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Okay, I was right. Full circle.

Well, maybe half-circle. I’m not completely in the pit of despair, but I have come down. I don’t know what happened. All of the sudden I feel like a huge lard-a## and I don’t want to do anything but sleep.

I’m hoping it is just because I have been ill yesterday and still not feeling well today. Or was I ill because I am depressed. Damn! I hate this. I hate my stomache. I hate my scars. I hate my face. I hate me.

OK. That last one is not totally true. I don’t *hate* me. I just have moments of despising myself and wishing I could be better. Perfect.

I wish I was perfect. I know! Unrealistic. There is know perfect. But somehow that’s what I’m always striving for. Maybe that’s why I’m so miserable. The endless chase of something unattainable.


I am happy. I am in a good place right now. I’m not sure exactly how it happened. I’m not used to feeling okay with myself.

Somewhere in the past few weeks I became comfortable with were I am. Oh sure, there are things I want to change. But basically I am okay with me.

I have been very lazy lately. I guess I am going into the off season, but my training dropped from 13-16 hours a week, to maybe 8. I am working on that one now. I still have a century and a marathon this fall. So I have to pull it together.

I am 10 pounds overweight. My ideal racing weight is 130-132. That is were I feel the best. But this year I was around 136-138 for most of the season and I did all right. Now I am 142, and I am not totally disgusted with myself. That is a huge improvement over this time last year. At the end of last summer I was fighting against 134 and feeling like a blob. I hate feeling like I am the fattest, ugliest woman in the world. It’s all in my head I know. Even when I stand side by side with someone else, I can see that I am not a cow, but I feel like one. It is horrible. And I get so disgusted I can’t even think. I just want to puke until there is nothing left of me.

Anyway, even being the heaviest I have been in  a few years, I still feel okay. I don’t feel totally disgusting!

I’m not saying that I don’t struggle with it still, but I am much more accepting of myself.

So what’s going on? What has brought on this change? Why do I feel so good?

Maybe I shouldn’t question it, but just accept it.

The thing is… I want to know why! I know I will get back down there again (it is the cycle of my life) so I want to know what has brought me out. Or maybe how to prevent the slipping back down.

Usually I am very closed off. Distant. Unemotional. Some people would even call me cold. That is just me. And after reading a recent post from Paul about the stars and such, I think maybe it’s ingrained. Not just me. I have an excuse. I am aquarius. Anyway, lately I have been very unaquarian in this aspect. I have been *very* emotional. I cry at the slightest things. Get worked up over things that don’t matter. And I have not been very good about hiding my emotions.

This is my diagnoses. I met someone. Fell in love. Let him into my soul. Let him see my deepest secrets, thoughts, and feelings. I let him see my emotion. For the first time in my life, I didn’t hide anything. This opened the gates. Tears flowed. I became irrational. I became sensitive. I became emotional.

He tore my heart and soul to pieces when he took his love away. I had no outlet for these emotions that have been welling up. I used to be able to talk to him about everything. Now he isn’t there. I’ve been so caught up in the fact that he was no longer a part of my life that I beleived that I was emotional about him. After some recent contemplation and internal reflection… I have come to the conclusion that my being emotional has to do with my childhood more than my recent past.

Here is the story. I was raised by a single mother. She got married when I was 12. I wanted a father so badly. I was incredibly excited. I couldn’t wait to be a ‘family’. He was an alcoholic. He was physically abusive. He was emotionally abusive. He was sexually abusive. My mother stayed with him. She is still with him. I don’t go home to visit because he is there. I do not have a family because he is a part of it.

Jason gave me a family. I became important, loved, part of something. We weren’t married, but we were well on our way. In my mind we were already there. I lived with him and his son. I acted as wife and mother. We were a family. I became a part of his extended family as well. They gave me a mother and father. A sister. Cousins. Aunts. Family Friends. I was part of a real family. I thought this was my family and I would be there forever.

He gave me that. I’ve wanted it my entire life. I needed it.

And then he tore it away from me. I am alone in the world again. I have friends. But even the best friends are not the same as having a family.

I guess the closest thing I have to a family right now is CLO. My surrogate sister. But she has her own family. Her own life. Sometimes I feel like I am imposing on her family. But I just want to be part of something. I want to have people to share life with. To celebrate with. Even to fight with. And then make up because you still love each other. And that’s what families do. Maybe I just have an unrealistic dream of a family in my head. I know all families are different. But I don’t think my family was ‘a family’.

That is why I am emotional. I caught a brief glimpse of what I have been missing. And it was snatched away before I could fully enjoy it. I am sad. I miss my mother. I miss my brothers. I wish I had a father.

So I went my three days without calling. Actually more. I’m not sure. 5? 6? My ‘prize’ was a cool little table which I spray painted the legs an awesome chrome. So it will match my kitchen cabinets. White and silver. It’s a cool 60’s kind of kitchen with silver counter tops. Kind of reminds me of the Jetsons. 😀

Anyway, it wasn’t that hard to not call him once I decided that I wasn’t going to. Not to mention that I was a little distracted by some new acquaintances I’ve made recently. That helped. I wasn’t just sitting at home. Alone.

Speaking of sitting at home… yesterday was a holiday. One of the first holidays I have had in a long time. I used to have to work every weekend and every holiday, so this was definitely long coming. I am tapering for a race I have this weekend, so I couldn’t just go workout for hours like I usually do whenever I have free time. So… I read.

I’ve been meaning to read ‘Angels and Demons’, the pre-cursor to ‘The Da Vinci Code’, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it. So… I woke up without an alarm (absolutely wonderful) at 6:15. I started wandering around the house and decided that it was just too early for me to be up on a holiday. I went back to bed. I slept until 8ish and decide that was good enough and picked up ‘Angels & Demons’. I continued to read until 4pm! Every time I thought about going for a swim, or a run, I just couldn’t put it down. I got up to fix myself something to eat and the entire time I was whipping up my tuna salad I felt as if I was missing something. Like the story would continue on without me and I would miss some important detail. It was crazy! I’ve never had that happen before. I mean I’ve read books that I had a hard time putting down, but never did I feel like I was missing out when I did. It was the oddest thing.

So anyway, I made it half-way through the 650 or so pages and decided that I had better get something done. I went for a short run and then to the hardware store for some paint and wooden dowels I needed. I spent the rest of the evening chillin’ with CLO, a little bit of vino, a little bit of ‘Freinds’, and quite a bit of appletinis. 🙂

It was a great day.

I am getting used to being single. And enjoying it. The fact that I can sit around and do nothing and then just decide when I am going out and where,without consulting or even a thought to anyone else. It’s great! I had forgotten what that felt like. That freedom. To do and be as I please.

A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, “Who would like this $20 bill?” Hands started going up. He said, “I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this. He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill. He then asked, “Who still wants it?” Still the hands were up in the air. Well, he replied, “What if I do this?” And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. “Now, who still wants it?” Still the hands went into the air. My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20. Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who DO LOVE you. The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but by WHO WE ARE. You are special- Don’t EVER forget it.”

(From: trompetaz Thanks!)

Sometimes I wish that I had the courage to just not care. It is my fear that causes me to behave the way I do. Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear of being alone. Fear of being unloved. Fear of being less than perfect. Deep down I know that all of my fear is ridiculous and unnecessary. But when I am in a trying situation, my emotions take over. I react poorly. I don’t think. Or if I do My head is full of negative thoughts such as I must be ugly; I must be fat; I must be slow; I must be inappropriate; I must be… whatever negative thing you want to add there, I’ve thought it. These thoughts,  negative self-talk, cause me to do the most stupid things. Things that have no place in a healthy life. A person with good coping skills would not behave the way I do. Why am I this way? Where did I fall off track and miss that lesson? That very crucial learning period where we become who we are going to be? I’m not really sure who I am I guess. I know who I used to be and who I want to be. But right now… I am stuck.

Why can I stop the negative thoughts from taking over when I am racing and I can put aside all my fears and just be an athlete? Why can’t I do that in life?

When I was younger I was a gymnast. I would practice 3-4 hours a day. And in the fall we had meets almost every weekend from September to December. The Gym was my refuge, my escape. When I walked into that building everything disappeared. I had no family except my coaches and my teammates. I had no fears except the balance beam. I had no issues except how could I become more graceful. All of those things I could face. Easily. I was home there. The day I quit, was the worst day of my life. I remember sobbing so hard. My brother came into my room and was scared because he had no idea what was wrong with me. I didn’t really know either. I mean I knew I was sad. Gymnastics was a way of life for me. But at the time, I didn’t understand what it really was. It was an escape, a crutch, a way out of my reality. I had turned my bedroom into a gymnastics shrine. Mary Lou Retton covered my walls, along with Nadia, Missy, Olga, Kristy, and many more. I had ribbons and medals and plaques displayed showing myself, the world, that I had done something. I was good at something. I was special. When the yelling and screaming and crashing was happening in the other parts of the house, I would go there and cry. When he gave me those looks and displayed himself to me, I would go there and cry. He would try to get in and I would pull the shades closed and lock the doors and push my dresser in front of the door. That made him mad. So he just go violent. But at least he wouldn’t touch me in that way that makes me sick still to this day. My mother put up with so much abuse. I don’t know why she was so weak. Why didn’t she leave. Take us somewhere and never come back. I would have gone anywhere. I ran away once. I was gone for about 8 hours. No one noticed. I decided to come back because I couldn’t go to the gym if I was on the street somewhere. I needed the gym. I’m still not sure if that was the best decision. But I guess I would probably be dead or a crack whore or something if I had left.

I have been so angry for the past week. This morning I got up, went to the bathroom and just stood in front of the mirror. Such saddness. I realized, I am no longer angry. The anger is just debilitating. It makes me say and do things I shouldn’t and wouldn’t in a sane state. It is pointless, a waste of time. The anger has been replace by such sadness. I can’t even describe the depth of it. I feel like I am walking through a cloud. A grey one. Dark grey with a heaviness that just weighs on me. Every step is a challenge. I feel like I gained 100 pounds overnight. I can’t move. Everything is slow and deliberate. I feel old. And so tired.