Lady Links, This is a Woman

Lady Links! 11.8!

Thank you for being patient with me both in my extreme emoness and in the fact that I, like, totally forgot to throw an entry up last week. In my defense I wound up in urgent care that day with four prescriptions, including one for an inhaler because I have this STUPID COUGH.

Over all I am feeling much more emotionally stable, at least for the moment, but my goodness Life is just relentless, isn’t it? Between this cough and my ladybits issues (someday I will find time to write an update) I feel like I’m at least 100. I bought a new exercise bike as part of my Get!Happy! plan (phase two is to afford a dishwasher somehow) and I haven’t even had the lung capacity to use it yet. I am beyond ready to get back to a healthier place in my life, but my body isn’t quite there, yet. So frustrating.

Why, yes, I do believe I am going to be one of those old ladies who complains about every single body ache. In fact, I believe I already am.

So thank you for the kind words and support two weeks ago. You have no idea how much it helped me.

Onto the Lady Links! Have a motivational poster I designed myself!

something motivational

~TIAW on Pinterest and Tumblr.

~This is a really important talk on TED. It’s like 15 minutes long, but seriously. So. Worth it. It questions whether overweight is the cause of diabetes as current medical theory holds, or whether we might be finding out that it’s actually a normal physiological reaction to insulin-resistance. In other words, maybe fat people aren’t just lazy after all. Maybe their bodies are actually incredibly wise and doing something that needs to be done to protect them from this condition they have. Who would have thought? Oh right. Probably you. But the talk is also incredibly moving and the doctor giving it admits his previous errors in assuming certain things. And I’m a sucker for people being, like, mature n shit.
~”You know what’s not good for our mental health? Shame and hatred. So if you’re really worried about someone’s health, harassing them about their weight is not helping. Quite the opposite.” <-- From this post.
~Plus-sized models that are actually plus-sized. Lovely!
~Here’s another TED talk – this one came from my sexuality class last week. It’s given by a model who acknowledges the superficial side of the industry and who speaks frankly about her experiences and privilege.
~”The goal of this song is to reduce shame and embarrassment that women feel regarding their time of the month.” Also this song? Quite cute.

This is a Woman

Size is Irrelevant. Love is Real.

I read a comment tonight where a woman lamented the fact that she will never be skinny. And I wanted to tell her, “So let that desire go. If you know right now with 100% positivity that you will never be skinny, let that desire just go all the way. Now that it’s gone you can stop and think about what you want most from your life. A satisfying career? To raise children? To focus on your personal growth? To travel the world? At the end of your life, where do you want to have been?”

A year or so ago I was having a conversation with a friend who was frustrated with her weight. I was reminding her that size is the least important measure of actual health but she kept throwing excuses my way, trying to dodge my actual logic with things like, “But this isn’t the size I know I can be.” And I wanted to say, “OK. But what if your body won’t be that size ever again? What if something is different now and that body size is gone? Then what?”

I see this so often in women. Yes, I just want to be healthy, but I know I need to be smaller. Yes, I just want to be healthy but I’ll feel better at a different size.

And you know? They might.

But what if they never do? What if, at the end of their life, they’ve chased this ideal skinny body, this particular smaller size, always unsatisfied, always trying. And what if they just never get there?

Because that size – even if it IS attainable – is unattainable. That size? It’s a metaphor. It’s irrelevant. It’s imaginary. It’s bullshit.

Tying your life, your health, your mental health to a number (be it dress size, weight, or just the idea of “skinny”) is such a waste.

And to clarify, because I know there will be people out there accusing me of saying being unhealthy is OK: BEING HEALTHY IS THE GOAL HERE, OK?

Be healthy. Eat whole foods. Exercise. Feed your psyche and nourish her. Do your fucking kegels, apparently. But don’t do any of it to get to a number of some sort. Do it because nourishing your body makes you feel good. Because exercising makes you feel strong. Fuck whatever size you think you need to be and just be you. Because living today and loving you today is better than waiting for even a day to love you.

Edumacation, Just Life, The Zebra

American Civ I

amerciv1

To procrastinate help me study I thought I’d post some of my history notes here for you. Verbatim from my notebook (although I have omitted the boring bits). Because I like to think I am adorable at all times.

Cortes-
-1518 led unsuccessful attack against Montezuma
-gave everyone smallpox
-won second attack [in some year I didn’t write down] -was real asshole to everyone
-congratulated self

Maryland-
-tobaccy

1676 Bacon’s Rebellion-
-Nathaniel Bacon was pissed because Indians
-took it out on richie assholes
-1675 “major conflict” in Bacon’s area of Virginia. Governor Berkeley was all “too bad”.

Rhode Island-
-result of religious and political dissent of Roger Williams (a Separatist minister)
-he proclaimed that the land belonged to the natives
-1636 bought land from the Narragansett, created Providence
-1644 est gov’t with no church ties
-actually interfaith. whoa.
-it’s like this guy isn’t even an asshole or something

(OK. Fine. Those last two lines were embellished. But I would have written them down if writing by actual hand wasn’t so HARD and TIME CONSUMING.)

(I am honest to an actual fault.)

Depression/Anxiety, Lady Links, This is a Woman

Lady Links 10.25

I’m sorry. I can’t win at life. I can’t even lose at life. I can only just barely life. I was to depressed last week to post Lady Links and pretty much too depressed today, too. But seeing as how my other option is studying, have some links.

I am the worst right now. I’m so sorry.

~TIAW on Tumblr and Pinterest.
~Maria Kang is the woman who posted a picture of herself with her three kids and her socially-accepted-idea-of-perfect body with the caption “What’s Your Excuse?” Now here’s the thing. GOOD FOR YOU, MARIA. Living a healthy life that makes you feel good. Awesome! I love it! However. By representing her happy life with pictures of her body she is, perhaps inadvertently, equating her body shape and size with happiness and insinuating that this is what we all strive for or should be striving for. By asking her readers what their excuse is, she is implying not only that we are making poor choices that are inferior to her choices, but that we all have the possibility of looking the way she does if we weren’t so lazy. Which is, of course, not true. But – and this is really the crux of everything related to fat-shaming – IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT EXCUSES THERE ARE. IT DOESN’T EVEN MATTER IF THERE ARE EXCUSES. It is none of anyone’s business what anyone else looks like. NONE. No. It’s not. Nope. Still not. Here’s a post I shared earlier this week with SOAM’s facebook page (which got me accused of fit-shaming and OH MY LORDY REALLY? If you think I am fit-shaming, you need to reread this until you, like, actually understand what I’m saying here). ANYWAY. This is the best response I’ve seen to Maria’s statement. Read it. Let it open your mind.
~I love this woman.
~On little girls and body image.
~This is the worst thing ever. Go find some bunnies to look at to cleanse your brain before you read it.

Maybe it’s all the dairy I’ve had lately, but I’m feeling like I’m not making much of a difference in the world here with these links. I don’t know. Let me know if there’s a point to me continuing or maybe I’ll focus on other things.

/emo (only, if I’m being honest, it’s probably not actually the end. I’m so sorry.)

Let's talk about prolapse. FOR FEMINISM!, This is a Woman

My Pelvic Floor’s Personal Soap Opera (In other words, avoid this if you don’t want to know about my ladybits.)

Awhile back I wrote this list.

Since then:
~I’ve had two cats sneezing blood all over the house (oh that kitty cold the kitten brought with her from the shelter? was calicivirus. Because of course.)
~I’ve had an injured wrist which hurt so badly I could not wash my hair (or anything else).
~I’ve been dealing with an unpleasant situation at my son’s school that wasn’t resolved the way I’d have hoped and resulted in his withdrawal of all but one short class.
~The cats both STILL have fleas. You know worms are coming next. FUCK YOU, FLEAS.
~And now my uterus is definitely falling out. Or maybe just my vagina. Hell if I know.

I was feeling so renewed and hopeful after I decided to start a new round of Happy Things, but now I’m super low again. Because of course that’s why.

I’m at the point where I am fairly certain life will never just be normal again. I’m not asking for it to be easy, even. Just possible.

But here’s the actual point of this entry: sometimes vaginas fall out.

My first thought when I realized what was happening was pretty extreme embarrassment. I didn’t want anyone to know ever. I felt almost like I was bad at being female. And I was glad I didn’t have a boyfriend right now. And then I realized how fucked up those thoughts and feelings were and that’s when I resolved to talk about it loudly and often.

You’re welcome.

Originally I was waiting to get it confirmed by a doctor (because it would be a little embarrassing to cry rogue vagina over nothing) but then I canceled the appointment I had scheduled last week. Partly for lack of a babysitter, partly for lack of money just at this moment (I should be covered by the Affordable Care Act in January to which I give a very legitimate THANK YOU, OBAMA!). And canceling that appointment is a decision that I made rationally and based on facts and that I completely regret today. Because I don’t know how long I will wait for another appointment at this point.

At this particular moment I am merely in mild discomfort unless you count my emotions which are hovering the edge of full blown breakdown at the moment. Not because of the prognosis – because I know I’ll live a long and happy life. But because I cannot handle bodies being broken. Anything beyond a simple cut and I lose my shit. I mean. A couple of days ago I posted a panicky picture of my injured wrist on Facebook because it looked weird. The idea that my body parts are not all in their right places is extremely upsetting to me. And that is an understatement.

I also feel extremely fragile right now. Like if I do strenuous things like standing up or coughing or pooping I might make it worse all of a sudden (because it did get worse all of a sudden). I feel like I’m walking on eggshells. Only I am also made of eggshells.

So now my uterus is trying to take a quick vacation. Maybe she’s not really understanding the ramifications of this, but if she leaves my body, she doesn’t really get to enjoy her vacation. The thing is, though, that I’d wish her good riddance if it were the best choice for me right now. I’m done with babies. I’m BEYOND ready to be done with having periods. And I know it’s not the “right” thing to say in hippie circles and that I should just be happy with her for doing her job so well all these years or whatever, but at this moment, my uterus and I are not really on speaking terms anyway so she can fuck right off. But surgery is the more invasive and expensive option with further health ramifications that might not outweigh my current situation. And also that thing about broken bodies. I would likely need some heavy psychotherapy to heal from surgery (pretty much any surgery, really).

Anyway. I will, against any sense of decency, be updating here about my pelvic floor’s personal soap opera. FOR FEMINISM!

Because when it rains, it rains internal body organs. From your body.

Happy Things, This is a Woman

Finding Happy 2013

Afternoon under the pines. #findinghappy2013 Adjusted in #snapseed.

A couple of years ago, when I foresaw a difficult year ahead, I decided to set myself up with a system to help keep me focused on the Happy when I knew the Sad would likely visit much of the year (and yet, how I underestimated the Sad of 2011!). I decided to take a photo each day of one thing, person, or moment that brought me some Happy. I kept them all saved in a set on Flickr so I could look through them whenever I needed a lift. And it did help. It was a daily moment to focus on the positive. It was a daily meditation or a prayer that I could do, even when my head was too foggy for meditation or prayer.

And since right now I’m facing some difficult times again, I thought it might be nice to revisit that idea of focusing on at least one Happy each day. If you’re also in need of some Happy, I hope you’ll join me. As we head back into the darker time of year (well, for those in the same hemisphere as I am, that is), and towards the stress of the holidays I know Happy may be harder to find for some. Happiness in numbers, I always say! (I don’t always say that. I never say that. It’s maybe kinda true, though.)

Just tag your Instagram photos this autumn with #findinghappy2013 and if you like, you can join the Flickr group as well. Let’s find Happy together!

(God. That’s the cheesiest ending to a blog post EVER.)

Lady Links, This is a Woman

LADY LINKS ARE BACK! (I hope!)

Happy Thing: Leaves Crunching
Why a picture of my feet and leaves? WHY NOT?

I commit to nothing at this time in my life because right now things are kind of hard. Actually. I guess it’s more correct to say that I commit to raising my kids and getting good grades and maybe washing some dishes once in awhile. So I don’t want to commit yet to being back here just yet, but my plan is to be back here.

And so. LADY LINKS:

~TIAW on Tumblr (which I will get back to next week! I hope!) and Pinterest.
~Join us in Finding some Happy on Instagram this year.

~New York City is working on a project that promises not to fat-shame girls, but to teach them that they are beautiful just as they are.
~This one is powerful. Trigger warning for rape. It features lyrics to “Blurred Lines” next to men and women holding signs with things their rapists said to them. Not surprisingly, the signs match up with the lyrics. Ugh.
~Need a boost after that one? Here you go: 30 Days of Redefining Beauty.
~I don’t know, but CAN I MARRY THIS GUY RIGHT NOW? He not only went as “Slave Leo” to the conventions this year (and he made the entire costume himself! from leather and metal!) but he has really well-considered and humblr reasons for doing so.

Depression/Anxiety, Happy Things, I Own a Home. WTF?, This is a Woman

Happy Things: Round 2

Happy Thing: Heart-Shaped Coffee

Oh look! It’s me not blogging!

I hate being a broken record. When I have to work my way through something, I get sick and tired of hearing myself use the same words to describe it over and over again. I suppose that using certain words is a normal part of psychological growth and healing, but holy crap I wish I would just shut up.

And so here I am not blogging about where I’m at in my life. Because it’s fucking boring. Blah blah blah depression. Blah blah blah loneliness. Blah blah blah anxiety. Because I don’t want my blog to be everything I hate about me, and I don’t want it to be a broken record.

I’m also having a hard time talking about it because I’m supposed to be happy right now. I bought a home and it’s lovely (and it is) and that’s exciting (and it is) and this is a time full of new beginnings which are supposed to be happy things (and they are). I feel like so many people are so excited about this for me that I’d be letting them down if I feel anything different.

And to complicate things, I actually do feel all the things I’m “supposed” to be feeling, but I’m also feeling all those key words I’m so sick of writing about.

And so here I am. Struggling to get by. Some days are pretty good. Some days are cloudy and hard. Logic and instinct tell me that this will pass as I settle into a routine and get used to all the changes. And I know that they (the logic and the instinct) are right. But the depression and the anxiety are big fat liars that terrify me with thoughts of never recovering.

In the mean time I think I might get back to my Happy Things project. From now until the end of the year (at least). It was like a meditation for me. To take a moment and dedicate it to at least one thing that brought me joy. To photograph it and make art out of it made it my daily prayer.

Does anyone want to join me? I think I’ll do it all on Instagram this time (since I’m still avoiding my big camera since it’s broken and I’m afraid it’s broken forever). We could use one of those newfangled hashtag thingamajigs people use to find each other’s projects or something. What do you think? Are you in?
UPDATE: the tag will be #findinghappy2013 Hope to see you there!

KITTIES!

Kitteh Pron

I’m not going to become one of those blogs that only blogs about kittehs. (Yes I am.) (Are there even blogs that become that? Or am I thinking of crazy cat ladies who don’t even have blogs?) But KITTEHS. And procrastination!

Thanks to @smileygrrl123 for taking this picture.
This is cuddly kinda.

Cats are aliens.

Long story very short, the kitten’s cold wasn’t just a cold. It was some shit shitass virus that makes kitty’s noses fall off and they they’ll have forever and ever (but not be symptomatic forever, thank Bast). So that was a large part of why last week was so sad for me. I was so angry that my perfectly healthy cat was infected forever with a virus from the new kitten. I wasn’t really angry at the shelter (they didn’t know – I assume). I was probably more angry with myself for having chosen a kitten from a place even though so many of the cats were obviously dealing with respiratory stuff.

And then, at midnight, all the cats started yelling at a moth on the ceiling.

Still, this kitten is a good kitten. She’s sweet and loving and fun but not too kitteny if you get my drift. And she and Leia are bffs already. Which is not only a miracle, but also really sweet and makes my heart grow three sizes every time they cuddle or play. Which might actually be a health concern for me. Enlarged heart and all. But they play together in the middle of the night and they yell at moths together in the middle of the night. And really it would be pretty cool if they’d sleep in the middle of the night, but you can’t have everything in life.

Covered in kitties = happiness.

Leia's just all "Oh I've wanted one all my life and this one is mine. Hug!"

I Own a Home. WTF?

The House So Far

I wrote some entries last week. I even posted them. But then I had a fit of depression/anxiety/insecurity and removed them. They will probably come back in some form, but I felt all cloudy-brained and I felt like that didn’t make for very good writing. I’m clearer now (in more ways than one) (not physically, though. I don’t mean I’m more invisible than I was last week) so hopefully I can rewrite them in some more coherent manner. In the mean time I have only about 15 minutes before I have to do my next chore and that’s just enough time to throw together an entry of befores and afters. Of the house I mean. Not my process of becoming invisibler.

(By the way, if you click through on the after photos, you can read some of the notes I’ve added to them on Flickr. Or if you want, you can click here to see the whole set.)

Living room!
living room

living room

Entry! And Dinette!
dinette and front door

dinette back there

Kitchen!
the kitchen

kitchen

My bedroom!
that is one damn pink room

my orange bedroom

window

master bath

two oranges

Elliott’s room!
elliott's room

First night.

elliott's room

Chalkboard doors!  And a weird light ghostie.
(OK I didn’t have great after pictures of his room.)

Margie’s room!
margie's room has the best reading corner

Kitty.

margie's room

And the girly. That green room looks very cute on her.
(OK or of her room.)

Obviously we still have work to do. We need some organizational stuff in order to finish unpacking. I need to get updated photos printed in order to put out new photo albums. I think I’m supposed to, like, hang pictures or art or some shit on the walls, but how can I dare to hammer anything into those beautifully colored walls? Except curtains. I’m rather sick of living without curtains. Very soon, hopefully, I’ll be able to afford some and also to find the confidence to learn how to actually do it.

In the mean time this place is becoming quite cozy and homey. Whenever the Universe allows it, I’m feeling quite happy here.