I Got A Case of SAFS

That stands for: Shame, Anger, Fear, and Sadness.

I am trying to honor my truth and stay with myself today. The addict in me is always trying to escape from unpleasantness, especially if the unpleasantness is coming from within me. Denial, distraction, scattered thinking -- all these tricks up my sleeve to avoid the real problem - an aversion to my darker feelings and an aversion to pain.

However, I know there's a difference between "pain" and "suffering." Pain is real. Pain is true, pain is what is left from circumstances or outdated beliefs I have and rattles around inside me like a ghost haunting a house. Suffering is what happens when I ignore the truth. Suffering is running from the original pain, and causing even more pain for myself than slowing down and listening to what is actually going on inside of me.

One of the things that draws me to the practice of buddhism is how Buddhism allows for real pain. Buddhism tells me to give the real feelings I have some space and pay gentle and loving attention to them instead of trying to kill them outright.

In doing this practice, I am in touch with what I am feeling today -- and I'm feeling shame, anger, fear, and sadness.

The shame is old old stuff - sometimes I'm angry that it's still there because I feel like I've done so much WORK on myself, and yet, it's probably the oldest demon in my Pandora's Box.

What I'm feeling angry and sad about is the big three -- my work, my relationship, and my body. I love the SigOth very much, and he is very uncommunacative. I knew this going in, I don't expect him to change, but knowing he's the way he is and accepting him for who he is doesn't make me any less sad that he's not verbally falling all over me and telling me how much he loves me or for that matter, begging for my hand in marriage.

I'm mad at myself because after having a Big Talk with my boss he pretty much painted me into a corner by saying (in gist) "It's my way or the highway, and you are a HUGE JERK if you choose to take the highway." If I were being true to myself I would have said, "Then I am a huge jerk, here's my notice" instead of agreeing to try to make an unacceptable situation acceptable to me. My only recourse now is to put my Plan B in action: save an emergency fund and give notice when this horrible project is completed in seven weeks. SEVEN WEEKS!!! I don't know how I am going to manage to tough it out that long when there are some days when I feel like I can't even stand to be here for seven more MINUTES. I am praying a lot and I'm "leaning into the sharp places" and just allowing my discontent and unhappiness space to exist without reacting to it or getting upset because I have these feelings.

That's the hardest thing for me. The "suffering". I get UPSET about being upset and compound the problem. I think if I just take deeper breaths and just BE with myself where I am right now, I won't feel so obsessed, possessed and crazed.

I am also trying to allow myself to have the conflicted feelings I have about my body and weight loss in general. I keep feeling like I have to be one way or the other -- I have to be OK with myself RIGHT NOW or I have to be COMMITTED to weight loss and changing my body which basically says that I am NOT ok with myself right now.

In my case, it's just not that black and white. Of course I want to lose weight: I don't want back surgery, diabetes, thigh chafing in the summer, and feeling uncomfortable in sleeveless shirts. Of course I want to be ok with myself right now as is: it's ridiculous that my worth is based upon my appearance - a lot of which comes down to a genetic crap shoot and the reality of aging.

I like who I am, and I want to lose weight for many reasons including vain ones. I hate how our society treats the Fat. I hate how Fatness is such a HUGE topic in the news all the time and how being Fat is DEADLY and destroying the envoirnment and kicking puppies. Part of me wants to be fat as a Fuck You. Part of me doesn't want to turn myself inside out for the approval of people I don't even know or care about. OR for approval of people who DO know me and DO care about me. I don't even know why I think about this crap and wish I didn't but I do.

I am sad that my battle with my weight has been going on for half of my life. HALF OF MY LIFE so far. I am angry that I can't just do whatever the hell I want -- including getting drunk, doing drugs, smoking Camel Ultra Lights and eating whatever I want -- without consequences. I don't like the consequences, so I am a sober, clean, non-smoker struggling with food.

Scared -- I am scared. I'm scared I'll always be fat. I'm scared I'll end up alone and dirt poor. I'm scared that I will never fulfill the potential I allegedly have. I am afraid that I won't be able to get out of this job sooner than the seven weeks or after. I am afraid that I am mediocre and always will be. I am afraid I am wasting space. I am afraid of people breaking into my house in the middle of the night. I am afraid that I am going to be dumped the second the younger boy graduates from high school (thanks for planting that one, Mom). I am afraid of my feelings, because I am afraid I have to make big changes and I am afraid of loss and I am afraid of not ever getting what I want, and living in perpetual longing.

That is the truth of my experience today. It's hard to act nice and smile when I am feeling so many things all at once. Thank God my favorite AA meeting is tonight, I don't have many places where I can take all this feeling in me.

Fall Down Seven Times - Get Up Eight.

One thing I'll say for me -- like my little feline friend over here, I never completely give up.

I can't say my food situation is perfect, but I am really accepting that if I want to see some real results in the way my body looks and feels, I have to change what I am eating. Working out alone won't do it.

I need to make it easy for myself though. Easier than a drive-thru.

I've heard people talk about baking a bunch of chicken breasts on a Sunday and just having them around to make a quick chicken salad or even just to have the breast to throw in a pita. I could do that. I also am a fan of making a big salad and spreading out the eating of it over a few days. My new favorite thing to throw in my salad is dried cranberries and chopped Granny Smith apples. They add a nice tang and crunch.

I have also decided to try Ritalin for my ADD -- I'm on the lowest dosage and I'm taking the short-acting kind. So far the biggest difference I feel is I don't have that free-floating anxiety I always have. My thoughts seem a little more organized, and coupled with attempting a few new routines (master lists -- prioritizing a la "7 Habits") I've felt a little more in control of my life. It's only been two weeks, so I'm still waiting to see if this is going to be a long-term solution. I'm still taking my fish oil and tree bark.

I have been really stressed at work - last week I dissolved into tears at my desk at least four out of the five days. I think I take everything too personally -- it's just business. My boss and I discussed how he thinks I'm doing great and how I think I'm doing horribly. He told me absolutely that he can't demote me back to an admin, and that my only option is to quit if I truly don't think I can do this - even though he "KNOWS" I can. He also said, "It's your perogative to walk away from Nightmare Project, but I know you're not that kind of person."

Manipulative!! He has no idea what kind of person I am. I've had 70 jobs and quit most of them ignobly. I've gone out to lunch and never gone back. I've made up elaborate shameful lies and then taken a new job four doors down. I've faked injuries. I've faked death. I've quit via payphone on the way IN to work.

Now I'm the kind of person who stays to complete a horrible project that I loathe despite the huge cost to my personal sense of peace. When the hell did that happen?

I committed to give it an honest try - with the help of some coworkers - and I am committing to myself that if in a few weeks I am still crying at my desk, I am going to give notice. I will feel good about doing it too, because I'll know I did my best and tried my hardest.

I also just have to say I'm pleased that Kristy Lee is GONE now. I only wish she kicked it two weeks ago so I could have had more Michael Johns. I'm still not over that. I'm still not calling and voting either.

America Is SO SO SO WRONG

This is not a political rant.

This is me wailing in despair that Michael Johns was eliminated from American Idol last night. Why?? How come Kristy Lee Cook is still there? She should have gotten the boot WEEKS ago.

It's sick and wrong. Sick and wrong.

Um, yeah..I didn't call and vote, but still.

A "No Duh" Moment = Personal Heartbreak

I have an earth-shattering revelation to share. This is something that I had never really believed but have now -- in horror -- have come to belive is an immutable truth. This causes me tremendous emotional pain and I have nowhere to turn with this except to let it all out on the page.

Ready?

I cannot eat whatever the hell I want without consequences.

I know, I know. EVERYBODY says this: doctors, the media, anorexics, my mother, fellow journeymates on the path towards fitness and health, but I never really believed it, honestly. I always secretly thought I could kind of get away with it if I worked out hard enough or if I balanced out eating fast food every single day for lunch by eating some kind of super-healthy breakfast or drinking only water all day. I thought I could play some kind of fuzzy math with calories and that it would enable me to maintain my current weight if not lose it.

Then I stepped on the scale tonight.

I've been doing a very heavy workout rotation with The Firm video series to happy affect. I've been taking my measurements once a week and have been losing inches every week. But the needle on the scale isn't moving, and when it is, it's creeping up. I had to ask myself why and the answer is that I have been eating pretty much whatever the hell I want with no kind of censorship or even real sanity. Nerds? I'll take them! An entire bag of snowflake rolls? That's mine. Fast food every day for lunch? Pop tarts? Valentine's candy and Easter candy? I am eating all that shit.

I am at a weight I haven't seen in well over a year, this is my HOLY SHIT RED FLAG I'M FUCKED GOOD GOD I'M FAT weight.

Granted, I am enormously stressed out right now at work. The Nightmare Project that is eating my soul is getting increasingly worse with more problems that I'm being thrown in the middle of. The desperation I feel to get out of my company is increasing and yet there seem to be no jobs in the paper. I am feeling more and more backed into a corner with no relief. I am turning to the oldest friend/drug I have, and that's food.

I know what I need to do, I need to write down what I'm eating. I need to listen to my self-hypnosis cd's - if only to deeply relax. I need to still put one foot in front of the other to find a new job because I am so unhappy I can only see leaving as the only option, yet I don't want to do that until I secure another job. I want to be responsible and respectful to my boss because I really like and respect him and don't want to just storm out in a huff, which I am tempted to do daily.

I cannot go on like this. I have to curtail the food part of my misery.

But this makes me really sad. Right away the addict part of me is screaming in misery at the thought of deprivation of any kind. I'm resentful and angry to find out that I am just like everybody else and at the mercy of science: too many calories in/not enough calories burned equals a big fat belly.

Oh, then I saw this article today on MSNBC how weight around the belly contributes to Alzheimer's Disease. Like I'm not stressed out enough now I have to worry about truly losing my mind, too.

Sometimes I get deeply angry at God that I am fat -- I KNOW, I'm ONLY SUPPOSED to BLAME MYSELF, but I almost feel like I have been CURSED. That this battle with my appetites and weight while living in the current climate of fat-hatred is some kind of vicious karmic punishment because of something I did in my past life that I can't figure out, and if I could only UNDO it the curse would be lifted and I wouldn't have to have all the daily pain and misery of fretting about every goddamned thing I put in my mouth or how much I've exercised or NOT exercised. The curse would be lifted and I could EAT whatever the hell I goddamn wanted without consequences.

But alas, I cannot. I truly cannot. I need to be careful about what I eat if I want to lose weight and be fit. I am just like everybody else. I am not immune or exempt. And I am heartbroken over this tonight.

More Midlife Soul Scouring and Navel Gazing

I have so much to be grateful for. I am aware of this, I am not blind to the fact that my life is a relatively good life and that I have many blessings in many areas.

Yet...

I never had a baby. It's not technically too late, but the SigOth doesn't want any more kids, and I don't actually want to raise an infant now. I'm not burning to have a baby but part of me wonders if I should have.

My face is changing. I don't think old=ugly and useless, far from that. But my mortality looms. My mother looks older, too, and this scares me because I can't imagine life without her even though I know someday both of us will pass, as we must.

Aches and pains get my attention - when did this start happening? I know a few years ago my back went out on me and it's bugged me off and on ever since. I've been exercising very vigorously for the last few weeks and my body feels great. I suppose this is going to have to remain part of my lifestyle if I am going to feel good instead of achy and old.

I'm also still sort of mourning the romantic dreams of my youth -- I have a great relationship but it's by no means a bodice-ripper. I don't know why this is bugging me so much this week, because I am a pragmatic woman and have often said that I HAVE HAD grand passion and tumult and am much happier in what I have now - which might now have the fighting and passionate makeups but is very GOOD for me! I'm not bored or turned off! We could communicate more -- ok, amend that, LB - I communicate to a WALL and he doesn't communicate much back to me, and I have to see validation of his care for me in the way he acts. I'd rather be shown love than told love, especially since I have been told I was loved and found other women's scrunchies in my bed.

So what is it that bothers me? Do I really want the SigOth to bare his soul and ask me to marry him? Do I even want to get married? As things are, I can always leave, I have an escape clause that isn't as complicated as a divorce. I can leave whenever I want. Sure, it would hurt like hell and I'd be wracked with guilt over the boys, but if I do decide that I can't live with things the way they are, then I have an option. All marriage would offer would be the illusion of security and some legal benefits that I do not have. I don't think marriage is a real security. My mother thought it was and she thought wrong.

I feel like a wadded up ball of paper. I have conflicting yearnings and feelings, I have some anger, I have a lot of sadness and mostly I have been to a place like this before. I know that I just need to hunker down and let the storm pass and not stuff my face with food like I want to. Overeating right now would be like putting a band-aid on a bullet hole. It won't help.

What helps is what I am doing. Writing about it, whining to friends, putting one foot in front of the other. The other side of this storm is peace.

Pre-Turning 40 Freak Out

I think I'm having some sort of midlife crisis.

It's hard to put into words without sounding melodramatic, but it's my blog so if melodrama is what I feel, that's what I'm going to write.

I feel like there's a part of me dying - a part that is about the passions and follies of youth, the part that wants desperate panting puppy love, the part that dreams big crazy ridiculous dreams. I feel like I have painted myself into a corner with the responsibilities I have taken on voluntarily and that I can't UNDO anything I've done without causing great pain to people I care about. I am not unfettered.

I feel like I am never going to have deep passionate love in my life ever again. I feel like I am going to become stale like bread.

In Absentia:

I've committed to working out with "The Firm" series of DVDs. They're not lying about visible results in 10 workouts. In a week and a half, I've lost 1" off my bust and hips, 1.5" off my waist. My arms are sore, but I feel great.

If only I could get up first thing in the morning to do it, but I cannot.

I'm also writing down everything I eat - an old holdover from the OA days - but it makes me accountable.

Hating the job -- sort of looking around for something with less responsibility - I have to admit who I am to myself and that is someone who wants to make some money but doesn't want to have to work 60-70 hours a week. I think it would be nice to answer phones at a veterinarian's office.