"Friends" are a tough subject for me. (Notice, I'm not talking about the TV show.) Right now, within 100 mile radius of my house, I have none.
The problem is I've chosen to bring people into my life who I end up dumping or who are not good for me. These are such big faults of mine. I definitely blame myself, for both driving away good people, and also making destructive choices.
The thing is, now I'm deathly afraid of having friends (other than aforementioned food, still working on that one). I am so afraid of choosing badly yet again, or unfairly ditching good people because I don't want them to know me or I find a fault with them.
Sadly, in order to get away from the one major destructive friendship in my life, I avoided anyone associated with that person, and dissed a lot of great people. Recently, while visiting Michigan, I ran into a few people I dissed, and realized what a mistake that was. I was happily surprised that these guys were so kind to me after what I'd done to them. They are truly amazing.
My awesome mother-in-law is such a good influence in my life and has often reminded me that for the most part, people are good. I love that she is able to see that, and I really value that wisdom that she had imparted to me. It has given me hope that someday, I will find people who are genuine. Maybe I will come to realize that I can have friends in my life who accept me the way I am and I can reciprocate without running away at the first sign of a flaw.
I really miss having friends.
Disclaimer:
Shelly, I miss you a lot, and I know if we lived by each other, we'd be together all the time.
Judy, I really miss having you as my friend. You are such a great and positive person, and I adore what a fabulous woman I know you are, even though we haven't see each other in years.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Weight? Wait.
You're about to read the most candid blog I will probably ever write. For those who've never had a weight problem, this whole blog may be hard to understand. I've been thinking about writing this blog for a while and finally decided to just put it all out there.
I am overweight. Not just a little. I'm at the highest weight I've ever been in my life, and this fact is consuming my life 110%. Every choice I make and thing I do revolves around how much I weigh. Examples:
1. I don't wear shorts. I'd rather be unbearably hot.
2. I don't post my current pictures on this blog.
3. I look at and immediately hate all thin women, assuming they'd just skated their way through their fabulously charmed skinny lives. (I hate that I do this...it's SO wrong of me, but if I'm being honest, it's the truth).
4. I plan every move I make around "When and what am I going to eat next?"
5. I assume everyone who sees me is only looking at how fat I am, what I'm eating and then placing heaps of judgment on me. (Converse to point #3 above).
6. I closet eat. Fast food is my favorite.
7. I commit to myself everyday, that "today is going to be the day I put the fork down", and then sabotage myself 100%.
You may say, so why don't you just lose weight? Well, let me tell you, I'd love to. But I've come to realize that weight is not about being fat, and finding a way to make it fall off your body. Ask any dieter, we are experts, more than anyone, how to lose weight. We've lost it, gained it, lost it, gained it.
For me being overweight is about 2 things:
1. Hating myself. Those who know me may say, "Wait a minute! I know you Shannon, you don't seem to hate yourself!" But you know what? I do. Let me explain: I like things about myself. I think I am funny and I'm pretty smart. It is possible to hate yourself and still like some parts of yourself. But I've come to realize that I am compelled to punish myself for being who I am, which is someone who grew up always wanting more, and being made fun of for not having the "things" society places value on, like money and looks. I realized earlier this week that the emotion associated with my first childhood memory of myself is shame. I was 2 years old and I was in the front yard of our house. We were moving out of it, because we couldn't afford it. Somehow as a 2-year-old, I knew this was something to be ashamed of.
I am SHOCKED to realize that even at 2 years old, I was ashamed of something like that. Our family got along fine and we had food on the table and I was never abused, so it's not like I lived some tragic childhood, but I realize that in my childhood, seeds were being planted....seeds of inadequacy, shame, and self-dislike. At a very young age I was comparing myself to other kids. I didn't have the expensive clothes and good looks that other kids had. Sure, I was a nice person, but really didn't see a lot of value in that. From a young age, and even still now, I am in a constant cycle of self-criticism.
It's seems to be a paradox that people who don't like themselves get fat; if someone wanted to like themselves, it would be logical to transform into something likable. Ah, but that's where the food comes in. FOOD.
2. Food
Food=love
Food=good feelings
Food=comfort
Food=non-judgmental friend
I was a skinny kid until puberty, when I started those awkward years...bad hair, bad clothes, still not cool enough, ugly (because 5ft 10in tall at a size 9 is SO FAT). And all of those girls who didn't go through that ugliness are vicious. They made sure to point this out to those of us who had to struggle through, that they were better than us. You could not make friends with these people, but you could escape their meanness....my first coping mechanism was staying home from school, avoidance, and crucifying myself in my mind. Pretty soon food became a great distraction.
I feel pathetic in admitting this: I am still struggling with my ugly years. I am still in 7th grade being told by these girls how ugly or weird I am and how I don't measure up. Only their voices have transformed into my own voice, because I was, and am still, willing to believe, every word they said.
So I've gone through life, facing and defeating some things, failing and succeeding at some things, just like everybody else. But the one thing I'm still not able to touch is self-hatred. This has manifested in so many ways:
I've made food my absolute best friend (for all reasons mentioned above and so many more), and driven all other friends out of my life so me and my food can be alone.
While I'd rather hide from the world in my house, I go out and I take great measures to pretend to be a "real" functioning person in the world, so no one will know there is something wrong with me.
I stuff (pun intended) my feelings down inside of myself because I can't show the world how pathetic I truly am, being a 32-year-old 7th grader who can't break free from what I was told I am.
The funny thing is, the overweight person thinks that seeing numbers go down on a scale will give it all back to you: happiness, acceptance, confidence. Maybe that's true to an extent for some people. As for me, I think it is more important that I start addressing the self-hatred. If I do this, I don't know what will happen to me physically. Maybe I haven't even seen the darkness before the dawn with my appearance. One thing I know is that I cannot go on like this forever, and expect that I will find a way to make my life fulfilling.
I hope that growing up has taught me some things, like those mean girls in school were so ugly inside, and that what's inside DOES matter. This is so cliche to say. But it's the truth. I don't mean things like being nice, agreeable, and fun so others like you. I mean that I hope at some point I can grow confidence and love-for-self that will enable me to do the things in life that matter, like raising children and contributing in meaningful ways to those I love and to the world. I've heard it said, "Life is not a dress rehearsal" and even at 32, I do feel that life is passing before my eyes. My big fat-surrounded eyes. That is not how I want it to be, so it's time to start getting over my hurdles.
I am overweight. Not just a little. I'm at the highest weight I've ever been in my life, and this fact is consuming my life 110%. Every choice I make and thing I do revolves around how much I weigh. Examples:
1. I don't wear shorts. I'd rather be unbearably hot.
2. I don't post my current pictures on this blog.
3. I look at and immediately hate all thin women, assuming they'd just skated their way through their fabulously charmed skinny lives. (I hate that I do this...it's SO wrong of me, but if I'm being honest, it's the truth).
4. I plan every move I make around "When and what am I going to eat next?"
5. I assume everyone who sees me is only looking at how fat I am, what I'm eating and then placing heaps of judgment on me. (Converse to point #3 above).
6. I closet eat. Fast food is my favorite.
7. I commit to myself everyday, that "today is going to be the day I put the fork down", and then sabotage myself 100%.
You may say, so why don't you just lose weight? Well, let me tell you, I'd love to. But I've come to realize that weight is not about being fat, and finding a way to make it fall off your body. Ask any dieter, we are experts, more than anyone, how to lose weight. We've lost it, gained it, lost it, gained it.
For me being overweight is about 2 things:
1. Hating myself. Those who know me may say, "Wait a minute! I know you Shannon, you don't seem to hate yourself!" But you know what? I do. Let me explain: I like things about myself. I think I am funny and I'm pretty smart. It is possible to hate yourself and still like some parts of yourself. But I've come to realize that I am compelled to punish myself for being who I am, which is someone who grew up always wanting more, and being made fun of for not having the "things" society places value on, like money and looks. I realized earlier this week that the emotion associated with my first childhood memory of myself is shame. I was 2 years old and I was in the front yard of our house. We were moving out of it, because we couldn't afford it. Somehow as a 2-year-old, I knew this was something to be ashamed of.
I am SHOCKED to realize that even at 2 years old, I was ashamed of something like that. Our family got along fine and we had food on the table and I was never abused, so it's not like I lived some tragic childhood, but I realize that in my childhood, seeds were being planted....seeds of inadequacy, shame, and self-dislike. At a very young age I was comparing myself to other kids. I didn't have the expensive clothes and good looks that other kids had. Sure, I was a nice person, but really didn't see a lot of value in that. From a young age, and even still now, I am in a constant cycle of self-criticism.
It's seems to be a paradox that people who don't like themselves get fat; if someone wanted to like themselves, it would be logical to transform into something likable. Ah, but that's where the food comes in. FOOD.
2. Food
Food=love
Food=good feelings
Food=comfort
Food=non-judgmental friend
I was a skinny kid until puberty, when I started those awkward years...bad hair, bad clothes, still not cool enough, ugly (because 5ft 10in tall at a size 9 is SO FAT). And all of those girls who didn't go through that ugliness are vicious. They made sure to point this out to those of us who had to struggle through, that they were better than us. You could not make friends with these people, but you could escape their meanness....my first coping mechanism was staying home from school, avoidance, and crucifying myself in my mind. Pretty soon food became a great distraction.
I feel pathetic in admitting this: I am still struggling with my ugly years. I am still in 7th grade being told by these girls how ugly or weird I am and how I don't measure up. Only their voices have transformed into my own voice, because I was, and am still, willing to believe, every word they said.
So I've gone through life, facing and defeating some things, failing and succeeding at some things, just like everybody else. But the one thing I'm still not able to touch is self-hatred. This has manifested in so many ways:
I've made food my absolute best friend (for all reasons mentioned above and so many more), and driven all other friends out of my life so me and my food can be alone.
While I'd rather hide from the world in my house, I go out and I take great measures to pretend to be a "real" functioning person in the world, so no one will know there is something wrong with me.
I stuff (pun intended) my feelings down inside of myself because I can't show the world how pathetic I truly am, being a 32-year-old 7th grader who can't break free from what I was told I am.
The funny thing is, the overweight person thinks that seeing numbers go down on a scale will give it all back to you: happiness, acceptance, confidence. Maybe that's true to an extent for some people. As for me, I think it is more important that I start addressing the self-hatred. If I do this, I don't know what will happen to me physically. Maybe I haven't even seen the darkness before the dawn with my appearance. One thing I know is that I cannot go on like this forever, and expect that I will find a way to make my life fulfilling.
I hope that growing up has taught me some things, like those mean girls in school were so ugly inside, and that what's inside DOES matter. This is so cliche to say. But it's the truth. I don't mean things like being nice, agreeable, and fun so others like you. I mean that I hope at some point I can grow confidence and love-for-self that will enable me to do the things in life that matter, like raising children and contributing in meaningful ways to those I love and to the world. I've heard it said, "Life is not a dress rehearsal" and even at 32, I do feel that life is passing before my eyes. My big fat-surrounded eyes. That is not how I want it to be, so it's time to start getting over my hurdles.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Bike
My husband bought me a bike last Friday!! We got it at Target and I was so excited that when we walked out of the store, I immediately hopped on the bike and rode around the Target parking lot! I'm sure I looked like a ding bat, but I don't care! I also got a cute little bell that I attached to it. I love to ride my bike and ring the bell. I feel like a 9 year old again!
I tried finding a helmet, but apparently I must have a big head because none of the helmets at Target fit me. I'll be checking out a bike shop soon. I want a pink one.
I tried finding a helmet, but apparently I must have a big head because none of the helmets at Target fit me. I'll be checking out a bike shop soon. I want a pink one.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
A dollar
The other day, as I was waiting for the bus, a man was walking down the street and stopping to talk to people. I knew exactly what he was doing, he was asking people for money. Everyone was turning him down, as most people do. I mean, we've been taught not to give money to people who beg, as they're probably going to buy drugs and alcohol with it, or he's probably got tons of money stashed somewhere.
I was inevitably approached, and you know what? The guy asked if I had a dollar to spare. And right then and there I decided to put away my assumptions, because I don't know that he is going to use any money I give him for something bad. Yes, I had a dollar to spare. This man very politely thanked me and said that we all just need a little help sometimes.
Like I said, I don't know what he'll do with my dollar. It didn't appear that he was having a lot of success, so I highly doubt that he was going to do much damage with the money he'd collected.
You may say I've been taken, ripped off, and a fool for giving someone money. I don't know that, only he does. One thing I do know though, is that it made me feel like a nice person to give someone a hand. It was worth a dollar for me to stop being cynical and judgmental for a little while.
I was inevitably approached, and you know what? The guy asked if I had a dollar to spare. And right then and there I decided to put away my assumptions, because I don't know that he is going to use any money I give him for something bad. Yes, I had a dollar to spare. This man very politely thanked me and said that we all just need a little help sometimes.
Like I said, I don't know what he'll do with my dollar. It didn't appear that he was having a lot of success, so I highly doubt that he was going to do much damage with the money he'd collected.
You may say I've been taken, ripped off, and a fool for giving someone money. I don't know that, only he does. One thing I do know though, is that it made me feel like a nice person to give someone a hand. It was worth a dollar for me to stop being cynical and judgmental for a little while.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Need a vacation
Growing up, we were not the type of family that took vacations. I mean the kind that you go away for many days in a row. I was always kind of jealous of my peers in school who got to go away to Florida on Spring Break, or some other seemingly "exotic" destination. Our family just didn't have the money to do it. (One of the trade-offs though, was having a mom at home full-time, which was priceless.) Sure we took some adventures for 1 or 2 days, which were always fun but, I never grew up knowing what a real vacation was, nor really knowing why someone would *need* a vacation. I get it now.
Kevin and I both work full time, are still newlyweds, and have a fixer-upper we bought a year ago. And I think we're both just tired. Tired of doing what we "should" do, and feeling guilty about the things we didn't do that we "should've". (Just wait till we have kids right?!?!) I feel though that we are both running out of steam. I'm not saying we're working ourselves to death, not taking out any time for ourselves, but I think we both need to just get away from the routine. We don't lead a hard life by any stretch of the imagination, but even things that may not appear energy-consuming on the surface can take their toll after a while. Like planning the weekly menu, or running the Saturday errands...they start to get annoying after a while, ya know? On the whole, I am extremely grateful that we are able to pay our bills, have some fun, and even save money.
Despite it all, WE NEED A BREAK!!!
Kevin and I have been very blessed this year, despite the national economic decline of late. And we are gonna take that vacation! I think we're close to settling on an eastern Caribbean cruise. The cruise ship is named "Miracle". And maybe with a little stroke of luck, a little "miracle" will appear in our lives 9 months after that cruise is over...
Kevin and I both work full time, are still newlyweds, and have a fixer-upper we bought a year ago. And I think we're both just tired. Tired of doing what we "should" do, and feeling guilty about the things we didn't do that we "should've". (Just wait till we have kids right?!?!) I feel though that we are both running out of steam. I'm not saying we're working ourselves to death, not taking out any time for ourselves, but I think we both need to just get away from the routine. We don't lead a hard life by any stretch of the imagination, but even things that may not appear energy-consuming on the surface can take their toll after a while. Like planning the weekly menu, or running the Saturday errands...they start to get annoying after a while, ya know? On the whole, I am extremely grateful that we are able to pay our bills, have some fun, and even save money.
Despite it all, WE NEED A BREAK!!!
Kevin and I have been very blessed this year, despite the national economic decline of late. And we are gonna take that vacation! I think we're close to settling on an eastern Caribbean cruise. The cruise ship is named "Miracle". And maybe with a little stroke of luck, a little "miracle" will appear in our lives 9 months after that cruise is over...
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Crash!
Welp, I got rear ended 2 days ago and have nice shiner under my left eye from whacking my head on the steering wheel (OUCH!).
No, my husband does not abuse me. (I'm going to tell people I got into a barroom brawl, to make me sound tough).
I was being pitiful for the last two days, but now I'm doing better. Of course the house is a complete disaster because I haven't felt like cleaning, but maybe tonight I can re-establish some semblance of order.
Why do I get in so many car accidents?
1988-was in a car that got t-boned
1996-hit someone head on (at a low rate of speed, thank goodness, but it totaled my friend's car)
2002-was hit by cute boy who was not amused that I told him he should take me out to dinner (pre-Kevin days)
2002-2 weeks after the other 2oo2 wreck, on my birthday in my 2 week old car. I rear ended a guy, and he was creepy and asked me out. (I said no.)
2006-got rear ended twice by the same person in NYC, on the way home from our honeymoon
2007-car got backed into by my brother (that one was kind of funny)
and now 2008-got rear ended, and my bumper is being replaced so that dent from when my brother rear ended me last year will be taken care of
Ok, that's 7 accidents, 2 were my fault. I don't need anymore thank you.
No, my husband does not abuse me. (I'm going to tell people I got into a barroom brawl, to make me sound tough).
I was being pitiful for the last two days, but now I'm doing better. Of course the house is a complete disaster because I haven't felt like cleaning, but maybe tonight I can re-establish some semblance of order.
Why do I get in so many car accidents?
1988-was in a car that got t-boned
1996-hit someone head on (at a low rate of speed, thank goodness, but it totaled my friend's car)
2002-was hit by cute boy who was not amused that I told him he should take me out to dinner (pre-Kevin days)
2002-2 weeks after the other 2oo2 wreck, on my birthday in my 2 week old car. I rear ended a guy, and he was creepy and asked me out. (I said no.)
2006-got rear ended twice by the same person in NYC, on the way home from our honeymoon
2007-car got backed into by my brother (that one was kind of funny)
and now 2008-got rear ended, and my bumper is being replaced so that dent from when my brother rear ended me last year will be taken care of
Ok, that's 7 accidents, 2 were my fault. I don't need anymore thank you.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Some one was mean to me.
It's hopefully pretty rare that someone is literally mean to you. I mean, I can't really remember the last time before today that someone was just mean. This is what happened.
I was pulling into a parking spot today, and misjudged a little, and *tapped* a car on it's bumper. I mean, really, tapped. It just so happened that the person whose car it was, was coming out of the store. She saw what happened and came running to my car, yelling "No, no, no, no" and wagging her finger at me. She was accusing me of trying to flee the scene of the crime because when I tapped the car, I started to back up, as driving forward was not what I wanted to do. I profusely apologized and she was so snotty to me, I became defensive. I won't go into the details, but pretty much, there was NO damage to her car, and she was acting like was on a mission to steal her first born child. I offered all my info, name, number, car insurance, and she didn't take it, and at the end, she felt compelled to give me a driving lesson. This was not a good experience.
I obviously know, I was completely to blame for bumping the car. I can live with that. Sure I feel pretty stupid about it, but I can't unring the bell. And yes, she had the right to be angry. But I think what struck me is her behavior in this situation. It's amazing how poorly people handle things sometimes (me included). It can take the slightest thing to turn people from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. Some are more vicious than others. It's a good lesson, to remember that no one is perfect and sometimes people do things unintentionally, and that doesn't mean that they are the devil incarnate. My misjudging, and her nastiness are hopefully not indicators of how we are as people on the whole.
I was very upset after the encounter. I called Kevin and cried on his shoulder. That helped. It then occurred to me that the way I could redeem my feeling stupid and being angry at the mean lady was to continue my shopping and be extra nice to everyone I encountered. It really worked. The shopping also helped. (I'm a girl, ya know....retail therapy is good.)
I'm pretty much over it now, and I hope the mean lady is doing ok too. I truly am sorry about disturbing her, and will now be much more careful about parking.
I was pulling into a parking spot today, and misjudged a little, and *tapped* a car on it's bumper. I mean, really, tapped. It just so happened that the person whose car it was, was coming out of the store. She saw what happened and came running to my car, yelling "No, no, no, no" and wagging her finger at me. She was accusing me of trying to flee the scene of the crime because when I tapped the car, I started to back up, as driving forward was not what I wanted to do. I profusely apologized and she was so snotty to me, I became defensive. I won't go into the details, but pretty much, there was NO damage to her car, and she was acting like was on a mission to steal her first born child. I offered all my info, name, number, car insurance, and she didn't take it, and at the end, she felt compelled to give me a driving lesson. This was not a good experience.
I obviously know, I was completely to blame for bumping the car. I can live with that. Sure I feel pretty stupid about it, but I can't unring the bell. And yes, she had the right to be angry. But I think what struck me is her behavior in this situation. It's amazing how poorly people handle things sometimes (me included). It can take the slightest thing to turn people from Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. Some are more vicious than others. It's a good lesson, to remember that no one is perfect and sometimes people do things unintentionally, and that doesn't mean that they are the devil incarnate. My misjudging, and her nastiness are hopefully not indicators of how we are as people on the whole.
I was very upset after the encounter. I called Kevin and cried on his shoulder. That helped. It then occurred to me that the way I could redeem my feeling stupid and being angry at the mean lady was to continue my shopping and be extra nice to everyone I encountered. It really worked. The shopping also helped. (I'm a girl, ya know....retail therapy is good.)
I'm pretty much over it now, and I hope the mean lady is doing ok too. I truly am sorry about disturbing her, and will now be much more careful about parking.
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