i feel so much better, part two

Okay, here we are for part two of the summer of change; and why I feel so good. I have been training for a half-marathon! Running deserves a post all by itself because it has been a challenge.

Let’s hit a on a little background. I have always been an active person, however I have always struggled with my weight. When I was younger, my cousins and I spent our summers running around outside, going to the pool, playing games; unless it was oppressively hot outside or raining we were never inside.

When I got older in school, I played field hockey, basketball, and softball. When I was in grade school, I loved playing field hockey—and I was pretty good at it. However big fish, small pond. I was one of the better of the girl athletes in my class of 20. I played basketball, which although my mother said was my best sport, I’d rather watch basketball than play it. Softball, I pitched and played third base. I have a pretty good arm, still—and I thought that going into high school I would have loved to play.

High school. I dropped basketball and stuck with field hockey and softball. My freshman year playing field hockey, myself and two other freshmen were subs for the varsity team because our coach, thought that we would be able to handle it. I barely played a varsity game, but to be thought of as someone that could handle it was cool. We went undefeated my freshmen year, and almost won our league championship; but we lost in double overtime in penalty strokes.

Fast-forward to next year, we get a new coach. I barely play for the rest of my high school career, and my senior year I barely played the entire season. And, I remember why. My senior year, I got involved with our campus ministry program at school, and I was asked to lead a retreat in October (during field hockey season); now, looking back, our campus minister probably should have been more lenient with people and their sport schedules, but I wanted to go on that retreat.  My coach has a problem with that and basically told me that if I decided to go, I wouldn’t play. And, I think I made the right choice.

I wasn’t jaded about high school sports, I wasn’t annoyed that I didn’t play—I was looking at the long game. I was looking at what was going to help me later on in life, because I knew I was never going to go far as a field hockey player.

Well, one of the important things about field hockey was running—I hated it; I was slow, and I still am slow. But, there was no internal motivation. I didn’t really care for the girls that I was on the team with, there were attitude problems, and I was just over it.

So, I have always been active; I just have never been consistent with it. Working out has been something that I have done off and on since I was in high school. I went through a weird cycle. I joined LA Fitness when I was like 17; I went, I think once. Literally. I hated it, but I was also socializing and having fun with my friends. Then I went to college and between my freshmen and sophomore year, I think I gained 30-40 pounds.

But, I didn’t really think anything of it because I was happy—I joined a sorority, I had great friends, I was having fun. But, I wasn’t taking care of myself. Literally, if I wouldn’t have known then, what I know now, my college years would have been a little different. Now, I wasn’t like super crazy with partying; after my junior year it calmed down a little bit. Really, it was after I turned 21, and then it wasn’t fun anymore haha. But, I was smoking…a lot. Drinking…..alot. Eating crap, only walking to class. It just wasn’t good for me. Senior year it kind of kicked in that I needed to do something; my co-operating teacher was really fit, and she was kind of an inspiration to getting my ass into gear. However, this was the spring of my senior year.

So, I ate a little better, I went to the school gym after student teaching, still drinking a little, but not a lot (because my friends would go out on weeknights). And, you can tell in the pictures from my graduation that I had lost that little bit of weight that I gained during my first couple years of college.

Then I go home for good; I joined a gym, I tried to eat a little bit better, but I was still going out with my friends to places like Applebee’s and drinking almost every night of the week. It was a bad cycle. I was substitute teaching as different public schools, I barely had any money, my student loans were coming in, I didn’t have a full time job, and my summer job was just causing my so much stress and problems that I would literally have anxiety attacks.

And, I would hold all of these things in. The inadequacy I felt from not having a full time job, the unnecessary stress that I felt from my summer job, paying my bills, and not having control of little things in my life. I remember standing in my kitchen on night, talking to my mother, and completely breaking down. I blacked out, couldn’t breathe, and all I could do was cry, scream, and sob.

I felt like shit, I thought that I was shit. I was controlled by the opinions that other people had of me, I looked for validation and every turn. I didn’t believe that people wanted to be around me; I was depressed and holding on to a very frayed rope. This was probably the darkest time in my life because my faith suffered, my health suffered, and my mental health suffered.

I learned to shut certain things out. I shut people out because I thought that couldn’t possibly understand what I was going through—Now, I am very aware that when I was going through this tough time, I liked being the martyr. I wanted someone to feel bad for me, but I would shrug off their sympathy or empathy because how could they possibly understand what it means to be me. Now, I realize, no one will ever truly understand…and that’s totally okay. It’s okay because we all have to go through our shit. And, sometimes other people’s shit is like ours and we can be there for each other.

I don’t think there was ever an “Ah-Ha” or a “Come to Jesus Moment,” because I think from where I was in my life, I slowly has to climb out of my cave. Working at a Catholic school, brought me back to my foundation of my faith, which I think has miraculously helped me in how I handle things that are thrown at me. There have been some bumps since, but I think that I this foundation has helped my build myself up again.

The biggest and longest struggle that I have with myself is feeling wanted, feeling that I deserve happiness, and accepting myself for who I am—and not changing myself because someone doesn’t like it. Most of this has been because I liked being a martyr of sorts, I would make problems bigger than what they were because I wanted someone to be upset for me and with me. I didn’t want to feel alone. And, I was so busy trying to quantify what people thought of me, the love that people had for me, and making sure that they were never going to push me aside; I never enjoyed the love and I appreciated the people that I had in my life.

Which, I was something that I think that the loss of my father taught me about—that people in your life as semi-permanent as they can be. And, you must cherish and realize that the people in your life effect the way that you act and are—something that I never realized. When I was going through this dark time, I was with people that weren’t helping me out of it, their solution was to drink the issue away or have fun or talking about something else. It was getting around the issue, not dealing with it front of your face.

But, when my father died—I saw the people that were truly there for me. They dropped what they were doing to be there for me and my family, they brought us food, they spent time with us. This is what love is; this is what I realized I was missing out on; it was so wonderful and all encompassing, and I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

The icing on the cake was really being diagnosed last summer; I really like to think about it as a blessing in disguise. I could be mad at myself, and realized that the shit that I have held in is what manifested this disease—but I want to look at the positive. I beat myself up for so long; physically, emotionally, and mentally. My body is now beating itself daily, and I am not even doing anything!

So, enough was enough. Fibro has taught me what it means to take care of myself. It was a wakeup call that I needed; honestly. And, thank God it wasn’t something more serious. I realized that I can’t do the things that I used to do, BUT THAT’S OKAY! At first I was bummed that I would never feel the same again, but then I realized how much better that is for me! Drinking and smoking was hard to tailor back on, but keeping up with some fitness regimen wasn’t too bad. My doctor’s appointments, and a brief scare about my blood pressure scared me into quitting smoking—which, despite a few slips, I have been consistent with.

But, then I needed another challenge. After doing my second color run, I wanted so badly to do a half-marathon. So, in the middle of the summer, I started looking at half’s and finally I just signed up for one. Realizing that just thinking about it wasn’t getting my anywhere, I needed to be about it, too.

The things that I wrote about in the post all surfaced when I was running. Things that I needed to realize, things that I needed to learn, and the uncomfortable emotions that I never wanted to think about. There are runs I have done and I have pushed myself and started crying. But, there is something in common that happens after every time I run—I feel this amazing sense of accomplishment. I feel like I conquered something that has been sitting on my chest for years, or I am able to zone out and listen to rhythm of my footsteps.

Yesterday I was having an off day. I was up at 4:30 (not on purpose). I laid in bed until 6, finally decided get up and run and get yourself some coffee. I had to run 4 miles, lucky for me Dunkin’ is two miles up and two miles back. So, I ran. I tried to out run my tired, but it caught up to me. I went to mass, because of the Holy Day. I worked all day at my summer job, but it was cloudy and that came with a break. I was able to leave early, I went shopping (why?), came home, and I had to fix my bed.

So, I have discovered that I am a little handy—however, when it’s 10 pm and all you want to do is sleep from a 20 hour day…you don’t want to be handy. I was at my wits end with how to fix this draw. I literally tried putting the screw in the same place twice, I tried wood glue, and I was about to lose it. Finally, I decided to try something that I probably should have done in the beginning. I “drilled” my own hole and screwed in the screw, and almost cried when I was finished.

I put drilled in quotes because I couldn’t find the right bit to fill the drill (which, I think was my father looking down on me, honestly) and I just twisted the drill bit around until I made a hole deep enough for the screw. I was going to lose my patience, but I started talking to my dad to guide me through the process. And, I think that he helped me to the right direction. As soon as I got that screw in, I got up and walked around the house. Zero people in my house were awake, but I stood there excited from what I hoped I accomplished. The test was getting the drawer in, and once it worked…I was so tempted to scream. I was so excited.

But, I tried to keep the same mindset as when I run. There are times I want to quit, and say I have had enough—but I just walk, breathe, and push myself further. And, it worked. I realized that half of the game in mental, those are the things that have been holding me back. But, I just try to get around them. With running, I try to channel those thoughts into running, and shed that negativity with every mile I run; that way I can leave it all behind me.

 

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The Release Project: Pride

Much of my life has been spent in self-reflection. I have spent a lot of time thinking about the person that I want to become, a lot of time figuring out what I am meant to be, and what I want to stand for. Not bad things, right? Well, yes and no. There is nothing wrong with self-reflection and knowing how to read the room. There is nothing wrong with figuring out what you stand for and making sure that is in alignment with what is true in your heart.

The problem comes when you focus too much on defining yourself, that you forget yourself. That you think that you are better than the past life experiences that you have had and have subsequently shaped you. That you negate anything and everything the people closest to you, and really know you have said and want for you. When you become something you are not, because it’s going to please the general public, isn’t authentic and you have lost the point of self-reflection.

For much of my formative years, I was always trying to be like someone because, at that time in my life, I felt that being someone else would be better than being myself. In high school, I struggled with my relationship with my mother. I thought that I would have an easier time to be like my brother who, by his own nature, is much more cynical, practical, and critical. I subconsciously saw how easy it was for my mom and my brother to get along, that I thought if I did that, I would too.

I was so, so, so, so, (times infinity) wrong. I just came across as angry, critical, uncaring, cold, and even though I tried to be something that I wasn’t, I was still sensitive and emotional. So, I was quick tempered, snarky, and just really a bitch. I couldn’t see how I was acting, and didn’t seem to care about what people thought. But, I remember when my grandmother said something to me, “Uncle Kevin thinks you’re being too critical.” Whaaaaaa? Me, of all people? How could he say that? See, I even got mad when someone pointed out a part of myself, that wasn’t myself, and something I knew I needed to change. If that isn’t prideful…

My second really significant phase came when I was senior in high school. I read Virginia Woolf once, and suddenly I was this tragic, romantic figure. Granted, I love Woolf’s writing, but the woman had some demons that she was working on. I felt like I craved for that kind of tragedy in my life, I wanted a place of deep hurt that would give me a reason to act a certain way. Seriously, what the eff was wrong with me? No wonder why my brother always thought I was crazy. I am sure at times it was like living with Eve from Three Faces of Eve.

But, I was yearning for a sense of belonging, because I felt like I was on the outskirts of life. A kid recently just said to me at school, “Ma’am, you must have been really popular, one of the cool kids in high school. You just seem like you would be cool.” I laughed in the kid’s face. I did not divulge to that child that most of my freshmen year was spent watching old movies in my room and crying because I didn’t have any friends. Hey, the kid things I’m cool, I didn’t want to mess up my image. But, if someone has said that to me in high school, I would have ran with it. I would have had this false optimism in my life that people liked me, or at least felt sorry for me.

Because of this sense of belonging, I mad friends that I shouldn’t have. Now, deep down, I am sure that they are both leading really fulfilling lives and making the best of what they have. But, at the time, we were three lost souls that happened to find each other. Our relationship wasn’t meant to last through high school. We got into trouble, we made mistakes, and I did things that are not part of the person that I am now. All three of us were looking to belong, but the other two were looking to belong to something bigger than what we had.

 

Senior year, I also met my friend and mentor, Judy. She was my principal at the time, and is responsible for endlessly trying to get my train back on the tracks. So, of course when she started noticing changes, she said something. She mentored me, she gave me examples of the person to be, how to be with people, and how to care for people. She has been telling me for years that I don’t have to define myself by other people’s standards. Sometimes I listened, and sometimes I decided to go my own path. But, I never really grasped her message—I have to admit that this still happens from time to time.

 

In college, I joined a sorority—but never really felt like a typical sorority girl, so that didn’t stick. But, I drank and I partied—nothing ever to hurt my future; but I did put myself into dangerous situations. Looking back, I probably drank because I was still feeling lost and going to parties gave me something that I felt like I needed at the time. I put myself into situations that I thought would make me feel better, but they never did. They just usually made me feel worse, and this was a pattern that continued.

 

I grew angry and rejected everything that I knew growing up. I rejected family, because I thought that I knew better about myself than they did. I thought that I didn’t fit in with them, that I didn’t belong to them, and it has been a repeated struggle for me. I rejected my faith because I thought that God wasn’t giving me the answers that I wanted. God just kept giving me struggles, he kept giving me things that I didn’t want to handle. At the time, I thought I had put so much faith in him, but He never gave anything back to me. Never in a million years did I ever think the answer to my questions and problems was to humble myself to His Will, instead of trying to fight against it.

 

This periodic up and downs in my life have been sporadic, and each time I seem to go through the same problem. I am trying to live up to expectations that don’t exist. I am trying to live up to expectations that I created for myself, because it was a time when I was not being true to myself. The plan that God has for me was not the one that I was following, and it has been hard to navigate the paths of life because of rollercoaster I was riding one was slowly trying to through me off.

 

When my father died, and being diagnosed, I had to stop and think about what was right for me. I had to think about what was a priority in my life, what were some things that needed to be taken out of my life. I had to rethink life with fibro, and adjust. I had to focus on myself and what was going to add to my life. Well, then I started thinking—who am I? I had tried to define myself in all these ways, but I never actually figured out who I really was.

 

I started an odd healing process during my time spent in graduate school—I was doing something that I loved. I was learning, I was exploring, I was asking questions, and I was learning about things and topics that were of interest to me. So, now I was doing something that I loved, I started to focus on love. My faith was strong already, but it got better. I felt like I was having an authentic relationship with God because I was listening to Him, not simply asking him of things. I was trying to put difficult situations into His perspective; trying to figure out what God was trying to tell me.

 

My relationships with people got better because I was focusing on being me, and not what they wanted me to be. Life with fibro has meant, expressing myself truly and honestly—and if people can’t accept that, then I can’t make them like me. I learned that listening to people, is better than just talking and talking and talking. The most important thing that I learned was not letting someone else or something else to define you—regardless of what others tell you are made in the image and likeness of God. So, be forgiving of others, especially of yourself.

The Release Project: Introduction

Lent. Call me a traditionalist, but I love Lent. I love what this time brings, I love the symbolism of the season, and I love that this is a time that people can stop and contemplate their relationship with God. Now, for Catholics, typically Lent is a time that we think about things to give up. In grade school, things to give up were chocolates, soda, candy, or a bad habit that we wanted to break. When I got to college, lapsing in my Catholic tradition, I decided that one year I was going to give up coffee. Such. A. Bad. Idea. Seriously, my addiction to coffee was so high in college—constantly pumping my system because writing papers and going to sorority functions were my life and I needed to keep going.

(The more that I digest this fibro thing, the more I realize that my college lifestyle definitely did not help my condition.)

Even when I walked away from the faith for a bit, I still loved Lent. I would think about giving things up, but would never really do it. I was angry with God at the time, and I decided that I didn’t want to give something up for Him. Once the fire was reignited, it was like that I had a new understanding of Lent. It wasn’t so much about giving up something, and denying yourself of something that you love; it is about symbolizing the sacrifice that Jesus made and giving yourself back to Him.

For the past few years, instead of giving something up I would do something extra. Two years ago, I tried to get to mass everyday—or a couple days out of the week to get myself in the right frame of mind for school. Last night I was thinking about what I was going to do for Lent this year. Getting up for mass every day before work would be hard for me now, so that’s out. Maybe I could get to Mass on Saturday mornings and a Friday morning here and there. I was also thinking about adding in more Eucharistic adoration back into my life. I used to go all the time, but grad school and life seemed to take over and I couldn’t make the time.

I thought that something was missing. I was talking to my friend about what else I could do, and things that I would give up for Lent. Judy is my mentor. Next to my mother, she is one of the most influential people in my life. Our friendship started out as one of student and teacher. When I decided that I wanted to become a teacher in my senior year of high school, she was the person that I looked to for advice. From there she and I developed this wonderful trusting relationships where we can talk about everything. She was the one that also helped me back into my faith after a particularly rough time in my life.

When my grandmother died, I was angry with God…angry with everyone. She was the one person, at that time in my life, was there for me when I felt no one else was and it hurt to lose her. So, during this time, I wasn’t going to mass or praying, and honestly thought religion was stupid. Judy never gave up on me. She was patient and kind, and talked me through so many rough patches. Although at times it was really hard, we came out on the other side of things, and I would like to thank her for the inspiration for this project.

The Release Project is what I am going to be doing during Lent to focus on developing my relationship with God and with myself. Yes, at first, it might sound selfish. But, it’s totally not. If we focus on the positives things in our lives, and the positive qualities that we have, then it makes it easy to see God and Jesus in those around us.

Judy sent me an article from Daily World, part of USA Today titled, “19 things to give up for Lent that aren’t chocolate.” This list is awesome, and was exactly what I was looking for. The 19 things are:

  1. Fear: God is on my side. In Him I am more than a conqueror. (See Romans 98)
  2. The need to please everyone: I can’t please everyone anyway. There is only one I need to strive to please.
  3. Envy: I am blessed. My value is not found in my possessions, but in my relationship with my Heavenly Father.
  4. Impatience: God’s timing is the perfect timing.
  5. Sense of entitlement: The world does not owe me anything. God does not owe me anything. I live in humility and grace.
  6. Bitterness and Resentment: The only person I am hurting by holding onto these is myself.
  7. Blame: I am not going to pass the buck. I will take responsibility for my actions.
  8. Gossip and Negativity: I will put the best construction on everything when it comes to other people. I will also minimize my contact with people who are negative and toxic and bring other people down.
  9. Comparison: I have my own unique contribution to make and there is no one else like me.
  10. Fear of failure: You don’t succeed without experiencing failure. Just make sure you fall forward.
  11. A spirit of poverty: Believe with God that there is always more than enough and never a lack.
  12. Feelings of unworthiness: You are fearfully and wonderfully made by your creator. (see Psalm 139)
  13. Doubt: Believe God has a plan for you that is beyond anything you could imagine. The future is brighter than you could ever realize.
  14. Self-pity: God comforts us in our sorrow so that we can comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.
  15. Retirement: As long as you are still breathing, you are here for a reason. You have a purpose to influence others for Christ. That does not come to an end until the day we die.
  16. Excuses: A wise man once said, if you need an excuse, any excuse will do.
  17. Lack of counsel: Wise decisions are rarely made in a vacuum.
  18. Pride: Blessed are the humble.
  19. Worry: God is in control and worrying will not help.

What is great is that there are Bible verse to go along with some of the things that we should give up. So, after reading this list I started thinking that I am going to take one things every single day and meditate on it. 40 days in Lent, I could work through this list twice. On Easter Sunday, my hope is that I will walk into mass and release all of thing that do not serve me. Hence, the release project. I want to be able to work on the negative parts in my life that I want to change, and bring out good qualities that I want to show people.

So, here how The Release Project is going to work

  • Word and mantra for the day—I might go in any way what might inspire me, or I might go down the list.
  • I might right this down in the morning, jot my thoughts about the topic,
  • Read a Bible verse that discuss the work or mantra
  • When I get a quiet moment in my day, pray about this. Ask God to free me from this problem
  • Now, this hardest part. Sit and let God talk to me. When I pray, it’s total stream of consciousness. I make lists, talk about problems, but I want this time to be about God talking to me and I need to be receptive to listening to Him.
  • Then I write about a blog post about my experience for the day and if this would be something that I should revisit during my 40 days.

I don’t want to limit myself. If I feel like I need to spend two days on fear of failure, then I am going to spend two days on fear of failure. If there is one word or mantra that you just want to solely work on, do that! This is something for you! This is taking care of yourself!

Part of the process with fibro is taking care of myself mentally and physically, and I have been trying to get a handle of the physical part, but I want to be able to work on the mental part—with the help of God.