Starting this journey with broken suitcases.

Hi.  This is me.  Too much for some...not enough for others.  Love my family and hate myself.  Not thin enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough.  Not enough.

But am I?

I have a loving husband, 2 amazing kiddos, and 2 amazing dogs that think I’m pretty great.  I should be grateful!  Yes, GRATEFUL to be alive in this 2020 pandemic “situation” we’re in.  But I’m not.  I’m sad.  I’m lost.  I feel unfulfilled.

Let me start at the beginning of all this self-loathing...

I’ve always felt “not good enough.”  I’m book smart...but common sense?  Yeah...no.  I played sports, danced, cheered, sang, played instruments, toured countries, and yet...not good enough.  What’s missing?  I don’t know... but people can read it all over my face.  “Hey, you ok?” “Hey, you look upset.”  “Hey...what’s wrong?” I just want to yell “I DON’T KNOW, OK?!?  I. Just. Don’t. Know.”  I’m a mess...constantly.

The one thing that’s always driven me to insanity...my weight.  A never ending, always losing battle that I don’t EVER stop thinking about.  EVER.  I’ve gone to therapy about it.  Gotten treatment for it.  Gone to doctors for it.  I’ve lost, I’ve gained, I’ve lost again, I’ve gained again...I fret about it constantly.  My husband helps me cut the tags out of my clothing to not “trigger” (GOD, I HATE THAT WORD.) me.  But, I’m “triggered” constantly to the point of madness.  I have horrible posture because I just feel big in my space.  My latest trigger...I “fell off the wagon” and gained all the weight I lost in the beginning of the year back.  Thanks, COVID.  Thank you for robbing me of my motivation, my sanity, and most of all of my relationships with people.

This is all over the place...but here it is...like luggage you throw on the floor when you get home after a long vacation...the suitcases are broken open and here’s where you see the real me.  Here’s where I start, and this blog will be me cleaning up and organizing my mess.

This is how I plan to work on myself for 2021, raw and unfiltered.  If you’re still my friend after all of this, God Bless You.  If you’re not, I understand...everyone’s got their own shit going on and tend to it...God Bless, no hard feelings.  But understand this, if you invite me places and I say no...PLEASE KEEP ASKING ME.  My anxiety and depression are assholes that tell me constantly that you just feel sorry for me that’s why you invite me places and that’s why I decline.  Invite me...I will come eventually.  

And I promise to leave my broken suitcases at home.  

And 2021 is also where I promise to leave my broken suitcases behind. Lord willing.