Some of you may have been told the tale.....some of you may not yet have had the privilege...
How a young Jaclyn Dixon- then, Jaclyn Baker- told her Pediatrician, Dr. Litwack as he began to prescribe her medicines to heal her young pain, "but I love to be sick...". "Excuse me?" Dr Litwack looked confused, surely no young child- or any normal person for that matter- loved to be sick. But young Jaclyn carried on...her mother, covering her face in horror, "I love to be sick...my Mom stays home with me and makes me tea and toast, and I have a cat and we watch movies. I love it.". A bewildered and slightly horrified Dr. Litwack turned toward the Mother. "She loves it", the Mother shrugged. And that was that.
Now, things are a little different. I no longer love to be sick. And certainly not on a Friday night. Here I am, coughing, sweating, headachey and all that jazz. And it's Friday night. And there aren't even any good movies on. I'm just sick at home with my poor Hubby who lovingly takes care of me and a cat who doesn't understand that Mommy is sick. Not. Fun. I do not love it.
Fin.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
If I Had a Million Dollars..
Hello Darlings...
Thank you all for your emails, texts, and especially comments in a public forum about my blog :) Your encouragement means the world and I am so glad you're following the goings on of lil' ol me and I hope you will continue to do so. :)
And now....I dare to dream.
Recently Mark and I visited my astrologer and she had good things and better things to say. She also told us she saw "a pregnancy" around Mark and looked me in the eye and said "and if you don't wanna get pregnant, missy, you better watch out!". Needless to say I have recently encouraged Mr Dixon to hold tight to his side of the bed and I'll keep to mine. Just kidding.....sort of.
Chirruns will just not go with my new dining room :)
She also encouraged us saying that we would soon know some financial success so we've decided to play the lottery. With playing the lottery comes the dreaming and reminiscing of what you would do if you won. It makes it that much more painful when you lose but in the moment it is fun and makes you feel drunk with hope that perhaps this is your time.
I thought I'd share some of the things I would do if I had millions of dollars....
Ahh...dreaming is so sweet.
Night ya'll!
xoxo
JKD
Thank you all for your emails, texts, and especially comments in a public forum about my blog :) Your encouragement means the world and I am so glad you're following the goings on of lil' ol me and I hope you will continue to do so. :)
And now....I dare to dream.
Recently Mark and I visited my astrologer and she had good things and better things to say. She also told us she saw "a pregnancy" around Mark and looked me in the eye and said "and if you don't wanna get pregnant, missy, you better watch out!". Needless to say I have recently encouraged Mr Dixon to hold tight to his side of the bed and I'll keep to mine. Just kidding.....sort of.
Chirruns will just not go with my new dining room :)
She also encouraged us saying that we would soon know some financial success so we've decided to play the lottery. With playing the lottery comes the dreaming and reminiscing of what you would do if you won. It makes it that much more painful when you lose but in the moment it is fun and makes you feel drunk with hope that perhaps this is your time.
I thought I'd share some of the things I would do if I had millions of dollars....
- I would pay off my student loans. Not only pay them off but send Sallie Mae a hand written note telling her exactly where she could shove my money.
- I would buy a white Porsche Cayenne with vanity plates reading "MRSDIX"
- I would pay of our mortgage
- I would buy cars for Savannah, My Mom, My family, Mark's Family....and whenever I told someone they were getting a car I would scream at them in my best OPRAH, "YOU GET A CAR!"
- I would renovate the Ritz Theatre and write them a big fat check and on the Memo line I would write " and I get leads in EVERYTHING"....just kidding. Well, not really. :)
- I would buy a WaWa and a Starbucks
- Mark and I would leave and go off to Paris, Rome, Venice, Prague and anywhere else we damn well please and eat cheese til our faces fell off.
- While there I would go to at least 3 of George Michael's concerts and sit front row in some sort of fabulous outfit for each...and if there was some sort of all-access backstage pass package for snobs, I would buy it
- I would renovate my Mom's Kitchen like she always wanted. And put aside money to put her in a home when the time came.
- I would go to Bliss Spa in NYC once a week. HEAVEN.
- I would buy my dream home....a house so big both our families could live with us. Each in their own private, happy space but we would all be together for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and to sing songs and talk before bed.
- I would give my Sister anything and everything she wanted because with or without millions she has always done that for me.
- I would donate to charities for kiddens, homeless, and gays.
- I'd get real headshots taken.
- I'd wipe my butt with a $50...just for kicks
- I would buy Manolos....and I would take out the trash in them
- I would hire Marin Mazzie to sing at my birthday.
- I would stop worrying.
Ahh...dreaming is so sweet.
Night ya'll!
xoxo
JKD
Friday, August 5, 2011
My Blanket and Me
In college I found a pink chenille bedspread on sale at Urban Outfitters. At $40bux it was so serendipitous because I desperately wanted my side of my dorm to be all pink. Mostly because I loved pink but also because my roommate- who slurped her food like an animal- hated it. Buying that bedspread was a win/win situation and I treasured it for years to come. It was warm in the winter, cool in the summer, comforting and fluffy and oh so pretty.
Then I got married.
I got married and my beautiful bedspread was folded and put away-(by me, not by Mark)- only to be brought out in the winter when it was extraordinarily cold in our living room and we were cuddled up watching a movie. You see, a pink bedspread doesn't sing of matrimony, adulthood, and all things grown up. But it does testify to a long-gone glory days...staying out til 6am and waking up naked with a grilled cheese under your pillow (true story). And when you're a big girl you realize you have to choose between the two. So yes, I put away my pink blanket and registered for a sensible but lovely Calvin Klein Duvet- rationalizing that it was still chic because Carrie Bradshaw had the same one on Sex and the City. But now and then I miss my pink bedroom, my stack of Harper's Bazaars, and a box filled with all the magazines Adrien Brody had been on the cover of. A framed photo of the cast of Valley of the Dolls, more journals than Oprah ever had, condoms and candles and crap. I miss the frivolity and not needing to let anyone know when you'll be home because maybe you won't be. I miss being young and dumb and too pretty to know the difference between Private and Federal Loans. I miss me.
Now everyone cool your pits....The Dixons aren't having a spat, there's no trouble in paradise. All is well. But marriage is...well it's a big change. My Dad once told me marriage was just a piece of paper. And in many ways, I suppose it is. But marriage is legal, its binding, it's a big f'ing deal and it scares me with it's intensity like Clint Eastwood. You have a fight- you better figure your shit out. Because you can't just pack your shit and go. No way, Jose! And who are you supposed to be? I struggle with this little diddy FO SHO! Am I me? Am I my Husband's Wife? If that's what I am do I have to like football, get acrylic nails and pack lunches? Am I me but now married? Is it ok for him to be the breadwinner always? What do I contribute? How do I bring Jaclyn Kay Baker into Jaclyn Kay Dixon? Are these two gals the same with just a change of name and address?
I mean....do you understand why I don't sleep much?
Recently I told my Health Coach, Diva Debbie, the saga of the pink blanket and apologized for having these thoughts like I revealed to her that I'd slept with the Gardner. Like we would ever have a Gardner. She looked at me like I was dumb. Not for having these thoughts but for feeling guilty for having these thoughts. She encouraged me to seek "me time". To indulge in the things I love (pizza and big macs excluded) and be kind to myself. I thought "me time" was for Housewives and Mommys. And I don't say that to be a bitch I just feel guilty for being 25 (26 is POUNDING at the door) childless, with no career and still feeling a need for "me time"- but I do need it. I need to not forget that fun, dumb girl - my Husband LOVES her and wishes she'd stick around awhile- and incorporate her into this serious, emotional woman now and then. It's time to say 'no' to things that suck- people, attitudes, food, what HAVE you and say yes to seclusion, to "girls nights", to re-decorating my living room if it makes me happy. WHY NOT!?
Ya know....I seem to be comfortable telling everyone else that it's "OK" to not know who you are, and what you want to be yet. I think I'm going to start telling myself.
xoxJKD
Then I got married.
I got married and my beautiful bedspread was folded and put away-(by me, not by Mark)- only to be brought out in the winter when it was extraordinarily cold in our living room and we were cuddled up watching a movie. You see, a pink bedspread doesn't sing of matrimony, adulthood, and all things grown up. But it does testify to a long-gone glory days...staying out til 6am and waking up naked with a grilled cheese under your pillow (true story). And when you're a big girl you realize you have to choose between the two. So yes, I put away my pink blanket and registered for a sensible but lovely Calvin Klein Duvet- rationalizing that it was still chic because Carrie Bradshaw had the same one on Sex and the City. But now and then I miss my pink bedroom, my stack of Harper's Bazaars, and a box filled with all the magazines Adrien Brody had been on the cover of. A framed photo of the cast of Valley of the Dolls, more journals than Oprah ever had, condoms and candles and crap. I miss the frivolity and not needing to let anyone know when you'll be home because maybe you won't be. I miss being young and dumb and too pretty to know the difference between Private and Federal Loans. I miss me.
Now everyone cool your pits....The Dixons aren't having a spat, there's no trouble in paradise. All is well. But marriage is...well it's a big change. My Dad once told me marriage was just a piece of paper. And in many ways, I suppose it is. But marriage is legal, its binding, it's a big f'ing deal and it scares me with it's intensity like Clint Eastwood. You have a fight- you better figure your shit out. Because you can't just pack your shit and go. No way, Jose! And who are you supposed to be? I struggle with this little diddy FO SHO! Am I me? Am I my Husband's Wife? If that's what I am do I have to like football, get acrylic nails and pack lunches? Am I me but now married? Is it ok for him to be the breadwinner always? What do I contribute? How do I bring Jaclyn Kay Baker into Jaclyn Kay Dixon? Are these two gals the same with just a change of name and address?
I mean....do you understand why I don't sleep much?
Recently I told my Health Coach, Diva Debbie, the saga of the pink blanket and apologized for having these thoughts like I revealed to her that I'd slept with the Gardner. Like we would ever have a Gardner. She looked at me like I was dumb. Not for having these thoughts but for feeling guilty for having these thoughts. She encouraged me to seek "me time". To indulge in the things I love (pizza and big macs excluded) and be kind to myself. I thought "me time" was for Housewives and Mommys. And I don't say that to be a bitch I just feel guilty for being 25 (26 is POUNDING at the door) childless, with no career and still feeling a need for "me time"- but I do need it. I need to not forget that fun, dumb girl - my Husband LOVES her and wishes she'd stick around awhile- and incorporate her into this serious, emotional woman now and then. It's time to say 'no' to things that suck- people, attitudes, food, what HAVE you and say yes to seclusion, to "girls nights", to re-decorating my living room if it makes me happy. WHY NOT!?
Ya know....I seem to be comfortable telling everyone else that it's "OK" to not know who you are, and what you want to be yet. I think I'm going to start telling myself.
xoxJKD
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The Christmas Tree Shoppe. OR.... Things I Don't Really Need But Will DIE Without
I am concerned, however,when I start to notice all of the piles of stuff in every nook and cranny of my home.
There is a part of me that worries that my Mother and I are going to end up in the Medford Lakes house like Big Edie and Little Edie Beale one day....she with her silver glitter Jesus piggy bank and I with my little, pink vase. Lots of cats. And enough expired WaWa French Vanilla ceamer in the fridge to choke a horse. My sister will show up offer each of us a kind word and a quick sponge bath and then leave until she gets another phone call from a concerned neighbor. But I think my "problem" is nothing compared to my Mom. Now, my Mom buys some really ridiculous crap. The groundhog from CaddyShack for $1.50 at a yardsale....it doesn't work. But it was $1.50, so you know, she had to have it. It sits on our front porch on a wicker table not dancing or singing. And not that it would make it any better if my Mom had a working CaddyShack Groundhog but at least it would be functional for terrifying my Sister on Christmas Eve or to bring out for company. My little pink vase is functional and adorable. The Groundhog...not so much.
It was my crazy Mother though, who taught me the joys of a flea market, home goods, and now...The Christmas Tree Shoppe. I bought bowls for our new dining room for 2$ a piece which you would swear were from Anthropologie- but they're NOT! We got about 8 picture frames for mayyyybe $15bux! Silverware! Coffee! It's just a magical, magical place. Granted I found myself reaching for things I clearly did not need. Soy sauce dishes.....not needed. A sherpa blanket. Not needed. Pink Flamingo Christmas lights for my Sister....I put them back but I'm not so sure those weren't needed. But you get my drift. We got in and got out with lots of great stuff for under $60bux!
So the next time you come over and are impressed with my bowls, my mermaids and my overall whimsical, flawless style. Remember....you can get it too. On the cheap. Just check yourself before you buy the silver, glitter Jesus.
xoxJac
Friday, July 29, 2011
Under Construction
Hello Friends
'Diva's Hungry Heart' is under going a make over, a soul search, a 'Come to Jesus' moment......both the blog and the Diva will be returning with a new look. Something less, 'Debbie Downer' and more, "lets do this!". It's time to stop crying and start living.
I hope you'll get back on "the wagon" with me! Stay tuned!
Jac
'Diva's Hungry Heart' is under going a make over, a soul search, a 'Come to Jesus' moment......both the blog and the Diva will be returning with a new look. Something less, 'Debbie Downer' and more, "lets do this!". It's time to stop crying and start living.
I hope you'll get back on "the wagon" with me! Stay tuned!
Jac
Thursday, July 21, 2011
giving up
Test. Test. Is this thing on? Is anyone out there? If you are, do you hate me? Good, we have something in common.
Lets go over the facts, shall we?
lbs gained back: 7
Months I have gone without the slightest use of my personal training sessions: 2
Nervous Breakdowns: 2
Times I've Suggested the world would be better off without me: too numerous to count
This shit is hard, ya'll. I know I started this blog supposedly to document this journey, this struggle, in hopes that it would help me to succeed. But a few days of not writing for fear of sharing what the truth was/is turned into a few weeks and then a month. The truth is that not long before we left for our honeymoon I stopped working out and started eating whatever the hell I wanted again. I didn't know why....I STILL don't know why...I mean wouldn't the weeks leading up to one's Honeymoon be when you hunker down on your diet and exercise regime? I suppose for a sane, healthy person. But I enabled myself by saying that Mark knew what I looked like and was going to love me anyway, AND even pick up the pizza I ordered for me. I thought, "well we're going to eat nothing but shit when we get there so its ok to start now" and before I knew it I was leaving for my Honeymoon in Jamaica with all of the weight I had worked so hard to lose piled back on plus a few extra pounds for added shame and self loathing. I was uncomfortable in my own skin the entire time. Pouring into bikinis that had fit rather nicely just a month before and covering my belly at the pool with a towel. As predicted, my Husband told me how beautiful I was every chance he could. I know! That JERK! But his unyielding love just made me feel worse....because I am CRAY CRAY.
The weeks leading up to the Honeymoon also made it quite clear to me that I am trying to "fix" and sort through problems that just might be out of my league. I am sad, worried, and plagued with fear and panic most days. And 85% of the time I couldn't even tell you why and it makes me sick. Emotionally and physically sick. So combine that with a very strict diet to prep for an upcoming show and you got yourself a recipe for some Sylvia Plath-like antics. I mean, who wouldn't want to spend their Summer like that!?!?
Not long after we arrived home from our Honeymoon my Tracy Anderson (demon health nazi muppet) 30 Day Method Book w/ DVD arrived in the mail and as I do with most diet books and dvds, I anticipated opening it and 30lbs magically falling off of my body onto the floor. That didn't happen. But I vowed to begin her program the following Monday which I did. For the most part I have done rather well. While I generally eat very little, I find that I am not physically hungry that much- I just crave the crap I miss.
I've been eating so clean and strict lately that your average "healthy" foods...oatmeal, eggs, granola, avocado etc.- seem like huge indulgences to me and I am driving myself to drink (literally) over the guilt I feel when they cross my mind let alone enter my mouth. My boss, whom I adore makes a guacamole so delicious that angels must kiss the avocados and weep as she mixes the ingredients. I ate 3 bites Tuesday which then prompted me to announce to Mark that I was having "whatever I wanted" for dinner. When I eat anything other than the TA approved foods I feel extremely full and sick but I ate an entire platter of linguine with clam sauce while emotionally checking out and surrendering my soul to "Flipping Out" for an hour. I had hoped that this 'cheat meal' would be enough to give me a taste of what I missed and allow me to carry on stronger and more committed the next morning. It didn't. What it did do was make it "ok" for me to inhale ramen noodles last night with a heavy heart and a defeated sigh of "oh well". WTF!?! WHO DOES THIS!?!?!
Today I woke up crampy and puffy from salt and fat- I could barely turn my wedding ring. I ate something I knew I shouldn't and set back my weight-loss and I didn't get anything from it. I felt guilty and bloated, not happy or satiated. I can't expect that given my history with over eating or eating the wrong foods that I assumed I'd feel much different. So, why? I am going to go to the gym tonight and I'm going to force myself to grovel to my trainer and start sessions again. I hope he's not too mean.
There is genuinely a part of me that wishes I could be fat and happy but I can't. The question, I guess, is how badly to I want to be fit and healthy? Debbie always says, "do you want a flat stomach or a cheeseburger?"....I would REALLY love a flat stomach but it is so much easier to eat a cheeseburger. Carrie says, "extraordinary effort gets extraordinary results". Why do I always feel too tired for all of it?
JAC
Lets go over the facts, shall we?
lbs gained back: 7
Months I have gone without the slightest use of my personal training sessions: 2
Nervous Breakdowns: 2
Times I've Suggested the world would be better off without me: too numerous to count
This shit is hard, ya'll. I know I started this blog supposedly to document this journey, this struggle, in hopes that it would help me to succeed. But a few days of not writing for fear of sharing what the truth was/is turned into a few weeks and then a month. The truth is that not long before we left for our honeymoon I stopped working out and started eating whatever the hell I wanted again. I didn't know why....I STILL don't know why...I mean wouldn't the weeks leading up to one's Honeymoon be when you hunker down on your diet and exercise regime? I suppose for a sane, healthy person. But I enabled myself by saying that Mark knew what I looked like and was going to love me anyway, AND even pick up the pizza I ordered for me. I thought, "well we're going to eat nothing but shit when we get there so its ok to start now" and before I knew it I was leaving for my Honeymoon in Jamaica with all of the weight I had worked so hard to lose piled back on plus a few extra pounds for added shame and self loathing. I was uncomfortable in my own skin the entire time. Pouring into bikinis that had fit rather nicely just a month before and covering my belly at the pool with a towel. As predicted, my Husband told me how beautiful I was every chance he could. I know! That JERK! But his unyielding love just made me feel worse....because I am CRAY CRAY.
The weeks leading up to the Honeymoon also made it quite clear to me that I am trying to "fix" and sort through problems that just might be out of my league. I am sad, worried, and plagued with fear and panic most days. And 85% of the time I couldn't even tell you why and it makes me sick. Emotionally and physically sick. So combine that with a very strict diet to prep for an upcoming show and you got yourself a recipe for some Sylvia Plath-like antics. I mean, who wouldn't want to spend their Summer like that!?!?
Not long after we arrived home from our Honeymoon my Tracy Anderson (demon health nazi muppet) 30 Day Method Book w/ DVD arrived in the mail and as I do with most diet books and dvds, I anticipated opening it and 30lbs magically falling off of my body onto the floor. That didn't happen. But I vowed to begin her program the following Monday which I did. For the most part I have done rather well. While I generally eat very little, I find that I am not physically hungry that much- I just crave the crap I miss.
I've been eating so clean and strict lately that your average "healthy" foods...oatmeal, eggs, granola, avocado etc.- seem like huge indulgences to me and I am driving myself to drink (literally) over the guilt I feel when they cross my mind let alone enter my mouth. My boss, whom I adore makes a guacamole so delicious that angels must kiss the avocados and weep as she mixes the ingredients. I ate 3 bites Tuesday which then prompted me to announce to Mark that I was having "whatever I wanted" for dinner. When I eat anything other than the TA approved foods I feel extremely full and sick but I ate an entire platter of linguine with clam sauce while emotionally checking out and surrendering my soul to "Flipping Out" for an hour. I had hoped that this 'cheat meal' would be enough to give me a taste of what I missed and allow me to carry on stronger and more committed the next morning. It didn't. What it did do was make it "ok" for me to inhale ramen noodles last night with a heavy heart and a defeated sigh of "oh well". WTF!?! WHO DOES THIS!?!?!
Today I woke up crampy and puffy from salt and fat- I could barely turn my wedding ring. I ate something I knew I shouldn't and set back my weight-loss and I didn't get anything from it. I felt guilty and bloated, not happy or satiated. I can't expect that given my history with over eating or eating the wrong foods that I assumed I'd feel much different. So, why? I am going to go to the gym tonight and I'm going to force myself to grovel to my trainer and start sessions again. I hope he's not too mean.
There is genuinely a part of me that wishes I could be fat and happy but I can't. The question, I guess, is how badly to I want to be fit and healthy? Debbie always says, "do you want a flat stomach or a cheeseburger?"....I would REALLY love a flat stomach but it is so much easier to eat a cheeseburger. Carrie says, "extraordinary effort gets extraordinary results". Why do I always feel too tired for all of it?
JAC
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
OK, I Suck
Hi Friends
So. I suck. I know. I don't update. Guess what? Join me in the acknowledgment of my suckage and let us move on. I had a day to myself today. Which I've managed to waste and misuse tremendously. I also have Mondays off now and in the past 2 I've accomplished NOTHING. Not one blog, not one chapter outline, not one room remodel. NOTHING. So I am an asshole and today we're moving on. I've gained weight back, I've eaten like a Carney at a hot dog stand and I'm about done.
So I'm going to make the bed, wash my face, run the errands I need to, mail some Father's Day cards and join the human race. I'm free of the bad shit. I made changes that needed to be made. There is a sad cloud hanging over my head and being as I've rid myself of much of the drama I had around a few weeks ago- I have to assume this is a prop I need to dispose of. So I'm throwing it away and I'm going to hop back on the band wagon today. Sad songs be damned. Lets get happy.
XO
jac
So. I suck. I know. I don't update. Guess what? Join me in the acknowledgment of my suckage and let us move on. I had a day to myself today. Which I've managed to waste and misuse tremendously. I also have Mondays off now and in the past 2 I've accomplished NOTHING. Not one blog, not one chapter outline, not one room remodel. NOTHING. So I am an asshole and today we're moving on. I've gained weight back, I've eaten like a Carney at a hot dog stand and I'm about done.
So I'm going to make the bed, wash my face, run the errands I need to, mail some Father's Day cards and join the human race. I'm free of the bad shit. I made changes that needed to be made. There is a sad cloud hanging over my head and being as I've rid myself of much of the drama I had around a few weeks ago- I have to assume this is a prop I need to dispose of. So I'm throwing it away and I'm going to hop back on the band wagon today. Sad songs be damned. Lets get happy.
XO
jac
Friday, May 6, 2011
'Scary Numbers'...Goodnight and Goodluck
Well this is it kids. The day we say 'adieu' to the 170's.....because those days are gone! GONE I SAY! WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I can't even tell you the shock and then accomplishment and joy I felt this morning when I weighed in. I knew I would get here but it seemed like it was taking forever. Last night I hosted a very small gathering of some of my besties for a Skinnygirl Cinco de Mayo as the lot of us are gearing up for performances and just trying to be healthier in general. I was worried that forcing them to enjoy yogurt with lemon juice (Skinnygirl Sour Cream) and whole wheat tortillas with turkey meat would make them hate me and have me committed. But they enjoyed it and for cardio and good times all around we chased after the Mister Softee truck after dinner for Sundaes. I know Debbie....I know...but I haven't had REAL ice cream in ....well a long time. I've been 'enjoying' those Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches but last night I required soft serve with crushed pineapple and cherries. I know Debbie....I know... But once I gazed at it, bought it, and ate it , I promptly accepted that there was no forgoing an early morning work out. And so it was. It that Sundae was worth it. Totes.
Now as I awoke this morning my prayer was that I would not have gained anything- that I would simply have maintained. I just wanted to stay the weight that I was prior to a turkey taco and a sundae. So- I peed. Dropped my robe. Sighed. And stepped up. 169lbs. I was down 2lbs. TWO POUNDS! Shut the front door! I almost died. I jumped into the shower with a grin that would not quit and lathered up my thin, frail body (well a gal can dream cant she?) with a Tropical Breeze scented soap singing "Sex Shooter" by Appolonia. It's Friday, I'm 169lbs, I am moving on to bigger, and better things. And I am in the 160s!
Next week I am going to start Spinning Classes!! Can abs and the loss of the love-handles be far behind!?!
XO
JKD
I can't even tell you the shock and then accomplishment and joy I felt this morning when I weighed in. I knew I would get here but it seemed like it was taking forever. Last night I hosted a very small gathering of some of my besties for a Skinnygirl Cinco de Mayo as the lot of us are gearing up for performances and just trying to be healthier in general. I was worried that forcing them to enjoy yogurt with lemon juice (Skinnygirl Sour Cream) and whole wheat tortillas with turkey meat would make them hate me and have me committed. But they enjoyed it and for cardio and good times all around we chased after the Mister Softee truck after dinner for Sundaes. I know Debbie....I know...but I haven't had REAL ice cream in ....well a long time. I've been 'enjoying' those Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches but last night I required soft serve with crushed pineapple and cherries. I know Debbie....I know... But once I gazed at it, bought it, and ate it , I promptly accepted that there was no forgoing an early morning work out. And so it was. It that Sundae was worth it. Totes.
Now as I awoke this morning my prayer was that I would not have gained anything- that I would simply have maintained. I just wanted to stay the weight that I was prior to a turkey taco and a sundae. So- I peed. Dropped my robe. Sighed. And stepped up. 169lbs. I was down 2lbs. TWO POUNDS! Shut the front door! I almost died. I jumped into the shower with a grin that would not quit and lathered up my thin, frail body (well a gal can dream cant she?) with a Tropical Breeze scented soap singing "Sex Shooter" by Appolonia. It's Friday, I'm 169lbs, I am moving on to bigger, and better things. And I am in the 160s!
Next week I am going to start Spinning Classes!! Can abs and the loss of the love-handles be far behind!?!
XO
JKD
Thursday, May 5, 2011
My Revelation Revolution
Hi Dolls! Well who's keeping track?
I want to thank everyone who's along for the ride. Whether you read to escape the trials and tribulations of workin' for the man. Or check in to make sure I haven't killed myself. If you're reading because you know all of these breakdowns, binges and battles all too well, I wish I could wrap my arms around you and let you know what so many of my friends have let me know in the past week: You are not alone. You just aren't. I know it. I know how badly this journey can hurt and I know that the worst part of it for some (like me) is not knowing where all of this terrible pain stems from. That's one of my biggest hurdles and fears right now- trying to figure out where this comes from and yet I am terribly afraid of the work it will take to learn the truth and what I mind find out. In the meantime...I cannot tell you what profound healing I have found in a few simple things and I thought I'd share them with you:
Forgiveness: Last week , the day after nervous breakdown number 3, my friend Collin posted one of his many whirlwind facebook statuses. PS, Collin posts a status everyday, that without fail, you read and are forced to take a step back and take a good look at something in your life. That particular day he'd posted a passage on resentment. Ah resentment, my good and faithful friend. I just adored resentment. It clung to me like a wort and just grew and grew and was recently taking over my soul. I was holding some pretty epic resentment toward one certain someone that was choking me. Consuming me. And keeping me locked down and this was all over someone I rarely see, rarely speak to, someone who at the end of the day, doesn't matter. And so I re-read the passage on Collin's wall, "No resentment is justified. Today: When I discover a resentment, I'll see it for what it is and let it go". Whoa back. NO RESENTMENT IS JUSTIFIED???!?! But what about my resentment??!? This nutbag infiltrates my worrisome mind daily and I have made it a part-time job to hate her. Wait a minute. "I have made it a part-time job to hate her"? I am spending days, hours, emails, precious time on someone who is inconsequential. Someone who I do not need to spend any time on. I am giving this person a part of me that I could use for positivity, love and life? Yes, that's what I was doing. I took some deep breaths..I did some thinking and considered that if this was a "competition"...well then clearly I had won. I got the guy, I got the love, the life, the laughter, the happiness. I got it all. And so, no, I will no longer give up my joy to someone I hate. And for the record, I am allowed to dislike, even hate someone. Resentment is horse of a different color...and that's not just because this person looks like a horse. What? Oh right.... that was petty. Sorry, I'm still learning. But 8 days ago I took a deep breath in, and let out a heavy sigh. I sent the negativity out. I rid myself of this resentment and vowed I was better, and stronger than that. And I am. I encourage you today, if you are letting anything or anyone keep you from even an ounce of the joy that you are entitled to just by simply existing on this planet, let it go! Take a moment to be still, find peace and release resentment. You will free up a space in your heart and leave it open to the good.
Meditation:
SERIOUSLY! TRY IT! I am someone who can rarely, if ever, find any quiet in my mind. So I've always thrown meditation some sassy side eye and tried to ignore the person who even suggested it though secretly I plot their demise. But as Debbie and I continue our work in my health coaching sessions I realized one of the places I am seriously lacking in is the spirituality department. So while I search for my own path of Spirituality, I decided to start with mediation, foolish though it seemed. I downloaded some Meditation Podcasts on jealousy, peace, body image etc. to my IPOD and took a moment after my morning workouts to tune in and breath. WOWZA! To find peace, even if it's just for 5 minutes a day... c'est si bon!
Mirror,Mirror: We all look at ourselves in the mirror everyday. Well, I do. Sometimes when I'm sitting in bed talking to Mark, I look straight ahead at the mirror because it feels like we're on our own show :) Anyway.... I have made it a point to look in the mirror and though I may be tempted to point out and criticize everything I don't like- I am making it a priority to pick out at least 3 things I do. Whether it's my hair, my eyes, the fact that today there is less muffin stop spillage over my skinny jeans than there was 3 days ago....I am saying it out loud and being nicer to myself.
Maybe one of these suggestions or all 3 can help you too...just give em' a whirl! I'm also looking forward to sharing with you some of the diet/exercise tips I'm learning in personal training and health coaching soon! Stay tuned!!
* a huge, heartfelt thanks to Miss Tricky for her talent. She gave this poor little blog of mine a much needed makeover and now I feel like a real blogger! Thank you Mama Moonpie! What you can whip up in an hour while cooking, cleaning and feeding a baby never ceases to amaze me!*
Check out Miss Tricky at : http://www.misstricky.net/
Whether you are a Mother, a Daughter, a Brick-Layer or a Unicorn- Miss Tricky has something for you!
Again thank you to everyone who as been loving and supporting me from both near and far!!!
XOXO
JKD
- Nervous breakdowns: 3
- Tears cried: .....there was a tsunami left in my wake for about 2 weeks
- lbs lost: a total of 6 now :)
- Body Fat Percent: from 32.7 to 30 in under 2 weeks! EPIC!
- Skinny jeans BACK ON! and those bitches haven't fit over my thigh since 2 October's ago!
I want to thank everyone who's along for the ride. Whether you read to escape the trials and tribulations of workin' for the man. Or check in to make sure I haven't killed myself. If you're reading because you know all of these breakdowns, binges and battles all too well, I wish I could wrap my arms around you and let you know what so many of my friends have let me know in the past week: You are not alone. You just aren't. I know it. I know how badly this journey can hurt and I know that the worst part of it for some (like me) is not knowing where all of this terrible pain stems from. That's one of my biggest hurdles and fears right now- trying to figure out where this comes from and yet I am terribly afraid of the work it will take to learn the truth and what I mind find out. In the meantime...I cannot tell you what profound healing I have found in a few simple things and I thought I'd share them with you:
Forgiveness: Last week , the day after nervous breakdown number 3, my friend Collin posted one of his many whirlwind facebook statuses. PS, Collin posts a status everyday, that without fail, you read and are forced to take a step back and take a good look at something in your life. That particular day he'd posted a passage on resentment. Ah resentment, my good and faithful friend. I just adored resentment. It clung to me like a wort and just grew and grew and was recently taking over my soul. I was holding some pretty epic resentment toward one certain someone that was choking me. Consuming me. And keeping me locked down and this was all over someone I rarely see, rarely speak to, someone who at the end of the day, doesn't matter. And so I re-read the passage on Collin's wall, "No resentment is justified. Today: When I discover a resentment, I'll see it for what it is and let it go". Whoa back. NO RESENTMENT IS JUSTIFIED???!?! But what about my resentment??!? This nutbag infiltrates my worrisome mind daily and I have made it a part-time job to hate her. Wait a minute. "I have made it a part-time job to hate her"? I am spending days, hours, emails, precious time on someone who is inconsequential. Someone who I do not need to spend any time on. I am giving this person a part of me that I could use for positivity, love and life? Yes, that's what I was doing. I took some deep breaths..I did some thinking and considered that if this was a "competition"...well then clearly I had won. I got the guy, I got the love, the life, the laughter, the happiness. I got it all. And so, no, I will no longer give up my joy to someone I hate. And for the record, I am allowed to dislike, even hate someone. Resentment is horse of a different color...and that's not just because this person looks like a horse. What? Oh right.... that was petty. Sorry, I'm still learning. But 8 days ago I took a deep breath in, and let out a heavy sigh. I sent the negativity out. I rid myself of this resentment and vowed I was better, and stronger than that. And I am. I encourage you today, if you are letting anything or anyone keep you from even an ounce of the joy that you are entitled to just by simply existing on this planet, let it go! Take a moment to be still, find peace and release resentment. You will free up a space in your heart and leave it open to the good.
Meditation:
SERIOUSLY! TRY IT! I am someone who can rarely, if ever, find any quiet in my mind. So I've always thrown meditation some sassy side eye and tried to ignore the person who even suggested it though secretly I plot their demise. But as Debbie and I continue our work in my health coaching sessions I realized one of the places I am seriously lacking in is the spirituality department. So while I search for my own path of Spirituality, I decided to start with mediation, foolish though it seemed. I downloaded some Meditation Podcasts on jealousy, peace, body image etc. to my IPOD and took a moment after my morning workouts to tune in and breath. WOWZA! To find peace, even if it's just for 5 minutes a day... c'est si bon!
Mirror,Mirror: We all look at ourselves in the mirror everyday. Well, I do. Sometimes when I'm sitting in bed talking to Mark, I look straight ahead at the mirror because it feels like we're on our own show :) Anyway.... I have made it a point to look in the mirror and though I may be tempted to point out and criticize everything I don't like- I am making it a priority to pick out at least 3 things I do. Whether it's my hair, my eyes, the fact that today there is less muffin stop spillage over my skinny jeans than there was 3 days ago....I am saying it out loud and being nicer to myself.
Maybe one of these suggestions or all 3 can help you too...just give em' a whirl! I'm also looking forward to sharing with you some of the diet/exercise tips I'm learning in personal training and health coaching soon! Stay tuned!!
* a huge, heartfelt thanks to Miss Tricky for her talent. She gave this poor little blog of mine a much needed makeover and now I feel like a real blogger! Thank you Mama Moonpie! What you can whip up in an hour while cooking, cleaning and feeding a baby never ceases to amaze me!*
Check out Miss Tricky at : http://www.misstricky.net/
Whether you are a Mother, a Daughter, a Brick-Layer or a Unicorn- Miss Tricky has something for you!
Again thank you to everyone who as been loving and supporting me from both near and far!!!
XOXO
JKD
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Learn To Let Go
OK- so I'm checking in. I'm coming "home" and I'm going to try to start over. I want to stop lying, stop making excuses and start living. BUT....
I lost my shit last night. Full on hysterical, nervous breakdown, choking on snot, screaming, crying. This journey is so hard. I am addicted to food. I am addicted to the momentary happiness I feel when I eat a big mac. I feel sad or even a little bored and I think cheese fries will solve the problem. It's embarrassing and maddening and I hate myself. And that is the real problem. I hate myself. And I am not doing this for me. I am doing it to make people who do not matter, jealous. I am doing it because I have convinced myself I need to look a certain way on stage. I remind myself that my husband is a HEALTH and PHYS ED Teacher (oh the irony) and that it must look pretty ridiculous, or so I think, for him to have an overweight, out of shape wife. I have seen the numbers on my health evaluation. I am "high risk". I am 25 years old and "high risk"....I could develop hypertension, diabetes, I have a history of heart disease with my Father but never mind that...I don't want to look like a whale on my honeymoon. And I'll take pills and make myself sick to get there quickly rather than commit to finding out why I am this way and literally save my own life. Why won't I save myself? Why don't I want to take care of myself and do this for me? Why does getting dressed, taking pictures, walking into a room, living, have nothing to do with being me and revolve solely around how I look? I feel no security or trust. I assume the smallest mistake will finally open my Husband's eyes up to the Cow he married, or that if I pour a beer wrong at my new bartending job, people will likely blame it on my fat arms and not the fact that I've never bartended before. And there is a small, rational part of my mind that recognizes this as crazy and wrong but the rest of my mindset is there to swallow the rational thoughts up. Some things are coming to the surface and they are scary and sad. I hate my Mother. I love her more than life but I also hate her....I am so angry with her. I am angry with her for the monster she created by making me her partner in crime from such a young age, though I know she did the best she could. I am hurt that I was taught to eat when I was sad, to reward my triumphs with food. I am in such pain knowing that from a young age people knew my weakness and saw so clearly how they could bribe me. I am embarrassed for the little girl who was left with food to babysit her and keep her company. I am sick that this is all I know. I don't know what else I am supposed to fill my life up with if it's not going to be food and I don't feel strong enough to find out.
I want to hide. I want to sign training contracts and magically wake up 50lbs thinner the next day. But I don't want to hurt and run and sweat and I know that I have to and I am terrified it will never be enough and beyond that I don't know why I think I have to be thin in order to like myself and that is scary. People don't understand; I get it! I need to burn more calories than I take in. I need to do cardio AND strength training. I need to eat salad. I got it. It's not a question of not having picked up the right diet book. I own them all. I guess I'm just expecting or hoping that I will buy the one that does the work for me.
I feel like a loser and very, very lost and scared. I need life to slow down so I can prepare meals, and sleep and make "me time" and plan but there's never any time. I am trying. Should I try harder? Should I try something new? I am so tired. But I woke up earlier and went to the gym and got it over with this morning and I did that. It's done. Now I have to do it all over again tomorrow. You know what I want to do? I want to cry. I want to crawl into my bed at home and cry. But I have to work. And then rehearse. Then tomorrow, lather, rinse, repeat. The intensity of the failing over and over again just feels like too much this time and I just don't know if I'm ever going to be comfortable in my skin, or happy or healthy.
help....
J
I lost my shit last night. Full on hysterical, nervous breakdown, choking on snot, screaming, crying. This journey is so hard. I am addicted to food. I am addicted to the momentary happiness I feel when I eat a big mac. I feel sad or even a little bored and I think cheese fries will solve the problem. It's embarrassing and maddening and I hate myself. And that is the real problem. I hate myself. And I am not doing this for me. I am doing it to make people who do not matter, jealous. I am doing it because I have convinced myself I need to look a certain way on stage. I remind myself that my husband is a HEALTH and PHYS ED Teacher (oh the irony) and that it must look pretty ridiculous, or so I think, for him to have an overweight, out of shape wife. I have seen the numbers on my health evaluation. I am "high risk". I am 25 years old and "high risk"....I could develop hypertension, diabetes, I have a history of heart disease with my Father but never mind that...I don't want to look like a whale on my honeymoon. And I'll take pills and make myself sick to get there quickly rather than commit to finding out why I am this way and literally save my own life. Why won't I save myself? Why don't I want to take care of myself and do this for me? Why does getting dressed, taking pictures, walking into a room, living, have nothing to do with being me and revolve solely around how I look? I feel no security or trust. I assume the smallest mistake will finally open my Husband's eyes up to the Cow he married, or that if I pour a beer wrong at my new bartending job, people will likely blame it on my fat arms and not the fact that I've never bartended before. And there is a small, rational part of my mind that recognizes this as crazy and wrong but the rest of my mindset is there to swallow the rational thoughts up. Some things are coming to the surface and they are scary and sad. I hate my Mother. I love her more than life but I also hate her....I am so angry with her. I am angry with her for the monster she created by making me her partner in crime from such a young age, though I know she did the best she could. I am hurt that I was taught to eat when I was sad, to reward my triumphs with food. I am in such pain knowing that from a young age people knew my weakness and saw so clearly how they could bribe me. I am embarrassed for the little girl who was left with food to babysit her and keep her company. I am sick that this is all I know. I don't know what else I am supposed to fill my life up with if it's not going to be food and I don't feel strong enough to find out.
I want to hide. I want to sign training contracts and magically wake up 50lbs thinner the next day. But I don't want to hurt and run and sweat and I know that I have to and I am terrified it will never be enough and beyond that I don't know why I think I have to be thin in order to like myself and that is scary. People don't understand; I get it! I need to burn more calories than I take in. I need to do cardio AND strength training. I need to eat salad. I got it. It's not a question of not having picked up the right diet book. I own them all. I guess I'm just expecting or hoping that I will buy the one that does the work for me.
I feel like a loser and very, very lost and scared. I need life to slow down so I can prepare meals, and sleep and make "me time" and plan but there's never any time. I am trying. Should I try harder? Should I try something new? I am so tired. But I woke up earlier and went to the gym and got it over with this morning and I did that. It's done. Now I have to do it all over again tomorrow. You know what I want to do? I want to cry. I want to crawl into my bed at home and cry. But I have to work. And then rehearse. Then tomorrow, lather, rinse, repeat. The intensity of the failing over and over again just feels like too much this time and I just don't know if I'm ever going to be comfortable in my skin, or happy or healthy.
help....
J
Monday, March 7, 2011
Hunger? Meet Jaclyn.
"Have a mindful weekend..." Debbie's sign off in her email this past Friday were four words that would haunt me all weekend long. Thank God.
Usually, like most people I view the weekend as a free-for-all cheat-fest. 2 1/2 days of mindless indulgence and an excuse to stuff myself rather then nurture myself. I lay in bed, I let time slip away. I request pancakes rather then the healthy egg-whites and cheese I really do love but which seem far too conservative for a weekend. I never work out and sleeping? In a Buddy the Elf-like way I must say, Sleeping's my favorite! This weekend? Mrs Dixon was a total bad ass. Friday night my step-daughter wanted Chinese food....this never happens. I always want it and she vetoes and we move on to another culinary delight. So we went to a really great Chinese restaurant in Woodbury-proper. I was hungry. My tummy told me so. So I had waited, listened to my body and we were in agreement it was time to eat. I ordered soup and a california roll with BROWN rice, thank you! Low-sodium soy sauce and a howdoyalikemenow!?! We had lo-mein for the table which I did indeed enjoy in small portions and when I felt full...I stopped eating. I know, crazy right?! Imagine my joy to weigh myself the next morning and find out I had enjoyed myself the night before without destroying my 4lb weight loss!! I was, I AM, encouraged.
I'm also encouraged in other aspects of life....having decided to "let go and let God". Well let go, and let God, and Mark. What can I say? They're both really great guys!
A brief explanation.....my step-daughter and I have hit a rough patch over the last couple of months. Caught up in a haze of wedding and a, "we are family" like high we became quite close around Christmas time and it was great. We were in contact daily, she confided in me and I was even friend-requested on Face book (which I now believe is a tool of Satan) thus hurling me into her world full force with hourly updates containing far more information then I really needed to know. I felt overwhelmed, protective, and quite honestly....screwed. It was the ultimate, "damned if you do, damned if you don't"...tell her Father, my HUSBAND, exactly what she's up to and risk my closeness with her, or protect her from herself? Hands tied, back to the wall I chose to protect her from herself and became the narky step-mom she loved to hate. Her weekends at our house suddenly became filled with silence or snark, (from both She and I) my Husband caught between the two people he loved more than anything, and weeknights were filled with my tears, his shouts and mornings hugging, apologizing, promising we'd both try harder to understand the others position. Thankfully we both kept our word and I realized this is not my "battle" to fight. I just need to exist and be there if and when she needs me. She has parents and no matter how I feel about their methods, she is their child not mine and this is their show to run, I'm along for the ride as my Husband's partner and hopefully my step-daughters friend and supporter. I could choose to worry but there's nothing I can do, so I will just be worrying myself sick and what good is that? So she and I had a great talk this weekend; I let her know my new stance and that I'm there if she needs me. It was very hard to come to a decision that in the end seems so obvious, and quite honestly much easier than what I've been trying to accomplish but it feels good to have arrived at the destination. Peace. I know we'll have rocky roads ahead, I know that. But I'm grateful to have found my place and to be in a good place with the people I love so very much.
JAC
Usually, like most people I view the weekend as a free-for-all cheat-fest. 2 1/2 days of mindless indulgence and an excuse to stuff myself rather then nurture myself. I lay in bed, I let time slip away. I request pancakes rather then the healthy egg-whites and cheese I really do love but which seem far too conservative for a weekend. I never work out and sleeping? In a Buddy the Elf-like way I must say, Sleeping's my favorite! This weekend? Mrs Dixon was a total bad ass. Friday night my step-daughter wanted Chinese food....this never happens. I always want it and she vetoes and we move on to another culinary delight. So we went to a really great Chinese restaurant in Woodbury-proper. I was hungry. My tummy told me so. So I had waited, listened to my body and we were in agreement it was time to eat. I ordered soup and a california roll with BROWN rice, thank you! Low-sodium soy sauce and a howdoyalikemenow!?! We had lo-mein for the table which I did indeed enjoy in small portions and when I felt full...I stopped eating. I know, crazy right?! Imagine my joy to weigh myself the next morning and find out I had enjoyed myself the night before without destroying my 4lb weight loss!! I was, I AM, encouraged.
I'm also encouraged in other aspects of life....having decided to "let go and let God". Well let go, and let God, and Mark. What can I say? They're both really great guys!
A brief explanation.....my step-daughter and I have hit a rough patch over the last couple of months. Caught up in a haze of wedding and a, "we are family" like high we became quite close around Christmas time and it was great. We were in contact daily, she confided in me and I was even friend-requested on Face book (which I now believe is a tool of Satan) thus hurling me into her world full force with hourly updates containing far more information then I really needed to know. I felt overwhelmed, protective, and quite honestly....screwed. It was the ultimate, "damned if you do, damned if you don't"...tell her Father, my HUSBAND, exactly what she's up to and risk my closeness with her, or protect her from herself? Hands tied, back to the wall I chose to protect her from herself and became the narky step-mom she loved to hate. Her weekends at our house suddenly became filled with silence or snark, (from both She and I) my Husband caught between the two people he loved more than anything, and weeknights were filled with my tears, his shouts and mornings hugging, apologizing, promising we'd both try harder to understand the others position. Thankfully we both kept our word and I realized this is not my "battle" to fight. I just need to exist and be there if and when she needs me. She has parents and no matter how I feel about their methods, she is their child not mine and this is their show to run, I'm along for the ride as my Husband's partner and hopefully my step-daughters friend and supporter. I could choose to worry but there's nothing I can do, so I will just be worrying myself sick and what good is that? So she and I had a great talk this weekend; I let her know my new stance and that I'm there if she needs me. It was very hard to come to a decision that in the end seems so obvious, and quite honestly much easier than what I've been trying to accomplish but it feels good to have arrived at the destination. Peace. I know we'll have rocky roads ahead, I know that. But I'm grateful to have found my place and to be in a good place with the people I love so very much.
JAC
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
"If You Bite It, Write It"
I just read that fantabulous quote from another weight-loss blogger and I. DIE. for it. It's a scary concept but it goes back to my hoping that the writing of the gluttony keeps you (me) honest. But thinking of that...I guess my theory was, "I'll shame my fat self into thinness". And after meeting with my new Health Coach, Debbie last night....I'm pretty sure that's not the idea. In fact, I'm positive. It's becoming abundantly clear that I really do not love or like myself. I mean I suppose deep down I do otherwise I'd take whats left of my checking account, buy 20 cheese-steaks and die, fat and alone on my couch. So I guess I do love me just enough to NOT let that happen.
BUT- I do not like or love myself enough to fully come to terms with the idea that anyone...let alone the most perfect someone loved me so much he wanted to marry me and be wonderful to me every day, forever. I don't love myself enough to demand the best and only what I'm worthy of from jobs, from acquaintances, from life.....so I want to work on that. Because according to a lot of people, I'm pretty great. So I'd like to see what they see and join the fan club.
But, last night was pretty major. It was the first night, in a long time that I didn't come home and binge. I ate dinner. In my kitchen (we were standing but it's a start). And I went to bed without a plate of snacks. I got a good nights sleep, I didn't feel sick or particularly dismal when I woke up and thanks to some new focus points I discovered with Debbie's help, I have remained pretty positive today and am looking forward to what lies ahead - not dwelling on the doom. It is also unbelievable the support and love I am feeling wrapped around me. Since announcing my intentions for the future I have heard a pride in both my parents voices that I had begun to doubt I was capable of inducing. Mark reminds me everyday that whether I do or I don't, he loves me more than anything. My friends are ready, willing, and able to help in any way they can. And after talking to Debbie last night I realized I am going to do it all. And then some. I'm beyond excited. I am busting at the seams....in a good way this time. I am on the road to my authentic self and it's going to be a hard, wonderful journey. I gotta have faith.
XOJAC
Monday, February 21, 2011
Farewell, Lumpy!
Coming to you live from our home office....where I am quietly sobbing. It would seem NOTHING can go smoothly...expecially not "lumpy". Lumpy the lymphnode was the 3rd person in the Dixon marriage until 8am this morning when he was divorced. Lemme 'splain...
Back in the Fall I had found a lump on the back of my neck, and being un-insured I told myself it would be gone by morning and tried not to dream of chemotherapy. But the next day when it was still hangin around and my Husband, the King of, " it's no big deal" gave me an, "I don't like the way this feels" look...I started to panic and made a Doctors appointment for the Tuesday following our wedding. A GP also gave me a , "yep you're screwed" gaze upon examination and ordered up blood work and an ultrasound. A week later the cool stare of a 20 year old ultrasound tech pretty much suggested I start planning my funeral and I promptly fainted on a LabCorp employee who looked like Precious. I sobbed to my GP that I had truly started planning my funeral and couldn't wait his suggested 2 weeks for a follow up. "I need to know by Friday if I have cancer because if I have to wait any longer I'll have a heart attack anyway". After countless nights of sobbing to my poor, loving Husband and telling him I was sorry but I wouldn't have the strength to make it too long after my diagnosis and it's probably better that I go first anyway. Many of those, "I want you to move on and find someone" (although...who am I kidding, no I don't) conversations. Plans for my funeral and the division of my estate. And by estate, I referred to my 99' Saturn which I requested be set on fire on the lawn of the ex boyfriend who purchased it. And the list of friends to disburse my jewelry and Anthropolgie glassware among. After all of that....my bloodwork was clear and Mark and I hugged, cried, and immediately ordered a pizza.
But that was not the end of Lumpy. No, Lumpy was a growing boy and had big plans. I swear, there were days I felt like this thing was going to pop out of my neck...it was awful. My GP suggested that since it would be easy to do so, I should follow up with an ENT. I did. My ENT, Dr. Hall suggested we get the bugger the hell outta my neck and I was overjoyed if not just a tad less than thrilled to be going under the knife for the second time in a year. My first and only experience with Anethesia was not a pleasant one and resulted in my laying in bed with a bucket and consequently never being able to consume Lorna Doones and/or Grape Juice ever again. Never. Ever. But today's experience at Underwood Memorial Hospital or as I call it, Blunderwood, was a fairly pleasant one. Although whilst weighing me the Admissions Nurse slapped me sideways with this lil diddy, "hmmm...looks can be decieving." I'm still not sure how I take this other than "wow, you wear that fat well". Dr. Hall played Tom Jones' "Sex Bomb" in lieu of any George Michael while I was being sedated and my last words were, "this is SO Nip/Tuck!". Less than an hour later, Lumpy was gone. Dr. Hall won't have the biopsy results back for a few weeks but he's very confident it was only a lymphnode aggrivated by an infection and pressured by fatty tissue. PHEW!
But now I'm home and several hours after surgery, thinking I was in the clear and home free from pain....I can't turn my neck. I can't shower until Wednesday and no one in that damn hospital wrote me a script for shit! I need pills, people! I am feeling quite filthy and very Valley of the Dolls. I'm in no mood. Anyway....just thought I'd check in.
I gotta have faith...
XOJAC
Back in the Fall I had found a lump on the back of my neck, and being un-insured I told myself it would be gone by morning and tried not to dream of chemotherapy. But the next day when it was still hangin around and my Husband, the King of, " it's no big deal" gave me an, "I don't like the way this feels" look...I started to panic and made a Doctors appointment for the Tuesday following our wedding. A GP also gave me a , "yep you're screwed" gaze upon examination and ordered up blood work and an ultrasound. A week later the cool stare of a 20 year old ultrasound tech pretty much suggested I start planning my funeral and I promptly fainted on a LabCorp employee who looked like Precious. I sobbed to my GP that I had truly started planning my funeral and couldn't wait his suggested 2 weeks for a follow up. "I need to know by Friday if I have cancer because if I have to wait any longer I'll have a heart attack anyway". After countless nights of sobbing to my poor, loving Husband and telling him I was sorry but I wouldn't have the strength to make it too long after my diagnosis and it's probably better that I go first anyway. Many of those, "I want you to move on and find someone" (although...who am I kidding, no I don't) conversations. Plans for my funeral and the division of my estate. And by estate, I referred to my 99' Saturn which I requested be set on fire on the lawn of the ex boyfriend who purchased it. And the list of friends to disburse my jewelry and Anthropolgie glassware among. After all of that....my bloodwork was clear and Mark and I hugged, cried, and immediately ordered a pizza.
But that was not the end of Lumpy. No, Lumpy was a growing boy and had big plans. I swear, there were days I felt like this thing was going to pop out of my neck...it was awful. My GP suggested that since it would be easy to do so, I should follow up with an ENT. I did. My ENT, Dr. Hall suggested we get the bugger the hell outta my neck and I was overjoyed if not just a tad less than thrilled to be going under the knife for the second time in a year. My first and only experience with Anethesia was not a pleasant one and resulted in my laying in bed with a bucket and consequently never being able to consume Lorna Doones and/or Grape Juice ever again. Never. Ever. But today's experience at Underwood Memorial Hospital or as I call it, Blunderwood, was a fairly pleasant one. Although whilst weighing me the Admissions Nurse slapped me sideways with this lil diddy, "hmmm...looks can be decieving." I'm still not sure how I take this other than "wow, you wear that fat well". Dr. Hall played Tom Jones' "Sex Bomb" in lieu of any George Michael while I was being sedated and my last words were, "this is SO Nip/Tuck!". Less than an hour later, Lumpy was gone. Dr. Hall won't have the biopsy results back for a few weeks but he's very confident it was only a lymphnode aggrivated by an infection and pressured by fatty tissue. PHEW!
But now I'm home and several hours after surgery, thinking I was in the clear and home free from pain....I can't turn my neck. I can't shower until Wednesday and no one in that damn hospital wrote me a script for shit! I need pills, people! I am feeling quite filthy and very Valley of the Dolls. I'm in no mood. Anyway....just thought I'd check in.
I gotta have faith...
XOJAC
Thursday, February 17, 2011
One More Try
I am so grateful that I can tell Mark exactly how I feel and I'm met with an honest opinion seriously lacking in judgment. Lucky doesn't even begin to describe how I feel.
Hi Guys!
So...sorry for the Debbie Downer introductory Blog. Contrary to popular belief- I'm not suicidal. I haven't even listened to a Jeff Buckley song! I'm going to be OK, I know that. And the brutal honesty and self deprecation is merely a means to a smaller pair of thighs! So no worries! I've downloaded some new British Pop to my ipod, started a food journal (to write down all of thehorrible healthy things I am eating) and I took Tricky's (my dearest best friend whom I've never actually met...I'll explain later) advice and am seriously considering finding a couch where I can sit and spill my guts once a week. Tomorrow is also payday and I am going to go on Amazon.com and buy "Women, Food, and God" by Geneen Roth. Or maybe not since I just looked it up on Itunes and I could listen to it and cry in the privacy of my own car...hmmm decisions.
I tried to buy the new US Weekly with Bethenny Frankel on the cover. Her size -0 Self divulging her own battle with compulsive eating. I told myself, "I am gonna sit down with my husband, this cheesesteak, and Bethenny and get right!". But the Woodbury CVS didn't have the new US Weekly. Pigs.
They did, however, have a line out the door and one infant on the register as usual. I hate our CVS. HATE. But that's another blog entirely.
I have my first meeting with my Health Coach, Debbie in a week and a half. So that means I have about 10 days to see just how much food I can fit in my gullet? Well that's how I see it sometimes but hopefully that's not how it goes. Seriously though, I am very excited and cautiously optimistic. I fully recognize that there's a part of me that hopes I walk into her office and as I step inside my thin, toned legs will step out of the fat suit I've been living in. Or, I imagine Debbie is going to hand me my progress journal and she will also hand over, "the secret". But the rational person that lives deep inside, buried under the carbs...well that person knows I've got some work to do. I'm wondering if it's the fear of "work" that's kept me overweight for so long. What many people fail to realize is that when you are literally addicted to food, it takes a lot of work and willpower to say "no" and make a better, healthier choice. When I dated the gay, heroin addict I would often scold myself for scolding him. If I think he should be able to put the needle down, shouldn't I be able to step away from the Pizza hut?!? You would think. But I haven't met a pizza I didn't really, really like yet.
I'm not sure what I am trying to suppress when I eat. And it's actually kind of scary what I may discover that it is. But I want to know what "fabulousness" could be under all of this too. So scary be damned. Lets go!
I gotta have faith....
XOJAC
Hi Guys!
So...sorry for the Debbie Downer introductory Blog. Contrary to popular belief- I'm not suicidal. I haven't even listened to a Jeff Buckley song! I'm going to be OK, I know that. And the brutal honesty and self deprecation is merely a means to a smaller pair of thighs! So no worries! I've downloaded some new British Pop to my ipod, started a food journal (to write down all of the
I tried to buy the new US Weekly with Bethenny Frankel on the cover. Her size -0 Self divulging her own battle with compulsive eating. I told myself, "I am gonna sit down with my husband, this cheesesteak, and Bethenny and get right!". But the Woodbury CVS didn't have the new US Weekly. Pigs.
They did, however, have a line out the door and one infant on the register as usual. I hate our CVS. HATE. But that's another blog entirely.
I have my first meeting with my Health Coach, Debbie in a week and a half. So that means I have about 10 days to see just how much food I can fit in my gullet? Well that's how I see it sometimes but hopefully that's not how it goes. Seriously though, I am very excited and cautiously optimistic. I fully recognize that there's a part of me that hopes I walk into her office and as I step inside my thin, toned legs will step out of the fat suit I've been living in. Or, I imagine Debbie is going to hand me my progress journal and she will also hand over, "the secret". But the rational person that lives deep inside, buried under the carbs...well that person knows I've got some work to do. I'm wondering if it's the fear of "work" that's kept me overweight for so long. What many people fail to realize is that when you are literally addicted to food, it takes a lot of work and willpower to say "no" and make a better, healthier choice. When I dated the gay, heroin addict I would often scold myself for scolding him. If I think he should be able to put the needle down, shouldn't I be able to step away from the Pizza hut?!? You would think. But I haven't met a pizza I didn't really, really like yet.
I'm not sure what I am trying to suppress when I eat. And it's actually kind of scary what I may discover that it is. But I want to know what "fabulousness" could be under all of this too. So scary be damned. Lets go!
I gotta have faith....
XOJAC
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Stuck in the Scared, An Introduction
Let me start off with an apology. It could be one of many, or hopefully one of my last. You see, I'd like to apologize in advance for the mess you're about to witness when you encounter me. I'm pretty sure I will offend you. Maybe with what I say, how I look, or just my voice in general ...I don't know. But it will probably happen and so I like to be as generous a hostess as possible and apologize before I swallow you into my world. So... I'm sorry.
Moving on....
Here I am. Back to blogging. I can't really tell you why I'm here except to say that it's 50% about accountability. Now my story, my intentions (whatever they may be- I sure as hell don't know), my failures will all be here in print and I have witnesses. As C.C. Bloom said, "It will keep you honest". Here's hoping!
I've always been "heavy"- a girl who really loved her food from a young age. And those closest to me from a young age, assured me I had my reasons for eating everything I saw. My parents were divorced, we had no money, I had no relationship with my Dad, we lost our home...I could go on and on. Basically, "Jaclyn, if anyone has a reason to eat their feelings, it's you, Sweetie!". And, I always believed it. Because life's just a whole lot easier when there's something or someone to blame, right!? Over the years, of course, I've added to the list, I'm getting my period- I NEED a cheeseburger, my cat died,My Grandfather died, I can't get into that school, I can't do math, my boyfriend is a gay heroin addict (swear to God), I'm single, I'm broke, I was raped, I am moving back to New Jersey. Clearly, I did have my reasons. Some of them were even pretty damn good.
But lots of things have changed, some even for the better. PHEW! Almost a year ago my Dad and I mended our broken relationship, a 20+ year silence ended between my Dad and my older brothers, and in August of 2009 I met the love of my life, who almost a year later asked me to marry him. Two months ago we did just that and it was perfect. But can I tell you what my greatest anxiety of that entire day was??? That I wouldn't look good. That no pictures would come back where my arms looked "normal" or my double chin wasn't properly concealed. I wouldn't look good and everyone would think, "it's a shame she's so heavy". On one hand I suppose that's one of the better concerns to have on your wedding day. I remembered the marriage certificate and I was 150% sure I wanted to marry Mark. But arms, chins, spanx....this is the stuff my nightmares were made of.
And it's always been that way. I would rather not confront someone who has wronged me simply because my greatest fear is they would turn around and hit me with, "Well at least I'm not a fat slob". This is truly how my mind works. But damn if I have ever really committed to changing it for more than a week. And that is where my entire soul has seemed to turn into a question mark. WHY WON'T I CHANGE IT?! Somethings not working for you, you change, right? I suppose, if you're healthy and normal.
I hate the body I'm in. I hate how I feel, how I look. I hate the discomfort I feel walking, laying down, living. Some days I hate being awake. Which is only made worse when I consider how much I love my Husband, how I cannot stand to be away from him but how ashamed I feel of myself, of the shitty version of a Wife and Partner that I am and that I only continue to spiral further out of control. Drowning myself in a carton of Breyers while he takes our Daughter home. Lying that I didn't eat dinner yet when I already devoured a Big Mac in the car. This is my truth. My awful, embarrassing truth. None of my tragic, previously mentioned reasons change the fact that as of this morning I weigh 175lbs. There that is. Perhaps the biggest, most important sentence I could write. That's what I weigh, folks. And for me- it's just not working out. But there it is. Now you know. Now I know you know. I don't know what I'm trying to drown. I don't know who I am afraid of being. But I've got to get out of this and come up for air.
And let me be clear: My weight, my body, my life, these things do not work for me. I believe health, happiness and wholeness come in all shapes and sizes. I'm making a choice to write about my journey. You can read it, but you don't have to. But I do. I have to write it, read it, live it. I am stuck in the scared, terrified and desperately sick of crying. I want more for me. I want to get dressed in the morning without worrying about what I need to hide. I want to feel well. I want to know, not wonder and that applies to so many things.
I want more for my life with my Husband. I want more.
I have sought out a nutrition and health Coach. I am starting this blog. I am trying to be present in my thoughts and feelings and not bury them with food. It's hard and I will be honest when I fail and pray for the strength and support to succeed.
I gotta have faith....
XOJac
Moving on....
Here I am. Back to blogging. I can't really tell you why I'm here except to say that it's 50% about accountability. Now my story, my intentions (whatever they may be- I sure as hell don't know), my failures will all be here in print and I have witnesses. As C.C. Bloom said, "It will keep you honest". Here's hoping!
I've always been "heavy"- a girl who really loved her food from a young age. And those closest to me from a young age, assured me I had my reasons for eating everything I saw. My parents were divorced, we had no money, I had no relationship with my Dad, we lost our home...I could go on and on. Basically, "Jaclyn, if anyone has a reason to eat their feelings, it's you, Sweetie!". And, I always believed it. Because life's just a whole lot easier when there's something or someone to blame, right!? Over the years, of course, I've added to the list, I'm getting my period- I NEED a cheeseburger, my cat died,My Grandfather died, I can't get into that school, I can't do math, my boyfriend is a gay heroin addict (swear to God), I'm single, I'm broke, I was raped, I am moving back to New Jersey. Clearly, I did have my reasons. Some of them were even pretty damn good.
But lots of things have changed, some even for the better. PHEW! Almost a year ago my Dad and I mended our broken relationship, a 20+ year silence ended between my Dad and my older brothers, and in August of 2009 I met the love of my life, who almost a year later asked me to marry him. Two months ago we did just that and it was perfect. But can I tell you what my greatest anxiety of that entire day was??? That I wouldn't look good. That no pictures would come back where my arms looked "normal" or my double chin wasn't properly concealed. I wouldn't look good and everyone would think, "it's a shame she's so heavy". On one hand I suppose that's one of the better concerns to have on your wedding day. I remembered the marriage certificate and I was 150% sure I wanted to marry Mark. But arms, chins, spanx....this is the stuff my nightmares were made of.
And it's always been that way. I would rather not confront someone who has wronged me simply because my greatest fear is they would turn around and hit me with, "Well at least I'm not a fat slob". This is truly how my mind works. But damn if I have ever really committed to changing it for more than a week. And that is where my entire soul has seemed to turn into a question mark. WHY WON'T I CHANGE IT?! Somethings not working for you, you change, right? I suppose, if you're healthy and normal.
I hate the body I'm in. I hate how I feel, how I look. I hate the discomfort I feel walking, laying down, living. Some days I hate being awake. Which is only made worse when I consider how much I love my Husband, how I cannot stand to be away from him but how ashamed I feel of myself, of the shitty version of a Wife and Partner that I am and that I only continue to spiral further out of control. Drowning myself in a carton of Breyers while he takes our Daughter home. Lying that I didn't eat dinner yet when I already devoured a Big Mac in the car. This is my truth. My awful, embarrassing truth. None of my tragic, previously mentioned reasons change the fact that as of this morning I weigh 175lbs. There that is. Perhaps the biggest, most important sentence I could write. That's what I weigh, folks. And for me- it's just not working out. But there it is. Now you know. Now I know you know. I don't know what I'm trying to drown. I don't know who I am afraid of being. But I've got to get out of this and come up for air.
And let me be clear: My weight, my body, my life, these things do not work for me. I believe health, happiness and wholeness come in all shapes and sizes. I'm making a choice to write about my journey. You can read it, but you don't have to. But I do. I have to write it, read it, live it. I am stuck in the scared, terrified and desperately sick of crying. I want more for me. I want to get dressed in the morning without worrying about what I need to hide. I want to feel well. I want to know, not wonder and that applies to so many things.
I want more for my life with my Husband. I want more.
I have sought out a nutrition and health Coach. I am starting this blog. I am trying to be present in my thoughts and feelings and not bury them with food. It's hard and I will be honest when I fail and pray for the strength and support to succeed.
I gotta have faith....
XOJac
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