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The Road Travelled

19 Oct

I have been in a plateau lately with weight loss and I am needing to find a new routine for the colder weather. I have started yoga, as you know and I love it…..but my body needs something more than that. Bike rides to work once or twice a week and an everyday walk to pick up the kids at school.  I am needing more and with the weather change, it’s a little more difficult to get out of the comfy clothes and from under the cozy blanket to get my ass up and move! This is the time to motivate myself. This is the time to not get complacent and “decide” it’s okay to take a break….nooooo….Hell No. I didn’t come this far to just sit on my ass now. This is a daily thing. This self talk. I have created a new person from the inside out…Wait….I have found my true self and she is not someone who just sits on the sidelines and watches….she is in it!

So, in another way to motivate myself, I have decided to share my weight loss journey with you, not just with words,  but with pictures. It makes it more real when the photos are not just for me. This is a difficult thing to do, I know judgements happen when pictures come out, but it’s not really going to change my goal and my self love because someone judges me harshly. It would have crushed me a year ago, but now, I am real, alive and full of joy and love. Enjoy! The first picture is of me after I had lost 28 pounds. This was the first picture that was taken. The pictures will go in order from here.20170423_08501120170507_08461220170518_07071520170625_21033120170827_13064320171015_080753This last picture was taken maybe 3 days ago.

It has been a journey but it is not over yet. I have another 70 ish pounds to go. I started at 297 pounds in April and I hope to get to 150 pounds. I am not giving myself a time limit. I want to do this in a moderate and thoughtful healthy way. I am not in a race, I am looking for health, fitness and longevity.

I have started some courses now through the library and over the next year I will continue to do so. I am prepping myself for college and looking forward to another “chapter” or stepping stones to self realization, betterment and an overall benefit to myself and my family! There is no destination, my journey is my destination daily. My truth is right here, right now.

Everyone is someone great, even if they don’t know it! Finding your greatness is so amazing! I encourage everyone to do it!

Thanks for reading! Love you all❤


Hatred; The true struggle

19 Nov

I thought I had it good! I closed the business and thought, hey, I am going to be a stay at home mom. I am going to organize the house, make the kids breakfast every day, do all the housework, make all the dinners and take the kids everywhere they need to go. Well….its not that easy at all first of all, second, I had to really look into how our finances are! Not a good sitchyaysion! Behind payments on some things have to be made, outrageous utility bills needed to be payed, and I don’t have an income. Great. I can tell you that this Christmas is going to be pretty damn slim. So, I keep on, like I have to. I make out a budget for us and go to get a job. The first place I went, I went in without a resume to see just by chance that they needed someone. They hired me on the spot, and I was to go in the next day for an orientation. Well, looking through the pages the manager gave me, I saw that the busy time is on Saturday and Sundays. I had to do some figures, and I knew that this wouldn’t be worth it. I would start at minimum wage, which is something like $11.45 per hour and I would need child care for every shift she put me on Saturday and Sunday. Child care is $10 or more per hour for 2 children. I am damned if I am going to go to work for $1.45 per hour. Just ridiculous.

So, that was a bust. I start from before and really think about staying home. Then I start writing my life story. Not fun because of the memories I have to endure and relive. I got to the part about my early days at the babysitters. This is tough. It’s rough and hard to put down every single word. I have to phrase it like I am writing a story, not like I am writing for you. I have to word it differently, I can’t just write what is in my head at that particular moment. I should try, come to think of it. But, anyway, while I was writing about my early years at Janie’s, more memories came to me. The ones that have been repressed for ummmm…. say, 34 years. Wow….they hit me hard. Pardon my French, but it really fucking sucks. The feelings I have, I don’t even know how to manage them. I felt my face getting hotter, I know I was flushed. Alone, with a typewriter and paper, and I was blushing. I remembered some really nasty shit that he did and the way he hid it just makes my skin crawl. Ugh…. I feel nauseous. He would prey on me when I was playing in the basement, or watching tv in the basement. He could hear if someone was coming. Ugh, I want to vomit. What a piece of shit. I am riddled with rage, embarrassment, guilt and shame already, but now I have an unwavering feeling of utter hatred and disgust. I want to protect that little girl. I want to beat the shit out of the asshole who tried this with her before he got the chance. Who the hell did he think he was? Taking someone’s innocence like that, making  her into someone completely different without a second thought. And then I think, didn’t anyone see? Didn’t anyone notice something? Anything at all? Did my behaviour change? I know that I must have followed Janie around more after that. I remember not wanting to go downstairs when Mark was home. I remember, when he came home, I ran upstairs. Oh man, I just remembered some other things. Him, coaxing me down the stairs, and Janie had no idea. She would tell Mark to keep an eye on me when she was upstairs. Oh God. Here it is folks, a mental cap has been opened. I thought it was bad when I first remembered some of the memories….this. is. much. much. much. worse. These memories are lethal. I am so queasy right now. I keep thinking that the memories have to end somewhere, but they just keep going. I never ever ever wanted to be alone with him. A little girl, innocently watching Sesame Street and playing with her little chocolate baby doll (as Janie called it) and then, in looms the darkness, the face of evil plastered with an endearing face and a fake smile. The used car salesman who sells nothing but crap. Trust me. Come sit with me. Here, give me your hand….ugh…..its much much worse than that, but I will spare you.

I know he was a victim, I learned that earlier this year. It might seem bad of me, but I do not care one iota. I was a victim too. I didn’t do that shit to anybody. It really screwed with my head. I was petrified when I had my first baby. I thought, oh man, I hope I never do that, I won’t do that. I was so scared of myself, it was terrible. I never ever have had thoughts of that before. I was scared to bathe my son. I didn’t want to touch him in case it wasn’t right, or appropriate. I know, I am just a loving mother who wants the best for my kids and to love them, I shouldn’t be a first time mother and have these fears. I blame this all on Mark. He did this to me. I was scared. I know who I am and I know I would never ever touch anyone like that. I knew who I was then too…..but it scared the shit out of me that history would repeat itself, maybe because I have watched enough episodes of SVU to know that most molesters are what they are because it was done to them.

I hate him. My day went to shit because of him. I want him gone, out of my life. Out of my memories. He ruined perfectly good memories of me with his mother. I love her. She was a wonderful care giver, and he ruined everything. He made me scared when I was little, he made me scared of loving anyone, really, and opening myself to my husband. He made me scared of real love and intimacy. He made me scared to touch my baby, even to change his diaper and bathe him. He scared me when I had to talk to him daily while his mother was in the hospital, I didn’t want to talk to him. He is a snake in the grass. He has two faces. He hides his true self. He couldn’t even admit to me that he did anything wrong. He has never told me sorry for what he has done. And I doubt he ever will. He does not make me scared anymore, but I am scared of myself and all of the hateful feelings I have towards him and his oily self. I don’t want to hate him because I love his mother.

I love her and I don’t want her hurt. But, I hate him so much. I know she loves him and always will. I know she will always protect him, and I just can’t seem to face that.

Whew, now all of that, that is my true struggle. Day to day life sucks when you are broke, but it sucks so much harder when dealing with these freaking memories, and when storing all of this hatred.


What’s In There?

19 Oct

I am going to give you a look at what happens to a person (me) when they become fat. I wasn’t born this way. I was a mere 7 lbs when I was born. I was a cute blonde haired thin little girl. I only started on my weight gain journey after I had been molested. I think at 5 years old I started getting bigger. I can see it in the photos of myself when I was younger.

Alot of things have happened to me that I haven’t even scraped the surface in telling you. My biological father died 9 days before my first birthday, the pain that my mother feels over this keeps her from divulging any information about him in the first 20 years of my life.I  do not know his family.They don’t even know I exist.To this day, I have not seen his grave. Things happen in your mind when you feel incomplete, everyone who has been adopted can relate to this I think. Then I was molested between the ages of 3-5. My mother was in an accident which, at 5 years old I didn’t understand, except that she was hurt and my grandparents had to come and live with me for a while to take care of me. This caused some abandonment issues for me and within the first two weeks of her being gone, I had already peed my pants at school. This, is something that I do not blame her for. Ever. It is just something that happened in life, that had a ripple effect. During this whole time and it lasted about 10 years that I know of, I watched on as my cousin beat his sisters. He punched them in the face and gave them bloody lips and noses and black eyes. Their father and mother were abusive to each other as well. I remember going with my mother to pick up my cousins because my uncle was drunk and beating on my cousin because he thought she was her mother. There was alcoholism in this family too….not cool. I see my son get upset at seeing anyone being hurt or hearing his dad yell at something and he is in tears. Man, I can’t begin to think about the tough skin that I had to have already to witness all of this abuse.  About one year later, my grandmother, who I had grown very close to, had a heart attack. Everyone in my family was effected by this, not just me. I was very young though, and had gone through ALOT already. But wait, more is to come. So, after grandma’s heart attack or around the same time, my mom got a boyfriend who was a bit mean to me. I remember him hurting my face really bad, I hadnt washed it good enough and he took me into the washroom and wiped my face raw. It hurt and I was all red after that. Well, their relationship didnt last, and after he left, he saw me walking home from school and tried to get me to go with him, telling me that my mom told him to pick me up. I ran of course and didn’t go with him. I didn’t tell anyone ever about anything that happened or anything that I felt. Ever. It’s been locked up tight since this year. After that, when I was 8-9 I was in a very bad car accident which could have taken my life if the doctors hadn’t found my internal injuries. I was in the car with my two cousins and two friends. I can still produce the image of my cousin with her face in the dashboard and my  other cousin laying on top of her with her face in the windshield. It was not a good thing to see at the age of 9. I have not returned to the site of the accident since. Because of that, I had to learn how to clean my own wound by putting a tube into two holes in my stomach and pumping water into it and then putting a bandage back on. I cannot imagine my son having to do that. Torture. After that, my grandfather had a stroke and they had to move to town, my mother and I took on the taking care of my grandparents. When I was 10, I had to spend some nights at my babysitters again, and in that time, my molester started to visit me again at night. He came to me three times to prey on me. I told nobody. I said nothing, I pushed the feelings down and away. I was teased in high school for being fat. One nasty person would yell down the hallway at me and ask me “How much do you weigh this week Amy? 600 pounds?” and the bunch of people he was with would laugh and laugh at me. I felt nothing but hatred for him and I wanted to cry, but I kept walking past him like he said nothing. Another thing to push down and not feel. The teasing started with another person when I was as little as kindergarten. A boy would make fun of me and call me Miss Piggy every single day. School was torture. But I loved learning. After this, I had such a bad self esteem, I was worthless. I was defeated and beaten down. When I was 17 I got my first boyfriend. Which I lost everything to. I didn’t realize that he was a horrible person. I was getting attention and that is all that mattered. This person, raped me. My first time having sex, he raped me. I told him to stop, and he told me that I liked it. I didn’t know at the time I was raped. I do now. Sad. After that I lost about 125 pounds and gained some confidence. But not enough. This was the path for me, trusting everyone and getting beaten down every time. A whole list of men who mistreated me and abused me and never truly loved me like they say they did. Everything changed when I met Gord. But that is another story.

So, that is my story. Not in depth, there is alot of pain and alot of sorrow and sadness in my story, but this is where it changes. It’s like a switch went off in my head. I have spent the last 39 years being a victim, as someone who was full of shame and blame and self loathing. The next half of my life, I will be a survivor. I will be proud of all I have endured and overcome. I will no longer feel the sorrow and shame of that little girl, that teenager, that young adult. I will feel the pride of the woman that I am, that I have become and the woman who I have fought to see, and to be. I am finished with feeding my emotions. Now….I AM IN CHARGE!!! I am going to use my emotions to fuel my strength. I can see the future me, she is strong, full of life, healthy, happy and I can’t wait to meet her!

Better or Worse

25 Sep

No one’s life is easy, or perfect. Some have a worse hand in the cards of life, but we always cope, or we don’t. That is not an easy sentence. We all handle things differently, and there is no way to put all of us under one “umbrella” as it were.

I know, however what I was dealt. I don’t know what bestows my future, but I know that I will handle it. Even though these last 8 months, the time that I had realized what had happened to me in my past and then I had to accept it, wrap my head around it and learn how to deal with it, has been the utter worst of my life, I was comforted.

I was comforted by friends and some family. By those of you who read what I write and even just give me a little nod on facebook letting me know that you are there, that gives me strength. But the most strength that I get is from my life partner, my soul mate, my best friend, my husband. Man, did he ever walk in blind! Ha ha!!! When we fell in love and took the vows, we had no idea what we were in store for.

We met at work. He was a cook and I was a server. We brightened each other’s days. I would say hi to him first each day and then we would banter back and forth with trivia. I actually would memorize things from my Trivial Pursuit game just to keep the game going. We started dating and three months later, we moved in together. When you know, you know I guess. We had a rough start. Our house was toxic, whether you believe in these things or not, our house was very creepy and I woke up a couple of times seeing figures in the bedroom door. I “slipped” down the stairs about 7 times, and Gord would have disturbing thoughts while only in one room of the house. We fought here. It was not the ideal home to start a relationship in, but we stayed true to our love and faithfulness in each other. We were married after 2 years into our relationship, bought our own home and started our life.

We have gone through some tough times, we saw life come, we sadly saw life go, we grieved and had joy. We have always been honest with each other, we are each others best friend. And, this year has given us more challenges, but more strength and faith in each other. We trust.

Gord (my husband) did not know about my molestation or rape. He did not know of my anxiety and depression, until I couldn’t stand feeling that way anymore. I needed to let go and tell him. I needed medication, and I needed his approval. I didn’t really need his approval, but I wanted him to know what was going on with me and let him know the seriousness of my situation. He was concerned at first, but then I told him everything. I mean, all of it…..warts, skeletons, all of the unruly bits that nobody wants to disclose. I needed him to understand, to make things clear and for him to be sensitive to my actions and reactions. From this point on, I included him in every thought and feeling that I had.

I have gone through a little bit of therapy, some medication and a lot of crying. He has been there for me through all of it. There are some days that I want to stay in bed and cry or sleep and I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want any conversation, and he will be there, doing his work and reading. He is my strength. Partially my children, but I try not to let them see the true pain and anguish, so mostly it is my husband. My rock. The man who holds me up, who lets me cry, who will clean when I can’t, seriously, when I am in a bad way, he keeps the house running. He lets me think that I hold down the fort…..but its him.

I am very grateful to be married to such an amazing person. I would do the same for him, and at times, I have. Our bond will never be broken and I will always be indebted to him. His patience with me is something that any woman would be proud of. Maybe that is why I was so drawn to him. He was raised with his 4 older sisters. He knows more about dealing with females than most!

His dedication to my well being, and helping me every step of the way to get through the roughest days is worthy of admiration.

To those with this nasty disorder….or whatever you want to call it, let people in. Trust. Take the one person who you could go to with anything and let them in on your struggle. You would be surprised at the amount of support you will get. Thinking that everything is bad, is not what the truth of the situation is. There is always light, there is always someone who can help you, someone who makes it easier to cope. Luckily I married my someone.

My life is only better because of him.

Full Circle

6 Jul

So, I try to slow my roll, take it easy, soak up the sun and spend time with the kids, read and just chill. It’s easier said than done, that is for sure!

If I don’t panic about home or the kids, I panic about the bakery. We have a slower week, I panic, I owe money to someone, I panic! I guess it’s in my nature to panic! Worry and panic are my life right now! And then I think, if this gets done, then I will be okay, then there is something else to worry about. It’s a never ending roll of calm and worry. And, it’s easy to look at me or talk to me and think, she doesn’t seem that bad. But you are not in my head!

The little things do work for a while. The sun really helps me, and reading books helps tremendously as well. Projects work. I have had an ongoing project this summer with my front yard. Doing some landscaping and making it look fabulous, this gives me joy and a sense of accomplishment. I also get to spend time with my family when it is being done!

happyI was thinking yesterday….surprise surprise! And, I came to the conclusion that during the summer, I don’t really want to spend time worrying and dreading the housework. The summer is meant for outdoor activities and having fun with the kids. I decided to not worry about it, except for the laundry and the dishes. So, the kids stuff is in the living room….oh well….. keep calm, it’s their house too. It is very difficult to think this way. When I was in my darkest times, I didn’t care about anything, to put it bluntly, I couldn’t give two shits about the state of my house. I was just tired and couldn’t handle anything. I put blinders on to everything that I could not handle. Now, in the more recent times, I have started coming out of the darkness little by little and in that greyish area, I have started caring more about the state of my home. I spent 5 hours cleaning my childs room, I hate to see the mess that my hubby and kids made while I was at work and didn’t clean up! I mean, come on guys! There is still bits of cereal on the table from breakfast! Clean it up!!!! This is when my depression fades and my OCD starts kicking in! And as I write this I think.. Wow…. not much of a mess am I? circle

I just thought that I sound like someone who just cannot be pleased or happy in any state of mind that I am in! That is not true. The battle is all inside my head. I am just sharing with you everything that is usually locked up inside my cranium! Fun! There I go….worrying about others more than myself again! That is something else that the depression/anxiety manual does not tell you! In my case, I worry about others more than myself and spend all of my energy making sure others are happy! I listen to the music others like before I put something on that I like. I guard what I say and who I say it in front of for fear of being misunderstood or hurting someone and vigilant about other peoples feelings. I worry about saying the wrong thing in front of others and they taking it the wrong way and being hurt. I worry even at work when I come in to bake at 5-6 am and then leave at 1pm, does my staff think that I don’t work? Do they think I am lazy?

I really have to find myself again. In the middle of all of this worry and anxiety/depression stuff…. I have forgotten who I am and what I like and my opinions that I have. I have been asking myself lately, what kind of music do I really like? You know…. I don’t know anymore. What kind of movies and shows do I like? I don’t know anymore. What do I like to do in my spare time? Worry? I don’t know. I feel like I don’t have that time anymore. And if I spend it reading…..what else have I done? What else do I like to do? Wow…. it’s hard to know who I am right now. I hope it will come to me soon enough.

Damnit! Stupid brain! Freaking chemicals! UGH!!!

I am happy. I have a wonderful life with fabulous people in it. All this other crap, I need to maintain, I need to keep it  under control and manageable. I won’t let it eat me alive and hurt anyone.

Just letting you know, that it’s good to calm down and look around. I am going to try laying down outside at night and looking at the stars, I am going to try watching the wind whip  the leaves on the trees, keep slowing it down more and more. I want that joyous feeling, I want to feel that expressive joy and wonder like my kids do. I want to breathe. I need to keep telling myself that everything is okay. I have a roof, a family, friends, a business….what more do I need?

Now that my day of work has been done, what will I do with myself? Do the dishes and read a book. Maybe colour a bit and play the piano. Calm is what I need. It has to be a daily reminder to myself to breathe and be calm. It’s like a new habit that has to be formed. Like a daily affirmation! I know that sounds dorky, but it’s completely true! I am good enough, I am smart enough and God darnit, people like me! Ha Ha!

That is what I have to keep in mind. I am surrounded by people who support me, and whom I support in kind. We are all like a woven blanket, relying on the other stitch to support the next in line, and in the end, we keep someone who is cold, warm.

warI am thinking that this battle will never be won, but with constant supervision and vigilence, a war will be avoided. The tight jaw and lungs, are just the first warnings to something bigger to come. So, lots of sleep is needed and patience and time alone helps as well. Don’t be scared to open up. There are more people suffering silently with this than anyone knows! You could very well be saving someone who didn’t know they needed the help!

Enjoy the heat! Ugh!

The Reason Why

6 Nov

why question abstractI have thought about it, and I know some of my family and friends might wonder…”why do you blog? why do you share so many things?” and I have thought…. I should tell them!

I have a lot to be thankful for, I have struggles, ups and downs. Everyone does. Some of my struggles feel like I am going through them alone. Some things sound funny when I write my experience down! Simply, writing eases the tension, it takes a load off the weighed-down shoulders. I know, I could be journalling, and I still do, but I am always hoping that my blog will reach someone who is having a terrible day and lighten their load a little. I don’t think that I can make everyone happy, I am sure some people try to read what I write and click off the page immediately, but what matters is the one person. The mom that has had it up to her eyeballs with the kids and work and housework etc. She will see that she is not alone. I know, it sounds so cliche, but it is true! When you are having a down-in-the-dumpy day, if you know someone that has gone through it, it feels so much better.

I have a couple of reasons actually, I thought when I started this blog maybe 3 years ago, that I could grow my business this way…. good luck! But it really has become a passion for me, the fact that I let people into my life. I share what I want, I try not to hurt anyone, but I try to be as real and honest as I can without sharing too much.

My wonderful, awesome, cute, cuddly, husband

My wonderful, awesome, cute, cuddly, husband

My husband reads my blog. He tells me that he knows more about me after reading my blog than he can get just talking to me! My niece tells me that I sound smarter in my blog than in person! Ha! Figures.

I am  a people person, I have shared my blog on my facebook profile because I don’t mind if my neighbour or my aunt or my doctor’s secretary knows who I am. I am proud of who I am, and I don’t mind if others judge me. I am sure that some of my family has seen the posting about the troubles with my dad, and they want to say something, or they just want to judge me silently. I don’t mind. These people are my family. I love them no matter what they think of me. I am sure that they feel the same way. I love my parents, and everyone I have told you about during the life of my blog, if I didn’t, you wouldn’t know who they are! Simple.

There are a lot of reasons why people do what they do. I see a lot of things posted on facebook about what people ate or something they find funny, and they share a tiny bit of what they like or don’t like…but do we really know who they are? No. We know they find the dog on a rocking horse video funny or that they think that carving watermelons is fascinating. I think they are funny and fascinating as well, but I have more to say. I have more to share. People are curious, people want to know other people. Whether it be for gossip or concern, I have not seen anyone pass up getting information on another person. We are curious. I therefore, am an open book.
The real benefit for me is that I enjoy writing. I would love to write a book. My husband, bless him, has written more novels than I can count. I tried it once. I finished one chapter, and my mind went blank. What I wrote was decent, but I had no story plan and had no idea where to go after the first chapter. So, I write little poems (since I was a teenager) and I journal. I even tried writing songs. Now, I have found how I can write. It goes into the world, so every word posted is published via web immediately, and it is completely free! It does not get better than that!

I watched a documentary last night called HAPPY-POSTER-2happy it is about people finding their happiness and measuring happiness in people. I wondered, “am I really happy?”. I came to the conclusion, that if I did not have this personality of constant worry and taking on others emotions, I am superbly happy! I love my whole existence! My job is awesome, and the fact that I work with my best friend is even better…and she is my niece…there is a trifecta right there! Also, my family. Geez, the man who I chose for the rest of my life…we chose each other, but I feel like I picked him, took him home and he is mine! ha ha! I love him with everything I have. He is my true best friend! Then, the children! The little pieces of me and my husband put together to make a creation of its own! It’s completely awesome! They are so great, funny, and soooooo cute! My God! My love for them hurts me! Ha ha! Literally sometimes! Seriously, if you want to sit on my lap, don’t dig those little elbows into my stomache, they feel like little daggers! And my pets of course. Then my home. I thought for a while that we needed a bigger home. We always thought we needed more, bigger would make us happier, let us spread out….but then I thought, NO! If we get a bigger home, we have a bigger mortgage, higher taxes, more money for utilities and we are more spread out. We would have seperate rooms to do things. We would be seperated. I love my little house. It fits us perfectly. It needs work, and I love to improve things, and organize. My kids sometimes feel like they are right on top of me all the time, but why would I want to change that? They love to be around their parents. We are a close family. It is hard sometimes to get the kids to go play in their rooms. They would rather play in the living room together where they can see Gord and I. 082

My niece has explained to her children that my kids are different. They are with their parents all the time. They are always hugging and playing and talking, and they hardly ever get to play video games. I don’t mind her saying this at all. It is true. And I find it odd that it is “normal” now that kids are on a game system for hours at a time. Well, my kids play, read, and we play together.

We are not perfect by any means, but I have to say, I have it pretty darn good! Even though I bitch about things, it all works out! You would not read my blog if it was all sunshine and rainbows anyway!

My friend Kathy Milliken tells me to journal, it is healthy, it is a way of coping. She is my “person”, you know, that one person that you HAVE to go to see. The one that listens, I mean, she gets paid for it, but she is a genuine friend as well! Ha ha!