A year ago today...

A year ago today I was staring down the barrel of one of the hardest physical challenges of my life.  A year ago today I went in for my first reconstructive surgery (tummy tuck) with all the bravery and smiles a girl who had halved herself could muster!  I was the fittest and healthiest I’ve EVER been, I’d worked SO hard, I was mentally and physically ready - and I was determined to rock that surgery in every way possible!

A year later, and I’m sitting here with what feels like a fist gripping my heart.  It’s been THE hardest year of my transition, and part of me is just….  hurting/lamenting/questioning/dreaming/consoling… ?  I’m not sure how I feel at the moment.  Very mixed emotions.

Ofcourse, I had to contend with the physical issues post-surgery – there was dizzy spells and fatigue like nothing else.  Ofcourse there was the pain and swelling of cutting off a significant portion of your body. But it was the insane staph infection which totally messed me around for bulk of the months following (and even 12 months later, I still have a few slight issues) – and the biggest brain-messer-uperer was when I “burst at the seams” from the infection.  Scariest thing I’ve been through – there are just no words when you have a mass load of fluids streaming out of a wound in your body and you’re helpless to do anything about it...  It made me seriously question if any of it was worth it.

As the months rolled on, I realised there were other issues coming out of the woodwork that I hadn’t had to deal with before – nor had I been prepped or ‘warned’ about.  My anxiety levels skyrocketed – my heart palpitations were fit to send sonic shockwaves through all of Bathurst on some days.  I’d be close to heart-attack status with the anxiety, just trying to walk into a shopping centre to buy a few groceries, after numerous near-fainting spells over the first couple of months left some jagged memories in there that would shoot me with anxiety every time I’d attempt it.  Even trying to leave my house was becoming problematical – driving my car would scare me (I nearly fainted driving the car when I didn’t know I was infected) - and exercise… pfft.  It started scaring the life out of me – my body would ‘tighten’ when it was swollen with heat or movement, and most days it felt like the safest place for me was to lay on the floor.  Couldn’t fall any further if I was already on the floor. I became very accustomed to laying on the floor.

It hurt SO BAD in that first six months – I was shattered.  My surgery wasn’t the ‘be all, end all’ – it left me significantly scarred (not my surgical scar – that mofo rocks my world, it’s seriously bad arse from hip to hip!!).  No – my mental state was completely shattered.  I was fucked (for want of a better word…!).

My anxiety – untreated and undiagnosed – turned into depression over winter (one of my trouble points on any given year!) – but fuelled with the hurt and resentment of the swelling, issues, anxiety, and my distaste of my wonky, still “unattractive” body….  I forfeited into a spiral of self-hatred and ended up totally lost.

If you’ve read my previous (and very infrequent, very distanced) blogs this year – you’ll have probably caught onto the fact that I wasn’t very ‘ok’.  I thought I had it covered… hell, I’ve been through worse in the past (or so I thought!) – but this was a whole new kettle of fish.  I was in unchartered territory – again – and it left me completely lost.

I went in search of outlets and ‘help’ throughout different avenues this year – including the Brisbane and Sydney Emazon STAND conventions in March and September.  These taught me that there is far more to life than the ‘superficial’ (which I already knew) and pushed me to re-discover and re-connect with my Spirit – and work on finding meaningful relationships with everything in my world.  Including myself – one of my hardest tasks.   

Trying to piece myself together after a massive physical transformation, I was coming unstuck.  Literally.  The surgery – "I thought" – was going to help me feel better about myself.  To help me facilitate some awesome self-love that was still lacking.  Help me be brave and put myself out there – so maybe someone else could see past the exterior and like Amy (god knows my biggest fear is ending up completely alone for the rest of my life…!).   But there it was – in cold hard black and white (or in my case, black and blue!) – the superficial was NOT my answer.  The surgery had failed me in that respect.  My weightloss, therefore, felt like it had failed me too.

I was emptier AFTER surgery than I've ever felt before.   …. And it broke my freaking heart.  

I didn’t look how I wanted – I didn’t like what I saw – I felt rejected, dejected and foul.  It wasn’t “the best thing you’ll ever do Amy!” as I’d heard numerous times prior surgery –  I resented what I saw in the mirror – and even worse, resented the girl staring back at me who had DONE THAT TO ME!  I blamed her for my brokenness.  I hated where I was.

I was full of hate and hurt…. again.  Just like I was when I was twice my size.   THAT is what hurts the most…  How did I end up right back there again?!  

Twelve months later, and I’m still being asked about the surgery.  I went AWOL for a while – trying to deal with everything. I felt I couldn’t comment in a positive light, so I just stopped commenting at all.  People would ask me for specific details, and photos – and it’d take all my energy not to want to shake them and tell them ‘DON’T DO IT!!!’… but I knew that’s not how I felt entirely about it all.  I was just hurting.

There is still a wad of leftover skin on my belly….  That’s something they don’t tell you either – here I was thinking it was going to help rid all that, but NO – there’s only “so much they can take” because its living tissue / blood loss issues mean they can only do so much.   When I was carrying the amount of skin that I was, from having been the size I was, I was left with more skin than I actually realised…  I learnt that the hard way.

I’ve deliberately refrained from showing pictures.  I’m still struggling with body shame – and quite frankly I can see no need to showcase pics of me in my undies for public scrutiny!   I’m far too scared of the damage that may do… even though I’ve suggested in the past that I would offer those up “when I was brave enough”.  Truth is, I’m just not.   I’d love to show the difference between the before and after- it’s quite significant (or at least, moreso at the beginning of the year before my self-sabotage stint) – but I don’t think it’s ‘show worthy’ (my stomach isn’t flat – my body is bumpy and lumpy and I still carry wads of skin in other areas that upset me…).  So it’ll remain private – and as it is, I can barely look at those photos myself without ending up upset.  Looking in the mirror now is hard enough – I haven’t even HAD photos taken in the last few months because of the decline in my mental state in relation to my body.  I feel as though we haven’t even been on speaking terms for bulk of this year.

That’s the thing right there.  The disappointment in the physicality has instigated a serious shift in perspective in my mental state – a very rapid, very dangerous decline.  It had taken me YEARS to like what my body was achieving – losing the weight, getting fitter, reshaping – I was actually starting to LIKE who and what I was!!    There’s one photo taken just a week or so before surgery in a dress at Finale, end of November, that I was totally in love with!  I was just radiant – super happy – and it showed in my face, in my  body, in the way I talked, laughed, looked…

Twelve months later, and I’m a mess.   My body gave out when my heart and head did.  I’m pretty sure I just gave up mid this year. It was just too much. Too hard.  I was over it.  I ached from tip to toe.  Physically and mentally.  I couldn’t breathe from the anxiety, and I didn’t care because my heart hurt so much.  

Add to that, I’d put myself ‘out there’ earlier in the year, hoping I was a bit more desirable (also mistakenly assuming I was more comfortable in my skin) – I’d been met with a string of rejections.  Having my heart ripped out of my chest when I connected with someone, when they chose someone else – well that was the last straw.  I don’t think I recovered after that – to me, that was the biggest confirmation that I was still unwanted – still not good enough.  I stopped looking, I shut down, I gave up on that too.  In my eyes, I was too hideous and foul – and at the rate my esteem was plummeting – too gross of a person, on the inside as much as the outside, to love anyway…  (I’m still fighting this thinking…!)

Lots of tears and lots of FOOD MEDICATING later – and a couple of months ago I’d had enough.  I was tired of crying, tired of hating myself, tired of fighting over and over again the same shit day in, day out.  I was pissed off that I was fighting depression-symptoms again, and I was TERRIFIED that I was heading towards self-harm territory like I’ve dealt with in the past.  Absolutely terrified – and totally fucked off.  I DID NOT WORK MY ARS E OFF TO GO BACK THERE!!!

I wasn’t getting anywhere on my own – I wasn’t winning.  The anxiety had turned festy, and I KNEW I wasn’t winning against that - everything upset me and every day I was contending with 'something'.  I was more inclined to eat my emotions, my body was aching even though I wasn’t training, and I was tired.  Constantly, utterly tired.  I had unexplained pain and fatigue – tendonitis in my arm, severe joint immobility and now a heel spur from seemingly out of nowhere!  My body was breaking down – right along with my head.   So I sought help.   I pulled in my stubborn Taurean head and went to the Dr…

Last couple of months I’ve been on low-dose anti-depressants to help calm the anxiety (and for the most part it’s worked, I don’t rock sonic shockwaves nearly as much now! I was VERY anti-drugs prior to this, so was a major decision for me to go down this path) – and despite my fear of counselling (for valid reasons from prior experience) – I found a local counsellor to go and talk to.  I was punishing myself with massive self-blame, and it was unravelling me.  She was pretty quick to pick up on that in the first couple of sessions – and her questioning me on why I was so adamant on taking the blame for EVERYTHING, and then sabotaging and hating myself for it (when it wasn’t always warranted or even my fault!) - was a key to helping me start turning it around.

I started implementing other techniques aswell - including positive meditation that I’d listen to of a night, and gave myself permission to step back from “the weightloss world” and look after myself for a while.  I hadn’t been able to do that before…  (I felt compelled to help everyone – but then I was hating myself for being a “failure” in the process, a hypocrite – who’d want to listen to the girl who couldn’t even sort her own shit out?!!).  And let’s not even mention the hideous jealousy…  Ohhhh dear god, green eyed monster for sure!    I took myself off dating sites, and I deleted a wad of people from my social networks that I just couldn’t handle ‘for now’ (sorry if that was you, ha!).   I sat on my arse, I ate whatever I wanted, I slept as much as I could and I tried not to let my head go rancid.   I put myself into a bubble for a while – it was time to heal.

So that’s where I find myself today.  Twelve months on from my first reconstructive surgery.  They took about 4kgs of skin off – and in 12 months I’ve put on 15kgs (was nearly 20) – became reclusive – regurgitated some serious self-hatred of times gone by – and learnt some hardcore home truths about being superficial!      My heart hurts for the life lessons I’ve had to endure – but in saying that, had I not gone through this, had everything been “peachy and beautiful” – I’d have missed some of my biggest turning points and experience.  I wouldn’t have found gratitude in other areas or learnt to take the hits the way I have. 

Was it the best thing I've ever done for myself?  Well no - but it has played its part in helping reshape me - physically and mentally.  There are benefits in lesser loose skin - although I spend bulk of my time pulling my undies up now because they keep rolling down over a belly that's out of shape to the rest of me!  I find myself with pockets of fat that weren't there before, with the sabotage-gain and lack of weight training muscle loss - I guess the fat cells have to accumulate somewhere else?!    But I can do pushups now without wanting to hang my head in shame because my gut falls on the floor - which is something that used to send me into fits of tears....  And when I run (if and when I can run these days!) - it doesn't hurt my belly as much as it used to or slap against my thighs  (that's not to say there aren't other issues though - thigh slappage of its own accord is still there!!!).   My body is nowhere near perfect - it's anything but - but it's mobile, and now that I'm back to looking after it PROPERLY - not fueled with hatred or wrong goals - I hope we can start talking again, and make some progress.  I sincerely hope the twelve months ahead can turn this experience into a positive learning curve, and help facilitate some real self-love and acceptance for what I am, who I am, as I am. 

Weightloss can no longer be my main focus.  It’s EGO based, and reflects badly against the person I am within.  It’s superficial and living off the Ego of weightloss success - without having created a tangible, meaningful esteem behind it - leaves you longing and empty.  Let that be my lesson to you all right there!!   My “success” is not found on the scales – it’s in my strength of character, my honesty in myself, my integrity in accountability.   Who I am is not measured on anything other than the heart inside – and as it stands, she’s pretty ok – even with the multiple hits this year that have taken a few chunks out of it.

Would I like a smaller arse?  Sure. 

Do I want to lose this gain and go back to my smallest size pre-surgery?  Yes. 

Will I surrender to quick gimmicks, shortcuts, self-manifesting diabolical obsessive body-smashing or unnecessary starvation to get the results I want?   Hell no.  

Will I have more surgery in the future?  I don’t know.

Will I overcome my twelve months of hurt?  Yes.

Will I be ok?  Yes.

    

One month, one hundred emotions

Close your eyes.... breathe in.... hold that breath.... exhale and release.... Remember to breathe in again... wait, then what?? 

SO much has happened in the past month, I do wonder when it was that I simply forgot how to do the most basic task - breathe in, breathe out - when it became clouded with stress, fear, tears, confusion and frustration that made breathing sometimes feel like a chore...

I KNEW when the Universe started to shake things up that there'd be consequences - I knew I was going to wear these consequences in a "really messed up, but good, way"... but I didn't think it would take THIS much of a toll on me.  I underestimated it immensely...

The last month has been one hell of a rollercoaster ride...  Since my last blog post, I've moved house (albeit next door!) ~ attended the amazing Emazon Convention in Brisbane ~ went on a holiday with a bunch of my favourite crazy online girls and ate cake ~ had (another) pre-birthday meltdown and then turned the big 3-4 ~ and became an Aunt for the first time...  Oh, and my body started to shut down in its usual winter-style - my weight has piled on, and I feel a whole wad of blurgh... !   SO let's begin this crazy recap...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Thank you healing house.."

Moving house was.... emotional. Hard. Heartbreaking... but I had no choice - and the hasty shift from one door to the next before I had to go away didn't leave much room for "downtime and bonding with my new premises."  An intensely emotional weekend all round as I departed with the place that had been my home for over a decade - the place that had helped me rebuild myself, where I felt safe to begin my changes.  I found myself sobbing as I weeded the front garden and stroking the doorframes as I'd walk in and out the empty rooms.  Extremely hard for me to say goodbye to an empty 'soulless' house when the time came, but I said my heartfelt 'thank you' to the walls that had sheltered me for so long, and gave me exactly what I needed when I needed it the most.  The moment I walked into that house I knew I was meant to live there - it helped heal me - and as hard as it is to live next door now (I didn't get that same feeling here), I did metaphorically close the door on that chapter of my life when I walked out for the last time...  That's probably more in keeping with the emotional distress and tears... farewelling a huge decade of my life and closing that door... finally??  Maybe...  or at least beginning to!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Running off to the Emazon Convention in Brisbane a couple of days later, I KNEW I was in for a whirlwind of emotions.  I was already emotionally red-raw and knew I was in for even more upheaval in the heart region.  Emma's workshops are nothing short of HONEST - and it's her honesty and integrity in her message that is what drove me to attend the convention in the first place.  My own beliefs parallel hers, and I believe in her message - she's an incredibly strong woman and I admire her passion in delivering the tools to others to stand up and find their OWN strength in who they are.  THAT is what I was seeking - the strength and capacity to find my feet again - the willingness to break free of my inflictions.  I went to the convention with an open mind and heart - and knew I was going in head first... and I was ok with that.

Check me out with my fake tat - TOUGH!

The convention was.... wow, one word...  intense.  It all began with an amazing pre-convention welcome party - glam up and get socialising!  (I'm NOT good with this at the best of times - don't let the big smile fool you!)  ... but a cocktail or two later, and I was ok - I was amongst 'friends' who were there for their own reasons of self development too - and they were probably as nervous as I was..... yes, no, maybe?!!!   Overall, a fabulous night filled with fire dancers, Harley rides (I missed out, goddammit!!!) and fake tattoos (to go with my fake hair and lashes, ha!)... it was just an awesome start to the events!   ... maybe a little misleading - the "fun" before the work?!    Isn't that around the wrong way.... ??!!

Yep.. !  SO a very late night for me and then a very early start the following morning with a 6am workout - and BAM - let the educating begin!  6am to about 7pm each day for three days - with lectures, training, boxing, mindset and nutrition education, meditation and yoga (for a vague overview!)... wow...   It was all in there - mind, body, spirit - it was intense, purposefully packed to maximise our time and give us the tools to educate and facilitate personal growth and change.

... and it threw me... big time.   The lectures had me in tears - the education had my brain swimming - it challenged my thinking and "brainwashing" and made me question what it was I actually DO want and why I'm still fighting so hard against my own wants and desires, trying to be 'just like everyone else' instead of being ME (and standing up and being proud of that - no "follow the leader" sheep stuff).  I've conflicted with 'programs' and structure now for over 2 years - my weightloss and mental health suffered for it in huge ways.  The surgery and it's poor results instigated another mass degrading of my mindset (because it didn't give me the "picture perfect stomach" media showcased, nor "fulfilled me" when the superficial left my heart just as empty as before!).

Emazon - our courageous teacher!

As per my introduction to the Emazon workshops in the past, my brain went into overdrive.  Knowing full well there's a REASON why I do what I do - and knowing there's also a reason why I now baulk against the confines of what I've done in the past... it's almost a revelation - and not one I'm quite at liberty to openly talk about here (1. because it's far too complex to explain!!  2. because it's so intensely personal, I honestly don't know if there are words to express how deeply rooted these self-challenges are and why it's become so important for me to find the reasons behind the self-sabotage and hatred that I simply can't get rid of - and how CRAZY strong I feel about finding that inner "me" whose been behind ALL my transformation and choices in the past five and a half years...  I simply didn't acknowledge her before - but she's hell fierce - but VERY hard to find...)

.... as I said, incredibly hard to explain!!   Hard to summarise what a STAND workshop or convention is - those that have experienced it will nod and agree!!  Everyone takes from it what THEY need at the time...   For ME: it was about learning to trust myself, to trust and listen to that driving force inside whose been guiding me this entire way.  To understand that my choices aren't always great, but they're subconsciously made for very good reason.  To trust that the universe is playing its part in my redevelopment too - and whilst it stings like a bitch, for the most part, it's because I'm on the path that I'm SUPPOSED to be on.

... and it doesn't follow anyone else.  It never has.  I've never been a follower, always on my own.  And somehow... "somehow" .... I need to start trusting my 'higher self' that she's doing all this for my betterment. For my future. For my heart. For my freedom.

FREEDOM.   Free from the hideous hatred and subjectivity that I'm STILL feeling despite the weightloss and life changes...  and what I'm STILL trying to fight for, even with the meltdowns, the horrible mood swings, the intense up and down thought processes, the total confusion, the debilitating self-hatred because I 'think' I'm doing something 'wrong' because I keep falling short from what I'm brainwashed to believe is acceptable...   She's still in there, and she's fighting... fighting fighting... for my freedom.   Phew... did I mention intensely personal?!!  ha!

Holy mother of god I'm upside down?!!

Our final challenge of the convention was the "Fear Factor" - four obstacles to test us, see if we could overcome our irrational fears.  Fire eating, trapeze, acrobatics and parkour (jumping off random objects - though ours was aerobic steps, but still just as scary!).  I managed the fire eating, acrobatics (at a push - though I baulked at the thought of breaking someone's legs when they had to hold me up!) - the parkour was hard on my wobbly knees and lack of body-trust jumping between spots... but the trapeze had me whipped.  First attempt, I had a full on panic attack and had to lay on the ground, being told to calm my breathing down (there's that breathing thing again!) - and calm down enough to move onto the next challenge.  ... but it came back around, and I was prompted again - did I want a go?  I kept shaking my head 'no', that 'this body can't do THAT! I used to be nearly 200kgs!!!'....    KNEW if I didn't at least give it a try, I'd resent myself and regret it...

My hands were sweaty, I could barely breathe, and my knees were shaking.  I held onto the trapeze bar - and HUNG off it (a first - I've never held my own bodyweight off a bar!) - then was encouraged to try and swing my legs up.  Yep, managed that part, then nearly lost the plot when my knees were being pulled down from the other side to leverage me up - and I thought they were about to break, the pain shooting through my bad knee joints - had NO option than to pull myself up before I became dismantled at the knee-pivot!

... but I did it - I sat up there on a trapeze - I hyperventilated like a pro - and could barely open my eyes (I'm afraid of heights too, haha)... but I did it!   "Somehow" I managed to get down off that crazy thing, and wobble away to go sit on the ground... and all I remember was saying - for what I didn't realise was out loud - was "FUCK YOU 200KGS!!!"  .. then prompty fell on the ground and cried!  Enter here a handful of nearby ladies who wrapped me up in hugs and told me how awesome that was, haha!!

I'll sidetrack slightly here and give you a glimpse of what I've "seen" behind the scenes of Amy...  When I attended my second SYG (Stand Your Ground) workshop in March, there was a boxing training session at the end of the workshop that had us work ourselves into a state of 'alpha' being - where your brain is sidetracked from the mundane thinking of day to day life, and leaves you alert and aware and "clear".  Afterwards, we were laying on the floor in a guided meditation session - we walk down a hallway, see a door, what material is the door made of, the door handle, when you open the door where are you, what do you see, what do you feel under your feet, walk further into this space and meet "you", talk to you, she has a very special message for you...     When I did this meditation session for the first time, my 'visuals' were so intense - my door was wooden, the handle ornate, I walked into a garden filled with butterflies and flowers and lush grass, and my 'higher self' turned around to tell me "Amy, you are NOT alone!"  I cried.  Tears streaming down the side of my face...   My isolation in my transformation has always been questionable and hurtful for me - and at this particular time, that message was EXACTLY what I needed to hear. I am NOT alone.

To cap off my experience at the Brisbane convention following the crazy "Fear Factor" challenges - our final yoga and meditation session was going to prove to be the most intense experience of them all (as though the trapeze hadn't just rocketed my socks off!).  My meditation message was equally as important and incredibly powerful as the first one mentioned above from March.  At the end of the guided meditation, when I "opened the door", my higher self ran over to me with an enormous smile on her face, threw her arms around me and told me how incredibly proud of me she was. I am PROUD.

I laid on the floor and sobbed...  I don't know that I've ever truly been proud of myself for what I've achieved. I struggle with this regularly - all the accolades run off me like beads of water on oil - I question their validity because I struggle to believe it myself... it's "only weightloss" in my head.  BUT here was my inner self - my 'true self' - telling me how intensely proud of me she was.  Did that finally mean that had broken through?  Do I finally believe it?!

I left the convention in a whirlwind of emotions - very grateful for the experience - but very very emotional.  It seemed to drive the insatiable questioning in my head now - all these things I've wanted but not believed I deserved - all the conflicting beliefs in my head and heart...  It had me questioning what I was prepared to 'put up with' from outside influences now and made me question if I actually AM strong, or am I actually the substruct of my own creating?!    In any case, "questioning" is good - the upheaval that went with it, maybe not so much... ha!

~ ~ ~ ~

I came 'home' (my new home) very briefly, and felt incredibly isolated, confused and displaced.  Add to this the pressure of pre-birthday issues, and the night before I turned 34 at the beginning of the month, I was in monster breakdown mode... again.  Me and birthdays have never mixed well - and with so much upheaval in my headspace, so much male-oriented rejection, so many 'issues' with my body and the post-surgery gain...  I was in a world of "I'm running out of time!!!" pain, and a birthday was the last thing I needed - it seemed to just rub it in further that I STILL lack so much, and another year has rolled past... and maybe (maybe?!) I'm just a silent bystander in whatever the hell is going on in this 'life' I'm supposed to be leading?!!  I was ANGRY that I'd worked so freaking hard, and still coming up so short - why did I bother trying to do anything at all?!   Why did I bother fighting for my life, when I felt so non-existent anyway??    ... so much anger and frustration here, and it all came to a crashing halt on the night before.   I wasn't suicidal (very removed from those feelings of the past) - but I questioned why I was still here...  and WHY was I still bothering to fight?!   Very hard night, and lots of tears...  but birthdays still happen whether you like it or not - and I still woke up the next day and clicked off another one.  Again.

The next day was far less intense - lots of online messages, a cupcake at work, and a family dinner...  I survived. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A couple of days later, I was back out the door for my next adventure. A mini holiday on the Gold Coast with a bunch of my favourite online friends - but the day I left I seemed to have packed a wretched headcold to come with me, along with some seriously un-dealt-with emotions and a wad of frustration.  It's a wonder the airline didn't charge me excess baggage with how 'heavy' I felt with all these things swirling around my head... !

... but as sick as I was for the start of the holiday, it was probably the overdose of Lemsip, cold & flu tablets and the (err) bottle of wine (I rarely drink!) that sent me into another big breakdown...  Hiding in the bedroom, bawling my eyes out, being counseled by one of my beautiful friends, I blurted out so much of my sobby hurts that it seemed to release me a little...  Something 'unchained' a bit and I could breathe a little more again (ironic, considering my headcold breathing issues!).  

The girls have an uncanny ability of weeding out smiles - they're a very select group of my extensive online network that I've been lucky to have over the years of my transformation - have seen far more of my private ups and downs - and have hearts of gold.  Our little weekender was so very important - not just for me, but for us all.  It reiterated in my crazy little head that I HADN'T totally isolated myself after all, that my choice of friends are genuine and beautiful, and that in itself, reflects on ME - just as I am in this moment in time... and it's GOOD.

My final morning walk - pure bliss!

I walked 7kms along the walking path next to the beach at Surfers Paradise the night before we left... and was up early the following morning to walk another 8kms through the beautiful beach water.  All I could do was breathe in the beautiful fresh air, feel the warm water against my legs...  My head was swirling with "you have to go home and fix things"... though part of me just wanted to walk and walk and walk...  I could happily have just kept walking and not turned back.

... but reality doesn't let you daydream like that!  I turned around and re-traced my steps back to the girls, packed up and left... but not before we hit the coffee shop for one last 'splurge'... !   I left the Coast a little lighter than when I'd arrived, but certainly not in kilos (haha)...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Coming home, I was greeted with my next big challenge... albeit a beautiful one!  My sister was being induced with her over-cooked baby on the Monday - and I left her explicit instructions to hold off having that late-arrival baby until I was home!!   Her little girl arrived the following afternoon, and I'll admit, the whole experience left me in a world of emotions here too...

Somewhere in my head, at some point in the last 15 years, I let myself believe I'd "never have things"...  like a house, travel, relationship, marriage or babies.  I don't exactly know why - though I was pretty damned adamant about it years ago that it'd NEVER happen.  Up until last year, I truly still believed it too...  til 'boys' started to notice me a little more, and the whole facade started to crack a little...  because I DID want those beautiful things, and I resented the fact that I didn't have them.  When all your friends are married, in a relationship, with kids (etc) - it's incredibly hard to be the random odd one out... ALWAYS.  It's even harder when it's your own siblings, and your 7-year-younger sister is bringing the first baby of the family into the world.  It stirred up some pretty intense emotions, and cracked open a wad of self-hatred for being "too ugly, too revolting, too whatever blah blah blah" into my headspace - that it was ME causing my own issues and why I'm the girl that noone wants - and how I'll NEVER get to have any of this...

Before I get told off or chipped about that 'silly thinking' - it seems I have some pretty solid timeframe issues filtering in on top of that 'junk'.   For instance, if I go ahead with another corrective body surgery (and I need multiple...  can't do more than one a year at the very most because of the health implications, cost and the extreme nature of it all - with at least two of them being major surgeries that I simply can't afford - so we're talking YEARS here if I can ever get to them!)...  there's a few more years I've "lost" during transformation.  If I can't find my own self-acceptance in amongst all that, then "how will I be able to let someone else in"...  Big issue right there.  Huge.   But say someone manages to break through that to show me I'm worth being with.. (which hasn't happened....  but maybe, if I'm lucky?! .. they'd have to be pretty bloody special and stubborn, haha)...  we wouldn't be dropping and having babies immediately...  so lose another couple of years there...   suddenly I'm approaching/in my 40s, and maybe babies aren't even an option for a mangled body, after everything I've put it through?!

Teaching baby Abby the fine art of selfies!!

... see, now it becomes really messy and VERY emotional.  Seeing this baby for the first time - I'm living vicariously through my sister for something I may very well never have...    Mother's Day this year became another sticky point for me for that exact same reason.  I'm not even READY for a baby - I'm still in a massive level of self development here - but "what if I never..." filters through my head and I filter nothing but pain.    Ouch.  Stings.  Hurts....  I cried.  Alot.    ... but holding that little girl is amazing - she has this uncanny ability to turn my foul mood on its head, and bring me to tears not from hatred or self-loathing as is so often the case - but because she's so pure and innocent.  She's pure unconditional love...  and I crave that like nothing else.  I eat that up like sprinkles on fairy bread!  She's a week old, and already she's made an impact on me that I can't really explain...    I don't deserve to miss out on that - and I can't hide from it.  She's already broken down my walls...   She speaks to my inner-fighter and they're conspiring... I can tell already that there's 'trouble' ahead!!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And to cap it all off - I decided I'd had enough of the confusion and ignorance fueling my emotional distress on the body and weight front - and stepped on the scales for some hardcore accountability.  I'm TIRED of this hurting business.  All these emotions have taken their toll in a massive way - and it's manifested in severe bloating and swelling through my surgical line, and a monster gain on the scales.  I'm now fighting off about 8 kilos of pure self-sabotage, and my body is hating me even more for it...   The physical discomfort I'm going through right now is troublesome, and I'm worried I'm doing damage to my body even more by eating myself into food comas and extending an already tender stomach!  The surgery and infection took a massive toll on my health and headspace, and five months later, I'm STILL fighting it - it's swollen and sore to touch - looks unnatural and I'm faced with making a decision for later this year of going under again to correct the issues.  ... assuming I can bring myself to do that again.

I tried to 'start fresh' on Monday (ha! bloody Monday starts!!), and managed half a day of "ok".  I tried again yesterday, and managed another half a day... and again today.   I questioned whether I should re-commit to another program, then baulked at the prospect of having to "start again"...  I'm SO exhausted with fighting - mentally and physically...

... yet that 'tick tick tick' thing is plaguing me, and if I don't make headway and start counteracting the gain right now, it'll just keep damaging my headspace... right on top of all this amazing huge catastrophe of an emotional mess that's going on right above the waistline!  If I don't step up and take charge, then I'll lose my shit entirely....

I have NEVER given up - I REFUSE to give up.  I have fought over and over, I don't always win... but I don't give up...  

So I will start fresh again tomorrow... and I will start fresh the next day...  until I get through whatever this hideous hateful horrible hurtful thing is - because I KNOW whatever is happening right now is MEANT TO BE HAPPENING.   Everything I'm feeling, everything I'm fighting, every tear is meant to be - this is an intense learning experience going on here - and whatever is driving all this instability is doing it because the Amy that's always been fighting inside, is conspiring for even more.   I've meditatively 'met' her twice now - she's a force - and she's fighting...     She told me I'm not alone, it's time I start believing it..  time to step up and fight WITH her...   

Breathe in... breathe out...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

A little quote I read on a friend's Facebook page today summed it all up for me in one beautiful statement:

Refuse to fall down. If you cannot refuse to fall down, refuse to stay down.
~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I refuse to stay down.



 

... unless I'm laying on a pontoon in the sunshine... !!

Permission to be proud

I don't really know where the last twelve months has gone - it's mid October, and I'm currently in preparation for my "next chapter" - I feel like I'm holding my breath in anticipation of what this means or what happens next, but it's meant that I've been 'reevaluating' what's happened in the past year that's lead me to this point.

My surgery is only a few weeks away - and yesterday I pushed myself to go and do my mandatory 'bloods' (so they have something to compare against later, and check that I'm healthy etc) and then filled out the hospital form and emailed it in late last night. I've had to do these since late August, just wasn't quite ready….   Booking this in officially was my next major step to making this a reality, and it's taken me a good few weeks to get it together enough to do it.

Prior to talking to the Surgeon I questioned whether I deserved the help, whether I was just opting-in for an "easy way out", and I was petrified that surgery wouldn't give me the answers or results that I need. As it turned out, it'd been nearly twelve months since I'd seen him last, and my weight hadn't changed - but so much else had, and with so many beautiful new things in my life, they were being undermined by the sheer hatred I have for the body I've been left with. Unfortunately.  The skin had contributed to so many negatives, that it was pulling me backwards… the strategy, then, became surgery to help me push forward. 


The last twelve months has proven to be my hardest year yet - and it makes my head spin at the thought of what's happened in such a short space of time. In terms of weightless: nada, zilch, nothing - I've just gone up and down, backwards and forwards in the same 10kilos bracket. Over winter, I stacked the weight on found myself quickly heading back up to the 110kgs mark - but have pulled that all back off since, and turned my physical fitness around 150%.  In terms of 'life' - well it's thrown me around like never before - but I won't say it's without merit. I've had some beautiful experiences, I've had some hurtful moments - there's been tears and tantrums… and yet I'm still here, I'm still moving.

Yet I found myself the last few weeks still unable to find solace in the positives of this - even after pulling my stubborn head in, asking for help, and turning things around - I still couldn't find my pride. Somewhere along the line, I'd stopped being proud - shunned myself for the things I'd achieved - I let people take it away from me with their comments and criticisms - I'd lost the energy to contend with it all. I was embarrassed to talk about my achievements, I stopped taking photos, I stopped writing and sharing, helping and being happy, I started hiding again. I let the negatives win, and I lost my pride….



Mid this year I had a major breakdown - it wasn't pretty and it did its damage - but it taught me a lesson too (as things always tend to!).  When I sought help from my Naturopath recently for my emotional imbalances - driven in there by my sheer fear that I was reverting to the old depression days - she had me fill our three hefty questionnaires to judge what was happening, and figure out what impact it was having on my body. The month prior to this I'd been working with my Kinesiologist, who'd basically already told me my body was buggered because of my emotions - they were working against one another, feeding off each other in a negative way. I was going in circles and there wasn't much I could do about it!  But that was the whole point in seeking their help - I can't physically SEE what's happening to my insides, and I needed their help and guidance.  I knew my emotions were shot, but something wasn't right since the breakdown, and it went further than just what was going on in my head!  My body was breaking down, I could just feel it.

My Naturo put me on some tablets for anxiety - she said she wasn't surprised I was as highly strung as I have been the past year, considering how depleted I am emotionally and physically with all the changes the past five years, and the decade prior to that…  She's worked with me in the past - helped turn around a few of my weird ailments (my superior stress levels when I quit my job; my toxicity a couple years ago from the weightloss. She's helped me before, and I went straight in to have her help again).  The Kinesiologist's "magic potion" had been working on helping my organs with the stress and get me functioning properly, internally, again - the Naturo's tablets and mix were to calm my head.  I felt the difference the next day…. !


The last few weeks have been a MASSIVE turn around. I no longer feel like I'm walking on eggshells, and I feel like I can breathe. I forced myself to seek help (I'm a stubborn Taurean, I don't ask for help unless I have to!) - but I bit the bullet, and asked… and I'm so very proud of myself for doing that.

Enter the transition phase of "finding my pride".  As I move into this next chapter - my surgery phase - I knew straight out that this was going to be one of the hardest things for me to do.  Hell, just booking the appointment was a task in itself - and it all boils down to the emotions and my headspace.  Since I booked, I simply haven't looked back.  Yes, I've stalled a couple of times, I've had a cry, I've questioned and had to take a few deep breaths… but I haven't looked back.

So much has happened - POSITIVELY - in the past month, that I'm walking with my head held high again. My training is spot on - I issued myself a "50 days of fitness" challenge to keep myself honest and on track - and 25 days in, I've been working hard at it ever since and already see the physical difference, hit new monster PBs and I haven't even hit my stride yet!

My food intake has been better - now that I'm not EATING my emotions every day (the curse of being an emotional overeater - happy, sad, scared, bored… you name it - I'll eat my emotions… Emotional imbalance = food festival, and is seriously BAD for results!!). I won't say I get a gold star on the food just yet, but there's far more control here than there's been for MONTHS, and I'm a little proud of myself for that. I'll need that control when I'm in recovery-mode and can't train the way I usually do - so it's very much on my agenda at the moment to get a handle on it all

And as for my head….  ahhhh, all good things come to those who wait - or more importantly, those who diligently work on it!  I'm in a MUCH happier, healthier place than I've been for a while - it's meant that I've poked my head out of isolation and I'm "revisiting" the things that used to make me happy - instilled a sense of pride in what I was doing.  Little things - like writing this blog (!), taking photos (god help you all, I'm back to all the "selfies" again… haha!) - finding and booking in new activities to plan my year ahead, and happily thinking 'futuristically'.


My health and fitness are BEAUTIFUL right now - that is my ultimate goal pre-surgery - to be at my fittest and healthiest….  but that was to include my mental state too - and that has a strategy aswell. I certainly haven't gone into this without a plan, and I'm PROUD of myself for doing it this way - for stepping up and asking for help and following through with it.

I have no doubt that the next few weeks ahead are going to be a little rough, and I have those butterflies in the pit of my stomach starting to jiggle around at the prospect of the last countdowns…. but I'm gearing up now for the next chapter, and what it means. 

I feel like I have a world of expectations on this surgery - subconsciously holding out for everything "beautiful" to just magically happen after this bit of skin is gone… but the realist in me says I need to stop dreaming like that.  I've put so much on hold in the past based on me still feeling "freaky" in this left-over body, and it's done nothing but burn me for the past year.  It hurts, and bulk of that lies on ME and my response to it.  I need to take some responsibility for letting that turn negative…

My body isn't foul - it's wonderful. It's amazing what it overcomes - the torture I put it through (literally, I did a lap of Mount Panorama with 16kgs on my back on Sunday - my glutes are STILL giving me hell about it, haha!)… and yet all the crap I've put into my system, all the neglect, the torment…. it's still fighting with me. 


That's my goal now - to stop putting pressure on my body and love it "just as it is" - because when I part ways with this belly skin in December, I'll be saying goodbye to something that's been with me for 33 years.  I'm nostalgic and melodramatic at the best of times (haha!) - but it's true.  I shouldn't be wishing this away, I should be celebrating what it's meant to me, what it's done for me, who it's made me…  I need to convert the negative stigma into something beautiful, NOW, before it's gone.  I need to be PROUD of my skin, and I need to have pride enough to say goodbye, and say thank you with a smile on my face. 

That's my goal in the next few weeks…. transition back into being PROUD.  Proud of who I am, of what I've overcome, of the things I've achieved, of where I'm going.  I give myself permission to be proud… and I bloody well better start believing it.  The clock's ticking… !

She's back!!! ... or is she.... ?!

Feel like I should be sneaking in here on tip-toes - there's an eerie silence and a long overdue "HELLO!" from me on my poor little blog... and part of me (almost) wants to apologise for being so distant and neglectful!

However, such is the way of life, that despite my last post being back in February - so much AND so little has happened in the last (nearly) six months, that it makes my little head bobble around, and I don't quite know where to start!

I find it somewhat ironic (for lack of a better word) that the last post was all about "Finding Amy".  Well, let me tell you right now that I felt I lost her entirely, gave up looking, got the shits and chucked a wobbly (repeatedly)... but amidst all that, I engaged in this funny thing called "life" that I could never have imagined was going to unfold back in February...   Simply didn't see it coming.


In the last few months I've been on an absolute ROLLERCOASTER ride of emotions. There's been times when I wanted to scream from the top of my beloved Mount Panorama that the world was beautiful, that everything in it was a dream, and I thought it couldn't get any better...  And then there were times when I felt like I was in absolute limbo, so broken inside I couldn't breathe.

I liked the first one better... !!!


The last few months have seen me unearth a whole new wad of "life experiences" - well outside my comfort zone and almost verging on 'normality' (if there is such a thing for me?! haha).  Not to overload you with details, but there's been affairs of the heart, failing bodies, holidays and meltdowns - many tears and much 'thought provoking' self-discoveries and growth.

If anyone were to tell me back in February that I was about to be hit with such massive mental and emotional upheaval as I've been through the last few months, I'd have probably laughed at them and questioned the authenticity of their statement!  I might not have been at my mental "fighting fittest" but I certainly didn't think I was anything below 'solid' either.

It was nothing short of a rude awakening, then, when I went from being up on my absolute highest of highs - living on love and happiness, understanding and finally feeling like I wasn't alone anymore - to trying "something I'd never done before" in the form of a counseling session that pulled me, not gently, back to reality that maybe I wasn't quite as 'ok' as I thought I was about everything.


I should explain...  A few months ago, I went off on holidays to Gwinganna - a special health retreat in QLD.  The holiday I won from the Woman's Day magazine competition.  I was all geared up to enjoy this new experience that I'd have never been game enough to do before, but I was "the new Amy" and it was my 'reward' for all the hard work... right?!   As part of the package, I was given the opportunity to do a special activity - and talking to the staff on arrival about my goals and what I'd already achieved and the frustration I was having in my body and head (being so disjointed) - it was suggested that I do a counseling session with one of the therapists at the retreat.  I baulked at the idea - I've never been overly confident with counseling, but I'd had people telling me I 'may' benefit from the help, and felt it may have been the right time to work on the inner workings of my messy head.  Gulp.

I had no idea what to expect, and went in there with an open mind.  The therapist was lovely, and really easy to talk to - and I just chatted and laughed with her, talking about myself and what I'd done, how different I was, how weird it was in this new body, some of the struggles, some of the icky dark past... Odds and sods - but the general consensus was happy and good!  But she broke me... I was doing my usual "just smile, nod and pretend it's all ok" thing - and I guess that's her job, to break through the barriers and really get to the issue.


Some 'regression therapy' and I was in visualisation mode with my old 6 year old self - back to primary school, the first day I was belittled in class. It's always been in my head - always as clear as day - and the emotions and raw nerves that it produced all those years ago came up right then and there, as easy as clicking your fingers.  It hurt, but she had me revisiting this for a reason - the bullying and shame that I've felt my entire life started right there. The self-hatred of my body and always feeling "different" came from these things. She was pointing out that the context of the situation had grown disproportionately over time - that simple little turn of events had grown so distorted in my head that it was impeding who I am today (or more importantly, who I'm trying to be as this 'new me'...)

She had me visualise my current self walking into the classroom to comfort the young Amy, hug her, show her compassion and tell her it'd be ok, not to let the words and feelings upset her anymore, that she was ok just as she was, there was nothing wrong with her. She had me tell her how her life would unfold - what would happen.  She had me tell her who I am today, the kind of person I am now, despite all the obstacles and upsets, and give her hope for the beautiful future she'd be working so hard to achieve.

All these things were so intensely graphic in my head, that all I could do was cry... and cry... and cry.  I could barely mumble words to express what I was saying to "myself" in my head.  She prompted me with descriptions like "you are caring", "compassionate", "giving", "proactive", "happy", "friendly" and "loved".. and the pain in my heart at each new word hurt me more and more, I could barely breathe.  It wasn't that I was trying to convince my young self that this was who I'd grow up to be - I was trying to convince ME - the present me - that this is WHO I ACTUALLY AM. All the beautiful attributes that someone who'd just met me half an hour previously could see, that I was so blind to.  That hurt more than anything - the realisation that I couldn't even appreciate me for being me.

I left there numb, but 'ok' - so much going through my head, and yet somewhat comforted by the fact that I'd "somehow" helped that little girl, given her a piece of my courage that I knew she'd need.  But it wasn't to end there...

I left Gwinganna with a smile on my face - it was an amazing experience overall. The way of life there had really opened my eyes - pushing for healthy mind and body (not just pushing for weightloss and training like a freak of nature the way I'd brutalised myself with the past year, and seeing no results for it!) - was such an eye opener. It fostered a new sense of "self love" and awakened me to how amazing a more nurturing side of good health can be!

But when I returned to Sydney, I was hit by a world of pain. I lost the plot entirely. Pure and utter emotional exhaustion - in fits of tears and not understanding WHY I was as upset as I was. Not being able to verbalise what was running rampant in my head, my heart was aching and I had absolutely no idea what was happening... I really did think I'd lost the plot, that something had snapped inside my (sometimes fragile) brain. I'd never experienced anything like it before. I could barely breathe, I was just so confused. I wasn't hurt from dragging up the past and I was ok with "working on things" for Amy again... so what the hell was happening to me?!! 

I went home a broken woman - a brilliant meltdown at my disposal, and nearly destroying my relationship in the process - I was supposed to be coming home from holidays with a smile on my face!!  Instead, I came home to what felt like an alien home - like I didn't belong. My "safe zone" was shallow and cold, it felt wrong to be here. I didn't belong here, I didn't belong anywhere.  What the hell was wrong with me??!!!

I spent the following fortnight in and out of emotional limbo - I haven't cried that painfully in years (it was so reminiscent of the bad days, I was petrified I'd gone back to that...). I was at the point of pleading with myself to wake up to myself, get on with it and grow the hell up - but the confusion, the hardcore emotional onslaught, the financial issues I came home to, the stress and the anxiety... everything fell to pieces at once, and I was left in a screaming mess. My head finally gave out as much as my body had... It really had been only a matter of time.


.... Fast forward a few months later, and I'm happy to report that things are in a MUCH better place now, and I'm much 'healthier' overall.  Unfortunately, the meltdown left some damage in its wake - an 8 kilo gain, I stopped training and 'gave up', winter cravings hit hard and I ate myself into food comas repeatedly. My joints packed it in over winter - I've never had so much pain in my knees as I've had this year, and I wasn't even training!  I was a broken woman... I distanced myself from here, my Facebook page, my local network and even my closest friends.  I shut down from everyone, I neglected looking after myself, and I lamented being a "failure" and went into a self-pity spiral.

Necessity demanded I get up out of my funk and I found work (being self employed, I had no choice but to seek a new job) - I couldn't even afford cat food, and that was the end of the line for me!  If I couldn't look after my fluffy boy, then that was NOT ok!  A few weeks ago I started my new role with an existing client, and continued part-time work with another - which not only helped me get my structure back, but it forced me out of the house to socialise and deal with people (the easiest thing in the world for me is to shut down, turn off, go mute...) - and put 'scheduling' back into play. It gave me a project to focus on, be proud of and allowed me the flexibility that having an income affords (albeit a small one, but small is better than none!!).  I could breathe again...


Last week I went back to the gym - four months I'd been out of solid training.  A few hits and misses along the way, but four months...  I'm nothing short of disappointed in how de-conditioned I've become. The self-abuse I put myself through - emotional and food based - and how quickly that weight came back on, and how relentless it was on my head - the mental torture is extreme! The hatred for giving up, the remorse, the "see Amy, you ARE a failure!"... oh my god, it was just unforgiving!

Last week I signed up for the 12wbt again - to force structure and goals back onto my agenda.  I'm no longer the girl at 200kgs (she's well and truly gone) - I'm the girl at 100kgs - and irrespective of what's been and gone, the last 18 months have proven to be the hardest by far.  Complacency and exhaustion - they've been my two biggest wakeup calls, that I'd very much neglected areas of my transformation OFF the scales. My breakdown was testament to that - my mental health and the self-talk that I've been berating myself with for months are NOT healthy - and yet that's exactly what I aspire to be, and why I've put in so much work the past 4 1/2 years!   HEALTHY is my ultimate goal - in both mind and body - and yet I'm not living and loving that in the capacity it deserves - that *I* deserve.


I'm finally starting to reign it all back in, and things are starting to make sense.  I don't know if it's a little strange to say... but back in February when I was so hellbent on "Finding Amy" - I simply wasn't ready. I was naive and frugal with my emotions.  It's only now that I'm starting to feel that strength again - feeling and noticing the differences that have come from the past few months - that I can appreciate the transition more.  I simply didn't understand back in February - the life experiences weren't there - the heart break and triumphs weren't there....  You can't value something you haven't achieved yet - but I'm not ready to pat myself on the back quite yet either!!

I know I still have so much work to do to counteract the damage - and I'm slowly... slowly... stepping up and clicking it back into gear.  There's this crazy inner strength I can't even begin to explain, that is pumping in my veins right now - and it doesn't care about what I've done previously or what I've already had to overcome. It's focused on where I am right now - the PRESENT Amy - and the value she has "just as she is, right now."


Maybe, then, I've been going about it all wrong - maybe I didn't need to "Find Amy" at all...  If the last few months of personal growth are anything to go by, there's elements of losing the old and gaining the new that hold intrinsic value.  A feeble "treasure hunt" for something I 'thought' I should have didn't yield results - but the emotional, dirty, gritty, heartfelt up-and-down reality did.

SO with that, I'm not going to summarise up this next chapter with a happy ending (the way I always seem to do, haha)...  I'm still a work in progress, and I'm quite ok with that, for now!  For the first time in a long time I'm excited about the hard work coming up (I say that after a big deep breath), and quite frankly, what will be will be.  Regardless of what happens next, I choose to be proactively happy...  I just need to remember that!

xx  :)

Finding that "Old Amy Mojo"

Well it's Monday, and it's officially the start of Week Four of the 1 Million Kilo Challenge, and Week Two of the 12WBT. Sitting here quite deflated this morning, and I'm a little bit upset about it - the scales and I are at loggerheads. I'm quite a pro at riding the up and downs of weightloss - 4 years of this torture, and the head games that go with letting one ridiculous number dictate your mood - I KNOW better... but today it just feels a little too hard...

Last week was one of my most amazing weeks in this new transition phase of "Finding Amy" - I literally started the week in tears. Valentine's Day. Yeah, need I say more?!   If you read my post from Valentine's Day last year (and quite frankly, I'm not prepared to read it again...), well, it's pretty much the same - just another year later.  THAT is what hurts the most - the void in my life right there hurts every day, but this one day of the year, it's just overly exaggerated, overly intense. It's just everywhere - knew it was coming (no shortage of crap commercialisation everywhere you'd turn!) - so was gearing myself up the few days before it to make sure I could "handle it, without too much issue".

Big FAIL. Woke up, had a text message to say "hope you're ok" - lost it entirely, had my cry, went back to sleep. Woke up, tried again, failed, had another cry, dragged my sorry arse out of bed and had a shower, had another cry...  UGH! Rinse and repeat?!

Anyhoos, needless to say, my day pretty much flat-lined emotionally. I don't care so much about flowers or chocolates - hell, you can buy nice flowers at Aldi for $5 - that's what I did last year!!  No, it's more about losing another year to 'solitude' - I vowed to myself last year that I wouldn't go through this again, that I wouldn't feel this upset or broken. When I woke up and realised I was right back there again, I was just plain hurt that I'd done it to myself... again! It's SO easy for me to shy away from people - it's a trait I've had from childhood - if you hide, you can get hurt, right?!  Wrong...

I was so highly strung by Tuesday afternoon, I sat here about ready to tear my hair out, berating myself for being worthless and causing my own issues; hating my body because THAT must be the reason why I'm so lonely (!!! - don't say a word...); and cranky at my world - again. I sat here at my desk, and watched the clock roll by, closer and closer to my scheduled RPM gym class - I'd even put my shoes and HRM on ready to go, trying to fight the emotions - but the tears were too strong, and I just sat here and cried again, wanted to scream, then let out a loud (sorry neighbours!) "Fu#k you gym!" and flat out refused to go because "it's not helping me anyway"... right?!

Wrong. I instantly stood up, grabbed my keys and towel and walked out the front door to the gym before I had a chance to even slightly think about it again - I was that upset already, there was NO point in the guilt-trip that was already brewing in my head, and the next set of tears that were like a swollen river about to burst through at any second...

Worst RPM performance EVER - but I went. I couldn't look at anyone, I couldn't really talk. I was churning so bad inside, I wanted to vomit. I couldn't breathe, my chest and eyes were stinging. I hated every minute of it - and not because it was exercise (I LOVE LOVE LOVE my RPM classes usually) but because I hated everything in my world, and the 'hate' was winning...  I hate THAT more than anything else, that's the "old Amy"s headspace, and I was shattered that it was so strong.

I walked home post-RPM mellow, but ok. The 'hurt' part was in decline - the day was nearly over - but the anger was starting to rise up instead. Yep, I'd let this one stupid day ruin what should have been another "new day" in my "here and now". By the time I made it home, I'm sure I was growing frown lines the size of canyons, and it was brewing really bad in the pit of my stomach.

A phone call later that night from a concerned friend - lots of tears and a tantrum later - just being able to verbalise why I was hurting so much (which is VERY hard for me to do - I usually talk through my fingers), and not because of the lonely factor, but because of my self-hatred for my body, the hatred I have for what I've done to my life (etc etc - I can't really pinpoint all the reasons) - with someone who understands WHY I feel this way about myself, without questioning, or berating me for being "silly" - was enough to calm me down, and let me breathe again...

I'm a pretty emotional person anyway - clearly - but when you're fighting past demons, fighting for a life you never even wanted, fighting against things you can't necessarily change... it's exhausting! There's no right or wrong answer to weightloss - but it's NEVER been just about losing kilos for me. It's about finding who I'm supposed to be, and making ME believe that I have a reason to still be here. You get to a point where you're so overloaded with emotions and internal conflict - where, in the past, I'd have just let it consume me - I can't let it do that now, but by god, it puts me through hell trying to fight through it.

... but I do. And I know I'm capable of that.  The last few years of breakdowns and breakthroughs have taught me that. As upset and hurt as I am "at the time", there's always reason behind it - and it always drives me to push further and try harder - so that I'll appreciate these beautiful things I'm missing, when they DO come into my life. I can't take them for granted, because I've had to work my arse off to have them in the first place... so I fight for them.


Woke up on Wednesday with an entirely new chapter at my disposal.... like the day of turmoil beforehand had come and gone like a bad storm - but the rain had washed my "space" clean again. I was back on track, eating well and went off to my scheduled Aqua class that night in a really calm, happy place. Did my class, with additional laps thereafter, and left recommitted and focused.

The rest of the week just grew from there - like something had clicked back into place, and I'd found a little spark of the "old Amy mojo" that used to be there!

Thursday I hit the gym for my RPM class (no tears this time!), then, as a total first (as RPM usually smashes me!) hit the treadmill for intervals thereafter - 25mins of fast walk/jogs and I even hit my highest ever 11kms/hr sprints! I was SO excited by that - I wasn't just jogging, I was RUNNING on that crazy treadmill, like a skinny person!!! I bounced home, and wasn't done yet! Walked through my front door, then right out the back door and jumped on the cross trainer for another 10mins, just because I could - and maxed out my calorie burn for the day over 1000!  I was ECSTATIC!!  It's the first time I've had the energy or inclination to hit a huge session like that in over 10 months - not since I burnt myself out with the Commando Challenge have I been able to do it since...  I felt AMAZING!

Woke up Friday morning on a total high - hit the gym by 9am for two brand new classes (I'd issued myself the challenge the night before - do I dare try new classes?!  HELL YEAH!!) - and tried the new Core Challenge class, and a Lite Pace aerobics class thereafter. Feeling SO good over the course of the day, I ended up running out the door in the afternoon for ANOTHER session - two laps of my river (about 5.5kms) - and nearly hit another 1000cals day for the effort!

In between all the training sessions, I was pumping out awesome food from the kitchen too - with the 1MKC really re-inspiring me to hit the cooking; and hitting all my client jobs in the middle - I was well and truly on a roll!  My week had TOTALLY turned itself around - and I was just riding the wave of sheer liberation, and LOTS of emotional relief!

Saturday was no different - I was on an absolute MISSION!  It takes A LOT for me to hit those 1000cals burn sessions these days - but I had the fire in my belly and had conquered a few pretty big demons over the course of the week.

Decided in my "infinite wisdom" that I should issue myself another personal challenge - and hit a "triple threat" sweat session on Saturday with a little gung-ho feisty passion I haven't seen come out in Amy in a really, really long time!!

I hit my Pump class (with my maximum weights on all areas) - followed by my new Body Balance class (that I'd only tried for the first time the week before!) - followed by a lap of Mount Panorama!!

Hitting the Mount, quarter of the way around, the rain drops start hitting me in the face... By the time I'd climbed to the top, it was pouring - but I had the biggest bloody smile on my face as I hit a jog across the top - the raindrops pelting me (mercilessly) in the eyes!!  On the decline, I took up my usual jog (albeit a little slower, given the slippery factor) and jogged the length of the decline, racing the water running down the edges of the track - rain streaming down my face, my shoes were totally drenched, my music player died, I couldn't see through the rain - it was the most AMAZING FEELING and I was absolutely loving it!!!   Funnily enough, I wasn't the only idiot out there at the time (haha) and the guy on the other side of the track who jogged the length of it parallel to me, I raced him down to the finish!  I STILL managed my course in my lowest ever PB time, despite the heavy waterlogged joggers squishing under my feet!!!  It was just plain AWESOME!

Three hours later, over 1000cals burnt - drenched to the absolute core... I felt ALIVE!  THIS has got to be what living is all about, right?!    I was LOVING it - and by god, I want MORE!!!


Sunday rolled around, and I'm off on - yet another - new challenge!  More "new" to add to my repertoire - Dragon Boating!  After such an intense training week, my poor little stiff and sore body "should" have been in Sunday rest mode - but I'd said yes to going out there with a couple of my local 12wbt ladies - and (as per my self-imposed declaration that I should stop hiding away from the world and opportunities - courtesy of the start of the week's "I've lost another year" reflection and tears) - out to Chifley Dam I went!  An hour later, my shoulders were were telling me I'd done alot more work than what my piddly little "220cals burnt" reading said - and this morning, the bones in my butt are VERY much telling me that I'm not the size I used to be (not enough padding for wooden benches, hahaha!!).   As for Dragon Boating - LOVED IT - and very much looking forward to doing more of it!  That's my third time 'paddling' - and that kayak of mine (that was bought about a year ago now, and STILL hasn't seen water yet!!) - needs to stop resting against the wall - it's now on the "near future" agenda to launch that baby!


... As for my mood this morning. Well, I'm a little disappointed in myself.  After such an amazing week - fighting through the hurt and finding myself rejoicing for so much "new" and rejoicing in finding a taste of that "old Amy mojo" - I'm disappointed that I've let the scales overrule that this morning.

I see it ALL the time with others - myself included - where we let one stupid, absolutely meaningless number on a set of scales override all those beautiful feelings and "wins" - just because the numbers "don't comply".  I know all my work will probably show up - later - and clearly all that work I put in last week was more for the benefit of my SOUL rather than the freaking scales... I know this, I've got this!  I'm better than this bullshit...

SO - I'm giving myself the "SUCK IT UP" and "pull your head in" cards today. Back to focusing on really good food (and not overindulging - nor self-sabotaging... both of which crept in last week because of the emotions)  - and I'm issuing myself more challenges again this week, in light of how AMAZING I felt for it last week!

I have Pump and Body Balance again tonight - and already aligning the rest of my week to look similar to what I pulled last week - and I'm stepping out of my comfort zone again by the weekend, with a social night out with my local 12wbt girls (many of which I haven't met before - that's always really really hard for me... I'm still very shy, still very reserved, still very insecure...).

No more pity-party for one over here - it ends the minute I click 'post' on this blog.  I want more of that amazing feeling I had last week - it's infectious - reconnecting with that "Old Amy Mojo" is my number one priority this week.  The scales can get stuffed!!

* * * * *

I found this pic this morning - when I was sitting here trying to fight the negatives... and I couldn't agree more, so wanted to share!  I CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY - because it DOES make me feel alive!!  That's what this is all about, after all!

"Finding Amy"

So here we are, already approaching the end of January (eek!) and I realised I haven't even written a blog post in aaaages.  Not that I haven't had anything worthwhile to say - just bulk of it has been brewing in my head, and a lack of time and energy to actually sit still long enough to write it out has come into play...

After ten months of insanity (haha!), a wad of publicity I never saw coming (nor was I ever truly prepared for), a few photoshoots and a whole wad of 'followers' later... some on and off financial issues, lots of give (.. and more give... and more give)... some massive life-lessons and big wake-up calls that not everyone is on the same wavelength as I am (boy, does that hurt!) and some heartbreak and serious exhaustion later...   Ahhh, this is where I admit to being a little defeatest and maybe even apologise for letting the team down...  

I lost Amy.... somewhere amongst the flash bulbs going off, the hundreds of messages I've received and replied to, the strain and pressure of the unfamiliar.  The faithful Amy of old (before publicity) went a little AWOL.  Got swept up in a world that was completely alien to the dreary pre-existence of the current - with attention that made me feel like I was WANTED - so alluring, yet so demanding... Being too inclined to help everyone else - and forget about the person in the background (who actually needed as much help as anyone) - I think I gave so much of my time and energy away to everyone else, I ended up voiding myself entirely. 

For the last ten months - amongst all the shenanigans - my body and head have not been in alignment.  As a result, I've literally gone nowhere on the weightloss, and despite the spotlight shining in my face (and me grimmacing cuz I can't see a thing behind it!) - sitting here reflecting on this a few weeks ago, amidst the heartache of realising I was on the verge of losing it all - I was pretty gutted.

I let myself down.  I let you all down.

"Before" I went public, I'd been persisting with my weightloss in secret. Totally private - hidden away and just dealing with it, slowly, bit by bit, on my own.  Aside from the forum members online, noone in "the real world" actually knew what it was I was doing... albeit, my clothes were getting baggier, I was obviously morphing into something alot smaller...  They just didn't (technically) know about it!  I wasn't carrying on, broadcasting my losses or blowing smoke up my own arse for the benefit of "attention seeking" (I'm not like that... despite what people may perceive and what I've been insulted with lately, I'm STILL not like that...) - I just kept it quiet, did what I had to do, and was just a shadow in the background...

I sat here in tears the other day - exhausted and feeling very isolated - actually remorseful for ever saying 'yes' to going public with my story.  It's not exactly easy sitting here with people begging you for answers, needing to know your "secrets" (of which there really isn't any!) and having others feel compelled to 'compete' with you for similar attention. Honestly, if you want the attention, you can have it!!  It's done me very little favour the last ten months - despite the big smiley photos - the "behind the scenes" side of it HURTS.  End of the day, I'm still "just Amy" - and that "just Amy" doesn't think very highly of herself!  I'm still a work in progress, I'm still trying to figure out who I am amongst everything else, find a place in this world that I didn't believe I deserved. I'm still lonely, still hiding away from people, still really "nothing" in the scheme of things... 

I'm struggling.   ... and if I'm completely honest, I'm still lost.


SO - putting my foot down recently, after crying my eyes out (...always the way!) I put some big decisions out there - some hard choices had to be made. I opted to stand back and not give myself away entirely (after all, I can't be of ANY benefit to anyone if there's nothing left of me to give), and after having a few of my local mentors / friends express their concern about my welfare, and having come so close to losing my footing (again) - it was time to make a few hard calls.   I've suffered the consequences - I've upset people, and in turn, I've been upset...


.... but times are changing!  Through hurt, there comes growth.  In growth, there comes renewed self-respect.  That self-respect is driving me forward into new areas, and I'm responding in ways I didn't have the energy to respond to the past ten months.

Operation: FIND AMY is well and truly under way!


I have big goals for this year ahead - things I haven't had the courage to "put out there" the way other goals have been made public before.  Some of them I'm keeping to myself - I owe myself a little privacy (haha!) and others I'm happy to scream from the rooftops!   When the time comes to talk about them, I will...

For now, though - for those that are worried or concerned... please don't be!  I'm actually really OK!  For the first time in months, I'm relieved, I'm getting my energy back, I'm rebuilding my business and the income is following slowly, and I'm actually HAPPY!  I feel like I can breathe again...  It's really difficult for me to upset people - as contrived as that sounds (I HATE conflict, and can't handle causing issues - and have been harbouring a huge amount of anxiety with people's invalid opinions of me) - but taking a step back to reevaluate what I was doing (or losing, in this instance) was enough for me to find the fear of failure, and that was a NON-option!  You know I'm far too stubborn (read: Taurean! haha) to let myself fall back into that trap - I've worked too hard, and too consistently to lose it all.  Old habits are really hard to break though, and "giving it all away to please everyone else" was REALLY easy to do - but it didn't win me friends or favours - it just left me depleted, anxious, upset, broke and left a whole wad of hurt on my plate!


SO, what does this mean for Amy now... What is it that I'm actually up to?!   (mwahahaha... I have plans, don't you worry about that!!)


Starting on Monday is the new 1 Million Kilo Challenge - ten weeks of a national initiative to get Aussies moving in the right direction with their weight and health goals.  My 300+ team members have humbled me no end!  I put myself out there (again!) to get people involved, and you guys haven't let me down!!  With so much support and enthusiasm, it wasn't hard to get swept up in that with everyone...  That's ONE of my strategies to help me reignite the Amy-mojo.

In conjunction with this, I'm in for the first round of 12wbt this year.  I'm structuring my next 12 weeks alongside so many others who have achieved so many amazing results - and I've already asked them to unleash their butt-kickings to help me.  Yep, I've asked for HELP.  *I* need help...

With that comes my brigade of beautiful local ladies, who have offered their help, guidance, support and love - in the flesh!  They see past the glamour photos, see Amy for just Amy, and understand why I'm hurting - can read past the "yeah I'm ok" and know when I need some home truths that others may be too scared to give me.  They're helping to rebuild me from within...  I've never been one to ask for help, or accept it without guilt, but I need help and I need to know I'm loved, and these girls are filling that void for me right now, and I'm so very grateful. 


There's a few other goals and strategies on the agenda too - I'm taking it all back to basics.  Trying to backtrack a little, and find where I lost myself in the process.  Reignite the fire to get my weightloss moving again - as much as I've "loved" being a 100kilo chick, it's not where I want to stay, indefinitely!!  It's time to set my goals again - and I really really really want to knock another ten kilos on the head, for good!

After that, it's time to look at the skin issue. This one's been brewing in the background for months now - and I haven't had the courage to really deal with it.  The excess skin upsets me like nothing else - it's hindering my progress and my self-esteem.  I can't stand what I see in the mirror and I'm suffering the consequences. It's NOT how it should be - not the skin, more in the head!!  I SHOULD be proud of myself, overwhelmingly happy with what I've achieved and what I've done to get to this point.  ... but that skin, just undermines EVERYTHING in my own head.  I can't quite explain it, and those who don't have the same issue can't understand it... but I'm hurting.  When / if I'm brave enough to deal with this one, it WILL form an integral part of my next chapter... but it's on the agenda for later this year. At the moment I still have to prove I'm capable of getting to my goal and EARNING the skin removal.

On top of that, I'm dealing with alot of personal stigma - relationships being on the top of the list.  Nothing has highlighted this one MORE than the introduction of this year's Biggest Loser series - all about singles and how their weight effects their relationships. Ouch.  This one's cutting me to the core... and it's something I really haven't spoken about in such 'candid' conversation as they're doing on the TV.  It's brought up alot of emotions and hurts that I've been suppressing (maybe not so successfully!) over the course of my transition - and very much influencing my decision to get myself "back together" and really knuckle down to finish what I started.   Just as so many of those contestants have said - so publicly - I want to be loved too...   I would give my right leg to be loved. 

... wouldn't be very helpful to give my right leg away... would make it hard to do my fun runs then... hahaha...  but you get my point.   And despite the contentious "you must love yourself first" stuff that's cropping up with it all - well, that just upsets me too...  It's just not that easy.   This one may form an entire new blog sometime soon... haha!


SO, in light of "losing" the last ten months filtering messages from hundreds of people, helping everyone else with their goals and giving so much of myself away in the process...  I lost Amy.   And now it's time to find her again.

Operation: FIND AMY is underway.  In the next 12 weeks I NEED to see change.  I need to see results.  I need to prove to myself that I haven't just wasted ten months of my life (given I've wasted ten YEARS of it prior to all this, I'm not ok with doing it again..) - I have a wad of goals that I will NOT forfeit this year, including weight loss, personal relationships, health and fitness goals and mending the broken heart.

Probably should prewarn you now that in amongst all that, there's bound to be alot of tears and tantrums - it's always the way, and I'm ok with this!  Every breakdown is a breakthrough, and I know in myself that I'm now ready to tackle the next batch.


The fire in my belly got a little spark the other day, when I had the opportunity to meet Commando Steve and one of his black-team boys, Graham, out here in Carcoar.  Seeing how well Graham is doing, how strong he is in the short time he's been with Steve, and having him turn around and tell me he knows of what I've done and had seen my profile...  it was humbling, to say the least!  When I told him to "just keep going!" - having him turn around and say "you too!" ... may have just been that little ignition fuel that I needed to stop the pity-party that's been raging in my head for months, and actually get off my arse and do something about it.  I just "get it" and maybe because he does too, it was enough for ME to feed a little mojo off him...   Either way, it helped!


I don't deserve respect unless I'm working for it - and right now, I'm not.  It's time to change that...  When I stop living off the recognition of something I've now "maintained" for ten months (I'm writing it off as "maintenance") - and actually start walking my talk, THAT is when I'll know I'm earning your respect and admiration again.

Right now, I don't deserve it...   I WILL find Amy again, and I WILL finish what I started... 

I do NOT want to come back in three months time and apologise for letting you down.  Again.

I do NOT want to question why I bothered to do what I have, or why I am the way I am again.

I WILL NOT give up.  Under any circumstances.  I will NOT give up on Amy.


Operation: FIND AMY...  I just want her back.