Tuesday, January 28, 2014
I lost my sister a week ago. She was only 39. She passed in her sleep, and my nephew, who is 12 was the one that found her. I am sick with grief. I am angry. I am lost. I am racked with guilt, not realizing she was as sick as she was. She didn't let me know. She didn't want any of us to worry about her. She was under so much stress. Her husband of almost 17 years left her a few months ago. Her son was having a hard time adjusting. She was getting ready to move into a new place, and she was hopeful. She even bought new bathroom towels etc in pink, her favorite color. Now all her things sit at her house, in bags and weigh down my heart. We went to my parents house on Sunday, looking at so many old pictures of our family from so long ago. It was nice to laugh with them, to see her huge bright smile and to remember how beautiful she was. My sister was sarcastic, witty, funny, warm and yes, human. She stuck up for me so many time I lost count. She was a champion in my corner when I felt like nothing. I never thought there would be a day that she wouldn't be around. Sadly, that day is now here, and I keep searching for answers, yet finding nothing. Out of the three of us, she was the strongest, and I really dread my life without her. I like to think that she is no longer in pain, but that's little comfort right now, and the anger seeps in. I wonder why so many shitty people can still be on this planet, yet the one person I know that was good, that loved her son more than anything is now gone. I am tired of people saying trust in God, that he has a plan or anything religious, because really, what fucking plan does he have? Right now, I am trying to get back to normal, or what is now the new normal. One that does not include me calling or texting my sister about some stupid cooking question, or laundry question or just an I love you.....I miss you sis, I hope you know how much you were loved...love you....me
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
In December, I made a promise to myself; that starting in 2014 I was going to stop talking shit about myself. I lasted one hour. It shocked me to see just how quick I was to put myself down. How easy it was to pick apart my flaws and point them out to others. Confidence can ebb and flow. Unfortunately, mine has been stuck at the bottom of Lake Superior...and that's a deep fucking lake. Sadly my lack of confidence has started to affect everything and everyone, or a lot of people, around me. If I am to be honest, I really can blame myself for quite a bit of it. With my weight doing the yo yo dance, it's my nutrition, and lack of focus. I got lazy. I used to get up at 5:00am, train, then start my day. I stopped that, why? Because obviously my head had better ideas. It became easy to convince myself I would train later in the day, that I could then eat a big meal, get moving and have more energy to go train. Well, truth be told, it gave me more time to sleep in, eat a shitty breakfast, sit on the computer and then go do a half ass training session. Then I complain to my hubby about why I am fat or my training sucks. Really? Here's the fucking mirror, look into it, and you will see the problem. So, when my training and eating are all over the map, it becomes easier to look at myself in the mirror and point out my lack of awesomeness. I find myself comparing my own looks and body to people that aren't living in the real world, or what I deem to be the real world. The fact that I don't have a chef, personal trainer on call, makeup artist, hair guru etc is something I deem as not "real world". So becomes the vicious cycle of putting myself down. I start to question EVERYTHING I do. If I am still good at my job, if my client's think I am fat, if I am starting to look too old...weird shit that shouldn't even be in my head, but yet, there it is..taunting me. Then the real worry seeps in, does my husband still find me attractive? Even with the lights on? Then I get insecure about sex, positioning myself so I look the most appealing, not wanting to engage if I am feeling fat or unattractive that day. It's sad, and at 42, I should be over it, because having these issues rule my world is not fun. I guess all I can do is realize we all have insecurities, some are just easier at hiding them. Maybe I just need to stop dickin the dog, pull on my big girl panties and just make changes.....