapped in, or I eat like food is nothing more than gasoline with no enjoyment and I look like I did before.  Neither place is happy. I feel like there is no middle ground. I am an addict.  How do you tell an addict moderation is key? Only have 1 shot, 1 hit, 1 small scoop of ice cream? You can't.

Im stuck.  Now, hubby would say I am remiss to mention that between the Dec 2015 pic and the pic of today I had a massive hip injury that I will finally be getting surgically fixed in a couple weeks, which should allow me a more active lifestyle again… but in order to WANT that lifestyle the depression has to subside, and I see no end in sight for that… so again I am stuck. There I am world, vulnerable, and real.

I know this entire post seems rather bleak. It seems self pitying.  It seems negative.  But it's how I feel tonight. I feel lost.  I feel hopeless. I feel like I am worth nothing. And part of that comes from an intrusive PTSD memory I had tonight.  But it being almost 1:30am eastern time it's time for me to sign off.  So tomorrow I will tell you the story of the zero.  The fool.


** I DO NOT exaggerate on how I feel about myself.  When I am say I am ugly, or hate myself I believe it.  I ask for no platitudes or disagreements.  No matter how many times hubby has said I am beautiful to him- I don't believe and I don't know if I ever will.***

I remember now…

I was having a hard time with my train of thought my last post and I remembered minute ago when I really wanted to write about…

As I was looking through my Facebook feed and all the people having barbecues are going to the beach or camping and I was laying on the couch covered under my fleece blanket in my protective little shell I was thinking how badly I felt for my children that their summer is going to be their mother not wanting to leave the house their mother recovering from multiple surgeries. Thankfully even though he hates the beach hubby has said he will bring them to the lake nearby so they’ll get to do their swim lessons and play with their friends. But every year we do a nice memorial day barbecue kick off and have a fire and not this year I just didn’t have it in me.  Hubby neither. His depression isn’t improving either.  At least big one got to go over to his friends house tonight watch a double feature on a big screen outside and have a cook out.  Thank God for good friends/neighbors.