I am

- an athlete trapped in a fat girl's body

- a manager living as an assistant

- a lover who loves one who cannot be loved

- a mother without a child of her own

- a dream living a nightmare

I am going to awaken again.

I will. 

Because I am.

For the record

Because sometimes I think I'm too easy on myself and sometimes too hard but it's hard to figure out which time is which, I'd just like to say.

I'm really stoned.

I need to spend some time not stone. I want to. I choose to. I will.

Flush.

Maybe.

Eek.

He said

Bev and I got engaged. After a long time of trying to find a place I feel like I am at home I found it. That place is anywhere she is. I love her of course. That is without question. And I love all of her. That is the truth. But now that I am older I know love can be in vain. It isn’t enough, even if you have a heart full of it as I do for her. I love her more and deeper than any other person I have ever loved.

What we are above and past love is what matters. We are home, we speak the same language and I trust her, I believe in her. I know that if I get sick she will be there. If I fall down she’ll be there and if I need her to, she’ll stand back and let me find my way when I need to. That’s important. I have found someone who not only knows, but can read my signals and signs and she can tell when to let go and give me room to tilt at windmills, throw punches at ghosts and piss into the wind. Give me room to grow and to make mistakes. And I would do all the same for her. And more. I have never wanted to give anyone all of myself, my energy or all my focus before. I always held a bit back, like keeping my hand on one side of the pool without pushing off. Because I knew at some point I would need to get all the back out again. This year was when I went all in.

That’s what 2013 is to me, the year I found out I can let go and go forward. I am never going back again. They say life is a journey and not a destination. But I have come to the place I never need to go away from again. And now the rest is just gravy…Life is a gift shop now.

Don’t even get me started (because I’ll cry) on how much Ruby has grown. Boy! Is there ever such a big difference between 5 and 6! I am starting to see the first shadows of the young woman she will be, completely separate from us. All on her own. And it’s exciting and scary and a little strange. Time goes on and babies grow to little people and little people become fully formed humans.

When I left Ruby’s mom when she was just 17 months old and I had to visit with Ruby in parks and at other people’s houses because I lived in a rented room, I could have never seen this as where we’d be. But at the same time, this is exactly where I wanted to be. We are a family and I was almost certain it would never happen again to me. But I sure wished for it.

I don’t have any wishes of resolutions for 2014. Except for more financial security. But isn’t that every year? We will probably get married. And we’ll continue our life just as naturally as it has always been. It just feels like what we are and where we are is exactly as it should be.

That’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Fool for food

When I was growing up, my parents made bad food the most exciting thing in my life. We didn’t have pop or chips or fresh baked goods. We didn’t have dessert, cake or pudding or pie. But when we were celebrating we had it all. 

On my birthday I got to choose my favourite type of cake; Mom would bake it in the shape of my current beloved fictional character. There were so many types of cookies at my birthday parties, Oh, the snow balls and fudge squares. I didn’t even have to taste the ones I thought might not be awesome… I was able to pig out on the good stuff. And no one even said anything about it!

At birthday parties when I was a kid, no one said “Bev, you don’t need that” like they said every other day.  I didn’t have to watch my mother weigh out portions or count calories; I didn’t have to listen to my father grunt in disgust because we had to have vegetables again. Birthday parties were swell. 

Every other day we ate what we were told to eat. And we were told to eat every single morsel of food on our plate. Based on Mom’s serving size, not our individual appetite. And, as both of my parents had grown up in their own version of poverty, we had food in abundance. Not chips and candy, but a lot of processed, carbohydrate rich, comfort food. 

We were living in a newly established town that was isolated and in the harsh Labrador north. It was too cold for livestock, the climate didn’t allow for growing vegetables or fruit. Food came from the grocery store and was frozen or canned or boxed. We didn’t even have a restaurant in our town so we had to go to the next town and that was very rare.

When I started earning a weekly allowance, I would make a beeline down to the corner store with my BFF and we’d buy gum and chocolate and chips and candy and lolipops and ice cream and ohmygoditwassomuchfun! The power of money and the ability to buy/eat whatever I wanted was heady and exciting for me. I started taking money when I ran out of my own. I picked the pockets of my parents and anyone who came to visit them. And I spent every penny of it on junk food. 

That didn’t last very long, to be honest. I always felt guilty for taking something that wasn’t mine and, more than fear of being caught and punished, I didn’t want anyone to know that I was terrible person who would do such a thing. It was about that time, too, that I learned how to make my own money through babysitting. And I loved babysitting because I could make the kids go to bed and have complete control over what I watched and what I ate. 

My family was not active by any means. Mom was always doing something, puttering, getting things done when she came home from work or a meeting from the many committees/groups she was involved in. Dad spent the most of his time lying on the couch - at the time we thought he was cranky but we now know he was suffering from some pretty intense depression/anxiety issues. 

I wanted to be athletic. I wanted to be a gymnast and a ballerina, I wanted to run and swim and skate and play basketball. I had an energy that I didn’t know 

I think I taught myself to celebrate again. And I liked it so I kept celebrating. Celebrating is better, it’s more fun, it’s happy and buttercups and rainbows and best friends and girl movies and boys with big penises. 

The truth of a tweeter

When I can't eat whatever I want I feel like I'm being punished and start to wonder what I did wrong. Then I realized I could just stop doing whatever it is I think I'm being punished for.

Different? Or the same?

I've been thinking about going back on the antidepressant. I feel reasonably good on a personal level. I'm still nice to Jeff and the people at work, I'm mostly patient (maybe a little less but I can't say for sure). Choosing a workplace that forces me to smile was a good idea. It helps. Most of the time. 

I used to hate going to work but I didn't want to leave. Now I don't mind going to work but I can't wait to leave. My shit is half done. 

At home, I have to say, I think I'm pretty much the same. I've been making an effort to cook more and to deep clean more lately. Before I went off the Wellbutrin I was pretty much just doing the dishes and trying to make sure Jeff came home to a clean home in the morning. I went through a long spurt of barely even doing that over the summer. 

When did I gain all this weight? It seems to have come on in a hurry. Is it shameful to admit that I didn't see it going on? I watched it. I gave myself permission for every bag of chips and I shrugged off every chocolate bar. When I start beating myself up about food again? Did I ever really stop? 

I'm angry that I don't have any clothes. I thought I was angry because I can't afford to buy any more but I could get some stuff. I went to three stores today and felt like what I wanted didn't exist. And the other stuff costed too much for me to take a chance on it. I usually know what I want when I see it but nothing falls right anymore. And I'm completely the wrong shape for most plus size clothes. I don't have an ass, dammit. Every pound makes my ass concave a little more. 

Why did I go off these pills? Was it to see if I could? I know the upfont cost and the turn around time bugged me. But it also felt a bit like savings and I liked that. Did I think it would help me lose weight? Did I think it would make me feel better? 

I'm sad all the time. Not crying sad but just down. I don't want to make an effort. I thought pot would help. Motivate me or something. I honestly think that exercise would make a huge difference. I just can't seem to get my ass off the couch long enough to find out. 

I need patience. I need to let it unfold and see what happens. I'm just afraid... that's not fair. I'm assuming I'll fail. It's time to get back to assuming I'll succeed. 

And I need to figure out how I can make that happen. 

I am putting myself on the path, though, I think. I'm looking. I'm so fucking slow to do anything it's hilarious. But I am still doing. Today I walked from the far side of the Walmart parking lot over to Reitmans and then to Addition Elle, back to Walmart, out to the parking lot and back out to the pharmacy. I takes time and you can't really load up with purchases but I guess that's a pretty important part of it, too. 

I'm doing better. I'm happy, I'm okay. I just don't know if that still shows on the outside or if they're just remembering who/how I was. 

Pot calling the kettle fat

My boyfriend just bought me some pot. He's fucking awesome. And, if anyone actually reads this, you're going to see some stoned stuff for a while. It's very difficult to follow and probably hurtful and/or offensive but tremendously cathartic to me so please bear with me.

I told my mother that the very worst thing she did in raising me (we discuss and review these kinds of things frequently) was her refusal to let me fall. I can tell you where all my scars come from. All four of them. I can also tell you what I heard while healing from all four of them (two you can't really see anymore). I heard: See? Falling hurts, doesn't it? Don't do it again. And they were right. And I did my best to not hurt again. 

Okay, that's enough for now.