I feel like my creativity is lobotomized little by little every day I'm at this job. Nothing is valued, nothing is rewarded, and barely any acknowledgment is given most days.

I just feel like asking, 'If you're going to constantly overrule my opinion and not allow me to do my job, why do you think you have any business employing me? How about you just find a nice vendor over craigslist and abuse them over and over until they drop you as a client?'

It is really, really hard to stay focused and on track when your mind is working against you. I'm not talking about willpower or fatigue. I'm talking a serious chemical imbalance.

I mentioned in an earlier post about how my biggest hurdles are my own emotions. That was only a half truth. I'm a big believer in positive thinking and making the best of situations; and if you can't do that, then just do what you need to do, power through it, and get it done. Then you can have a glass of wine and hope things go better tomorrow.

Sometimes I have the strength to do that and it all works out wonderfully.
Sometimes I skip everything and go right to the glass of wine.
Sometimes I forget that I have depression, and that's when I get into trouble.

Anyone who has been physically injured knows that you have limits. You don't push yourself to the edge again and again just to prove you can. The reward for that stupidity is only more injuries.

Depression is an injury working against your happiness, sanity, and any passion you have for anything.  If it's not acknowledged and treated it will only get worse. Like a physical injury, if you push and push, you will be damaged permanently.

But I like to forget about my depression. I like thinking of myself as a little badass who can do anything despite any obstacle. I hate having this disability, this plague that tries to kill anything good inside me. I hate being afraid that people won't understand or worse, won't care when I try to open up to them. I hate that this will be with me my whole life, and how it will affect those around me. How tired they're going to get by trying to help me fight a battle they don't even understand.  The worst is when I try to explain to someone that depression is just something I have to live with and do the best I can despite it; and I get told that I just have to 'let go of my depression;' or when someone takes this post I wrote and thinks it was just me talking about a pair of shoes.

At that point I want to believe these people. I want to believe that I'm just making a bigger deal out of my problem than what's really there. I want to believe that I can get rid of it by sheer willpower.  But I can't. I know better than that. Knowing that I have a weakness that I can't just 'will away' keeps me strong. Knowledge is power and all that, I guess.

But some people will believe it.

They'll believe it because DEPRESSION LIES

Depression lies and will continue lying, convincing you of the most evil and heartless things possible. I've found the only way to treat it is to think of it as an annoying 'Dark Passenger' as Dexter would put it. Acknowledge it's presence, and don't believe a word it says.  If life is going great and you think the Passenger is gone, it can be a real shock when you suddenly hear it's voice in your head again- don't get caught off guard.

I've been off my meds since Christmas. Obviously they are a pretty important part of my ongoing treatment, and being off them for this long has had some pretty nasty side effects. But finally, finally I got a month's supply and I felt better. Knowing your brain is going to become chemically balanced in another day or two is a really nice light at the end of the tunnel.

Hopefully by next Monday I won't be battling my Passenger as hard as I have been, and I can get back to fighting for the things that the Passenger tried to take away from me. Things I'm passionate about.

And even if the Passenger is screaming in my ear--telling me I'm no good at these things, that no one likes what I do, that nothing I do will be worthwhile--I can continue fighting for these things anyway.

The fight goes on

Whenever I come out of a round of struggling with my depression, the relief is always incredible.  It makes no difference if I've been struggling with my worst despair for a year or if it's just been a miserable couple of weeks. It always surprises me when the relief comes. I'll catch myself enjoying the small fact that I can put my fall workout clothes on (even if they're a bit snug because I've gained a lot of weight since last year). I'll think, 'No more Counting Crows and Goo Goo Dolls, I want to listen to Lady Gaga.' I'll reach out to people I haven't talked to in awhile and ask them how things are going in their life, and really, really want to know.

Those aren't things I can enjoy when I'm struggling. Small, I know, but I'm optimistic in the way that makes sense to me.  As long as I don't feel like I'm trying to swim while carrying an anchor around my neck, I'm pretty effing happy.

Today is one of those days I'm resurfacing. After a few weeks of getting worked up by every little thing and doing nothing in my free time but drinking wine and watching TV, today I felt so much better. I've been eating better and drinking less and barely smoking (yes, I fell off the wagon a bit - don't judge. I'm doing much better than the last time I quit smoking and then quickly unquit), riding my bike into work more and going to be earlier.  Huh, funny how all those things combined actually make you feel better. Here I thought none of those things could really affect my mood.

So, I'm rewarding myself. After biking home I'm going to watch the rest of Die Hard and then work on my divorce papers. The date is coming up in October so I've got to get everything ready. I'm doing this on my own with no lawyer, so it's a little bit intimidating. But I've worked in a law office before and the paperwork really isn't anything horribly difficult (by lawyer standards). So it can and will be done.

Then I shall reward myself with some wine.

It's suicide awareness week and maybe some of the encouraging posts I've read on Facebook have helped me resurface. Also my brother told me that 'Tomorrow will be better.' Well, it isn't always, but sometimes the next day is. Or the next. Or the week after.

Depression Lies

Completely-unrelated-side-note:
I want to find (or sew) a dress just like this for my friend's wedding next September:

Perhaps I could wear it with my fierce shoes.

Grrrrr.

I have to ask myself: Do I even want to get better?

What am I doing this for?

To prove a goal? To try to be superwoman?

What's the point?

I'm stuck and I just feel like being miserable. To stop trying.

I was listening to a stupid romantic song and it just felt like the tug of war between my depression and who I want to be.

She = my brain struggling with depression
Me/I = who I want to be

She's all laid up in bed with a broken heart,
While I'm drinking jack all alone in my local bar,
And we don't know how,
How we got into this mad situation,
Only doing things out of frustration

Trying to make it work but man these times are hard,

She needs me now but I can't seem to find the time,
I've got a new job now on the unemployment line,
And we don't know how,
How we got into this mess
Is it god's test?
Someone help us 'cause we're doing our best,

Trying to make it work but man these times are hard

But we're gonna start by
Drinking old cheap bottles of wine,
Sit talking up all night,
Saying things we haven't for a while
A while, yeah
We're smiling but we're close to tears,
Even after all these years,
We just now got the feeling that we're meeting for the first time


Oh these times are hard,
Yeah they're making us crazy
Don't give up on me baby


But..still. Hope's there:

Don't try to understand crazy, you'll just go crazy trying.

I must have heard this phrase hundreds of times in the past two years. Anyone who has ever been with someone who has simply lost touch with reality can understand how much damage you can do to yourself by 'trying to understand.' It can be hard to let go, a lesson I am still trying to learn.

I obsess. I have an anxiety disorder, but I don't have OCD. I obsess over things so I can think rationally and learn how to best go about things.  I make lists on a daily basis, I keep excels of my daily budget and strive to save an extra $5 whenever possible. I am constantly taxing myself with how I can be more efficient and productive in my workday and even while I'm at home. I make schedules for when I have to work, exercise, play, sleep and do errands. I write things on my hand that I need to remember to do that day. Basically, I stress myself out trying to make sure I am a productive individual. If I don't accomplish everything I have on my list, I berate myself and work myself into a frenzy trying to learn why I didn't do everything and then adjust my week accordingly.

And as a result, I usually burn myself out trying to do everything and after a week or two of extreme-productiveness, I zone out and have a very difficult time staying committed.  

But when it's all things that I am responsible for and have control over, it doesn't bother me so much as I consider it a 'learning experience.' When things are out of my control is when I start to seriously lose my mind.

My ex is a person who has either:

a) lost touch with reality
b) never understood reality in the first place

For our entire marriage, I was the breadwinner.  90% of the time I was working 2 jobs and he was unemployed.  During the first 4 years of our marriage, we slowly stopped contributing equally and I took on all of the responsibilities. This included: bill paying, budgeting, housework, laundry, and supporting my ex emotionally. What did he do? Not much. He cooked a little, took care of the dog and picked up groceries when he wasn't looking for work. (translation: he did 5% of the work and thought he was doing 50-60% Don't ask me how he thought this made sense, read the quote at the top of the post if you need reminding)

He didn't start off like this when we were dating. But once the opportunity came up, he became perfectly complacent with doing less and less and letting me take care of everything, all while thinking he was a perfectly good husband and I had it so good.

When I left him, I was still the one working two jobs and he had nothing. So I continued to pay for things I had been paying for. My reasoning was that if we did end up getting back together, I wouldn't want him resenting me for thinking money was more important than our marriage. It's embarrassing how much I gave this boy without him barely saying thank you. God forbid he actually pay his share of these things. I payed for his rent, our car (which I didn't use and he kept), insurance, premiums, food and insurance for the dog, and the entire phone bill.

I did this for a year, even though we were still separated.

I never got a dime from him for any of these things.

Of course, I was watching how he was using the money I was giving him. He would take all this money and we'd still get hit with late fees from the car insurance. He needed extra money to take our dog to the vet. He would ask to borrow money and never returned it to me. He took our entire tax return and spent it, saying that it was his money to spend because he saved the money from his own paychecks.

After a year, I told him I would not be paying his rent anymore. He bombarded me with text messages and emails. He left voicemails on my phone day and night, telling me I had no right to do this and how I was kicking him and the dog onto the streets.  Whenever I stopped paying for something I shouldn't pay for, I got the same treatment. He'd dig his heels in and tell me what I was doing wasn't fair - how I had no right to take these things away from him.

This happened for another year. I'd take things away - he would act out like a child. Then he would ask me to come home, how he could be a better husband.

I filed for a divorce last October. The first court date was in April and he changed it to June. The next court date was scheduled for August and he changed it to October. He has been fighting me tooth and nail for this, because he truly believes that we had a good marriage and he can be a good husband if I would just give him another chance.

He doesn't understand that I took care of him like he was my child. He doesn't see that he would act like an infant whenever I caught him lying. He truly believes that he did the best he could and couldn't possibly do any better.  He says he wants his wife back - and I believe he means it. What he doesn't understand is that truly, subconsciously, he wants that time back when he was free of most of life's responsibilities and had someone there to cater to his needs.

This is why you don't try to understand crazy. I have been trying for over 2 years and I've gotten nowhere.
 
And, as a result of his irresponsible behavior and my need to be productive and understand where my money is going, I have completely lost it the past 6 months.  I was doing alright until the first court date was supposed to happen. He asked to change it at the last minute and I agreed. He made the excuse that he couldn't take that day off because of his job. I wanted to do the right thing and try to make this as easy for him as possible (I still harbor some unnecessary guilt for leaving).

 After that I started falling apart.

I spent my energy obsessing over what he was doing with the money I was still giving him, how he could spend $200 on cable every month but never somehow offer to give me $50 as a token of goodwill and a 'thank you.'

 He kept sending me emails and texts about how much he missed me and how he wanted to have me come home. He played on every single goodwill I still had inside me and used up all of my resources to be a considerate person to someone who had taken so much from me. He made me feel guilty and played every manipulative card he had in his hand. 

I should have been able to ignore him and not allow him to use me like he had for our entire marriage. Should. But I couldn't.  My self-worth plummeted and I stopped going to therapy. I stopped talking to friends because I had already made the decision to divorce him and he wasn't saying anything new, so what did I have to discuss? He made me feel like I was a bad person, so I stopped exercising or caring about what I was doing to myself. I noticed I was gaining weight and losing perspective but I couldn't seem to bring myself back to that obsessive person who took care of herself and her life. I now had to obsess to understand what my ex was doing to me and how on earth he could treat me like dirt. I had given him everything in every possible way and what he was doing to me just didn't make sense.

I replaced my daily schedule with keeping track of  the money he was taking out of the bank. I combed through pictures he was taking of the dog and tried to figure out if he was losing weight because my ex wasn't feeding him enough. I stopped making a workout regime and instead printed out emails and text messages that proved he was lying to me about this or that. Instead of just cutting him off, I kept trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, doing all these things to try to prove that I was wrong, that I'm the one who kept getting things mixed up and how he really was just having a run of bad luck. That's why he couldn't pay for things, that's why he wasn't acting like an adult.

I can't say that any of what I was doing made sense. I was trying to understand crazy. 

I'm not sure how much progress I can make before he's out of my life completely. I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to get every trace of him out of my life. I could wish that when we're officially not married anymore, everything would fall into place.  But that's not going to happen. 

I'm angry at myself for obsessing over things that I allowed him to take control over. I'm angry at myself for losing my creativity, for letting myself go, and for losing precious minutes, hours, and days trying to 'figure him out.'

For what?

I learned nothing except that he is a boy, a man-child. And that child is trying to ruin my life because I ruined his by walking out. 

Ok, so things are getting weird.

And by weird, I mean better.

So, I've made some serious life changes which I want to keep up with, and I have some pretty big goals that I can accomplish.

I quit smoking. Granted, it's only been 1 day. I'm sure I haven't had the worst of it yet. But it's something. And within one day, my mind has turned to other things to focus on.

I've been biking to work a lot for the past few weeks. And after a few flat tires and some trips to the bike shop and asking my boyfriend a ridiculous amount of questions, I feel like I have a rhythm down. Or at least I plan on commuting on my bike unless something happens.  I'm trying to see if I can only put $20 on my Charlie Card for this month and see if that's all I need. Which would be nice. $70/month for a monthly pass? I'm sorry, that won't do. Then it jumps to $140 if I get a commuter rail pass. Totally insane.

The added bonus of biking on almost a daily basis is the amount of cardio I get just by getting to work and back. Considering that I'm just getting back into working out again, it's good to have something that forces me to work out every day. Anything else I do is bonus.

And I'm not doing that much more, but at least I'm not sitting around saying, 'I can't do that until I quit smoking.' (and then continue to smoke with no plan to quit)

But, I want to be athletic again. I remember when I wanted to run my first marathon. I hadn't ever really run before, I never really liked running either, and at that point I couldn't run more than a half mile without almost passing out.

Eight months after I made the decision to start running, I ran my first marathon in 4:32. I don't know how I trained, I just clocked the miles. No interval training, no coaching. Just me and my sneakers and the Charles River.

Now, I want to get back to that. Not for vanity or for gloating ability, but just because I can.

It's not going to be that hard to reach a personal record for me for just about any race I run, because I've run 2 marathons and a 5k. That's it. I feel like I train for things backwards.

So, here's the goal(s):

I want to be able to run a 7 minute mile. Keep in mind, I've never run anything faster than a 8:05 min/mile.

I want to qualify for the Boston Marathon in 2014 (I'll still be 30 then, and I feel that would be a good reward to welcome myself into my next decade)

I want to run a 3:15 marathon. (I'd need to run 3 hour 35 min to qualify for Boston, but Boston is filling up faster and faster every year, and not everyone who qualifies gets to run. So I want to aim low)

A 3:15 marathon requires me to run a 7:30 minute mile pace the whole 26.2 miles. I want to know if an ex-smoker can do this.

I have about 14 months to accomplish all these things.

The super-insane thing is I think I can do it. After all, I am clearly a glutton for punishment.

...but the shoes are an important part.

This has been a really, really rough couple of years. Not just for me, but for my friends as well.  All of us agreed that 2011 was a real bitch and that 2012 better pay off the screw-ups of the previous year. 

Last year things were so bad that I didn’t want to acknowledge my birthday.  I didn’t want to celebrate anything , because I was so angry and scared and frustrated with the situation I was in. My depression was worse than it ever had been before, and I was in a deep, dark hole where I couldn’t see any light. I had been in that situation so long I began to wonder if I’d ever see light again. Many times, I didn’t care if I would. That was terrifying. Why would you want to celebrate anything if you’re in that dark of a place? So I totally refused to acknowledge it.  I had to work, and many people wished me a happy birthday, but I didn’t want to hear it. I was downright grumpy and got irritated with people who wanted to wish me well.

Luckily, I made it out. I still have depression, but with the right meds and therapy and a lot of help from my friends, it’s a bit more under control.  But the scars of that time are still fresh in my mind. And it scares me still.

Because of a very brave and extremely funny woman, I started reading thebloggess.  And last week, read her post about the Traveling Red Dress project. Read about it here.

And I wanted to celebrate my birthday.  I wanted to face the sun and smile when people wished me well. I wanted to remind myself that I am no longer in that deep, dark hole I never thought I’d escape from and I am going forward.

You know what I wanted?

Shoes.

I have 5 pairs of shoes:
Work non-slip shoes
Running shoes
Sneakers
Flip flops
Black pumps (I got these from payless for $12 because I couldn't justify spending any more than that on 'impractical footwear')

I wanted some impractical footwear.

Very impractical. And expensive. And vibrant. And completely unnecessary.

I wanted bright yellow pumps. Think highlighter yellow and so dazzling you’d have to look away if you stared at them for more than a few seconds.

Last weekend, I visited 20 different stores to try to find these shoes.  Apparently, they’re ‘all the rage’ this spring and everyone was sold out, or didn’t have them in my size, or they weren’t exactly what I was looking for.  Finally, the last store I went to had them. I tried them on, expecting to feel amazing and powerful and strong. 


...and they looked cheap. And they didn’t fit well. And I thought, "I’m supposed to slip into these shoes and feel totally beautiful and confidant and sexy.  These make me feel like a trashy slut." And I started to feel the wave of darkness coming back. 

I practically ran out of the store and instead went back to Aldo, where I had first looked. I had tried on these shoes that I thought I could order in yellow, but it didn’t work out.  But the shoes I had tried on were so vibrant, so stunning. 

Just. Fierce.

I bought the shoes without a second thought and ran home and told Lucas that he needed to meet me to take pictures of me in these shoes right now. He was surprisingly very ok with this idea. (I have the best friends!!)


So he came over, we went outside and over to the park across from my house.  I started getting extremely nervous and thought, "What am I doing? I hate being the center of attention and here I'm making friends take pictures of me because of what? Shoes? Plus, there's people in that park!!" I started backing up, back to my house. Lucas gave me the look that said 'What are you getting nervous about? We are taking those pictures in the park and you WILL put those shoes on and deal with it.' I sighed, nodded, and walked with him to the park, thinking this was a horrible idea, the whole thing.

This is the face of regret and anxiety.

 But we didn't go back inside.  Lucas kept taking pictures. And in 15 minutes I had transformed from scared, anxious, nervous little girl:
 To someone willing to take a step into the unknown:


And then this happened:
And I transformed. I felt beautiful and strong.


The sun had come out, and I felt so much joy. I felt wonderful, like I deserved all these good feelings. I was worth it. 


Now, I can point out from these pictures over 100 things I would like to change about myself physically, I'm not perfect and never will be, but I felt like a totally beautiful person while wearing those shoes.





We all need that. We all need that indulgent thing that isn't practical but makes us feel special and important. Something simple that takes your breath away with how great it makes you feel. The bloggess has the traveling red dress, I have the non-traveling birthday shoes.








Step away from yourself riddled with anxiety, or fear, or depression.  Figure out how to bring out that smart, sexy, confidant person who loves themselves despite their flaws.  I just did.




And it felt amazing.  It only took 15 minutes, a pair of shoes, and a good friend.


I'm very lucky.


Happy birthday to me :)

I've tried to get back into running again. The last 5 months I've done pretty much zero physical activity, minus running around the restaurant. And I've been smoking, so I've been putting off running because I know I'm going to have to quit sometime soon, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it.

I think about doing a 30 minute run, and it shocks me how intimidating it feels. A 30 minute run used to be nothing for me, even a few months ago I wouldn't have thought twice about it. Now it feels impossible.

I'm going to have to do it though, I'm getting out of shape, and right now I need to feel good about myself.

That is, besides everything I know about the publishing business, and how to make Chinese food, and the workings of a restaurant. But really, what else do I know??

People know about sports. Though I'm from Buffalo and a loyal Bills and Sabres fan, most of my information about both teams is vague and general, about as much as someone from Boston would know about the Bills. It's pretty embarrassing when people try to talk to me about my home team, and not only can I not make any sort of comment about how I think the team is doing this year, but I can't make any kind of educated comments about what happened during the 'dark years' (the 4 year superbowl fail), not about players, not about scores, nothing. I hate sounding ignorant. But to be involved in sports, you actually have to watch them. Read about them. I don't know if I'm just not interested or if I just don't have the time, or if I'm not interested because I don't have the time to invest. I enjoy watching sports. Anything but baseball pretty much. I just wish I could talk about it more.

People know about music. They know artists names and how they develop. The history of music, what's old school, what's up and coming, and have educated opinions about artists and their talent. I enjoy listening to music, my tastes have developed more, but I can't hold my own in a conversation about any type of music. Maybe I just need to branch out and just listen to stuff, take notes on artists, borrow CD's. All this just to sound more educated about music.

People know about stuff. Generally, I feel like half the time I feel lost in a conversation about a lot of things. It's not just conversations, I don't really know how to dance, I don't really have any hobbies that interest other people (I guess when I was doing muay thai that was interesting, but hey, I've lost that too). I know my way around a computer, but I'm far from a nerd or someone who can fix your computer. If you have a shitty layout for a newspaper, that's where I'm superwoman.

It's not that I don't enjoy music or sports and I'm just trying to impress someone by learning about them. I just want to have stuff to talk about, to be a good conversationalist. I like making people laugh. But when people ask me what I've been up to, I want to have something to say.

I guess right now I just feel lost. I'm feeling a complete loss of identity and I'm trying to create a new one. In my new identity I'd rather not work 3 jobs and feel completely exhausted all the time. Beyond that, I don't know what I'd like, but I'd like to fill my life with good things. Like a fruit basket - an expensive fruit basket. I've filled my life with suffering and misery for the past few years, and any glimpse of happiness was overshadowed by the impending doom of reality; now I'd like to fill it with good things that make me happy. First I have to figure out what those things are.

It's no surprise that I haven't been doing anything much lately besides working. In addition to my job at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt and P.F. Chang's, I've picked up a freelance project - designing a math book. It's nothing to brag about, but the client I'm working with really likes me, and thinks I'm super fast and spectacular. Perhaps this will lead to more freelance work in the future.

I stopped going to Muay Thai in April for personal reasons. I've thought about going back a lot, and a lot of people from the gym have been trying to get me back. Most of them have no clue the reason why I left, so it's hard to explain why I can't make class next week. One of the things I hated most about Muay Thai was one of the best things about it. Sensei Marcelo saw potential in me, and he always wanted me to make more classes, to work harder. He was only happy when I was there working out 4-5 times a week for 2-3 hours at a time. Anything less than that he kept hounding me to come to more classes or just to come kick the bag. I didn't enjoy being hounded and feeling like I wasn't working hard enough. If I was able to make it to the gym 10 hours a week after working 80 hours at my job, the last thing I wanted was to feel like I wasn't working hard enough. That made me resentful and angry.

So for now, no Muay Thai. I'm trying very hard to be nice to myself (it's actually pretty difficult), so I don't need to put myself in a situation where I feel pressured and guilty for doing the best I can by someone who has no clue why I do what I do.

Running? I should be running. It would probably help everything that I'm dealing with right now. Unfortunately, I've been smoking too, so that makes running more difficult. I know I shouldn't think so much, just go out for a run, let my mind wander and go as far as I want to go. But it feels like just one more thing I have to do. Another obligation. But I know it would make me feel better if I stuck to it. Even better, my Mom thinks so too. Mom is usually right about things like this.

My life has got to become something besides work. But at this point, I've been working like this for so long, I've taken a sort of pride in it. People tell me that they 'don't know how I can keep working as hard as I do,' and 'they could never do what I do.' I doubt that, but still, I take pride in my endurance. If I'm anything but completely exhausted from work at the end of the day, I feel like I didn't work hard enough. I feel lazy almost. But then I complain that I don't have any time for myself (although when I get it, I don't know what to do with it). Plus, what on earth could possibly make me special if I work a normal schedule like everyone else does?

I wish at the very least I could get excited about weekends like everyone else.

So, it's been a few weeks; I'm still sucking at sparring and it rattles me every time. I've had one good sparring session after I got 'hit,' but every other one has been challenging. And it's not all in my head either. My sparring partners have told me after that I was hesitant, flinching, or even closing my eyes. Honestly, I don't know what is wrong with me. I'm not exactly afraid of getting hit, but when I see punches coming at me, I sort of freeze and can't react. I'm also told this is a natural reaction to violence, and since I've never been in a fight before (who, me?), I haven't conditioned myself to automatically defend myself, let alone obliterate my opponent.

Sensei Marcello told Sean once that women aren't naturally violent as men are, and it can be more difficult for women to get over the fear of being in a physical confrontation. I'm not sure how much I agree with this statement, because that means I'll probably have a long road to go before I won't get rattled every sparring session.

That one time I sparred and did well was the class after I got hit. I simply focused on defending myself, my footwork, and keeping my chin down. Other than that, I think it was luck that I did so well. There's been a few days since then when I've wondered if I'm really cut out for Muay Thai. If I'm not happy with my preformance then I'm not doing good enough. I want so badly to be good at this, but I want it all at once. I made a list last time about things I need to work on, and while it was a good idea, I didn't follow through. I didn't think about what I wanted to achieve before each Muay Thai class. I didn't have a goal, so there wasn't going to be any way in hell I could have satisfied myself with my performance, even if it was my best yet.

Sean suggested making a playlist that I only listen to when I'm on my way to class, just to get myself in the mindset that I'm about to go fight and to leave everything else outside. And to review my list of goals before each class, and just focus on that. Work on those things for a week, then reevaluate. If I'm comfortable with, let's say, keeping my chin down, and I'm doing it without thinking about it, then I can move on to the next goal. If I'm still struggling with it, I'll take another week.

Repeat this process until I'm better than Gina Carano.

This week:
Keeping my chin down, and my footwork--move around more, step in and out, don't just stand there and get beat up.

I've said it once and I'll say it again:

Getting hit in the face sucks.

But, as I've said so many times whenever I get struck in Muay Thai, it's my own damn fault.

Last night I was sparring with a new guy. A big guy. At least a foot taller than me and maybe 200 pounds. He had a pinched nerve or something so we decided to just box, no kicking. At first I thought this was great, I could just work on my punches, but I quickly realized this guy had a significant reach on me. At first I was doing alright, countering his punches or dodging them, but I kept eating punches because I didn't keep my chin down, and I was going to have to figure out a way to get close to him without getting hit over and over. Normally, I'd just kick him and work my way in since I have long legs, but that was out. Finally, I figured I'd just have to go balls to the wall and take the punches, and then keep moving in and get a good combo or two. This was probably not a good idea. I brought an extra level of aggression to the table which I shouldn't have done.

So I went after this guy, and I wasn't thinking, and didn't put my chin down and left myself open. I can only blame myself for the straight punch he threw. He had gloves on, but that really didn't prevent me from seeing stars. I've been hit in the face before, but not like this. I couldn't see. I backed off from fighting and held onto the cage for a minute or two. I was fine, I just felt like such a weakling. I was pissed off because Sensei has been telling me for weeks that I need to keep my chin down when fighting, and although I was aware of it, I wasn't really thinking about it, just like I wasn't thinking of staying on my toes so I could have moved out of the way.

I was thinking, "How do I get in there and land a good strike?" I tend to think on the offensive, but act defensively. During sparring, I wait for punches and try to counter and land a combo. I hate my hesitation, because I don't want to be afraid to fight, and I think I am a little bit at this point. The best I can usually do is try to execute a combo we learned in class that day. Things go so fast during sparing and I think too much.

I got back to sparing after taking a minute, but I was totally gunshy the rest of class. I might as well have just been standing there with my hands down. At one point, I just froze and got hit in the face (lightly) by another student, and he asked me what was wrong. I was pissed, and shaking I was so upset at myself. I was relieved when we stopped sparring and I could just leave. I wasn't fighting smart anymore.

I know what I need to work on, but it's not coming together fast enough. And now I'm taking Jiu Jitsu, so I have a whole new sport to focus on and dive right into. I have to use my time more wisely and work on my weaknesses one by one. I can't just rely on classes 3 times a week and and expect things to fall into place.

Weaknesses
Keeping my chin down
Staying on my toes and moving around
Judging distance for kicks and punches
Dropping hands when being kicked or punched in the gut
Forgetting combo attacks
Going too hard in sparring sessions and running out of gas, and making stupid mistakes
(not) Breathing out through the mouth and in through the nose

First thing is keeping my chin down. I'm spending this week focusing on that. Sean bought me a small tennis ball to put between my chin when I'm practicing. I know I'm going to be chasing that little ball all around the gym. Good thing no one brings their dog to practice.

Things have sucked lately. So, instead of obsessing and over-thinking everything, I decided to throw myself into hardcore training for Muay Thai. Monday-Friday mornings I have conditioning and running, then Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday I have 3-4 hours straight of Muay Thai and Jiu Jitsu. I'm hoping this schedule will chisle me into a technical and strong fighter, and leave me too damn tired to think about anything else but work. Mornings have been hard because it's dark outside at 6am when I wake up, and it's going to start snowing soon. I'll be fine on the mornings I have to run, but on conditioning days (jump rope, pylometrics, sprinting), I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I don't have a gym to go to anymore, and I have to be realistic. I'm not going to shovel out a section on my driveway to jump rope or risk slipping on some ice trying to sprint up the hill by my house. I'm going to have to find something else to do.

The main thing I have to focus on is developing my fast-twitch muscle fibers. Years of distance running and endurance sports has made my slow twitch fibers tough as hell. But when I spar with someone, I can't finish a 3 minute round without getting winded.

This crazy schedule has really been amazing though. I'm digging out my clothes from the back of my closet that I haven't worn in 3 years, and anything physical I have to do at the restaurant has been a piece of cake (running up 2 flights of stairs every 10 minutes used to really kill me).

The only unfortunate thing about this schedule is I've really slacked on the running. I can only run 3 days a week. Awhile back I read about the FIRST Training Program on Runners World, and I figured with my schedule i was the only way I could accomplish a half marathon with any kind of planning. Sure, I could probably just run and run and run some more, then run a lot on race day (for a half marathon anyway, I wouldn't be so cocky about a full), but that's pretty half assed. And I like having a plan for running. It's stable and structured and goal oriented. It's a balance to Muay Thai. And my goals have switched anyway. The New Orleans Half Marathon is now more of a reason for me to go see my friend and not for me to PR or qualify for Boston.

Hopefully Muay Thai, running, Houghton and P.F. Chang's will keep me busy enough. If that fails, I'm sure I could pick up another hobby.

Running is going to take a back seat for awhile. I've been training in Muay Thai for a few months now, and the more I train, the more I love it. I'm trying to find ways to fit more classes into my schedule, and next month I'm planning on picking up Brazilian Jiu Jitsu as well. Right now, I'm only going 3 times a week for an hour or two, sometimes staying late or getting to class early. However, next week I can start taking women's classes in addition to the regular Muay Thai classes. It'll completely eat up any free time I thought I had, but I'm actually ok with it. Not just ok, I'm beyond excited to be doing this. Actually, I feel blessed that I have as much time as I can to be doing this, and to be working someone so accomplished as Marcelo Siqueira, the owner and head instructor of the school.

This is a totally new area for me to be exploring. No one in my family is athletic, much less a fighter. At first, I was just planning on taking Muay Thai to get in shape (I'm already down to 135 - lighter than I've been since college), but after a few months of classes, I really want more from it.

This could, in part, be because it seems as though Marcelo has taken an interest in me. He's pushing me to start BJJ, and when he's teaching the class, if there's an odd man out, he'll work on technique with me. I haven't seen him do this with anyone else, unless that person is a beginner. At first I was confused, I thought that he was only working with me because I sucked so bad. But Sean does BJJ at the same school, and has been there for about a year now, and he knows Marcelo better than I do. He told me three things:

-Unlike other instructors who don't give up on any student, Marcelo only specifically works with students who he feels has potential. He doesn't have a lot of pity.
-Marcelo doesn't push everyone to come to more classes or to take on an extra sport. He's always telling me I should come to more classes and to start taking BJJ.
-My technique isn't amazing. I am not wonder girl, one of those people who steps into the sport and picks up everything perfectly and swiftly. But, that doesn't matter, because what I have is game and heart. You can teach technique, you can teach style, but you can't teach heart.

Of course this made my head swell up to the size of a watermelon. Does Marcelo really think I have potential? I've never, by any means, been considered an athlete, but then again, I've never had the drive to do anything like I have for Muay Thai, not even running a marathon. Running a marthon was about proving something to myself, but with Muay Thai, I want to fight. If I was just doing this to prove something to myself, I could be proud that I'm really the only girl in that school who takes Muay Thai and fights with the guys. Or that after a few months or years, I could be confident knowing that I could defend myself if something ever happened to me. But I want to get in the cage and show that my hard work and focus has paid off. It's not just beating someone up or winning a match. It's about getting in there and showing your game.

And, unlike running, when I felt like I was 'tough enough' to cut corners, cut workouts, sneak a cigarette in here or there - I know I can't do that with Muay Thai. I don't want to sacrifice the opportunity I have here.

So my schedule is going to be insane. When I'm not working, I'll be at the gym.

**I had to take note, because although at times I feel like I'm on the top of the world, I have bad days at the gym, usually after sparing(and usually only if I feel like I've run out of steam). I included the link below to remind myself that I'm not the only one who feels that way, and to remember to leave all my personal shit outside the gym. Self doubt, anxieties, fear, and exhaustion - all that gets left outside the ring.**
http://www.fightergirls.net/phpBB/viewtopic.php?t=3548

Almost a year ago, my good friend Jeff moved down to New Orleans. It was a real smart move on his part, he had lived in Western New York (or Syracuse) his whole life, and he has the talent and drive to make it anywhere; I thought it would be great for him to get some new experiences and just live somewhere different for awhile. As is the phenomenon of Buffalo, I've found that if you've grown up in the WNY area, and you don't go somewhere else for college (I'm talking 3+ hour drive away, so not necessarily terribly far), you usually don't ever get out. Buffalo isn't a bad town, but I think everyone who has grown up there needs to live somewhere else for awhile. If, for nothing else, to get away from the snow.

::side note: I love snow, I am not bashing snow here::

Anyway, so Jeff and his lovely girlfriend are living in New Orleans now. And I want to go visit him. Luckily, so does another friend of ours, Joey. Joey has recently picked up running as a hobby and is actually running a half marathon this weekend. I'm so proud of him. He asked me for running advice when he first started out.

The past couple of times I've actually had a vacation, I've only been able to justify the trip with a marathon. I don't take vacations ever, and I almost feel guilty if I take the time off of work and I go somewhere and I don't race. Sounds crazy, but that's how I roll. And I haven't trained for a marathon in over a year, and I actually miss it. I miss getting up early on a saturday morning to hash out 12 or 16 miles.

New Orleans' marathon is Feburary 28th. I figured that would be a perfect time to take a vacation, see Jeff, and run a marathon with Joey. It's like killing 3 birds with one stone. That gives me about 6 months to train for the marathon(or half marathon if I want to be realistic-but who wants that?). This would be a big thing for me, since I've never run a marathon with a friend before. I've had friends meet me out on the course and run a bit with me, or just give me a bottle of water, but never the whole way through.

Hell, as long as we're not being realistic, why don't I shoot to qualify for Boston?

Why not indeed.

My sister gave me a book, The Temperament God Gave You, and although I never, ever read, I decided to give it a try. This isn't a post about Spirituality, or even about reading, it's about understanding my own temperament.

The book lays out 4 specific temperaments, traits that you're born with that determine the type of person you are. Not exactly personality traits, but an explanation of what makes you tick. Wikipedia does a mediocre job of explaining the temperaments, but it's better than nothing if you have no clue what I'm talking about. I'd suggest reading the book. It's not all about Christianity and Spirituality either.

It was pretty fun to read about the different temperaments and figuring out which one I was. One stood out plain as day: I am Phlegmatic. Basically, that means I'm a calm, laid back person who appreciates harmony and peace. And not the hippie-like 'Why can't we all just get along?' crap. Really, I'm a peacemaker. I always have been since I was a little kid. I can empathize with others and I'm very loyal, but I don't wear my heart on my sleeve and I'm usually pretty quiet and passive. However, I also have a tendency to be downright lazy, I shrink away from conflict and I can be very resistant to change, especially if it forces me to change a schedule that I've meticulously set up for myself.

I also tend to gravitate to doing what other people want to do and not realize that I might not be doing what I want to do, because I want to make other people happy and that's what makes me happy. Does that make sense? It made sense to me. In all of my past relationships, I've picked up tons of hobbies that I did because my boyfriend wanted to do it with me. Most things I enjoyed well enough, but when the relationship ended, so did that activity. My main reminder of this is the samurai sword I have hidden away in my closet.

One thing really struck me about the characteristics of a Phlegmatic. They are difficult to motivate and have a tendency to be lazy (in a physical sense). Also, they need a lot of positive encouragement (more so than other temperaments), and tend to withdraw when nagged, criticized, or sometimes, even when challenged.

Instantly, I thought about running. I have always had difficulty getting out there and running, motivating myself, and I always wondered why this was so difficult for me to do if I really enjoyed doing it? Also, no one 'got' me into running. It's one of the only things that I chose to do on my own, without any prodding from anyone. It's something I've held onto for a long time because I realized the importance of that. However, should something I enjoy be a constant challenge for me? And I'm not talking about challenges like completing a 50 miler, or running a 6 minute mile. I'm talking about waking up every morning and going out there and just doing it. After reading and understanding a little more about my temperament, I think I'm starting to understand that yes, running will always be a challenge. It will always be tough for me to go against my natural tendencies and preferences and get out there and be active, to constantly push myself even though I don't like being pushed-it tends to make me regress into a passive state. Perhaps, after knowing that I'm motivated by what other people want to do and in my need to make other people happy, I should join a running club, or do a relay marathon, something where I know people are counting on me to run and to keep up my part.

However, I do like how I've made running such an individual activity. I am a very independent person and especially with my insane schedule, I need as much free time as I can get. I need time away from other people and even away from my dog so I don't gravitate to my natural state of attaining order and making everyone happy. I know I need time to listen to myself and just do what I want to do. Unfortunately, motivating myself is much more than 'Just do it!'

I guess I haven't really figured out anything, maybe when I'm working less and have more free time I'll join a running club, since I think that will really encourage me to run since I'll be around other people who enjoy the same activity. But right now, I'll keep running personal. It's holding my nose above water and encouraging me to keep treading water until I can get enough strength to pull myself out of this situation.

Stuff's been happening lately. Big stuff. Stuff that makes me go back to smoking like a chimney. I was really proud of my healthy eating (I wasn't even drinking diet coke anymore!), and how much work I was doing, getting up early and going to Muay Thai.

Most of that has gone to shit for now. I know I'll get back to it, but right now, I have to sort some shit out.

Remember playing dodgeball in elementary school PE(gym) class? If you didn't, you either didn't grow up in this country, or I went to a way more WASP-y school than I thought. I was awesome at dodgeball. Most of the time, I was the last player standing after everyone else had been tagged out. If we were playing the 'prisioner' version of dodgeball, I was usually able to 'rescue' most of my team, because I played softball, and I could throw accurately. I loved playing dodgeball because I wasn't terribly awesome at any other sport - ever (yeah, I was pretty bad at softball too).

Though, despite all my aweseome feats, I dreaded the beginning of class when it came time to pick the teams. Since I wasn't popular in just about any group, I was picked last every time. You know, the last two people are a) the most unpopular girl in class, and b) the smelly/weird girl. Usually the smelly/weird girl got picked first. I'm sure everyone's been the last one picked at some point, and it sirs up a host of insecurities that you thought you got over in high school.

I call it the Dodgball eEffect.

I've been going to Muay Thai 3-4 times a week for a steady 2 months now, and you would have thought by now that most of the guys in the class wouldn't be scared to hit a girl. Yet whenever our sensei, Marcelo, tells us to pair up, I know that if there's an odd number of students in the class, I'll be sparring against Marcelo for the first round. As soon as I look around me to non-verbally ask, 'You wanna pair up?' with anyone, their eyes dart away and search for someone else. This happens a few more times. The Dodgeball Effect. I hate it. I am left without a partner and Marcelo steps in to spar with me.

I guess I can't blame it all on the fact that I'm the only girl in class, it could be because I'm new. But I know most of the guys there at least by name by now. And I should be excited to spar with Marcelo, after all, it's practically like I'm getting a private lesson from him, but sparing with anyone who is a black belt or above is terrifying. Not because I'm afraid they're going to hit me (black belts have more control over their movements; and as I've discussed before, sparring is not code for being the crap out of someone), but because I feel like every second I'm being judged. I know I'm not, and I know no one expects me to do practically anything right because I'm a white belt. But since I am overly critical of myself and I always expect the worst, no rational argument has been able to keep me from thinking that all Marcelo is thinking is, 'This girl sucks.'

I know I'm getting better though, because everyone from Marcelo to the other instructors in class have told Sean (he does Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu there) that I'm doing well. And Sean doesn't ask them how I'm doing, so there'd be no reason for them to say that if it wasn't true. It sounds stupid, but I really do feel the need to be better than 'average.' And yes, mainly that's because I'm surrounded by boys. Even though I'm a total tomboy and I've always run with the boys, this feels different. This is competetive. Fun, yes, but competetive. I'm already thinking about how I might want to fight in a year or two. Though I'd be fighting only against other girls, they also would be as tough as the boys, and that's what i want.

Toughness. It's not enough for me to be 'tough for a girl,' just tough.

Sidenote: I weighed myself in the morning and right before I went to bed last night(yeah, i know i shouldn't weigh myself so much, but i just couldn't help it), and I actually weighed less in the evening than I did in the morning! Thank you Muay Thai practice and 5 mile run!

It helps a lot to have a dog who can adapt to a new routine like clockwork within a week.

For the past few days I've been getting better at getting up at 5:30 and going for a short run. Most days, I took the dog with me, to kill two birds with one stone. I still don't really like taking Snow out on my runs. Picture yourself getting out of bed and lazily putting on your running clothes and shoes. You're just about out the door when your 8 year old starts crying and begging you to take him with you on your run. You agree begrudgingly (pretend you're a really slow runner and you're not going far at all). You and your kid start running, and all goes well for about a half mile. Then the kid gets bored with running. It stops to look at something, darts in front of you making you lose your stride, at one point the kid just starts sprinting towards a busy road and you have to run after it to stop your silly child from being flattened (or pretend you've put the kid on a leash, you still get pulled every which way by their movements). This continues for the next mile or so. After that, your kid gets tired, they fall behind, they use any excuse at all to slow down or stop completely. You tell yourself that you'll never take your kid on another one of your runs. The next morning, the kid comes into your room, 20 minutes before your alarm goes off, jumps on your bed and starts whining about why you haven't gotten up and taken him to run yet.

I have no idea why I had to use a kid in the above scenario. I could have just told you about what my dog does and it would have made perfect sense. I've been told that I compare children to dogs a lot. Before you get huffy, think about it. They really do share a lot of the same qualities.

I guess it's not as bad as it sounds, because he gets a little better with every run, but it's tough right now. Hopefully one day he'll be a dog I'll barely notice during my runs, and maybe one day after that I'll really look forward to running with him.

However, he adapts to one thing quite well. For the past few mornings, if I'm not already out of bed and on my way out by 5:50, he whines and cries and begs me to get out of bed. I don't know if he wants to go for a run or he just has to pee, but either way, it gets me up when the snooze button is so tempting to keep hitting (even though Sean hates it when I do that).

And getting up in the morning is actually easier than I thought. I've been feeling better and happier in general, and I wouldn't say I have more energy throughout the day, but it's not as much of a struggle as it was only a few weeks ago. I'll bet there's a lot of other circumstances that have helped attribute to my change of mood, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

Two nights ago, I actually couldn't sleep. Normally I could fall asleep standing up on a crowded train with a screaming child next to me. I can't remember the last time I couldn't sleep.

But my husband Sean had just returned from a trip to Buffalo to see my sister, her new husband, and all of my friends. Why couldn't I go? Because I had to work and had already taken off too much time last month because of all the weddings my family had (I swear, I'm not complaining...). My job doesn't offer vacation time, and if I had driven home with him, I couldn't have worked at the restaurant on Friday and Saturday night, so I would have missed out on making $250. That would have been a double whammy.

My sister and her husband were talking with Sean about having kids, and how they want to wait for a little while. But they're Catholic, and not allowed to use birth control, so I'm giving it about a year before I have a nephew or niece. We all know how well the rhythm method works.

On Saturday night, after I had worked a 9 hour shift, and Sean came home, he and I were cuddling and he asked if I was still sure that I didn't want to have kids. Sean and I have always agreed that we didn't want to have kids, or at least that it wasn't terribly likely. He said he just wanted to keep the idea on the horizon and though he didn't want to have kids now, he maybe wanted to in the future. After about 10 minutes, he and the dog were fast asleep and I was wide awake and feeling constricted both physically and mentally, so I went downstairs to listen to Counting Crows and explore the mysteries of Wikipedia until 5am. I hate and love Wikipedia. It can be so inaccurate, but the level of entertainment is astounding. I went from reading about rock lyrics to Greek Mythology to tentacle erotica(ick) in about 10 minutes.

I've had the 'I don't want babies - ever' conversation about ten thousand times, and 99% of the time it's the same reaction: 'Oh, you won't feel that way forever.' Actually, whenever I say something to the effect of 'I don't want kids,' my old co-worker would reply in a giddy tone, 'Yeah, my wife said that too.' He has a 3 year old kid who actually is cute.

But think about it for a minute, why would you ask if I want kids? Right now, I'm a very angry and bitter person. For the past 3 years I've had to work over 80 hours a week to make ends meet. I see a friend or two maybe once a month and talk to my family about that much. My co-workers don't bother asking me what I did over the weekend on Monday mornings anymore. I'm jealous that most people don't have to be anywhere after they clock out at 5pm. Most of my free time is spent working out, and then feeling angry that I don't have time to do anything else. When I am home, I have a husband who I need time with, I have chores to do, and a dog who is constantly whining for attention.

"Well, yeah not now obviously, but what about in a few years when you're not working as much?"
When you've been keeping up this routine for 3 years, does it seem possible to imagine life differently? I can't see past how I'm living right now. I have dreams that I only work 50 hours a week. I dream that I get up, go to work at 8, get out at 5, from Monday through Friday. Those are my dreams. When I relax and go to my 'happy place,' I don't think about being on a sandy beach with a mai thai in my hand, I think about going home after work. About having a whole day off without an agenda or a single thing I have to do. Asking me if in a few years I'd like to have a kid when I'm ::snort:: 'not as busy' is like asking you how you'd like living on the moon, when the technology becomes avaliable.

There's enough shitty parents out there who raise some pretty shitty children. At least I know enough that an overworked bitch probably shouldn't have a child just because she has a vagina.