unexpected loss

nosy nora says that everyone dies, just not all at once. 

i hummed and hawed over whether or not to write this post, and more importantly, whether or not to publish it. i deal with life by writing about it. and i hope that one person will read this post, connect with it, and in some way feel better. 

while it is true that everyone will some day die, the unexpected death is the hardest. 

it feels like the rug has been pulled out from under you and you are falling endlessly. and you think that the floor has to be there somewhere. and you think that you have landed and then it falls out from under you again. 

my family experienced a loss this weekend. and my heart aches for B who lost a sister. 

it makes me think about all the potential losses. the inevitable losses. it makes me think about the mortality of everyone i love. 

so how do you deal with an unexpected loss? where do you turn? what do you do first? 

an unexpected loss is often accompanied by intense grief. because there was no preparation for the loss. there was nothing leading up to it. 

the first step is to keep up your regular routine. having structure maintains a sense of control. 

try to get enough sleep. 

ease your stress by moving your body. 

don't forget to eat. 

find something comforting - something that feels good. something as simple as a cup of tea by the fireplace, a hot bath, a walk in the park, or a cuddle. 

take things one day at a time. 

one hour at a time. minute by minute. 

and ask for help. you don't have to do everything on your own.  

acknowledge your grief. 

it is real. 

acknowledge your feelings of helplessness, your questions of why, your questions of faith. your feelings are real. they are acceptable. your anger, your hurt, your laughter, your memories. they are all real and valuable. they are feelings. 

grieving can feel very lonely. it can feel like the world is passing by, like everyone is living their lives, like no one else seems to know that your world has just fallen apart. 

but know that you are never alone. people are connected creatures by nature. we all need each other. and when you reach out, there are people there. 

often, people don't know what to say. they want to help but they don't know how. for ideas about what to say and how to help someone who has experienced a loss, read my previous post  http://aprilgigiangels.blogspot.ca/2014/07/death.html

What to say to someone who has lost a loved one

It is common to feel awkward when trying to comfort someone who is grieving. Many people do not know what to say or do. The following are suggestions to use as a guide.

• Acknowledge the situation. Example: "I heard that your_____ died." Use the word "died" That will show that you are more open to talk about how the person really feels.
• Express your concern. Example: "I'm sorry to hear that this happened to you."
• Be genuine in your communication and don't hide your feelings. Example: "I’m not sure what to say, but I want you to know I care."
• Offer your support. Example: "Tell me what I can do for you."
• Ask how he or she feels, and don't assume you know how the bereaved person feels on any given day.

Source: American Cancer Society

i have experienced loss in my life. young loss. unexpected loss. and it took me years to come to a place where i could grieve. the way i was raised, i wasn't supposed to have feelings. i wasn't supposed to fall apart. 

over the last few years, i have learned that it's okay to have feelings. it's even okay to fall apart. and the pieces will be there, ready to be put back together.  

my cousin wrote today, "when sunlight bounces off the face of someone you love, and finds its way into the eye of the lovely beholder, its image stays burned forever." i hope it's okay that i quoted him. 

it struck me. and it stayed with me. the people you love are forever imprinted in your mind and on your heart. burned into your memories. the people you love stay with you, leaving you changed in some way because of their having been there. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

...

life is a jumble of socks

life is like laundry and it's full of missing socks. 

“One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.” 
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

every christmas i get new socks. and they are always warm and fuzzy. like hugs for my feet. life can be full of hugs. or it can be full of missing; missing someone, or something, or some experience. no matter what we do, loss is inevitable just like all the unmatched socks that come out of the drier. 

“When I was young I found out that the big toe always ends up making a hole in a sock.
So I stopped wearing socks.” 
― Albert Einstein

one way to deal with the pressures of life is to stop living. to hide away from the world by not dealing with it. dp says that my feet eat through socks. she accuses my toe nails of ripping through the fabric. i think that's how people approach life - they either rend slowly, making holes, or aggressively rip their way through the fabric of their life. i am a slow hole maker. i often sit back and let life pass me by. i often feel like i am the missing sock. 

“Granny always said finding justice was as tough as putting socks on a rooster.” 
― Jessica Maria Tuccelli, Glow

it feels like justice is lost in this world. so many terrible things are happening and there is nothing i can do to help. the news makes me anxious and sad. all around the world there is violence and loss. not the inevitable loss that comes with the cycle of life, but loss caused by violence. it has reached the point where i can't listen to the news.  

“I experience the same level of intense concentration watching a thrilling tennis match as I do hunched over a heaping pile of warm socks diligently searching for exact matches.” 
― Gregor Collins, The Accidental Caregiver: How I Met, Loved, and Lost Legendary Holocaust Refugee Maria Altmann

the laundry is not my job. i do the cooking and dp takes care of cleaning our clothes. but i do have the job of folding the socks. folding socks is like searching for the meaning of life. there on the table is a jumble of colours, sizes, textures ... and it's my job to sort them out, match them, and fold them. then put them neatly in the drawer, into baskets sorted by colour and type. life is a jumble of experiences and our brain sorts out those experiences through our senses. life is a jumble and we spend it trying to fit everything into baskets, sorted accordingly. and no matter what we do, there is always an unmatched sock. 


be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

...

friendship and support

i was never the kind of person who reached out for support. i was the kind of person who tucked away my troubles and pretended to the world that everything was fine. 

i was too busy taking care of everyone else and didn't have the time or energy to take care of myself. so i let my health go. i let my body go. i pushed all my emotions down inside of me and buried them tightly in the bottom of my heart, so that my heart became filled with hairline fractures. which are harder to mend than a deep single crack. 

but over the past few years i have been seeking support and finding true friendships. and discovered that, as nosy nora says, we all need each other. 

“A fine glass vase goes from treasure to trash, the moment it is broken. Fortunately, something else happens to you and me. Pick up your pieces. Then, help me gather mine.” 
― Vera Nazarian

being able to reach out for support hasn't been easy for me. it made (makes) me feel weak, and needy, and clingy. it makes me feel like i am not strong enough to face up to the world. but i am discovering that people are there to pick up your pieces and help put you back together. no one is humpty dumpty. it doesn't take all the king's horses or all the king's men to mend a broken heart, or to support a friend. (on a side note, do you realize that there is nothing in the humpty dumpty poem that says he is an egg? where did that image come from? i looked it up and wikipedia has several theories but nothing proven. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Humpty_Dumpty) picking up the pieces isn't something that you need to do on your own. the world is full of supportive people who are there to help with the shards of your life. 

“Support and encouragement are found in the most unlikely places.” 
― Raquel Cepeda

what i have discovered through this process is that support can come from places you never expected. an online support group, for example, has been a place for me to share my stories with people who understand. and these strangers offer me strength and guidance in ways i never thought possible. 

my emotional growth through this experience of writing a blog has been tantamount to a miracle. in a million years i never would have thought that his little blog would reach 25,000 page views. that strangers would email me to thank me for my writing. that friends would read my posts and tell me that they connect to my stories. being able to write about my life, my struggles, my heart ache, my successes, my happiness, my sadness, my weaknesses and my strengths ... being able to write about my life gives me strength. it makes me stronger to know that i am putting myself out there. even if it is anonymously published for my own protection - i'm not impervious to pain or embarrassment you know. 

“Friendship is born at that moment when one man says to another: "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . ."” 
― C.S. Lewis

i have also discovered that people have way more in common with each other than we first believe. we live with such shame and secrecy and privacy and the inability to share our stories. and it turns out that there are people in my life who have been on similar paths. and we can connect with each other and support each other in ways that no one else can. 

“You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.” 
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

i learned through this process of wanting to take care of myself, that you have to ask for help. and when you do, you actually get it. 

what what? 

no, really. when you ask someone to help you, they actually do. when you reach out for support you actually get support. ok, not from everyone. some people are selfish assholes and you can't change that. they aren't worth your emotional energy. but most people? most people will give you the support that you need. 

“There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.” 
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone


there are some stories that no one else can understand unless they have lived that truth. and those are the people whose support can surprise you. unless you share your stories, you'll never know that there are people out there who can relate ... who can commiserate ... who truly understand. knocking out a mountain troll doesn't have to be the only way that you make friendships. but sharing your truth is one way to be sure that those friendships are genuine and are built on truth and understanding. 

i am so very lucky to have a fabulous partner who loves me, adores me, and supports me. i am appreciative and grateful for the people in my life who offer me friendship and support.  i am fortunate to have a fantastic therapist with whom i can share my stories and my emotional tornadoes. i would list the people that i have gratitude for ... but i know that i would forget someone. so if you are someone that i have turned to for emotional support, or for a listening ear, or a shoulder to cry on, or advice, or just a helping hand ... i thank you for being there. you know who you are. 

and in closing ...

“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.” 
― Linda Grayson

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo
...

infertility

this week was another hard week. one minute i was heartbroken and devastated and the next i was hopeful and looking forward to potential and possibilities. 

this week i did a lot of thinking about infertility. and let me tell you, they weren't happy thoughts ... 

being infertile makes me feel defective. 

broken. 

one thing that sets women apart from men is the ability to bare children. and i can't. 

and i wont. 

“The English language lacks the words to mourn an absence. For the loss of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child or friend, we have all manner of words and phrases, some helpful some not. Still we are conditioned to say something, even if it is only “I’m sorry for your loss.” But for an absence, for someone who was never there at all, we are wordless to capture that particular emptiness. For those who deeply want children and are denied them, those missing babies hover like silent ephemeral shadows over their lives. Who can describe the feel of a tiny hand that is never held?” 

― Laura Bush 

infertility hurts. i ache. there is no cure for my infertility and there is no cure for this pain. there are no words for the absence of a child. if i had a child and lost it, then people would know. people would understand that i am grieving. 

this week a student asked me, "why don't you have any kids? aren't you going to be lonely for the rest of your life?" 

stab.

right in the heart.  

we tried. for 2 1/2 years. we tried hormones and pills and injections and daily blood tests at 7am, and intrusive ultrasounds every second day and hundreds and hundreds of dollars. and each time we would hope. we would dream. we would be sure that this was the time that would work. and it never was. the test would always come back negative. i can't count how many test strips i peed on. 

“I found that each time a test was negative, it stopped the dreaming and hoping for a while. Taking the test was a way of puncturing the balloons of hope, because if I didn't, they would lift and lift without any evidence, and their falling back down every month was too painful. Essentially, I took all these tests to keep myself from hoping, because the hoping was breaking my heart.” 
― Shauna Niequist

infertility makes me feel like i wasn't supposed to be born a woman. like everything about me is all wrong. like i am broken inside. the cause of my infertility is too many androgens - too many male hormones. and i have male pattern baldness. what the fuck? how is that fair? i am a woman. i am supposed to have female hormones. i am supposed to have hair on the top of my head. i am supposed to ovulate. i am supposed to have regular periods. 

i am supposed to be able to make a baby. 

and i can't. 

since the beginning of human history, all over the world, a woman's worth has been defined by her uterus and it's productivity. i am supposed to have the CHOICE of whether or not i want to have a baby. i don't have that choice. 

and it kills me. 

“I remember thinking about how mothers were prepared to run into burning buildings to save their children's lives. I thought I should be able to go through a bit more suffering, a bit more inconvenience to give my children life. It made me feel noble. But now I realize I'm a crazy woman running into a burning house for children who don't exist.” 
― Liane Moriarty

eventually we had to stop. stop the craziness that was our lives. stop the roller coaster. stop the hoping and the dreaming. stop the heart ache that came with every negative test. 

and every negative test came with guilt about my body and it's inability to do such a simple thing as ovulate and fertilize and keep a child. something that billions of women across the world do every year. and i couldn't. 

guilt. 

i am trying to take my health into my own hands. to fight against this disease that i have. to take strides to take care of myself. i am trying. and it is hard. and no matter what i do, i have to live with this. i have to live with too many male hormones. i have to live with too much insulin. i have to live with hair loss. i have to live with weight gain and difficulty losing weight. i have to live with not being able to handle eating sugar. i have to live with being infertile. 

... needless to say, this was an emotional week. and i can't believe i made it to friday. but here i am, alive and full of possibilities. 

be kind to yourself,

xoxo

...

hard week

i haven't blogged in awhile. i just haven't had anything to say. but this has been a hard couple of weeks and i wanted to write about it to help me process what has been going on. 

first of all, DP and i made a fundamental and monumental mistake and we are in the process of trying to fix it which is terrifying and anxiety causing. 

second, the coordinator of my special education program came into my classroom and basically told me that everything that i am doing is wrong. she was kind and gave me some new ideas. but she also put a great deal of pressure on me to improve the levels of my students (which is my job, i understand that) in a short period of time. she made me feel like i am a terrible teacher and that i have no idea what i am doing. she made me feel like shit to be blunt. and i am left feeling weepy and helpless. 

third, i have started a program called pcos diva jumpstart (www.pcosdiva.com) in which i have been instructed to make many changes to my diet and lifestyle. this all or nothing approach, going cold turkey and diving in to a lifestyle change has been really difficult and i feel like a failure. 

the eating part has been fairly easy. it's not the first time i have eaten this way, so i know what foods to eat and what foods to avoid. i had already cut out caffeine, so i am not having withdrawals. 

in terms of my diet, i am not eating:

• wheat
• gluten
• sugar
• caffeine
• dairy
• red meat

i am also taking a number of supplements. easy peasy. 

the challenge for me is the lifestyle change. i am supposed to get up early each morning and do some sort of exercise. i have yet to manage to get out of bed early enough to do anything except make a smoothie. some mornings i have had to drink the smoothie in the car on the way to work. i am not acting at all like a diva and am not taking care of myself. 

i feel like the world is crushing me. like there is a huge weight pushing me down. like i am walking through molasses, unable to lift my feet. 

i have been doing well with my depression. managing it with medication and therapy. the sadness and constant weepiness is back. but i think that i have legitimate things to feel weepy about. it's hard to tell the difference between a bad day and depression sometimes. and it's scary to think that i could go back to that dark place that i was in last year at this time; off work, cocooned on the couch, crying every day, not wanting to be alive. 

i want more than anything to be able to get out of bed in the mornings and practice healthy living. it isn't that i don't have the motivation - i WANT to do it. but something is keeping me in bed. something is keeping me from succeeding. i think it is my fear of failure. if i don't try, then i can't fail. 

so ... this has been a hard couple of weeks. and i feel like next week will be hard too. 

i feel scared, helpless, and stuck. 

i need encouragement. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

... 

new years eve 2014

new years eve ... a time for reflection on the year that is ending before a new one begins. a time to ponder the events of the year that has passed and to make plans for the coming year. 

i don't make resolutions. they are too easy to break and let yourself down. but i do reflect on the past and the future. i do dream of things to come. 

2014 was a very difficult year for me. if you read through my blog posts from this last year, you can see how much i have changed. 

last year at this time i was barely holding myself together. i was emailing nosy nora (my therapist) pretty much daily just to keep connected to someone who knew that i was falling apart. in january i ended up taking a leave of absence from work. i was off for 6 weeks and spent that time curled up on the couch wrapped in a blanket. unable to do much of anything else. 

when i went back to work, it was only half time. that's all i could manage. 

i cried all the time. i felt like the world was crashing down around me and that i was being crushed underneath it. 

the fall of 2014 brought more sadness and hard times. i was dragging myself into work every day, but barely functioning. i was doing the bare minimum and luckily had GT to pick up the loose ends and keep things running smoothly. thank goodness for GT. 

every day at work i get a 40 minute prep time, where i plan my lessons, photocopy, mark work, etc. but i was using those 40 minutes to curl up in a ball on a dog bed that i had stashed under my desk. when i think of it now, it feels crazy. totally and completely crazy. but at the time it was what i needed to do just to function. i needed to curl up in a ball and close my eyes for those 40 minutes. 

then at lunch time i would eat quickly and head back to my dog bed under my desk for a 15 minute curl up. 

i have come a long way. not only am i now using my prep time to actually prepare things, i have moved the dog bed out from under my desk and i no longer feel the need to curl up in a ball. 

i will admit that part of the change has to do with a change in medications that has really helped me cope with the world. but part of it are the huge changes that i have made over the last year. 

see the following blog posts to read about the changes that i have made. 

http://aprilgigiangels.blogspot.ca/2014/11/changes.html

http://aprilgigiangels.blogspot.ca/2014/11/beads.html

i can honestly say that i feel happiness. i am sitting my couch, listening to christmas music by the tree and thinking about the good things that are to come. 2015 is a mystery. full of potential and adventure. and it will be what we make it. 

i can't talk about new years eve without talking about gigi. 19 years ago today was the last time that i spoke to her. she was trying to convince me to go to a party with her, but i had chosen to babysit. i was miserable that night. grumpy. out of sorts. 

and gigi died at that party. i always wonder how my life would have been different had i been there. for years i believed that i could have changed the outcome. could have noticed earlier. could have called 911 faster. could have saved her. 

i know now that i couldn't. i know now that she came into my life to give me the gift of true friendship. to teach me that i could be loved for who i am, not for who people tried to make me be. and that is a gift i have carried with me all these years. 

i wish you all the best in 2015. i wish you happiness, magic, and adventure. i wish you true friendship and that you can believe that you deserve to be love for who you are. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

unexpected

things don't always go as planned. 

i am a planner. i think things through. i am prepared. i am organized. 

yesterday i was supposed to see a movie and instead ended up with a flat tire. 

today i imagined (worried and stressed about) that i planned to spend the entire day waiting for my tire to get fixed and the mechanic ended up fixing it within an hour. 

nosy nora suggested that i spend my time worrying about things in place of other things. as in, i worry about my car getting a flat tire instead of worrying about important and reasonable things. instead of admitting to myself what i am actually worrying about. i fill my brain with worries that are slightly ridiculous, or at least unimportant. 

today, for example, while talking to nosy nora i was completely distracted thinking about where i parked my car. why? because i had to go in a different entrance and parked in a different spot and was completely convinced that i wasn't going to be able to find my way back and if and when i did find my way back to the car i wasn't going to be able to find my way out of the parking lot. so as we were talking, i kept picturing myself driving around the underground garage in circles for an hour trying to find the exit. 

dude. there are signs that say "exit" and have arrows. and the lot isn't that big. 

but i was totally distracted and my heart was racing. 

so back to my flat tire. i lost it and had a total and complete meltdown over the tire. it was ridiculous. i couldn't stop crying. over a tire. nosy nora says, "it's just a car." and intellectually i know that. but one of my biggest anxieties is about something happening to my car. so getting a flat tire did me in. i just stood there on the side of the road crying and couldn't stop.

it was so embarrassing. 

so the question becomes, what was i really crying about? was it my car? was it my tire? or was that just the tipping point in my stressful life? 

what does my anxiety cover up? what space does it replace in my brain. 

in case you're wondering, my uncle came and changed my tire to the spare. my aunt made me sugary tea and gave me a long hug. we drove home on the highway very slowly and then i took the car in this morning to the mechanic. the rim was bent and apparently that makes the tire leak. totally don't get it. but i don't need to. that's what mechanics and uncles are for. 

another major anxiety of mine is the dentist. i'm terrified that i will go to the dentist, and s/he will clean my teeth and my front tooth will fall out. 

crazy. 

i know i'm crazy. 

i think about it all the time. i am completely convinced that my front tooth is going to fall out. which if i don't get myself to a dentist could actually happen. but i'm too scared to go to the dentist. 

PP says that if my tooth falls out at the dentist i would have all sorts of blog stories to tell ... 

... 

things don't always go the way you expect them to. you can't plan for everything. you can't always be prepared. 

my car has a spare tire, jack, and wrench. i worry about flat tires all the time. i was completely prepared to have a flat and had a way to deal with it. i also have CAA (that's like AAA if you're reading this from the states. it's a car service if you're reading this from another country). but i wasn't emotionally prepared for the flat tire. it was completely unexpected. 

if we spend our time preparing for the worst, we won't be able to enjoy our lives. you can't plan life. life unfolds. you can't control anything that happens to you or what other people do, think, or feel. the only thing you can control is your reaction to the unexpected. or in my case, the reaction to the reaction. 

i need to forgive myself for sobbing about a flat tire. i need to forgive myself for needing my uncle to fix the problem instead of dealing with it myself. and i need to forgive myself for struggling to face the unexpected. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

...

Saturday morning

It's early Saturday morning and I'm sitting in Starbucks with my love, waiting for the mechanic to put on snow tires. I couldn't sleep last night. Probably worrying about the process of putting on snow tires,  dumb I know. I can't help my worries. I worry about everything. Even on this mild Saturday morning with the snow melting. 

Saturdays used to be my favourite day of the week when I was a kid. I would wake up early and watch tv. That show where they dumped green goop on peoples heads. Anyway. My mom would call me for ballet class and we would head out along the danforth.  I loved ballet class. Even though I was a terrible dancer. My mom never let me forget that I wasn't very good. But I danced with all my heart, which made up for my lack of grace and beauty. 

After ballet we would go to a greasy spoon and order vanilla cokes and vanilla danish. My mom would order fries with gravy which I thought was disgusting but I've since grown to love. 

As I grew older and my inability to dance resulted in no more ballet lessons, Saturday morning became grocery shopping day.  I would go with my mom early in the morning to loblaws. After shopping we would either go to the zellers restaurant or to mcdonalds. We would share a meal. And at zellers we would have to hide behind a post so no one saw us, my mom is a bit of a snob ... Ok, not just a bit of a snob. After our brunch we would go to the library where I would sneakily borrow slightly veiled lesbian themed books. 

I loved those Saturday mornings. These days I sleep through them. But not today. 

Today I am enjoying the early morning as I write at Starbucks sipping an earl grey tea. 

I should mention that despite my lack of coordination and grace, after I left ballet I took jazz and tap and musical theatre dance classes until I was 19. I loved the feeling of moving my body, even knowing that I had no talent. I loved to dance. 

I still love to watch dance. My best friend Gigi was a dancer, a good one. A beautiful dancer. I just lack the talent in that area.  

I'm sure you are thinking that I am being hard on myself. But I assure you I am not. Have you ever seen the Alistor sims version of a Christmas carol? Well at the end he dances the polka. Badly. My mom once told me I polka like him with my legs flailing around. And one year my ballet teacher held me back and I had to dance a second year with the level fours while all my friends moved on to level five. And she held me back from doing the exams. That was embarrassing. I think that was my last year of ballet.  At least dancing it, not watching it. 

But back to Saturdays ... 

... It's nice to be up and about instead of lying in bed pretending to be asleep. Or trying to sleep. Or drifting in an out of sleep. 

After I gave up ballet, I started taking piano lessons on Saturdays after errands. That was yet another endeavour that I didn't fully commit to. I rarely practiced and when I did I wasn't focused. So I never got to be any good. My life is full of half-assed attempts. Flute, violin, drums, piano. I gave up on all of them. 

Recently, on a Saturday, I had coffee with my piano teacher, whom I hadn't seen in twenty-three years. It was actually really nice to get to know her as a person instead of as my crazy piano teacher. 

I first saw the ballet when I was three. It was the nutcracker. And I fell in love with dance and with the story and with the character Clara, I wanted to be Clara and I wanted to be a dancer. That Christmas all I wanted was to be able to dance around the tree like Clara did in the ballet. 

My dad is many things.  He and I don't get along. He pushes my buttons and drives me absolutely insane. He is stingy and grumpy and full of advice. But he also is very proud of me and when I was growing up he would do anything for me. Now it's a chore if I ask for help. But that Christmas he wanted to make my dream come true ... So ... He nailed nails in the walls and the floor and used fishing line to tie the tree in place so that I could dance around it like Clara. I don't remember dancing, but I remember the tree. And I remember the trouble he went to in order to make that happen for me. 

I want to be that for my children. I want to do all that I can to make their dreams come true. Even if that means putting holes in the floor just so that they can dance around the tree. 

I saw the nutcracker a few years ago and they have changed it up. Modernized it. And there was no dancing around the tree. I was very disappointed. 

... Funny ... It's Saturday morning and my mom is texting me from her errands asking me if I need anything. I guess some things change and some things stay the same. 

I hope you have (or had) a glorious Saturday morning. 

Be kind to yourself, 

Xoxo

...

holiday food survival guide

as the holidays approach and parties are thrown, many of us start to worry about all the extra calories we will ingest. 

so i'm here to tell you how to manage your way through holiday foods. 

it all boils down to one word: eat. 

yep, you heard me. eat. once a year, we indulge in our favourite foods. comfort foods, sweet foods, festive foods, traditional foods, yearly foods. for me it's turkey and mashed potatoes and "magic squares" which consist of graham cracker crumbs, coconut, condensed milk, and chocolate chips. 

eat them. 

what the hell is going to happen to you if you eat and enjoy? you might gain a few pounds. it could happen. 

the problem with holiday foods and party foods is that we deny ourselves these foods and then we over do it. the fact is. you can make yourself a turkey whenever you want. you can cook mashed potatoes whenever you want. you don't need to eat the entire pot of mashed potatoes at christmas dinner. there is an abundance of delicious foods in the world and you can make them for yourself whenever you want to. 

so how do you survive the indulgent holiday season? 

you don't survive it. 

you enjoy it. 

you eat. 

eat what you want. eat what tastes good. eat until you feel satisfied and then stop eating. and then eat again when you are hungry again. and enjoy the delicious, the familiar, the comforting, the holiday favourites. 

i know too many people who don't eat at parties. or who stick the the veggie trays. i know too many people who bring diet treats with them to parties and eat their own treats. 

seriously? eat a damn cookie and get over it. you aren't going to gain 20 lbs over a few weeks of parties and special dinners. 

so to sum it up ... over the holidays you can survive the parties and the indulgent foods by eating. 

eat. 

trust me. 

be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

...

a weighty topic revised

a weighty topic

i want to write about being fat. 

i want to write about how my weight has always been the business of my family, my doctors, and strangers. 

this is a photo of me at age 7. i thought that i was enormously and hideously fat. my food intake was commented on; monitored .... i believed that my stomach was huge. that my thighs were huge. i believed there was no way anyone could every love me. 

i was embarrassed about how fat i was ....

... look again at that photo. look how thin i was! look at my flat stomach. my small thighs.  and i was convinced, by the people around me, that i was fat and ugly and worthless and undeserving.i was convinced that i was fat and ginormous. 

and these feelings became a self-fulfilling prophesy. 

and now, 30 years later, my body continues to be everyone else's business. 

no matter what doctor i go to see. no matter what medical concern i have. the answer i am given is always to "lose weight" as if i haven't tried. 

i have been offered bribes by people who claim to love me, or who are supposed to love me, that if i lose weight they will buy me things. 

radical t said: " I don't think people get that no matter what we [women with PCOS] go to the doctor for, certain doctors will always bring up the weight. it is the last taboo..."

doctors believe the myths about fat people too. 

i want to write about the comments that strangers make. about men bumping into me and telling me "move it fat bitch" or just randomly making comments. yelling "fat ass" at me. i want to write about the time i went into a restaurant and heard some teenagers say "she better only order salad."

i want to write about how i can't eat junk food in front of other people. 

i want to write about the shame i feel when i shop with someone who can go into any store and try on clothes and i can't. i want to write about how embarrassing it is when someone says, "that would look good on you, go try it on!" and i know that it is 4 sizes too small and that it's the biggest size in the store. 

i want to write about trying to squeeze into booths in restaurants. i want to write about the discomfort on an airplane. 

but there are no words for these thoughts and feelings. and i can't write about them. they are self-loathing feelings. they are self-hating thoughts. they are words thrown at myself from all sides. thoughts: fat. ugly. lazy. stupid. being fat means you suck. being fat means you have no willpower. being fat means you sit and eat junk food all day. being fat means that you eat macdonalds every day. being fat means you are lazy. 

WIDELY HELD AND ACCEPTED BELIEFS ABOUT FAT PEOPLE:

• fat people have no willpower
• fat people are sad
• fat people have low self-esteem
• fat people are unhealthy and are going to die young
• fat people eat uncontrollably
• fat people don't know why they are fat
• if fat people really wanted to lose weight they could
• fat people are lonely
• fat people are ugly
• fat people can't find love

the truth is that being fat is an outward expression of my inside wounds. each pound, a story of pain. if i were to keep a food journal and publish it, thin readers would be shocked at what i eat. i LOOK like i eat fried food all day long followed by chips, chocolate, and doughnuts. 

but that isn't what a typical day of food looks like for me. 

i start with a cup of tea. my stomach gurgles and rumbles and wants food. but i punish myself for being fat and i refuse to eat. i like the feeling of control that i have by deciding what goes into me. eventually i give in and i will eat either yogurt and fruit, or toast with peanut butter. then the morning turns to noon and i start to think about the fact that i have to eat some sort of food for lunch. and i practice that messed up control of not eating as my stomach calls out for food. noon becomes 2pm and i start to feel a bit weak and dizzy so i give in and eat something. maybe soup, or salad, or more toast. sometimes i don't give in and i make more tea instead. dinner time comes along and i don't really feel hungry, but SC is hungry so i cook something. maybe chicken and vegetables. maybe some rice. (brown rice for me). at some point in the evening, my stomach begins to yell at me for not feeding it throughout the day. so i have a banana or i cut up and apple. 

once in awhile i will allow myself to have a couple of chocolate mini-eggs. i used to eat the entire bag at once. but since i have given myself permission to eat them, i only need to have 2 or 3 of them because i know i can go back for more another day if i want to. 


Zed read this post for me. i was curious about her thoughts. she said: 

you've hit the nail on the head with how you feel about food and fat. so many people feel the way you do, believe me - WE ALL DO! the self loathing and hatred is a very difficult thing to get over. when I'm out and about, doing errands, shopping whatever - i feel invisible. people can't see me. or they choose not too. most of the times i don't mind, as i have a hard time dealing with strangers as it is. but then i wonder - am i invisible? can people see right thru me? or do they choose not to look at me because looking at me makes them feel disgusted and they feel more worthy than me. am i really less of a person because i am MORE of a person? hard things to deal with. but i try. i make myself go out and be in the world because i matter, no matter what my size is. i dress a certain way because it makes me feel good and attractive and better about myself. and FUCK what everyone else thinks!! i refuse to hide from the world because i don't look like what 'they' or 'society' says i should look like! that's my thoughts on this very contentious issue!

being fat isn't a choice. and i have tried many times to not be fat. but i shouldn't have to. and i face enough hatred and judgment from myself. i don't need to experience it from strangers on the street. 

I leave you with this thought:

be kind to yourself, regardless of your size, regardless of how you see your size ...

xoxo

...