Strugglefest, June 7, 2010

**Originally posted to my 'Shredding' blog**

My heart hurts. Usually I would just post this to my personal blog. I have a contest running right now and I really don't know how I feel about a bunch of 'strangers' reading a post like this for the first time. I wouldn't call them strangers, but this is heavy, and would rather not scare my new friends off. Perhaps I will post it there later this week, so please forgive me that this isn't completely weight-loss related.

Yesterday was a very deep, dark, depression filled day. So much so that I longed to go back to bed, to lay on the couch and fall asleep. Anything, to avoid doing anything. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't eat. I couldn't move. I felt stuck. When I did move, I started eating, and not necessarily good things.

I was sad about my weight. I was really angry with myself for sitting and going no where with my weight for the past two months. I feel this overwhelming burden to be better and do better, but I have no drive. When I have no drive, I get depressed, when I get depressed, I eat. It is a vicious, vicious cycle and I don't know what to do to change it.

When my husband finally got home (he left early in the morning) I just cried and said I needed to get out. So I left, and I ran. I ran on my 'grandma legs and feet'. I tried to just breathe and make it through the day. My run didn't fix my broken heart, or my dark day, but it reminded me that I can do this hard thing. I may not be in my 'place' yet. The place I need to be to lose any weight. (Because apparently I am still stuck in this place, just like I was two years ago when I wouldn't budge from 167. Man how I would pay money to be 167 again and never budge, instead of my 196 that I am stuck at now. tears.)

This post makes no sense. I just needed to get it out that I was in a dark place, and that I am trying to be an example to you guys, that I have not given up...that I am fighting this beast of weight, like I am fighting the other demons in my head. Hopefully I can start kicking all of their trash soon.

Loves all.

--Kim

Buyer Beware

So, uhm, this post has NOTHING to do with buying, but has everything to do with the other people at the grocery store.

The mid-twenty something (or younger I would assume by their tactlessness) men who frequent the grocery stores, and or work there during the times this pregnant woman must drag her kids to the store.

This post is for you gentlemen.
I use the term LOOSELY...extremely loose.

About two months ago, Hubbs was at work and we desperately needed groceries. So, I did the unimaginable but the much needed grocery shopping trip with the two kids. Oi. We did fine until checkout when the grocery store I chose takes the kids behind the checker...you know cuz that is how it works and it is the only way to get the cart through the line. Well, Memms decides she is going to have a freak out (not uncommon...she is a drama queen at times.)

Well, the idiotic dood who is bagging my groceries just can't handle her. He can't keep his big mouth shut for some reason and begins cursing and using the "Lord's" name in vain in reference to my child. Now, I can handle most things, but this was OUT OF LINE. Wanting desperately myself to get the H out of the store, I quickly paid and went to my car, all that night wishing I had said something to him, or complained to his manager, it was just not OKAY...this is customer SERVICE people, not, "Make this customer never come back service."

So, I let that one slide...until yesterday.

We needed milk. It was only 95 degrees outside, but alas we needed milk, and again Hubbs was at work, so I had to drag two tired, hot kids to the store, and as I situate them into the "Car Kart" I realize that there is only ONE steering wheel. The other had been broken off. SO, we give Memms the first go because afterall "Ladies First".

Then we get to the milk and I ask her to switch so that J-Man can have a turn.
Well, she does but then proceeds to FREAK out right in the dairy isle of Smiths.

Like, grade-A freak out.
(grade-a...I am SO FUNNY.)

Well joy of joys, who do I see out of my peripherals but two young men, who in their stupidity didn't comtemplate that this pregnant woman with TWO...YES TWO children ALREADY...might not need their input begin to say,

"Shut! UP!" and "Geez that kid is SO loud, shut her up."

Me? "OH NO HE DIDN'T!"

He got the...and I am sorry for all of you who don't like profanity...but the "man" er uh boy got the,

"Shut the H up you F'in Bast_ _ _ _!"

As in I said the entire thing.

Now...I don't condone this behavior.
I am nine months pregnant and I can't handle one more thing right now.

So I warn you, you man who has never had children, who has no clue that even though your children are driving YOU crazy and everyone else around them, that BESIDES that,
you love them regardless...
and will protect them beyond anything...

TO YOU I SPEAK:

BEWARE...because next time I am nine months pregnant, with my two kids, at the store, in 100 degree weather, it will be more than a few profanities...
it will be your head covered in 1% milk and Swiss cheese...
and I may be arrested, but it will be SO worth it.

You've been warned.

What the?

Sometimes, especially this week, I cannot fathom why so many seemingly terrible things are happening all around me. Happening to AMAZING people. Ugh.

I hate seeing my friends hurting.
In the course of two weeks I have seen a friend lose a baby, another deal with her baby being very, very sick in the NICU, another friend struggle with legal stuff as well as wondering if her husband will ever find his dream job. Friends I have never met, making decisions about cancer, something no parent should ever have to make. This is just the tip of the iceberg really, I could go on and on and on and on.

Then, things in my own life that I wish would just go away, keep coming back up, like bad Italian.
Seriously, when is enough, enough?

I don't have the answer to that. I wish I did. I had the opportunity to see an old friend tonight. I haven't seen her for 9 years. It was BOMB. The funny thing is, we got talking about my year last year...dood, people, it sucked! It sucked ace. Let's be honest, if this blog wasn't Rated PG13, I may be dropping a few f'bombs about how my year was.

It kills me to think back on it...while at the same time,
I feel so victorious over it.

The trials that seemed to weigh me down, the holes in my walls as proof, now stand as medals of courage and valor, and reminders of where we have come from...and that no matter how bleak things look, there is time to heal the wounds.

Time to break free and hope for something better.
That is it never the answer to give up, but to keep fighting.
Because we all know how cool it is to be a winner.
How thankful I am to finally be on the other side for awhile...to give my hope and heart to those who need it so badly.

I just wanted my friends to know tonight how much I love them.
How often I think of them, and pray for them, and hope for them, and wish the best for them.

• Those who are waiting for babies, both through adoption, and through pregnancy, or hoping for pregnancy.
• Those who have lost their babies do to death and other tragedy.
• Those praying with swollen eyes over their babies whose future is still uncertain.
• Those who watch daily, their little one suffering with cancer (damn brain tumors, damn them!) and are not sure how many more days they will have with their six year old.
• Those who are seeking for peace and finality in their hope to be a forever family.
• Those who really would like to tell their boss to suck it so they can feel a grander scope of what this world has to offer...something other than limbo. (I hate limbo.)

Just praying for you...all of you, with all of my heart. All of it, not one spot left for anything but.

Today...

...I don't want to be the mom. I don't want to be the wife. I don't even want to be me.

(Everything is *basically* okay. Just wanted to make that clear.)

Really, all I want to do today is SCREAM and SHOUT and RUN AWAY.

Do you ever have days like this?

Gah, even as I sit here I am just ANGRY.

I HATE being angry. It is so ugly and so consuming. GAH!

I just want to be her. Carefree, without a worry, without a care.

Was my life ever like this?

As if!

As if 2008 didn't suck enough for us. Now we can't claim any of our expenses. What on earth? I am T-O'd.

Bad Boyz

My husband, who also happens to be a real estate consultant would probably not exactly approve of the following story (it may or may not drive down the value of our home in an already dwindling market).

So, I tell this story hypothetically speaking of course...because it is just too funny not to tell.

The scene: My birthday. It was last Friday. I turned 27. Ah bliss. It was a great day, a story I shall share at a later date.

Hubbs had so sweetly stayed home from work so that he and I could do some cuddling on our couch...and other places that night. I was super excited. We were downstairs watching some show or another when, at some OBSCENE hour of the night, it was close to eleven...we hear the doorbell ring. What the H? We both look at each other with raised brows. Hubbs, who was half dressed ran to our room to get some clothes on and answered the door. It was our neighbor.
He was ringing to inform us of the drug bust currently happening OUTSIDE OUR FRONT DOOR. Literally.

The story: Apparently the COPS were chasing this guy down the busy street adjacent to our home, a very speedy chase I might add, when Bozo the driver decided to turn down our street to try to lose the police in the neighborhood. Tee hee...guess what? We live on a freaking DEAD END. "Private Lane" as I like to refer to it. The idiot drove through our neighbor's sideyard fence and landed the front end of his car in another neighbor's backyard. The guy gets out of his car LEAVING HIS GIRLFRIEND...and makes a run for it. I am not sure if the cops responding had one too many donuts or what, but he got away, leaving his girlfriend to be handcuffed and put in the back of the car. Nice.

It is nice to know I have two awesome neighbors, one who ran after the dood with a bat, the other with a piece of wood. They didn't catch him either.

Good times I tell you. Good, good times.