Shin splints, Sinatra, and moving on...

I have been walking or working out with "The Biggest Loser" Wii game almost daily. When I walk, I jog short intervals. I am able to jog more than when I started. I wake up early in the mornings to do this. I am really enjoying it now. When I started, it wasn't really fun. But now I feel empowered. Each day as I walk and jog, I feel more and more like I am gaining control of myself and my life. However, the past few days my shins have really been hurting. They hurt when I jog. So, I may have to do some different things.

Today I bought new running shoes. I have had the same pair of Nike's for nearly a year and they have had it. Today, I bought a brand I had never heard of. They are Ryka by Kelly Ripa. A friend and I went shoe shopping together today. He walked in, went to the shoes he has bought for the past five years, tried them on and bought them. I tried on at least a dozen different shoes, then I asked the salesman for some help. He suggested I try Ryka or Adidas. I tried them both on and finally made a decision. I hope it was a good one.

I drove for about three hours today in a rental car. This car had Sirius radio. At a friend's(different friend- the polar opposite of my shoe shopping friend) suggestion, I listened to the Seriously Sinatra station. I fell in love. Frank Sinatra is the man I need in my life. Almost all his songs were about how he is the man. He is in control, yet he will look out for his companion's needs and well-being. For years, I have been the one in control in the relationship. This made me resentful and very cynical to the prospect of love. I had taken on the mindset that I must rely on myself and not ask others for help, because that was always disappointing.

This sounds crazy, I know, but listening to Frank sing about how he's my "big and brave and handsome Romeo" makes me think it's possible. His songs are personal and very intimate. He had me at hello. Haha. I have wondered if it would be possible for me to give up control if I was in a relationship with the right guy. With my ex-husband, when I did give up control, and explain to him how I needed him to do more, to take more control, etc... he would. For a day or two. Then when I realized he didn't have it within himself to "man up" or stand up to me, I was always so bitterly disappointed. So I decided that not asking for anything, and doing everything on my own was what I needed to do.

My fantasy guy is confident, loving, and even demanding at times. When I test him, or try to see how far I can push him, I soon learn that he is who he says he is. He's strong and won't take a lot of my crap. Why is it that I want that in a guy? And is that who I really want? I believe it is. I mean, I've already had the relationship where I was in control and made all decisions. I hated it.

I didn't hear this song today in the car, but this evening I heard a song by Frank Sinatra called "I Like To Lead When I Dance". Damn, I want him to. Part of the lyrics are:

I like to lead when I dance.
I like to steer the car whenever I drive, and hold the door ajar when we arrive.
So if it's decided that this is romance, my sweet, I'll repeat in advance, I like to lead when I dance.

I like to lead when I dance.
When Adam bit the fruit, as fashions were then
He got that fig-leaf suit, for which. Amen.
So if it's decided I'm wearing the pants, then Eve, I'd say we've got romance.
I like to lead, I set the speed, I like to lead when I dance.
When I dance, when I dance, when I dance.

I believe what Frank is saying is that if you take him on, like you really believe you want to, you get all of him, and he is confident and in control. What's that, Frank? Oh ok, yeah, I get it. Yes, I understand. Wear the pants, lead when we dance, set the speed, whatever you want.

I will still test you to be sure you are capable of doing all that though. Don't let me down, Frank. I need a man to do all that. I need a man that will be all that.

I have decided to take my time in choosing shoes and men. I will not settle again, for inferior shoes or men. Pushing myself too hard without good shoes has caused shin pain. Pushing myself too hard without a good man has created a woman with far more complex issues. I'm working on the issues though. I am moving on, with shin pain, or not. I am moving on, hoping my Frank Sinatra is nearby. I am moving on...

here i am

Here I am. I'm not sure how many days it has been since my last post. I am still exercising and eating less. As of tonight, I weigh 190. 190 is a lot, I know. But that is 9 pounds less than what I weighed in last time. I am trying to figure out some new things to try.

I am thinking of taking dancing lessons. I have never been dancing. Sure, I've danced a few times at school dances and in small bars with men that didn't mind that I couldn't dance well. They probably didn't mind because they couldn't dance well either.

I just feel compelled to try something new, just for myself. Dancing, joining a shooting club, becoming a sex goddess, and taking a pottery class are some options. There are many opportunities out there...

Exercise, fantasies and finding myself

I exercised again tonight. Now this may seem like a boring subject, but I am really bad to neglect this part of my life. I am also bad about doing it for a short time, and then abandoning ship. I have exercised three days in a row. I have The Biggest Loser wii game. Jillian Michaels is a Dom, if I've ever seen one! haha That's what I need though.

As I exercise I fantasize about my future. I have no idea what the future holds. I mean, I'm not Dionne Warwick. :) However, I push myself by thinking of what it could be. Fantasies are great because they don't have to be based on reality at all. In reality, I am single. In my fantasies, I am not. But daily, my fantasy man changes. Sometimes he is gentle and sweet. Somedays, he's rough and hardcore. But he always makes me exercise! haha

See, with a real person, I can't change him to suit my whims. In my fantasy, I'm not torn between arguing with him and agreeing with him. I love to argue too much! This is just in certain areas though. I hate conflict, and go out of my way to keep things peaceful.

See what I mean about trying to find myself? I am a psycho! Oh well, I could be worse things.... :)

Who am I?

Who am I? That is what I am trying to figure out. It is sad perhaps, that I am still trying to figure it out. I am in my 30's, yet, most of the time I feel like I am about fifteen. You know when you are fifteen, you are very gullible and trying to fit in with others. Yeah, that's me.

The husband is gone, which is a good thing, in most ways. I have been exercising, which is good. I am tired of being overweight. I am thinking of putting my weight and amounts of exercise in this blog, just for accountability. I have let myself go. That's what people say. What does that mean? I have let myself go to pot? I have let myself go without while taking care of others? I don't know.

I know I gotta be careful. Dating seems like a very scary thing. I want to be touched though. I miss that. So, as of today I weigh 199. I exercised Monday and Tuesday.

I believe the attachment to my parents, with my father in particular, is best described as an avoidant attachment. That makes me feel guilty to even say that. My father believed in working hard and he felt others should do the same. However, he was very demanding of those around him. I have no memory of my father ever telling me that he loved me or that he was proud of anything I had accomplished. He either said nothing or criticized me. I remember once showing him a spelling test that I had made a 100% on and he asked if I could not have done any better. This was his form of teasing, but some encouragement or support along the way could have made a huge difference in how I felt about myself.

Another memory I have is of my high school English teacher, Mr. McCarty, sending my parents a postcard at the end of my junior year. He spoke of my great attitude and willingness to participate. He said I was a joy to have in class. I found this postcard in the junk drawer of the kitchen cabinet that summer. I remember reading it and knowing that what Mr. McCarty thought of me must not be true if my parents had not even told me about receiving the postcard. I threw it away. I threw away a Super Scholar’s plaque I received the same year.

Because of the avoidant attachment with my parents, I felt I had little value. I dated people who I felt I deserved. I dated a guy who had dropped out of school, and another that went to serve his sentence by going to jail on the weekends. I had no supervision as a teen. I had sex with men because I felt like I did not have the right to say no. When I dated, I gave myself away bit by bit, like a pile of sand that is carried away by the wind a few grains at a time.

I have been married for ten years. I married someone that I probably should not have. When he asked me to marry him, I felt the same way I did when I had sex with men that I did not particularly want to. I thought he was “good enough” for me. It has gotten more and more stressful as time has gone by. I have always had a difficult time with people being close to me. I hide my emotions and hurts and pretend I do not need much of anything.

I wish that I knew that I did have value and that I had the right to my own opinion when I dated. I also wish I would have known that I should not feel obligated to have sex because it was the “nice thing” to do. I remember as a teen giving in to peer pressure in many different aspects because I felt like what I wanted, truly did not matter. It is difficult to know what advice should be given to teens before they begin to date. I remember a few people trying to talk me out of dating a certain person or about marrying my husband. I felt like they meant well, but they did not understand that the right guy would never want me. I settled.

This is ironic, but the line I would not allow guys I dated to cross, was them speaking negatively about themselves. I encouraged each person I dated. I tried to convince them they had good qualities. One guy I dated listened to negative self-image type music continuously. We always argued over what music to listen to. I repeatedly told him that listening to all those songs that reinforced his aversion to himself was not healthy. Was I attracted to men who had poor self-esteem because of my own self-deprecation?

Something I wrote tonight

I was listening to Guy Clark tonight and I wrote this.

I could not get over how much you looked like the pictures I had seen of your dad. Before, you were confident and fatherly. You were vibrant and the life of the party. You threw all the parties. You toked it up and drank until everyone else left or passed out. You gave advice and people listened. You deserved respect and it was given, not because it was demanded, but because of your character.

Afterwards, you seemed to have lost your confidence. Instead of a father figure, you seemed like a scared child in an old man’s body. I was scared seeing you like that. You were no longer the life of the party, dispensing advice like a psychologist. You were searching for answers. You were the one asking questions.

You were bitter. You went into hiding. You talked of putting up locked gates and privacy fences. You planted weeping willows all along the road. You put up blinds on the front porch. The parties stopped. You talked about yesterdays, regrets and remembrances. You talked about how no one came around anymore since there wasn’t free whiskey.

I think people didn’t come around not because of the lack of liquor, but because of changes in you. You didn’t consciously decide to change. We all knew that. Nonetheless, you changed. It scared us all when you asked us questions about the meaning of life. We were used to your rhetorical questions that helped to drive home your point.

Your character remained. The respect for you stayed. Maybe that is why people stayed away, out of respect for you. Life changes us. Fear changes us. Chemo changes us.

drinking beer,watching re-runs and blogging

What?? Someone I was "following" totally disappeared. She completely disappeared. She vanished from my list of blogs I follow. Where did she go? Should I care so much? When people vanish from blogs, it's like seeing a movie that doesn't reveal what happens at the end. I watch movies to see how they end. I want to know! I read blogs to see what's going on in people's lives.

The woman I was "following" had a teenage son. She was also in a bdsm relationship. This was new to her. She said she had finally found herself through this relationship. So now I wonder did the son happen upon her blog and was so deeply disturbed that she did away with the whole thing? Or another thought was did the whole relationship turn out to be crap, the guy a disappointment? Was he too domineering? Who knows? Not me. And the fact that I don't know really irks me.

I like reading blogs, blogs that belong to people that are doing things with their life. I feel as if my life is like when I get confused about how to take my truck out of 4-low. I know I have to put it in neutral, then 4-high, then 2 wheel drive. But I get confused so often when it's time to actually do it. I forget about it having to be in neutral, etc...

It seems like that's where I am now. It is like I have finally made it to the top of my long winding up-hill driveway, and I have pulled out onto the highway, needing to hurry up and put it in 2 wheel drive and here I am fumbling, trying to jerk the lever back before someone plows into me. I'm fumbling trying to remember the next step in moving ahead. Every year, as my birthday draws near I usually question what am I doing with my life? I wonder if my life is really helping anyone else's. It's not even near my b.d. and I am asking myself this question.

Now, here I am, in my basement, drinking beer, alone. I have class tomorrow to find out how badly I failed a test I took on Monday. What am I doing with my life? I had an interview today. Four people questioned me and commended me on how great I am doing balancing so many things. I was questioned about my support system, and I tried to divert the question. I did not want to answer it. I was forced to answer it. Right after I was told what a great job I was doing I was told they were worried about me. Life is complicated. I was asked what I did for fun. I did not have an answer. I told them a half-truth, which was accepted. But I seriously don't know what I do for fun.

How many of us go out and do things just for fun? I really don't. Is that sad or how life is for most people? Even if it is how it is for most people, does that make it ok? So tonight, I am drinking beer(only 3 so I don't feel bad tomorrow),watching re-runs, and blogging. Not so fun. I need direction. Not just on what to do for fun, but direction with my life in general. Well the dryer stopped, time to re-load it...