If I Can Have Less Stress Please

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Before last year I worked in the customer service and sales industry my entire life. There always seemed to be not much to distinguish which came first: my foul mood or my cranky customers. Did they give me a foul mood or are they cranky because I am in a horrible mood? I feel like that is representative of life in general. I want to believe that if I put out goodness I’ll get back goodness, you know, the whole Karma concept. However, I have been thinking even further that when I put out gratitude and good vibes I feel them more in my soul. Maybe, fake it til’ you make it?

With fibromyalgia and the tense pelvic issues, I am supposed to be stress free. That can be one of the most important things when dealing with chronic illness, which to me feels very ridiculous to me. Most people can’t be without stress. Life can be filled with extraneous stress that I can’t control. Also, what a luxury is it to have a disease that requires me to cut out all that is stressful in my life? I come from a long line of working people: fire fighters, truck drivers, oil field workers, and stay at home moms. These are people who had no time to complain or feel over stressed. It is a tradition of self-sacrifice mindset I am working against. Physical and spiritual toughness is something valued not just in the culture I came from but all over. It is hard not to feel shame when I need down time or to take care of myself in seemingly extravagant ways. If I didn’t have these health issues I am sure I would be just like all the other strong Oklahoma women, who soldier on through all sorts of stress and against all odds no time outs to speak of, but I do.

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I have no choice. See if I have too much stress or over exert my body I end up in debilitating pain. I have fibromyalgia which knots up my muscles so much my doctor called them waves, because they feel like waves to the touch. When they are knotted like that it is hard to move my limbs. Also with more stress this pelvic problem gets worse so I am doubled over in pain. So I am far more productive if I don’t take in stress. I am more productive over all if I take breaks. To that end, I have to embrace this new Oprah- Zen – hippy-fied- mindful – self-care mindset, and I don’t have the luxury of feeling guilty about it anymore. I must embrace it as if it were how I was raised. So I thought I would share some of the things I am doing to embrace my new more stress free lifestyle.

1. I don’t talk politics with people who yell. Actually, I don’t talk to anyone who yells. I just can’t deal with that anymore. Passion can be portrayed other ways. I’m just done allowing that in my life. I’ve learned it’s not productive to talk back when people are that upset.
2. I don’t watch the news. I know that is a horrible thing to say but I have the internet. I can read. If anything big is happening in the world I see it there. The news is always bad. I don’t want to constantly be upset about things I cannot change. So many times I take the news into my heart and it stresses me out. I know enough trust me. I get the news from places where people write thoughtful discourse. I research candidates for elections and when I have a chance to vote I know how to get informed.
3. I cultivate my social media feeds to be stress free. If someone is spouting hateful stuff I can’t listen to it anymore. I have added a lot of people who inspire me; people who are general trying to recognize what is good in our life. Facebook is less good for this. On Facebook I am friends with everyone, but I have chosen not to have certain people’s posts go to my Facebook if they are usually political and usually mean.If you would go through my Instagram feed however, you would think I am an extremely cultured and calm relaxing person. I follow many yogi’s, body positivity advocates, and nature lovers. I also follow National Geographic, NASA, Bookriot and DailyOverview which are amazingly insightful and beautiful. I love being able to view the gorgeous pictures and read about people all over the earth trying to live better lives. Everything is beautiful on Instagram. Isn’t that the point? I don’t really get Twitter. I just try and fill my feed with funny people there.

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4. I’m also trying to recognize what is good. I am trying to everyday be more grateful for the life I do have. It starts with the little things. Instagram is a great place for this. I take a picture of something and write why I am grateful. It makes me feel good to look back on my feed when I am having a bad day. To remember what had me so tickled the day before.
5. I am embracing this mindful thing everyone keeps talking about. When I am with my husband my mind is fully with him. When I am walking down the Philadelphia streets I am embracing and now fully becoming part of the crazy. I am enjoying my walks, looking at all the people and dancing at stop lights…yeah I am doing that. When I am doing yoga, I am listening to my body more deeply every time. I am also making a show of most things. I have dinner by candlelight. I sometimes even have breakfast by candlelight because it makes me feel special. Actually, I really like candles so these days I am using them a lot. I am in a dark room right now, typing by candle light and laptop screen! I am trying to make life as pretty as I can. It might sound superficial but it makes the minutes better. Why not?
6. I’ve added meditation to my prayers, sometimes guided sometimes not. It’s helped me slow down and really feel blessed, even when I am in pain. Something I am learning with yoga, meditation, and prayer is that my body, my mind, and my breath are all interconnected. If I slow and deepen my breath then my body loosens and my mind is more clear.

Is there something in your life that you have changed in order to take the stress off yourself? These are just a few of the things I am doing. Is there something you do that makes you feel better about yourself and the world? Please share. I need all the help I can get. I am guessing we all do.

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First Step – Research

My old treatment plan – bed and pain pills.

I’ve always been a proponent of learning. Since I was wee, I have loved reading and considered it power. My earliest dreams were to get out of my small town and experience more of the world, and my immediate answer was to educate myself so I could have the money to do so. Education and reading has always been my most valued tool. Which is why my inaction in helping myself, health wise, should have been puzzling.

So often doctors counsel us to not WEBMD ourselves. Don’t Dr. Google they say. However, what is a patient to do when doctors don’t listen, or maybe they do but don’t have the answers? I’m not saying Dr. Google is the most reliable source of information, but there are sights that service specific ailments, and are manned by reputable sources and there is the library.

A doctor will see us fifteen minutes every couple weeks IF we are lucky enough to have insurance. Even if they know what’s wrong with us, is that really enough time to tell us all of our options for treatment or even how to enact that treatment. I have spent more time with personal trainers, farmer’s market proprietors, and house cleaning people, and spent less money on all of those services. Is it sad that I found out more and had a longer conversation about where my peaches were grown from the farmer’s market proprietor than what it means to be diagnosed with PCOS from the proprietor of my healthcare? I’m not saying that my doctors are bad in any way. I have loved my general practitioners back in Boise and here in Philadelphia. They have my respect and I feel I have lucked out. Still, I feel like there is no such thing as comprehensive medical care. I am saying that the system is wrong and the only way to combat that is to educate myself.

Sadly it took me too much time to realize that. I have just taken what doctors have told me and done what they have asked and that is all. Total trust and reliance in the medical profession has been my go to for far too long. I have been given many diagnoses in my quest for pain relief: PCOS, endometriosis, adenomyosis, fibroids, and dysmenorrhea. (The last one I believe is just a bullshit excuse not to do anything about a woman’s pain.) I was told the doctors recommended course of treatment and I followed it, but only their course of treatment for about ten years. I listened patiently and did what I was told. There are many social cues that tell us to follow what the doctor says. I guess that is appropriate because of all their education they deserve respect. However, there should have been a point in each of those diagnoses’ which as a patient I took responsibility to be more educated and this year I have. Let me say, it has made me feel better.

In my defense, it has been hard before now. I am extremely lucky in that my husband is supporting me right now. My number one responsibility is to get rid of this pain. While it is still not easy to read books, scout message boards and research web sites while either on pain pills or in massive pain, it is better than while working forty or more hours a week. However, I am working toward a better life none the less. I have been researching so much my physical therapist may just learn a few things from me.

My plan is to become so informed on all my diagnoses’ that there isn’t any course of treatment I don’t know about whether western medicine, eastern medicine or natural remedy. This has been the best thing I have done to make me feel as if I have power. My library card, my laptop and I are a powerful trio that has provided me with many answers.

My newest diagnosis is that I have a too tight pelvic floor. This is a fairly new field- pelvic physical therapy. I was told by a gynecologist here in Philadelphia that it has only been available in maybe the past five years. So when I feel pissed off that no one realized this was my problem until now, I must understand the science wasn’t there. I have read a couple of books, countless web sites, and watched many hip opening, hip stretching videos. I have met with my physical therapist twice who has examined me twice. My therapist gave me one exercise to do every two hours. So far this is what she asked me to work on. I have done that but I am also doing about twelve more stretches as part of my everyday yoga routine. I am keeping track of my diet and how it makes me feel. I am reading up on nutrition and supplements for IBS which is related to the pain. I am also trying to work on my related fibromyalgia and am looking into getting a hysterectomy to take care of my “dysmenorrhea” AKA painful periods because I believe they caused this problem in the first place. I am building my own comprehensive care.

My new treatment plan- laptop, Nook, yoga mat and notes. 

This week is the first week in years I have gone an entire week without one single Aleve or any other pain pill. It is the first week this year I haven’t needed something heavier than that. I have hope. If all my research has done is give me the fallacy of control, then right now that is enough. More than that, it has definitively made it so that I can make more informed decisions when the doctors give me a choice. While I have to understand it is because of my new cutting edge pain expert gynecologist and this physical therapy, I also feel a good part of the solution has been my determination and my library card. I’m in charge now.

Crash Toone

This was one of my very high pain days! 

About three weeks ago, I had an appointment with a genetic counselor. I didn’t want to go, but I saw it as a stepping stone to getting my hysterectomy. With my fibroids and supposed Endometriosis, I thought this might remove my pain. My doctor said that she wouldn’t take out my ovaries unless I was at great risk of cancer. I can’t tell you how much that ticked me off. I was under the impression my ovaries were causing me pain. So what? I am supposed to go to this appointment to find out that I am at great risk for cancer? Really?

Well, it didn’t turn out that way. I refused to take the blood test. I don’t want to know if I am at great risk of ovarian or breast cancer. I really don’t. I also don’t want my DNA on file with some lab for them to test. The counselor told me I shouldn’t do it if I felt uncomfortable. So I didn’t.

So I went back to the gynecologist, who is also a pain specialist, who told me that there was no reason to get my ovaries taken out because my ovaries are not causing the problem. She is now telling me that I may not have endometriosis, but too tight pelvic muscles, IBS, and too much stress. Since I have heard for years that this pain is part of my reproductive organs, and this doctor’s office agreed a couple weeks before, I had a hard time believing this new information. It took her the better part of an hour and an intense examination to, sort of, prove it to me. Rather, I should say to get me to shut up and go away dismayed and disillusioned.

I walked to meet a friend who was there for me because we both knew this appointment wouldn’t have definitive answers. She and I talked and she amazingly enough comforted me as much as you can a person who is overwhelmed with emotions, and hasn’t really processed something. On the way home after leaving her I fell in a rather dramatic fashion on thirteenth in the middle of two restaurants outdoor seating. I did a slight somersault and knocked over some chairs. It earned me the nickname Crash, which I have to say I am taking a liking to. Husband says it’s shocking someone hasn’t said that before. Not only because I am unbelievably clumsy at times, but because I like to attack problems and even social situations with all the subtlety of a hammer. I think it makes me sound like a superhero Crash Toone.

Part of the damage from my fight with the pavement

That was about two weeks ago. Since then I have been processing all this information and I have started physical therapy for pelvic pain. I have also had two of the worst weeks of this pain I have ever experienced. I don’t know if that means it is working or not. I have been on my pain pills most of the time but when I wasn’t I was crying from a deep engulfing depression. It’s been overwhelming. It has been isolating so I haven’t just stopped blogging until now but also haven’t talked to a lot of family and friends. I just had to work this out of my system.

See this new diagnosis I am holding as tentative. It requires me to go to three different doctors several times and change my diet, my exercise program, and my schedule. It is also very expensive. I could go through all of it and still be in pain.

My homework from my first physical therapist appointment is that I have to do ten upward dogs every two hours, and for three days write down my food intake and my waste outtake. That’s uncomfortable. I still have to make some other appointments. I know I should have more done but I promise you that I have been going through the worst pain in my life so far, and hopefully forever.

Last night I finally put on my big girl panties and decided to do attack this with more vigor. I am not going to be grudgingly going to my doctor’s appointments. I am going to be CRASH TOONE, attacking the pain. I am going to plan and write down everything I eat, cut out everything I need to, and do all my physical therapy. I am researching everything I can about all of these diagnoses, and going above and beyond. If this doesn’t fix me I might just have to camp out at my Doctors office until I get an answer. Crash Toone is done playing around.

Crash Toone: Because superheroes should always have a red lip. 

Questions about the Yoga Community

 

My first prototype outfit: jeans. It worked until my workouts got more difficult.

I just finished my fourth day of “Thirty days of Yoga with Adriene” and I am finding that I love it. Husband and I are amazed at what are bodies are able to accomplish after only four days of practice. We still have problems though because we didn’t understand two of the shoulder stretches and we continue to have wardrobe malfunctions. It is okay because we are at home so there is no embarrassment but it is quite annoying.

First off, my husband’s pants kept falling down. It is so cute to me his pale cheeks glowing in the darkness of my living room, if not distracting. It annoyed him to no end. He just let it stay down but our apartment is pretty cold. After the work out I was teasing him because he had a striped pattern on his buttocks from the yoga mat. I however didn’t apparently have the concentration to keep from pulling up my pants which would fall down every time I did downward dog. It wouldn’t uncover my butt, it was my tummy. My pants would go down leaving my large white belly swinging in the breeze. Not only that, but my boobs were almost suffocating me because the bra I was wearing wasn’t very good. So I kept having to maneuver them this way and that in between poses. Downward dog, which we kept coming back to, wasn’t as enjoyable as usual. I was trying out an outfit that I thought might work on the outside.

See I usually do my yoga in pajamas. I can’t do yoga on the pier in my pajamas. Even if I could it wouldn’t be that comfortable since they do yoga on the pier in the summer and all my pajamas are fairly warm. (Husband is pretty insistent on keeping the apartment artic cold.) Going to do yoga at the pier is one of the things I have promised myself as a reward for trying more difficult poses and longer yoga work outs. I would love to meet other people who love yoga as much as I do because my family and friends are sick of me talking about it. I would love to be around other people who can tell me if I am doing things right, and HELLO it is doing yoga on the pier. I mean I love the water, and I love yoga. It seems like the nexus of joy.

I don’t think I’ll get to do it this year because I have nothing to wear, and finding something in my price range, in my size seems near impossible.

Khaki capris? Now I do it in my bra and hubbies underwear but not going to show you that…lol

I have been able to really embrace yoga as an exercise, but nothing more than that.  I’ve been adding yoga feeds to my Facebook and Instagram. Yoga magazines and Yogis are almost consistently positive and usually educate me on being a better human. I enjoy that because I am always striving to be calmer, and more helpful to other humans. Also it is extremely dark on social media, and a dark time for all this year. I need inspiration just to keep from sitting around depressed. What I didn’t count on were the countless articles and ads that show me clothing I can’t have.

What a Miracle is my Body

This is me after a seven block walk. I sweat profusely.

So much of my life is built around distracting from my endometriosis pain right now. I watch TV or listen to music while reading. If I engage my mind enough then I can ignore the pain. It is only partially successful.

I realized, as I walked to the library, that distraction is how I’ve always gotten through exercise. I don’t like to sweat. It is uncomfortable, although I am working on that distaste. Exercise has always caused pain in my ankles and I’ve never been good at it. Today, I walked in the heat as fast as I could manage to the beat of my Lady Gaga Pandora channel. I used the beat of Pitbull’s Shake Senora to move faster and faster. By the time I made it to the library I was dripping with sweat and my pants were sticking to me. If there were such a thing as tiny men, they could have slid down my cleavage like a slip and slide.

This is in total contrast to my yoga experience. Every move in yoga has to be thoughtfully carried out. For one, my balance, as it stands, is horrible. Some of the poses require me to be on one foot or one knee. I have trouble with standing on two feet or balancing on both knees. I am learning and practicing over and over, but seriously have to concentrate. I have to feel every part of my body and muscles I didn’t know existed. Normally when exercising, I would try to ignore pain in my muscles or work through it, using the adage “no pain, no gain” or more likely I’d give up. With Yoga, if there is pain—I am doing something wrong. Not only do I have to concentrate on my muscles, hand and foot placement, and balance, but then there is the breathing. Yoga just isn’t the same without the breathing. The deep breathing brings in a sense of calm that I have never experienced with other exercise.

It amazes me the contrast. I love the difference. I believe that is why I love yoga. I love how I can totally immerse myself in the activity. I breathe in and out slowly and deeply. I free my mind of anything that doesn’t have to do with the pose at hand. When it is really good and I have focused enough towards the end of the practice I am more aware of what my body is doing than I have ever been.  By focusing intensely on what I am doing and making sure it feels good.  There is gain with no pain. Don’t get me wrong I feel strain on my muscles but I don’t feel pain.

I have always ignored my body because I have been told no pain no gain.  I wasn’t very good at sports because of my bad ankles, and I was never the type of body I wanted. I got told repeatedly by society, my family, and even “friends” I was the wrong body type. When I repeatedly fail at something, I tend to forget about trying it again. I have hated my body because of what it could not do. It could not be good at aerobics, softball, or volleyball. Even worse, It could not be skinny. Don’t get me wrong, it was thin at one time, just not the thin that was popular in my youth. It was curvy thin. I hated it. I wanted to be the woman who could wear pleated pants and poufy shirts a’ la Different World. I wanted to be Lisa Bonet.

I surely didn’t want to be me, with my curves and very strong muscled legs. I wanted to be like a reed in the wind. Then I became known for my curves and then abused because of them, and then I wanted to be a bulldozer, not a human.  So more and more I retreated into this body, and wore it like a coat, a covering for my soul but not something that affected my soul.  IF I could distance myself from my body then I would not be responsible for it or how it made other people think about me. I thought I’d focus on what I was good at, reading.

Recently, I have distanced myself so far from my body because it seemed mean to me: the pain my body brings me, the interruption to my day, and pushback of my goals. My body has been a bitch for quite a long time. (While some of that has been caused by me ignoring her, most of it hasn’t. Endometriosis can’t be exercised away. It can only be burned away or excised by a doctor). Trust me it wasn’t hard to get mad at my body.

Yoga has helped me to forgive her. Yoga has helped me see that this body people made fun of, that wasn’t good at sports, had weak ankles and poor balance – even she could be loved. At first yoga was another distraction from the pain but as I got into it, and as I started awakening the understanding of my bodies minutiae it started easing the pain. I started to realize that just like any love I had to actively participate in the caring for the object of my affection in order for it to thrive. Those balance issues are still there, but it works my ankles and they are getting stronger. I am so aware of my body, I can tell when I am going to start sweating. I feel the heat from within and I welcome it. For the first time in my life I welcome the sweat. What’s more is that the first time I did it, I was really bad at it, but the more I practiced –miraculously- I got better. For the first time in my life I got better at exercise. Each pose takes time to master, but when success comes I am overwhelmed with gratitude for my body.

It is only recently through yoga and my families help have I been able to figure out a way to celebrate what my body is capable of. I am super stretchy, more than the average bear. My body likes yoga, it craves it. I am a good swimmer. I am a good dancer, with a natural rhythm. My legs are super strong. I ride bicycles with ease. I am double jointed in my fingers, I do a mean downward dog, and I am working my way up to hour long yoga sessions. I am resilient. I fail at these poses but keep trying.  I am able to heal pretty easily if I take care of my body. I am finally able to see what a miracle is my body.

Oh, and I can give good cuddles. Look at him smile. That’s some good cuddling.

 

 

You Can Take the Girl out of Oklahoma…

This was how Oklahoma welcomed me. 

 

About a month ago I went to visit my family in my native state of Oklahoma. I was inspired by my family to move more and to enjoy the simpler things that I sometimes ignore. My family is extraordinary and every time I am around them it is as if I have been given new life. Sometimes it reaffirms who I am. Being away from my home state for so long sometimes allows me to forget what I have inherited and how deep those Okie roots run: the laid back sense of humor, master story telling, and the vein of gumption that runs through all of us.

It’s that tenacity and live wire like energy that is contagious. Inspiration to move and accomplish the physical is everywhere.

Going to the grocery store with Mom is like an aerobics work out. I was still getting out of the car and she had a cart inside already. 

In the mornings Mom and I would do our perspective exercises. She does a video by Gilad, a very handsome, bulging, swarthy man. She’s done various videos of his for years. I don’t enjoy the aerobic videos so I went over to the corner and played my Pandora music channel and did yoga. This concurrent clashing music didn’t even bother us. At one point we discussed how this could be a metaphor for our relationship.  I said it is funny how we clearly like different things but still hang out because we love each other so much.

We are so proud of my beautiful, smart, strong sis.

I was encouraged to walk by my sister Katie because she walks everywhere. We trekked all over the OSU campus before I had to take my shoes off and sit until someone brought the car to me. My feet were done but she was still going. I feel after 40 you shouldn’t have to suck it up.

Yep, we even fed a horse! These people live super special lives.

My brother and his wife have a handsome five year old son named Caleb and he inspired everyone to get physical. Katie and I even risked and failed at cartwheels. That family spends most evenings outside in the sun after dinner riding bikes or watching Caleb ride his big wheels up and down the driveway. I got to ride bikes, slide down slides, fight imaginary wolves and run through the park. Caleb and I even had a session of yoga together. That was so fun. There are these children’s yoga videos on YouTube, and he loves them. A fifteen minute video story of going to an amusement park with a Hispanic penguin had me sweating!

First time on a bike in years, can you tell?

 

While some of these attempts didn’t work out so well (one slide left me with a swollen and bruised thumb, another with two skinned knees, the cartwheel left me with a slightly sprained ankle, and I also got kicked in the head more than once while rough housing,) the fun that I had was more than worth it. I will never forget this trip because I learned I miss being playful. It is absolutely the best exercise. I miss that idea that my body is here so I might as well see what it can do. Seeing what my body is capable of is an activity I have neglected and it is actually fun. My new fitness goals are: being able to perform a cartwheel, AND get enough arm strength to walk only on my hands while someone holds my feet by the time I go back to Oklahoma. We tried it this time. While I could hold my brothers legs while he walked the living room, I couldn’t quite walk on my hands. I will though mark my words. I am doing planks every day.  If I can walk on my hands then maybe there is even a handstand in my future! Now that is exciting! Won’t my nephew be so proud of Aunt Danielle?

I felt like this was the appropriate image for a mic drop…

Back Baby Steppin’

This is me socializing in the park. Even my lunch dates require exercise now!

There so many exciting things are happening in my life right now. I am volunteering at the library, getting to know new people, writing more and exercising more. I have not had an episode of pain in two weeks. I am delighted. My husband is relaxed and I am making very small progress on all areas of my life. I am cooking, walking, and stretching a lot more. I am in the zone.

Something that is helping me besides being pain free for two weeks is this new deal I have with myself. If I do not write at least an hour a day, then I have to forgo my modem and give it to my husband to take with him to work. Without the router I have no internet and no TV because we have no cable. So I have nothing to research with while writing or entertain me while I clean. This is an even bigger motivator to jump start myself than the writing I am already doing. Once I get writing I get more excited about the writing. So this is just a jump start to get the fingers moving! It has worked. This week I have written every day.

I have also met my pedometer goal every day and done yoga three times. I even tried to do a yoga video called Power Yoga with Rodney Yee. Rodney Yee is a yoga instructor born in my native state of Oklahoma. (I just found that out!) He is a very handsome man who apparently only owns pants. These pants are made of spandex and are usually neon colors. I like his calm voice and dulcet tones, but I think I want to branch out. I think that I need something called Half Power because I had a lot of trouble doing those yoga moves so quickly. Downward dog –Upward dog — Downward dog –Upward dog —  Downward dog –Upward dog — Downward dog –Upward dog — Downward dog –Upward dog…sweaty sweaty sweaty sweaty but I was done when he got to Half-moon pose and fell over because my knee didn’t like it very much.  So I stopped but was proud of myself for attempting and making it about half way through. It’s been a long time since I even put in an exercise DVD. Actually I think last time I put a video in it was a VHS tape.

Lynne my library lunch date!

I am also cooking more so my husband and I are eating fresh vegetables and fruits. I got back into making smoothies and eggs with veggies for breakfast. Leftovers for lunch and for dinner I am cooking fresh salads, veggie filled pastas and I make delicious veggie tacos.  I am not saying I haven’t had weird pizza roll dinners once or twice but I have been making great strides to getting my healthy habits back.

It feels like I am just bragging in this post but I feel as if I must after what I have been through lately. I am now looking forward to progressing but more importantly, the most encouraging development is coming back to the program feels inevitable. If I have to put my exercise plan on hold for a month because of pain and there be no doubt I will get back to it when I feel better, then that means I am officially a person who works out. It am not a poser. I am the real deal.

 

I have some good news.

These are my non-skinny jeans.

1. Things are going slow but they are going in the right direction. I bought a size down in pants about six months ago and they were tight but now I am able to wear them loose. Brad and I accidently left our scale in Boise so I haven’t been able to weigh myself, but this tells me I am losing inches. Also, I went down two inches in my bra size which reaffirms that. I practically skipped out of Lane Bryant after finding that out!
2. I am walking up to two miles without having to do nothing the next day.
3. I bought boots!!! I finally got my calves small enough to buy a two pair of knee high boots! This has been a lifelong goal. I know it sounds shallow to have a goal for a pair of boots, but I have always had large calves. Even when I was in the single digit sizes my calves were abnormally huge. I am built like a tree and I have shied away from shorts, boots, or ankle bracelets. Moving to Philly was like the last straw. I have been living in Boise, Idaho and, while some people wear boots there, sneakers, Tevas, and Birkenstocks are common place. It is a land of exclusiveness and mountain people. Here I have only run into one person on the street wearing tennis shoes. It only intensified my need for boots. I felt like the only one who didn’t have them. So I finally had the guts to measure my calves and they finally allowed me to order boots from Torrid! Thank you Torrid!
4. With that ballsy move, I also order a pair of “skinny” jeans. I confessed to my long time best friend Brandi, who is also plus size, how nervous I was to try them on. I didn’t want to look like humpty dumpty. She didn’t know if they would look good. She too had never bought any because she figured they would look bad on her. So we both thought skinny jeans were only for skinny people. If you look me in my regular boot cut and my new skinny jeans I think that I look just as good in them. I would go even further to say that I look slimmer in the skinny jeans.
5. I am getting back into my yoga practice which is good for my muscles. I have been having headaches and when I wake up my right arm has been going numb when I wake up. These things I am hoping to fix these problems with the yoga practice. I am just proud to keep it up, even though I am not feeling so well.

Me, in my skinny jeans.

Because I met some of these goals I have to set new ones now.

1. Get down to the next size at Lane Bryant and Torrid.
2. Cook at least all our weeknight meals. Brad and I have been eating out too much due to the excitement of being in a new city with new tastes.
3. Double my yoga practice, right now I am only doing it about twice a week. Slow and steady is the way I am choosing to go.
4. Get up to three miles of walking.
5. Eat more consistently during the day, with protein and carbohydrates. I have had a couple of close calls with low blood sugar, which means I need to be testing more.

Reaching a few of my short term goals has made me feel more confident. When I think about losing inches in my bra size I get giddy with pride. Things don’t work that way normally for me. This is the first time I have ever lost a size. I hope this sense of accomplishment will push me forward into more accomplishments and more weight loss.

What to do about Sneaky Negativity

I turned this…

I am going through a renaissance of sorts, a life change, and it is exciting. The passion of my life is writing. I have written poems and stories ever since I could. I am so happy that I get this opportunity to write with abandon but have had so many stumbling blocks it has been a little disheartening.  Before this I could only write before or after work, between any personal engagements and while other people have done written a successful novel on the side I have not. Now I have a chance to go full on into my writing. I have the freedom to write most of the day, it is the exhilarating idea I have been dreaming about for years. When I first start things there is so much doubt, and sometimes it can come from external sources which doesn’t help. Quitting smoking, losing weight, and changing careers are all difficult endeavors and I have or am embarking on all of them.

I have uncertainty that I can accomplish my goals. I am sure I am not the only one. I ask myself is this a case that I am just scared or am I really not cut out for “working from home.” I guess this comes down to the fact that I really don’t know exactly what I want to do with my life and at almost forty it seems like a desperate and horrible position to be in. The uncertainty is damaging, but what is worse is the pressure. I want to write and be healthy now that I have the time to do anything I want. What if I fail? All this time I have been humbugging the fact that I didn’t have the opportunity to write full time. What if now that I have the opportunity and the time to do what I have dreamed of, I don’t succeed, which would be shameful, right?

Could fear hold me back? Certainly.

It doesn’t help that many of my friends and family don’t believe this move is right for me. People that know my heart and soul don’t think leaving a full time job is for me. When I think about change as a concept I believe it makes everyone uncomfortable. The concept of security is definitely safer. As a woman the idea of being financially reliant on my husband of eleven years even makes me uncomfortable and my husband is amazing, reliable, and the most trustworthy person I know. Everything in my being and how I was raised tells me I am supposed to be self reliant. Not only that, but I have never been good at the domestic stuff either. I sucked at quitting smoking, until I quit smoking. The thing is, when you try to quit thirty times, your family and friends both know you are going to fail on the thirty first and are kind of sick of you talking about it. They don’t understand that this new resolve is going to be the ticket. I remember once I told someone I loved I was going to quit smoking and they rolled their eyes. I don’t blame them. I mean it is hard to believe after the umpteenth time.

My total lack of domestic abilities my entire life is why some of my best friends and close family don’t think this is going to work, but seriously what is a little laundry when I have the chance to write the rest of the day. I know I will never be Martha Stewart. Although I do love making my house look beautiful, and what my friends and family don’t know is I daydreamed about having time to cook delicious elegant meals.

Sometimes I think I need a fresh perspective, with friends who don’t know that I have been domestically incompetent, less than graceful, and physically fitness challenged. (The last one you could probably tell by looking at me, but that doesn’t matter.) New friendships are usually pretty hopeful and there is a bonus if self improvement is the focus of the friendship.

My other friends and family, the ones who know me really well, and know I am not very good at the domestic duties; I will be gently reminding them that I can change and grow. Sometimes they don’t realize they are being discouraging, and sometimes I don’t know they are doing it. It could be a joke or a suggestion for a job I don’t want. When I realize the words have affected me later, it’s usually when my own doubts are plaguing my mind. So I have to remind myself and my loved ones: I may have been clumsy in the past but I get better sleep now and haven’t fallen in years. I may have smoked in the past but I haven’t had a cigarette in a year. I am fat now but I will lose the weight. I stink at laundry but some day I may come to love taking care of my home, and I have the tenacity. I have not always accomplished things quickly, but I roll the large stones uphill. I can do it; it will just take time and energy.

…into this. I can do plenty!!!!

How do you pace yourself?

This is what I look like relaxed.

Do you schedule rest time? Also, do you feel like there isn’t enough time in the day to do what you need to get done? Do you feel like you don’t do enough to accomplish your goals? I am struggling with goal setting, and when to work on those goals and how to overcome the limitations of my body. If I can’t overcome those limitations, how do I feel good about taking the appropriate breaks?

Last night my husband and I were talking about how I didn’t do anything that day which put me in a very foul mood. It wasn’t anything I could point to and say was wrong.  As Brad put it “You’re grouchy.” I didn’t know why except that I didn’t do anything.  I took the day off because my leg was hurting from my walking the day before.  Brad gave me this really funny look and said “Oh, okay, that’s because you’re all go, go, go all the time.”

He was teasing me but at the same time he was being honest. He said you need to give yourself permission to just rest. I replied accusingly, “I did! I sat there all day and did nothing but Netflix!”  It isn’t my fault that guilt just keeps creeping back in. I just sat there all day ignoring other responsibilities that I needed to take care of. I sat there in bed thinking I should have been writing or cleaning the kitchen. It doesn’t matter that I wouldn’t have been good at any of those things because I was in a lot of pain. I felt I should have been doing something other than watching Medium.

I have friends who are athletes and I’ve read a lot of magazines where athletes state that they schedule rest time. I guess I haven’t figured out how to do that guilt free. Is this another “talk to myself” moment?  Do I need therapy to give myself a day of rest by myself? I have no problem resting when my husband is there as if I have permission to slack off when he is. I don’t know why.

I really hate it when people say I don’t know why I feel this way, I just do. It is as if my feelings control me. They shouldn’t and I am struggling with how to make my rational mind take over in all my efforts.

Does anyone have any suggestions on how to schedule rest time? Do you know any way to unwind guilt free?

Have you heard of the phenomenon where people set a goal so high that they burn out because they are doing too much?  It is a January trend where chubby people everywhere get into the gym and push themselves.  As if all the physical fitness can be done in the first month of the year, we all lace up our sneakers and sweat more in that first week than we have the entire year before and then wonder why we hate exercise.  My husband feels I do that with everything.

Usually I have unpacked everything, hung pictures, and organized the entire home by the third day in my new house. I push myself to get things done as soon as possible when I really want them done. Goal setting is good but if I burn myself out, that’s not good for anyone. I have to think of my body, my mind, and my marriage. I am open to any suggestions. I could truly use any possible help you could give me.