I’m back… moving on from the loss of my puppy…

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything. The post about losing my puppy was so hard to write… I kind of stayed away just so I didn’t need to think about it again… But, my life did go on without my puppy ūüė¶

I actually thought I wouldn’t get another dog, I couldn’t love and lose something that much ever again… but, I saw a sweet rescue dog on a local website and something about her just called out to me… I went to meet her, I knew I wouldn’t be going home with her because there had to be a home inspection and other things need to be handled before you can adopt, so I kind of felt okay going because I didn’t have to commit to anything. I met her, her name was Holly-2 (they must have had another Holly) she was so scared & shy, she clung to another rescue dog there… I wanted to help her and take care of her… They told me I couldn’t adopt her, because she needed to be with another dog… I was already having issues with my landlords letting me have another dog… so I knew I couldn’t have two. I sat with her for a couple hours and had a couple of interviews¬†with the rescue volunteers… (which included lots of tears for Tyler and for the fact that I was already bonding with this sweet, scared doggie) I knew what their decision was, so at the end of the adoption event, I kissed her good-bye and walked back to my car, a little more broken-hearted…. then someone called out to me, they had Holly on a leash and were walking towards me in the parking lot… they said I could take her (as a foster)… I am not sure what changed their minds or why protocol wasn’t being followed regarding the home visit and adopter/foster review/approval, but there she was shaking and looking up at me and I was happy to take her leash (they said they’d come for a home visit the next day). As I said I’m not sure what made them decide I could take her, maybe they could see that I needed her as much as she needed me… anyway, I changed her name to Ashley (after a special little girl in my life, who is now all grown up). Anyway, Ashley and I bonded immediately and she helped me smile again ūüôā The home visit went well, now it was just convincing my landlords to let me have another dog. I wrote them a letter and poured out my feelings and although they weren’t thrilled about it, they allowed it.

After officially adopting Ashley, I started volunteering for the rescue group every Saturday. It made me happy to spend time making a homeless dog feel loved and¬† special even if it was only for a few hours. I really enjoyed it. I felt like I was getting back into life. I was having a hard time with my weight issues, the sadness of losing Tyler was stronger than I could handle, so I turned to my old friend, food! I didn’t gain back massive amounts, but that part of my life felt like it was going in the wrong direction. Other than that most things were good… good job, had lost enough weight to travel on business trips with my company, I was volunteering, I loved my apartment, still felt a little hope for my future. One of the Saturdays I was volunteering a sweet little 12 wk. old puppy showed up for adoption. I fell in love with her immediately, I volunteered to foster her and got to take her home that day… She and Ashley bonded immediately. The whole few months I had Ashley, she had never barked (I thought maybe her barker was broken) but after a couple of days, with Pippin (Pippi) the foster pup, she barked, I was so happy, I called my mom just so she could hear it. Ashley wasn’t broken, the puppy was so good for her, I had bought Ashley many toys, but she never touched them, that puppy¬† taught Ashley what a doggie toy was for… there was no way I wasn’t keeping this baby girl. I adopted her the next week (as far as my landlords knew, I was still just fostering her). I named her Daisy Mae (she didn’t look like a Pippin). Yes, I am a foster failure, fostered two-adopted both ūüôā

Things were going well… then my landlord told me that their sister/sister-in law needed to move into my apartment, so I had to be out in 30 days. That was a shock. I wasn’t sure what to do… I looked at some apartments (so expensive) and I didnt think buying was an option. I looked at some foreclosures and got really discouraged. I really thought I’d have to go back to my mom’s home with my abusive brother still there… but I didn’t give up.¬† One day I visited a foreclosed townhome in perfect condition, I didn’t think I could do it on my own, but I ended up putting in an offer, and having it accepted. Before I could even blink, I was a homeowner… it felt surreal, that I had achieved this… I was once again feeling pretty good about myself and my hopes for my future… buying my own home was a real confidence booster! My doggies loved it too, so much room to run around inside and out, three finished levels and a small back yard!

I think I can say I was truly feeling happy again… had a good 6 months in my new home… the future looked bright. Then one day I wasn’t feeling so well, having some issues (female issues). Ended up in the ER and then when things were under control I went in for tests… Again, I will never forget the phone call, I was laughing and eating lunch with my co-workers, cell phone rang, Dr.’s office was calling to tell me I had uterine cancer! It felt surreal and so unfair, I had already beaten kidney cancer and was down one kidney and now this… I remember screaming and crying, it really didn’t feel like it could be really happening again… but it was!

I think that is enough for today, I’ll be back with more of my life story and my hopes that change is still possible. It honestly feels good to be back here and putting my feelings into words… Thanks so much for listening (reading)

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Puppy Love :) the most positive change in my life…

When I left off… I was at a pretty good place in my life… A hopeful time… I had beaten kidney cancer, and had weight loss surgery was losing weight, feeling better about myself. I was still living at home at 37 years old and still dealing with the abuse from my brother… ¬†I did love my job. We hired a summer intern, a¬†friend¬†of a good friend of mine. She came home from college in May of that year… and had brought two adorable puppies that were rescued from a rest stop. A boy and a girl. She bought them in to the office… I fell in love… I had never had a dog my parents weren’t into pets. Our intern was having trouble keeping up with two puppies. So I volunteered to take the boy home a couple of nights to give her a break. Of course once I had him in the car and stopped at the pet store to buy some supplies, I¬†already¬†wanted to keep him. The problem was that it was my mom’s home with my two brothers, and they weren’t keen on a puppy. I begged my mom to give it a try for a while… she said yes. I named my puppy Tyler… he was the sweetest little thing. He was about 10 weeks old when I got him. He made me happy! I never really understood how much you could love a dog until I got Tyler. Unfortunately, I did not realize how much my brother hated dogs. He was so against me keeping him. He voiced his opinions to my mom, but at that point I don’t think there was anything that would have kept me from keeping him.

One night, my brother,¬†threatened¬†to kick my puppy, or kill him, if I didn’t get rid of him. In all the years and years of being abused by my brother, I never truly considered leaving home. It wasn’t something that seemed possible. But, when it came to Tyler… all of the sudden, I had the will to walk out the door. I called a friend from work, who happened to be a big dog lover. I told her a little of what was going on and that I needed to get out of my house. She said I could come stay with her & her husband (and their two dogs) for the night. Tyler gave me the¬†strength¬†to walk out that door. I loved him so much… he gave me the motivation to make changes in my life, I never thought were possible. Thanks to my wonderful friend, I had a safe place to stay. I realized, if at all possible, I was NOT going to go back to live at that house. It was a scary time, as I had never been on my own… and it was challenging trying to find a place that I could afford and that I could bring a puppy to. I couldn’t afford an apartment on my own, so I looked into renting a room, in someone’s home. I found a place about a month after I left my moms. It wasn’t an ideal situation, my¬†roommate¬†had some issues. But, I had my bedroom… I was renting and my Tyler, so it was good enough! ¬†I sometimes think about the fact that if I hadn’t fallen in love with that puppy. I might still be living at home… He was truly my savoir and my angel! I loved him sooo much! Tyler and I lived with the¬†roommate¬†for a few months. I eventually found a little basement apartment in someone’s home. It was a full apartment, living room, bedroom, kitchen. I loved it. It was my own place (mine and Tyler’s). The landlords were really nice.¬†Their¬†huge¬†fenced¬†in back yard was my front yard, and there was a pool too. I spent so much time in that pool¬†exercising.¬†And I spent a lot of time in that yard with Tyler. He loved running around back¬†there. We even had a¬†cook-out birthday party for his first birthday (the first cook-out I ever hosted). Life was feeling pretty darn great. I was losing weight, out on my own and away from the mental and physical abuse from my brother. I was going to therapy, and working on my issues… Work was going well. I had gotten another promotion, which was why I could afford the basement apt. That was such a wonderful year. I still am amazed how much that puppy¬†inspired¬†me to change the direction of my life! He made me so happy! I had even joined match.com, I was considering the possibilities of dating… even though I was 38 years old and had never dated in my entire life… I was feeling a confidence, I had never felt before. I filled my match profile, with pictures of me and my Tyler.

My therapist¬†recommended¬†that I read a book called “Compassion and Self-Hate”. I remember reading the self-hate part without a problem and identifying with so much of it. For the compassion section, I literally had to read it out loud, to try and make it sink in and make sense, it was such a¬†foreign¬†concept, to have compassion for yourself! I remember I was¬†reading¬†it on a Saturday, snuggled up with Tyler in bed. I remember¬†scratching¬†his belly and hugging him that day, and thinking about how much I loved him. At some point he had gone to the door to ask to be let out in the yard. I let him out in the fenced in backyard, as I had done many times before. I went back to reading the book. God, this is so hard to type. I am crying now, as I type. Within about 20-30 minutes of letting him in the backyard. My cell phone rang… the person on the other end asked if I had a dog named Tyler… I was thinking how could they know that… they¬†said¬†I’m sorry but he is dead! I didn’t understand… it couldn’t be.., he was in the yard… I hung up… and my phone rang again, this time it was a¬†different¬†person saying the same thing! I remember screaming and crying NO, Oh my god, NO! I was screaming so loud that the landlord in the main part of the house heard me and came running to my front door. I was hysterical. She took the phone and redialed the # that had called. They told her where Tyler was, she volunteered to go get him, right away. My worst nightmares came true. My baby was gone… apparently my landlord’s had accidentally left the back gate open, when they were cleaning the pool. According to witnesses, Tyler chased a fox out of the the yard and across a main rd. the fox made it across, but Tyler didn’t… he was hit and he was killed instantly…. It was (and I think, still is) the most horrible thing that had ever happened to me. She brought him back to the house and he just looked like he was sleeping. But my sweet baby was gone. He wasn’t even two years old and he was gone!

I go to great lengths not to think about that day… I am literally sitting here typing with a lump in my throat and crying… Needless to say, my life took another turn that day. Into an¬†unfathomable¬†sadness and depression. I had never felt such¬†loneliness. At some point, it was like I had to turn my emotions off… I just couldn’t survive in that dark lonely place! It sort of became a numbness. I think that pain is always there just under the surface, which is why I try not to ever let my mind go there! I lost so much hope when I lost my baby boy! Sometime, I try to tell¬†myself that he was an angel that was sent into my life for a reason and that maybe his little spirit needed to move on to help someone else‚Ķ But, I miss him so much! I miss his smell and his soft little belly and his cuddles! I feel like I started on a downward spiral that day… Sometimes that sadness,¬†loneliness, loss¬†and hopelessness hits me like a ton of bricks… and it’s been almost 6 years since I lost him!

I think I will end there for¬†tonight¬† I have been dreading writing this post, but felt like I needed to get it out… I keep it buried so far inside…

I am so thankful for the positive changes Tyler helped me make in my life… I miss and love my little angel boy… Always!

Tyler PuppySleepy Tyfix your ear tyEaster Beagle CardpoolsidepuckeyHappy Halloween from me and Ty

The journey – moving on from cancer and on to weight loss surgery….

Well… let’s see. I did beat the renal cell carcinoma, had the surgery and was now a Diabetic with only one kidney. I was heading in the wrong direction… FAST! I had found a new primary care doctor, after my other one had ignored me for over a year, blaming my back pain on my weight, without doing any tests… I just didn’t feel I could trust her anymore!

My new Primary Care Physician wanted me to have Weight Loss Surgery (WLS). He thought my diabetes was too out of control and that something drastic needed to be done. At this point I was close to 400 lbs. I was terrified of the surgery, I had heard so many horror stories about it. I was too afraid to really even consider it. But then, I got together with one of my friends, who I hadn’t seen for months, ¬†and she looked great… at some point that day she told me she had WLS. She said she was thrilled with the results. After hearing it from someone I knew well and trusted… and who had done it and ¬†came through it fine… I decided maybe I will give it a try. She of course had no where near the amount of weight to lose that I had… but it still gave me the motivation to think about it as a possibility…

Once, you make the decision that you are ready to try this, then there is the part where you have to qualify, it was quite an ordeal. There was no doubt my BMI was high enough to qualify in that respect. But trying to get it covered by insurance and also, getting though all of the medical tests and mental tests to qualify were kind of intense. I won’t name the Surgeon that I used. When I met him, he said there was no doubt it was something I should do. He seemed so nice at the time… After the evaluation survey, they said they felt I needed to do some mental therapy before I had the surgery, (which I did) but they were ready to schedule it. The insurance didn’t want to cover it at first, so I had to get a letter of medical necessity. It was covered, but with a $1,000.00 co-pay. I didn’t have that amount of money, but my boss said that she would give me the money for the co-pay. That was such an amazing gift.

I really felt like my life was headed in the right direction. I had a good job that I loved and a boss who believed in me… Yes, I was still in my mid 30s and living at home, and dealing with the emotional/physical abuse from by brother. But it felt like possibly my life could be changing for the better! I had my WLS surgery in August of 2004. It went well, but I did have some complications with infection. I didn’t even realize that my surgeon, was doing “open” surgery. I thought it would be laproscopic, like my friend had done. She just had 4 little holes, where they used the scopes. I had a huge incision, and it got infected. I had to wear this thing called a binder… I called it pure¬†torture.¬† It was like a tight¬†Velcro¬†band that went all the way around me from right under my rib cage all the way down to my hips. It was hot and itchy and I truly hated it. But, I did what I was supposed to do… and got the infection… That was when I came to realize that the practice where I had my surgery done, mostly only cared about you before the surgery. They were all supportive and rooting for you before hand. Afterwards, it was like they didn’t even want to deal with the infection (My primary care doc ¬†ended up treating it.) I sort of came to a quick realization that at this particular WLS practice, it was all about how many surgeries you could get done and how much money they could make, the aftercare was non-existent¬† ¬†I kind of felt abandoned.

It was a miserable for the first few months. Truly not being able to eat anything unless is was put in the blender… it was sort of like a liquid diet. Only soft foods or mush… I tried putting things like eggs or chicken or even tuna salad in the blender, but once your food is¬†liquefied, it is just not the same. It was actually pretty disgusting. I was always feeling sick and throwing up… but I was losing weight! I lost quite a bit at the beginning and of course it slowed down, I believe the total amount I had lost in the end was close to 100 lbs. That was within about a year’s time. I was getting around better… so much less pain when I walked. I did get off of Insulin and even oral diabetes medications.

I was feeling pretty hopeful about my life. I got a promotion and got to travel ¬†to represent my company. I could fit in the seat on the airplane and wear the¬†seat belt¬†without an extender… I was really starting to feel good about myself ūüôā Hope is a really great thing to feel! I was thinking maybe my life doesn’t have to be this miserable lonely exsistence. Maybe I could have the things I dreamed of… a family and children of my own. I still had never been on a date and was a 37 yr. old virgin, but I felt like if things kept progressing, I’d feel good enough about myself to put myself out there in the world… to try things I never felt were possible before! Like actually being able to move out on my own… break away from the abuse of my brother and move forward with my life…

I think I will end here… the next part of my story, was a very special time with some big changes… but since its a long story, I’ll save it for my next blog post. Thanks so much for listening (reading)… It just feels good to feel like I am connecting to people who care about what I have to say… till next time…

Continuing my story…

I left off on my new job the 3rd kidney surgery for my now broken up kidney stone. I was truly happy with my new job. After spending so many years feeling worthless and believing all the negative things that were¬†ingrained¬†in me about myself (mostly from my dad and my abusive brother), it was so refreshing to get the positive feedback. I loved getting up everyday and going to my job. The people were wonderful, and so appreciative of my work and assistance. It was/is a small company, only about 9 employees in the office, but it was my safe place. Sometimes I worked late, just so I didn’t have to go home!

When I did go home it was back to reality of verbal/physical abuse. On New Year’s Day 2003, not even sure why it happened, but something totally set my brother off. I remember him throwing a remote control at me and breaking it, then getting so mad when I got upset. He spent the next hour tormenting me. Hitting me, yelling at me… spitting on me.¬†There¬†was one point that he had my wrists held so tight, I couldn’t get away. I slipped and sort of landed on his leg. I could feel that if I just bounced a little bit, I could probably break his leg. I thought about it, but didn’t do it. I remember once I got away from him… I ran out of the house barefooted with spit filled hair and w/my car keys, I was wearing a short night shirt and cut off shorts, it was so cold and it was raining. I was just driving around crying. I didn’t have anywhere to go… the way I was dressed with no shoes and no coat, ¬†I couldn’t even go to get fast food, so I just drove and drove. I eventually went back home, much later that night. Luckily, he wasn’t there, so I just went to bed… I was definitely upset, and would have loved not coming back, but as I said I had no where to go. The next day at work, I didn’t feel nearly as happy to be¬†there. It was a traumatizing experience. I couldn’t believe that was how my new year started. I was living at home in an abusive situation and in my thirties. As time¬†went¬†on the shame of the incident, kind of lessened, and things kind of went back to normal… I was enjoying going to work and dreading going home, but luckily the physical abuse part was not as bad, the mental abuse never really got any better.

During this time of gaining confidence in myself, through my job. I went in for a CT scan of my kidney for my next surgery to finish removing the stone pieces that remained. When I went in for the results of the scan, my local kidney Dr. (not the one that did my surgery) told me there was an abnormality and that it could possibly be cancer, but most likely it wasn’t. I had to have a few other tests. I just wanted answers as scared as I was to actually get them. That was a crazy couple of weeks, the Dr not getting back to me and just the agony of not knowing. It felt like he was giving me the run around. Later in that second week, he called me at work and told me I had Renal Cell Carcinoma (kidney cancer). I remember completely breaking down at my desk. Crying out loud… I was so scared. One of my closest co-workers, who had become a friend heard me and came out to comfort me. The whole thing seemed surreal. I¬†didn’t¬†want to believe it. I did go to the¬†surgeon¬†at the¬†prestigious¬†hospital¬†that did my¬†kidney¬†stone surgeries for a 2nd¬†opinion¬† He was a Dr. that I trusted completely. My boss and a good friend (that I have know since I was 14) went with me, it was about an hour away.

My surgeon confirmed that I did have cancer. He¬†also¬†said since it was the kidney¬†that¬†had been operated on for the stone¬†multiple¬†times, it was not worth trying to save it. He felt the best thing was just to remove¬†the¬†whole kidney. ¬†It was made even scarier by the fact that I was diabetic. I was over 300 lbs, diabetic (type 2) and losing a kidney. I¬†remember on the way back from the hospital, my friends¬†that¬†went with me, were talking to me in silly voices,¬†pretending¬†they were my good kidney… saying “you need to take care of me… I’m the only good kidney you’ll have.” It did make me laugh… which I needed, but I realized what they were saying was so true. I needed to get my weight down and my sugars under control, so that I didn’t end up killing my good kidney. You’d think that¬†really¬†would have been motivating, but I was so focused on the negative and whether I would even survive surgery, that I didn’t do much of anything but worry and eat! ¬†It was a scary time. I remember that my Notary Public Certificate arrived when I looked at the expiration date, all I could think of was, I hope I don’t expire before this does!

My surgeon (a wonderful Dr. and man), removed my kidney, by something he called morstlizing, (not sure I really even want to know what that means)… it was done laproscopically. It was a relief to be cancer free… my mom was a big support then at the hospital so far from home.. she also took care of me after. Unfortunately, it was weeks off from my job and being at home 24/7. Luckily, my bro wasn’t too mean during that time. I felt lonely and disconnected from the world. The fear of more cancer seemed to occupy my mind all the time. But, I did make it through and back to work, which was a relief. My eating was still out of control, as it has been most of my adult life… My Diabetes, kind of took over, I was on massive doses of Insulin (which I had never needed before). I felt like I was¬†trying¬†to self-destruct… Something I feel like I’ve spent my whole life doing!

I am still hoping that maybe this blog can help me come to terms with my past and move on and lose the weight, that holds me back from so much and keeps me so isolated and lonely… I will be back with more of my craziness! Thanks for listening (reading)!

So then…

I was working in telemarketing… and I was actually really good at it (like I said no one could see what I looked like on the phone). I didn’t make much money so I did live at home… I remember one night in particular. When you are telemarketing, the supervisors can come in on your line and listen to see how you are doing. You never know when they’re listening in on your calls… for some strange reason, I still don’t know why or how. I could hear the supervisors (on my headset) ¬†in the main office, like it was them that I had called., I was asking to speak to the person I called, but apparently the call didn’t actually go through. Since they had no idea I could hear them talking they were laughing and making fun of me. They were talking about how fat I was and saying mean things. It took a few minutes for me to realize what I was hearing on my line was them in the office. I was so hurt. I wasn’t sure what to do. I got up from my station… opened their office door and told them. I just heard everything you said. Then I started crying and walked out. They later tried to apologize, but that’s the kind of thing you can’t really apologize for,¬†because¬†they had no idea I could hear what they were saying, they were their true feelings, and nothing they¬†could¬†say afterwards could make it any better…¬†You¬†know how people say, I wish I could be a fly on the wall (hearing stuff and no one knowing you could hear them)… I can tell you that is something you don’t want to experience. During that time in my life, I didn’t really care about much of anything. One night at work, I was called into the office of the supervisor and told that I needed to leave, because someone complained that I stunk. I don’t know if I did or not. I had been wearing tennis shoes with no socks, and you can get stinky feet from that… but that was one of my most humiliating days ever. I still get a stomach ache when I think about it (and it was over 20 years ago). The telemarketing company eventually closed down. We showed up for¬†work one night and the building was empty…Then I was unemployed…

Living at home in my 20’s… I was abused by my brother both mentally and physically. I mentioned that when I was younger I had found an escape in¬†television, especially soap operas… I got back into watching the soaps… I started saving my money so that I could go on trips to meet them. I met a lot of nice people, and made some good friends. But I got myself in deep debt, spending money, I didn’t really have. I was a soap opera star groupie… I know now, that it was just a way to escape from the misery of my life at the time. I traveled to California more times than I can count, to go and meet the actors. I often wonder what they truly thought of the fans, that traveled to meet them at public appearances. I’m sure they didn’t think much of us. But that didn’t stop me from doing it for over 10 yrs. I mean some of the actors were really nice and a couple actually became friends, but mostly over all I think the majority of them probably thought we were losers.

I got another telemarketing job (same type of organization) so that I could keep traveling. That place was also the same kind of thing… most of the people who work in telemarketing, are either fat or have some type of handicap that prevents them from having a job in the real world.¬†There¬†was a guy there, older man, probably 40 years older than me at the time. His¬†behavior¬†was the total¬†definition¬†of sexual¬†harassment¬† The things he said, and did, it was truly shocking to me. Most of the women just laughed it off, so I did too, but I think about that sometimes and cannot believe that I, or any of us, let him get away with that. That company eventually shut down too. Apparently it’s quite common with telemarketing. I did meet someone there who was interested in hiring some people to do telemarketing from home. I ended up getting a job working for her. It was a time when I gained even more weight. I pretty much slept on the couch in my mom’s living room. I’d wake up, I kept the phone (it had a cord then) in the living room, on a TV tray. I’d do telemarketing for a hours, then I push the phone away and lay back down and go to sleep. It was actually horrible, when I think about it now, there were days at a time, when I never left my house, or my couch…

I’m not even sure where I’m heading with this post. It was a dark time in my life. I still¬†traveled¬†for soap opera trips a¬†couple¬†times a year, but the rest of my time was spent on that couch. My brother was still taking the frustrations of his life out on me. He couldn’t stand that I was always around.¬†Always¬†in the living room… he would come home late and night and be angry with me (pretty much for exsisting). One night in the pitch black, he threw a glass mason jar salt shaker at me. He threw it so hard that I had an instant lump on ¬†my forearm (the kind that pops up on a cartoon character when they get hit in the head) I realize that if it had hit me in my head, it may have killed me. I had a lump the size of a baseball on my arm that was purple, red and painful. It lasted for a long time, even after the bruising went away the lump hung around for months.

It was around this time period when I kept noticing a lot of pain in my lower back area. My Dr. at the time always blamed it on my weight. It went on for over a year, I’d mention the pain was still there and she’d say “you need to lose weight”. I had to have a test for something else and that is when they found out that I had a kidney stone that was larger than my kidney, it was actually stretching out my kidney. My Dr. did apologize for not doing anything about my pain complaints. She said she felt horrible. I was sent to a urologist. I remember he said, “I hesitate to say this is the biggest stone I have ever seen, but… this is the biggest stone I have ever seen”. He didn’t even feel comfortable treating it or treating me due to my size. I was referred to a specialist at a¬†prestigious¬†hospital in Maryland. That Dr. was an amazing man. He never treated me like my pain was my own fault. I remember he called me “sweet pea”. He was so nice. He scheduled surgery, since it was so large it was going to take multiple¬†surgeries. I was to be in the hospital for a week and¬†there¬†would be two days between my first and second. After the first surgery, my arms and legs were completely numb. They waited a few days and since it hadn’t gone away, they ended up sending me home from the hospital. They didn’t want to do another surgery, until the numbness was gone. It was horrible. I had all kinds of tubes coming out of my back and bag to catch my urine. It was so ¬†uncomfortable, It still felt like I had to go to the restroom, but nothing ever came out, since it was going directly in the bag. I was so miserable and I just wanted to pull the tubes out of my back. It was a over a month later, ¬†they did the second surgery. Six months later they did a third surgery. It still was not all gone. They didn’t want to do any more surgeries and said they’d have me check back for a test in another 6 mos to a year…

In between that time, the at home telemarketing job, turned into a full time (non-telemarketing) job for the same woman’s company (yes, I was now in my 30’s and was still living at home with my mom and both brothers). But this job was actually working in an office and feeling like a professional for a change, which was a great confidence booster. They all thought I did a great job. I was just an administrative assistant but, it made me feel so good to get up and take a shower and go to a job in an office building in the daytime and work a full day, be thanked for my hard work… ¬†None of them seemed to judge me for my weight. The owner’s husband also worked for the company and he told her he had big plans for me… It was kind of a time of positivity, thinking maybe my life could change, maybe I wasn’t a waste of breath… I actually felt hopeful and proud of myself….

I am still not sure, that I am doing this blogging thing right, but I’m just putting it out there… its kind of like ¬†stream of¬†consciousness¬†writing… I apologize if it is not the way this is supposed to be done. I’ll come back with more though. At this point I am just thinking, that putting it in writing is helping me to sort things out… Thanks for reading ūüôā

More Contemplation on how my life ended up where it is now…

I left off in my new neighborhood in eighth grade. It was a nice neighborhood, and we made some amazing life long friends there. I babysat some of the neighborhood kids and that was my escape from my home life. I was battling a weight issue as I’ve talked about, but I was young and able to be active…

There were some interesting people in that neighborhood as well. We had a couple ¬†in their late 20‚Ä≤s early 30‚Ä≤s with two kids, who used to organize games for a lot of the neighborhood kids‚Ķ not anything sponsored they just liked to do it. Our neighborhood newsletter called them the ‚ÄúPied Pipers of (insert street name here). I think there was a little more to them than organizing games. The lessons they gave about sex, were quite¬†extensive¬† I know my brothers learned a whole lot from them. I wasn‚Äôt present for a lot of the sexual stuff, but I remember a few stories/demonstations‚Ķ they made me uncomfortable, but yet, I was still interested and curious. At the time I didn‚Äôt think it was odd‚Ķ they were just really cool grown-ups‚Ķ who related to us kids‚Ķ In hindsight, I see the strangeness of it. I remember the husband making me slow dance with him and always talking about my breasts and ¬†trying to touch them. Anyway at this point I was about 14-15 and ¬†had never dated or anything like that (still haven‚Äôt all these years later). I was fairly¬†naive. The husband was also trying to help me lose weight. Their last name began with a ‚ÄúT‚ÄĚ so he said he was putting me on the ‚ÄúT(leaving out last name),¬†Weight¬†And¬†Training plan. he said we could just call it the ‚ÄúTWAT‚ÄĚ plan for short. I cannot believe that I went around¬†telling¬†people that this man was helping me with my ‚ÄúTWAT‚ÄĚ plan. It wasn‚Äôt until years later that I even realized what that word actually meant. And I was like, ‚ÄúOh My God‚Ķ I was telling people that!‚ÄĚ I wonder if everyone was secretly laughing. Maybe some were as clueless as I was‚Ķ¬†Anyway‚Ķ that was another kind of odd period in my life.

Also during that time there was a boy in my neighborhood, who I was so in love with. I thought about him all the time‚Ķ He was actually my middle brother‚Äôs best friend. I don‚Äôt know if he knew how in love with him I was. I never thought I had a chance, the fact that I was a fat girl, just seemed like it wasn‚Äôt possible. I think I told him in a letter when he moved to another state‚Ķ Thinking back now, I wish I would have not been so afraid. I feel like I missed out on something that could have been amazing! I always felt like I wasn‚Äôt good enough for anyone‚Ķ I always felt on the outside of things. I think that‚Äôs the time in life when most people learn about relationships and experiment with new things. For me that never happened. I often wonder what my life might have been like if I wasn‚Äôt always afraid, or feeling guilty for having feelings/thoughts that I think are actually natural at that age. I know ‚Äúwhat-ifs‚ÄĚ are pointless‚Ķ because you can‚Äôt go back and relive it. It just makes me sad‚Ķ

During my high school time of life, my parents were ¬†divorced. My mom was dating and going out a lot. She was only in her 30‚Ä≤s, so I understand now (how young she was), but when you‚Äôre a kid and your mom isn‚Äôt around and stays out all night‚Ķ you don‚Äôt understand that. You kind of feel abandoned or unimportant. I remember many nights waiting until the wee hours of the morning praying that she would make it back home safely. I did build up a lot of resentment at that time. I remember my dad would come over to visit and my mom would tell him, she did this or he did that, and we‚Äôd get punished. I remember being smacked and knocked down and picked up by my hair. I guess he felt he had to be the enforcer when he was around. He always had a bad temper to begin with.¬†Unfortunately¬† my youngest brother inherited that temper. When dad wasn‚Äôt around (and and he wasn‚Äôt around much) we¬†could pretty much do anything we wanted. Luckily, we were pretty good kids, and didn‚Äôt get involved with drugs and other bad things. We didn‚Äôt have anyone to tell us to do our homework, no one ever cared about how we did in school (luckily I cared, I always got good grades), there was never talk about taking my SATs or going to college‚Ķ it all felt impossible. (I did eventually go to a local community college). Our house was a disastrous mess. It wasn‚Äôt quite an episode of ‚Äúhoarders‚ÄĚ but it was close.

In high school I had some good friends too. I was just so shy. I was always afraid to talk.  I was OK talking one-on-one, with someone, but in social situations, I just couldn’t do it. I joined Young Life and met some really wonderful people. I went to meetings and on Young Life trips too, but I never said anything, I just stood around listening and taking it all in. I remember wishing I wasn’t afraid to talk or be a part of the fun. I remember going away for Senior Beach week, with some of the most popular girls in my school (friends though Young Life). I didn’t speak, just watched and listened.  They must have thought I was so weird, but I was just felt intimidated. When I got home after beach week, I noticed how odd it was to hear my own voice after a week of silence. Yikes…

I went through many years of being tortured by my youngest brother, both mentally and physically. He just hated me. He thought I was a disgusting fat pig, with no use to be on the planet. There was one time he beat me up and spit on me so much that my hair was saturated. I remember running to the front door and being slammed into the doorknob with my back and then falling on the floor and being spit on… I remember many bruises given to me by him over the years. At one point some teachers and Young Life leaders got involved. I had a Young Life meeting at my house and everything went crazy. My brother was so mad that these people were in his house. It turned into a big thing and the police were called. I remember that the police gave my mom a choice of who would leave because they couldn’t leave me and my brother there that night. She told them that I should leave. I ended up staying with a friend for a few weeks. But I did miss being at home and I felt like my mom didn’t think I was worth anything either. Why would she pick me to leave?… I know my brother was the baby and he was spoiled and my mom never wanted to admit that. But, that was a real blow to me, that my own mom didn’t want me to stay. It eventually blew over and I went back home. The abuse never really stopped. The mental abuse was just as bad as the physical. He had me completely convinced that I was a worthless piece of crap. He used to tell me things like if I died, he’d piss on my grave. And that I was a waste of air. Called me all kinds of horrible things… It really did have an affect on me, even though I pretended it didn’t in front of him. I realize that my self image, was based on what he made me truly believe about myself. I did feel worthless. Obviously I gained more and more weight. I was a very unhappy person.

I still lived at home long after high school and beyond. Both of my brothers did too! I had some jobs, but nothing professional. I didn‚Äôt have a degree and I didn‚Äôt feel like I was¬†qualified¬†to do anything ‚Äúreal‚ÄĚ. I worked in stores and¬†did daycare. Later I did a lot of telemarketing, it‚Äôs the perfect job for a fat person. My voice was fine (and I was good at it) and no one could see me‚Ķ I‚Äôm rambling again. I‚Äôll come back again with more of my history as I try to figure out how I ended up in this place in my life‚Ķ I really hope I can change‚Ķ I know 46 is a little late for changes, but I¬†don‚Äôt‚Äô think I can stand to go on the way I am going‚Ķ Thanks for listening (reading), sorry it‚Äôs so jumpy‚Ķ till next time

How did I get here continued…

OK, I’m back… still thinking about the path my life has taken. I left off in my elementary years… I did have a few close friends in 5th & 6th grade… and I think pretty much fun… to go along with a whole lot of self doubt. Not that I wasn’t still made fun of…

At that point in your life pre/early teens, you are already so self¬†conscious. I developed faster than a lot of the girls in my school. I remember when we went on a girls scout camping trip, that the other girls made up a song… that rhymed with my name…. and ¬†having to do with a 36B… There were a few issues with boys in 6th grade and always joking about my breasts and that I stuffed my bra… I remember the boys trapping a few of us girls in the music room, and one of them trying too feel mine to see if they were real… unfortunately, yes they were real… At slumber parties the girls tried to look at them. It made me uncomfortable and feeling like there was something wrong with me.

I think my dad had a hard time with my maturing… but he was always making fun of me… He called me his Indian daughter “one-hung low” which was also a joke about my chest… when I tried to wear make-up he told me I looked like a clown. If I put my hair in a ponytail, he told me it made my head look like a bowling ball. He described me as two beach balls with a bowling ball on top…

Part of what bothers me so much about all of this now. Is that I believed it all. I look at girls now who are the age that I was back then, and see that I wasn’t really fat then. I was just trained to believe I was. What I wouldn’t do to go back to that time and be able to accept who I was…

My dad was always making comments about me… apparently I had reached the age where I needed deodorant, but instead of buying it for me. He would always tell me I stink. One time in the car I had my arm out the window and he was like… I can smell you and he acted so upset about it, like I could change the fact that I was going through¬†puberty¬†.. ! It was just another thing that made me feel horrible and disgusted by myself.

I remember relatives being so disturbed¬†because¬†I was wearing a size 7 at age 13. Everyone was always on the you have to loose weight band wagon. Once again I look at people who are a size 7 now and I just wish that I would have known that it wasn’t really the horrible, shameful thing that I felt it was.

When I was 3/4 of the way through 7th grade, my dad decided we needed to move into a house (a rented house that we couldn’t really afford). It was only about 10 miles away from where I had lived from 2nd to 7th grade.¬†Unfortunately¬† it was in a different county, which meant a new school, which is really hard for a pre-teen with self-doubt to deal with. Also, for some reason the telephone company was¬†different¬†and it was long distance, just to call my friends who were only a few miles away… so I was not allowed to call them. The one girl I did meet she was about 14 or 15 spent the summer telling me about her sexual exploits… I felt guilty even listening to them.¬†I felt more alone than ever.

That was a rough summer… my mom and dad (both of whom dealt with weight issues of their own) were not getting along. My mom had a hard time forgiving my dad for making us move to a place we couldn’t afford. She always had a full time job. Dad was a salesman (actually a pretty good one), but those kinds of jobs are always on commission, so sometimes he did well and sometimes it was bad… he was also super sensitive and didn’t stay in the same job for long. He was easily insulted and quit a lot of jobs¬†because¬†of that. I understand my mom’s frustration.. but sometimes it seems to me that my dad was¬†just¬†a big kid who never¬†really¬†grew up. We only lived in that house from April/May to August of that year. But it was such a dark time for me. Lonely, alone, watching my parents marriage crumble. My ¬†mom was losing lots of weight, my dad was jealous. I could tell he thought she was having an affair (which I don’t think was true). That summer I was like the wife. I woke him up, I made his coffee, I ironed his clothes for work. There was one morning I remember when he wanted a hug… I remember being in the bed with him and feeling something wasn’t right. I don’t really want to go into details that aren’t necessary. I remember him kind of rolling me on top of him and feeling him aroused. Absolutely nothing happened after that, but I remember feeling really guilty about it. He told me later that day that, that it shouldn’t have happened. He was sorry. And, I know he was, he didn’t really do anything to me. He was just lonely and in a failing marriage. But I had no one to reach out to or to talk to… I slipped into a deeper lonely depression. ¬†I remember that I had “the fear that I might kill myself” experience again. This time I always thought I would just take a bunch of pills, but I didn’t really want to die… I was just afraid I would do it.

Another thing I did that summer was eat… and eat a lot. I baked things to eat and would eat a almost a whole pan of brownies or cookies or what ever. I think I may have gained about 40 lbs that summer. While my mom was losing. I remember one day, her telling me that she was smaller than me. I remember her trying on a pair of my cut off denim shorts (which did fit her) and shaking her butt in my face… like na-na-na-na-na-na! I felt horrible to realize that I was bigger than my mom. But it didn’t make me stop eating or fearing that I would hurt myself.

I am not sure how I made it through that summer. But we had to move out of that house that we couldn’t afford. We ended up finding a townhouse that we could afford, and I started 8th grade in my new neighborhood. Things still weren’t good between my parents. I again sensed things were getting worse. I remember coming downstairs before school one day and asking if everything was¬†OK¬†… they both said yes, but after my mom left for work…. my dad told me they were getting a divorce. I was so¬†devastated¬† I remember crying and having to get ready for school and my dad¬†telling¬†me I couldn’t tell anyone…If I couldn’t stop crying I should tell people that I lost my favorite doll…

I cried during first period, and during second period my¬†English¬†teacher took me a side and asked if I was¬†OK¬† I told her I wasn’t allowed to tell her what was going on, but I couldn’t hold it in. She was so wonderful. She comforted me and we actually became very close, we’ve kept in touch over the years. She was a special person in my life.¬†Anyway¬† needless to say, eventually everyone found out. I told my brothers.The way my dad had handled it, we all kind of resented my mom… thought it was her fault.

I did have to skip school to help my dad move into a one room apartment (if you could call it that) above a candy store. I remember being in the car with him and he was crying and telling me his whole life no one ever really loved him.¬†That¬†he had been thrown out by his mother (his mom allowed her 2nd or 3rd husband throw my dad out at 16) and now by my mom…. he was so sad. I remembering feeling so sorry for him. I couldn’t change things, but I wished I could. I know my dad was a mess, but I still loved him.. he was fun and funny sometimes… even his insults made me laugh… sometimes you just couldn’t help it. Anyway, he moved out and then another¬†chapter in my life began.

I do remember finally getting over that bout of my fears of suicide from… watching¬†General Hospital. I used to think, I can’t leave the world now, how will I know what happens to Luke & Laura… I really do credit General Hospital for helping me crawl out form under my depression, as pitiful as it sounds it gave me something to live for… I would rush home after school to watch it. Those are actually some good memories… It opened my mind up to¬†possibilities¬†of love and romance and happiness…

I am not sure if I am even doing this blogging thing correctly. Is it supposed to be about your life now, is it OK to be going back to talk about the past? I hope that I am doing it right. I am feeling kind of bad about putting this information out there. No one I know even knows about this blog and I am hoping that it stays that way… I will not be publishing any links to it on my FB or twitter pages for sure! ¬†Anyway, I’ll be back again to write some more another day… thanks for listening to my ramblings…