#bingealert 

If you know me, you know I love, love, LOVE social media. I tend to over use it almost as much as I over use emoji. WordPress for blogging and Facebook and Instagram for everything else. Social media has been so much fun for an extrovert like me. It has acted as lifeline to the outside adult world a few years ago, when I was doing home daycare and stuck in my home with growing depression. It has helped me get to know and keep in touch with many cousins, friends and acquaintances that I wouldn’t have otherwise. I love that! 
On Instagram and WordPress, I have even bonded with and established genuine friendships with strangers that are on the same journey as me! I have put my heart out here and told the truth and allowed it to be up for public viewing (and scrutiny if need be) and have received nothing but love and encouragement.  

Being a writer type, I found it especially therapeutic to document and work through all the ups and downs of this endeavor through writing. The physical, mental, and spiritual ebb and flow of my my life, available to anyone who cared. I am honored that anyone would want to continue to read it because really, everyone has a story and point of view and mine in not remarkably different than anyone else’s. So, thank you! 

I have been able to celebrate many successes on my weight loss journey here, but there have also been dark days. In the name of staying honest and transparent, today is one of those days that calls for confession. 
I totally lost my mind and had an ugly food binge day today.
I hardly slept. I woke up grumpy.  
The first thing I did when I came downstairs was grab a handful of Hershey chocolate chips out of my freezer and shovel them in my mouth…it was all downhill from there.  
The more I grazed and ate, the worse I felt. 
 Guilty. Lazy. Gross.  
About an hour ago I decided to stop the madness and “feel the feelings” I was trying to ignore with eating all day. I really wanted to get to the root of what triggered me today (besides waking up on the wrong side of the bed!) and share it here.  
THIS is real life. 
I am a real woman, changing my life.  
This isn’t some filtered and cropped social media thread.  
This is real.  
That is the ugly side of social media.  

I’ve learned the right angle to take a picture and like to highlight all the good food choices I make and hard workouts completed. It feels good! It’s cool when you get followers or people “like” your photos.  To be able to show how my life is changing is amazing and I’m proud of myself.  

But it’s too easy to let it go to your head sometimes and WAY TO EASY to leave out the shameful, shoveling my face with food that I don’t need or really want moments.  
To hide feeling bad about myself and letting that be an excuse to eat like a jerk for a few more hours. Then, the temptation to be crazy and come up with ways to “overcompensate” my “bad” behavior.  
That, my friends, is dis-ordered eating.  
I’m here this afternoon to call myself out.  
Just because I have been blessed to enjoy some success on this journey doesn’t mean I’m “in the clear”. I have been fortunate to be able to grab ahold of my life this past year and have some progress to show for it, but by no means am I an expert. I’m not “fixed”. I am just a real person, struggling to be free of food addiction and gain a fit and healthy life.   
I want to enjoy food and not be afraid of it controlling me. I want to workout because I love my body and love how strong I am getting, not because I feel need to punish myself. 
I guess the whole reason I wanted to write this is because, on social media people can really make it look so easy to make theses changes. We all all put our best foot forward and show our best selves and it could be really easy not to post the unflattering pics and unwise choices.  
This will be my struggle for the rest of my life, but everyday I feel stronger and stronger and more able to share the good, bad and ugly.  If you are struggling with these kinds of issues, please don’t be afraid to reach out and talk to someone you trust! You don’t have to hide or punish yourself!  We are strong and capable of so much more than we know! 

So, now I’m gonna have lots of water, something crisp and fresh for dinner that I can feel good about, and maybe go for a walk.  
But, most importantly I am moving on.
    

  

Reining it in

I love that my hair is long enough to pull up into the perfect messy bun.  No strays or stragglers.

I love that I opened this window on my left side and a burst of warm summer wind hit me in the face like a pleasant surprise.

I love that my Pandora is playing all the songs I like so I don’t have to waste any skips.

I love that my dog always knows just when I need her to snuggle up against me and be my friend.

I love that my babies are running through my house having fun despite me yelling at them to knock it off.

I know I will miss their mess and noise someday and I only need a moment of intentional gratitude to sober me.

I love that when I stop and take notice, I am overwhelmed with things to say thank you for.

The hardest thing about being a realist is that you’re really only a pessimist in disguise.

To halt myself from traveling down the familiar gloomy tracks and force instead a stroll down a brighter path…

Well, I’m more comfortable sitting in the shade.

My disappointment hangs from my body,

heavy and always inconvenient.

Protecting me from pain but hard to ignore…and if I’m being honest it only makes it worse.

But I am told to be in the light as He is in the light…

and I was.

Spent the fullness of time feeling welcomed and alive.

Now here we are again, and back to being the last resort.

Wasn’t quite ready to come home to the norm.

I have amends to make and bridges to burn, like calories…and we all know how good I am at that.

Frames and galleries of words that crowd my heart, and the space is getting limited in these chambers.

Bolted with hardware and welded to my arteries.

This kind of blockage requires a skilled surgeon.

Blood pumping through paths I’ve carved out to survive.

A masterpiece.
A bypass of emotion.

Today is a new day that has been made for my gain,

taking a new route and a fresh way.

I will choose gratitude.

What other choice do I have?!

I love that I have mastered the art of coming full circle, even when it seems pointless.

I love that a deep breath and honest words can set my focus strait.

I love that I will turn off this computer and leave the tears behind and get back to living.

Excuse my ramblings today. I just needed to rein it in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reblog: Water Weight

This was a post from last summer. I found that revisiting it this afternoon put a little bounce in my step and reminded me that big girls are allowed to enjoy summer too. Check out my point of view:

https://mandimonblog.wordpress.com/2013/06/10/water-weight/

Gone Fishin’

 

 

Hundreds of friends on social sites but the sight-seeing I do is always alone.

Scenic routes to nowhere.

Breath taking views that always prelude
breath taking falls.

Pride is a faulty fence that won’t hold under your weight.

Especially mine.

I leaned in to rest and got too comfortable.

And I have been trying to dig myself out since.

I hate myself for it.

Because questions only give birth to more questions.

Conversations turn into more conversations.

Everyone is SURE of everything, which is really nothing.

Daring to dig deep but deep thinking doesn’t pay the bills.

 

Talk really IS cheap.

 

I prefer writing poems lately instead.

I like the indirect way it guts my soul.

It  holds me  under the  faucet, like a  fish.

Spilling cold water, blood and secrets.

Baited and hooked.

Filet of fresh foolishness.

Piercing the knife through my belly and up toward that trouble making throat where my voice always escapes me.

Running thumbs up my spine to clear all the waste, (just like you taught me) because no one else is gonna do it.

The sharp blade of reality will scrape the scales and dirt that burden you,

but it never really clears it all.

It only accumulates to add character and flavor.

Wrapped in garlic butter and foil and thrown to the fire to become something worthy of the fight.

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Realology

 

 
The real me.

I don’t think you can handle the real me.I don’t think I can handle the real me, which is why I spend so much time and energy trying to dress, suppress and cover.

The real me keeps up with Kardashians and enjoys every ignorant drop of pop-culture, and  I know you do too…or they wouldn’t be rich. We all watch.  The real me has been known to set the DVR…don’t want to miss any rubbish.  The real me watches all the awards shows, red carpets and live coverage even though I pretend like I’m above it.

The real me sings “laa laa laa laa, wait till I get my money right” while I type this.  Because sometimes, the real me listens to some dirty, filthy rap and hip hop.

It’s poetry.

I love it.

Can’t help it.

I’m jealous of it.  Its art.

It is.

It’s real and raw and I can’t help but appreciate.

The real me has the mouth of a sailor. I try not to, but sometimes…you just gotta…I’m tired of pretending I don’t.

I have the sense of humor of 8 fraternity brothers.  Every damn lewd thing under the sun I think is hilarious and it’s probably extremely inappropriate.

The REAL me likes a good love scene in a movie. You won’t catch me blushing or turning away.  Bring it on, I’m not afraid.  My husband has no complaints.  He knows the real, real me and luckily he loves me anyway.

The real me thinks its funny.

SO funny!

The real me can take a joke and surely throw one your way.  The real me will likely make fun of you, it’s an unfortunate self survival technique.  Because making fun of myself is what has kept me alive.  It has saved me.  It’s what I know..so I also know how to apologize.  They go hand in hand.

The real me likes to get tipsy every now and then when my kids aren’t around.  Tie one on and have a silly good time.  Sing oldies at the top of my lungs and laugh at everything.  I like a margarita or a simple beer…which is a sin nowadays.  Everyone is a beer snob and expert.  Maybe I’m just insecure and lame because I feel like the fancy beer tastes terrible.  The real me won’t care because if she drinks enough (which is rare) she likes to smoke a cigar.  The really sweet and cheap ones from the gas station.  The real, deep down me wont feel gross, guilty or in trouble…because she has nothing to hide.  

 

The real me knows..that God already knows.  

 

He already knows the real me that sneaks leftovers from the fridge when everyone is asleep.  An extra scoop here, a bite there.  The real me that over eats to stuff down the urge to go ahead and just be the real me, and let it all hang out.  The real me that loses battles against pastries, bagels,calories and food journals.  Clean eating plans that fall short despite how hard I try or how firm my resolve.   So I try, but I want to have my cake and eat it too..and show no evidence of it.

Don’t we all?

The real me questions God and the bible and if this whole thing isn’t just a big scam.

The real me wonders if I’ve been brainwashed all along.

The real me knows I can’t say these things out loud because (gasp) what would everyone think?

Well, the real me doesn’t need your prayers.

God is always here for me, however that works.  The real me knows that God is real and loves, even the real and raw hidden me.

 

The real me needed your true friendship …you know the kind that you thought you had already given to me and then bailed on when you found out that I was TOO much?

The real me has few real friends.. you wouldn’t approve of.

We laugh at crazy stuff and talk about the dark things that crowd the soul with the practice of keeping them silent…but when they reach the light of day the power hold they had on me fall to the ground like a pile of rusty chains.

Hold on, there’s more.

The real me likes to be alone, but its hard to do things alone.

The real me wishes she could beg for help but she wont because shes prideful.  So,so, so prideful.

I’d rather die than ask you for help again.  Ever again.

The real me wishes I could say that to your face but I wont.  I know that deep down, the real me isn’t that polite.  The real me would shrug and keep walking because the real me doesn’t pretend like everythings fine. The real me is so damn tired of taking the fall.  So tired of taking the blame .  So tired of being responsible. So tired of being at fault.

But the real me cant say that out loud.  We must always keep up appearances.

 

The real me has secrets and regrets.

Darkness. Beyond what you could even imagine.

The real me has carried it a long time.

The real me is so sorry,  You wouldn’t believe how sorry! I could never express. It’s buried too deep.  But the real me is on her way to freedom.  Digging these old things up and letting them go.  So, let go and just let the real me hang on out there…good, bad and ugly, this is what it is.

We’ll see whose still standing here after.

We are all liars, thieves and pretenders.

What would be the harm if we just sat in our discomfort and exposed who really are and what we really feel?

So lets just get real.

Realology.

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Get a move on!

I just sat down at my computer and cranked up the music.

Subwoofer and all.

It feels so  good.  First song to pop up on my Pandora (Love’s Holiday/Earth, Wind & Fire Radio, if you’re feeling funky) is  Michael Jackson’s “P.Y.T”.  Just what I need to light a fire under my ass this morning to literally dust this thing off and get down to business.  He  sings,” don’t you know now is the perfect time…” and he’s right, it is.

It has been way to long.

I have been avoiding my blog, my writing and generally all things I enjoy for sometime now.  I don’t know why I do that?   Must be a part of the weird and continual self-abuse that is my default when times get stressful.   I tend to fold up shop on all things productive and go back to the old way of thinking and managing my emotions when something sucky happens. And yes, sucky stuff has happened.  But I am still here.  My family is doing well.  I have a roof over my head.  All is well. Gratitude washes away all the weariness that has threatened to take over.

The good news is, the time between my old default setting and the fresh and ambitious setting that I prefer is getting shorter and shorter.  Thanks be to God!  My desire to THRIVE is greater than the desire to be feel sorry for myself.

One of my best friends reminded me of a great quote yesterday by the legendary Tony Robbins, “motion is emotion.”

Motion is emotion. 

Our body language and energy level is connected to what we think and feel about ourselves.  How we feel about ourselves dictates the quality of what we do day in and day out.  Even though I feel as though I have to learned this lesson over and over…here it is again today and I’ll be damned if a negative attitude hadn’t snuck in and tried to take over again.  Which is a shame because I have so much to tell you guys about the past few months.  I have gone (mostly) sugar-free.  I have started Pilates.   I began acupuncture to help with managing my foot pain and also to promote healing so that I can get to where I want to get with my fitness goals.  I have been enjoying some great accomplishments!  Even though I have a long way to go, I can”t afford to pull the plug and crawl back into my comfortable cave where everything dulls and comes to a screeching stop just because it seems too overwhelming.

You can’t make momentum out of nothing.  

So today I will GET UP.

GET A MOVE ON.

Maybe put on some Beyoncé and get my groove on.  I will not lie down and let poor and lazy thinking allow me to slip into fatigue and depression (again).  I think this is a danger for any of us moms who stay at home during the day (but that is a whole other blog post!).  If I am making the choice to sit and marinate in all of my negative feelings and fears, how can I ever expect any changes to occur or progress?  This was where I always seemed to fail before.  Throwing in the towel and resorting back to the same old thing before the new thing could take hold.   Putting a halt on all of the things that help me feel better and do better  is about the worst thing I can do.

I will WRITE.

I will post it.  Even if it sucks.  Because I know I should.  Because I know it helps me feel better.  Because I know it helps connect me to everyone else who reads these words and resonates with what I feel, and I know I’m not alone.   Because I know it is my art and my gift and if I want to get better at it, I need to quit worrying about who will read it and what they will think of it.

It’s the perfect time.

Especially now that Pharrell and Daft Punk are in my ear telling me it”s time “to get lucky”.

 

 

 

 

 

Greatness awaits!

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My daughter stepped on the scale in my bathroom today while I was cleaning. It was a golden moment from the heavens that I almost missed by being distracted by my own thoughts and busyness.

She stepped on it and said,”Ok mama, let’s see how great I am!”

What.

The.

Heck.

My face still might be slightly numb.
Seriously.
Men may not get this post, but I know women will.

For many of us ladies, the scale represents so many vile things. It boasts the measurement of our worth (or so we’ve learned from somewhere) and it doesn’t lie, right? It can’t be tricked or cheated like the number that we’ve put on our drivers licenses. The scale will expose all of your secret rendezvous with the drive thru, the left overs and the chocolate chip cookies that you thought were safe from the public eye, late in the night.

For me, the scale has been an electric source of regular shame and resentment of myself. A constant pang of disappointment and a truly humiliating reality check of my life as a fat woman.

Not that I would need any help with that. There are plenty of places to look if you want to be “fat shamed”. The internet is riddled with people upset by the mere sight of fat people. How dare we wander into the light of day? How dare we try to dress in whatever might fit and try to run errands or go grocery shopping for our families? Obviously, obscene obese people in public have put themselves out there to be a public mockery, right? They deserve to have strangers secretly take their pictures and post them up on public forums to ridicule and judge them without mercy, right?

Even the “positive” and “motivating” messages and memes can sting a little. “Thinspiration” has become an actual thing. Pinterest boards are wrought with sayings like,” sweat is your fat crying” or “pain is fat crying”. “These burpees and push-ups will make your fat cry”.

Boo.

Why is it that I’m supposed to wanna make my fat cry?

Sounds weird.

Sounds like more hate.
I’m tired of all the hate!
And, I’m damn sure sick of crying!
Leave people alone!

Actually, I’d love for my fat to just politely excuse itself, apologize for lingering so long, and be on its way.
Put that on your Pinterest.

Yeah right!

I know it takes hard work and discipline to be healthy. I’m trying everyday to get there. It’s a long road, but health is my goal. I’m NOT one of these “fat acceptance” gals. I do not accept being unhealthy and miserable. I do not accept self loathing. I do not believe that anyone who is over weight (especially REALLY overweight like me) can be 100% happy with themselves.

Sorry.
I don’t buy that baloney for one second.

It hurts. It’s actually, physically uncomfortable and causes pain. It’s hard to move and do the things you want. It’s embarrassing. I don’t believe that fat is fabulous.
But, I’m beginning to believe you can be fabulous while being fat…and loving yourself regardless of what your struggling through, and that is what I am trying to learn.

That is why, what my daughter said today was so golden.

It’s not because the number on the scale should measure how “great” we are…the subtle lesson was in her innocent approach to the whole thing. She’s not yet learned what “the scale” even means or represents. She’s not yet poisoned by the beauty=worth lie.

She just knows that she’s great.

She is great!

And I pray with all of my heart and soul that that is how it stays for her. That she would see herself as great no matter what comes her way or what challenges she will have to struggle through.

And may it start with me…because I know she is watching.

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Truth dump

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I recently took a break from Facebook over the weekend.
So much happening around us, it’s hard being constantly bombarded with bad news and attitudes. I feel like my life and the lives around me are caught up in an intense tornado of chaos and drama.
Feeling like I need to be strong leaves me lonely sometimes.

I hate when I feel this way. I seem like such a whiner. Maybe that’s why I haven’t felt much like writing lately?
Pressing on despite how it feels.
It’s all exhausting.

Heavy lids.
Heavy limbs.
Heavy thoughts.
Lugging.
Feels like I need work done under the hood again.
Scrubbing.
Like I have thick molasses oil in my veins…
pulling me down into the melancholy resistance that keeps me…
Quiet.
Struggle.
Tired.
Fail.
Again and again and again.
Lord, rescue me from the despair of myself…again.
It hurts.
I distract.
I numb.
I sleep.
Wake up and repeat.
Depression is merciless.
It won’t let up.
Let up!
Give me a break!
I don’t want it to run off on others.
Contagious.
I know people with worse problems.
I’m not allowed to cry.
But today I fully feel all of my own tears.
Hot and revealing.
Can’t hide.

Telling the truth is hard work.

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Peace out!

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So I’ve decided to act on some come conviction I’ve been feeling lately revolving the amount of time I am spending online. It may be distracting me and keeping me from learning some deep lessons…or at least helps me avoid them REALLY well. I had been feeling like I needed to scale back on Facebook time but kept excusing my self because I just plain didn’t wanna. This remarkable video clip came to me and pressed in…

After that, it made me start to evaluate if I was “using” my online activity as an escape as much as I use food.

Yesterday, I could run no further from the truth after reading the BRILLIANT post by Glennon over at Momestary. Please please please read:

http://momastery.com/blog/2013/09/26/6-reasons-social-media-dangerous/

I made the decision last night that I am being called to lay down the “check-in” obsession and BE STILL.

I removed my Facebook app and Instagram apps from my phone but will still continue to blog and post my blog on the Realology page. Other than that, I’m on a freeze.

It’s hard to admit feeling out if control in this area! What about you? Is this something you struggle with?

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Why “Life of Pi” is a must watch for the spiritual traveler

“Even when God seemed to have abandoned me, he was watching. Even when he seemed indifferent to my suffering, he was watching. And when I was beyond all hope of saving, he gave me rest. Then he gave me a sign to continue my journey.”
– Pi Patel, Life of Pi

I have been haunted by the movie “Life of Pi” since I watched it a few nights ago. It was a beautiful movie just to look at but the content embedded within the story I found to be equally as beautiful. It has been out for quite awhile now, so I think it’ll be safe to talk about, but in case you haven’t yet seen it I’ll announce a *spoiler alert* just in case.

The movie begins with an adult Pi settling in to share his story with a young writer who is promised that by hearing…he would surely believe in God. He starts with sharing that as boy he had spent a great amount of time reconciling his faith between three different religions. Hinduism, Christianity and Islam. Finding value in all three and eventually taking nuggets of each as a foundation of his own faith. He says,” I came to faith through Hinduism, and I found God’s love through Christ. But God wasn’t finished with me yet. God works in mysterious ways, and so it was he introduced himself again. This time by the name of Allah. — Allāhu Akbar. My Arabic was never very good, but the sound and feel of the words brought me closer to God. In performing salah (prayer), the ground I touched became holy ground, and I found a feeling of serenity and brotherhood…Faith is a house with many rooms.”
The Young writer asks,”But no room for doubt?”
“Oh plenty, on every floor. Doubt is useful, it keeps faith a living thing. After all, you cannot know the strength of your faith until it is tested.” He replies.

Essentially, the movie then tells two stories of what happens to an adolescent Pi after being the only human surviving a ship wreck. The longer version that he narrates takes up most of the movie and is full of adventure, sharing a boat with an adult bengal tiger, stunning beauty, courage and overcoming the intense difficulty of loss and loneliness that he had to face at sea. When he is finally rescued, the investigators having to find an official cause for the sunken ship have a hard time believing his story. They reject it completely. So, he ends up telling them another story that parallels much of the first but with more realistic and dark details. The movie ends with the open ended question of which story was true? Had he only shared the second story to tell them what he thought they wanted to hear? Was the first story a figment of his imagination to help him deal with the harsh realities of what he had gone through? As the movie came to a close, the adult Pi asked the young writer with whom he was sharing which story he preferred. The young writer answers as I’m sure most of us would,” The one with the tiger, thats the better story. ” And Pi answers,” Thank you. And so it goes with God.”

I interpreted that as meaning that we can look at our lives and circumstances in many ways, perspective can make or break us. I think the same is true with God. We all look at God in many ways. Some can see Him as guiding us and aiding us through the storms in our lives, providing beauty and rest in between the difficulty to Him being indifferent or even non-existant. Some have even been taught to see him as wrathful and disgusted with us, only merely tolerating some of whom he has chosen to glorify himself. As a Christian, I found this struggle with faith to be a fascinating theme throughout the movie. Probably more so at this time in my life because I could resonate so well with Pi and his struggle of seeking the truth of his faith. He had many different influences but his character never stopped genuinely seeking God. It was very moving to me.

I have gotten myself into some trouble for using the word “interpretation” when discussing my own faith with well intentioned peeps. It seems that sometimes in church culture there is no room to stretch out and examine these kinds of thoughts. I think sometimes we all forget that we are all working out our faith in fear and trembling from drastically different points of view. I think that God is big enough to handle that.
I guess the big lesson learned for me in all of this is to be as respectful of other peoples spiritual journeys as I would want them to be towards mine. I ought not to make judgements or assumptions about things that aren’t my business. My business should be about loving people as Jesus commanded, “I give you a new commandment: that you love one another, just as I have loved you, so you too should love one another. By this shall everyone know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35) I also mustn’t rely on other peoples interpretations of an experience I am having first hand. God created me to view him through my eyes and my heart and the perspective is mine alone.
Fortunately for me, my view just keeps getting bigger and bigger.

Previous Older Entries

This is my oxygen mask breakfast.  My "stop what you're doing and take care of yourself before you crash and burn" breakfast.  This is my I need to eat for LOVE of my body, not because I hate it breakfast.  This is my, "I know what to do, eat foods that give life and fuel and make my body feel vibrant" breakfast.  This is my quit with the gimmicks, half assed effort and BS breakfast.  My, stop eating like an asshole breakfast.  MY PRACTICE WHAT YOU PREACH breakfast.  My keep going, stay the course, everyday is new, breakfast.  And it's also a spinach, eggs avocado and berries breakfast.  #grateful #stayingthecourse #goalsongoalsongoals #breakfast #determined

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