Life


Relationships are hard. Period. For some people they are harder in the beginning, and for some it’s harder as the years go by.

It doesn’t matter when it happens to you, you know it’s happening and if you’re like me, you just don’t understand why it does.

Once you get over the initial magnetic and highly physical stage of your relationship, reality creeps in. It’s not just our men. I’m pretty sure we are not perfect either.

I don’t know if this happens to people who are platonic friends at first, and then end up having an intimate relationship. I tend to think those relationships fare better than others. Nonetheless, bottom line is – it’s hard to keep the excitement going. It’s hard to always be happy. It’s hard to always keep your spouse interested.

I personally am in my second marriage. My husband and I have 4 children, 2 of them from my previous marriage and 1 from his. So – that is just another component to throw into the mix, making the odds of hard work even higher.

But I am a firm believer in commitment. I personally KNOW I have to put some effort into my marriage on a daily basis or else things will start to fall apart.

I know every situation is different but I think we all want the same thing. I know I want my husband to tell me “thank you” when I do something nice for him. I want him to notice if I have lipstick on or did something different to my hair. I want him to look at me like I’m still the prettiest girl he knows.

And I’m pretty sure he still wants me to reach out to him with affection, to smile at him when he is looking at me, to welcome his touch when he reaches out to me.

So why does it become difficult over time? Because even though we want these simple things from our relationship, something weird happens and we want the other person to do something first.

I’m interested to hear what other women are thinking. It doesn’t really matter if you are married or in a long term relationship…what has been your experience so far?

My husband and I are so busy with school, our children, me working way too much…that we have completely put our relationship on the backburner and both of us are missing each other – very much.

Sometimes it’s hard to keep ’starting over’ in your relationship. It’s typically the same conversation, the same fight, with little resolve. I can’t say I have any answers, only that I am committed to my relationship and believe in my heart that it’s a rough ride right now and somehow it will work out.

I always feel that things will improve if you just believe in your heart that it will. It’s important to say it out loud, like declare it, and act as if you’re already there, and it will become so.

Sounds so much easier than it truly is. But I will try it – every day.

I don’t think I have that many followers of this blog anymore. I have almost completely abandoned it because life happened.

It is a Tuesday afternoon and I am surprised I even remember my password to access my Dashboard! Ha!

Still teaching yoga, still preparing for figure shows and still a very busy mom and wife.

Life is full of working and not enough sleep but husband and I still hang on! We are doing very well with opposite schedules and very little personal time to focus on just us…

But I cannot complain.

It’s been a while since I have posted. So much has been going on in my life I don’t even know where to start.

It’s been raining every day, so much that my mood is effected. My emotions have been mixed in the past couple weeks, I don’t know if what I write today will make much sense to anyone. I feel I haven’t been making much sense at all.

Work has been steadily busy, a plus in my book right now because at least I can stay focused when my personal life seems to be full of drama.

I try not to talk too intimately about my personal life, but isn’t that the point of having this online journal? I’m sure I don’t know most of my readers anyway. I wonder if any of them feel like they really know me, if they feel like they can relate to my ramble of unclear thoughts and melodrama.

Today it doesn’t matter. I’m writing to get things off my chest.

I’m feeling sad and gray, matching the sad North West weather that I live in.

My ex husband got into some ‘legal trouble’. He’ll be incarcerated soon. I’m not sure exactly, maybe in about a month or so. I don’t even know where he’s going, only that his sentence is for 2 years.

The best thing that happened in our time together was having our 2 children. They are 11 and 7 years old, my first two children I have, and there is something so very special about each of them.

For some reason he wants me to stick to our current parenting plan, or court order where we have joint custody. This would mean dropping them off at their stepmother’s house while he is in prison. Since we have joint custody, that’s fifty percent of the time, each week, each month, each year.

We’ve battled about the kids before in the past, but nothing nasty or malicous. Feelings have been hurt and there is a level of mistrust but I can say that I know my kids adore their father, and I know he loves them very much.

But I can’t help but wonder why would he think this is a good idea? We live 27 miles away from each other. He proposes they attend a school in his neighborhood, when naturally I plan for them to attend a school in our neighborhood since the courts would assign me temporary full custody until he is released.

So many thoughts go through my head:

Does he really think that’s good for the kids?

I am their mother, they SHOULD be with me.

How will the kids adjust to not seeing their father over time?

Will they rebel, will they be depressed?

I know in my heart I AM THEIR BEST INTEREST.

It hurts to even hear him suggest I drop them off with their stepmom. Granted she is a good woman, and I know there is affinity in their relationship, but will they cry freely with her when the ache of missing their father becomes too much? Will they be able to say in their own words how they feel and share that with her? Will she hold them the way I do and let them fall asleep in her arms if they ask? Would they ask?

Am I not the best person to nurse the wounds of their aching hearts?

It is DRAMA – I know – see what this weather has done to me.

I am supposed to meet him and his wife on Saturday after I drop off the kids. My husband will be with me. But really, this is a discussion about my ex and me, and our kids. Our current spouses are there for support, as flies on the wall that take notes about any exchange that may be misconstrued if it gets ugly.

But I can’t help but wonder, “Why do you bother to ask? Don’t you think I am what’s best for them? Don’t you know you already have 3 kids under 2 years old that your wife needs to attend to? What kind of mother do you think I am?”

I know we’ve changed so much over the years we have been divorced. I am certainly happy that I am not married to the man who committed wire fraud and now has changed the entire course of his future. I am glad I don’t have to question where he was or is coming from. I stopped knowing him months before we even divorced.

But my children I know well – like my own hands, like the lines around my eyes that are apparent now, over months of worrying about how they will handle all this change.

I look at my eyes in the mirror every morning when I wake up, and I wonder if people can see the sadness that I can’t seem to push down anymore. I’ve been able to hide it for a long time because I happen to be a fairly good actress – but this is an affair of the heart – the kind that pulls at my most delicate heart strings.

I picked up my 11 year old daughter from school yesterday. I was so happy to have 30 minutes alone with her during our commute home. It would mean truly focusing on just her, on whatever she wanted to tell me that day, or not. She didn’t have to talk, I just enjoy being with her.

I asked her how her past couple days were since she was at her dad’s house. She told me it has been fine. She said that she didn’t really know how to feel after her dad and stepmom explained that he would be going to jail for a while. In her own words she said, “Mom, I don’t think I drank enough water that day, because I didn’t cry.”

All I could do was tell her that she was strong, and that she handled the news well. She said her brother didn’t really want to talk about it, that he chose to be distracted by other things. That’s how my son is. He isn’t READY to deal with it. He’s only 7. My heart felt a tug when she told me he had no words to share after the news. She simply said, “He’ll talk to you mom. He is closer to you.”

We went to the grocery store to pick up a couple things before going home. At the last minute I decided to buy some white wine. I decided that I wanted to numb some of the dull ache in my chest that I have been feeling for weeks.

It was ‘Breakfast for Dinner” last night and all the kids (I have 4) were delighted to have French Toast for dinner. My husband was cheery and almost done with cooking when we walked through the door.

I sat with the family, poured myself some wine, and stared outside at the pouring rain falling hard onto our deck. I kept thinking, “that’s how I feel inside, heavy and stormy, completely unresolved of my emotions, unending…no warmth or shine in near sight.”

It was so obvious my husband could see and he asked me several times if I was okay.

I just didn’t want to talk about it. I haven’t wanted to talk about it for weeks.

But today I find the words to explain my sadness, and for some reason I feel comfort in being able to type at my keyboard, without editing, or ‘trying to make it better’.

I just want to be human and not hide behind the obvious melancholy state – that I hold in my face, in the way that I walk, in the way that I look at people…

I wish the rain would stop and the clouds would move aside for just a little bit, then maybe I would feel like I can get out of this state. This state of “Why me?”

I don’t like feeling sorry for myself, but honestly, I am sad for me.

This is how I feel today, and tomorrow I pray, it will be different.

Last weekend my 11 year old asked me what it was like to give birth to her. She was my first born and frankly, I remember each birthing experience like it happened yesterday.

I thought I’d share as one day, she’ll read my blog and feel special that I had shared with everyone who visits my blog.

First of all, my pregnancy was pretty uneventful.

I weighed probably 89 or 90 pounds at the time I found out I was pregnant. I was 27 years old.

I gained probably 10 pounds in my first trimester and I remember wondering if this was okay because I read that most women only gain a few pounds (if any) in the first 12 weeks.

It seemed to even itself out though because in my second trimester I only gained about 4 pounds.

By the time I got to last my appointment before I delivered Michal, I had gained 27 pounds. Just the right amount for my size (I’m only 5 feet tall).

She was due on December 12th 1997.

My husband (now ex) and I went to watch a movie on November 28th. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving. I can’t even remember what movie it was. When we arrived home I felt some Braxton Hicks contractions (known as practice contractions for the real thing but nothing to be alarmed about).

I drank about 4 ounces of grape juice and went to bed.

I woke up at about 4:50 in the morning – I remember looking at the clock on the wall in our bedroom. I felt like I wet the bed. So I went into the bathroom and found “bloody show” in my underwear. Definite sign that I was in labor.

I said to PJ, “Uh, I think my water just broke”. He got out of bed and asked, “Are you having contractions?” I said, “No, but they’ll probably start soon”. He jumps into the shower and I’m thinking, .’Hmmm, this baby is coming early. Good thing the bag is packed. We better put the carseat in the car.’

Then it hit me. A REAL contraction. ‘Good Lord almighty, that’s the real thing’. I had to brace the couch as I could barely breathe. I could feel this huge wave of tightness throughout the lower part of my body. I could barely keep myself up on my legs. It was so intense. Then it was gone. I think it lasted like 20 seconds.

Since PJ and I had attended birthing classes, we assumed for our first time going into labor and delivery, that we’d be hanging out at home for a while. He gets out of the shower and asks me, “How far are your contractions?” I answer, “Uh, like a few minutes apart.” He says, “Should we call the doctor already?” I say, “I don’t know. It’s only been about 25 minutes since I woke up”.

Each contraction is still only 3-4 minutes apart but they are so intense I can barely breathe. I have to hold onto something or lean up against a wall because I feel like my legs are going to give out from underneath me.

I change into some sweats, deciding I don’t want to take a shower and accidentally slip. I call the doctor and get a hold of an on call person since my original doctor was in New Mexico. They suggest I go to the hospital since my contractions felt so strong.

We left the house at about 5:30 in the morning.

We lived about 25 minutes from the hospital. PJ is so nervous he could barely keep my timing right for the contractions. They felt like they were about 2 minutes apart and I say, “This is happening so fast. Why is the baby early?!”

We pull into the hospital parking garage and start walking towards the emergency entrance since it was barely 6:00 in the morning. About 20 feet from the doorway I find myself in a serious contraction, again, barely able to breathe through it. I have no where to hold my body up against, so I ended up taking a semi squat position (yogis and yoginis – think Utkatasana – chair pose).

I yell, “PJ – I feel like there’s a head coming out”. I swear my underwear feels wet, like more amniotic fluid keeps coming out at each contraction. Between each contraction, I’m hauling ass to get my body to the check in counter.

I’m in another contraction and have to wait before I can talk. I explain to the ladies at the desk that I had preregistered. I gave them my name and they told me they will get a wheelchair for me. I have to hold myself up against the counter to get yet another contraction over with.

When the wheelchair arrives, I’m thinking, ‘Are you kidding me? It feels like the head is coming out and you want me to sit down?’

I literally keep my butt off the seat by lockingout my arms and push off the handlebars.

They’re booking it to the maternity wing and I can’t believe how fast these contractions are coming. I tell the nurse, “My contractions are back to back, I feel like this baby is coming out”. She says “I can tell. Let’s get you in Triage and see how you look.”

Once we get in the Triage room I hastily get into a hospital gown thinking, ‘This baby’s head is about to fall out. I just want to push.’

The nurse examines my cervix and announces, “‘You are fully dilated! This baby is ready to go, are you ready?” I say, “Yes, let’s go. Where’s my husband?”

PJ is in a state of shock. He can’t believe we’re ready to deliver already. Everything happened so fast. They wheeled me into a room, where a few people were ready for me. One nurse is at my side, trying to coach me. PJ totally just stands by, not even knowing what to do at this point.

I am trying to breathe as the nurse and doctor tell me not to push yet. I’m like, ‘You’re kidding right? I’m pushing whether you want me to or not.’

So I am ready to go – I’ve got a couple nurses pushing down on my knees (as I have assumed the position). I push. OMG – it hurts like nothing I have ever felt before in my life.

I push again. The head is right there! And hell yeah – I am feeling it! Ever heard of the rim of fire? Yes, that’s exactly what it feels like – full in effect (as my best friend Glody would say) – the burning sensation is out of this world.

I’m pushing and they’re telling me to take it easy. Someone in the room announces the baby’s heart rate is going down. The nurse on my right side says to me, “Honey, let’s get this baby out.” I push. They say take a breath. ‘I don’t want to. I want to push.’ So I push, and the head is out.

The doctor says, “One more push, and the shoulders will come out.” I push again, and she’s out all the way.

My daughter Michal, my first born was born at 6:20am on November 29th, 1997.

They placed her on my chest as they started to clean her up.

Meanwhile, the doctor tells me to push again. I’m thinking, ‘Are you f***ng kidding me? She’s out, what the hell do you want from me now?‘ Ah yes, the placenta needed to be delivered. Got that over with.

The labor and delivery happened so fast that I had to get stitches. That part was terrible. Then I discovered witch hazel worked wonders.

They let me nurse Michal right away and it amazed me that she ‘knew’ what to do. She latched on to me right away. I loved nursing her.

Later on PJ told me that he felt nauseous. I hated that he saw me in a way that probably plagued him forever.

Since Michal was born 2 weeks early, she was on the small side. She was only 5 pounds 12 ounces and 18 1/2 inches long. She had a full head of hair and a round sweet face. I was so in love with her the moment I saw her.

To sum it up, I loved having a natural childbirth. That’s what I originally planned for, but I never suspected it would have happened as fast as it did.

How lucky was I.

Namaste.

Last Wednesday I got into the gym and did my normal leg routine. After completing that I decided to get my cardio in for a good 30 minutes.

You know those clippy things you put on that’s attached to the treadmill that will stop it if you become disconnected? I never wear those. I never have, and I have been running on treadmills for 20 years.

I was listening to my walkman however (because I am not hip and don’t own an ipod) – and it fell. The last thing I remembered was that I tripped on it and fell face first on the heartrate monitor bar. When I came to there were a number of people gathered around me and one of them said, “it looks like you broke your nose”.

Apparently I fell flat on my face on the treadmill belt and fell right off. Once I woke my nose was bloody and I couldn’t see very well. One of the trainers (Kate) who happened to become a friend of mine came to my side and told me we should call the ambulance.

Of course I start freaking out because all that came to my mind was – “That’s going to cost some money” – so I begged her NOT to call and if there was any way anyone could take me to the hospital.

Kate helped me to the locker room and I caught a first glimpse of myself in the mirror and I really started to panic. My nose was starting to swell and even though there was no broken skin, my nose was bleeding profusely and I am sure it didn’t help that I could feel my blood pressure going up. On top of it all, I was thoroughly embarassed for not only falling on the treadmill, but for passing out! So now my nose is really bleeding badly that I had to tip my head backwards to slow it down. By this time the swelling caused difficulty in breathing, I felt really stuffed up.

Kate (who became my personal assistant that day) helped clean me up, calm me down, and change into a different shirt. I told her I wasn’t particularly attached to the one I was wearing ’so why don’t we just toss that one?’

Once we arrived at the hospital, we went into the emergency room, and there were a number of people there waiting to be seen. We waited a good 45 minutes before being taken back.

By this time, I really looked like someone had kicked my ass and my nose had swollen up to the size of a golf ball. Kate kept telling me to not look at my reflection and try to calm down.

Finally I was taken back and the doctor and nurse exclaimed, “Looks like you may have broken your nose”. I was like, ‘No sh**, gee, I waited 45 minutes for you to tell me this?’

My vitals were normal and my nose had stopped bleeding but I couldn’t breathe through my nose at all. It’s as if it had swelled up so much that there was no room for air to run through my nasal passages. The doctor started feeling around my nose and guessed I broke my nose in more than one place. He told me they had another doctor on shift that could straighten up my nose and send me on my way, ‘as good as new’. I said, ‘Great – send ‘em on in.’

It happened to be a woman who was known for reconstructive surgery. The problem was waiting for a surgery room to get me in that day. The doctor was awesome. She was Russian and had really gentle hands.

To make a long story short, they got me into a room 2 1/2 hours later. I was put under light (not general) anesthesia. I guess she removed some pieces of broken cartiledge and straightened out the parts that were whacked out of alignment. A splint was put on and I came to about 45 minutes after surgery.

The good news is that I got some great pain meds out of the whole ordeal and all those sleepless nights I have been having are no longer.  My splint got taken off after a week (last Wednesday) and my nose is still sore and puffy but I still look like me and I am happy! My eyes are still bruised a bit but I will be looking 100% normal by next week I am sure.

The worst part about this experience is not being able to work out for a while. Something about not letting my blood pressure go up. I don’t plan on getting on the treadmill any time soon but doctors even told me to lay off the weight lifting. That’s the hardest part!

Anyways – on top of all that, it was fun to be home with the kids. I’ve been on a baking frenzy on weekends. Just last Friday night I made Butterhorns. I found a simple recipe on the Food Network site. The only modification I made was to add frosting on top of the cookies. They turned out perfect and the kids love them!

Now that Valentine’s Day is coming up I decided to make cookies and hand made Valentine’s Day cards. Just like we all used to do as kids. I think they’ll get a kick out of that.

Well, that is the highlight of my week from last week. This week I am praying I don’t get cut from my job. Layoffs are scheduled this week and no one knows if they are on the list or not until the day comes. I’m hoping I am safe.

Namaste.

…is that it’s keeping me thin. Just a month ago I was complaining about trying to get rid of the extra weight I gained from holidays and my mass building program. Now I am back in all my slim pants and feeling much more comfortable in my skin again.

I do however want to commit to a figure contest in the late summer or fall. I just have to accept that I don’t feel good weighing 10-13 pounds heavier than I do now. Frankly, it gets expensive and I’m working 2 jobs right now. It’s just not doable.

Anyway, work (day job) has been quite stressful. With the threat of layoffs being imminent, everyone is feeling major anxiety. Supposedly, something is supposed to be happening next week. I might be one of those people so I am praying that God will just take care of me and my family.

Ian and I have been in fear for months. He’s already been laid off, and I don’t know if layoffs will ever stop this year. The way things are looking, we haven’t even seen the worst of it yet.

Good news is that the studio has been busy, and students are letting go of their stress by getting their practice in. We almost always have at least 20 students in class. We started offering a Saturday morning class and it looks like we’ll be adding another one soon.

As tired as I am when I get off work, I drive the 1 hour it takes me to get home. I say hello to the kids, ask them how their day went. I try to whip up a quick dinner if Ian hasn’t already done so, then I change into some yoga clothes, and can eat a quick meal before I have to go to the studio.

Once I get to the studio, there’s usually at least a couple students waiting for me in the parking lot. I always make it in 30 minutes before class starts but most of the students want to claim their spot in the room. Since it’s winter, they all want to soak up some heat. I’m right there with them. As tired as I am working a full day in the office, I am always happy to walk through the studio door and automatically feel the heat. Something about the heat automatically destresses me.

Last night I was able to practice and it felt great. Although my elbow still hurts, I was able to do better than I thought I would. I held my balance, didn’t fidget between poses, let the sweat roll off the tip of the nose without it bothering me, and released into each posture, surrendering to all the emotional ’stuff’ I have been holding onto this week.

Now that it’s Friday, I am very happy! Tired, but just looking forward to a quiet weekend. I might have to log in on the weekend for work, just in case something comes up and I have to catch it before Monday morning rolls around, but I don’t mind. If I am not laid off, of course I am happy and content with where I am at.  I still love the company I work for, regardless of all the change we have gone through in the past year.

I have a craving to hit the pavement though, so I might have to put my running shoes on and get a few miles in…we’ll see. Supposedly it’s going to snow tomorrow.

That’s my week wrap up. Life is always a blessing.

Namaste.

Today is my 4th wedding anniversary! Time has gone by so fast I can’t believe it. Not that 4 years is a long time, but a lot of marriages don’t even last that long these days.

I haven’t even gotten a card for Ian yet, but I will certainly do that before I see him tonight. We are on such a tight budget that we are not buying gifts for each other. I would like to somehow squeeze in a nice dinner somewhere this weekend. Time away from the kids doesn’t happen very often so when it finally does, we really enjoy it.

I have been married before and my previous marriage lasted only 6 1/2 years. For some reason, my time with Ian is going by so much faster. And where I am now is such a different place.

I know what being in love is like, because obviously I have been in love before. In fact, Ian is the third man I have been in love and I am certain he will be the last. The difference is tenfold but what I notice most is this:

Truly being in love with someone surpasses whatever is on the outside. I am no different from others who want to be with someone they are genuinely attracted to. It’s safe to say that almost all people in love want this attraction to last. I don’t know what the average time is for this to last between couples, or for an individual. I just know that I am still extremely attracted to my husband and always look forward to spending time with him alone.

We are the kind of couple that sneaks away when the kids are busy playing together or watching a movie and we just say, ‘We’re going to be upstairs for a little while. We’ll be back.’ It’s not romantic, as sometimes it is very rushed, but much of the passion is there and it always puts us in the best mood for the rest of the day.

Lately, we have been in a financial shift that will make things difficult for a while but he started school this week and he appears happy, excited about the opportunities that will come from getting his degree.

He talked about the classes he’s taking now and he is focused, and goal oriented. It’s been a while since he’s been excited about something he’s doing and that makes me happy. I look at him and all I can think about is how worth it it is for me to bust my ass for a while so that he can reach his goals. I really love this man. I really care about what lights him up, what excites him about life, what really makes him happy.

I can envision our life a few years from now and it looks good, it looks promising and I am totally motivated to stay our course and make it happen.

I don’t think I have been here before for anyone else. I don’t think I have cared this much about someone’s happiness, other than my children. This is a milestone for me. And I am feeling especially joyous about it today!

I have to teach yoga tonight so I won’t even get home until about 8:15. Not much celebrating tonight but it still feels good to be celebrating our 4th year anniversary.

Namaste.

As I am typing I am committed to kicking this sugar addiction like someone with a serious drug habit.

Not only does my stomach react to sugar in the worst way – my self esteem and lack of control disappear. I feel defeated. Let’s add gross too.

My husband tries so hard to look out for me. He asks me, “Are you sure you want to eat that?” – when he knows how many times I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. My stomach writhes in pain. Every time.

But I love the taste of anything sweet. I love the comfort I get from a good slice of cake, or however many cookies I can stuff my mouth with. It’s never worth it.

So I got on the internet and looked up sugar addictions and how to break the habit.

The good news is that it is doable. Totally.

The bad news is that I will pretty much have to do this cold turkey.

Then the good news about that is that I have been able to do it before – with caffeine.

I don’t drink caffeine – I can certainly live without it, and I was able to quit within 2 days.

Then the bad news to that is sugar is my great love!

Goodness, I sound so pathetic.

So one of my great answers is to pray about it! Yes! I am praying about it. I am asking the good Lord to help me control this habit that I have, and to ‘heal’ me of this awful addiction. Do you think it will work?

We’ll see.

I keep talking about taking pictures of myself to track any progress but I hate how each picture turns out. I will try tonight AGAIN to just get it over with – as I know seeing improvement is the best motivator.

I refuse to get on the scale since I have been so weak and eating every sugary crumb in the house. Plus I know the way I have been in the past – getting hooked with the scale says is torture for me. I don’t want to replace one compulsive habit with another! Trying here.

Plus I think about my girls – and they look up to me so much. I love them to pieces and at 11 and 9 years old, they are looking at themselves with the scrutiny I did when I was in middle school. And I was so self conscious in middle school.

It scares me the pressures they feel now at such a young age, how quickly they are growing up and how much they self depreciate under the stupid, snide comments that other kids in their class make. I know that half of what these kids say is normal and supposedly unharming – but those same comments triggered my food issues at a very young age.

I’m trying to be a role model here. Dang it’s hard. How is it at my age I still feel so much pressure? And the worst part is that it is self inflicted. I am the only one who thinks I am such a freak!

Onto something else – I forgot to bring my gym shoes to work today so I was unable to get my cardio in – curses!

I didn’t want to take the yoga class because I knew my elbow would be in pain while doing vinyasa, so I decided to turn up the heat and sit in the sauna. I sat in the sauna for 45 minutes and I was sweaty! Just like hot yoga – I was perfectly comfortable!

My elbow is still killing me and the only thing that seems to comfort it is plenty of ice and massage. As putting my fitness goals on hold is hard enough, I am challenged that I can’t do most of what I have done in the gym in the past.

So I am back to doing cardio and once the holidays are completely over, it will be easy to get back into the regular swing.

I know that doing cardio will bring down my weight fairly quickly, it usually does but I am afraid I will lose muscle as well. Oh well, what am I going to do? At least I don’t have a serious injury. I have to try and look at something positive.

Well – it’s time to close up my post for the day. Looking forward to getting back to a normal schedule and getting back on track.

Namaste.

Even though I would be happy taking another week off of work, I am happy to be returning to the grind tomorrow.

Just when I thought I had my binge eating under control, I have been eating every sweet thing in sight. And I know why – I am stressed over everything right now.

I put on my khakis right now – the one of 2 pairs of pants that fit me and they are so snug on me. I was thoroughly depressed when I put them on.

I was good and had chicken breast and broccoli for lunch, but just 30 minutes later I had some holiday cookies and chocolate. Then I ate doritos. Terrible. My stomach has been hurting for days beause I have been torturing myself by eating this way!

When I look in the mirror I see someone out of control, depressed, and anxious.

Why does the winter effect me so?

I just pray to get a grip on this soon, I feel like I am on the downward spiral.

Constantly worrying about money is not good for me.

I am stressed. I feel depressed and I know it’s all in my head.

I’ve been emotional eating and feeling terrible about everything.

I actually started to cry in Fred Meyer because I didn’t think we had enough money to buy candles, candles!

My husband thinks I am a freak and we are not seeing eye to eye on anything.

Meanwhile – even when my eyes are closed and I think I am sleeping soundly, I wonder how much I can work…I wonder if it’s possible to find a better job so that I can make even just a few hundred dollars extra a month. I wonder how much sleep I need to perform well at work. I wonder if my kids will resent me for working so much.

How long can I do this for?

Will I burn out?

Will I go crazy?

I feel I have no control and that scares me.

Next Page »