Mirror, Mirror On The Wall....

As I continue to hover the 100 lb. mark, I find that as tough as that number is to hit and maintain, getting my mind straight is an even a bigger task.   Having struggled with my weight for some time, I would think getting to this point would be nothing but pure joy.  Unfortunately, I was wrong.
I ponder why it isn't.  How could I not be happy when I've achieving what I want?  How could I find fault in the work I have put in and the obstacles I have mastered?  I know, it sounds crazy.  However, it is my reality.
I've talked before about how people have reacted to my journey, both positively and negatively.  I've talked about how I have finally seen the physical changes in myself and am really appreciating that.
What I haven't covered enough for my own well-being is what holds me back from smashing my goals and enjoying it.  It's not how I look on the outside.  It's not the mirror on the wall.  It's the mirror in my mind.
Finally the mirror on the wall shows me a physically different person.  I know this happened well after other people saw the weight coming off.  However, it also does still show me the work that needs to be done.  My journey still has a way to go.  I am fine with that and am determined to see it to accomplishment and then maintain it.   The mirror on the wall compliments me when we engage and fills me with pride and joy.
Unfortunately, I spend less time with the mirror on the wall than the mirror in my mind.  My mind still characterizes me as overweight as I had ever been.  In my mind, that is how everyone sees me.  It convinces me that it dictates how everyone treats and reacts to me.
The mirror in my mind tells me that I'm not good enough and highlights anything that could possibly be viewed as someone judging me and then distancing themselves from me.  That mirror shows me everything negative you could possibly imagine.   Why do I listen to that mirror?  Because it is safe and comfortable.  Yes, you read that right.   That constant self doubt and insults are what makes me comfortable. 
What would happen if all of a sudden I was a supermodel on the outside?  People couldn't dislike me or treat me bad because of my looks (in my mind).  Therefore, that would mean that they didn't like me... for myself.  I wouldn't have an excuse of a character flaw in them to blame.   I would have to admit that maybe there was something about me.   So, in a strange way, it is more comfortable for me to not lose weight.
In reality, I, at times, cause my own issues just to give validity to that inner voice.  I really just accepted this in the past few days.  Because I am so uncomfortable in my own skin, I can project that onto another person and insist they view me like the mirror in my mind.  The most interesting part of this is that I do this because I am uncomfortable with them NOT judging me.  It makes me anxious when someone treats me well and does so without using kid gloves.  I know if they saw me in my mirror they would react differently, so I show an ugly mirror that they can't ignore.   If I can just push enough buttons, they, too, will judge me. 
This also satisfies the control-freak inside me.  It allows me to dictate when someone hurts me, instead of being blindsided.  Because, of course, the inner mirror is certain that I will possibly be hurt by everyone eventually. 
When done correctly, the mirror in my mind wins.  It is satisfied to confirm everyone judges me.
When done perfectly, it can devastate me to a state where I don't want to work out or eat right.  When that happens I get to be safe again. I don't have to worry about what happens if I accomplish my goals.  I don't have to fear people judging because I "know" they do and why they do. 
It is a vicious cycle really.  A cycle of self-destruction. 
To add to all of this is my Anxiety Disorder.  A future blog entry will be devoted to trying to explain my anxiety and how it completely disables me at times and what I am doing to battle it.  But, for now, what I will tell you is that it is real and entwines itself in every detail of my life.
Not hitting goals makes me anxious.  Working to hit goals makes me anxious.  Not having goals makes me anxious. Someone judging me makes me anxious.  Thinking someone may judge me makes me anxious.  Someone not judging me makes me anxious.  Me hurting someone by making them judge me makes me anxious.
My explaining this does not make it okay.  It does not repair damage that is done.  It does not excuse past or future episodes.  What this blog entry does is force me to admit what my mind is capable of and what I am allowing it to do.
There is no pride in writing this.  In fact, it is embarrassing and humiliating.  This blog post is intended to let someone out there know that they are not alone.  However, I know that someone else has to fight the same battle as I am.  To that person I say: "You are not alone.  You can win.  You will win.  Just keep fighting." 
I feel confident saying that because although I'm making some bad mistakes, I haven't given up.  I am truly saddened by the collateral damage that has been caused by my ability to not win yet.  In the past that would shut me down, but now I can not let that damage be in vain.  Those who were affected by my issues ever deserve better.
I need to learn to cover that inner mirror like I'm sitting Shiva for the damaged girl who I'm letting go.  I know it will be scary.  I know it makes me vulnerable and not in control.  But, most of all, I know it needs to happen if I am going to hit anymore goals and, more so, enjoy them. 

I Will Never Forget.... Ever

 

Bitten inner lip, ripped cuticles, sleepless nights, swollen & red eyes, and a sore jaw... and yes,  I know this tightness in my chest.   
It is how I knew what date it is.  I am not going to pretend like that I don't have other stresses or issues to deal with right now.  But knowing that today we are remember those lost that day brings back every feeling I had that day and the days/months following.  This has been my fear for 13 years.  However, my new fear is that although I will remember that we, as a country, will not. 
Two years ago, New York (and New Jersey) was destroyed by Super Storm Sandy.  I was devastated by the heartache and loss my people experienced.  The devastation was wide-spread and sad.
As bad as Sandy was, it was not an attack on our people on our soil.  Everyone knew it was coming (not that there was much you could do) and knew it would end.  With 9/11 there was no warning and, still to this day, we watching our back for the next attack.  Sandy was an act of nature, similar (although on a greater scale) to the hurricanes and tornadoes I see in North Carolina.  This is unlike 9/11 where there were PEOPLE behind it.  There was plotting and scheming.  There was intent.  Someone planned to kill us.  There was a group of people who wanted to cripple our society.   And on the news this very day there are people threatening to do something just as sinister to our people
What I would like to ask people is to never forget.  When you are in the airport and the TSA line is long, remember who they are looking for.  When you see an American flag, remember that we are all in this together.   There are teenagers in high school now who have no memories of parent because they were infants when terrorists took their lives. 
I have included (below) the thoughts I wrote 6 years ago about that day.   I still battle the blue skies.  I fight hard on gorgeous days. My panic disorder swirls in full effect on weeks like this. But I will never give up.
Thank you and God bless to every person who is currently or has served in the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, Coast Guard, NYPD, FDNY, Port Authority and everyone else that has served in the police & fire departments across this country.

Has it been 8 years Already? It has only been 8 years?

As I settle in to enjoy the first night of NFL, there is something nagging at my heart. I look forward to this day for 7 months. I have spent the past 4 weekends rushing around to complete tasks around the house so I don't feel so guilty when I spend the next 17 Sundays hanging onto every over-analyzed comment some has-been wants to throw at me. Hell, the Mets even decided to pack it in more than a month ago so I could dedicate myself fully to the NFL games and my beloved Fantasy Team, "The Long Island Hell Cats." So why am I lacking the excitement I usually have and my heart, so heavy?
Eight years ago our country changed (or at least should have) forever. And even if you think I am overstating that I can assure you that I changed forever that day.
At the time I was working for the Muscular Dystrophy Association as a District Director. It was a job I loved in so many ways. I will spare you the negatives at this point in time. Working at MDA I met so many amazing people who handled challenges that I could never imagine better than I handled finding a dress to wear to an event. From children knowing that they would never grow as old as I was at the time (in my late 20s) to those around my age who knew they would never see their newborn's 5th birthday. The strength these individuals and their families showed me everyday was nothing short of inspiring. I always thought what I saw at MDA would be the best and worst I would ever see.
Despite acknowledging that everyday, I still let my own life struggles get the best of me at times. September 10, 2001 was one of those days. In some ways it was a typical "nothing goes right" Monday after an exhausting summer of golf tournaments and various "athon"s. Additionally, I was still struggling with the death of my dear PaPa in August. After a very long day at work, I went home, ate dinner, spoke to a friend on the phone and then headed to bed early.
As my alarm went of on that Tuesday morning, I grunted (as usual), hit snooze a few times and made my way to the bathroom. After popping my contacts in, I headed back to the bedroom to figure out what I wanted to wear. The clock caught my eye and realized I had left my alarm set for 2 hours early, when I had to awake on Monday. I snuggled back into my bed to catch a few more zzzs but could not. So, reluctantly, I made a decision to have a good day. I changed my clothes, headed to the living area and had an early morning date with my on-again-off-again boyfriend Billy Blanks. Once Tae Bo had my blood pumping I got into the shower and off I went.
As I drove to pick up the "Long Island Champion Breakfast" of a Large Coffee and Buttered Roll from 7-Eleven, the amazingly blue sky caught my eye. Upon exiting with my treats in hand, I stopped before opening my car door to look at every bit of sky I could see... just trying to find one (however itty bitty) cloud. I could not find one. As I sat down in my car, I rolled down every window and the moon roof and reaffirmed to myself out loud that today was going to be a great day. I was ready.
At each stop light on my way to the office (which if I remember correctly, there are 97 lights between Setauket & Hauppauge ... especially if you take route 347) I looked up at the sky through the moon roof. I was in complete amazement. In all my 20-some-odd years, I had never seen such a blue sky.
Upon entering the office, I went on my normal routine. Turned on the lights and computers. I turned on the office CD player and knew I had a good 1 1/2 hours before anyone else would arrive. At the time I was in the midst of a huge Harry Connick, Jr. phase and would often use his mellow tones to ease me into my day. But not today. I had pushed my southern boy to the side for my old standard, hometown boy, Billy Joel. As I rushed around the office, I sang along with BJ with a determined light heartedness I not had in at least a couple of months.
At approximately 8:50 AM I received a phone call from a friend telling me that "some jackass drove a plane in the World Trade Center.... and you thought you had a bad day yesterday?" I rushed off the phone as I had things to do, shaking my head wondering how a pilot could manage that. He had to be drunk.
Just a few minutes after 9 AM, some of my co workers started into the office. Okay, we had a small staff and as much as I love them, being on time was not one of the respects they showed me. But today, their faces were stressed, confused, pale and they were rambling on. What? Another plane hit the WTC? My friend called back to let me know that this was no mistake. We were under attack. My breathtaking sky was now the backdrop to smoke, ashes, horror and the last breaths of thousands of people.
Since I did work for a not-for-profit, we did not have luxuries like Internet or television to be able to watch the news coverage. However, Billy did need to shut up, as we needed to listen to the news on the radio. As I look back now, I am glad that I did not have a television to see the 2nd plane hit or the towers fall. At least when I did see it happen, I knew it was coming.
Maybe another day I will write all the details of the day; that is if I ever really remember them. It really is a blur. I remember no cell phones or LAN lines working all day in New York. No way to find out if your friends and family were safe. There were so many people who were lucky to get out of the city that day, even if it did take them 15 hours and they were as dirty as could be. Meanwhile while so many were fleeing, Firefighters and Police were leaving their safe homes and heading in to try and save their brothers and those that they dedicated their lives to keep safe. The highways were closed to the rest of us.
After leaving work and stopping at my parent's house to check in, I arrived at my apartment. I spent the next 12 hours glued to news coverage, listening to helicopters and military planes fly overhead, and reminding myself not to think about what that smell was that was lingering in the air.
For the next few weeks (or longer), the average New Yorker lived in a Zombie like state. Some were consumed with news coverage. Some were angry. Some were searching for their loved ones that were still missing. Some found God. Many were attending funerals. Many were looking for someway to payback. Most gave in any way we could to neighbors and charities that needed our help. All of us cried. All of us were looking for reasons why.
Commuting on Long Island is a nightmare that could turn the most calm person into a road rage offender. But during those weeks, drivers were courteous and I received many friendly hellos from strangers, which I had never seen before on LI. However, for weeks the commutes were worse than ever. You could not drive without running into a funeral procession or hitting traffic by a funeral home or fire house. Those purple flags hung for months on each fire house. However, I did not want to go to the Railroad station. There, you would see THEIR CARS. The cars that were there last time you were there... in the same spot. The ones that their owners left behind on that Tuesday Morning and never came back for.
The one sight that would lighten my mood was seeing my beautiful "Old Glory" everywhere I went. This Flag Day baby has never seen a more beautiful sight than the stars and stripes blowing in the wind. Every car, house, business, highway overpass... Everywhere you looked was the Red, White & Blue hung with pride. The one thought that made me feel better was knowing PaPa did not have to see what happened that day.
As with all things, time began to heal wounds. I don't believe they will ever completely be mended; For sure, the scars are deep. I am a lucky one. Of course, I know people whose journey ended that day but I did not lose a family member or a close friend.
However, something precious to me was taken from me on 9/11... blue skies. For eight years I have never seen a more beautiful sky than I did that morning. Any one that has even come close quickly reminds me of that day and shrouds me in sadness, even if only for a few minutes.
In my mind I have fought this. I don't want to give that to those who attacked us. One day, I will look at a blue sky and just bask in it again. The only thing that could make that day better was if while doing so I saw American Flags hung with pride for no reason. If people where just proud to be Americans because of our history, present & future... not because someone punched us in the eye.
I look forward to that day. But tonight, I make the decision to not let them take football from me as well. Even as Harry just sang the Star Spangled Banner in his fabulous voice, just as he began to sing "Recipe for Love" that morning. I remember that day and send my prayers to all those who lost their life that day. But I will not let terrorists win anymore.

"Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning)"
By Alan Jackson
Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Out in the yard with your wife and children
Working on some stage in LA
Did you stand there in shock at the site of
That black smoke rising against that blue sky
Did you shout out in anger
In fear for your neighbor
Or did you just sit down and cry
Did you weep for the children
Who lost their dear loved ones
And pray for the ones who don't know
Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble
And sob for the ones left below
Did you burst out in pride
For the red white and blue
The heroes who died just doing what they do
Did you look up to heaven for some kind of answer
And look at yourself to what really matters

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love

Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day
Teaching a class full of innocent children
Driving down some cold interstate
Did you feel guilty cause you're a survivor
In a crowded room did you feel alone
Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her
Did you dust off that bible at home
Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened
Close your eyes and not go to sleep
Did you notice the sunset the first time in ages
Speak with some stranger on the street
Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow
Go out and buy you a gun
Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watching
And turn on "I Love Lucy" reruns
Did you go to a church and hold hands with some stranger
Stand in line and give your own blood
Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family
Thank God you had somebody to love

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love
The greatest is love
The greatest is love
Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day

Roll With The Punches

My whole life I have heard the term "Roll with the Punches."   Although I never really thought much about it, the way I have always heard it used is to adjust when things don't go your way.  I know I have said it plenty of times when life threw me curve balls, as simple as getting a flat tire to more monumental events in life.  I've used the expression meaning to not freak out but rather keep focused and move on.

The etymology of the phrase is boxing.  The roll is when you move when you are going to get hit to avoid absorbing the full effect of the punch.  You may be able to roll and completely avoid the punch, but if you don't, at least you can lessen the impact.  I know my trainers will now have to correct me on my definition of a "roll" because I'm sure I'm not explaining it 100% correctly. 
I, admittedly, am not always the best at "rolling with the punches" in life.   Eventually I do roll, but often I first pause.  I take time to feel my emotion(s).  I may get frustrated. I may panic.  I may take time to complain about it not being fair.  I will often cry.  And that pause causes the hit to come straight on ... with full power.  To my credit, I never fully quit, I adjust and continue on.  That is what survivors do. 
I always felt tough being a survivor... being able to take a punch and move on.  The past year I have learned that there is more inside me than surviving.  I've been introduced to a fighter.  The boxer doesn't just take the hit and move on.  S/He tries to identify the upcoming punch before it happens and rolls to minimize that impact.  I've learned to try and identify what is going to come at me and then develop a plan on how to handle it.    This is a change I am trying to make on both bigger issues in life, but also in day to day activities. 
The second part of executing a good roll is not just moving on, but coming back with a counter punch/combination that makes them pay for the attack they just attempted on you.  This is also some of the fighter I have found inside me.  There is a great lesson I have learned in not just moving on from a difficult day or situation that I didn't avoid.  Instead of just moving on when life kicks me in the ass, I strive to kick life's ass by being better than the day before I got knocked down. 
On my fitness journey, this fighter mentality has assisted me greatly.  Starting with the roll, I have begun to really identify triggers that set me off course.  I have also begun to plan how I will handle my diet when out of my normal routine, instead of using the change in plans as an excuse to have a cheat day.
But when I do take the punch (lessened impact or not), I come back swinging.  So many of my healthy routines ended because I had one bad day.  That one bad day was often something I could not forgive myself for or move on from because a cheat day was often more comfortable for me.  Now, I've learned that although I stumble, I can still win the lifelong fight I'm in.
As I continue on my path of unleashing that inner fighter inside me,  I am learning more and more about myself and how bad I want to box out of the shell I've lived in.