An agoraphobic's worst nightmare. Especially mine... I really do not like strangers getting in my space bubble.
I am locking myself in my house, and decorating for Christmas.
I've gone Black Friday shopping a few times with my mom (when I was much younger) but I haven't done it in years... and have no desire (or money, for that matter) to. Going out in public feels like utter chaos to me on a normal day as it is. The few times I went when I was younger, I was honestly kind of terrified. Too much.
Good luck to anyone who will be gaming up for Retail Dooms Day a week from now :) You are a much braver soul than I...
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
I'm in LOVE
...with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. Waving the bright red flag of nerd proudly ;)
But seriously, there are VERY few movies that I can sit through and just watch. My anxiety really messes with my attention span; I like having TV on in the background, but it's very difficult for me to sit through a movie, or even an episode of a TV show (though they are easier). I sat through the whole HP 7 Part 2 last night, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I have it on in the background right now... watching the regular version, right after watching it in "Maximum Movie Mode." So yeah, a tiny bit obsessed with this movie X_x
Yeah, I'm totally a crazy HP fan. Those books are some of the happiest memories to me, you know? I freaking loved/still love reading the Harry Potter books. I love how they transport the reader into this amazing world of magic... Rowling is a genius! In all cliche-ness, the books are damn enchanting... and I can't help but love the movies as well. I started reading the books when I was only 14 years old; nearly a year and a half later, the first movie came out. It's been amazing, the progression of the books and the films... parasocial interaction big time <3
Oh yes, and... HP 7 Part 2 is even more special to me because it was a surprise that Vuni got for me last night :D We had a blast watching it! Wow, I really feel lucky & loved <3
Monday, November 14, 2011
Grateful
I think I've mentioned this before: my mom is a 2nd grade teacher. I spend a lot of time volunteering in her classroom; I truly love it. I love the kids; they're so cute and sweet.
Anyways, this week my mom handed out these paper feathers that say "I'm thankful for..." and then have a few blank lines for them to fill in. Before I get sentimental and stuff...
I'm sort of dreading the holidays this year. Honestly, I have a love/hate relationship with the holidays. I love the decorations, the lights, the smells, sounds, ect. but I despise the drama and stress... which, with a big family, there's always more then plenty of that. But I'm really fretting about it this year, because our lack of $$$ means that we don't have money for presents. My mom has been so sweet, telling me repeatedly not to worry, that her and my dad were unable to afford gifts for people the first few years they were together, and that everyone understands... which made me think...
well, I've realized for awhile that I'm in a pretty rough patch in my life. Vuni and I barely, and I mean, barely (with help from our parents) make it. I honestly can't remember the last time I went on a shopping trip to just... shop. I've downgraded on a lot of things (Bare Minerals to cheap makeup) and try to make things last as long as possible. I can't buy something just to buy it. Hell, I can't even buy necessities just to buy them; sometimes it comes down to, do I need the package of toilet paper or the bag of frozen blueberries more? Essentially, we're just scraping by, and it sucks.
But then- I remember: I have a roof over my head. I'm warm. I'm clean. I have clean clothes. I have clean, drinkable water. I have a car to get places. A phone to call people. I have all of the necessities to live comfortably. And really... I have SO MUCH more than that.
I honestly don't know how I was so lucky to end up with Vuni. The past few nights, we have fallen asleep on the couch, our two kitty girls cuddled next to us, while watching TV. And I've been incredibly happy. In fact, I look forward to the evenings when we can just snuggle together. I love that I get to just mush out and relax with this person who knows me better than anyone, who loves me like I never thought I'd be loved, and who still thinks I'm worthwhile and lovable despite all of my flaws and scars. I love living with my best friend. I love falling asleep with my legs tangled in his. I love seeing his smile when he comes home from work. Five and a half years, and he still gives me butterflies...
I wish our situation were better. I wish I were better. Because honestly, I know our situation is my fault... or at least, is because of me, if not my fault.
That being said, it truly has made me realize just how little material things mean. They're nice; I love getting a new outfit, pair of shoes, or even eyeshadow as much as the next girl. But they're just things. Things that I would not trade for Vuni. I guess, what I'm trying to say is- yes, we struggle. No, life is not as comfortable as it could be (and by comfortable, I mean, not worrying about finances so much). But- I have the best friend/lover that I could have ever imagined. He makes me forget that we're just barely making it. He makes me forget that I have an anxiety disorder and am extremely socially awkward. I can be myself around him, more than I can anyone else... no material thing, or things, could ever match that.
So, we may just barely be struggling by... but, when I am nice and warm in bed, with my best friend and our two kitties at our feet, I can gladly say that, yes, I have a LOT to be thankful for.
Anyways, this week my mom handed out these paper feathers that say "I'm thankful for..." and then have a few blank lines for them to fill in. Before I get sentimental and stuff...
I'm sort of dreading the holidays this year. Honestly, I have a love/hate relationship with the holidays. I love the decorations, the lights, the smells, sounds, ect. but I despise the drama and stress... which, with a big family, there's always more then plenty of that. But I'm really fretting about it this year, because our lack of $$$ means that we don't have money for presents. My mom has been so sweet, telling me repeatedly not to worry, that her and my dad were unable to afford gifts for people the first few years they were together, and that everyone understands... which made me think...
well, I've realized for awhile that I'm in a pretty rough patch in my life. Vuni and I barely, and I mean, barely (with help from our parents) make it. I honestly can't remember the last time I went on a shopping trip to just... shop. I've downgraded on a lot of things (Bare Minerals to cheap makeup) and try to make things last as long as possible. I can't buy something just to buy it. Hell, I can't even buy necessities just to buy them; sometimes it comes down to, do I need the package of toilet paper or the bag of frozen blueberries more? Essentially, we're just scraping by, and it sucks.
But then- I remember: I have a roof over my head. I'm warm. I'm clean. I have clean clothes. I have clean, drinkable water. I have a car to get places. A phone to call people. I have all of the necessities to live comfortably. And really... I have SO MUCH more than that.
I honestly don't know how I was so lucky to end up with Vuni. The past few nights, we have fallen asleep on the couch, our two kitty girls cuddled next to us, while watching TV. And I've been incredibly happy. In fact, I look forward to the evenings when we can just snuggle together. I love that I get to just mush out and relax with this person who knows me better than anyone, who loves me like I never thought I'd be loved, and who still thinks I'm worthwhile and lovable despite all of my flaws and scars. I love living with my best friend. I love falling asleep with my legs tangled in his. I love seeing his smile when he comes home from work. Five and a half years, and he still gives me butterflies...
I wish our situation were better. I wish I were better. Because honestly, I know our situation is my fault... or at least, is because of me, if not my fault.
That being said, it truly has made me realize just how little material things mean. They're nice; I love getting a new outfit, pair of shoes, or even eyeshadow as much as the next girl. But they're just things. Things that I would not trade for Vuni. I guess, what I'm trying to say is- yes, we struggle. No, life is not as comfortable as it could be (and by comfortable, I mean, not worrying about finances so much). But- I have the best friend/lover that I could have ever imagined. He makes me forget that we're just barely making it. He makes me forget that I have an anxiety disorder and am extremely socially awkward. I can be myself around him, more than I can anyone else... no material thing, or things, could ever match that.
So, we may just barely be struggling by... but, when I am nice and warm in bed, with my best friend and our two kitties at our feet, I can gladly say that, yes, I have a LOT to be thankful for.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Uncomfortable Realization (part 2)
So, realizing that my distorted body image correlates with me feeling uncomfortable in my body... I also realized that I cannot stand to feel uncomfortable in many situations. I tend to avoid a lot of things- even necessary things- out of fear.
For example, I've not been the best with finances; I'm afraid to talk to call the people at the credit card company. Afraid to ask my parents for assistance... I kept avoiding these things, because they're uncomfortable to deal with. I've avoided it to the point that I backed myself into a corner, meaning, that if I didn't do something soon, I was gonna start wrecking my credit. SO- last week, with no other option, I went to the bank, explained my situation, and was like, "HELP. Please?" Not only did the wonderful lady at the bank help me set up a repayment plan for my credit card, she assured me that I really wasn't doing as bad as I thought, and helped me set up a budget and a few other things. After that, I was able to talk to my parents about everything.
I was avoiding these two things, making them seem bigger and scarier than they ever needed to be... and now that I've taken care of them, I feel so relieved. My problems didn't vanish obviously, but now that I have a plan and know that I have the support of my parents, life seems doable on my minimum budget.
I guess my point is, I either run from things that make me uncomfortable (this, often making the problem bigger by avoiding it), or I find some really messed up way to deal with it.
Yet another thing to work on...
For example, I've not been the best with finances; I'm afraid to talk to call the people at the credit card company. Afraid to ask my parents for assistance... I kept avoiding these things, because they're uncomfortable to deal with. I've avoided it to the point that I backed myself into a corner, meaning, that if I didn't do something soon, I was gonna start wrecking my credit. SO- last week, with no other option, I went to the bank, explained my situation, and was like, "HELP. Please?" Not only did the wonderful lady at the bank help me set up a repayment plan for my credit card, she assured me that I really wasn't doing as bad as I thought, and helped me set up a budget and a few other things. After that, I was able to talk to my parents about everything.
I was avoiding these two things, making them seem bigger and scarier than they ever needed to be... and now that I've taken care of them, I feel so relieved. My problems didn't vanish obviously, but now that I have a plan and know that I have the support of my parents, life seems doable on my minimum budget.
I guess my point is, I either run from things that make me uncomfortable (this, often making the problem bigger by avoiding it), or I find some really messed up way to deal with it.
Yet another thing to work on...
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Uncomfortable Realization (part 1)
Must... get... better... at... BLOGGING.
Must stop being hyper critical of myself. Must stop worrying about being judged.
I seriously have 4 or 5 posts in my drafts box from the last two weeks, because I'll start to write, then get nervous that I sound really stupid or am just not making sense... or that what I'm writing isn't important. I have a LOT that I've been wanting to blog about, I just end up feeling stupid when I sit down to write...
Anyways, I've had this realization that I've been meaning to write about/ponder. I don't think anyone likes being uncomfortable; but I absolute cannot stand it. I'm not talking about physical pain (which, ironically enough, I am very good at tolerating physical pain), but moreso emotional uncomfortableness.
What made me realize this is the fact that I do not feel comfortable in my body; I don't think I've ever felt comfortable in my body. The irrationalness has been thinking along the lines if you just get small enough, if you just get thin enough, you WILL feel comfortable in your body.
I became aware at age 4 that I was overweight, and that it was not desirable. I felt uncomfortable at age 4, in my body. Year after year, I thought that if I could get out of my pudgey little body and be a skinny, pretty little girl, I'd be happier and more confident, and that my classmates would like me. I was ashamed of being fat; I thought I was ugly. I was teased a lot. I became shyer and shyer, more introverted, because I was teased. I was obese by 13; I'd spend hours in front of the mirror, pinching my fat rolls and thinking if only I were thin enough to feel good and confident in my body, life would be so much better. At age 15, things changed; in less than a year, I went from obese to underweight. The damage had already been done by this point...
...I spent such a little amount of time at an actual "healthy" weight that I never really got a good look at myself as to what healthy should be. It doesn't matter; even underweight, I have nasty reminders that continue to distort the image I see in the mirror.
I have stretch marks. EVERYWHERE. All over my stomach, my thighs, the inside of my arms, my chest... yeah. Everywhere. They're disgusting. They make me want to rip my skin off. I don't have a valid excuse; I'd wear stretch marks with pride if I could say that my skin stretched to accommodate a baby. But it didn't; some of these stretch marks appeared before I could even get pregnant. How freaking sad is that?
It's fucking torture to have to look in the mirror, to desperately want to see what everyone else apparently sees... but have it ruined by the fact that my body is laced in stretch marks, a constant reminder of how big I once was, and constantly distorting my body image...
How does that relate to me being uncomfortable? Because of how it's tricking me into thinking I'm still fat, when I'm obviously not.
It makes me laugh, in a macabre sort of way, that there's those thinspo groups out there promoting ED's as a way of life, saying that "once you're thin enough, you can wear skimpy clothing, ect." Ha... newsflash, people: it does NOT matter how fucking skinny you get, you're still going to feel like a fat ass. I use to fantasize about wearing tight/revealing clothing once I was "thin enough"... and still sometimes do. But the reality is, I hide my body. I'm thoroughly ashamed of it. I still think I'm too fat (despite knowing otherwise) to be wearing form fitting or revealing clothing. Heck, that's one reason I love cold weather so much; it means I can hide in layers and hoodies.
Bottom line is, I still feel very uncomfortable in my body, and it makes me excessively anxious... hence me turning to manage it in some not so practical ways...
Must stop being hyper critical of myself. Must stop worrying about being judged.
I seriously have 4 or 5 posts in my drafts box from the last two weeks, because I'll start to write, then get nervous that I sound really stupid or am just not making sense... or that what I'm writing isn't important. I have a LOT that I've been wanting to blog about, I just end up feeling stupid when I sit down to write...
Anyways, I've had this realization that I've been meaning to write about/ponder. I don't think anyone likes being uncomfortable; but I absolute cannot stand it. I'm not talking about physical pain (which, ironically enough, I am very good at tolerating physical pain), but moreso emotional uncomfortableness.
What made me realize this is the fact that I do not feel comfortable in my body; I don't think I've ever felt comfortable in my body. The irrationalness has been thinking along the lines if you just get small enough, if you just get thin enough, you WILL feel comfortable in your body.
I became aware at age 4 that I was overweight, and that it was not desirable. I felt uncomfortable at age 4, in my body. Year after year, I thought that if I could get out of my pudgey little body and be a skinny, pretty little girl, I'd be happier and more confident, and that my classmates would like me. I was ashamed of being fat; I thought I was ugly. I was teased a lot. I became shyer and shyer, more introverted, because I was teased. I was obese by 13; I'd spend hours in front of the mirror, pinching my fat rolls and thinking if only I were thin enough to feel good and confident in my body, life would be so much better. At age 15, things changed; in less than a year, I went from obese to underweight. The damage had already been done by this point...
...I spent such a little amount of time at an actual "healthy" weight that I never really got a good look at myself as to what healthy should be. It doesn't matter; even underweight, I have nasty reminders that continue to distort the image I see in the mirror.
I have stretch marks. EVERYWHERE. All over my stomach, my thighs, the inside of my arms, my chest... yeah. Everywhere. They're disgusting. They make me want to rip my skin off. I don't have a valid excuse; I'd wear stretch marks with pride if I could say that my skin stretched to accommodate a baby. But it didn't; some of these stretch marks appeared before I could even get pregnant. How freaking sad is that?
It's fucking torture to have to look in the mirror, to desperately want to see what everyone else apparently sees... but have it ruined by the fact that my body is laced in stretch marks, a constant reminder of how big I once was, and constantly distorting my body image...
How does that relate to me being uncomfortable? Because of how it's tricking me into thinking I'm still fat, when I'm obviously not.
It makes me laugh, in a macabre sort of way, that there's those thinspo groups out there promoting ED's as a way of life, saying that "once you're thin enough, you can wear skimpy clothing, ect." Ha... newsflash, people: it does NOT matter how fucking skinny you get, you're still going to feel like a fat ass. I use to fantasize about wearing tight/revealing clothing once I was "thin enough"... and still sometimes do. But the reality is, I hide my body. I'm thoroughly ashamed of it. I still think I'm too fat (despite knowing otherwise) to be wearing form fitting or revealing clothing. Heck, that's one reason I love cold weather so much; it means I can hide in layers and hoodies.
Bottom line is, I still feel very uncomfortable in my body, and it makes me excessively anxious... hence me turning to manage it in some not so practical ways...
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
I Sure As Hell Didn't See That One Coming
Note!: If you are currently struggling with an eating disorder... this post may be triggering. I won't mention numbers exactly, but there is some triggering stuff. Just an FYI.
I am stunned.
I was totally caught off guard last night. Vuni went to his parent's house for a little while yesterday evening, and when he came back, I could tell he was upset. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "My mom is really, really worried about you."
"Worried?... Why?"
"Because you're so skinny."
Ooof. Definitely didn't see that coming. At all.
And what really, really freaks me out is my thinking up until this point. I've mentioned in previous posts how my mother in law (Aren) and sis in law (Krisi) talk about dieting/exercise/weight loss around me all the freaking time, and how much it irks me. But I didn't exactly give the whole reason as to why; obviously, with my eating/body image issues, it's a sensitive topic to me anyways. Right. But the other thing, which I was afraid to admit... is I always worried that they talked about it excessively because they thought I maybe needed to lose weight. Maybe it was their subtle hints that I am too fat. Neither of them has ever commented on my weight/appearance... so it's always made me curious how they see me. Sadly, that very irrational part of my mind has always shouted, "Well, they think you're a fat ass, because you are one, duh."
So imagine my shock when, after all of this time irrational thoughts deluding my mind into thinking that they must see me as a blob, I hear that Aren is really worried about me being too thin.
It's things like this that make me realize just how utterly distorted my body image and irrational thoughts are. It terrifies me. How? How can I see a overweight, doughy body when everyone else sees the opposite? I just don't get it... and it's scaring the hell out of me.
I am stunned.
I was totally caught off guard last night. Vuni went to his parent's house for a little while yesterday evening, and when he came back, I could tell he was upset. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "My mom is really, really worried about you."
"Worried?... Why?"
"Because you're so skinny."
Ooof. Definitely didn't see that coming. At all.
And what really, really freaks me out is my thinking up until this point. I've mentioned in previous posts how my mother in law (Aren) and sis in law (Krisi) talk about dieting/exercise/weight loss around me all the freaking time, and how much it irks me. But I didn't exactly give the whole reason as to why; obviously, with my eating/body image issues, it's a sensitive topic to me anyways. Right. But the other thing, which I was afraid to admit... is I always worried that they talked about it excessively because they thought I maybe needed to lose weight. Maybe it was their subtle hints that I am too fat. Neither of them has ever commented on my weight/appearance... so it's always made me curious how they see me. Sadly, that very irrational part of my mind has always shouted, "Well, they think you're a fat ass, because you are one, duh."
So imagine my shock when, after all of this time irrational thoughts deluding my mind into thinking that they must see me as a blob, I hear that Aren is really worried about me being too thin.
It's things like this that make me realize just how utterly distorted my body image and irrational thoughts are. It terrifies me. How? How can I see a overweight, doughy body when everyone else sees the opposite? I just don't get it... and it's scaring the hell out of me.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
A Year Ago Today...
I was delirious from lack of sleep (did not sleep AT ALL during the night) and simultaneously very keyed up.
Last night was the one year anniversary of my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.
I'm not quite to one year of sobriety... that's not until November 22 (slipped twice, somewhat intentionally, in the first 30 days). But going to the AA meeting is one of the bravest things I have ever done. Nobody forced me to go. Nobody went with me. I, agoraphobic, anxious, shy Em, found the strength and the courage to walk into an AA meeting, full of strangers, alone.
Going to an AA meeting for the first time is scary enough when you're not a little ball of anxiety. I know, because of the countless stories I've heard. And, I mean, think about it... admitting that you have an addiction to alcohol, that you are letting your life be ruled by a nearly uncontrollable, never-ceasing craving to drink. It's embarrassing. It's shameful. Not only are you admitting this shit to yourself... you're admitting it to a room full of total strangers.
Needless to say, it takes a lot. Lots of inner strength, lots of courage. But it is very possible- and very worth it.
I'm still not convinced I need to abstain from alcohol my whole life.
Alcohol itself wasn't the thing I was addicted to; I was addicted to the way it made me feel. The rush of self-confidence it gave me. The way the room warmed and blurred, making everything seem "safe." The feeling of contentment. The numbness. The blacking out; not having to worry about insomnia. And the forgetfulness- in the morning I never remembered how stupid I'd behaved; I only knew what Vuni told me.
I'm proud to say that, while I feel a slight sense of longing for these things... it's such a fleeting desire. Like a veil hiding something hideous; pretty, but look beyond it, and there's nothing but despair. I still literally feel sick remembering the absolutely awful hangover I had a year ago yesterday. It was tempting to do the "easy" (and expensive) thing- my parents asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital/a detox center... but no. I felt I had to suffer the consequences of my actions. I needed to burn into my mind just how physically painful it was, how destructive alcohol could be. And this has helped me- because that memory has reminded me of why I need to stay away from alcohol. Why it's not worth slipping up.
I don't think I could ever get addicted to alcohol again, but now is not the time for me to be taking chances. I'd love to enjoy a tasty beer again, or margarita... but until I am more skilled at using positive coping methods, it's best that I stick to the sobriety path :)
Happy one year- never forget how brave you can be <3
Last night was the one year anniversary of my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.
I'm not quite to one year of sobriety... that's not until November 22 (slipped twice, somewhat intentionally, in the first 30 days). But going to the AA meeting is one of the bravest things I have ever done. Nobody forced me to go. Nobody went with me. I, agoraphobic, anxious, shy Em, found the strength and the courage to walk into an AA meeting, full of strangers, alone.
Going to an AA meeting for the first time is scary enough when you're not a little ball of anxiety. I know, because of the countless stories I've heard. And, I mean, think about it... admitting that you have an addiction to alcohol, that you are letting your life be ruled by a nearly uncontrollable, never-ceasing craving to drink. It's embarrassing. It's shameful. Not only are you admitting this shit to yourself... you're admitting it to a room full of total strangers.
Needless to say, it takes a lot. Lots of inner strength, lots of courage. But it is very possible- and very worth it.
I'm still not convinced I need to abstain from alcohol my whole life.
Alcohol itself wasn't the thing I was addicted to; I was addicted to the way it made me feel. The rush of self-confidence it gave me. The way the room warmed and blurred, making everything seem "safe." The feeling of contentment. The numbness. The blacking out; not having to worry about insomnia. And the forgetfulness- in the morning I never remembered how stupid I'd behaved; I only knew what Vuni told me.
I'm proud to say that, while I feel a slight sense of longing for these things... it's such a fleeting desire. Like a veil hiding something hideous; pretty, but look beyond it, and there's nothing but despair. I still literally feel sick remembering the absolutely awful hangover I had a year ago yesterday. It was tempting to do the "easy" (and expensive) thing- my parents asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital/a detox center... but no. I felt I had to suffer the consequences of my actions. I needed to burn into my mind just how physically painful it was, how destructive alcohol could be. And this has helped me- because that memory has reminded me of why I need to stay away from alcohol. Why it's not worth slipping up.
I don't think I could ever get addicted to alcohol again, but now is not the time for me to be taking chances. I'd love to enjoy a tasty beer again, or margarita... but until I am more skilled at using positive coping methods, it's best that I stick to the sobriety path :)
Happy one year- never forget how brave you can be <3
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