Decisions, decisions.....

Part of my own personal curse is this feeling that I am really only as good as the job that I do, and I must exhude that same feeling, because I can't seem to get ahead. The job that I have now is really great, I enjoy it, I like the people I work with, and I make less money than anyone there, in spite of the fact that I work just as hard, take whatever shifts I have to, my sales are really good, and yet I haven't seen any chance to move up, even though I have expressed that. I was gone for a couple weeks because of my little mental setback, but they welcomed me back with open arms. It was great. Of course I'm not getting a raise, now I'm not sure that anyone even takes me seriously. I would love to stay at this job, but since I was hospitalized my priorities have shifted a little. It's not really that I want to quit, and have to go out and find a new job and start all over again, I just feel sort of stupid for hanging on the way that I have. I was under the impression that the job I have now would be very temporary, then I would have the opportunity to move up. Everyone else at that same meeting has either moved up or quit. I feel like a damned doormat. My wonderful husband sees that I'm not as happy with it as I was before. He's my biggest supporter, and tells me that if I am not happy I should leave, he's even given me an application for a different job, where I would be happy for sure, but I'm holding back on it because I don't want anyone at my current job to be mad at me for leaving. I'm so torn, I really have no idea what to do. I don't know what to do, I know I can make more money somewhere, but how do I leave when maybe there might be a chance that at some time in the future I might have the opportunity to do something more than what I'm doing now.... God I sound like an idiot. Most people would have (and already have) left, I just really have a fear of hurting someones feelings, or disappointing anyone, leaving me wide open for hurt feelings and disappointment. Well, for today anyway, I'm going to go, I'm going to do my best, just like every other day, and maybe I'll make a decision later.... it's so effed in the a.
On that happy note, my friend Stacy came to town to see me, and it was really great to have someone else around, it's good to have friends like her. Her daughter is beautiful and getting so big. It was really fun to see her with Logan, they played really well together. (oooooh is there a future there???? I don't knoooooow) ha ha. See there is always something to laugh about!

Boy drama... aka not sorry I don't have girls!

Remember in grade school how there was always some big thing going on that was seriously going to end the world? In our house it happens about once a week that one of the boys isn't friends with someone because his friend said this, or did that, and they would never be friends again.... until tomorrow. My best friend in grade school and I fought like that daily! Who had the better clothes, the better toys, the better haircut, and so on. There was also the issue of "you can't have a crush on that new kid on the block because I do". You can't even imagine how many times the world ended when I was 10! We would plot and scheme and plan all sorts of different things to do. We even started our own club called "The Jean Jacket Club" and you could only be a member if you were our friend and had a jean jacket. Believe me, we still laugh about it to this day. We had sleepovers at my gramma's house, at her house and my house, but I always really liked the one's at my gramma's, because we didn't have siblings bugging us! We did all of these things while fighting like sisters. That was obviously a long time ago, and as years passed we lost contact. I always felt like it wasn't fair because her family must have been rich, and we always had a friend/rivalry sort of relationship. Jump ahead to the present, and now we are friends again, minus the rivalry, and she has become one of my biggest supporters. We lead very different lives, very far apart from one another, and somehow have managed to finally find a middle ground where we can just be friends. It must have something to do with that whole adulthood thing. I hesitate to say grown up, just because I refuse to grow up! From the moment I started on my diet, all through the worst of my depression, up until now, this same friend has been one of my biggest cheerleaders, and I find it really amazing that life can take you in so many circles.
This, of course, leads me to why I'm so happy I have boys. They will come home from school with the same sort of stories. He did this, he said that, we'll never be friends again, but the difference is that there isn't the sneaky sort of crap that girls resort to. It's never about who is fatter, or who has more stuff, or who is a nerd for whatever reason, it's just little things that happened while they were playing. Boys are more forgiving (they also smell worse, maybe that's the answer). They feel slighted, but they find a way to make it work in spite of angry feelings. If I had girls and they had best friends that acted anything like we did I'm pretty sure I would lose my mind, and that's not even counting the fact that if I had any girls they would be just like me, which, let's be honest, could be a real problem!!! If I had to deal with the type of hormonal crap that I went through... and put my parents through, someone might not survive! (I don't wanna go to prison, I'm delicate.) So Mom, I am very sorry for being a crazy bitch. In my adulthood I can see such a huge difference between how I acted and how the boys act. Wyatt has so much of my personality that it's a little scary, but at least he just gets pissed and moves on. He doesn't have the "make mom feel like shit for a week for not washing your favorite shirt" gene. After all that has happened in the last couple weeks I can tell you honestly that I couldn't be luckier in the kid department. It's a little sad that it took so much trauma to make life seem successful, but I do, and it's really wonderful. I say all of this now, a couple years before Junior High, but I really do think that the outlook is good! So if you are reading this, and you are frustrated with your kids, look back on your own childhood, and reflect a little on what was going on, and be greatful for those really awful times, because later, they will be laughable, and trivial, and the present will make up for all of it. It is called the present for a reason you know!

Trials and Tribulations of being a nerd...

When I was in grade school all I wanted in the whole world was to be one of the popular girls. I had a best friend from about 1st grade through 5th or 6th, and she was friends with a lot of the popular girls, but it never seemed to carry over to me. At least that was my perception. Looking back, of course, a lot of them did try and my best friend really tried, but I was trying too hard. I guess I really began to understand that about my junior year in high school. I had this amazing group of friends that weren't the popular kids, and had more fun than I ever had in my life. I have also become the fun person that people really want to be around, I make friends all the time, it's amazing! It carried over into adulthood when alot of the very same kids I tried to be friends with became friendly with me. I was weird, and I knew it. I'm not really sure what it was that made me weird, but I was and it took me a lot of time to figure that out. Part of my problem at that age was that when I had a friend I wanted to be the only friend, and have all the friend time focused on me. To me a group of friends meant that I wasn't an important one. Wow, it's truly amazing the amount of things I missed out on just because I couldn't share. It definately carried on at home too. I have a really special relationship with my mom, and I think I felt cheated that my brother and sister took up time too, especially when mental illness began to play a role, and the focus had to be more positioned on whatever sibling needed the most help at the time. I was angry, how in the world could it be fair that they got to be the center of attention just because they were sick, or struggling. I really do understand much better now, and I'm glad that I can see it for what it really was, because I feel more poised to take on any situations like that that may arise in the future. Really, considering the history of my family it's a very real possibility that one of my boys could be facing the same fate. I think that I'm beginning to have the tools to work with it if it does come up.
So today is the day that I go back to work, and I know I'm going to be looked at differently, which I don't really want, but I understand. I have been completely honest with my bosses and coworkers about how this all came about. I've decided that it's not worth being ashamed about, and it certainly isn't worth the judgement and all of the rumors that can start. I work with mostly women, and that whole thing can get out of hand! I'm just going to focus on the goals that I have set up for myself and charge ahead, what anyone thinks is just their issue. It may be easier said than done, but I'm ready to answer questions. The one thing that I'm really not too ready for is pity. I don't want that. It's not worth it for anyone to feel that way about me, this is an issue that I should have addressed years ago, but I was so afraid of people looking at me like the poor sick girl, and I didn't want to turn out like other people that I knew who always had whispers and pointed fingers, and someone always watching them everytime they fall. Instead I waited until I was so far gone that being forced to get help was my only option. I look at people with mental illness a lot differently now. The majority of people that I met in the unit were just like me, perfectly normal (insert laugh track here) but in desperate need of what I like to call a vacation from reality. It's no Hawaii, but there was time to think, and that's something I have never really taken! I don't remember a time when I could just be alone and enjoy silence. I've always taken the noise as just a normal part of life, well having 3 boys running around there is no such thing as quiet! I have requested about 1 hour a day to just sit in quiet, maybe reflect on some things, maybe nap... who knows. All I know is that 2 weeks ago I couldn't have even asked for fear I would be putting someone out of their way. Really the cool thing now is that I don't quite feel so stressed when it is noisy and I'm not finding myself stressing about things that are out of my control. That feels really good, so wish me luck on my first day back, and I'm sure I will be writing soon!

A little history...

I'm sure that when I was a kid I was a pretty happy one, my parents loved us and worked very hard to make sure we were well taken care of. Of course this was all after the death of my wife beating sperm donor of a father. Yeah, I've spent the last 28 years feeling like my life as an adult would be dependant on being nothing like that horrible man. I really have no contact with his side of the family even, by choice on both sides I believe, as I'm pretty sure they resented the fact that my mom got married to my dad and he adopted us. I have memories of some strange things from those first couple of years of my life. One was good, the rest would terrify a normal adult, and you know what, I'm going to go ahead and share some of that. (I'm sorry mom, but this needs to be done)
I was never abused or molested by this man, or anyone in his family, but I vividly remember him hitting my mom for buying the wrong kind of pot pies. I remember a lamp being thrown, and a rifle being pointed directly at my mom and I. I remember feeling tense a lot, and hiding in a big green chair that we used to have. I remember the night he died and feeling so scared that I wasn't going to have a family anymore. The police officer tried to teach me how to whistle in the car ride to my gramma's just to keep my mind off of all of it, then we got to my gramma's and everyone was crying, and although I knew what was going on, I was way too young to understand.
That's just sort of the quick rundown, I have 1 good memory, but oddly enough everyone in that memory is dead but me, and about 2 weeks ago I could easily have joined them. I could have left my kids with a lifetime of wondering if it was their fault that I was gone. Not my smartest move, that's for damned sure! I can't imagine my kids being my age and having such strong feelings about me being gone, I know the way it hurts, and I know how it feels to hate someone that isn't even there. That whole forgive and forget thing doesn't work that way!
Now that I'm home I feel like I need to start a different routine. I'm excited to get things going again, but maybe part of the reason I was struggling so much is because I've left myself wide open for failure. Maybe it's because of all the unanswered questions from when I was little, or maybe I'm just really lazy, I have no idea. I do know that it takes a lot for me to really stay involved in something and it has caused problems in every thing I've ever started. I don't feel sorry for myself, but I did need to let it out there, because if I don't then I leave myself open to stay exactly the same. There is only so much medication can do, I have to be willing to open myself up and at the very least accept the things in my past that have always been pushed to the back of my mind.
While I was in the unit, I met a really nice girl about my age, we'll call her Becky. Becky was checked in because she had a breakdown and chased her hubby down with a 2 by 4, ripped a door off of it's hinges, and had she been left to finish what she started, she probably would have killed someone! Now this girl is little, she might weigh 110 soaking wet, and has the sweetest personality I've ever seen, my mom totally fell in love with her, but it just goes to show that anyone can fall into sadness and pain, hell, really. (yes I don't believe in hell, I'm using it metaphorically). She really helped my realize that beauty is something that we all have and we can easily lose track of, so my goal for today is to not dwell on the past, and just make the absolute best out of everything that I have. I may not have much money, but I'm the richest woman alive.

Hey! Amemba me????

I want to appologize to anyone who has been looking forward to reading this blog. Me and my whopping 13 followers haven't had much touch lately, and I have decided that today is the day to begin to let you all understand why. When I started this it was sort of a mix of self encouragement, and a way to hold myself accountable when I screwed up. It really did work for a while, I felt the encouragement coming from friends, and it really helped keep me on track with my weight loss and excercise (which on it's own is a type of therapy). Then, true to Jamie form I tapered off, more and more until I pretty much just gave up. Don't get me wrong, I love writing, but this just lost the importance it held for me at first. It wasn't just the blog either, I lost interest in everything, this, work, tv, kids, hubby, pretty much everything I loved. I kept going about my daily routine in this sort of robotic way, even leaving the majority to my sister, and basically doing nothing. I might go to the gym once a week, I might cook a crappy dinner every now and then, and then I would turn into crazy super woman and be happy with everything and wait on my husband and kids, get things done, do everything I could to keep things going well, all the while getting no fulfillment out of it. John knew I wasn't ok, and everytime he asked I gave him the generic "everything is fine" answer. I had no way of really coping with feeling so down, so I started drinking a lot again, followed by spending copious amounts of money on groceries because I was convinced that my kids would starve. I can spend 1000 bucks and have nothing to show for it. Pretty much like everything I do, I put my heart into it, and in the end I have nothing to show for it. I'm what you might call lazy, at least that is what I thought. I charged along in the same routine, feeling less and less accomplished everyday, holding in all of this pain that I have probably been harboring my whole life. I have been trying so hard not to have the same mental issues that run in my family, that when I finally broke, I really broke. I didn't think that I was ever going to be able to dig myself out of this painful hole, and I thought it might not be a bad idea to just take a couple bottles of sleeping pills, drink a bunch of whatever booze I could find and just die. I'm serious when I say that I was within hours of trying. John asked me what was going on, why I couldn't just be happy, ever, and I bawled. There was nothing left, I'm 32, no career, no respect from my kids or my husband, not even able to make enough money at my piddly job to help pay bills. I don't know that I have ever cried that way. Suddenly painful memories from the last 25 years of my life flooded in and I panicked. My sister called the ER, and off I went. I am mortified that it went this far, I was so sure that I would be able to take care of myself and no one would ever have to know that sadness that kept me from being anything better than what I was. I'm supposed to be the strong one, the one who can keep it all together, and now I have a whole team of people watching and critisizing me, and making judgement calls as to whether I would be a danger to myself or others. (guess what????? I was! Shocker) Basically I spent 2 weeks in a psyche ward, the very last place I ever thought I would be. Later when things calm down to a dull roar I will explain about my adventures in the cuckoo's nest, but for now I will tell you I am elated that it happened. I had been misdiagnosed as just depressed before and the meds were doing more harm than good. Yep, I'm bipolar, and I have post traumatic stress disorder, and I was told it was a surprise that I had made it this long without doing anything to myself. So, for today, the good news is I'm home, John is making sure that I have a little time to readjust, and I'm pretty sure I will be ok. Thanks to everyone for all of the blind support, it was incredibly helpful and I promise to explain more next time!!!

Time flies...

I have never in my life felt like such crap. Over the last few weeks I have had this crazy lung thing going on, and I can't believe how rundown I feel. I just today, worked out for the first time in a couple weeks, and I made it less than 20 minutes. That sucks bad dude... (I miss Wyatt, borrowed dude from him.) I am, as of this morning, 8lbs heavier than I was a few weeks ago, and I had already plateaued there. I kind of feel like I gave up hope altogether. Ok, not really, I just let the ship take on a little water, and it is all centered in the front... Only 8lbs and I feel sick about myself! Fact is I would love to go workout, and have that precious hour to myself, but I can't breathe, it hurts so bad, especially when I'm tired!!! This infection crap is for the birds, and I feel bad because I simply don't have the energy to do all the things that I would like to do, I mean John is officially home! I would love nothing more than to make the house nice, and make dinners nice, and just make it peaceful while he settles into home life, but I just feel shitty. (yes Mom, I am calling the doc on monday!) Wyatt got this garbage too, but he ended up in the hospital, and not here, with me, where I am comfortable, and I can see him, and snuggle him, but with his dad who is 5 hours away. Don't get me wrong, he couldn't be in better hands, that's not the issue. The issue is that I can't be there with my baby, when he needs me. Imagine my surprise when I found out he has asthma, and that was the real problem... How in the hell did I not know this??? I mean, I'm with him all the time, you would think that by 9 years old I would have seen some sign that he may have it. You would think that I would not be so selfish as to ignore the one thing about my amazing boy that really needed attention, especially since his step-brother has asthma, and I know what to look for with him! I really don't know how I missed it, but I will spend my life making up for it. He is so amazing, and I hope this is the only time I have to worry this way! His dad was awesome about it too, kept me informed, sent pics, and even had the doc call me to keep me accurately updated. I couldn't be more thankful that Wyatt's dad and I have been able to maintain a healthy relationship. At any rate, the little guy is fine, still some issues to deal with, but collectively we will all make sure he is fine!!! Hooray big people!
Have I ever mentioned that I have a wonderful husband? Why, yes sir (or ma'am, calm down feminist) I have this wonderful husband, and as of tomorrow, he will have been my husband for one whole year!!!! (gasp! cough!wheeze... just this lung thing, calm down!) He has really made me feel like a lucky woman. He gets me, we get eachother, which, to be honest is a little scary seeing as how neither one of us is balanced in the least! We laugh at eachother, we fight with eachother, and we just take care of eachother. We have found a way to meet in the middle, even though in a lot of ways we are so vastly different. We have found ways to support eachother, even when we weren't sure how, we have found ways to love eachother when we weren't sure how. We honestly love eachother, in spite of ourselves, and through all that my friends, I have found happiness. In our odd little, definately not normal way, we have found a way to love eachother, (including family and friends!) and i can truly say I'm happy. I write this now, while John is at the gym and I am feeling like shit... Through sickness and in health... Happy 1st Anniversary baby!!!! Thank you for this beautiful, crazy life! I love you!!!!!

Falling off the wagon...

One thing I have never really been good at is completing anything. I have quit or backed off of every single endeavor to better myself that I have ever started, from band in grade school, all the way up to this very blog. You may be asking yourself "why would Jamie stop things like that? She is so ________ (insert positive adjective here) you would think she would be inclined to make it known that she is even more sparkling than we all believe..." Ok, maybe that was a little over the top, but I can read minds, so I just wrote down what you were thinking. But, alas my friends, I am a quitter. 6 months ago I was so motivated, so ready to change my life for the better, and now here I am, slowly letting myself fall back in to old habits. A little more than 2 weeks ago I weighed 35 lbs less than when I started all of this, I felt pretty good, my self esteem was doing not as well as I would like, but it wasn't bad. My birthday was awesome, I was surrounded by family, and friends and I partied like a rockstar. John came home the next night, and things were really looking up. Then without warning everything fell apart. I have been falling back into depression for a while, but it sort of swallowed me alive all at once. The combination of my kids going off to their respective summer homes, me getting older, John changing jobs, and contracting pneumonia reared it's ugly head. CONFESSION TIME! I have been a total glutton for the last couple weeks, and all that time that I spent losing weight, I undid a third of it in a very short matter of time. I had been stuck at around 190 for about a month, it was my own fault because I was cheating on a regular basis, but the last couple weeks have been all about stuffing my face with as much crap as I could find. Crackers, chips, chocolate, fat, fat and more fat. I wasn't even doing it because I wanted to, it was at least 85% emotional eating, coupled with being sick and not being able to stick it out at the gym because I'm way too exhausted from being sick and depressed. So why, you may ask, have I come to my senses now? Well, yesterday I went to see the doctor for the second time in a week to try to shake this stupid pneumonia, and she mentioned that I had stayed the same weight since the last time I saw her, 3 months ago. Truth be told, I just gained ten pure-fat pounds in the last 2 weeks, my blood pressure is up, which she said could be because I'm sick, but I really think that gaining so much in such a short amount of time may have contributed to it. I see the vicious cycle starting over again, depression leading to weight-gain, leading to depression, leading to weight-gain. Luckily I have this really wonderful husband who, inspite of me, is willing to hang on and be supportive, no matter what. He hasn't said a word about how I look, because he knows that it would only be painful coming from him at this point in time. After speaking to the doctor yesterday, I talked with him about it, and he said that he was glad that I had other reinforcement, because he didn't want to hurt me. Believe it or not, that was one of the nicest things he could have said to me at the time, and all at once I realized that if I don't shape up, I'm only putting myself in the position to lose it all. Not because I think that if I gain the weight back he would leave me, but because I know how I function, and I would be more angry, less inclined to do anything at all, and in the end not really worth much to anyone. I can't do that to him, and I certainly can't do that to my boys, and most of all, I can't do that to myself. When I started this whole healthy lifestyle thing my emotions were pretty fragile, the only reason that I didn't try to kill myself was because I knew that my kids would be alone, and ultimately seperated, and that was the last thing that I could have wanted for them. I was only about a step away from even caring about that, and how I feel now isn't all that far off from those feelings. The moral of the story here folks, is that I need to shape my shit up! I felt so incredible for a while there, and now that I fell off the wagon I feel like I've been chewed up and spit out by some dirty dark monster. No more I tell you!!! I'm going to win this battle if it kills me, and the knowlege that I will live longer for my family, for myself is going to be the ultimate motivation. NO MORE FATTY McFATFAT!