Life

As Im writing this, I have pie dough chilling in the fridge, my husband and one fluff taking a nap on the sofa, the other one at my feet. Our home is calm and quiet, and relatively clean. The sun is bright and the snow is finally melting. I have earth and seeds waiting for me to plant them. The meal plan for the next two weeks has been made. Thanks to the generosity of Jeff's parents, we have found a wonderful place to live after we leave here, which might even turn into our own house. Jeff is enjoying his school and getting amazing marks, I was offered a permanent position in my daycare, and I love my kids. Life is just... good. So Im going to enjoy it. Now excuse me while I go make a couple of pies for family.

I refuse

I refuse to let others dictate to me how I should feel about myself.


I refuse to live in fear of rejection.


I refuse to sit and wait for he world to change for me.


I refuse to let my own personal laziness and procrastination get the best of me over and over again.


I refuse to let hate take over my heart and my soul.


I refuse to force others into the box that my consciousness has created in order for me to feel comfortable with myself and the world.


I refuse to become complacent and stop trying to always better myself in every aspect of my life.


I refuse to hesitate to be honest because of fear of conflict.


I refuse to think that I am a monster because of my facial hair problem, something I have done everything I can possibly do to fix, something that will most likely never get better.


I refuse to be scared to be myself.


I refuse to choose anything else than love.


I refuse to feed trash to my body, and then speak trash to my soul.


I refuse to let my dreams fade away because of hesitation, fear, or any negative association.


I refuse to refuse myself the healing that I need, and that I deserve.

How Fat People Think: Part II

Situation: Giant potluck at work. Everybody brought a dish or two in, there is a veritable feast of food from all nationalities, the smell is divine. There is an air of festivities, everyone is talking to each other, people are laughing and having fun, our team leaders are handing out luaus because their announcing the winners of a trip to Hawaii at the same time. Everyone is having a good time and eating, plates on their desks, making multiple trips to the laden table. Everyone that is, except for me.

But as I subtly look around, I notice I’m not the only one. Three other people along with me are staying at their desks. No plates visible. We smile and laugh along with everyone, and we don’t look at each other except for a passing glance. But in that glance, there’s a world of veiled truth. The one thing we have in common? We’re all overweight. And the fat kids do not hang out at the buffet table.


I noticed this in myself as well as them, when we pass the tables, we do not look down. We didn’t comment on how good it smells, we don’t look with curiosity as the new plates are brought in, and we especially don’t sneak up for an early taste. Or a late taste for that matter. The other people don’t notice, except for one who very awkwardly asked if the man sitting next to me was hungry. Her voice died away as she said that, as if to say, I know how stupid that sounds, I mean look at you, when aren’t you hungry right? The man answered with an embarrassed laugh that he had eaten a big breakfast and wasn’t hungry. Ya, right. You and me both know, that little container of carrot sticks on your desk, the only thing you ate today,  isn’t making you happy.

 

 

We watch the other people flit back and forth to the table, opening bags and bottles, uncovering new dishes, things we just don’t do. Luckily for me, I work very early when there is no one, and my ‘lunch’ was at 9, when there was almost no one on the floor yet. So I went up quietly and quickly, threw a couple things on my plate, and walked downstairs to the cafeteria. I had picked up grapes and two crackers, and during the 30 seconds it took for me to do this, I imagined I could feel everyone’s disapproving glances on my back. But, knowing how things like this work, I had brought my own separate lunch and who do I see heating up his own lunch? The man who wasn’t hungry. We smiled at each other in understanding and sat far away from each other. Sounds made up? Sounds excessive? Sounds like morbid self restraint? In truth, its all just a reflex. Its not like there’s this secret meeting of fat people that teaches us how to act around things like this. Years of experience taught us how to act.

 

 

Years of looks and smirks. Years of passing comments that we weren’t supposed to overhear, or were depending on the cruelty of the person. Years of harmful jokes like ‘Quick, get what you want before (insert name) gets to the table’ and ‘HAHA WOW This is the second time you take some of (insert dish name) you must really be hungry’ or ‘I know you have a lot of room in there, have some more!’ or my personal favorite ‘Damn, you trying to feed an army?’. That last stayed with me for a long time, because it was meant to hurt, since I had a quarter of a sandwich and fruit salad on my plate. It elicited a lot of laughs from the surrounded crowd and made my 17 year old self dump the plate in the garbage and walk out of that conference room as fast as I could without actually running. Those events and others taught me never to willingly put myself in those situations. Same as those other people sitting at their desks without plates, a part but apart from the gathering. It’s something we get used to. We never put ourselves in the spotlight, we never open bags and dishes, we never get or ask for seconds, and we never volunteer to get food for someone else, unless directly asked.

 

 

I know this may sound unbelievable, but every word I wrote is true. Of course, as always, I don’t talk for all fat people out there, but this defense mechanism is something I’ve noticed in others as well as myself over the years. And sadly, there’s not much anyone can do about this. Except maybe compassion. Always compassion because we have none for ourselves.

Date in the woods

August Darkness

The month of August is akin to a month of darkness for me. I get very depressed, my thoughts are dark and often suicidal, and my heart, soul and being seems filled with pain and hurt and sad. Nothing makes it better, not a better diet and more exercise, not solitude or company, not drugs or alcohol. I can’t drown out the sadness. I’ve been like this for the past 13 years. I hate August. You know how people look forward to Christmas all year long? Well I’m like, but in reverse with August. The only thing that seem to make it more bearable is when J holds me at night and strokes my hair, as if I were a child. Soothing, simple. I forget for a while, enough to fall asleep.

 

It’s very hard for me to put this into writing, because I am admitting a weakness. And above all, I do not want people to see me as weak. I do not want people to pity me. And I do not want people, ever, to think that I say how dark I’m feeling for attention. Because all I want is to be left alone, but that hasn’t been working very well for me over the years, so I’m trying something new. With great fear and trepidation.  But I felt great relief when I admitted to T yesterday that I had some really bad thoughts running through my mind. And apart from J, who bless his soul is the one to pick up the pieces when he finds me crying on the couch rocking and mumbling incoherently at 3am, nobody else knows how bad it really gets. And it felt so bloody good to tell someone, and who better to tell? So I think this is the next step, because such a few amount of people actually know about my blog. I’ve also been thinking to consulting a therapist, but I don’t want them to file me away as crazy and pump me full of sleeping pills and anti-depressants. Maybe it’s a chemical imbalance in my brain.

 

All I know, is that I always feel like shit when August comes rolling in, and that its getting worst, and that its getting dangerous. Pray for my soul..

Above us, only sky

So, after literally not sleeping a wink during the night, I arose this morning to get to work for my regular 6-2 shift. Feeling exhausted and unsure how I would even get through the day, I drove off in the false night to do my best. Get to work, look at my schedule and realize that it was shifted on me, during my sick leave. I didn't work Mondays, and when I did work, it was from 8-4, traffic hours. Feeling like this pretty much was just one of those bad days where everything went wrong, I drove home to the sun slowly rising. Got into town, and decided to act on an impulse.

I have this spot, where after sleepless nights where I feel fucked up or psychotic, suicidal or depressed, I decide to collect my soul and pray. No, its not in a church, or anywhere near any religious spots. But I call this my secret spot, even though its open and used by the public. Its just no one shows up as early as I do. Its where I go after a dark night to remind me that there is still beauty in the world worth living to see. That the world is not all shit, despite what weve done to it. That there are places still where God's natural handiwork is still allowed to thrive and heal us, like it was meant to.

Lilypads and reed grass. You could clearly hear the bullfrog's clarion but the little buggers were well hidden.

Reflection.



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Morning dew was still quite present.

Secret little meadow.

Just before sunrise.

And then the light.



Wildflowers everywhere.

Wild apple tree, most probably crab apple, although the apples seemed a bit too large.



Morning glory, aptly named.

Road to nowhere and everywhere. Road to peace?

Le feuillage de nos arbres changent deja de couleur!

This little guy had an amazing clarion call.

Above us only skies.

Wake up sleepy head!

Tip of my toes

And this little guy sounded like a dying cat.

Although completely inedible, these berries are so beautiful.

Looks like ripening grapes.