Poorly placed jealousy

Have you ever been jealous of something you have no reason to be jealous of? Logically it doesn't make sense for anyone to long for that thing? I have. I do. I struggle with misplaced jealousy all the time. Mostly for women who are deathly thin. I am jealous of their self-control. Their discipline and determination to not be fat, to conform, to look how society says they should. If I'm being completely honest here, which is my goal, then I must admit that as much as I'd like to say I'm happy with where I am and that I'd rather be a little overweight and healthy than thin and not, that's not the truth. I'd rather be unhealthy, sick even, if it meant being thin. When I try to pin down where all of these feelings started, I'm immediately drawn to my abuse as a child. When I was young, maybe 6, I had a male babysitter who watched me and my brother every Monday night, for about a year and a half. And during that time, he would take me into my room and sexually abuse me. I think that it has a direct affect on who I am and how I think and behave. Being so young, I didn't really understand the full meaning of what was happening. When I finally started going to meetings with my parents instead of staying home, they knew something was wrong and asked me why I wouldn't stay home. I remember them bribing me with Sleeping Beauty, my favorite Disney movie that we probably couldn't afford, to get me to talk to them. He was very good. He would say things to me like, if you tell anyone, we won't be friends anymore, which to a six year old is like the death sentence. Friends are all you want at that age. I told them, and that was that. No court, no police report, just, no more contact with him or his family. I didn't understand the severity of the issue, or realize that something sacred was taken away from me until I was much older. It wasn't something we ever spoke of. For all the good things my parents do and are for me, because I love them dearly and am blessed with a caring and loving family, they don't like to speak about serious issues. When I told them about my cutting and eating issues in high school, my mother got angry with me because 'I must've learned that behavior somewhere' and my father didn't really react. And we never spoke of it again. I think a lot of my issues have had to do with not being able to speak. And for a while I really resented my parents for not taking him to court, until I realized they were trying to protect me from more horrible memories as a child. They did the best they would with what they had at the time, and I appreciate it. However, I believe that the majority of my issues of self-image and self-worth and self-esteem stem from that experience. Which of course, lead to longing for things I shouldn't, and logically know are ridiculous, like looking like this:


I know its ridiculous. I know its unhealthy. I'm just jealous that they can control themselves in ways that I cannot. I used to be able to. There was a day when this was me. And now I'm heavier than I have ever been in my life. I don't have a happy, healthy medium. I am one extreme or the other.

I want to stop. I want to be happy with who I am, and with who God made me, and confide in Him for the help and motivation to take care of myself, the right way. Sometimes it is an overwhelming feeling of loss of control. I don't want to be jealous of these girls anymore. I know men who look at ultra-thin women like them and are instantly repulsed. They say they enjoy women who look healthy, who are more heavy than more thin. However, pornography and films show that the majority of men do not feel that way. I don't want to be of the world anymore, I just don't know how not to be.

Its time to get it all out

Has there ever been anything in your life that you thought, 'There's no way this can have this much affect on me without it staying in my life forever'? I know that's a disjointed sentence, but I'm not sure how else to say it. Music is like that for me. Strings, especially, however of all the things I learned, I never got to learn the cello like I wanted. I played a plethora of instruments my public school days. I started on piano at 3(ish). Then clarinet, then trombone. Followed by flute, piccolo, alto sax, bari sax, soprano sax, bassoon, oboe, guitar, timpani, marimba/xylophone/vibraphone, and an assortment of percussion instruments i.e. triangle, maracas, tambourine, etc. Since I sum up the three keyboard percussion instruments as one (because lets face it, when you learn how to use mallets, you can play all 3) that's a total of 13 instruments. Half of which I taught myself. AND I played all of them in a performance. That's it though. That's where my bragging rights end. I am officially the girl that peaked in high school. It was a safety net.

Don't get me wrong, I was a mess in high school. I was trying my very best to be as anorexic and/or bulemic as possible, and initially I was marginally successful at both. In the end, I was incredibly successful. I wasn't even that heavy, as most of those stories go. At this point I was probably 5'5 and maybe 120 pounds, which according to any weight chart, and any frame size, is small. I was surrounded by friends who were 4+ inches shorter than me, and I wondered why I couldn't be as thin as them. It got worse as I discovered self-mutiliation...i.e. cutting. I know initially it was for attention - its not like I was ignored at my home, but I was in the shadow of an older, much more talented brother that I made worse than it actually was. However, after I got started, it became an addiction to me. All of it. Counting calories. Purging whatever I did eat. Pretending to eat. Hiding my food. As an adult I've tried to look back and say, nah I wasn't that bad. But in reality I was a lot worse than I think I ever intended to be. I started cutting in about October of my sophomore year of high school. When I joined drumline, I knew no one. I was asked by the pit instructor to join and play timpani. I don't know how he knew who I was, maybe because my brother was in drumline before me. In drumline I made a few friends, and, with no amount of luck and all because of God's love for me, became close with two people who had more faith than anyone I had ever met. They became the best friends I could've asked for. We were inseparable for 2 years. They both realized I had a problem after our first trip out of town. I wasn't very good at hiding my anorexia and bulemia. I rarely ate, and when it was necessary, I immediately went to the bathroom after. It was pretty pathetic. I was disgusted with myself, but I couldn't stop. I ended up lying to my parents and going to a Baptist church with William, because my father grew up Catholic and would've popped a blood vessel. However, in hindsight I should've known it'd be just as dangerous to lie to him about it. In any case, going to church really helped me. And when I got caught lying, my parents realized that I could've been lying about drinking or doing drugs or having sex (which I didn't do at all in high school) and they let me explore my faith, within reason. I ended up going to a Lutheran church that the assistant band/choir director and his wife attended, and found a wonderful family and faith there. Some of my best friendships came out of the darkest time in my life. I got help with my addictions, because at that point, that's what they had become. Obsessions. Mountains in my path of life. I became a new person. I was happy. I was passionate. I was capable of anything. I became more involved in writing. In playing music. In learning. I was happiest in my life when I was surrounded by and enveloped in my faith, my God. I yearn for those days. That is my weakness. I look back and long for those relationships. I am in the present, wishing for the past, and preventing my future. I digress.

The whole point of this was to say that I know that I'm not using any of my talents. I am not even sure what my talents are anymore. I enjoy writing. Photography. Singing. I don't play any instruments anymore. Occasionally I'll play the piano at my parents' house, but my guitar sits it my 'guest room' and collects dust. It comes out for Christmas when we do carol nights, but that's really it. What does God want me to do? Does He really think that sitting in a cube all day with people who treat me as inferior and incapable is where I will be best used? I use a fraction of brain power for this job. Granted, it is easy money, but I am not challenged. I'm not making any difference. I'm not using anything that God has blessed me with in my daily living. I spend 40 hours a week in a place that takes me for granted. However, I'm locked into it with the amount of bills that I have to pay at this moment in my life. I feel stuck. I feel like my body could just burst apart with frustration, anguish, irritation, and sadness. I'm 24 years old and have nothing to show for my life. I just want to cry. Heave sobs, cry so heavily it hurts. I am tired of being strong. Of keeping the facade, of making sure that I am always happy so I don't irritate someone else. Have you ever just wanted to crumble?

I just want to crumble.

On the surface

Looking through people's blogs I find that my blog name is neither creative nor witty. Which isn't necessarily an accurate reflection of me, because I usually try to (and succeed at) being creative and witty. Sometimes at the same time. It makes me wonder, if I had a catchier blog name, would people actually read what I'm writing? And if people actually read what I'm writing, will it be beneficial to them? Will they be able to relate? We live in such a self-consumed world now anyway that I don't want this blog to be another narcissistic venue in my life. I enjoy writing. It is a way to be who I am. To look back at times in my life when I was broken, sad, happy, in love, angry, and to see how I have grown. As a person, and as a writer. Not that I think I'm an incredible writer now. But I'm light-years ahead of where I was. And yes, I just made that reference. Keep your grumbles to a minimum, it seemed appropriate.

Has there ever been a time in your life where you knew that no one in your social circle knew everything about you? I am having one of those times in my life. I know that of all the people that I know, no one knows the seriousness of my financial state. Or my mental self-loathing. People may have a general idea that I'm struggling with money, and most people know I'm unhappy with my appearance. The only one I can cry out to in complete honesty is God. I've had moments in my life like this before, and tried to do it alone. It is impossible. It became such a burden for me to carry, I broke under the pressure. I fell back into sin, into casual sex and binge drinking. Looking, scrambling for any sort of acceptance, of acknowledgment that I was worth something, and finding falseness everywhere I looked. I knew where to go to find peace, and I didn't. I was stubborn, foolish, prideful, arrogant, all of the above. I didn't want to admit that I was wrong, that I couldn't do it on my own, and take responsibility for all of the brokenness I created.

I have two cats. Their names are Lily and Nico. (Trust me, this has relevance I swear.) Nico is my small, spry, black, stealth ninja cat. She slinks around the house and sneaks up on me when I least expect it. Hops on the back of the couch, the kitchen counter, even opens the door to the bathroom. She's a ninja, I mean it. She has her moments, usually right when I get home and when I go to bed, when she wants attention. But normally she's ok on her own. Lily is my big, overweight, lazy, cute cuddly cat. She will take love from anyone. She has a habit of sleeping on her back with her legs splayed awkwardly that makes company question her sanity. Its ok, she does that all the time. On occasion, I'll be at home with my laptop, lying on the couch reading or writing, and she will jump onto my chest out of nowhere. She will nuzzle up under my arms, forcing my computer back, and rub her head against my face. If I get a phone call or text message and try to respond, she interferes. Basically makes me stop everything that I'm doing and pay attention to her. Its cute, and I appreciate the love, but sometimes its incredibly inconvenient.

Sometimes I think God is like that. At some point, He starts to pull at your heart, and eventually He gets right in your face and says something like 'Hey, I'm here. I've been waiting for you to come back to Me, and I think now is a good time for you to stop what you're doing and pay attention.' That happened last night, in regards to my previous post. After I read that and posted, Lily got cuddly and made me put my computer down. I thought to myself, well if that's not the biggest sign to take some quiet time and listen to God, I don't know what is. I can't describe what I felt last night. Immense pressure on my chest and an uncontrollable stream of tears. No, it wasn't a heart attack, or Lily. It wasn't an uncomfortable pressure, just a sensation of ease, even in the throes of breaking apart at the seams.

I don't know what the point of all this is. I just plan on continuing to listen, to learn, to grow, and live in His grace. I know I will never be the person I'm supposed to be without His help. Its getting over myself to ask that will continue to be the struggle.

The Mirror of God

And just when I was going to bed, when I thought my day was over, I read a friends blog, and this is what she had posted for the day.

From the book “Who Calls Me Beautiful?”

Before the beginning of time, I knew you. I knew what color your eyes would be, and I could hear the sound of your laughter. Like a proud father who carries a picture of his daughter, I carried the image of you in My eyes, for you were created in My image. Before the beginning of time, I chose you. I spoke your name into the heavens, and I smiled as its melody resounded off the walls of My heart.

You are Mine. My love for you extends farther than the stars in the sky and deeper than any ocean. You are My pearl of great price, the one for whom I gave everything. I cradle you in the palm of My hand. I love you even in the face of your failure. Nothing you say or do can cause Me to stop loving you. I am relentless in My pursuit of you. Run from Me - I will love you. Spurn Me - I will love you. Reject yourself - I will love you. You see, My love for you was slain before the foundations of the world and I have never regretted the sacrifice I made for you at Calvary.

When I see every part of who you are, I marvel at the work of My hands, for I whispered words of longing and desire and you came into existence. You are beautiful, and I take pleasure in you - heart, mind, and body. You are My desire. When you turn your head in shame and despise what I have made, still I reach for you with gentle passion. You are My beloved and I am yours.

I haven't cried, felt God pressing on my heart, as much as in that moment. He wanted me to see how silly my previous post was. How could I think He would not forgive me? To see it put the way it was put above, about how much care and time and love was taken to create me, as much as I may hate myself, I'm hating what God created, and even in that, He still loves me. That's the most impacting line to me, because I do it every day.

When you turn your head in shame and despise what I have made, still I reach for you with gentle passion. You are My beloved and I am yours.

Who am I to question what God has made? I can take care of it a little better, maybe love it a little more, but not hate it. Because God made me. I am already His Beloved. What more could I ever ask for?

For who I am

How many times have you thought to yourself...If only they could see who I really am, they wouldn't *insert whatever statement here*. For example:

If only they could see who I really am, they wouldn't laugh. They wouldn't underestimate. They would be attracted to me. They'd understand my potential.

Well who or what is keeping them from seeing the real you? And what are you doing to change that?

I have to call myself out on that on a regular basis. First I have to figure out who the real me is. I'm good at being a variety of fake mes. But I don't think I have known who the real me is, ever. It'd be nice to find out. I'm trying. My relationship with God is awkward at best. Something about that whole unworthy of His love and grace thing that I can't get past. How about the 'I know I'm going to be a constant disappointment' excuse? I use that one constantly. I haven't had a genuine talent since high school. I'm not one to be a negative gal. I enjoy life and being happy. That is true. However, looking at my life right now I don't see myself succeeding at much of anything.

If they could see who I really am, they'd have their assumptions confirmed, and then where would we be?

Flying oustide the merry-go-round

In life God doesn't give you the people you want. Instead, He gives you the people you need. To teach you, to hurt you, to love you, and to make you exactly who you are meant to be. I love that quote.

So maybe, through this difficult portion of my life, I will learn to trust fewer people but trust more, love fewer people but love more, and be grateful for the people I have in my life. Maybe I'll learn that things are not always what they seem, that words can get in the way of how I really feel, that the most important things in life aren't things, and, that I deserve respect and support from my friends just as much as the next guy. That I should have the opportunity to be myself, no questions asked. Maybe I'll learn to just let go.

Maybe...

For now I am still flying outside the merry-go-round, gripping my fingers around the bar, white-knuckled, clinging to the past I once loved and felt safe in, afraid to let go and see what the future has in store for me. Maybe I'll land in the sand, unscathed, a little dirty, but capable of picking myself up and brushing off the dust. Maybe it will be the ground, hard and spongy at the same time, a little more damaging, a few bumps and bruises, but no open wounds. I'll get up and walk the soreness off, and remember how much it hurt and not go back. Even still, I could land hard on the concrete. Scrape my body up, bleed, and cry in pain. But even in the worst case, even with open wounds for everyone to see, wounds heal. In time, everything heals. I've started to let the grip slip just a bit, and reluctantly but obviously take steps forward. But this I know for sure: even without landing on the concrete, the scars of this moment in my life will last forever. And those scars will be a blessing and a curse. A blessing in showing me I had the courage to let go, but a curse in reminding me what I had to let go of.

Falling Back

I find myself falling into the same feelings I've fallen back into so many times before. I realize that now, which is progress, when before I would deny it. Seeing how long I can go between meals. Being satisfied that my stomach is grumbling and I still keep from filling it. Counting every calorie. Filling myself with water, unsweetened tea, black coffee and diet soda. Zero calories. Full stomach. My weight is at an all time high. I yo-yo back and forth between binge eating because I'm stressed or confused about life, and then micromanaging my food and nearly starving myself to gain control of an otherwise 'out of control' situation, whether it really is, or that is my perception does not matter. I have a man in my life who is amazing. He is understanding, and supportive, and determined to show me how confident and beautiful and intelligent I am without worrying about the number on a scale. No one knows the extent of my relapse. I don't really count it as a relapse anyway, because I am still eating. My worst day was Friday. I had a quarter of a chicken enchilada around 4:30. Diet coke, coffee, water, wine, and a snifter of Jack Daniels at a buddy's house. I'm trying to figure it out and come back to normalcy with it. However, its really easy to rejoice in the wrong things.

I know what I need to do, and logically I know what I'm doing makes absolutely no sense. However, my finances are spinning out of control, my weight is already out of control, I'm head over heels for a man in my life who I know shares my affection but is moving, and doesn't know when, which means the relationship aspect is out of my control, I want to quit smoking but it will make me gain more weight, I hate my job but need the money, so I cannot change, and for all those things, I panic and think, well fine. I'm going to get some semblance of control and order back in my life. How? Food. I think just getting all of this out helps. It makes me realize that what I'm doing is ridiculous, and there are better, healthier ways to deal with my issues. I just don't know how to go about doing them.

I went to church and, ironically enough, after reading http://stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com all week last week, service was about the Prodigal's Son. Pretty incredible. I've tried talking to God more, but I feel awkward. I know He's not laughing at me or judging me, but I feel like if I were Him I would be. Which is why He's so amazing, and I cannot grasp his immense love and grace. I'm struggling, I guess is what I'm saying. I put on a good front, and yes, there are lots of things in my life that are good. But there are a lot of things in my life that could be better also.

Unsure

I'm not exactly sure what the point of this blog will be. I just know that I struggle with a lot of things I'm sure other people struggle with as well. And maybe if I voice what I'm dealing with, people will be able to relate, and just maybe we'll be able to learn from each other.

I realize more now than ever that I am an extremely jealous person. Jealous of my brother and his success, of my mother and her weight loss, my father and his education, of all my friends who are thinner than I am, by no fault of their own, and who have done nothing wrong to me, of any woman who speaks to any man that I may be interested in, or any woman that any man I may be interested in speaks to, of people who love their jobs, of people who have lost weight, who have no money troubles, who are engaged/married/having babies...I think that sums up pretty much everyone in my life. Its not fair of me to feel that way towards them, they're just doing what they should. I am the one to blame for my lack of motivation to finish school, find a better career, lose weight, take control of my money, etc.

I feel like right now, in my life, God is waving a big red flag at me saying HEY! Hey I'm still here, I'm loving you and waiting for you to come back to Me. Once you do, you know things will steadily get better, because I will be with you, and I will take care of you. All you have to do is come back.

My foolish sinful pride isn't the only thing keeping me from returning to Him and accepting His forgiveness, but its a huge part. Shame, fear, embarrassment, all unfounded because God doesn't keep a scorecard. Unfathomable to me that He can forgive me time and again for the mistakes I've made repeatedly. Its like the 'beating a dead horse' analogy, which is quite grotesque if you think about it, however it fits here. How many times am I going to be forgiven for the same things before God comes back and says nope, you used up your last chance. Nice try, we'll see you later. The amazing part is, I know He will never say that. I just have to get over myself and admit that I have been wrong, I have messed up, take responsibility for my actions, and acknowledge that I am incapable of handling things on my own. That takes humility, and until recently I have been unwilling or unable to humble myself. I find now that humility is grace, its cloaked sure, but its there. How bout a healthy dose of humility today?