I feel in a bit of a state of flux, but am surprisingly rather content.
There are aspects of my life (mainly just myself - the usual) that I am unhappy with, but overall, I am not unhappy. Not happy either I don't think, but content. It's a pleasant feeling....
I am planning my next tattoo. At the end of next month it will be 10 years since Jeremy passed away (not technically, but since I found out and the grieving began). And I intend to commemorate this.
When I was telling someone of the whole situation, they seemed to think I was a little bit nuts. Something along the lines of "but you didn't know him that long, and you weren't actually a real couple, etc etc". I think this resonated with me because I often think that too. And yet there is no mistaking the impact he had on me, both in life and death.
He had this giant spider on his leg (took up his whole thigh). (Actually, I apologise if I have already shared this story, but it's my blog so too bad). The first time he took his pants off, I swear I almost cried. At that point in my life I was quite arachnophobic and to say the tattoo frightened me would be a fair comment (I was the girl who panicked over the "huge" spider which was actually less than the size of a 5 cent coin). I got used to it (it was so big that it couldn't possibly be real so that helped whenever I caught an unexpected glimpse of it under the bed covers or anything - the spider that is....). Since his death, I have had multiple encounters with similar species of spider that have surprisingly left me quite calm. No squealing or panicking at all. Bizarre. The first one perved on me in the shower. It made perfect sense that if he was to come back at all, that would be his style. And since then, with the exception of white tails (devil spawn), I cope very well with spiders and am even sometimes fascinated by them.
So if for no other reason, that is why I am getting the tattoo. Jeremy also taught me a bit about myself, what I want, the type of person I am. And I'm grateful for getting to know him, even if it for much too brief a time.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Friday, June 21, 2013
Remember today I've no respect for you...
I just read a story on FB by a young woman who was told by her crush, several years ago, that nothing could happen between them because she was too fat; the primary problem being "what would his friends think?". Now that she's lost a considerable amount of weight she sent him a pic of her in a bikini and pointed out that he was, is and forever will be a jerk.
And good on her.
It got my mind ticking over, and here comes the babbling...
Regular readers, and real life friends (I'm pretty sure that everyone who reads this probably falls into both categories), will know that for the most of the beginning of this year I had a bit of a crush on a good friend of mine. When I daydreamed in my head that something might come of this, there were a few problems that arose as to why it wouldn't work out (a bit unfair considering that surely my imagination should be problem-free!). One was that I didn't want to ruin our friendship or cause any awkwardness. Two, is that I'm not hot enough to be his usual type (he usually goes out with girls with bangin' bodies, whereas I've been told numerous times that I have a pretty face, or would be gorgeous if I was skinnier). But the biggest obstacle I had would be what everyone else would think. While I may not be his type, I feel that could be overcome because I am awesome. However, I feel like everyone else (both his friends and just the general population) would think that I wasn't hot enough for him. Mostly because I'm pretty, but short and fat. Whereas he is tall and beautiful/handsome/all of the above.
This comes from a combination of things. One if just a hard dose of reality. People are judgemental as fuck. I know because I can be at times too, as well as learning this lesson in high school and from generally listening to people.
It also comes from an ex-boyfriend who tells you that it took him a while to introduce you to his friends because he knew they would judge me, and didn't want them to be disappointed when they met me, since I am a bigger girl. This is while we were still together, and about to spend an evening with said friends (when people wonder why I broke up with him (and make comments about how great he seemed), this is part of the reason).
I know I'm a bigger girl. I think I will always be to some degree (even if I managed to lose weight, I'm never going to be a stick thin girl, and I don't want to be). There are some guys out there who prefer bigger girls. The aforementioned ex was one of these, which seems like a good thing, except he did also once tell me that if I lost a decent amount of weight (to get into a healthier range - nothing too drastic) that he would find me considerably less attractive (what a champ...).
I read this article the other day (the writer also has an awesome blog that is definitely worth checking out). The first part of it really resonates with me. I've put up with that shit for most of my life (ever since my early teens). I admire this woman for the fact that she feels comfortable in her own skin. I like myself a lot more than I used to, but I still dislike my physical form. Not a deep hatred like I used to have, and I'm embracing it more, but even a 'like' is still a distance away.
Not sure if there is a point to this post, rather than just a general ramble...
And good on her.
It got my mind ticking over, and here comes the babbling...
Regular readers, and real life friends (I'm pretty sure that everyone who reads this probably falls into both categories), will know that for the most of the beginning of this year I had a bit of a crush on a good friend of mine. When I daydreamed in my head that something might come of this, there were a few problems that arose as to why it wouldn't work out (a bit unfair considering that surely my imagination should be problem-free!). One was that I didn't want to ruin our friendship or cause any awkwardness. Two, is that I'm not hot enough to be his usual type (he usually goes out with girls with bangin' bodies, whereas I've been told numerous times that I have a pretty face, or would be gorgeous if I was skinnier). But the biggest obstacle I had would be what everyone else would think. While I may not be his type, I feel that could be overcome because I am awesome. However, I feel like everyone else (both his friends and just the general population) would think that I wasn't hot enough for him. Mostly because I'm pretty, but short and fat. Whereas he is tall and beautiful/handsome/all of the above.
This comes from a combination of things. One if just a hard dose of reality. People are judgemental as fuck. I know because I can be at times too, as well as learning this lesson in high school and from generally listening to people.
It also comes from an ex-boyfriend who tells you that it took him a while to introduce you to his friends because he knew they would judge me, and didn't want them to be disappointed when they met me, since I am a bigger girl. This is while we were still together, and about to spend an evening with said friends (when people wonder why I broke up with him (and make comments about how great he seemed), this is part of the reason).
I know I'm a bigger girl. I think I will always be to some degree (even if I managed to lose weight, I'm never going to be a stick thin girl, and I don't want to be). There are some guys out there who prefer bigger girls. The aforementioned ex was one of these, which seems like a good thing, except he did also once tell me that if I lost a decent amount of weight (to get into a healthier range - nothing too drastic) that he would find me considerably less attractive (what a champ...).
I read this article the other day (the writer also has an awesome blog that is definitely worth checking out). The first part of it really resonates with me. I've put up with that shit for most of my life (ever since my early teens). I admire this woman for the fact that she feels comfortable in her own skin. I like myself a lot more than I used to, but I still dislike my physical form. Not a deep hatred like I used to have, and I'm embracing it more, but even a 'like' is still a distance away.
Not sure if there is a point to this post, rather than just a general ramble...
Monday, June 17, 2013
Could I be read if I was see through or would you just read my spine?
I talked to my "adopted" mum the day before my birthday, for a long overdue, but very quick, catch-up. She asked how I was doing and I said I was okay, which I was, and am. But it was a nice realisation to discover that I actually was ok. Sure I still have down days (as everyone does), and very down days, but it was a nice surprise to realise I haven't felt depressed in a wee while.
A few months back I did consider going back on anti-depressants because I felt like a failure at life (happens every so often), but I hate how they make me feel after a while. Band-aids can be helpful, but don't heal the wound underneath so efficiently.
At the moment, I do feel lost. I love the city I live in, but it is lonely and I don't really know anyone down here anymore outside of the work friends I have. My other friends that I had last time have either left the city, had a family (babies are cute but they tend to monopolise their parents' time somewhat), or it turns out they were all my exes friends who aren't so stoked that I broke up with him and whatnot. I am very comfortable with my own company, and often prefer it, but I end up just getting wrapped up inside my own head if I'm alone too long, which isn't generally a good thing for me.
I want to travel and see the world. But I also want to be around the people I love, and who love me, and to kind of settle myself down a bit.
I said in my last post that I wasn't stressing about it - and I'm still not. I'm going to apply for a job I used to have back in my "home" town. And while I'm aware that Palmy won't always be as fun as it was on my birthday, it still gives me more options of people to hang out with. And Wellington is still nice and close. If nothing else, this job will give me some more breathing room, and probably a chance to save a bit more money since it is generally cheaper to live there than Wellington. It does feel a little bit like going backwards, but it's not the worst job in the world. It's not even in the worst 3 jobs I've ever worked so that's something!
A few months back I did consider going back on anti-depressants because I felt like a failure at life (happens every so often), but I hate how they make me feel after a while. Band-aids can be helpful, but don't heal the wound underneath so efficiently.
At the moment, I do feel lost. I love the city I live in, but it is lonely and I don't really know anyone down here anymore outside of the work friends I have. My other friends that I had last time have either left the city, had a family (babies are cute but they tend to monopolise their parents' time somewhat), or it turns out they were all my exes friends who aren't so stoked that I broke up with him and whatnot. I am very comfortable with my own company, and often prefer it, but I end up just getting wrapped up inside my own head if I'm alone too long, which isn't generally a good thing for me.
I want to travel and see the world. But I also want to be around the people I love, and who love me, and to kind of settle myself down a bit.
I said in my last post that I wasn't stressing about it - and I'm still not. I'm going to apply for a job I used to have back in my "home" town. And while I'm aware that Palmy won't always be as fun as it was on my birthday, it still gives me more options of people to hang out with. And Wellington is still nice and close. If nothing else, this job will give me some more breathing room, and probably a chance to save a bit more money since it is generally cheaper to live there than Wellington. It does feel a little bit like going backwards, but it's not the worst job in the world. It's not even in the worst 3 jobs I've ever worked so that's something!
Friday, June 14, 2013
I'm falling for your eyes but they don't know me yet
So this time last week, I turned 30. It happened, I survived, I'm moving on.
I didn't freak out as much as I thought I would. The day before, I filled in a form at the tattooist and I had to write my age - I had a minor freak out that that was the last time I would write an age that started with a 2, but considering both guys that work there are in their 30s, it wasn't so painful.
30 does sound older. It sounds like I should have my shit sorted, be, at least, on the path to marriage and children and being sure of what I want career wise.
I have none of that.
Admittedly, I have my shit more sorted than I did 10 years ago. But that might not be saying a whole lot.
I think my biggest problem at the moment is too many options - which is kind of a nice thing to have as a problem. Canada? Japan? Aussie? Palmy? Wellington? Who knows where I will go next? And for once, I'm not really stressing about it (I mean, it's me so I am stressing a little, but much less than I would've been even just a year ago). The last few years have had a few changes - changing jobs/cities/study paths. And before each decision occurring, I have had mini panics. And it has all worked out (just like Jo always tells me it will - I do hate when she's always right!). So this time, I'm going to try to just go with the flow and see what happens and where life will take me. Amor Fati after all.
And one of the biggest things stressing me out for the last 6 months - the kiss with a very good friend of mine - I discovered the weekend that he does not even remember the majority of that night at all. All of the weirdness that I had been noticing, was actually just in my head and all of my own creation. Ridiculous how we can create something so real out of nothing. And now things are back to normal with someone who is among the handful of super important people in my life, which is awesome.
I have my current job for the next 6 weeks until my contract is up. A previous job I held in Palmy is being advertised, so deciding whether or not to apply, based on if I think I could actually handle the job again. It would be nice to be 'home' again with my friends and family though. As much as I do love Wellington - there does not appear to be a whole lot holding me here at the moment, but I may still apply for jobs here as well. If I do go overseas, it won't be until next year so in the meantime I will focus on getting healthy and trying to save up some money and just staying positive. I'm going to rock the thirties.
I didn't freak out as much as I thought I would. The day before, I filled in a form at the tattooist and I had to write my age - I had a minor freak out that that was the last time I would write an age that started with a 2, but considering both guys that work there are in their 30s, it wasn't so painful.
30 does sound older. It sounds like I should have my shit sorted, be, at least, on the path to marriage and children and being sure of what I want career wise.
I have none of that.
Admittedly, I have my shit more sorted than I did 10 years ago. But that might not be saying a whole lot.
I think my biggest problem at the moment is too many options - which is kind of a nice thing to have as a problem. Canada? Japan? Aussie? Palmy? Wellington? Who knows where I will go next? And for once, I'm not really stressing about it (I mean, it's me so I am stressing a little, but much less than I would've been even just a year ago). The last few years have had a few changes - changing jobs/cities/study paths. And before each decision occurring, I have had mini panics. And it has all worked out (just like Jo always tells me it will - I do hate when she's always right!). So this time, I'm going to try to just go with the flow and see what happens and where life will take me. Amor Fati after all.
And one of the biggest things stressing me out for the last 6 months - the kiss with a very good friend of mine - I discovered the weekend that he does not even remember the majority of that night at all. All of the weirdness that I had been noticing, was actually just in my head and all of my own creation. Ridiculous how we can create something so real out of nothing. And now things are back to normal with someone who is among the handful of super important people in my life, which is awesome.
I have my current job for the next 6 weeks until my contract is up. A previous job I held in Palmy is being advertised, so deciding whether or not to apply, based on if I think I could actually handle the job again. It would be nice to be 'home' again with my friends and family though. As much as I do love Wellington - there does not appear to be a whole lot holding me here at the moment, but I may still apply for jobs here as well. If I do go overseas, it won't be until next year so in the meantime I will focus on getting healthy and trying to save up some money and just staying positive. I'm going to rock the thirties.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Come and lay your bones down with me
Using my blog, to link to a blog, that I was led to by a different blog. It's Blog-ception....
It's an awesome article/blog/thing. And sums things up nicely. If you've ever felt suicidal or wondered what the freaking point is, and thought it would be easier than to burn out rather than fade away, this might resonate with you.
For now, I stay behind the yellow line at all times*
* metaphorically speaking, seeing as I almost never catch the train....
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
You've been raised in limitation but that glove never fit quite right
This is something I've been thinking about the last little while, so thought I'd write it out to see if it makes any more sense....
One thing I've noticed, especially in the last few years ('few' being subjective, and could possibly mean anything from 1 - 10 years), is how I react to interactions with guys.
I think that I spent a lot of my life, more so after I started high school, being teased by boys. I started gaining weight around this time, and high school is not a very forgiving time for someone who's chubby. I did have a strong male influence in my life in the form of my Dad, but that was pretty much it. My male cousins are pretty awesome, but we didn't spend a lot of time around them either.
At school, I was teased. Not by everyone, but by enough that it made quite the impact. And when I got home, I had my brother's taunting to deal with. In fact, I also recently re-met a guy from high school who partook in this - and I'm glad to report he is still a total douchebag...
Anyway. What's happened from this is that now, if a guy is nice to me or engages in friendly conversation or some such thing, I automatically start to read into it a little bit more. Only if they are single mind you, or I have no idea of their status (I've no intention of being a home wrecker). I'm just used to guys only talking to me in order to be horrible to me (even if it is from over 10 years ago), that anyone lovely takes me by surprise. And then my 'what-if?' kicks in and thinks that more could be going on, and that maybe they're interested. Experience tells me that 99% of the time, this is not the case, but apparently that doesn't mean much to my wayward imagination. My low self-confidence does eventually kick in and tell me not to be so silly, but for that day (or so) I have a lovely time in my head wondering about what could happen.
I really must remember that I'm now a grown up (debatable, but technically it's true since I'm almost 30), that inter-gender friendships are possible without any other agenda, and that people generally aren't as arsehole-ish as they were in high school (and it wasn't all of them after all).
One thing I've noticed, especially in the last few years ('few' being subjective, and could possibly mean anything from 1 - 10 years), is how I react to interactions with guys.
I think that I spent a lot of my life, more so after I started high school, being teased by boys. I started gaining weight around this time, and high school is not a very forgiving time for someone who's chubby. I did have a strong male influence in my life in the form of my Dad, but that was pretty much it. My male cousins are pretty awesome, but we didn't spend a lot of time around them either.
At school, I was teased. Not by everyone, but by enough that it made quite the impact. And when I got home, I had my brother's taunting to deal with. In fact, I also recently re-met a guy from high school who partook in this - and I'm glad to report he is still a total douchebag...
Anyway. What's happened from this is that now, if a guy is nice to me or engages in friendly conversation or some such thing, I automatically start to read into it a little bit more. Only if they are single mind you, or I have no idea of their status (I've no intention of being a home wrecker). I'm just used to guys only talking to me in order to be horrible to me (even if it is from over 10 years ago), that anyone lovely takes me by surprise. And then my 'what-if?' kicks in and thinks that more could be going on, and that maybe they're interested. Experience tells me that 99% of the time, this is not the case, but apparently that doesn't mean much to my wayward imagination. My low self-confidence does eventually kick in and tell me not to be so silly, but for that day (or so) I have a lovely time in my head wondering about what could happen.
I really must remember that I'm now a grown up (debatable, but technically it's true since I'm almost 30), that inter-gender friendships are possible without any other agenda, and that people generally aren't as arsehole-ish as they were in high school (and it wasn't all of them after all).
Saturday, May 18, 2013
If I hadn't assembled myself I'd have fallen apart by now
So this morning I did something for the very first time. Cross Fit.
From websites such as Nerd Fitness, and some blogs I follow, I've been hearing/reading loads about it for the last year. In my mind, its one of those things that I will give a go once I've lost a considerable amount of weight. That why, Ill be more likely to actually be able to do the workouts, and not feel totally out of place.
I've never been an overly fit or sporty person. As a kid I played netball, but I never really went out of my way to do exercise, and I've never felt at ease with any kind of physical activity - less so as I've gotten older.
I heard about a local cross fit gym from some people in a meetup group - they went to an intro day and loved it and ended up joining. And every time they've had intro classes since, it has been a weekend where I have been away up at Dads. So this time, I knew I was going to be in town, and decided to sign up.
In the last week leading up to it, I have almost emailed to cancel approximately 10 times. So nervous. Worried that I won't be able to do it, and worried that people will judge me or laugh at me I suppose to. (Admittedly, I don't think I've had anyone actually laugh at me at a gym before, but I do often feel judged - though surely the fact that I am a fat girl who does go to the gym should give me some credit!!).
What actually happened was quite something else.
Yes the workout was hard. They did help me out with options so that I wouldn't die, and mostly so that I could actually complete the workout (i.e. instead of doing box jumps onto a box that's knee height, which I could have maybe done 1 or 2 of, I had a stack of two large weight plates). We did some warm ups, and a 200m jog to the corner and back. And then the WOD (workout of the day). We did three sets of exercises ("box" jumps, push ups and lunges, with a different (decreasing) number of reps each time, and at the end of each set was the 200m jog. By the end of the first set, I was fucked. I jogged maybe 1/3 of the way, and had to walk to the rest of my 200m, and the other two times I had to just walk it. I was knackered. But I did finish it. And this is where it gets awesome. During my 2nd, and definitely my 3rd set, the few regulars from the gym were clapping and cheering us on. I heard my name being called out a few times. On my last walk, one of the ladies came out and walked it with me. When I came back in (lucky last), people were clapping and cheering. It was a pretty awesome feeling. Another woman pulled me aside and told me how proud she was of me, and how impressed she was that I had come along and done it - she had started in a similar state at the beginning of the year. She had me tearing up (admittedly, that can be pretty easy to do but not usually with complete strangers).
They were amazing. The most encouraging group of people. I have never felt so accepted before in a sport/fitness setting.
Unfortunately, it costs a lot and I still have a gym membership to see out already. But if I am staying in Wellington, then I will definitely be going back there. And at the very least, I know what I can do, and this should give me the drive to push myself harder at my regular gym classes.
Imagine, a fat kid like me, feeling at home in a gym setting. WTF?!
From websites such as Nerd Fitness, and some blogs I follow, I've been hearing/reading loads about it for the last year. In my mind, its one of those things that I will give a go once I've lost a considerable amount of weight. That why, Ill be more likely to actually be able to do the workouts, and not feel totally out of place.
I've never been an overly fit or sporty person. As a kid I played netball, but I never really went out of my way to do exercise, and I've never felt at ease with any kind of physical activity - less so as I've gotten older.
I heard about a local cross fit gym from some people in a meetup group - they went to an intro day and loved it and ended up joining. And every time they've had intro classes since, it has been a weekend where I have been away up at Dads. So this time, I knew I was going to be in town, and decided to sign up.
In the last week leading up to it, I have almost emailed to cancel approximately 10 times. So nervous. Worried that I won't be able to do it, and worried that people will judge me or laugh at me I suppose to. (Admittedly, I don't think I've had anyone actually laugh at me at a gym before, but I do often feel judged - though surely the fact that I am a fat girl who does go to the gym should give me some credit!!).
What actually happened was quite something else.
Yes the workout was hard. They did help me out with options so that I wouldn't die, and mostly so that I could actually complete the workout (i.e. instead of doing box jumps onto a box that's knee height, which I could have maybe done 1 or 2 of, I had a stack of two large weight plates). We did some warm ups, and a 200m jog to the corner and back. And then the WOD (workout of the day). We did three sets of exercises ("box" jumps, push ups and lunges, with a different (decreasing) number of reps each time, and at the end of each set was the 200m jog. By the end of the first set, I was fucked. I jogged maybe 1/3 of the way, and had to walk to the rest of my 200m, and the other two times I had to just walk it. I was knackered. But I did finish it. And this is where it gets awesome. During my 2nd, and definitely my 3rd set, the few regulars from the gym were clapping and cheering us on. I heard my name being called out a few times. On my last walk, one of the ladies came out and walked it with me. When I came back in (lucky last), people were clapping and cheering. It was a pretty awesome feeling. Another woman pulled me aside and told me how proud she was of me, and how impressed she was that I had come along and done it - she had started in a similar state at the beginning of the year. She had me tearing up (admittedly, that can be pretty easy to do but not usually with complete strangers).
They were amazing. The most encouraging group of people. I have never felt so accepted before in a sport/fitness setting.
Unfortunately, it costs a lot and I still have a gym membership to see out already. But if I am staying in Wellington, then I will definitely be going back there. And at the very least, I know what I can do, and this should give me the drive to push myself harder at my regular gym classes.
Imagine, a fat kid like me, feeling at home in a gym setting. WTF?!
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