The mirror...

I still struggle a lot with how I see myself.

Some days, I look in the mirror and see who I was.

Some days, I look in the mirror and see who I am.

And some days, I look in the mirror and see who I want to be.

I think a lot of people struggle with this...  I am certain I am not alone.

I believe, a person really needs to be able to see all 3 to keep themselves moving in the right direction.

When I see the person I was, sometimes it motivates me and sometimes it makes me feel ashamed.  Even though I am no longer that person - I still remember the hopelessness I felt, and that constant instinct to hide.  I always felt as if I was doomed to live that life forever, trapped in a body that wasn't my own...  I see pictures from that time, and I often wonder how I lived like that?  How and why did I let it happen?  But this motivates me to push harder to achieve my goals, and concentrate on eating what makes me feel healthy and good.

When I see the person I am, I struggle a lot with seeing how far I have come and how far I have left to go.  It's not often I see both at the same time.  I am getting closer and closer every day to an undefined goal, and I am really proud of myself for that! 

When I see the person I want to be, I know that I am not there yet.  But I know I can do it...  I realize that I am strong enough to continue on.  I know this journey has given me so much more than size loss and will continue to do so.

There comes a time, though - when it's not will power or motivation that keeps me going...  It's the fact that I have changed my life so drastically, and the changes I have made are now effortless...   It's not even a matter of this lifestyle being a struggle - it's not.  I really enjoy this, and I enjoy who I've become, the body I have taken back, and the health I've gained.  There is no going back, I can never imagine myself as that person again.

D~

Slowly getting better...

My cough is still hanging in there, but otherwise I am feeling great and more like my normal self.

I plan to go back to my normal work out routine tomorrow.

However, these last 2 weeks of being sick, I've noticed that I am not working out as hard, and I am really seeing some changes.  I have not changed my eating since being sick...  So this makes me wonder if I am working myself too hard?

So, I am going to try a week of M/W/F Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred, with Tu/Th being my heavy lifting days.  Then the following week, I am going to do M/W/F Walk Away the Pounds and Tu/Th as heavy lifting.  I think I will alternate like this for a little while and see how it goes. 

I found a nice progress picture the other day, and my friend Mo was kind enough to let me use it as a "before" picture...  The October 2014 photo I took this morning...  It's fun to see the progress, and the ways I have changed.  To be honest - I see the most change in my face/neck and my arms.  I also see a huge difference in my complexion.  What do you think?

I love seeing my hard work pay off...  but even more - I just don't even think of it as "hard work"...  It's work, yes, but I really don't think I workout that much - I really think of myself as more lazy than anything.  I still see a lot of changes to be made - but again, I love the progress.

I hope you all have a wonderful Sunday - it's beautiful here!

D~

Still sick...

When I said I was sick last week...  I thought, ho-hum, just another cold.  Yet here I am a week later and still sick.

Friday and Saturday were, by far, my worst days...  I fought a fever like crazy both days, and it really took a lot out of me.  It wasn't until my highest fever broke on Friday night, I realized I should have been scared.  I had been passed out for hours... and no memory of that block of time.  I was home alone, and I probably shouldn't have been.

Since then, I have been progressively getting better.  On Monday, Josh insisted I go to the Dr. - who determined I just had a virus...  Sent me home with orders to continue Mucinex and come back in 10 days if I am not better.

The Mucinex is helping, for sure.  But I am still sick.

At least I have most of my voice back.  For a while there, my family thought it was quite funny to make fun of the sick person.  I did not find the humor in that.  At all.

I did go back to working out on Monday...  Real easy like.  I did my Walk Away the Pounds video with out weights, and I was careful not to over do it.

I also did my heavy lifting on Tuesday...  I just took it really slow and easy.

Again, I did my WATP yesterday...  A pushed a little harder than I did on Monday and I did add my weights back in.

I did my heavy lifting again today...  I can still really feel my chest congestion - which is hard when I am working hard.  I breathe so deep and heavy, it's very hard to catch my breath when I am lifting - so I just have to go super slow and I don't do all of my reps in big sets, I break them up a little bit.

Tomorrow, I will do WATP again, and hopefully I will be feeling much better after the weekend off - where, God willing, I can resume my 30 Day Shred on Monday.

I do feel like I am finally making some size progress - it isn't much, but I can see a small change - so I am hoping for some nice results when I weigh and measure at the end of the month.  Maybe being sick hasn't set me back as much as I feared.

I try to take a week off of weight lifting every 6 weeks or so...  So this break was a bit earlier than I would have liked, but in the end, it's about doing what's right for your body at the time.  You can't always schedule sickness or emergencies - so you really have to roll with life and continue to press on.  It's getting back on that horse every time, and just really making it a goal to keep moving, no matter what it is or how small it is.

D~

Sick...

Sigh...

It wasn't in my plans to get sick...  but here I am, sick.

Which means, I did my Walk Away the Pounds 1 mile DVD on Wednesday...  I did nothing yesterday. 

My body says it doesn't want to do anything today either, but my brain says it should.  Even if it's only a few deadlifts.

I know I am running a fever, and it keeps breaking...  Hot then cold, hot then cold...

Sigh.

I guess I will just play it by ear, and see how I feel later...

I tell myself that I must press on, but then I tell myself that I must rest and get better. 

D~

It's my life...

This is a very hard post for me to publish.

As an adult, I struggle a lot with how people see me.  Not necessarily in a physical sense, but how they see me as a person.  This probably doesn't relate to my Primal journey at all...  but it does relate to me, in a big way.

My childhood is something I rarely talk about, yet it haunts me every day of my life...  It follows in my shadow, and as much as I'd like to forget it, I know I never will.

I was never abused.  I was never mistreated.  And I was loved by every single person in my life - no matter who they were or what their purpose was for being there for me.

You see...  As long as I can remember, and as far back as I can remember - I was raised knowing my mom was going to die.  It was a fact.  No one knew when it was going to happen, but it was going to happen.  She was very sick.  I don't remember a time in my life where I felt safe in the fact that the people I loved would always be there for me, because I knew they would leave, and I knew my mom was going to die.

As a little girl - when my mom was still well enough - I used to sleep with my parents...  Right in the middle...  I remember having nightmares that my mom had died right next to me, I would wake in the middle of the night and try to wake her up, and she always woke...  My nightmare was that one day she wouldn't wake.  I couldn't have been more than 4 or 5.

Growing up, going to Catholic school, we went to church every single morning...  At the family church.  Every morning - I would sit in that church and imagine her casket at the front.  And I would cry.  Every day.  God understands why I hate going to church.  I don't fear Him, or my faith...  I fear the memories.

The older I grew, the sicker my Mom became.  It wasn't long before she was no longer able to care for me, and my Dad had to care for her.

So, my bags were packed, and off I went to live with relatives.  Wonderful relatives.  People that loved me and made me a part of their family. 

But I wasn't an easy kid... More than anything - I just wanted MY family.  I wanted my parents, I wanted my brother.  I didn't understand why that would never be.

I moved back and forth a lot...  One family to the next, back home and eventually a couple of foster-homes and group homes.  All of these people loved me - I may not have seen it then - but I know it without a doubt now.  So many people took care of me, guided me, and did their best to make sure I was well taken care of.

When I was 16, my mom finally died.  And it spiraled my life out of control.  My entire life was me being prepared for her death, but when it finally happened - I was not prepared at all.  I had spent my life running from her, and being afraid to know her - because I knew she was going to die.  So many words left unsaid.  In my head, I thought her death would hurt less if I didn't know her.  How wrong I was.  It's been almost 23 years since her death - and I still grasp at any memory I can get of her, and any stories anyone can tell me of the woman I loved more than anything - yet I was too afraid to know.

Most children grow up wanting to be a Doctor or a Lawyer...  Not me.  My one and only dream was to be loved by someone and have a family.  That's it.  I didn't care about money (I still don't), I didn't care about all the worldly possessions I could attain...  None of that was important - not at all.

Being in so many schools still affects me as an adult...  15 schools in 12 years.  Not so much my intelligence, but in social situations...  I hate walking into big crowds of people, where I am the stranger among them.  I will avoid those situations whenever possible.  Another reason I hate going to church.

Awesome life story - huh?

Really - I am leaving out so much.  To blog about it all would bore you to death.

But then I met my husband...  And all the pieces of my life alligned!  He is an amazing person, and I fell head over heels in love with him, almost the moment we met.  And he loved me back - even with all of the demons that followed in my shadow.

He proposed 4 months after we met...  We both knew - we just knew.  Falling in love was almost instantanious.  He is absolutely the best part of my life, even now - after 17 years of marriage...  He is my best friend.  He keeps me grounded and reminds me every day that he loves me.  Don't get me wrong, we have our ups and downs like every marriage - but that doesn't make me love him any less.  I am so very lucky!

Then we were married and had our oldest daughter shortly after.  A year later, we had our youngest daughter.

I'll be the first to admit...  These girls came into my life like a whirlwind.  In a matter of 18 months, I was married and had 2 babies...  Crazy!  Honestly - if it wasn't for pictures, I wouldn't remember a thing about their first 2 years.

But let me tell you something about these girls.  They are amazing!

Remember - All I ever wanted was a family.  All I ever wanted was to love and be loved.  Education didn't matter to me, money didn't matter, worldly possessions didn't matter...  Just family - plain and simple.

I am certainly living my dream - no doubt about it.

My entire life revolves around this family...  My husband, my daughters...  Even our dog.

In 2004 - Thanksgiving Day, to be exact...  Josh left for a 12 month deployment to Iraq.  It was the worst year of my life!  I cried every single day...  There I was, alone - raising 2 girls on my own - I had no clue what I was doing, or what I would do with out him if he never came back.  My life became a fog, and the only thing that propelled me forward was the girls.  But the girls and I learned something that year...  My oldest was only six, and my youngest was only five...  But we learned to be independent, we learned that we could survive on our own, and we learned that we were solid together.  That year, brought us so close, and even to this day - my girls are very independent people - who know that they can survive the hardest of times, as long as we have eachother.

Josh made it home safely - exactly one year later - Thanksgiving Day 2005.  It's hard to believe, from one Thanksgiving to the next, I could go from being so distraught, to having my world tilted right again.  The amount of relief that poured out of me the day he landed safely back home is not something I could ever express in words, and I am still grateful every single day for his safe return to us.  I promised God, while he was gone, I would continue to love him every single day for the rest of my life, if he just brought him home to me alive.  I do, and I will.

I've worked so hard to overcome my past, and make my family a "normal" family.  Whatever "normal" is, I have no idea - because my childhood was anything but normal, remember?

I don't expect much from my girls...  I expect them to try their best in every situation.  I expect them to know - with out a doubt - that they are loved every single day.  I have taught them that trust and respect are earned and never just given.  I have taught them that a life filled with laugher and meaning is a wonderful life.  I have taught them that it's OK to laugh AND cry, their feelings and their emotions are their own - and they have to right to them, no matter what they are.  I have taught them that I will never judge them for their feelings, and I will do my very best to understand them in all situations.   Most of all, I always tell them...  "I have no idea what I am doing.  I am not a perfect parent.  I am not always right."  And above and beyond anything else - if I feel I am wrong in any situation, I always apologize.  Because, let me tell you...  There have been many times in my life that my girls have taught me a thing or two about parenting, and I was truly wrong.

But do you know what?  These girls - I am so very lucky to have them!  They are my world, it spins and revolves around them.  They are teens...  They are moving on with their own lives.  As a mom - this is so hard for me to be on that line of "these are MY children" as ownership...  And "these are my children living their own lives" as their own people.  And letting them do that, and letting them make their own mistakes.  It is my instinct to shelter them, and to protect them - it's so hard to stand back and let them learn on their own.  But I must, and I do.

Often times, I am taken back to my own childhood...  And I have to ask myself...  When I was feeling a similar feeling - what did I need at that time?  I relive my memories a lot, and I believe it helps me be a better parent.  There are times when all my girls need is a good cry - and someone to hold them while doing it...  They don't need me to sit there and tell them what to do, they don't need me to judge them, and they don't need me to walk away...  They just need to know that I am there.  And that I love them.

It's pretty easy - ya know.  I feel like I was really fortunate...  Despite how I grew up, and the many homes I lived in.  I still think I was lucky.  Because I had all these homes, I had all of these parents - and I feel like, as a parent myself, I can now pull from my many families and my many situations to come up with the best possible solution I can give my girls.  How many people can do that?  I never thought I would look back on my childhood and consider myself "lucky".

Despite all of the above, I still struggle with my childhood and how people see me.  I like to think I am well respected among my family and my peers.  But I know for a fact, there are people in my life now that look down on me for the way I was raised.  People I once respected and loved.  I cry about it often, and I wonder what I ever did to them to make them not see me for the person I am, rather than the person I was.  But then I realize - it is not my fault.  I cannot change the way I was raised, and if they are going to judge me for something that was beyond my control, well then they don't deserve my respect or my love.  But it still bothers me, and it still makes me wish I was good enough for them, because I know - no matter what I do - I never will be.

Last year, my oldest daughter had to do a project at school...  She had to interview the person in her life that she respected most, and she chose me.  What an honor!  The interview was tough - I had to tell her things about my life that I hoped I could keep locked inside forever, things I never wanted my girls to know.  We both cried - we cried a lot.  I was so afraid that she would also see me for the person I was, and not the person I am...  But I should have known better.  Instead, she told me, she respected me and loved me more.  She tells me always that I am a great mother and she looks up to me...  That, to me, is the greatest honor of all...  To have my girls look at me, and know me, know what I've overcome - and to love me and respect me for the person I am and the person I've become, because I've allowed them to be the amazing people they are.  Some parents will never experience that.  I didn't do anything special...  I've never given them everything they've ever wanted, I've never spoiled them, and I've never tried to buy their love.  I've just been here, every day.

Being a parent, and coming from a background that was difficult - at best, has taught me so many things.  In my life, I only ever wanted to love and be loved.  There is no greater feeling!  I wish the same for my girls.  Watching them grow, and seeing them become these amazing individuals makes me so proud of them. 

I couldn't have wished for a better family or a better outcome to my life.  Again, I am so very lucky!

D~

One day, I will figure out my body...

Well, I am one week in to re-vamping my lifestyle once again. 

Some day, I will figure out my body.

I am feeling good though.

I've successfully journaled all of my food intake on MFP this last week.  I am not sure that I am eating much differently - in fact, I know I am not.  I am not eating any more or less than I was before.  The only real difference is that I've cut out a good portion of my potato intake, and gone back to more veggies.  I do feel like it's making a little bit of a difference.

I've also completed 1 full week of Stage 1 New Rules of Lifting for Women.  This feels really good.  I've kind of sluffed off of my lifting routine as time went on...  And even though I was continuing to lift - I really wasn't making much progress.  So, I really hope it helps to be back on a legitimate routine again.

It's hard to believe that I am coming up on 1 year of weight lifting.  That really boggles my mind.  I am really surprised at the changes my body has made in that time.  I still feel like I have a long way to go - but the progress and confidence I feel is so gratifying.

I continue to do my 30 Day Shred 3x/week also.  I love that this work out is so short - I can work really hard and be done with it very quickly.  As I have said before - this is a key thing for me.

As usual - I just keep pressing on.  There is no going backwards, only forward.  After all, time will pass anyways - might as well make the most of it, right.

D~