Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Autumn has arrived.

Shall we do the "Oooo fall is sooo pretty" thing? Okay...fine.































Isn't it lovely?! *yawn*

While everyone else swoons about fuzzy socks, warm sweaters, colorful leaves, hot cocoa, and pumpkin spice EVERYTHING...I sit here with a scowl. Soon I will have to surrender my flip flops, my capris, my short sleeves. I will turn another year older in less than two weeks. Boo to that nonsense. How can I be almost 42? This is some kind of joke, man.

I'm cranky. I have been all day. Not really sure what my problem is. Bleh.

I was writing for awhile, doing prompts each day that were making me feel like a writer again. Well, kind of. I was flexing my creative muscles and it felt good. Even if the 10 minute pieces were crap, I was happy to be back in that place again. But it seems these days, work sucks me dry of all ambition. I almost fell asleep on the couch at 6pm....THAT is how truly exhausted I am. I love my job at the hospital, having to use my brain all day is a welcome change from the mindless drone of a cashier I am at the drug store. But dude...I am beat.

I'm hoping the words start coming forth again, that the weariness eases and allows the creativity out once more. Just writing this is exhausting. For reals.

Okay so I'm whiny...shut up..lol...here look at some pictures of my night at Lumiere...






Maybe I'll start giving this blog thing a whirl again...we'll see  xo

Monday, May 27, 2013

The Monster Inside...

"I write to explore all the things I'm afraid of." ~ Joss Whedon

That's easy to say...unless of course this is the shit in your head




Yeah.

Exploring this kind of stuff is pretty daunting. This is what happens when I close my eyes. My dreams are violent, blood-soaked, terrifying nightmares. For real. It's fascinating to me mostly because I'm not a big horror fan. I don't do particularly well with gore or "torture porn" as they call it these days. My skin crawls just remembering the films that are burned into my brain. I mean, I'm scared of the dark for crying out loud. Like...petrified!

So tell me, why is my subconscious so stabby?

It's no secret that I have been praying for a certain someone's death for many years now. No joke. I would go to the bastard's funeral in a red dress. And yes, I did threaten to stab him dead once upon a time but that was because he was my abuser and his threats got the better of me in the end. So while it may seem obvious where my rage comes from...it started well before he ever entered my life.

I've written dark characters before. Saoirse, who sought out victims to ease her insomnia. Chloe, who murdered her little friends and filled their dainty tea cups with their blood. But Heather is different. There is no clear reason for what she does. I don't know why I'm expecting her to reveal her motivations given that she came to me in a dream. As we all know, dreams rarely make any kind of sense. The brutality that permeates my subconscious usually ends with me waking up in the dark...scared, shaky, and praying to Jesus that I don't go back into it. Which I always do. Of course. 

The visual is so clear. The scene plays out vividly behind my eyes. The nightmare refuses to leave me so I figure the only way to rid myself of it is to get it down on paper. It seems easy enough but it's been so much harder than I thought, man. I'm having difficulty allowing her to butcher Gretchen when there is no clear motive. How do you let a character take a life so recklessly? Shouldn't she be somewhat sympathetic?Shouldn't she be explaining herself? Like, what the fuck, Heather...open your mouth and speak. If I'm going to open myself up to the darkest part of myself you should help a girl out. I'm not asking to have my hand held but she could at least pretend to care that I'm struggling. 


I can barely watch films like this so writing out the monsters that dwell inside me is one of the biggest writing challenges I have ever faced. 


I can feel you staring at me, Nicole and Elspeth. ;-) I know what you're both thinking, that resistance is a huge factor but isn't that understandable given the subject matter?


Did I mention that my biggest fear after heights is being stabbed to death? Hmm...interesting. I avoid gory films because they scare me but I embrace shows like The Following and Hannibal. It's fucked up to admit this but I like when Joe and Hannibal kill. I am drawn to their primal side, their darkness, their love of the kill. They live for it...the knife sliding in, the ritual of it...it has a romance to it that I totally understand. 


I'm a walking dichotomy. 


I haven't walked away from Heather, even though she is a mute at the moment. I usually do by now, I throw in the towel unless it all comes spilling out onto the page in one sitting. This is a whole new experience and I refuse to succumb to the quitter in me. Fuck that.


I haven't been writing regularly in so long that it's easier to give up but instead I decided to revive the blog and see if maybe that draws Heather out into the light. Maybe she won't start talking until her knife finds Gretchen but I'm sticking around until she lifts the burden for me. 


Like Stephen King said, "Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes they win."


We are both waiting for me to stop being afraid of my inner killer. 

Maybe it's time to let the monster win.


Monday, September 24, 2012

Don't let me get me...




Have you ever felt too complicated even for yourself? Like when you dig deep into your psyche to figure out your reasons for continually fucking up and what you discover is so complex and messy that even you can't wrap your head around it?

That's how I feel when I am forced to confront the demons tied to my weight and body issues.

Oh and yes, I'm discussing body image again so if you are sick to death of me trying to work through my struggle...feel free to not read any further. I'll be none the wiser. ;-)

I used to be thin once upon a time. But even when I was, my contempt for my body didn't let me enjoy what I had. And when I say that, I don't mean that you have to be thin to enjoy your body...I mean that I took for granted eating what I wanted and not having to exercise at all to look that way. I had no idea how lucky I was.

Most of my life, I have been at war with myself. I have yo-yo'd so long that I have no idea what my average weight has been over the years. I have been all over the map. At 26, weighed 145...that was after losing 45 lbs at Weight Watchers. I had to work out 5 days a week and really cut back on servings. I cut out junk food but didn't deprive myself. I looked and felt amazing.

I remember looking in the mirror to admire my ass in jeans. Seriously...like I would make my friends take notice of how hot it looked..lol. I appreciated it for the first time. So what happened? Well...I got pregnant. I watched as the scale climbed steadily all the way back up to 41 lbs. I was almost in tears every time I stepped on that offensive scale in the Dr.'s office. I lost 22 after he was born and I have been struggling ever since.

I was caught in the cycle of an abusive relationship. When I left him at last, I lost 30lbs in a month. That would normally have me whooping with joy but that shit was scarily unhealthy. Eventually that depression led into one that had me eating every feeling I had just so I could be numbed out.

So, when I try to get to the bottom of it all, I have a couple of theories as to why I remain overweight.

First, I like to eat. I will never be one of those girls saying, "Oh I can't eat the whole cupcake, will you split it with me?" *shakes head* Girl, is you crazy? lol

Second, I hate to exercise. Like when I say hate, I really mean it. Even when I was at my thinnest and working my damn ass off with Richard Simmons 5 days a week...I always hated it.

Every.Single.Second.

Who are these fucking loons who talk about the "high" they get from working out? Is it possible to not produce endorphins, because I gotta tell ya...I'm not bouncing off the walls with excess energy after a workout. I'm not zooming around feeling all happy and refreshed. I feel like a big, sweaty pig. I come home, get in the shower and collapse from exhaustion. This has always been the case. Am I alone in this? I can't be. I refuse to believe it.

The only time I was ever remotely "happy" (for lack of a better word because I am always borderline homicidal when working out) when exercising, was during walks with Glenda and Janice. Mind you, Glenda's death was discussed many times as she twirled and bounced happily in front of us, but I think the company did wonders for me. I didn't notice the pain...well, except for the Hardwood Hill incident, that is.

Third, I think I may be sabotaging myself for a reason. This is where things get trippy.

Whenever I was feeling good about my body, I have attracted men.

The trouble is, every man I have chosen has crushed me. Two of them have altered who I am forever. Even a short term fling that I decided to have to build up my self esteem in the sex appeal department ended up doing more damage than good in the end. So I think subconsciously I have equated having a good body with complete and utter heartbreak.

I think, maybe...just maybe...that I keep the weight on to keep men away.

How's that for fucked up?!!

I often complain that men don't see me. I am invisible sexually. I mean, it's been three years, pretty much. So clearly, I am not seen as sexually desirable anymore. I guess that means my plan is working, yes?

Ugh.

Maybe this is my way of finding the man who truly loves me unconditionally...even with my body as it is right now.

There is so much more to being overweight than being lazy and having a poor diet. It's the deep down stuff that keeps you there. Some people manage to break free of the shackles of weight but the mental shit is always there under the surface. Until you love yourself now...as is...you will always be fat girl with low self esteem in your head.

My best friend has lost well over 200lbs since her surgery and I could not be prouder. But she still has moments where she looks at me says that she is fat. I could slap her. Especially since her weight loss intimidates the hell out of me. Is it wrong to admit that? I don't know, maybe it is, but it's true. Because I am still comparing myself. Still feeling like a failure. Look at all she has done...it is amazing and I am ridiculously proud of her...but I can't manage to even lose 40 of my own. See? There I go again.

I'm exhausting.

You're bad ass, Charlene. But to me, you were always beautiful....just sayin'.

So, I say to myself. Maybe this is where I am meant to be. Maybe I should stop fighting so hard, stop hating myself for not looking like I think I should. Maybe I should embrace myself as I am, even if that is the dreaded over 200lbs me. Man, I feel shame even writing that number down and I shouldn't.

My friend, Nanda, is right when she says that when I post all the pics of beautiful plus size women that I am only trying to convince myself that it is just as sexy as any other body type. She is right. It is for me. I do believe THEY are sexy and gorgeous...but me? Hmmm...not so much. I have to convince myself every single day that I am more than my weight and that I can be beautiful despite it.

So yeah, I'm a complex mess inside. There are many things keeping me trapped inside this body I have such disdain for. And that someecard poster that mocks that the secret to losing weight is as simple as stopping eating garbage and getting off your ass infuriates me. Obviously it runs deeper than that, and until the mental block is fixed, you (I) will never banish the excess weight forever.

I'm a work in progress. I am trying to overcome the self inflicted obstacles. Writing it all out, purging the demons in my head...it helps. Hopefully it's not becoming like an annoying broken record to you guys...whoever has kept reading, that is. ;-)






Sunday, November 27, 2011

Winter is coming...

It snowed. As in 44cm snowed.


The next morning...

Quality time with the squirrels makes it seem not so bad...

School was cancelled, I had forgotten how much snow days rock. We hibernated for two days till it finally warmed up. Today I ventured to the beach and made a new best friend...he is as tall as me when he jumps on me..and he's still just a pup...

Meet Hoss


and this beautiful hawk who was perched right beside me..
and weird cat tails getting ready for winter...

Back to school tomorrow...not thrilled about that even after 4 days off! haha Come onnnnn, December 16th!

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Brrr

I'm still wearing flip flops. Have I mentioned that?
I go down kicking and screaming, dammit.

It's been inseasonably warm for the most part, but yesterday I woke up to a dusting of snow on the ground.



Sigh.
It was melted by noon, so it hasn't been all bleak so far. There is still warmth, autumn sunsets, and the lovely sound of leaves dancing down the streets.


November hasn't been all bad...and flannel pjs and cozy socks make me happy.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Solitude

Sometimes all a girl needs is a beach to herself...terns, seagulls and the gentle waves. To be able to walk in flip flops on November 13th...is a gift in itself.

Today...I was grateful.






Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Fare thee well, love...

Summer is coming to a close....but I refuse to let go just yet...


leave it to me to find a small patch of wolfsbane...


just look at that blue...


magic after the rain..


the sea was angry that day, my friends, like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli...


lots of us capturing the beauty of hurricane irene..


well hello there..


and there was an outdoor Nazareth concert...


with my bestie, Char...the same concert we went to at 16...


and did I mention my baby turned 13?..


so while I cling to the remnants of summer...I know it's almost over...


*SNIFF*