My First Week at the Gym

20 Jan

 

This is not an inspirational story.

I’m not going to tell you how to get the will to start working out.

But this is my story, so sit tight!

 

I have lived the majority of my life as a plus-size human being. When I was still a small child (5 and 6), I was broad, but I wasn’t overweight. I didn’t have a belly or rolls or chubby arms. But then, as life goes, my thyroid stopped working. Doctors don’t know why I was so young, but the weight started piling on. While I grew taller with ease, I was well overweight in 5th grade. I weighed 150 lbs and I was 5’5″. My mom struggled to find me pants.

At my lowest adult weight, I weighed 175 lbs at 5’7″ when I was a sophomore in high school. I was working my ass off during my extracurricular activities and didn’t have the time to eat, so naturally, the weight fell off.

Now, I’m at my highest. Post-sophomore year I remained at about 235 until the death of my father. Given the holidays at the time and the stress, I gained 15 lbs. Then another 10 lbs, and was sitting pretty at 250. That didn’t really change until early last year, when I could no longer afford my medication for my thyroid, the doctor’s visits to adjust my levels, and the lab tests to test my blood levels.

10 lbs…

20 lbs…

30 lbs…

I now sit at 280 lbs and had no way in sight on how to change that.

But then I got sick for the first time in like 5 years and made myself go to the doctor for antibiotics (ear infection). He didn’t prescribe me any, but he did kindly refill my prescription. I bit the bullet and paid for a 3 month supply I couldn’t really afford. My mood and energy levels improved greatly! Life was no longer as dismal an existance.

I felt myself listening to music in my car that was just pumping me up. I wanted to do THINGS. And ALL OF THEM.

Then, a few weeks later, I went to see a movie by myself courtesy of T-Mobile Tuesdays and got a free burrito courtesy of a friend. I sat down and I watched Moana, which now sits squarely in my top 3 favorite Disney movies. I felt so inspired and motivated to be a better me. I got in my car surged with new-found motivation and turned on some Eminem. By the time I got home, I was so pumped that I decided it was time to join a gym, cut my hair, stop drinking soda, and wake up early enough to do my makeup and hair before work.

There is nothing I’ve felt previously that I can compare this feeling to. There is no “you just have to want it badly enough”. There is no “say you’re going to do it, then DO IT”. I just reached a moment in my life that felt right. That felt like it was time. I don’t have to find the willpower to go to the gym. It’s just what I do. I barely have to resist drinking soda; I just drink water.

From personal experience, there is no amount of will I could have mustered to get myself into a gym. Or to run.

Yeah. I’m using the treadmill. And with some little encouragement from Macklemore and Eminem, I power through the tough moments. It’s been a week and I don’t really feel different and I’m sure I don’t look different, but I can run for a full minute! I didn’t think I could. I ran for 10 minutes yesterday! Who knew?

Now I just need to find an inhaler. One part of always being the fat kid means that when your chest hurts when you run, the doctors just think it’s because you’re overweight…not because you have exerise-induced asthama.

Practicing My Prose: Story 1, The Kiss

8 Jan

In an effort to practice my prose, particularly first person narrative, I am going to be telling some stories. Here is the first story, chosen from a list of questions posed to me, simply because it was the easiest to write about. Here is the story of my first kiss (a true story, I might add)…

 

The Kiss

 

I’m a smart girl. I’ve always been a smart girl. I know good and well what and where this could lead to, and that is exactly why I’m doing it. If anyone asks me tomorrow or next week, I’ll play none the wiser. Maybe I’ll even believe myself then, but for now, please. I pull out the small, but quite heavy, Nokia from my pocket. The Nokia that isn’t even mine. Half a pre-paid minute worth of text is all it takes.

“u left ur tape in my car…im driving around…do u want me to bring it to u?”

Yes. I’m driving around in a car I’m not even licensed to drive.

Nothing good happens after 2 am, they say. The same must be true after 10 pm in high school.

Midnight. It’s midnight and I’m texting a boy because I want to return his tape. No, not that. I’m texting a boy because I want to spend time with a boy. I’m driving around in a car I’m not even licensed to drive at midnight texting a boy because I want to return his tape. But these things haven’t turned into anything other than time before, so I shouldn’t hope for anything this evening. But it’s midnight. And I am. And I shouldn’t. But I am.

The Nokia chirps. “ok just come in when u get here”

Just come in? Just come in? What does that mean – just come in? What am I even walking into? I pop a cherry jolly rancher in my mouth. Dan, 19, from Charlotte, NC told Cosmo that the best kiss he ever had was when the girl who kissed him had just eaten peaches. Peaches isn’t something you eat at midnight. No. Cherry jolly rancher will have to do. I pull into his driveway and turn off my car. As I open my car door, I breathe a sigh of relief as I notice him coming out of the front door. Black t-shirt. White gym shorts. This is already nervewracking enough without having to go into someones parent’s house, a house I’ve never been in. I grab the tape and I get out of my car and walk over to his doorstep.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Not much. You?”

“Oh…just driving around being bored. Here’s your tape.”

“Thanks. Want to come in?”

Well, I hadn’t planned on coming inside, but don’t mind if I do. Maybe I hadn’t planned, but I sure had hoped.

“Sure.”

The house is dark and unnvervingly quiet. More than likely because it’s midnight. It’s midnight and I’m in a boys house. A boy that I like. Because I needed to bring him his tape.

Without any other place to sit, we sit on his bed. And we talk. I’m sure we talk, but the words aren’t sticking and I’m not even sure what we are talking about. But I know we are talking. I initiate contact first: a simple poke to his side, but it’s plenty enough to get the reaction I needed. He flinches. I do it again. His body bows in ticklishness.Then, with more voracity than I, he grabs my sides and begins tickling me. I shriek and laugh and roll and when he stops I’m on my back, each others various body parts intertwined in a way that results from a tickle fight. I love being tickled.

My laughter dissolves into a smile as I look up at him. We stare at each other for an eternity. Jolly rancher help me. He brings his face close to mine and slowly kisses my upper lip.

Is that how it is supposed to happen?

He makes his way down one side of my mouth and across the bottom. This doesn’t feel right. This doesn’t feel right at all. Is this really what people get so excited over? I open my eyes as he moves around my mouth and I stare up at the ceiling.

 

Wait. My eyes are open. I close them abruptly and squeeze them tight.

I feel his hand underneath my tank top, working its way toward my butter-yellow bra and my 17-year-old chest. This moment went from mediocre to uncomfortable really fast. What do I say? Should I let him keep going? As he reaches the top of my lip and the bottom of my bra, I pivot away and teasingly say “Get out of there!”

He pulls back quickly and apologizes. Oh no! I didn’t say it teasingly enough! Get out of there? Who says that?

I’m mortified. And that kiss was terrible. Or at least completely different than I thought kisses should be. Maybe Dan from North Carolina was right. That sure wasn’t anything like peaches.

I get into my car and reflect. I must’ve said something to get here, but what? I pull out the not-mine-Nokia and think of what to say as I drive the few blocks home.

I’m going to get teased so much when I tell my friends what I said. I just won’t tell them. It shouldn’t be hard to keep that detail hidden.

Oh, but it was…

fin

 

Did you feel any emotions when reading my story and if so, what emotions? Were you able to visualize the situation? Did you feel connected to the narrator (me)? Did I capture the awkwardness of youth? How do you feel that I didn’t include any names? Did you feel anything was too vague or had too much detail?

My goal here is to improve my writing, so feedback is extremely appreciated!

Help Needed!

25 Oct

Hello folks.

I have a dismal update for you all.

2 days ago, the engine on my car exploded. Now, I need to buy a car because I do not have the ability to pay to fix my old car (and at this point, is just isn’t a good choice anyway).

Please…I am trying to do this by this weekend because I don’t have the ability to continue to get to work.

If you can donate, please do. Anything helps! If you can’t donate, please share. I am trying to make it to the 2000 dollar mark.

Thank you!

Donate here: http://www.gofundme.com/2grfuuc

That Time I Had to Go to the ER…

13 Aug

So, what happened to me that I’ve alluded to in several different places?

Well…I got bit by a dog.

On Sunday night, my roommate accidentally left the baby gate dividing the upstairs (where I live) and the downstairs (where she lives) open. Not usually an issue, so I do the same routine I always do and call my dog upstairs.

Now, I didn’t see the fight start, so I can’t say for certain what caused it, but our dogs started fighting. Her dog tends to be a little standoffish, so when my dog gets too close or tries to play, he snaps. This has led to a couple low-key fights already.

This time, however, I think it was the perfect storm for a larger fight. My dog had an ear infection, I was extremely stressed, her other dog was in heat, and put all of that in a cramped space and you have a dog fight.

I know better, but because I couldn’t get through the door to get behind my dog, I had to try from the front end. I went to smack my dog from the side, and when they turned, I ripped my hand back to get it out of the way, but it was too late.

I, actually, think I got some molar action in.

I suffered 5 lacerations, one of which spanned the entire width of my finger, and broken bone. I have stitches in 4, and my ring and middle finger are bandaged up and will be for the next few weeks. Definitely, the most pain I’ve ever been in.

So…completely my fault, and the dogs are fine. What a terrible start to the week, huh?

The Restraining Order Chronicles

11 Aug

It was Monday morning and I was getting to venture out for the day to try to lighten my spirits after an unfortunate trip to the ER the night prior. I heard a light knock on the door, and while I’m generally inclined to ignore unannounced visitors, I decided to answer on the off chance that the police officer from the night before needed more information.

When I opened the door, there was a strange woman standing on my doorstep with a white plastic trash bag filled with what looked like clothes. She immediately and without invitation began telling me her life story – how her significant other was a meth addict and abusive, how her child was taken away – the ramblings of someone obviously stressed. While I listened patiently, I knew she was surely a runaway from an abusive home looking for a helping hand.

I was right about one part.

She continued to ramble on about how her child had been given to her significant others family, which resulted in a restraining order against her. She explained she had to buy her child, Tracker, school clothes but the restraining order prevented her from giving them to him. She said she didn’t know anyone in the area other than church people, who, according to her, were unfit for the task of dropping the clothes off because of their large numbers of children.

Wanting to help, I obliged and took down her name, her son’s name, the location of the home at which to drop the clothes, and the guardian’s name. She continued carrying on about her other 4 children and their father and having to buy them school clothes. Of course, amidst the blabber, she did find a moment or two to thank me.

I took the white trash bag she’d been holding, and closed the door. As I walked back through my house, I got a sinking feeling in my gut.

Who in their right minds gets in the middle of a restraining order? And who even knows if this lady is in her right mind…she is just as likely to be on meth as anyone with all that rambling.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that I completely regretted my decision to help. I heard another tap on the door, and was reluctant to answer it; I had enough crazy for one morning. By the time I mustered up the will to engage this woman again, I moved around the corner only to see her walk across the front of my apartment and look into the window well into the basement. Sinking feeling aside…I now felt worried!

I stepped back around the corner for fear she’d see me, and when I popped back around it, she was walking toward my door again. I answered it, reluctantly, but no one was there. I immediately locked all the door and windows, including the back patio gate. After all, what’s to say that she wasn’t out for something more than help violating a restraining order.

It’s been 3 days, and I decided I no longer wanted to be involved, so a trip to the police department was in order. I had no desire to get this woman, “Tamera like camera”, in trouble, but I also didn’t want to be third-party harassing these people. Alas…the police department couldn’t do anything, and I couldn’t just NOT do anything with the clothes, so onward I went to the Railroad Diagonal.

Tamera like camera had given me two different houses to visit, so I parked my car in between both. It appeared that one of the people I was directed to speak with was sitting outside, so I politely approached and addressed her. I’m not sure if she was deaf, blind in her good eye (the other one had a patch over it), ignoring me, on heavy medication, or all of the above, but all of my attempts to get her attention, which numbered several, were futile. I didn’t even get a glance from 8 feet away.

As it was starting to rain, I trotted across the way to the other home and knocked on the door, first lightly, then harder. No answer.

I set the bag down, which had been labeled, and got into my car and left. If they have any questions, the note I pinned on got ripped off and fell in one-eyed Patty’s yard. Maybe she should’ve answered me.

 

What is something you immediately regretted helping someone with? How did you resolve it?

Off to the Emergency Room…

10 Aug

Friends and family,

I just discovered this week that I needed to ALSO replace my coolant recovery tank in my car. Just before I was prepared to buy the part and put it in myself (so that I didn’t have to pay an expensive mechanic), I landed myself in the ER with a hand injury requiring stitches and a few trips to orthopedics because I broke a finger, too. Now, the money I had to put into trying to fix part of my car is all going to medical bills.

Again, the car takes a back seat to other expenses.

Anything you can give will help, no matter how small and insignificant it may be to you. If you can’t give, please share so that I might be able to fulfill my need of a reliable car.

Thanks! <3

 

Donate to my GoFundMe here or share this post (or this link, or BOTH: gofund.me/2grfuuc)

Black Cat, Blue Sea Award

29 Jul

I was nominated by Lynn B for the Black Cat, Blue Sea Award.

I’m so grateful that as far as I’ve been and come, that I have such loyal readers and followers to nominate me and think of me in such a way! Lynn is one of the top contributors to my blog, and is extremely supportive in every way! I’m so appreciative.

The rules are very much simple:

•Anybody nominated can nominate up to seven other bloggers.

•Anybody nominated answers three questions. The questions you ask while nominating can be any three questions. If any of the questions asked are offending or simply do not want to be answered, the nominee does not have to answer them to earn the award.

 

Without further ado…

 

1. Do you have any tattoos? If so, what are they of? If you do not but want one, what do you want and why? If you don’t have nor want tattoos, why not?

I do not currently have any tattoos, but I have several on my list of things that I want. The struggle has been two-fold…one being finding a place on my body that I like that the tattoo will look good, but also affording the said tattoo. My first tattoo I want to be a rememberance of my father, so I want a red/yellow/orange watercolor phoenix on my foot, with splatters of blue throughout (blue was his favorite color). In the outline of the bird, I want the words “give ’em hell, Annie” written becasue that is what he would always tell me when I was fired up about something. I also really want tattoos on my wrist of the Alice in wonderland bottle that says “drink me” and the cookies that say “eat me” because Alice in Wonderland is a book and translations that I love and are very close to who I am. I also kind of want a tiny tattoo that is symbolic of being a valkyrie to keep me grounded while I do my job and remind me of all the tough decisions I’ve had to make.

2. If you had three wishes, what would they be?

This question is always so difficult, because I would love to wish for abstract things. Being the logical person I am, though, I know that the consequences of such abstract ideas of “happiness” are probably not worth it.

So,  I think I will say my first wish would be money, because as you all should know by now, it is something that I struggle with, but with a vast enough amount of money, not only would I be able to get where I need to be to feel secure (car, house, paying off debt…that is really all I want), I could also ensure that my family was secure, and my close friends.

My second wish would be good health mentally and physically, because try as I might to be healthy, I know I fall short.

My third wish would be…probably that (having money already taken care of, however that looks) I had more time to do hobbies and hang out with friends and family.

3. What is your favorite musical group and/or song?

My taste in music is so diverse, that I have 3 favorite bands all tied for 1st. Those are Blink-182, Eminem, and Disturbed. All of my songs really change, but my favorite Blink songs are probably First Date, All the Small Things, and Bored to Death. My favorite Eminem Songs are probably Rock Bottom, Lose Yourself, and…I don’t even know. But those two definitely. My favorite Disturbed songs are probably Down with the Sickness, 10,000 Fists in the Air, and I really like that cover they did recently…Sound of Silence?

 

With that, I’m going to go ahead and nominate just two folks who are very dedicated to their posts (much moreso than I).

Buddy71

QuirkyIntrovert

 

And my questions are…

  1. Why do you write, and what keeps you writing?
  2. Other than writing and the focus of your blogs, what are you passionate about?
  3. Do you believe in bigfoot/sasquatch/yeti/etc. and why or why not?