The next day...

Last night, my son and I went to the gym. I had my first initial appointment with their in-house personal trainer, to talk about what I want to gain from the gym and to teach me how to use much of the equipment.

We talked about working out, exercise, health, nutrition, and goals. Of course, in order to be completely honest and let him know what he was truly dealing with, I told him about my demons and what I fight with. It's amazing how easy it was to tell him that, and how much difference that can make on my training. Like they say, you cannot accept help until you are willing to admit you have a problem.

So, I talked to the trainer, I explained what I face with working out and eating... he was awesome. He was able to work with me and gave me ideas and hints and tips.

It is truly easier to get the best feedback and guidance when you are honest with the situation.

He also understands my desire to keep my son moving, and not to see him go down the same path I did.

I think this was a good decision... and hope it make it work!

Truth - depression sucks!

In several of my past posts, you might have noticed that I haven't really been myself. Well, I haven't. I have been diagnosed, and have suffered, with clinical depression for over 10 years. Then throw panic/anxiety attacks on top of that, and you have me... one rather slightly disturbed, messed up lady. The holidays always seem to really push the envelope for me. I don't really enjoy them like I used to. I feel bad because my son loves them. I just can't seem to get into them.

Anyway, I went to my doctor yesterday and we had a nice discussion. It is time to change up my meds. The ones I have been on have seemed to work for quite a while, but things are changing and the meds just aren't doing it for me at this point.

I start my new meds tomorrow, once I get them filled. I am hoping these help because I hate feeling so dark. I don't want to get out of bed, I don't want to socialize, I just want to be a hermit and stay in my pajamas. I don't have the energy and I don't like the way I feel, the way I look, the way I am, who I am... and the list could go on for pages, if I let it.

I guess, what I want to say is that if there seems like something is not quite right, don't be afraid to look into it. It took me several years to get an accurate diagnosis and it helped me move forward and be who I am. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Unless you are divine, it probably won't get better without therapy and meds. It doesn't hurt to check.

Skinny Jeans question...

I know this is a strange questions, but I figured I would put it out there...

What do you think of skinny jeans?

Do you own any?

Have you tried them on?

How do they fit?

Do you have a favorite brand?

HELP!!!!!!! I am sooooo confused!

Just curious. Wondering if they can help me see myself in a different image?

Thanks

RemembeRED: Cleaning House

It was December 2001 and that was when I started to "clean house".

J was in jail, sitting on warrants out for his arrest, for unpaid support.

This was the third time. I couldn't afford to keep bailing him out, especially when we was running from the law (all of which I didn't know until AFTER the wedding!).

I got pissed. I was upset. I was angry. I cried. I screamed. I hated him. I was mad at what he did to me. I was mad for what he did to our family. I was hurt. I started packing boxes, filling then with everything that belonged to him. I piled everything in the back of his van. In the boxes, just to be mean (kinda), I threw in a couple of our wedding invitations, just for the "turning the knife" factor.

I then spoke with the attorney on New Year's Eve, signed on the lines, and they served him the papers while he sat in jail. I had my doubts, I had my fears, I didn't trust him, but his van was packed, his stuff was out of my house, and the keys were in the vehicle, waiting for him to drive away.

Something to call my own

I am a mom and I work hard. I don't take time for myself and don't do anything for me. Writing is my outlet, writing is my escape, my expression. I created my blog to keep me sane. I write for me and write about me. It is something for me. This is my time, to empty my mind, and express myself.

It's all about me!

What ‘cha doin’?

Ok, so that is a routine question in my house… and it is not primarily from Phineas and Ferb… it is from my son – a teenager with obsessive tendencies. He has to be in the middle of things and can hear a conversation from across the room, but can’t seem to hear me from across the kitchen table when I ask him to use his fork, not his fingers, or to use his napkin, not his pants.

I spend all day at work, trying to get things down on the computer and answering the phone. I get enough interruptions and distractions. The last thing I want to do is come up, with good intentions of going on the computer and accomplishing something other than work, school, or church. I used to have a social life, I used to facebook, I used to tweet, I used to blog, but lately, distractions keep me sidetracked. I love my child, but it really bugs me when I am trying to do something and he is continually coming in and asking “What ‘cha doin’?” Or, even worse, stands over my shoulder to see what I am doing. I know that if I did that to him, he would flip a gasket! And when it isn’t him, it’s Grandma. Yes, she does the same thing. She has no clue on computers or the internet, but standing over my shoulder is her part-time job apparently.

Sometimes, I even wonder if the cats have the same thoughts? Especially as they stand on top of me and stare down at me, with that “look” on their face.  Can you imagine your cat staring down at you and suddenly saying “What ‘cha doin’?” Yep, I can!!!! (If you knew my cats, you would think so too.)

Why can’t a girl get some time alone? Oh yea, trust me, even the bathroom is not a sacred place… no one needs it until I am in there, nor does anyone want to talk to me until that same time. Maybe that is why the cats hang in the bathroom with me when I’m getting dressed or taking a bath? For the seclusion? Who knows… maybe.

you told me to write a list

But you never gave me structure. I can do a list... and put it all down. I will write it down... but you have known me long enough to see my path.

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