I’m Baaackkk

I apologize.

I have  hardly had time to shower this past week and half so blogging was not a priority… I know, I know I should reconsider my priorities.

One may wonder why I couldn’t even write a post when I had a whole week home. Well that wasn’t exactly a ‘break’. I spent my days doing homework, running as much as I can, and fitting in memory making with my family. Below are some highlights from home:

Perhaps this view and environment helped me with my productivity while at home.

There was a Thanksgiving accident!  The cranberry sauce took a tumble. Don’t worry we made enough for a village so we still had enough to feed a family of five for three days.

I introduced my mom to the world of Quinoa. Neither one of us are coming back. I have probably eaten quinoa atleast once a day for two weeks now. And I am not ashamed.

Um hello lover! First smartphone ever and its an Iphone. With Bling. Boom.

This couldn’t have come at a better time since one of my students had asked me about my old phone: ‘Ms Johnson did you get your cellphone when you were in 4th grade.’

I owned my to-do list and I am actually feeling relatively calm right now.

Best feeling in the world is to physically cross things off your list. Sometimes doing it just once was not enough 🙂

It feels more than nice to be a head of things and I am looking forward to being back to having time to post.

The weekend was everything you need after working your bootay off for two weeks straight. There was a considerable amount of drinking on Friday at a Christmas Party with the girls from my class

And the rest of the weekend spent with the boyfriend, remembering how much we love each other. Two people both getting their Masters at the same time isn’t always the ideal formula for a relationship but we are making it work!

I honestly considered shutting my blog down. Ms Perfectionist was telling me that since I hadn’t done it regularly, I should not do it all. But I noticed more than anything, I missed it. I should have continued with it even when I was stressed because I love it. I love having a blog and I love sharing my life. So now that I have my blog passion back as well as some free time, expect to hear from me often 🙂

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Home = Love

After a week of stressing over school,  trying not to burst with eating, and trying to fit in running I was about ready to crack.

I think I handle stress okay but in honestly, I really do not.

Let’s take a look back in my past:

I would either get extremely sick

I would stop eating

I would not sleep

or I would run too much.

This year though my way of dealing with stress was the most embarrassing and shameful.

I turned to binging again.

And I am disgusted with the result.

So now that I am home in the comfort of my family, I am hoping to tackle my odd and erratic eating patterns.

But on a brighter note 🙂 Home really is where the heart is.

I came home early to surprise my brother for his birthday. To be honest, I love love love suprising people when I come home because… well, it makes me feel special 🙂 I get a bigger greeting than when everyone knows I am arriving! I meet them at a restaurant and my brother literally just starred at me for a couple of minutes. It was perfect haha

I missed my homecoming football game for this but really I was at the point where I needed my mommy, I needed to be away from school, and I needed my bed. I was kind of happy I missed it when FSU lost. That must have been a sad walk home for all my friends! I still love my ‘Noles though!

I came home to a huge stash of goodies! My mom is the b.o.m.b and collects things for me while I am away at school. This time the theme was teaching supplies and protein bars. I now have enough protein bars to fuel a kenyan track team.

 

Which is good considering I would love to run away all the extra weight I have gained from school in the beautiful landscape that is Tampa

And i got to see my handsome little nephew. I swear he looks like a five year old now and is huge! I used him to work out my arms last night.

Well hope everyone enjoyed their weekend! I’m off to help prepare some for thanksgiving (I know, four days early) before doing some shopping!

🙂

p.s. I am apart of the holiday bootie buster challange 2011

I am super excited to! It’s just a great idea!

Midweek Inspriation

So Sorry for the lack of posts! Since Saturday I couldn’t post pictures 😦 It was really sad and frustrating!

But I am back and better than ever.

Shattered Scale

 

I refuse to let this weekend be known as the weekend where my boyfriend found me crying in the bathroom at a tailgate.

Or the weekend, I left my house five different times with the intentions to purge.

Or the weekend, I binged every four hours because I promised myself I would never eat again.

Or the weekend, I called my mom and told her I couldn’t handle ‘it’ anymore.

No, that’s not what this weekend will be.

This weekend will be the weekend I shattered my scale and freed myself.

Let’s back up some:

All this time I have had a scale, knowing I shouldn’t. I knew the anxiety and pain it caused me. It tormented me, laughing at me for the corner of my bathroom. And whether I was feeling in charge of my body and life or not, the scale always had the power to crash my world. And that’s what it always did. And I had enough.

After weeks of eating right (or atleast trying to, binging is always right around the corner as a coaxing mechanism) the scale was calling my name. Now I had already been on it plenty of times to check to make sure I wasn’t gaining too much weight and to continually remind myself I weigh more than I want to. But lately it has been calling my name more. I will be sitting at my desk feeling overwhelmed with school and the scale says ‘come to me and I will show truly if you are strong‘. I’ll be contemplating if I deserve to go out and scale tells me ‘step on up and I’ll let you know if you are too big to enjoy life‘. I will be wondering if I am full or not, trying to give myself a full body scan and the scale yells ‘get on me and I will tell you if it’s even worth it‘. The scale is not my friend but time after time, I listen to him and not me and everything I know is right.

I would never allow anyone I love to allow a number on a scale to define their life or even their mood for that day. It’s just a number and numbers don’t define a person. A number is simply a name for the amount you weigh on the earth, not the amount of importance you are to the world. The number has no idea of whether you are a good person or not, if you live with intergrity, or if you battle your demons every day. The number is not a reflection of you, nor should it be.

But for me, it dictated my mood and my attitude. I woke up on Saturday and felt bad. I had gotten carried away with eating frosting, cookies and smores with friends. It was normal and everyone else enjoyed their night while I sat there knowing the next day would be a roller coaster. I stepped on the scale to see a number I was appalled with and immediately knew I was too fat to eat at the tailgate, go to the football game, or even run. I was too fat to live. I was too fat.

While trying to pull myself together I began to feel angry. Why does it matter to me? Why can everyone else gain a few pounds after a fun night and still get to have more fun? Why was I different? Why did my weight affect me to such a degree? I got angry and threw the scale across the room and left my house determined to make the best of it. I couldn’t. I spent the whole tailgate ashamed that I was eating even though I wanted to purge. I felt gross that others were able to eat and move on while I was ruminating on how much I ate. I was disgusted of how my clothes felt. I hid in the bathroom crying. Crying for everything I was missing out on and crying because the negative talk was so intense. My boyfriend found me and tried to help and I wiped away my tears and tried to move on. I was feeling a little better but the negative talk followed me to the game and then throughout the night. And as always, it came back to that damn number on the scale.

When I got home that night, I took the scale and throw it outside. I felt more empowered and was proud of myself. Out of sight, out of mind. My boyfriend thought I was crazy for a) having a scale and b) so violently throwing it but I knew it was what I needed. The scale, the tool of torment, out of my home and my life.

But the next day, I still felt horrible. The binging of the weekend had affected not only my mood but I was physically affected. I was lethargic and tired. I wanted to binge more but I also wanted to purge. I grabbed my keys five different times thinking ‘I will just take ten laxatives and get it out of me as quickly as possible’ or ‘i’ll run for an hour and half and not refuel afterwards’ or ‘maybe if i take 5 stackers (the diet pill) I will burn it all off’. I couldn’t imagine any of them truly releasing all the anxiety that was building in me. I felt like a pressure valve about to explode. I was shaking and was having trouble breathing. I was having a panic attack and it all came back to that damn number on the scale.

I called my mom, crying and begging for some sort release. I knew she couldn’t make me feel better about my body, accept the number on the scale, or make the binges not have occurred but she just kept calm and talked to me. Most of all, she reminded me I wasn’t a number. I wasn’t the number on the scale or the number of my jeans. I was a survivor, a teacher, a runner, a daughter, a girlfriend….all the things the scale never told me. The important things to me were the things the scale would never recognize.

And once again I got angry. Damn that scale for making me feel less of a person. Damn the scale for putting me in such a funk I couldn’t run this weekend. Damn that scale for making me a bipolar bitch on Saturday. Damn that scale for making me weak. Why couldn’t the scale ever remind me of all the things I am, not the things I am not? I wanted revenge on it for controlling me. All the anger and resentment I had needed to be taken out and I knew just how to do it.

I went out back took the scale and smashed it up against a tree 4 times. It still wasn’t broken. It was a resilient little f’er. Just like ED but I wasn’t giving it up. I kept throwing it and I realized that I was actually crying. Crying this time because I was being freed. I kept throwing it harder and harder until I heard the crack and I was looking for. It laid in a heap in the woods.

And I felt freedom. Freedom to be find new ways to define myself, not by the number on the scale. I am not sure how long I will be able to stay away from it but right now, this is what I need. No pressure or stress to deal with a number. I don’t even like numbers, I actually hate math. So being freed is my new mantra.

And it feels so much better than seeing the number on the scale go down.

Are you willing to be freed from the numbers too?

 

A Fair and Cupcakes

Friday was a day of firsts.

1.First time  I went to the North Florida Fair

2. First time  feeding  Scottish Highland Cattle and Mike feeding a Zebu

Is there not something so cute about these animals? There were tons of goats, sheep, lamb but these unusual cattle stole my heart. Love the hair-do on the Scottish Highland Cattle. Also, the Sicilian Donkey (not shown) was quite adorable. Like any italian, he was only interested in the food.

3.  First time being molested by cattle

No big deal. He only rounded second base.

4. First time I decided that bringing cupcakes to a tailgate must mean they are a garnet and gold

5. First time realizing that you could use a whole tube of food coloring and still not get garnet icing

6. Finding out that no matter what color you intend the cupcakes to be, a cupcake is a cupcake, delicious

Even if they are pink and neon yellow.

Also, the pink frosting to neon yellow cake ration should always be 50-50!

Obviously, there is first for everything

Blogger Fail

 Its not like I am a great blogger.

Or that I blog everyday! But I wanted to today.

I had thoughts and pictures to share!

There was a trip to a carnival, a cupcake fail, and a scale shattering.

All of which are on my camera.

But the camera cord had been left behind 😦

So expect some posts tomorrow but until then,

go NOLES!