I have a circle of friends of whom I adore.  Being the person I am, i like expanding the circle to include new friends and new experiences.  In walks Giselle, she is hip, cool, artistic and has depth of character beyond words.  She is a photographer just starting out in the business and I am going to school for web development.  I am excited about her work and offered to do a website for her.  We started collaborating on that and became closer as friends.  She really is awesome!

One friend in my circle was getting married at the end of August.  I adore her and felt that because she doesn’t have any family near by and her husband was being a bridezilla, that I wanted to give her the best present ever…

I told this to Giselle and though she didn’t know Rachel very well, decided to help me plan something spectacular in which all of the friends in the circle could help with!

Well, I spoke with the other gals in the circle and they agreed that it was an awesome idea!  The idea was to get Rachel and her new hubby a hotel room for the night and decorate it to the nines, complete with a snack tray, chocolate covered strawberries, champagne… the works!

Anyway, since Rachel is relatively new and was so gungho about the idea, some of the people in the circle were offended.  After all, THEY were the best friends… not this suzy-come-lately.

So the hotel thing worked out perfectly even though the others in the circle went their own way.  Giselle and I forked over the bulk of the money… but whatever.  It was totally worth it for me knowing that Rachel would be surprised and happy!

The next day (after the wedding… Rachel and her man went to the Justice of the Peace), Giselle and I planned the makeover for Rachel, a brunch in the park (with bagels and yummy mimosas) and some pictures.  I brought the party van and piled everyone in.  This was also told to other members of the circle who thought it was a fabu idea.

Things did not go according to plan and one friend in particular decided to step up and make decisions without telling Giselle or I.  Then, this person decided it would be a good idea to whisper and talk about Giselle with a few others, pretty much right in front of her, albeit behind her back.

It was a power play plain and simple.  I am a little angry at myself because I feel that I SHOULD HAVE stood up for Giselle.  Instead, to avoid conflict I tried to do whatever everyone else wanted to do.

Giselle put herself out there and got shot down because of pettiness, control and jealousy.

So that’s the story…. it really isn’t about what I said necessarily… but more or less what I didn’t say and what I should have said.

Still… where I am at right now with some of them really bothers me.

Why is it that when you think your heart is in the right place… it still ends up hurting people?  Why do I feel so darn responsible for the feelings of others in this situation?  Gah!  It is times like these where I semi-wish I were a man.  I could act and not dwell endlessly on how to interpret what someone said or how they said it.  That’s why I love hanging out with guys.  They are so simple and straight forward where it seems that women have hidden agendas all over the place.  What a woman says may not always be what she means or how she really feels.  It is a clusterfark.

I don’t really have a solution on how to handle this situation I have presently found myself in.  I know that I am acting with the complete goodness of my heart and while I may have made a couple of mistakes, really it was for the greater good.

*Sigh*… if you have any ideas on how to keep the harmony without being a complete doormat, let me know.  I think I may need to sign up for some classes.

Going through some of my not-so-proud moments, I realize that being insecure has been a driving force in many of my emotional reactions and decision-making process.

When I was 18 and halfway into my senior year at a community college, I was involved in a very lustful (thought it was real love at the time) relationship and decided to move in with him to another part of the state.  I did it because A)  He told me that if I didn’t he couldn’t see us lasting as long relationships are hard and B) I wanted the security of having him near.

As much as I would like to regret that decision, I can’t.  Had I not moved in with him and let things disintegrate naturally from a distance, then the probability of getting to where I am today would be slim.  However, I now recognize that I made a huge decision just based on insecurity and not based on logic or even a strong gut feeling.

I have also have kept my mother-in-law at bay from the moment I met her.  There were a few times I got angry over stupid things in regards to a situation she happened to be in or on the edge of and *now* I recognize why.  I had thought it was her.  Now I realize it was me.

I have always felt (at least to some degree), that I needed to keep this perfect image around her.  I never wanted her to see then (or even now) my vulnerabilities and weaknesses.  Being myself around the MIL has never been easy for me.  I feel like I smile even when I don’t feel like smiling.  During those times, I wonder if cracks are forming at the edge of my upturned lips to show how fake I really am being at the moment.

The fakeness comes from not wanting to face the emotions head-on.  Or at least, not wanting to be honest about my emotions.  For the sake of peace, I fake it.  Then again, some of the turmoil in the relationship with my MIL is due to my own insecurities and fear that she will take over and deem me not good enough for her son or even my own children.

I have a hard time believing that she could ever really love me for real and not just because I am her son’s wife and the mother of her grandchildren.

So I know that I have come at least one tiny step ahead in this situation.  There are varying degrees of insecurity in all facets of my life.  I want to fix them and overcome these demons.

I guess that’s why I have this blog…right?

I had come to believe (a long time ago) that who I was rested solely on how I looked.  I’m not really sure where I got this notion that how I looked and presented myself mattered more than the inner substance of who I was… but it’s something I have held on to for a long time.  Unlike some of my personality traits… this one has become unwavering and constant.

There have been times (past and present) where I have actually quit talking to people and distanced myself from good friends because of my insecurities.  Irrationally I had thought that they didn’t want just me but always wanted something from me.  That individually I was worth nothing unless someone wanted something.

I worry about my friends taking my husband away from me.  I worry constantly about him cheating on me and finding someone else to occupy his time.  It hasn’t hit me yet that I am worthy of his love or more than good enough for him.  I have even taken issue with my mother-in-law because I feel deep inside that there is no possible way she could love me and that she is only looking at my faults.  It’s as though in my mind she is looking to take over my place in her son’s life (albeit in a different way… not as a lover/wife) and that she’s out to be mother to my children.

I am so insecure that I actually push people away from me when they get too close.  I am afraid of letting out all of my emotions and afraid of presenting myself in a less-than-perfect light.  To do so would mean that I outwardly show my imperfections and allow people to become critical and non-accepting of me.

In my 28 years on this planet I have become somewhat of a chameleon.  I take certain personality traits that I like about people and meld them into my own persona.  Doing this has made me confused about certain parts of my personality.  Even though I know who I am…. I am afraid to be who I am for fear that no one could really accept me.

Irrationality at its finest.

I know the problem… now the question becomes…

How do I overcome these insecurities?  How do I accept myself in whole no matter what?

For once, I want to feel good about who I am and not compare my value to others.  I want to allow myself to be strong in my convictions and lastly, I need to come to an acceptance that I am beautiful inside and out no matter what my weight might be.

My biggest fear is that I will still be fighting the same issues well into my 50s.  I want to present my children with a positive woman role model and I want to move on from this and enjoy my life!

I’m just not sure what the first step should be…

The problem is… i’m having trouble getting started.  I am addicted to fast food and carbs.  I have been very conscious lately of what I have been putting in my mouth.  That is, I am aware of what I eat and no matter how bad it might be for me, I continue to eat it.

Part of my bad habits when it comes to food is the emotional response to the baby crying or the kids crying and/or misbehaving.  I am attuned to eating because simply because of emotion.  In fact, more than half the time I eat because of emotion and not of hunger.  I don’t give my body a chance to get to the hunger part.

I want to exercise but am on restriction due to the c-section.  I have another month to go before I can get into a routine.  So, it is almost as though I am subconsciously telling myself to eat, drink and be merry because I really can’t start this journey until I am off exercise restriction.

Realizing this is somewhat disheartening because I feel like I am oh-so-close to success, yet so indescribably far away emotionally.  I think the next step to take is to be held accountable for my weight loss.  So far, I have only admitted to my husband that I want to get healthy and begin living again.  Still… husb has a hard time supporting me with the weight loss decision because he fights the same demons.  In that way, we are not good for eachother because we keep advocating the sickness.

In all of this of one thing I am certain:

Talk is cheap.  Time to put my money where my mouth is.

It’s not that I desire to be the queen-bee, insecurity is the name of the game here.  Feelings of inadequacy surface time after time and the only way I feel on top of my game in my life (i.e. with husb and the kids) is to push everyone who continues to become close to me… away.

Some days I think that if I were a dog, i’d be a little ankle biter dog.

Anyway, one of my source problems is with my Mother-in-law.  I think she is a fantastic lady and extremely kind and generous.  However, there is another part to her that I don’t understand.  She always wants to “help” me and in a way, it makes me feel inadequate.  She also uses terms around the kids like… “hey Owen, are you grandma’s boy?”  OR  “Hi grandma’s girl!”  (the last said to my daughter).  I don’t know why… but sometimes I feel that she feels that I am inadequate at being a mom and wife.  So, I push her away.  I don’t want to get to close because i’m not altogether sure what she thinks of me or what she wants from me.

We do this dance, MIL and I… where we get close and then not-so-close.  It’s confusing… this hot and cold relationship of ours.

Since having the third baby, she has been around a lot more wanting to help.  All of my insides scream “NOOO!” because I am afraid of losing ground or afraid that she might think I am weak and cannot handle the responsibilities of being a mom and wife.   The more logical and at this point tired part of my brain feels that she just wants to be close to us.  ALL of us… including me.  She wants a good relationship with her grandchildren and husb and I.

So, I have been letting her come over and help.  My guard has been down with her and though I feel uneasy about it sometimes, I am trying to get closer to her.

I haven’t figured out why I have this problem.  It is like I am so afraid of her rejection.  Maybe it is because all of my other boyfriends had parents who disapproved of me.  So this is my way of making sure that doesn’t happen again.

Husb and I are extremely committed to our marriage and eachother.  Still… I can’t help but feeling as though the marriage is a delicate flower that I need to protect fiercely.

In any case, I truly am trying to be more warm and open with my MIL.  Maybe she’ll come to truly love me some day.

Why is life so moment to moment?  Just as I feel good today with good thoughts and good will toward fellow human beings, tomorrow could be the exact opposite.  It never ceases to amaze me how life takes on a different aura every day, week, month, year.

So you know how I have discussed in previous entries that I am overweight and that my feelings toward being overweight are far from a “fat positive” point of view.  Recently, I decided that I need to quit punishing myself for being overweight.  I have failed to search or buy myself cute clothes for almost 2 years.  That means, I wore old jeans that didn’t fit right or (1 year into it), a couple of different pairs of sweat pants and whatever t-shirt my husband had clean.  Ouch.  No wonder I was so depressed!

I feel that in order for me to lose the weight I so desire, I have to start being happy with who I am… no matter my size.  I have based so much of my self-worth on numbers (the number on the scale and the size on my clothes) for so long.  I quit treating myself right and started punishing myself.  I let my weight determine how i was going to feel on a daily basis.

I want to quit doing that.  I want to shut off that negative voice in my head that keeps telling me I am worth very little because of my weight.  I want to quit blanching everytime I see a picture of myself.  More importantly, I don’t want my children to see me this way or have to live this way.  Regardless of my weight and how I look… I can still be fun.  I can still be the mom they deserve.

I came across a rather good blog once and in it, the blogger stated that she felt she was taking away something from her family everytime she put unhealthy food in her mouth or spewed forth negativity in regards to her weight.  That blog entry spoke to me.

Now… I need to put those words into action.

Then, I found myself in the hospital just having had my baby only to find that the doctors and nurses were worried about him because of his breathing. His breaths would come rapidly and though he could eat through it, there was cause for concern because they were afraid the formula would end up in his lungs instead of his stomach.

Talk about all the emotions hitting me at once!  I balled like a baby when the nurse was telling me that I may have to be discharged without my baby.  I almost had to leave him at the hospital and then visit him everyday until they deemed we could take him home.  I felt immeasurably devastated over that news.  I wanted to be strong then… but I just couldn’t.

The day of my discharge was fairly stressful emotionally.  I sat in my room waiting up until the very last minute to hear if my baby boy would be able to come home with us.  The nurse checked his breathing 3 times before the final few minutes and miraculously his breathing slowed to 55 all three times!

The emotional sabbatical was nice.  I felt able to cope with everyday things.  In some ways, I have to admit that in some wacky way, I wanted to be numb for the scary experience with the baby in the hospital.  I wanted to be strong for him and felt that by crying … it meant I wasn’t strong.  What I learned, is that I love my baby and did not want anything bad to happen to him.  I WANTED to take him home with me.

In essence, I felt a little relieved as I was afraid that I would feel removed from the baby as I felt at times… removed from my pregnancy.  So having the emotional reaction and feeling it so deeply in my heart and soul and feeling the love for my little guy seep through every pore in my body was refreshingly relieving.

When the darkness started rolling in, I had hit the end of my 2nd trimester and the wee beginning of the 3rd.  I felt increasingly tired all of the time but more so than the average tiredness, I was constantly weepy, my mind went crazy during the day, my focus was lacking and I got so easily frustrated with my children over small things.  I felt like a mental and emotional wreck that was only two steps away from a breakdown.

The other emotion I felt quite frequently was that I enjoyed being alone more than I enjoyed being with people.  I wanted nothing more than to stew in my darkness… alone.  As a turtle in a shell, I would shy away from any social gatherings and would shy away from meeting with people who were happy.  I also did not want to be close to anyone other than husb and the kids.  I pushed a lot of people away for fear that they would see through my “fake-happy” exterior to the mental hell I was going through and do the worst thing possible (well, in my mind at least)… which was … judge me.

I didn’t want people to see through me.  I didn’t want them to glimps into the private hell of my mind to see a woman who was struggling to regain focus, ambition, and harmony.  It is no fun when you are not at peace with yourself.

I realized really quickly that it was harder for me to be away from my friends.  Sure, they were only less than an hour away but in retrospect, it felt like a lifetime in distance.

Then, I came across this article that links social isolation and depression.  This excerpt really hit home with me:

Women who said they did not have the support of family, friends, and a partner were nearly four times more likely to develop the disorder.

Having positive support from family and friends really helps the mental well-being of women who find themselves pregnant whether it be unexpected or planned.

I chose the anti-depressants.  I know myself to the degree that I know when i’m not feeling like “me”.  I asked him for a low-dose of something.  He proceeded to say that it is not a magical pill that makes everything all better.  My reaction:  DUH.  I just want to feel more even with my emotions.  I’m asking to feel “okay” rather than down all the time with my mind racing.  What I have been through has hardly been a pleasant experience for me.  I certainly do not expect any pill to “make it all better”.  I just want to feel a little less like I am down all the time and going to go insane.  Too much to ask?  I think not.

I have to admit that after the appointment, I balled like a baby.  This has been coming to a head for so long.  You have no idea how much courage it took to actually open up to the doctor about it.  I finally admitted to myself that I needed help and I finally sought it.  The sucky thing is, that my doctor was less than supportive.  His bed manner sucked quite frankly.

It has been exactly 1 week and 1 day since I have been taking the pills.  To my delight, I feel “even-keeled” emotionally.  My thoughts aren’t racing, I am not crying like a mad woman one minute and just plain old sad the next, I feel nothing and I feel not so overwhelmed.  Even my focus has gotten on track!

Depression aside, there are things within me that I want to change.  This is something no pill can do for me.  I wasn’t looking to take anti-depressants to feel happy, I just wanted to feel not sad and without hope.

The next phase of “finding myself” will include digging deeper into some personal issues I have not dealt with.  There are things I need to do in order to find my happy spot in life.