My people.

I got talked into something AGAIN.


I think the blog about " no" was spawned from this occasion. My friend wanted me to go to her friend's birthday party and I really didn't want to go. I was tired, I was starting to get sick and it was at a singles bar. I don't do crap like that anymore. I don't need to relive my youth. I lived it well.

She says "We just go there to dance and its lots of fun. There are lots of people our age and there are tons of fat people there."


WHAT? I don't need to hang with my "own" people. My people are any size or shape. I don't care if there are big people there or not. What was she getting at?

I tried to say no, maybe two hundred times. She keep pushing.

No didn't work for me again.


The evening started out ok, we went to dinner. I had pasta, which makes me happy. We drove to the singles bar, and from the moment I entered the door I knew I was not going to enjoy myself. I wasn't feeling well, I was tired and I just didn't want to be there. I felt forced to be there. So I guess I was annoyed in the first place.


The other girls were stoked to be there, they even had a place they normally stand at. I was wearing heels so I determined that standing was not an option. The music was playing and it was quiet at first, but by 11pm the place was packed. I was drinking Bud Lite Lime and listening to the few songs I knew. The rest was this dance crap I couldn't stand. FUN FUN FUN!!

My friend and the Birthday Girl wanted to dance to Lady GaGa. I really didn't want to and said No. Well, we all know that "No" doesn't work for me in this life. So on the dance floor I was. In heels. In the middle. In Hell.

You all know I am fluffy. I am not bad looking, I carry myself with confidence. I am sure that being funny and outgoing and not afraid to say what is on my mind keeps me in a safe place as far as being fluffy goes. The two other girls I was with on that dance floor are fluffy as well, not as outgoing as me and don't have that confidence I do. To the bullies and wolves they look like an easy mark, an innocent sheep that can be devoured.

Sure enough  a lone wolf came onto the dance floor. He started to pretend to grind himself on the behind of the birthday girl. She rolled her eyes and ignored him and tried to laugh him off. Then wolf went to my friend, pretending to slap her ass and making a great show of being a pig. Then wolf looked over at me and found himself staring into the eyes of another wolf, wearing sheep's clothing. I had that look that said "If you take one step towards me it will be your last." So the wolf tucked his tail between his legs and ran off the dance floor back to his den of wolves that were laughing and snickering at our flock of sheep.


RAGE. I was so angry I could have been the cause of global warming.

I took some cleansing breaths.

I went to my happy place.

I listened to my body.

It said kill.

I ignored my body.
I looked over to my comrades, to see if I had a pack of my OWN wolves, to go to battle with me, to make us some wolf coats and fine wolf boots and what I saw was two sheep. They were a little angry. Annoyed at being made fun of but ready to go back to our spot and drink it off.

I blinked.


All the fight went out of me. I felt this cold pain in my heart and it cooled me down to a place where I accepted it. I looked over at the wolves den and I lost my courage. I may have been a wolf, I may still be a wolf, but I have this sheep suit on and it kinda makes me ...a sheep. With all my heart I wanted to protect these girls to stop people from hurting them, but in the end, I am a wolf wearing a sheep suit. Who takes a wolf in a sheep suit seriously? Nobody.


I went home that night, cuddled in with Jon and thought about how lucky I am. I have gone 13 years without feeling bad about being fluffy, being fat, and I have never felt embarrassed about it, or sad or angry. That night changed me. I was ashamed to be fluffy. I was ashamed to be a sheep. I may be confident and strong willed and a fighter, but that night I was more sheep than wolf.



I wish I fought for us all that night. Not with fists or yelling matches, not that kind of fighting, but with courage and confidence. I should have gone to wolves den and spoke up about the insult, dealt with the leers and howls from the wolf pack. I should have been an alpha wolf and protected my pack. My people. The Fluffy. The Sheep.



Oh I will now. I will do it as a sheep. I will do it as a wolf, but from now on, I will do it.


Until they can do it for themselves.


Woof. Baahhh. Woof.

Road to recovery

Well since I have been feeling like a piece of crap lately I decided to try a few new things to get back on track. My dear friend Dannielle sent me some information on a natural way to lose weight and to feel great. I went to my first appointment on Monday, I was sick and feverish but I thought it was important to go. I am sure glad I did.


I am embarking on a journey which includes acupuncture, vitamin b shots, eating well, and exercise. I just want to feel better more than anything else. I know I am seasonally depressed. The last couple cold days of winter are painful. I am so lame. I don't even want to hang out with me. I am tired and sluggish and just grouchy. I need some sunshine. I need some warm breezes of spring. I just need different than cold and overcast.

I'm sorta excited to start this program. I love programs. I will also add my new knowledge from that book I have been reading. Its called Women, Food and God. AMAZING!! So full of insight. I am a very fast reader and this small book has taken me weeks because it is so freaking deep. It says that emotional eating is an addiction like all the others out there. You need to handle it by listening to what your body actually wants and only eating that. I have learned that my body actually has no desire for cheese doodles...weird huh? Thought I would beg to differ with my body and got the craps for my trouble. Stupid body plays dirty. Really dirty.


Even though I feel like a slug right now, I know that it's because I am going through a growth spurt. My soul is growing because I am healing, and healing anything drains you. How exciting to see the product of this growth spurt. I will probably feel like a million bucks when it's all said and done, maybe I might be able to do some work towards the stage, or more importantly I might just feel at peace with myself. MMMMMM SWEET PEACE.



Yesterday while I was snoozing in my bed I had a dream about my brother. It's been a while so I thought he forgot the address. In the dream he said to me " I missed you Nell, I missed the fearless and crazy sister I left behind. Its good to see you again. Be fearless. Be crazy. Be my Nell." Then we clunked beer mugs together ( I always see him in a pub) and we both drank to better times ahead. Waking up from that dream I felt so many things, super excited that I saw Jay, super scared that I was challenged to be fearless, and confused because I am CRAZY. How much more crazy does he want me??!! Lonnie bin crazy??!! Then I figured it out, he wants me to be crazy enough to beat my fears, pound down doors to get noticed, get on that stage with a devil may care attitude and freaking own my talent!!


I'm on my way, every day I am getting stronger and stronger. I'm forgiving myself my faults, I am getting more confident to take risks, I'm learning how to use better judgement and most importantly I'm leaning on others like I have never done before. I hear people's stories and I trust them with mine. Terrifying. I have been very private for a long time so its a work in progress but I am sorta loving it. I just want everyone to know I'm in a restful state and will probably not be going too far from my home. I just need to listen to my body and reflect and prepare for changes. THAT, and if I don't do my laundry soon I may have to hire some monkey;s to do it for me and they always mix colors with whites. Damn monkeys. I actually wish I could hire some monkeys. I know they fling poo but at least my clothes would be spring fresh...for a while. I might have to wear my clothes inside out tomorrow for work.

SIGH.
Road to recovery better lead to the laundry room first.

Life and future later.

Beat it Mr. Negative

Man have I been burned out lately. I guess sharing on here sometimes will drain me. I had to just step away for a while and reflect.


Sometimes during that reflection I would hear that stupid voice that resides in my head and hates its landlord. That voice will stay up all night just make you feel like a piece of crap. My voice says things like you should get out of bed and help with the kids. Only lazy horrible mothers stay in bed when they are sick. Did your mom stay in bed when she was sick? No she sure didn't. Guess your not as good as she was. Stupid voice. I should evict it. Well, I have actually evicted it, but it won't leave. So I guess Voice is a squatter. Stupid voice squatters.

I'm not the only one that listens to that voice, my friend Wendy was just listening to that sultry voice the other day. It told her that she didn't deserve that beautiful egg she found. (BTW that guy she is dating is looking more and more like her golden egg) The voice told her that she will probably screw it up and that she wasn't worthy of it. She called me that night and we went through what she has done to be ready for this wonderful guy. She has become strong and independent, she has learned to love her life just the way it is, she has become secure with herself. No man can ever take that away from her again, because she is in full ownership of her heart and soul.


That's the way it should be, we own our heart and soul and we only allow a person to reside there. If someone doesn't treat it with respect and dignity then they should be evicted. All this nonsense of giving your heart and soul to someone is crazy. No one should be in control of the main part of your entity, it is only yours and only you can love and nurture it well. If you give that to someone else then you are asking someone that doesn't know your essence to run your life. There is no way that person knows where you have been and where you would like to go. I told her to tell that voice to shut the hell up, you won't screw this relationship up, it's being built with boundaries, and with respect and with honesty, that is a good recipe for success.


Trying to change your life is difficult enough without Mr. Negative lurking around. Every time I start to believe that I will be able to get this career off the ground, that voice comes along and gives me doubts. Those doubts are legit, for sure. The stand up industry is very competitive and takes a lot of work to get into the fold. Right now, I am very exhausted and stressed and unable to really find the passion I need to get this going. I am listening to my body right now, I am resting I am reflecting and I am dreaming big. I feel that's is a really good start.


Somehow I have to get my positive voice to be louder than Mr. Negative voice. I am not a horrible mom because I am sick. I am not a loser. I am not lazy. I am just sick, tired and overwhelmed. END OF STORY. Seeking perfection is crazy. There is no such thing as perfection. There is only perfect for you, and perfect for me right now is in bed, sick, tired and unable to perfectly run this household. I still get up and get the kids ready in the morning, I still put them to bed at night, I still love them all, I just can't do any extras right now.



So Mr. Negative, I am in control of this heart and soul I hear it needs to recoup and rest. I do hear I should do some laundry before my kids start wearing things inside out to pass as clean. I will probably do some today. Hopefully. No I will!!

So Mr Negative, BEAT IT!

Words of wisdom. Part one.

Since I have lived such a crazy life you would assume I would have come upon some wisdom. I sure have, and I would like to share it with you, so that you won’t make some of the mistakes I have made.
Here we go.

1. Never microwave hubba bubba, it doesn’t do anything and when you go to pick it up it molds to your fingertips causing removal of fingerprints. Good if you’re a criminal, bad if you like having fingerprints.

2. Micro waving a banana sounds like a ton of fun, and it is until it starts expanding and blows up causing the door to open and a magma of hot banana lava to come flying through out the kitchen. Bad burns. Big mess. Big bad trouble from mom.

3. When nursing a hang over don’t chug orange juice and then follow it with milk, it doesn't taste like a creamsicle. AT ALL.

4. Eating a whole watermelon and then going on a hike is a bad idea.

5. Don’t trust your friends when they tell you there is a way to un-stick your tongue from a frozen pole, there isn’t a way other than ripping your tongue away and leaving a taste bud pelt on the pole.

6. Never drink orange juice when healing from a pole dare.

7. Never suggest using lemon juice as an aftershave because it smells nice. It causes redness of the face, from yelling at you with a sizzling face, but he did smell nice.

8. Do tell your brother there is a way to un-stick your tongue from a frozen pole, makes for a great afternoon of laughter.

9. Do tell your bother that the best thing to make a tongue dare feel better is an orange juice smoothie, actually don’t, he spews it all over the kitchen and BOTH of you have to clean it up.

10. Don’t carry eggs in your backpack because you and your friends are going to go egging after school, ruins your “not done” homework. Although it IS a good excuse. Ok do it.

11. Don’t lick the lid of a frozen juice container, read #5. It applies.

12. Never stick your hand into things that are narrow, I have been stranded hundreds of times with my hand wedged in cabinet door handles, between the fridge door and freezer door gap, and many separator bars at malls. It takes time out of your life you just can't get back.

13. Children are attracted to maxi pads with wings. They stick nicely to walls, windows that face the neighbor’s house and look like birds so they “fly” them around the house.

14. When you find your child that thinks margarine is cream and is covered from head to toe, never pick them up with out assistance, they are slippery little suckers oh and bathing them only repels the water so you have to use Sunlight to remove the margarine. Oh and Sunlight burns their eyes when it drips in them. Watch for the eyes.

15. When you lick the top of donuts they stick to walls nicely and make great artwork.

16. When using bakers food coloring, you only use once small drip from a toothpick, not 7 full squirts. It dyes your children’s mouths and teeth blue for a week. BRIGHT BLUE! Good thing I noticed it before I took my bite. I waited till they were done to share. That was a good idea, less wasted cake.

17. Telling your friend to punch you in the nose so you have an excuse to be late for class, only gives you a bruised nose…and friend.

18. Don’t jump from a two-storey house when you have a full bladder, because when you land on your ass and think you have internal injuries and scream like a banshee that your dying, your boyfriend will have a look and determine you pissed yourself. Nice in front of 15 of your friends from school. Doesn’t help with your popularity or you nick names. Peed Her Pants stuck.

19. When the guy you have a crush on finally smiles at you, and you have a cold, don’t smile back and breathe through your nose. Snot bubble girl suck too.

20. Some of your best experiments are best not explained to your mother. Eating a tank of fish while drunk was hard to explain when I thought I was dying from food poisoning.

Aren’t I a great source of knowledge?
My curiosity does get me into a lot of trouble. I hope someday I will out grow it and grow up. Doubt it though.

I don’t want to.

Be soft on yourself. You deserve it.

Be soft on yourself. You deserve it.

A good friend of mine said that today and it made me cry. I guess its because I want to get back on track so fast that I am trying to do a million things at once. I want to just fix everything. My past. My present. My future. It’s a huge undertaking. I have been very hard on myself. I have owned so much of my faults, and healed from them. Being soft on myself is something I have never considered. Owning my achievements is just as important to my progress. An AHA Moment!!! (I always wanted one)

Let me think. Damn thinking it hard when you’re emotional. Be soft Raquel. You can do it.

Ok. Be proud of me. I have survived insurmountable pain. I have lived through great loss.

I am not bitter and mean. I could have gone that way, but I didn't.

I am generous and giving.

I have raised some amazing kids...sometimes alone, always with struggle, but I did it well in spite of everything.
I have struggled to live on my own since I was 16. That takes courage and strength.

I make people laugh.

I decided I was worth saving. I decided others were worth saving too.

I am not the only one that screwed up in my life. Other people contributed to my mistakes, just because they don't own it, doesn't mean they aren't at fault.

Just because I didn't defend myself, doesn't mean that what they think is true. I just didn't engage. I couldn't. I was struggling to survive.
I'm loveable, sweet, and easy to talk to, understanding and kind.

I have made some really tough decisions in my life and did it alone.

I have the most amazing friends and family in the world. They wouldn't be here if I wasn't special.

I have grown into a very supportive and strong woman that can take on anything.

Today, and from now on, I will be soft on myself.

I deserve it.

The promise.

During this healing of my life, I have reflected on a lot of mistakes and taken ownership of them. One of mistake that keeps coming to my mind is my dad.

In order for me to come to grips with my relationship with my dad I, had to do some research on how he and I got to where we are.

Even though we started out with him losing a bet that I was a boy, we were sorta close until I became a teenager, then things went really bad. I was headstrong, independent, hyper and impulsive and that drove him crazy. We constantly butted heads, mostly because we are so similar neither one of us would back down when battles began. My mom had to constantly mediate for us because we couldn't back off enough to make up. Mom would talk to Dad about making amends with me and Jason would talk to me about just not bring it on with Dad; neither of us listened to our "helpers".

My final act of rebellion was to run away after having a huge fight with my Dad. I left and didn't look back for a month. No call, no letter not a word. Looking back on that now, as a mother, I couldn't imagine what they went through. At 16, I didn't care. I was pissed off and didn't want to speak to my dad again. I see now that he wasn't himself then, he was unemployed, lost because he had to find himself again after losing his company, and plain mad at himself for letting his family down. That anger wasn't directed properly, but I understand not being in control of ourselves when we are in deep stress. Now. Its too bad kids don't have reason until they reach 22 or older. We would make a lot less mistakes if we could see the truth about our actions and consequence.

Things only got worse from there. Dad and I had laid the lines down for war, and we did it hardcore for 20 years. While I was making horrible decision after horrible decision I was making him madder and madder, how could his kid be such a train wreck? The more he got mad the more I hid or kept things from him, my Mom kept things from him to keep the peace, but peace never happened. Every mistake I made ended up with him finding out and being more disappointed in me, I hated living with the disappointment. I still do. What I haven't done is try and make it better. I have allowed this relationship to stay crappy, because I was afraid that I couldn't fix it. I didn't know how to fix it. Where to start after two decades of war?

Those were the questions I had in my head when my mom was dying. I wondered how in the world am I going to live this life with Dad, the only survivor of my past, who only remembers the terrible because that is the only part I let him see. I remember holding my mom's hand and trying to give her some of my strength so she wouldn't leave me with him. "Mom" I thought. "Don't leave me with him, he hates me"

Later that day my mom woke up for a while and asked to talk to me. I sat down beside her and she held my hand and said to me,

" Promise me something?"

I nodded.

"Promise me you will never quit on your father?"

I groaned. " Are you kidding me mom? That is the worst promise you could ask me to make!! Ripping my own teeth out would be easier, I will get the pliers, but to not quit on him...I can't...I just can't. He hates me. He doesn't know who I am? He makes me hate myself!! "

"Faye, I wish I could take him with me, he will be so lost without me, but I can't. You will be all that he has, you and your kids. Your dad loves you, he doesn't know how to talk to you or to tell you but he really loves you. I promise you that." She was crying, it was so important to her.

So I promised.



What a ride that has been, let me tell ya. It’s been a roller coaster of emotion. I love him, I hate him, I want to drown him, I love him. I want to tamper with his car...something like that. We tried to work together for a while, that was a bad idea, maybe the worst idea ever. I quit by having another child and emailing him that if I wanted to keep my promise to my mom, we better part ways as co-workers, which came after almost a year of silence.

I was talking to one of my dad's friends the other day and she said that I need to either write him or have a meeting with him and admit that I disappointed him. Admitting it will set me free. I own so much, but that one I didn't want to touch, but I think I can now.

I disappointed my dad.

Ouch.
I never wanted to do that. I just did.

I love my dad. I really love him, I have my whole life. When I talk to my dad and we are connecting its the same rush to me as a bungee jumper gets after the big jump. He makes my heart sing and he just warms my soul. My humor is directly from him. He makes me laugh so hard I tear up, that isn't easy to do to a comedian. I miss him. I want us to be the way we where before I screwed up. I have to make the first move.

I know he doesn't read this blog. I hope someday we get to a place where I would show him. Until then I guess I will say it here.
I am sorry Dad.
I love you.

I hope you know it.
You will be proud of me again.

I promise.

The Art of No

We all have a problem with no, it seems unkind so we try not to use it.

I think its unkind to make people say yes all the time. We have to have balance. I have not felt ok saying no ever. I always try to take on everyone's wants and needs and then I end up with my own left unfufilled. Not cool. So today my friends I am learning the art of no.


The Art of No.
 By Raquel Smith.

No is a word that should not offend anyone.

No is a word that stops activities that someone doesn't want to do at that time.

No doesn't mean I don't love you or care about you. It just means I care about myself too and need to take care of me.

No is a final statement. It should be taken without having to justify it. Accept it.

No should never be made to change to a yes. Someone who has said no, has usually listened to themselves and made the statement with honesty. Allow them to be honest with you.

No is empowering and should be used more. It says I have enough on my plate and I can't take on more. Honour that statement.

No is a very hard word to say. Practice saying it. It is nessessary for Balance.

No needs you to stand by it. Don't ever waiver with it. It needs your support so you continue to have it to use. If you allow someone to take away your no, you have taken its power away. Don't take No's power away. You will need it to be one of the most powerful words you say.

With every no you say, make sure in the future you open your heart to a lot of yes, just make sure there is an even balance.

I hope I hear this and do it. I hope that some people that are reading this listens to it and accepts no for themselves and accepts it from others, because it just has to happen.

 We want to be honest with each other and no is a huge part of that honesty. It's saying I love you and trust you enough to say no to you, without excuse without having to explain. I can just say it and I know you will accept it and still love me tomorrow. AHHHH imagine how sweet that will be.

So because I love you all....

NO.

It goes by too fast.

Enjoy it now because it goes by too fast. I kept hearing that from cute little old ladies. They looked down at my children and then would state that to me. Goes by too fast??!! Are you kidding me??!! At that time it felt like it was dragging on and on. Getting up at night with a barfing toddler that woke up his baby sisters, running after a child that was "bathing" the kitty, unplugging the toilet after they flushed their mittens and a toque, finger prints on walls, food stuck inside the couch, fingers slammed in doors, heartbreaks, puberty, learners licenses, stepping on Lego pieces that always finds that nice soft spot between the toes. Yeah lady it’s flying by!!!! I always felt like throwing a baby bottle or a full diaper at their wise and annoying faces. Stupid wise women.

I remember being with "T". He was 17 years old and he says "Mom, me and my girlfriend are going to have sex soon, so I was wondering if..." I started to try the door. It was locked. I clawed at the window. " Mom knock it off, we have to talk about this" I slumped in the seat. "Fine." I said "But don't ask me anything about birth control, that is obviously not my area of expertise" He rolled his eyes. "No Mom, I just don't want to...you know... hurt her, so what do I do?" Hell. This is hell. Some how I died and I was in hell.

"Mom, pay attention and quit saying oh my god."

What does he want from me? Some technique? Advice on sex? WHAT??!! So this is what came out of my mouth. " Know this son, its going to suck. Everyone's first time sucks. Your going to be clumsy, your going to lay on her hair, your going to not know where things go, you'll take half an hour to put on a condom...YOU WILL WEAR A CONDOM and when its all said and done, there will be no romantic music playing and a moment where you will feel like the world aligned. You will actually lay there and say.." is that, what everyone goes on about?" First times are a disaster, but if you get through it together and can actually talk about and get past it, both of you will get better at it." "T " Thought about it for a while. The car was silent. I stared out the window, wishing for a metor to land on us when "T" finally said " Does it have to suck?" "Yes" I said. "It can go less crappy then the average, but it rarely is wonderful until you grow up inside." Silence again.

"Thanks Mom."

"Welcome Son."

Then I said "T?"

He said "Yeah?"

I said " Don't you have some locker buddies to go over this stuff with?"

"T" says "Yeah but what do they know about not hurting a girl?"

"Good point."

"Yeah"


Being close in age with your child has its benefits but it comes with a cost of them being able to talk to you about anything. Horrifying. THIS was NOT in the manual. Stupid parents manual. I should drop kick this manual into my neighbor’s lawn.

Trevor graduated two years ago this June. On his graduation day he was so handsome, dressed in a white tux. He was annoyed with the heat in the place. So was I. He had saved a seat for me in the front. I was there with all his siblings, watching him up there with his friends. Grown up. I suddenly started to cry. Trevor was grown up, he was embarking on his own life now. My job was changing now for him. I was going to mentor him now, not raise him. I had raised him. "Tiny" reached up and wiped my tears. I looked down at her and it hit me. It does go by fast, too fast.

Amanda is graduating this year; I went with her to buy her grad dress. She beamed with joy when we found the right one. She hugged me when we made the payment. I stared at her in amazement. I just finished raising her too. Where has all the time gone? What happened to that little girl with blue eyes and blond hair that would run around the neighborhood naked? What happened to little bald "T" and his Osh Kosh overalls? The babies that would never grow up, did.

I look back at those old ladies, who don't look so old now, and I realize they were right. 17 years did fly by. I do know this too; I didn't let it get away from me.

I did enjoy it.

Listen to your body

So I picked up that book by the author of that Good Housekeeping article, the book is called Women, Food and God. It’s a book that has changed me in so many ways, its like it was written just for my journey and me.
Anyways, it says to meditate and listen to what your body is saying. First, I am hyper active, so slowing down my mind to listen to a body that chooses to just follow along with me on my over eating endeavors isn't an easy task.

 For the first 10 minutes I closed my eyes and heard my tummy growling and could smell Cheese Doodles. I tried harder. I listened to my heartbeat, its erratic, like me. I felt my head on the pillow, felt it wasn't comfy enough so I fluffed it into a ball and lay down again. I breathed deeply; I scratched an itch, picked my teeth, thought about my secret stash of cheese doodles. I got up and looked for the doodles. I must have eaten them. Now I am annoyed. I don't even remember eating them. I start thinking about how to get some more. Maybe I moved them. Looked around again for them. Found the empty bag. Ate the dust on the bottom. Lay back down. Sighed 9 times. Then tried to listen again.

At first it was just a whisper. It said I'm not hungry. I am pretty content to not have the doodles thanks. Then it got louder. Since your listening, I have a few complaints. My knees, feet and back hurt. We can't carry this weight forever. My stomach hates protruding out. My arms are heavy and tired. My mind is unfocused, restless and cautious. My heart is sad, tired, lost and scared. It’s telling me that I am healing though, it feels ok to express my feelings, it’s willing to try and open up a little. My stomach also wants me to stop eating the things that make it sick and bloated. Milk, argh, meat, argh, bread, argh... and cheese doodles. ARGH. My body tells me that with everything I lost, I never lost hope, and its there cheering me on. How the hell did Hope survive this all? The loudest thing my body said was I am tired. Let me rest. I need you to not expect everything to begin at once, like you usually do. Start slow. Slow down and let this happen slowly. You’re working from the inside out. Heal your heart, your mind, you soul, and then work on the outside. This body will carry you until you can carry yourself.

I opened my eyes. Tears were streaming down my face, I could feel the warmth of my body, and it was glowing with hope. I could hear my heart, beating with hope. I could taste the salt from my tears it tasted like hope. I still have hope. I can do this. I can heal. I can focus. I can listen. I can live again.

I got up from my bed, was tangled in the blankets and wiped out. I got up and went to mirror. I was all disheveled and red eyed. I looked scared and sad. Then I noticed the cheese doodle bag was stuck to my shirt. I crumpled it up. Threw it in the garbage beside my nightstand and paid attention to my body's request to not have more tonight. I splashed some water on my face; I enjoyed the feel of the cold water on my hot face. I could smell the lotions and put some on, and actually felt excited to be listening to my body's requests. My tummy growled again. WHAT DO YOU WANT!!?? A hug, it said. So I went downstairs and found Jon, and hugged him. My tummy felt full.

So did I.

Dear World

Dear World,


Can you let me walk to my van just once without slipping on ice and sliding across the van that I haven't washed since Christ was a boy.

Can I make it onto Deerfoot without calling another driver a Douche bag?

Can I drink one beverage without wearing most of it on my boobs?

For one day can I think before I speak?

Can you make it so I don't feel like crap when I drink milk? I miss milk. One day with Milk!!!

Can you let a couple pixies at the gym wipe out on the treadmill? Nothing serious. Just a little wipe out.

Can you get my kids to pick up after themselves and maybe learn to cook?

Can you let me shave my legs just once without a gusher?

Can I not be a bleeder?

Can you help me with my laundry situation? Bring Holly back. She likes it. I miss her nice Bounce smell.

Can you give me a shitless cat. I hate the litter box duty.

Can my son call me when he doesn't need money or advice, because quite frankly, that is the blind leading the blind? I need money and advice!!

Can you help my husband choose when I don't look all puffy and sickly to want to get it on. I would like to have my hair done and some kind of eye cream on at least?

Can you make my taste buds enjoy salad?

Can you make it so cheese doodles don't interest me or lure me with its sexy curves and sweet soft cheese powder?

Can you just grow flowers in my garden? I don't know what is going on in that garden and I am scared to pluck the wrong thing so I let it have that...natural look...aka ugly. Weeds are sorta the master of disguises.

Can you make drinking wine acceptable in the work place?

Can you make Skor bars not cut up my tongue, same thing with salt and vinegar chips and sunflower seeds?

Can you help me put my fat suit on backwards? I miss tying my shoes and breathing at the same time, or picking up stuff on the floor.

Can you make it so nothing falls on the floor? Maybe on a nice table or shelving unit...but please not the floor.


Can you have this all done by the end of the day?

Love,

Raquel

The Golden Egg

We all have the Golden Egg in our lives, that one treasure we always want to reach out and get. For some of us its financial freedom, a new house, a family, love, acceptance, freedom.

My friend Wendy, for instance, she has always wanted a relationship and a family of her own. That Golden Egg avoided her like the plague. She had bad boyfriend after bad boyfriend. She never found a man that was her equal. She either found a broken, wounded work in progress, or a guy that she felt she didn't deserve so she spent her time in that relationship trying to prove she was worthy. I came on scene and watched my fair share of these losers come in and out of our lives. I told her that the moment she accepts that she really doesn't need the Golden Egg is when she will get it. When she loves just being her, and she becomes her own biggest fan that, is when The Golden Egg will arrive.

That is the key to all our hopes and dreams. Get to a place where you don't want it, when you accept that your always going to be ok even if things don't go your way. If your scared of money or not having enough. You have to get to a place where money doesn't determine your happiness or your life. If you are ashamed you don't own a house or a car, then you need to get to a place where a house and a car isn't important to you. If you live a life full of fear you won't be fearless and free.

That is my Golden Egg. Being fearless. I could have called this blog Fluffy Funny and Fearless, but that is a crock of shit. Many people have told me they admire how fearless I am. That I seem to make decisions that are hard to make all the time and I do it without fear. That simply isn't true. All my decisions I have HAD to make, have been made out of fear. I am scared of everything. I don't trust myself at all, I don't trust others so good either. I fear peoples rejection constantly, I fear being judged, I fear being without love, I fear being alone, I fear EVERYTHING. Stupid Golden Egg. I would love to drop kick that egg into my neighbors back yard, but then they would judge me as a bad neighbor and I'm FEARFUL of that!! I'm a disaster. Where was I going with this? I was talking about Wendy. I also fear having no attention span.

So Wendy embarked on the journey to be ok with herself, without Golden Egg. She spent a lot of time alone. She joined clubs and read a lot of books. She dated men but didn't want anything extra from them. She loved being with herself so much that having to impress a guy so he wanted her wasn't an option anymore. She raised her opinion of herself and prepared herself for the man she deserved. And you know what happened? The Golden Egg has made an appearance. He is in the form of a guy that has had a simular journey as Wendy, he has had to learn how to live for himself too, and he is willing to embark on a road with Wendy that will continue as long as they both feel happy. Perhaps the Golden Egg. I believe even if he isn't the said egg, he is a good step towards her greater good.

The Golden Egg and I, well we are working it out. Blogging on here has me facing some of my fears. I AM facing it though. That golden egg will arrive someday and I will stand on that comedy stage and I will be great, I will be happy and I will be surrounded with people who's opinions and judgments I don't care about. Ok that scared me.


This could take a while.

Dear Jason

When I first lost Jason I went to a grief counselor. I was told to write a letter to my brother and say goodbye to him, and tell him the things you will miss. I half assed it. I was pissed off and didn't want to be there. So I basically put. Dear Jason, hope things are good. See you there later. Raquel. I didn't take the homework seriously. I was annoyed to be put into the same group as someone that was mourning a cat or a distant cousin. Listening to them mourn annoyed me. I didn't want to hear it. So I didn't cooperate at all during any of it and soon I just stopped showing up at all.

I can see why I should have written that letter. I would have had a chance to say the words that I never got to when he was alive. I could have maybe mourned him properly instead of the crazy way I did it. Since I am now trying to do things the right way, I suppose I should do this letter. Here I go. This should be crappy.

Dear Jason,

Merk. This is the word we gave each other to say I love you. It was a word we said so no one else but us knew what we meant. Our secret.

Growing up with you was amazing. Having your best friend around all the time kinda rocked. I told you all my secrets, you told me all yours. We played a billions games and used our imagination like pros. We pretended to be detectives, cabbage patch dolls, stuffed animals, ninjas, WWF wrestlers( I was a good Sheik) and different characters we made up. We built forts in the snow, kites that never flew, and cards to say sorry to Mom for breaking something. We beat the crap out of each other when we fought, we would have an Indian wrestle to determine who was the better man. GI Joe was a blast. I loved being the bad guys and you the heroes. We both loved the action figures that were deformed and fought to the death to have them on our team. Our pets got dressed up in outfits and carted around the neighborhoods. We were business associates in our Kool Aid stand business, make a quick buck then hike to Macs together and made our favorite selections. Yours was always a slurpee and those pouches of powder with a dip stick and mine the slurpee and wigwag bar. We would eat our goods at the playground laying on the grass plotting our next adventure. Riding bikes with cards in the back tire to sound like a motorcycle. Wipe outs with skinned knees. I had the best childhood because of you.

Growing up we even became better friends. We had our own friends then, but mostly still hangout with each other. We would get up late at night and watch our favorite shows. Laughter was common with us both around. Man, Jason you were funny. You dated some of my friends. I dated some of yours. We both didn't like it. We drank our first beer together, snuck Dad's wine together. Smoked a tea bag together. (Do not try this at home)

When I ran away you understood. Everyday I wanted to phone you. But I never knew when you would be home by yourself. I called you one day after school and told you not to tell where I was. You didn't. You cried. You missed me. I cried. I missed you. Finally the day came, one month after I left, when you could come over and see me. I was watching out the window and saw you walking up. I ran out the door and hugged you so tight. Tears were streaming down both of our faces. You said to me, I will never forget. "Nell, never leave me again. If you have to leave, take me with you but never leave me. Promise me." I promised you. I should have made you make the same promise.

I became a mother shortly after that. You were a 15-year-old uncle. You helped me through that. I moved home. You and I talked a lot about how my life was going to change. You asked if I was scared. I was. You told me you would be there. You were. You loved your nephew with your whole heart. Took him downstairs to your room and played with him until he got grouchy. Everyday after school you would pick him up and spin him around and make him laugh. You were a great uncle.

I moved out again. You would come over and hang out. We would talk about your life, your goals. I would tell you about mine, my horrible relationship with our parents, my bad judgment, my secrets. You supported me in them even when they sucked. You questioned my bad ideas, but I did them anyways. You never judged me when I was wrong.

I decided I was in love and I got married. You were the Best Man. I cried that day when you signed the papers to give me my new name. I thought it was perfect. Having you do that. You helped raise me. You knew me the best. We had a great time at my wedding. You asked me to dance to the song " A Whole New World" a Disney song we both liked. It was perfect for us. Now I'm in a whole new world with you....me being married, you living on your own with Jenn, a new chapter in our lives.

I continued on in my life. I had three beautiful children. You were the first one there with Mom to welcome my children at the hospital. You held them and loved them all. You babysat.You spoiled them. You were proud to have them.

I know we fought, we hurt each other, I know my life impacted yours and not only for the better. I know I let you down sometimes. I know you let me down sometimes. Sometimes we were a real brother and sister. So I haven't made you into something you weren't.

I remember the last time I saw you. It was after Celeste's Wedding. I had MC'd it. I was great. I did the best I could. I was floating on air from that amazing performance. You came up to me and told me I did amazing. You were proud of me. That I should do stand up comedy for a living.You told me you were staying a little longer to see about a girl. I told you I would see you when you got back to Calgary. Before I left you called over to me, and I looked back. And across a busy room you said "Merk" I smiled back and said "Merk" back.

Merk. Jason. Merk.

Love your sister,

Raquel

Understanding this Blog

I think I need to explain why I am doing this. I have had some feedback that disturbs me and I want everyone to understand what it is I am actually doing here.

I am coming back from being dead inside. I am slowing weaving my life back. I have spent 13 years in total avoidance. I have tried to keep my life as private as possible so that I wouldn't be judged, or condemned or ridiculed. I hid so much of myself that I became something I'm not, isolated, afraid and lonely. The only thing I had left was hope. Hope is what kept me believing that I had a chance at this.

I want to be clear about one thing. I am not placing blame on anyone for my fall. The free fall I went though was supposed to happen. No one could have helped me. I would have pushed them away. I would have disappeared. I needed to figure this all out for myself. I needed to want to live again. Sure, some of you could have kept the wolves at bay while I was suffering. But dealing with the wolves has taught me that I am stronger than I give myself credit for. I can fight for this life. I want this life. I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy.
I was the best at pretending I was ok. I didn't want people too close, so I told them what ever it took for them to go away. I didn't want to risk the chance that I would love again, not with this heart.

I have been blessed with a challenging life. The lessons I have learned made me a person that I am so proud of. I have grown so much in these 13 years. I have learned that loving you is the toughest challenge of all, and that forgiving yourself is plain horrific.

This blog is putting out there my raw and unrestricted me. It is not a easy read, it's not an easy write, but it's honest. It’s helping me. I hope it helps you. If I am not helping or if I am making it hard for you on your journey please don't read it. All I want is to do well, for me and for everyone here.

I also want to thank you for encouraging me and being my greatest partner. I need you all now. I won't push you away. I will step into your fire if you need me or let you come dance in the fire with me.... I love you THAT much.

So this blog is my story. I'm done with hiding and with being ashamed. I am what I am and I love me in spite of me.

I am asking you to love me, in spite of me too.

God and I. The story of our lost friendship.

Growing up as a good Roman Catholic girl, I went to church every Sunday, went to a Catholic school, grew up praying and believing in God. I was told he was a patient and loving God, that would forgive me all my sins if I asked (that came in handy with my path) and was able to listen and hear me anytime any place. I loved him and trusted him to take care of me. I talked to him often growing up. Caught him up on all my shnanigans and plotted my next mischief with him. I asked for help with grades, help with my parents when I was in trouble. Asked him to make sure I was not killed for sneeking out at night and being caught. I thanked him for my family, my friends, my talents. (ouch that hurts a little more than I figured, talking about my talents.) You know. Good conversations. Do I talk to him now? No. I stopped talking to him Aug. 4, 1997.


Its still vivid that moment, my last conversation with God. I ran from my house when my mom told me that we lost our Jason. I dropped the phone to the floor and ran away. I ran from the pain, the anger, and the fear. I ran until my emotions made my heart beat so fast that I collapsed on the ground outside my friend Kristy's house. My friend Kristy who lived across the street from me ran outside and wrapped her arms around me and I said this "God took Jason from me!! God took my life today!! Why God??!! WHY!!!??" She picked me up and walked me home. Crying with me.

Glenn put me in the car and drove me towards the hospital where my parents were.

Where Jason was.
All the way there I cried. I decided to talk to God. He would save me. He loved me.

I closed my eyes. Tears streaming down my face. I folded my hands in prayer and this is what I said.
"I pray God for a miracle. I pray that you don't leave me alone in this world. I pray that you give my brother another breath. That he will still be here to love me. God I need love. I need his love. I can't survive without him. I can't survive without love. Please God if you love me, if you love this woman please don't leave me alone here. PLEASE DON'T let this happen. Please take me too if it you have to take him. Love me enough not to leave me here alone"

We all know the outcome of that day. My prayer wasn't answered. That was my final prayer, my last talk with God.

Here is the thing about God giving us our own free will. It was a precious gift that let us experience things that include all the emotions and feelings under the rainbow. But in giving us that gift he left us open for things we didn't want to experience, things HE didn’t want us to experience. This is what I have discovered. By giving us free choice he decided to let us live our own lives. Every time we pray to change something that is someone else’s free choice you are asking him to take that freedom from someone else.

The day I asked God to stop Jason's death I asked him to be in charge of Jason's choice. What I actually asked him to do was to take Jason's choice of his own death date away from him, to preserve me. That isn't fair. That isn't fair to Jason or God. The thing that hangs me up is did Jason choose that death date? Did he choose in that moment in the cold river water to go home to God to leave my parents, his friends, and me? I don't think I can handle that answer. So I choose to hear only what I want to. And that is nothing. Not really reasonable. But that’s the crapshoot of free choice.

So God isn't my foe. He never was. I may not find solace in praying to him right now. I hurt too much to do it. I don't know how to start our conversations now. I have nothing to say. I want to recover and heal and I know he is part of that journey. I am too busy living through my fear of being alone, my fear of being unloved, my fear of emptiness. I needed to do that alone.

I am getting to a place now, where I want help. Where I trust family and friends to help me and hold me up. I just had to dance in the fire alone for a while.

God is my friend, a friend that I need to heal enough to be with again. I will get there. I am on my way.

I know He is waiting for me.

Dear Jon

Dear Jon,
I just wanted to let you know I love you and here's why.

You let me be my honest me. I can be grouchy, I can be funny and odd, I can cry and be sad, I can rant and rave like a lunatic, I can laugh until my insides hurt and you stand strong. You know me and still love me.

You trust people with a totally clear heart. You are willing to hear their story and hear it with a trusting heart. I admire that. I wish I had that talent, or gift. I am too jaded. I believe trust is earned. You don't. You believe it's something that is given without question.

You love my children, my friends, my family. You didn't even know my mom, and you loved her. Held her hand when she was dying. Told her I would be ok so she could go home to God. You have held my children in happiness, in sorrow, in love. You treat my friends like siblings and make sure they are safe and sound. You’re accepting of my social network, even though you like being alone.

You want me to succeed. You wish the best for me. You want me to heal and move on. You have never had sorrow or pain so it must be hard for you to relate, but you do. You take my recovery from the "great sadness" seriously. Supporting me, challenging me. You never met Jason, but you love him, and understand our bond and its break. I love you for that.

I am sorry I don't appreciate you enough. Sorry I take my time telling you your greats. Sorry I haven't made loving me easy. I will do better now.
Thank you for being a great dad. Loving our kids without hesitation. All 6. They love you too.

And last but not least, thank you for accidentally falling into my life when I needed you most. I could not have survived without your compassion, your smile, your warm arms and your love.

Raquel

Eureka!! I am on to something!!

This is new to me so, bare with me.

"Ending your food obsession is all about learning to stay in the present moment"

OMG that is good. I was in the grocery store and looking at the Impulse Buy Shelf, choosing my impulse of choice when I saw the Good Housekeeping Magazine. First, I don't like housekeeping so I normally avoid this magazine, but for some reason I picked it up and threw it on the stack of snacks I was buying.

I was flipping through it this morning and found this article called: Sit. Stay. How to stop using food as an escape, and holy crap it’s amazing. Its like it was written for me but the reason I am sharing it, is because I think it’s for us all.
There is a quote I found profound. Its about knowing what to do when your going through terrible loss. She says this. " You stay with yourself. You sob, shout, feel as if you heart has a boulder crashing through it. You sit with your father. You listen to his sorrow, You get help from your friends. You notice that at the end of every day your still alive. And you especially notice that when you don't use food to shut yourself down, to leave your body, you actually feel more alive." Does that speak to me or what?!!
Not bolting-being awake without being drugged by food, alcohol,work,sex,money,drugs,denial,televison (whatever you use to keep from looking at what’s hard or hurtful) is definitely asking a lot. But staying where you are with what you feeling is the fist step in ending the obsession with food. Staying requires awareness of the desire to bolt, of the stories you tell yourself about the need to bolt. Staying means recognizing that when you want to bolt, you living in the past. Staying requires being curious about who you actually are besides just a collection of memories. Who are you when you sense yourself directly, immediately, right now, without preconception?
"That's when you'll discover if you stay: The you who is not your past, not your habits, not your compulsion. When you get to know that person, everything becomes possible, even living through astonishing pain.

You'll find then that feeling anything, including grief, is different from what you thought it would be. You'll find that you living a bigger life: one that includes vulnerability but also strength; one with a changed landscape-wider, richer, breathtaking. A life so wonderful you won't want to get out of it."

Good God, I am MADE of habits, compulsion...my past. Who am I without that? My true self.

Well I guess its time to get to know me. Me without the baggage. Me without fear. Me without hiding.

Let me introduce you. War weary, sad, hopeful me. Meet new hopeful, satisfied me.

I hope you get along.

Operation: To boldly go where I used to be.

Ok its time to get this fat suit off!! I wish it was as easy as putting it on.

I just wish I didn't freaking love it so much. I mean I really love it. I love the soft fluffy curves, I love being outrageous and voluptuous. I really honestly do. Jon loves me this way, my friends love me this way. My kids call me Fluffy mommy. They don't remember me thin. Well maybe "T" does and maybe "A" Did you guys notice that my kids names spell TAMEAR.HA HA HA. Ok Raquel focus.

I don't think I remember being thin either. I actually relate to me fluffy better than thin. I am larger than life in personality I guess I should be larger than life in body too. Too bad diabetes kills and my heart is weak and I have that cancer bug hanging around. I guess that makes it a little hazardous for my health.

What I don't love is getting on a treadmill. I dislike the gym and its smell. I dislike trainers trying to sell you personal training. I know how to get it off. I just don't like it. It takes work, organization, commitment, patience, self-control and pure determination. All things that I don't specialize in. I actually suck so bad at those things I could get a metal in Women’s 100 meter avoidance. I wouldn't get gold because I couldn't possibly try at it so I would place a good healthy bronze. Natural talent goes a long way. And I have been this disaster since...well birth.

Wendy and I were talking about this yesterday. She always tells me that I am too hard on myself. I know I am. She told me that I am actually pretty hard working, I do organize pretty good, and I am committed to my family and my life. I wouldn't have come this far if I wasn't. I have patience, tons of it she says. 6 kids. One woman. Takes patience. Jon takes patience. He is a goofball that is learning how to manage a large family, he goes to a job he hates everyday, he is a dreamer, he is where organization goes to die and to top it all off he moves at the pace of a wounded snail. My PATIENCE has kept us all alive. Wendy always puts things in to perspective. Of course we never touched on self control. That is one thing I can't control. Being random. Stupid random. For those of you that have known me my whole life we all know I am not one for self control. And no I can't learn it either. It doesn't take. Do I really need it to get into shape? Hope not. Because I HAVE to get into shape. Stupid shape. I am in shape. Apple or ball is a shape.

Where to begin on this journey??!! What will it take to begin again. First I have to not be so freaking tired. I have to get onto a good sleep pattern. Second. Figure out what I love to do that’s active and start doing it. NO IDEA what that is. Swimming I guess. Running maybe. Weight training in the pump class...yes. I did love that class.

Eating right is a pain in the ass. Even when I was in perfect shape, I ate. I ate a full can of mushroom soup everyday after school. Then a big supper and then snacked on cookies before I fell asleep in a crumbly bed. I never had breakfast, mostly because I was always late for school or a job or something. My mom would send me to school with a lunch with a sandwhich a juice box, a fruit and cookies. Gone, if I remembered my lunch. Most of the time I mooched off my friends Sue or Dannielle or Tara, when they remembered to bring them. Sometimes we would gather money and go and get pizza at the pizza place. Again we walked or rode our bikes everywhere. So I guess it all worked out. I was also in sports and swimming and was naturally hyper so I burned what I ate.

Now I do next to nothing. So I guess my eating has to be watched. Right now I am eating left over pizza and eyeing a bag of cheese doodles. This will be work. Hard work. Salads piss me off. They get stuck in my teeth and they are floppy. I hate floppy food. Maybe I should just work out 24 hours a day so I can eat what I want. Seems more reasonable.

I am open for suggestions. And I plan on starting this all tomorrow, or maybe the next day. Well I guess soon but not too soon.

Gotta work on that bronze.