A test for TBD

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inserting jump break here after I hit enter one time

Value, Part 1

I just want to know I have value.  I know in my head I must, but I think that's what it comes down to for many people, is just knowing that their lives have value.  God must have thought I had enough value to bestow to me two daughters, so thankfully I have that to show for my life, but other than that, I often wonder, I really wonder.

I think a lot of this came from tying value to what I did.  If I did well at something, I had value.  If I didn't, my value was much, much smaller, if I retained it at all.  Where did I pick this up in the first place??  I believe in a God that gives grace and mercy to everyone--and I mean everyone--but why do I question my own self-worth and wonder if I have even enough value for him to give that grace and mercy to me.   Maybe if I work hard enough, I always told myself, I'd be good enough for the people around me to love me, for my family and friends to love me, for God to love me.  

But I'm tired of trying.  I've been burned so many times in my life by trying my hardest and best, giving my all, I don't know how I can find the strength to go on, to try and loose this weight, instead of being on this endless gaining session.

No wonder my husband doesn't want me,  I've gained about 140 lbs since I met him 8 years ago.  Ugh.  I just want to crawl under a rock and die.  Or at least sleep forever and a day.  

I did just go for a 2 mile walk.  Gotta start somewhere.  Now, if I could just learn to value myself, just a bit.

A Wake Up Call

Wow.  My husband doesn't want to have sex with me.  I've brought up getting it on a few times lately, like I have over the years in our marriage, without directly asking him but strongly hinting, and now instead of returning the innuendo, he dances around it.  Today he stopped home over his lunch long enough to drop the stroller off and I asked him about it directly, and he said he doesn't like our place being dirty (as in dishes needing to be done and things disorganized), and I pushed him a bit more, and he said, "I find you attractive"...not I want to have sex with you.  I started crying, so I walked away so he wouldn't see it.  He said to the girls, sounds like your mom needs to be sexed up.  He came and gave me a hug and kiss on the top of the head good bye, said he found me attractive.  He asked if I was ok, I said, I just have to come to terms with it. He didn't say any more.

I'm torn between going back to bed in depression and getting out there for a walk.  I'll go for the walk, luckily I have a destination I need to get to, and I'll work on my resolve while I'm out for it.  But still, wow. 

I'll Stand By You

A good friend of mine asked if my husband knew about how I was feeling after I shared this blog with her.  The thing is, he does, to a certain extent, but he doesn't know how often the scary thoughts cross my brain, multiple times a day.  

And although I'm close to my mom, I don't mention anything about these thoughts because they make her feel bad, and she has enough of her own intense things to be dealing with right now--and even if she didn't, knowing your daughter feels this way and has these thoughts could be hard for any mother to deal with, to figure out how to manage in her own brain.  But I also want her to know that I'm not happy where I am, with my weight, so she knows I'm not just complacent about it, because she and my father worry about it.  Her mom harassed her about her weight, so she's been great about not doing the same to me, but sometimes I wonder if the conversation would open up the opportunity to talk a little more about my struggle, so she just plain knows.  

But my own experiences so far in my life have made me commit to being there for my daughters, as much as they'll let me.  I struggled to feel like their mother after being separated from them for 15 hours after their birth, never even laying my eyes on them until 15 hours after they were born (and the head of OB at the hospital I gave birth at said there was no real reason to, as I suspected, except that the staff didn't get their act together to make it happen).  One thing that really made me realize that I'm their mother, and that I'm going to do everything within my power to never not be there for them again was the scene from Glee when Finn sings "I'll Stand By You" to the image of "his" baby's ultrasound.

But first, before I can stand by my daughters, I need to learn to stand by myself.  I need to learn to be my friend instead of my own worst enemy.  That is so hard at this point!  So my next order of business is figuring out things I can do to show myself compassion and turn being my own worst enemy into being my friend.  I won't push myself to be my own best friend, not yet--the perfection that suggests is too much for me, the expectation too high so I just wouldn't try--but at least I can learn to be a friend to myself.  Any suggestions?  What works for you?

I Need To Keep Reminding Myself Of This

Especially as I procrastinate cleaning our place by checking Facebook, where a dear friend of mine had posted this quote:

"Avoid problems, and you'll never be the one who overcame them." -Richard Bach

Your Essence Needs Your Body, Flaws and All

"Mr. Duffy lived a short distance from his body." --James Joyce

"Our minds are like politicians; they make stuff up, they twist the truth. Our minds are masters at blame, but our bodies...our bodies don't lie. Which is, of course, why so many of us learned to zip out of them at the first sign of trouble.

"Despite your argument with your physicality, the fact is that you are here and the 151,000 people who have died today are not.

"No matter how much you loathe yourself or believe life would be better if your thighs were thinner or your hips were narrower or your eyes were wider apart, your essence--that which makes you you--needs the body to articulate its vision, its needs, its love."

And that is why I will continue to inhabit this body, flaws and all, because I know that I have a mission to fulfill during this lifetime, to encourage people, to share love, to have compassion, to be hospitable, to show children the path to life.

Quotes from Geneen Roth's book, Women, Food and God, Chapter 9.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

The tears start to stream down my face, I'm caught between the fear of my desire to end my life and my desire to hold my (currently sleeping) daughters in my arms because I am so thankful for their arrival in my life. I cry because I couldn't bear to leave them without a mother, despite the fantasy that ending my life would take care of the pain I feel, and am so thankful that they are here, holding me back from the scary place where suicide crosses my mind. I feel ashamed to write this, but I need to get it out of my head, and maybe eventually help someone who feels this way too, at least to know they aren't alone.

I'm finally tackling these issues head on because I don't want to pass on these neuroses to them. I don't want them to grow up with a mother that only inhabits her mind and is tormented because of the presence of her body.

Luckily for me, my first born cries out in her sleep enough that I can justify picking her up. She settles back to sleep quickly, in my arms, her measured breaths lightly tickling my collar bone. I type one-handed.

A fully occupied body allows me to enjoy her presence, to support her growing weight with my arm, and to savor her smooth skin with my cheek. I try to forget the glance of my large upper arm I just had while reaching for the keyboard, because those tormenting thoughts rush in to occupy my mind with vile hate for my body, for what it has become, buried under all this weight. I try to turn back to the experiencing of my daughter in my arms, and to remembering to treat myself with compassion. The upper arm and the vile thoughts currently tied to it continue to try and grab my attention, resting just at the bottom of my peripheral vision.

I turn my attention as fully as I can to savoring her presence in my arms and briefly I am filled with the ecstasy of motherhood, a place that has been in its own right has been a challenge to get to. I savor this until I need to set her down to get myself off to bed as well, only because I have to be really productive tomorrow cleaning our place because of my mother's impending visit. I also will likely be woken up by first born's hunger, because she fell asleep before taking her last bottle of the day, which will mean lost precious sleep.

Getting enough sleep helps to keep the vile thoughts at bay, and thankfully I've found that if I fall asleep listing to a podcast of truly positive truths, I don't torment myself as I go to sleep, either. And as the dishwasher whirs, the pain of the stress fracture in my foot pokes into my thoughts, and I finish this post, I continue to relive the pleasure of first born's presence and essence in my arms. I feel a lightness in my spirit I haven't felt in a long time.