Birds of a Feather | We’re all Peacocks

I have such beautiful friends.
And yes, if you are reading this count yourself in.

Because without blogging…

It takes a good friend to read my ridiculousness – and if you enjoy it?
Well then you’re just as special as I am.

We obviously have something in common, which is why I want to share this amazing gift my friend Debbie surprised me with.

Debbie stopped by randomly with the sweetest, encouraging card and one of her favorite photos (she’s a great photog).

 

I was so touched by the beautiful message in the card – but blown away when she explained what she saw in the picture.

The peacock is looking at it’s reflection – but look at what he sees.

Despite seeing the beautiful colors in the world … his image remains stark. In shadow.
Just take a moment and look at what he is seeing of himself.

  

And yet….

There is so much that he is missing.

Don’t we all have a little bit of that Peacock inside?
We, as humans, are so easily deceived by our own self-evaluation.

It’s heartbreaking how we can be so blind to our own amazing beauty. And how sometimes that blindspot can leads us to behaviors and attitudes that harm us.

We are all Children of God, or for those who prefer –

Birds of a Feather.
What I’m saying is….we’re all unicorns peacocks.

Unless….you can be a unicorn. Then for sure do that.

I hope you remember this whole “peacock thing” at a time when you feel anything less than WHO you really are and what you’re capable of. 

Also —

You need to know that while contemplating a clever title for this post I naturally thought of incorporating Peanut Butter …….

but then:

Pea(nut butter)cock.

I’m ruined for a while. I know I say “peanut butter on ALL the things!” but…no.

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Being Me-h

 

Hey ya’ll.

So. Another week come and gone with no blogwriting-mojo but here I am now.
Just gonna flow … stream of consciousness …

Try not to drown.

One of the reasons why I enjoy to write here is because I enjoy YOU. Who is “you,” you ask? YOU. Yes you.
Your comments and friendlies and the fact that for the most part you GET me.

That being said…

 

Yup. Still hanging around here in meh-sville (which as I write this I am realizing is the same neighborhood as ME-sville and yes I am so all up in myself right now it’s pathetic.)

 

I realize to everything a season and that I must be feeling this way with reason and for purpose. But still…
Not a cool place to be.

Especially for me.

I’m usually able to find the bright side, the sunny side, the rainbows…

Or, you know…I eat my way there.

Sigh.

 

My cutest friendly ‘”brick house” Katie shared some great quotes the other day – one of which was:

 

 

And me – in my meh-sville/me-sville “mememe” mental mode – got personal in her comments section.

“I have a whole mental “thing” about that word. Since High School I’ve always said…

“I just don’t know how to be”

My friends would ask “how to be … what?” or “how to be ..when?”

And I’m like…

“No … I just don’t know how to just be.”

I’m always and have always been shifting and thinking and swirling …

wondering, wandering, waiting, wanting…

I long to be.

Just BE.

Breathe and God’s Presence takes me to that place every.single.time.

So, the “be” thing is amplified about eleventy gazillion percent toi the ninth power with this weight gain and body discomfort. Which – is necessary should I choose top recover.

This is always ALWAYS my breaking point and I am devoting so much energy to BE-ing in this skin.

My friend Rachel has been helping me, allowing me to share the specifics and she wrote something to me that really moved me.

And then she made it a picture for me to have.

I’m trying to learn to dance in my own skin despite the discomfort.

That’s all.

No –wait! I’m not done yet.

Peanut Butter is delicious.

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I Am How I Am

One of the most difficult questions you could ever ask me is

“How are you?”

Such a loaded question. Most often asked on auto-pilot. I’ve never known how to answer it, which is usually what I tell people when they ask. 

I used to bust out my Big Gay Al….

 

But it’s not 1997 anymore and well…it’s lost on most people. (But not “my people”… if you know what I mean. We know what’s what.)

So for the past decade or so I have resorted to simply stating..

“I am.”

 

That’s how I be.

It’s probably lost on most people. (Weirdo)

But Whatever. Totally Fine.

Because if I started to get into it….

Girl? Put away your serious. Ain’t nobody wanna see that.

…I might hit you with something like this:

(get ready to rock-&-scroll)

Is it July yet? I knew June was going to be hard, but this is just nasty.
I have been in THE funk to end all funks …. and I’m not talking George Clinton P-funk. Nope.
I’ve been breathing and being and smiling and taking each day at a time, yet I’m unable to escape the underlying stench of stankazz funk just festering inside. Yuck.

This weekend it all came to a crescendo, like a tsunami. (Does anyone say tidal wave anymore or did that go out of style too?)

The funk did what it had to do, leaving me a washed up wreck for a bit. I’m all soggy and stuff but at least the worst is over? I keep thinking all of this turmoil is part and parcel of a deeper transformation. For the better.

Now that I’m over the crest, I feel a bit more able to move onwards and upwards….get my good funk on.

Heehee.

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State of Stagnation

My blog’s been stagnant.

 

stag·nant/ˈstagnənt/

Adjective:

1. Having no current or flow and often having an unpleasant smell as a consequence. (<—- That’s probably from all the kimchi and onions I eat)
2. Showing no activity; dull and sluggish:
3. characterized by lack of development, advancement, or progressive movement

My blog is a reflection of my life.

Do the math. If A=B and B=C……..

My life = STINKING STAGNANT. Yup.

Unfortunately, the adage “still waters run deep” does not apply.

I’m simply. just. inert.

And it’s getting all mentallydetrimentally up in here.

 

Seriously.

I’m taking pictures of myself in the bathroom mirror again.

Enough said.

So.  Now what?

In High School Physics I learned the Law of Inertia.

Things at rest tend to stay at rest; things in motion tend to stay in motion.

So I declare today (01.12.12) my day of gaining MOMENTUM. No matter what it takes, I have to get my *assterisk* in grooving gear.

“Outside Force” myself into motion.

Do stuff. Get stuff done. Write more. Blog More. Venture out. Explore more. Cook more. More Challenges. More variety. More motion.

And LESS stagnation.

• Any tips, suggestions, questions and double-dog dares would be much appreciated because I have no idea where to start.
• Because of today’s date, this Beastie song has been in my head:

I do a TIGHT Karaoke to this song.

 

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All the World’s a Stage

Earlier this week I read this post by Sophia. As always, her thought-provoking writing stirred a response in me. I spontaneously wrote a comment which I have been thinking about ever since and I want to remember it. Here it go:

 

What kind of recovery stage do I think I am in right now?

Ouch. Tough one. A bunch of answers come to mind immediately:

Gathering Courage stage, going backward stage, wtf stage, letting god work stage, realizing I can’t only He can stage….
who am I? stage…

But you know what?

I’m not even on “the stage of recovery” right now. I can’t lie.

I am in the dressing room…waiting for The Director to say “places, please.” God is behind the scenes doing all sorts of set work and prop building and casting, though. I know that.

I’m memorizing my lines (Finding myself in Him and His Word) and getting into Character. I am in wardrobe (casting off old robes and putting on his new robes) and building the Confidence I need to make my debut when the curtain comes up again.

The first time? I wrote the script myself and the play bombed. I got some good practice, some good exposure and some street cred. But guess what? I landed a part in a big-time, for real deal production. One with a long history of results, and the most POWERFUL playwright and producer of all time.

 

• What stage are you on (in life, in recovery, in spiritual growth…etc.

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Over ‘Him’ but Not Over ‘It’

I wasn’t always lost. I once knew exactly where I was headed in life, or at least who I was headed there with.

We fell in love in 1999, my Junior year of college, and moved in together that Summer. We liked to travel and I spent many many hours beside him in his truck. Just the two of us (and our dog Zoe).

We were creating memories – “Our Life Together: The Early Years.”

I couldn’t wait to tell the kids about it.

I assumed we’d be together forever and the feelings were mutual.

I pretty much considered myself part of his family. His parents even came to my graduation.

After graduating, we moved to Austin, TX – where we had dreamed of living for years. We were ready to start building our futures.

Life was good. Did I have issues? Oh, yes. I did. So did he.

But I was healthier and happier.

Love makes everything better.

Until it can’t anymore.

I wrote here about a dramatic weight loss coinciding with a relationship blow-out. That was 2004 – the last year I spoke to the boyfriend formerly known as “The One.”  It was mutual. Our relationship had crumbled; our separation was necessary. Necessary but painful.

What hurt most was when he completely cut-me off. I didn’t stalk him or anything, but I’m the type who likes to be on friendly terms (After a certain amount of time has passed). Not everyone can be friends with their ex. I understand that. He made it clear. 

But complete severance from someone who I shared so much with for 6 years? It hurt. The dead silence.  It wounded me.  Devastated me.

He was my family. My best friend.

 

I felt I’d been erased.

Like a mistake.

My Aunt Trudy keeps saying “It was that guy. I think he took your heart and tore it up and you’ve never been the same.”

I shrug it off. I’m at peace with things. He didn’t hurt me. Our relationship just had to end. I’m over him and wish him all the best goodies in life. My present day issues have nothing to do with an old boyfriend.

Yet, a certain song can bring me to tears every.single.time.

That’s not normal. I don’t think of him when I hear this song – but I feel the pain that took root in my heart back then.  The rejection, the loss, the loneliness, the self-doubt.

I’ve reached an epiphany.

My Aunt is right. I’m broken hearted. Still.

I’m over HIM but I’m not over IT.

The rejection I felt (and feel) has infected me. It’s not about him. It’s not about our relationship. It’s about the wound. I never took care of it, so it never healed.

It’s post traumatic relationship syndrome.*

I’m happy I’ve realized this, because once we know something is broken we can set about finding the scattered remains and piecing it together again.  

No, my issues today have nothing to do with an ex-boyfriend but EVERYTHING to do with a wounded heart. <—God-shaped hole 

*Not sure if that is a real-deal condition but it should be, Amen?

 

• Have you had an epiphany like this? Ever realize that you’ve been carrying hurt or anger from something that happened in your past?

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Crazy Train

Ready for some “Real Deal Holyfield” heavyweight-style honesty?

I used to have a “hop aboard the rollercoaster railroad of recovery” mentality.

Yeah. About that….

I have completely derailed.

I’m a train wreck waiting to happen in motion.

I desperately need to get back on track but I don’t even remember what that looks like.

Each day begins with a commitment to do better, to try harder.

Each day ends in disappointment, shame, and a desperate hope that tomorrow will bring success.

A hope shadowed by terrifying dread of what tomorrow might bring instead.

 

More Failure. Derailure. <—It’s a Missy word.

From bad to worse to worster. <—Not a word, but it rhymes.

I’ll spare the details because they‘re always the same – no matter what our trappings are. The fundamental cause of all emotional and spiritual aches is an absence of love.

In my case? It’s a profound and shocking rejection of self.

Profound because the fact I do not love myself effects every aspect of my life.

Shocking because I am just now realizing this.

I mean…I’m not exactly a doom-and-gloom-suicide-risk type of gal. I smile at strangers and sing in the shower and all that good schtuff.

I see love everywhere.

—> Really. I do. <—

I love my neighbors, but not myself.

If I can’t love myself how can I hope to do anything positive? What is my motivation to stop this self-annihilating behavior and battery?

Today I‘m praying for God to give me the ears, the eyes, the mind and the heart to see, hear, understand and feel His love for me so I can cultivate my own.

• Have you succeeded in getting back on track and overcoming derailure? How?
• Have you ever had to cultivate a love for yourself?
• Is anyone bidding today? If you have money to spare you should!

 

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When You Think A Co-Worker Needs Help

Hello Blog Readers! <— Wow. I never start with a direct salutation. I shy away from assuming people are reading and I don’t want to be left “hanging.”

But I’d like your help. Yes, you!

I received the following question on Facebook and think some of you (yes, you) may be able to contribute your smarts and help a sistah out.

The reason I am writing is because I have been reading your blog, and I know you are in recovery from an ED. I hope that in writing to you, you may be able to offer me an opinion, or help somehow.

One of the doctors I work with I am sure has anorexia, and is possibly bulimic as well. She has been displaying "classic" eating disorder behaviors, such as chewing food and spitting it out, not swallowing, and baking late at night. We have also found vomit in the trash at the office. She is also a compulsive exerciser-she is constantly leaving the office early to go to the gym.

Unfortunately, this has been affecting her work performance recently, and we are losing business because of it. It’s embarrassing for me when I have to hear clients comment on her appearance and behavior. She has become jaundiced from only drinking Carrot Juice.

 

I based my advice on how my coworkers approached me when I was very sick and still “in the closet.”

Oooh… this is hard because I don’t know her and people are different. I think a manager has to take her aside and express concern. “You do not look well…are you okay or is there something medical?…Does you need personal time?” then mention that it is effecting her performance “We have noticed that you leave early. This is becoming a problem, how can we help…." etc.

Gauge how open she is. Do not mention the ED symptoms (vomit…etc) and try and avoid talk of weight. Talk about fatigue or tardiness. If you have a friendly relationship with her you can be more specific.

Here’s a bit more about my experience while I’m on topic:

Since my office environment was familial, I had the luxury of being approached on a personal level that felt natural and caring.

My coworkers knew I had “issues” with my diet and didn’t eat cake or sugar (I claimed hypoglycemia) but they started expressing concern when my weight plummeted following the end of a relationship. I went from eating very little to nothing at all and weighing maybe 95 lbs to maybe 70 lbs. It was UG-A-LEE.

When people expressed concern I lied and said I had stomach issues and that I didn’t know what was wrong but was seeing a Dr. 

When my brain and consequently my work performance suffered, my manager took me aside to intervene. She asked if I needed time off, and worried that I was so frail. I told her I was sick and couldn’t eat. I was too ashamed to tell anyone about my disorder. I focused on the stress I was going through after my break-up and a recent move.

She gave me personal days and lovingly offered support. She gave me the insurance info for mental health services, etc. She checked in with me. She was a confidante.

My condition worsened (I have little to no recollection when I was at my worst). Eventually I had to step down from a mid-management position I’d been promoted too. I was put on “probation” and my work performance was closely monitored. This was done in a very kind and loving way.

This picture is long after I got back from a brief hospital stay. Bag Empty. Cat Out. Meat on Bones.

 

I was “in recovery” but still not eating (during the day? Never!). I actually ended up being the birthday party planner and would order elaborate cakes each month but never eat them. I was able to feel a part of the office that way.

I was “functioning” with an eating disorder.

For the most part, besides some of the closer friends I had at work, nobody said anything. But I always assumed everyone “knew.” Offices gossip, you know.

My work-friends were understanding. They understood when I avoided company lunches. My manager would buy a special supply of sugar-free candy for me while everyone else got chocolate or she’d get me a small toy instead of a cupcake. So sweet.

I’ve had other jobs since then. My behavior and appearance are more normal and I’m more open to explain my “issues” when someone brings up food or weight so I don’t have really have this issue anymore.

And now I’d like to pass the mic.

• What would you do if you think a co-worker has issues with eating?
• Have you ever been in this position?
• If you’ve struggled with an eating disorder, has anyone at your workplace approached you?

PS- If you are a former co-worker feel free to share your experience of dealing with me when I was “snakes and monkeys on a hot, sticky messy plane.”

Don’t be scared. Spill it.

 

 

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Karma Chameleon

 

I can’t change.

I’m like a chameleon…

…always a lizard.

An uninvited visitor reminded me of this Tracy Jordan quote. Hilarious? Yes. Thought provoking? Maybe it’s just me, BUT…

I can’t outrun myself. I can change superficial things, but unless I change my insides I’ll still be that same old lizard. Trying to change behaviors without changing the feelings behind them is an exercise in futility.

On the flip side, I LOVE that I’ll never lose my inner-me.

No matter how I grow, where I go, how much I gain or lose, if I’m in a good mood or bad….I am at heart, a beautiful lizard caterpillar…just waiting to transform.

A butterfly is always a caterpillar at heart.

A caterpillar is always a butterfly waiting to happen.

   

I believe God created them to show us so much.

 PS: My mom and I were flipping out when that little dude showed up. Something about those ‘see-through’ ones gives us the jizzles.

Thankfully my brother rescued us the lizard.

No lizards were harmed during the writing of this post.

• Did you find that quote thought provoking? It’s not the only time 30 Rock has made me think. And laugh.

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Charmed, I’m Sure.

Many bloggers apologize for being “all over the place.” This post seems “all over the place” but I promise I’m going somewhere. I do not promise it’s a place you care to go.  Proceed if you wish.

Guess who got offered free therapy yesterday? Moi! (That’s “me” in French).

I feel so blessed. I think my brother had a hand in all this from up above. Here’s why:

My nephew was visiting me at work yesterday (again). We were working playing at my desk and suddenly he says, “I like butterflies.” Out of nowhere.

“Really Braeden? Me too.” (I really like butterflies. A lot. Seriously <—-.)

It’s not odd for a blue-eyed, blonde chick like me to have a thing for butterflies. It struck me as a bit odd for a two-year old boy to say it while playing Legos. I looked around to see what inspired this thought.

I am consistently festooned and bedecked with butterflies or at least have a doodle of one nearby, but yesterday there was not a butterfly in sight. (I should mark my calendar)

I feel a strong connection with Greg when I’m with his son. Getting a hug from Braeden feels like getting a warm hug from my brother. The “butterfly” comment felt like Greg was giving my heart a little nudge. 

I popped over to Facebook and wrote on his wall.(Greg’s friends and love ones still post on his memorialized wall. We admit it’s weird, but it makes sense to us. Whatever helps you cope, right?)

Get all that? No worries I’ll summarize.

*whispering*

“My Aunt Susan sees dead people.”  Not really. She’s a big believer in reincarnation and regularly receives messages from people who have passed. It’s uncanny. She gives me goose bumps.

After seeing what I wrote, she felt compelled to call and tell me to “look for yellow. He’s there in the office today.”  I kept my mind open for yellow but mostly just went on with my day.

Still wondering why I need therapy?

At 4:30 a long-time client came in (she’s a therapist) and asked if she could talk to me about Greg. Grief counseling, of sorts. Just for 30 minutes. I didn’t want to (it was awkward and I had things to do) but I did because I am polite.

I ended up crying my eyes out and telling her all sorts of things…that’s what always happens to me. She asked if I would come talk to her once a week. For free.

I opened my mouth to say “No. I couldn’t accept your services for free…etc” but something made me pause and think. Really? Why would I turn down this offer?

So I said yes, and felt absolutely positive this was meant to be. Things with my recovery are getting REALLY difficult. REALLY difficult. <—Did I say really difficult? I need any help I can get.

This is a sign in our office complex. It’s always been there, but I rarely drive by it. Yesterday I was parked in a different space so I noticed it.

This sign always makes me smile (Seriously). After my  day’s emotional ending it struck me. I need to slow down because I’m approaching my own “blind corner” in recovery. I can’t afford to act rash. I can’t afford to act on my insane impulse compulsion to lose.weight.now.

Then I tried to make the traffic light and…

it turned yellow.

Yellow!

I didn’t accelerate, I slowed down. It all made sense.

I’m pretty sure I’m charmed.

Or maybe just crazy.

Either way I need to proceed with caution because… did I mention things are getting really hard?

• Psst…Wake up! It’s over. You can go home now. (0:

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