Author: MovingForward

I recently traveled down memory lane, reliving my handful of 2015 posts, and I found myself pausing in awe of my life’s transformation.  Just a few years ago I was terribly lost, searching for the life circumstance I have today.

Today I live a blissful life of complete normalcy.

It’s astounding how extraordinary the seemingly mundane can be.  I found the job I needed, my children are thriving, I have brilliant friends, I am in a healthy and very loving relationship; overall, life is as wonderfully close to perfect as you can get!  And I reflect… what a twisted journey I traveled to land in this exact spot.   But should I have arrived any other way, I am doubtful I would live as gratuitous as I do.  I am surrounded by an abundance of love, health, stability and happiness.  So now what?

I have spent so much of my life in search, sometimes crawling through, to find some source of stability and a path to live a steady life that allows me to provide for my offspring.  But I did it.  In fact, I may have even overachieved!  I pretty much love each facet of my ordinary existence.  Don’t get me wrong, life isn’t perfect, but I wouldn’t trade my trivial issues for the large-scale ones of times past.  So now that I am here, where do I go next?  I don’t want the journey of betterment to end.  I have always had a long-term project, problem, or necessity to strive towards.  But now, I find myself in search of a hobby, a give-back project,  or something inspirational I am passionate about.  Dance used to be that for me.  Every waking moment was about taking lessons, practicing, perfecting, and existing to express through movement.  I tried to go back and get involved in dance again, but, sadly,  I have fallen out of love.  It no longer is a driving force motiving me to take risks, compete, nor does it fill up my ever-draining bucket.  My #firstworldproblem is I can’t seem to find a comparable replacement.

So I am returning to my processing place; my writing.  And although the last thing my expanding waste-line needs is more computer time, I am sure that I will find what I am looking for inwardly, as I have in the past.  My struggles taught me to trust my gut, and this is what my internal intuition has been directing me towards for quite awhile.  So here I am – Miss Normal, loving my mediocrity while in search of my next adventure.  I welcome guidance – leave me your thoughts.  I’d love to hear them.

I found this draft from a few months ago and am deciding to publish it now.  Anxiety is a terrible disorder that eats aways at everyday joy and inner peace.  I will never give up the fight against these dreaded feelings, and luckily today I am much stronger for it.  I am choosing to still post this as keeping the anxious feelings at bay is a daily battle for me.  I would love to help others through their anxiety as there are times I am desperate to have someone go through mine with me.  I have the upper hand again today, and I will continue to persevere, take care of myself, rely on exercise, and live in gratitude daily to keep the feelings of doom at bay.  If you have your own anxiety story, I’d love to hear it.

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Anxiety.  I have struggled with waves of severe anxiety ever since I can remember.  I was an uptight teen, a  wound up ball of nerves as a young adult, and even found myself being admitted to the hospital until I was labeled with the embarrassing diagnosis of suffering from panic disorder.  Have you ever had one?  A true panic attack I mean?   It’s the overwhelming feeling that you are going to die, and there is nothing you can do about it.  I would feel like I was actually dying right then, in that moment, and I didn’t have time to kiss my kids, tie up loose ends, or achieve my higher purpose.  It’s a terrifying experience that I wish upon very few.  🙂

But thanks to therapy, I have learned to deal with my anxious episodes.  25 years ago it took taking some powerful meds and a great deal of cognitive therapy, but I learned how to invite the anxiety in instead of fight it.  I learned to listen to what my body is trying to tell me instead of fighting it.  There are times where I find more success than others, but I have survived, and I felt like I finally had the upper-hand on this struggle.  It no longer defined me…. until late.  I seem to be losing the battle once again.  The worry, fear, sometimes terror even, has come back with a vengeance.  I am so completely worn down, that I have decided to surrender to the meds once again (I hear they have come a long way since then).  And even at this point in my life when I know that I am not going to die from a panic attack, the suffering and worry that accompany the attacks are horrific.  If you are blessed and have never experienced the paralyzing fear of an attack, it’s hard to truly understand what it is like.   Those that don’t understand anxiety don’t fully understand me.  You wouldn’t imagine the pride I feel when I am able to successfully navigate an otherwise seemingly normal situation that used bring me to my knees.  You wouldn’t understand how terrified and isolated I feel when the wave of panic washes over me like angry waves in a torrid storm.   You would be amazed at how hopeless and weak I am at the mercy of the aggressive fury these episodes bring.  Today I am giving up the fight to do this on my own.  After 25 years of being med free, I took my first anti-anxiety med this morning.  Parts of me are disappointed in myself for not defeating this thief of internal peace by my own will, but most of me is just worn down.  I have so much wonderful in my life, and I am tired of my anxious feelings eroding my joy.  So wish me luck, and most of all peace.  I’ll keep you posted.

My great grandma used to shake her head and with a heavy sigh she would say, “We are in a mess, love, the world is in a mess.”   She had no idea 10 plus years ago how understated those words could be.   Every day there is some horrific shooting, we are being forced to choose between corrupt political candidates to lead our great country, and terrorism and hateful acts have crippled our lives.  And while my problems certainly don’t add up to the tragedy surrounding our existence, I am certainly consumed with them today.  Right now my insides are in knots over my micro-world, wondering how the legal system has failed my son, yet again.  An institution that was built to protect our rights, has gotten it so very wrong….still.

I rationally understand that my complaints are small; minuscule in comparison to the gross misfortunes and unfair treatment of many others;  and to them, my heart breaks.  My little world of problems and injustices pales in comparison, but it’s real to me, so I will feel it.  I am angry.  I feel violated, and I feel wronged.  I wasn’t heard and understood.  I was quickly judged and didn’t get my fair turn.  How many others have suffered with a similar fate, and with much worse outcomes, and are living with their unjust consequences?  The anger I feel inside is overwhelming.  I don’t have an outlet for it tonight.  Tonight I am home with my children; I can’t go running, scream obscenities or even cry because I need to be here for them.  But inside I am crying.  My son has grown up without a father.  The man who could have played this role chose not to participate.  He was selfish and chose the life of bachelorhood over our marriage and family.  So I have raised my son on my own, and I must not lose sight on what a blessing that has been.  It’s been almost 12 amazing years that I have watched this little being grow and thrive.  We have our moments, and it’s not always easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  He has taught me humility, patience, true priority, and the importance of forging ahead when I have just wanted to curl up and disappear.  I will forever try my hardest for my children.  They deserve nothing less than my very best.  But they deserve that from both parents.  My son, has only had me.  Not only has ‘the biological’ abandoned him with his physical presence, he is out of touch and offers no emotional support.  This is something my son is longing for from him – my son goes as far as to makes excuses as to why his father doesn’t call or come to visit.  He craves a hero in him, and I can see the disappointment when his father doesn’t reach out. ….

So after 11.5 year of not contributing, I had my moment in court asking for some assistance and accountability, and the system failed.  It failed to understand the situation as it truly is.  It failed because oaths to tell the truth, so help us God, were not honored.  It failed because the unconditional desire to provide for offspring, no matter how big or small, has fallen off the path and instead selfish and self-serving behaviors have taken over.  And in the end, I, the sole provider, carry a heavier load.  Astonishing.

I’m sad.  I’m angry.  I’m dumbfounded.  And I’m bitter.  Oh so bitter.  I have operated under the belief that if I live life with integrity and do my very best, then it will work out.  But it didn’t.  And frankly, my faith in humanity and the society that we live in is broken.  My optimism is clouded and I feel a tremendous depression storming in.  I wish I could calm my insides.  I wish I could go back to feeling proud of being me, and pitying the man who missed out on the childhood of an amazing boy with a beautiful spirit.  How he can live with himself, I will never know.  I am glad I will never know.   Resiliency will come for me, but for now I am letting the hurt in and these words flow so that I can come back and be the mother and father my son deserves.  My life is not a sentence and I hope to quickly  move past these devastating feels of injustice.  This, too, shall pass….. Adjourned.

I can’t believe it has been so long since I have written. 6 months. It’s been over half of a year since I have allowed myself the healing opportunity to let my feelings in their entirety flow through my fingertips. To be honest, I started many times, but I was too scared to put my true feelings in writing. You might find yourself wondering ‘why’ since I didn’t seem to have any issues spewing the sad, pathetic, and depressing low lights of my most recent past. But life has a funny way of turning. Here’s a peek into what transpired over the past few months:   7 months ago I met my equal. 5 months ago I landed an ideal job. 4 months ago I hired a spirited and caring nanny so I don’t worry while I work. 3 months ago my son stopped complaining of his fears of dying. 2 months ago I began to experience a lot of success at work. Currently my children are healthy and doing well. And me?  Today I am happy. I’m more than happy, in fact, I am content.  Yes, I find feeling content being a step above happiness.  It’s an embracing state of calm positive well-being.

It’s amazing how quick these life-altering positives swept over me! Upon re-entering the workforce, my despair turned to clarity, my common worries have shifted to productive action, my finances are on a path to sustainability, and my insomnia is still insomnia – wait – we can’t have it all… And even though I have ups and downs, my insides are calm. I have this overwhelming feeling that life is as it should be…finally. I’m working, providing, and achieving both independently and in partnership. I don’t know whether I survived or arrived, but I am pleased to be here. So when/if life turns again, let this post serve as my reminder that I will eventually get back through to better times; I always do. And why? Because I have this precious combination of supportive family and friends that never leave me, and are committed to seeing me through to the other side. I like this side where there is beauty and hope and peace. In this space I’m reacquainting myself with balance; time to be productive at work, working on projects without interruption (oh how I forgot what a gift that is), true joy and being present when spending time with my children, and time to love and be loved. There is nothing earth-shattering in this equation, nothing crazy, no drama. I just adds up equaling normalcy. I’m hoping it results in staying awhile.

So, I haven’t wanted to write because I don’t want to jinx the calm, content, easy-going life that found me in these short months. But that wouldn’t be progress now would it? So instead, I am going to live in the moment and say that 2015 ended on an incredibly normal high note that felt nothing less than extraordinary for me.  I have no idea what 2016 and beyond has in store, but I plan to focus on greater things like adding vegetables to my children’s diet, tackling how to limit screen time for my son, how to keep the pounds off while having a desk job, and maybe a little around how to stay strong, independent and true to myself.  That feels good.

Let’s keep the fear at bay….Happy New Year, and I mean happy.

Well, it’s Father’s Day today, and it’s certainly an interesting day in my home.  My son tells everyone he doesn’t have a father, and therefore he deems it ‘Brother’s Day,’ in honor of all he does for his little sister.  I’m not quite sure what to do that attitude because he does have a father, (and they enjoy each other’s company when they see one another), but he only visits a couple of times a year for 2 days, and they rarely speak in between.  Biological dad has chosen the path of un-involvement, which I will never understand, but that’s his tragic loss.  Because I love my son so much, I used to help pay for biological dad’s airline flights out to visit, allowed him to stay in my home with us, gave him the use of my car – I used to even buy birthday and Christmas presents ‘from him’, all in the hopes that my son would feel loved and valued by the dad he desperately wants.   It’s difficult for my little guy when he sees other dads, men, big brothers, even my dance partner, and craves their attention. Recently my girlfriend’s husband has been hanging out with him for video-game boy nights, and my son is infatuated.  I don’t think the Gamer Dad realizes what an impact he has and continues to make on a little boy that has to pick and choose the behaviors of other fathers and piece them together, like a puzzle, to realize the full picture of what it means to be a father.

I always feel that I have failed him in this area of his life.  Others tell me that I am the one that has been failed, but I take responsibility for my son’s situation, and I can only be supportive of the healing needed because of his absent father.  But then I think about what it means to have a father, and is he really missing all of the pieces?  The unconditional love, the role modeling, the teaching the ‘man stuff,’ sports, paling around…. we do that.  It may not be the same as having the traditional dad-in-home, but when have I been traditional?  I grew up with my father in our home.  He worked a lot, and was/is an excellent provider.  My memories include time spent on the boat, summers in Catalina, anchoring off the oil islands, beach parties, and I wanted for nothing.  But I didn’t feel like he and I had a deep connection.  I *may* have taken some extreme measures in my late teens, perhaps angry with him over a myriad of issues……. or I was just a difficult adolescent (hard to imagine, I know).  In my terrible rebellion, I married young, and to an older man that my parents forbid me to see.  Their wisdom and intent were spot-on, but I was a teenager, and obviously knew more than they did then.  It put a terrible strain on the family relationship, and i certainly didn’t make it easy on them. Finally, after 2 regrettable lost years,  we sat down on a very uncomfortable Saturday 20-something years ago.  We put all of our issues on the table.  My parent’s disappointments/frustrations/upset with me, and mine with them.  I believe it’s the reason my first husband was put into my life; he was the catalyst for something magical.  A relationship that was so broken began the transformation to the unyielding bond we have today.  It took a lot of hard work, effort, and we still made mistakes, but we built nothing short of a solid relationship.  My dad and I started over 21 years ago.  My father is a man of integrity, he’s driven, he loves with his whole heart on his sleeve, we share a similar sense of humor, (so he’s hilarious), he will help you, even when you don’t want it, and he’s *there.*  My dad is present for us.  He drops what he is doing when I call.  He hurts when I hurt.  He tries to find solutions for me when there are none, but most importantly, he accepts me.  He loves me for all my quirks, my backwards way of living my life, he loves my adopted daughter as much as my biological son, and he never wavers in that love and support for me.  Life events aren’t real until I tell my parents about them.  As a single mom, I miss out on having a partner that experiences the feeling of pride and pure joy that comes with watching spiritually good-hearted and amazing children that create, solve, love, and accomplish.  My parents do that with me.  My dad is the consistent role-model for my son. So dad or no dad, my son receives the gifts bestowed by the father from my daddy; the love, the acceptance and all the trimmings that come with unconditional love….. my dad makes it so.  He not only says it in words because we are so far away, but his actions are consistent with his loving rhetoric.

So my son wishes for today to be brother’s day.  It’s not.  It’s Father’s Day.  It’s a day to honor, appreciate, and love the men that are Fathers and do dad-like things for him and us.   Our first order of business is FaceTiming with his grandpa because ‘Grandpa Claus’ loves him with all of his heart.  Happy Father’s Day Daddy.  There isn’t a thing I would change about us.  I love you; from the bottom of my heart I love you, our family, and the man that you are.  I’m proud to be your little girl.

I understand it’s only the end of 4th grade, but I’m kinda freaking out.  I felt like my son would be in elementary school forever.  As a former 4th grade teacher, I was especially excited for this school year, which ended up being quite anticlimactic in that they read Island of the Blue Dolphins in class, and there wasn’t a mission project send home for us to work on together.  I was bitterly disappointed as I was waiting for those.  And now my little man, who has aced grade 4, is preparing to become a 5th grader, and then you know what that means…. middle school.  I’m not ready.  I get all choked up just thinking about it.  Last night he told me to take my last ‘glance’ at him as a 4th grader. That killed me!  My daughter also excelled in preschool, she needs a little improvement in following directions and being nice to others, but then again, so do I.    I don’t feel so bad with her behavior at home, and at least feel there is consistency.  This week I am determined to get her into a big girl bed, and she continues to grow and is so incredibly smart!

This weekend marked the one year anniversary of my quitting my job running the studio.  While not the best financial decision of my life, it was the best mental health decision I made, second to leaving my marriage.  I was working in such a negative, integrity-less environment whose business practices went against my core values.  It felt terrible to draw money out of people as they do, and it’s all just wrong.  They had their showcase this weekend and I had students reach out to me to tell me how much they still miss me and what I brought to the studio.  That made me feel wonderful and loved.

Speaking of great feelings, I am so impressed with how well I am doing these days.  I don’t have a job or any interviews scheduled, but there are a few irons in the fire.  I dedicated last week to dating and went on 4 horrible dates, one decent, and one very nice date.  I am going to see him again, so I’m not going to write about it.  🙂  I also went out with girlfriends this weekend.  What a blessing I have in this.  We went for wine, talked, laughed, supported one-another, accepted one another, and I felt like the luckiest girl on the planet.  It was such a balanced weekend – I did a lot with the kids – bowling, biking, swimming.  I went out with my girlfriends, and enjoyed the beautiful weather.  I have been working on framing my story in my head about my life and I am really feeling the shift of my self-pity to contentment and happiness.  What a difference a practiced attitude shift makes!  I’m late in posting this one, as I have more to write about, so I’ll sign off now!

So I have no idea how to eat anymore.  I can physically put the fork in my mouth, but what to put on that fork is a burning question.  My son and I suffered through the documentary, Vegucated.  If you aren’t familiar, it is a horrifying journey of 3 New Yorkers turing Vegan for 6 weeks.  There is a great deal of information regarding negative environmental factors involved with meat production, but the terror comes with slaughter house footage, how animals are treated, or shall I say mistreated, with a natural dose of adverse health effects common to carnivores.  My little man kept covering his eyes, I was in tears, and he eventually left to tend to his legos while I suffered through the turmoil.  We ate PB&J for a couple of days, and even though he’s back to cheese burgers, he is making some healthier choices.  On our last date celebrating his successful completion of 4th grade he ordered fruit instead of fries, and when his lemonaide was ready for a refill he asked for water instead.  Dr. Furmon, a nutrition expert and doctor that I follow, informed us that it takes 15 times to try a new food for kids to like it.  My meat and grease lover watched this speech, so he has been eating one of everything now and has fully committed to trying new things 15 times.  I think that’s pretty darn cool.  In related news, we also are playing basketball and we walk and hike, fulfilling a new 1 hour of physical activity goal per day.  We are transitioning into a healthier lifestyle for him (I exercise all the time and eat very well).  It feels good and it’s so nice to see progress being made from my nagging efforts and endless worry of if I am taking care of the two of them to the best of my ability.  I won’t always be there to help make good choices, so to see it happening with my eldest means a lot. My daughter is too young, but is a much better eater of veggies.  While I am home, I might as well be doing all of the good I can do.

I have been eating very well as of late.  Everyone around me is sick, and I am trying to side-step that by eating well.  My daughter has a lingering kennel cough from preschool, and she has not been sleeping at night.  I have to say I am tuckered out and I hope I don’t lose the battle to stay well to exhaustion.  I am not feeling 100% today, so it will be early to bed for me, and hopefully a restful night.  I’m not too hopeful.  I have a hard time sleeping as it is, so the added awakenings due to her coughing and crying are not great for my well-being, but that is motherhood for you.  How I wish I could ask someone else to be on duty tonight so that I could sleep though and not feel the worry and responsibility that I live with constantly, but again, that’s motherhood, and I embrace it all – the good, the bad, and the very very tired.

As you can tell from my ramblings, there isn’t much going on for me, period.  No job interviews on the horizon, no dates scheduled, and it’s the last full week of school, so life will shift again for our little family.  I’m focusing on my attitude and how I am framing my story and this time in my life.  I won’t get these years back at home with the kids, and I truly do love being a good mom.  It’s expensive as hell, but when I look back, how will I ever be able to regret that I *had* to spend an extra year or so at home raising two beautiful souls that will be better off for the rest of their lives for it?  Wow, how mature and self-actualized do I sound?  It’s better than me being in tears and feeling sorry for myself.  And to be honest, which is why I am writing all of this, I am actually feeling better about my situation.  I have my days when I am so very down that it hurts, and you have been there with me on some of those dark occasions, but right now I am a little lighter.  My good friend shared her revelation with me; life is about the little choices in the moment, and making them out of love.  I’m going to do that this week.  All my good little choices are going to add up to a different looking week – care to follow and see how that works?   I was already doing a bit better just because I stopped caring so much about the job and finding the solution.  I am doing what I am supposed to do, and the rest is a bit out of my control.  As long as I am doing all of that, then I am trying to let myself off the hook a bit and be okay with staying home, loving on my kids, and enjoying my time with the amazing friends I have.  I like her way better.  It’s more positive, gives more meaning and forces me to focus on the present.

It’s now 5:30am Monday morning.  Mondays are always a day to start over and fresh for the new week.  This week I am going to try to add a few dance lessons, maybe schedule some coffee dates, take my kids to the beach, exercise, eat really well, and be the best me I can be making good choices in the moment out of love.  Let’s see if I can do that, stay upbeat, and figure out a new eating plan.  Care to join me?  What are you making for dinner?

One of these days I am going to have something wonderful to tell you all.  I will have gotten a job, or met a nice guy, or figured out something truly incredible, but for now all I can say is I am getting through day by day.  I didn’t get any of the jobs I interviewed for.  I’m stressed by this as I truly couldn’t have tried any harder.  I feel like I have been punched in the gut and I go between feeling completely hopeless to, “come on, pick yourself up, you have been through worse.”

My saving psychological grace is knowing that I couldn’t have prepped more,  taken better care of myself, practiced, or performed better than I did during my interviews and presentations.  There is not one thing I regret or wish I could have done differently, yet the job alludes me.  The feedback I received has been positive; hiring managers are passing around my resume, and perhaps something will come of all of this, but the overpowering hurt inside, which is quickly turning to fear around being able to pay for our little existence, is hard to keep at bay.  I know things have to change sometime, but have you ever walked around with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach wondering how the hell you are going to be able to give your children the things and experiences they want and need?  It brings tears to my eyes and my chest tightens up knowing that I can’t give (especially my oldest) what they want right now.  Deep breath, deep breath.

To keep myself distracted while I have been sick to my stomach over the whole situation, I signed back up for online dating. Yay me and the world’s worst process for meeting puffed up men.  I went out on a lunch date a couple of weeks ago with a guy I chatted with for a couple of days.  I forgot how horrible dating is, and he was a helpful reminder.  He did not resemble the picture he sent.  At 45, he is a trainwreck and scattered.  He picked me up from the dance studio and took me to lunch.  He drove a fun convertible lexus, has 2 sons, is 45, good job, etc.  But wow, what a disaster.  He’s all over the place with girls and has no idea how to censor what comes out of his mouth.  He was planning our future before lunch came, and I ordered a glass of wine to help me through.  At the end of lunch, he wanted to ‘hold’ me, and it was uncomfortable.  And then came the, ‘I am going to try too hard to try to kiss you.”  Good Lord, ICK.  But what took the cake was our text exchange after:

Let’s call him Tony, because that is his name.

Tony:  Well what do you think (lip icons – 3 of them)

Me:  Nice lips

Tony:  I really liked you.  and I’m not going to lie, I want to hold you as soon as possible.

Me:  I enjoyed spending time with you as well, but I think I’m feeling the friend thing more than romantic

Tony:  This is for you.  Today as I was walking looking into the sky heavy with clouds.  I wondered what will the day bring me.  The clouds parted and the sun shines through bringing me a angel today.  A angel with a body that fits perfect inside of my hug.  Lips that touched mine with a hope of true love.  A lady with no one she needs.  But maybe if she closes her eyes she might see the person she needs might be me.

Tony again:  How about now?

How about now?  Is he kidding me?  The exchange turned heated by him at times with me simply saying I want to be friends and then not responding. He called at texted for days until a mutual friend stepped in and told him to leave me alone. I should be flattered, I know, but instead it was just depressing.  I also went out with a delightful 49 year old CHP officer.  Blah, but nice.  More recently I went on 2 dates with a nice Jewish boy.  He is seeing forever, and I’m wondering if it’s better to tell him I am not interested via text or email….. I don’t have any further dates set up except for dinner tonight with a handsome 10 year old before Open House, and a weekend with him and my 3.5 year old.  I’m really looking forward to it, and that makes me happy.  I would like to do something special with them this weekend if I can.  I have never taken them anywhere overnight alone, and I was considering it, but I have been fortunate to schedule a lesson for Saturday and one for Sunday, so I need to stay in town to teach.  I will save that for when school is out I think.

As part of self-reflection, I have decided to stop asking others for help, and to go inward for awhile.  It’s embarrassing to keep telling people that I can’t seem to land a job.  I am better than this, and I feel like a failure.  I feel stupid.  I feel inadequate.  I feel like I am stuck in this cycle no matter how much I have put myself out there.  I am going to focus on being a mom, which has been extra rewarding lately.  I will continue my due diligence and look and apply for jobs, but I’m not reaching out to people anymore for help.  This I have to figure out on my own.  Let’s hope the funds hold out til I do.

I can’t stand another unemployed minute.  Seriously, honestly, I am going crazy inside, and sometimes on the outside too.  I love my kids, but I spend every ounce of their unoccupied moments with them.  And I know all the shoulds – I should be enjoying this time because it is all going to change on a dime.  I should cherish being with my children 24 fricking 7 because they are going to grow older and I won’t get these years back.  I should write a book, volunteer my time, start a business, organize my house, cook clean meals, join a book club, take a meditation class, the list goes on and on.  And I know all of that. I don’t know about you, but shit gets done when I’m busy, not when I’m idle.  No, I don’t spend my time sitting around.  Professionally speaking, I’m a daily results-oriented workout person, I manage multiple loads of laundry, I design and deliver meals (not as gourmet as I have the time for), I coordinate meetings… with friends, I’m driven to apply for job after stupid job, I’m developing brand awareness with my friend to get a photography business going, I dance, I sporadically facilitate dance lessons here and there, and my biggest strength lies in my ability to stress.  If I could get paid to stress, I’d be Bill Gates.  I am so stressed right now watching my savings account shrink.  I had a big tax bill this year, who would have thought when I qualify at poverty level, but thank you government.  I have big insurance payments, another I need to make today.  My rent is ridiculous, (while low all at the same time).  If I had to move, I’d be screwed, yet I can’t afford to live here.  It’s a lot.

In other news, I’m in the running for a new job – FINALLY.  And I am stressing about that too!  It’s been TEN years since I have run the rat race and I know it’s going to be hard and uncomfortable to jump back in.  I am full of self-doubt about self-worth within corporate america, however, I know it’s what I need to do.  As much as I want to continue my career in dance, every part of me is screaming at me that I need to work in the ‘real world’; the gut is guiding, so I’m listening.  In hopes to accomplish that mission, I have swallowed my pride and let people know, what I would otherwise keep private, that I am in need of employment.  I hate asking for help.  Loathe it actually.  Yet for the sake of my kids I have asked for favors from friends, for introductions, I have applied for low-level jobs (and receive rejection letters daily), and it hasn’t come to much more than embarrassment.  I find myself short with my kids sometimes, and frustrated to tears oftentimes.  Yesterday, despite all my positive efforts through my day I was so depressed.  Let’s look back;  I worked out hard hoping that would ease my anxiety. I listened to my ‘Soul Shift’ book while doing so, pumping me up to transform myself into a seer and not a seeker.  I dressed nice so I would feel good about myself.  I got out of the house and sat with a good friend in the sunshine.  I re-worked my resume making necessary changes for this new position- my friends and cousin got involved and helped re-design my resume so it ‘pops’ now even, I taught a great lesson at the studio, I took my son to swim lessons and made him a dinner he loved.     Doesn’t that sound amazing?  Look at how accomplished I was.  Shouldn’t I be on top of the world?  But I also had a lot of down time and I was so, so sad and depressed inside it hurt.  I wanted to cry all day, and this morning while reflecting, I’m tying it to a comment on my post yesterday – about control.  I am ok with not being in control.  I get it Universe, I am not in control.  But it’s this uncertainty that I can’t handle.  I will have a new set of challenges with a new job, but I can’t begin to solve those until I know the variables.  Location of said job, time away, salary, childcare, certifications that need completion, etc.  I want to start jumping over the hurdles, but I can’t because I don’t know where/what/how my new job will be.  All I know is that my stupid ex-husband lost his job, doesn’t have to pay me support, so I am living off of my savings and I feel like an unintelligent, stupid girl that relied on a stupider (I don’t care if it’s not a word) man financially, and is now using any and all of her money that she hoped to purchase a home with just to pay her rent and expenses.  AT 41.  I’m SO ‘supposed’ to be past this point in my life.  And it makes me want to avoid new relationships with anyone, only be with those I know and trust, and I feel the absolute weight of the world on my shoulders.  It’s a sad, sad place to be and I am sitting here with tears streaming down my cheeks writing about my truth.  And what is worse is that I KNOW these aren’t even problems.  My kids are healthy, I am healthy, my family and friends are healthy.  I have family and friends that love me.  There wasn’t a huge earthquake here. I’m dripping in self pity and pissed at myself for it.

At least the scale put me down a pound, otherwise all hope would be lost.

Ugh, it’s SO not my scene!

Each year my aunt comes within an hour of my stomping grounds to visit her adult daughter, otherwise known as my hilarious cousin.  For the past couple of years they have included me for part of their girls’ weekend, and we have a blast!  We have our own exclusive club, the UM’s (unfit mothers), and we laugh and celebrate our ‘fantastic’ parenting moments.  The name was naturally born from some ridiculous paperwork my ex-husband #4 filed against me.  I have many faults, however, the one area of strength I own is my devotion and love for being a mother to my kids.  (Except at 6pm last night when I was about to put my daughter for sale on eBay.  Other than that, I love being a mom and feel a great sense of gratitude that I have spent TEN years at home with my kids, but that’s for another time).

This past weekend we went out in the city for a couple of drinks and some dancing.  I felt so old.  I looked around at all of the 20 and 30-somethings, all who have probably never changed a diaper, been through days in court fighting for custody of children and the silverware, and they all enjoyed gainful and exciting employment.  The feelings of inferiority swept over me.  I felt each wrinkle on my face as if they were on fire, and I was sure everyone could see all of my faults and failures.  After my second glass of ‘cougar juice’ I laughed at how silly my little life would seem to the young guys that bought me my drink and think I am 29. How they would run for cover grateful to have escaped my little hell. And I thought, I can’t stand bars:   Everyone trying to look relaxed while highly uncomfortable, dressed up specimens posturing importance while anxiously scanning the room for either a hook-up or a spouse.  Yuck.  Done.  No Thanks.  Yes, I’m getting older, but also wiser. These are not my people; I was only there to celebrate my family, so, attitude shift!  I spent the rest of the night focused on my outstanding company, led my cousin around the dance floor, and laughed until it hurt.  Bars aren’t so bad with that attitude.

But since I broached the subject of vanity, let’s go there.  Just for a shallow minute.  I admit that I am pretty obsessed with my weight; ridiculously consumed actually.  I haven’t really had a weight problem in my life, I added significant ‘poundage’ through pregnancy with my son, but I took it all off and got myself back into shape.  When I am stressed and anxious I don’t feel like eating.  I used to be really busy, so I didn’t have much time to think about eating.  And I used to dance all the time, so even when I did eat, it didn’t matter what I consumed.  M&M’s for dinner was common.  But now I am in-to my 40’s, very early in-to, but in-to nonetheless.  Stress certainly is part of my life, but it doesn’t keep me from downing those extra snacks anymore.  I graze all day long.  It was all fine and dandy when I was a size 00.  But now I have exploded into a 2.  (I just said that to piss you off, did it work?)  Why I am tied to the numbers on the scale and tag, I do not know, but I honestly and sadly am.  I surrender to it even.  I accept that my mood, demeanor, drive, and aura revolve around the size of my waistline.  What a waist of time and energy (pun intended).  Intellectually I know that.  I even took a field trip to the mall thinking that if I bought some bigger clothes and I wasn’t so uncomfortable all of the time I could think more productive thoughts.  But when I slipped on those size 4’s, I couldn’t buy them. I hate the games stores play – a size 4 at Express?  I had to run over to NY&Co just to be sure I was still a 2 in their store! I didn’t buy anything there either.  Instead I went to Old Navy and bought three $15 summer dresses (smalls) so I would have those to wear instead of shoving my insides into my denim.  Even writing this makes me feel so, what’s the word…..vain?  Stupid? (I already used shallow….)  So I just want to tell those of you that know me, I know it’s stupid, and my guess is I will continue to be stupid until I find some peace around this, or fit back into my 0’s (I can give up my 00’s, those were some bad, bad times).  And I am sitting here, writing about it while sipping on my green smoothie, which I made extra disgusting today; I cut back on the high-sugar berries, and added ginger root and more veggies than normal to punish myself for that extra glass of wine last night.

Even so, I have to admit that I feel a little bit of a shifting starting to happen.  I look younger with a couple of extra pounds, and I feel stronger and healthier when I eat and exercise.  I would like to focus on those feelings and let the feelings of panic and anxiety over the loss of part of my wardrobe (White House, Black Market isn’t cheap you know) and my total identity to being so thin go.  Health.  I need to see and feel health and not worry about the numbers. This is going to take some time, but oh the peace I would have; that would be worth it.  Issues like these are why I love writing this blog.  I find some clarity and my intuition starts driving my words, and girlfriend, I’m listening.  And staying away from the bars!