She will be loved...

I needed to get outside for some fresh air this afternoon, move my body and just take some ‘time out’ from what’s been happening lately.  I stuck my headphones in and took off around my river circuit, with no expectations – I didn’t really care what I was doing, I just needed to move and let my brain take a moment to calm down. Been riding the emotional rollercoaster lately, over-thinking everything, and its taking its toll. Another breakdown post-gym yesterday, sitting in the carpark unable to even drive away.  I felt so bloody alone.  I sought solace in hugging my baby niece - pure innocence, I stood in my sister's loungeroom and cried with that baby in my arms, til I had no tears left... I've never had anything to do with babies, in fact I feared them (!) - but she's magic.  She heals.

I realised half way around the river this afternoon, that I was narrating a blog in my head – I’m not a verbal person – everything manifests in my head, and on days like today, I realise when I get to this point the only way I can release it, is to type…   

~ ~ ~

I’m fighting a broken heart at the moment. This is all new to me.  Not the broken heart bit – I reckon I’m a pro at that, have been fighting that since I was a little kid when the freaking bullying began…  No, this is a broken heart of the real broken hearted variety – and something I’ve not been able to let go of the past week. I messed up last weekend, big time. I hurt someone I care about, in a way that just shouldn’t have happened – but it’s not unique, it seems to be perpetual.

The more I’ve thought about this since – between fits of tears and severe self-deprecation – the more I realise I have a pattern going on here... and one that needs to be broken.

I’m 34 years old, and I’ve never had a ‘real relationship’ (however you classify these things these days – or maybe I should say a ‘traditional relationship’ of the dating, get together, see each other regularly variety). I’ve never had a longterm boyfriend, there's only been one, and up until early last year, had never really been on a date. Up until my first kiss – just a couple of years ago – I actually thought I was a total freak of nature, that I was that repulsive and disgraceful that noone in their right mind wanted to know me, touch me, kiss me, love me. I felt vile – a true monster – too shameful to be seen with or know.

I honestly thought with the weightloss would come a release from that self-inflicted vile thinking…  but the two years following my massive weightloss, and life has sent me on one cruel mission after another. It’s like I’ve fast-tracked all those emotions and life-lessons of 'growing up' in such a short space of time, my head swims with them all.

I didn’t get a magic “happy ending” when I halved my size – instead it left me with this whirlwind of superficial and maniacal back-patting that was so alien to me! Suddenly I went from being intensely invisible to having a spotlight shone in my face, and the crazy bravado that comes with “being amazing” (which I have NEVER labelled myself – this has always come externally) came with it this intense pedestal that I found myself sitting on – but was as lonely up there as I’d been down at the bottom!

Yes, while you’re sitting up there, you’d think it’d be sweet and pretty, and the world would be your oyster!   … but at some point, the people below walked away, and the ladder seemed to be missing! I didn’t belong up there.  The last year or so, I’ve felt like I nose-dived off the edge and landed face first on the ground – and had a few people just wipe their feet over the top of me as they passed on by… !!  Ok, slightly dramatic – but you get the drift.  I went from feeling like “nothing” – to something – to nothing again, and somehow I lost my goals and pride in my achievements in the process. I seemed to go backwards...


When I was at my heaviest, I just assumed I had no future – I never believed I’d get to have a partner, babies, a house, travel, etc. I’ve posted about it in the past, and I’ve had beautiful messages sent back to perk me up and tell me to keep on believing, that “these will happen when they’re meant to”…  that the only way anyone can ever love me is if I love myself first.  (there lies my problem..)

… and that’s cool. I believe that too. Yes, what will happen will happen, when it’s ready. And yes, I’ve been working – very hard – on making me a better version of myself in the process.  So maybe, one day, I’ll be ‘fit’  (not bicep-crunching fit – just “suitable”) enough for someone to love me.  Not love what I’ve done or what I do for them, or even because of how I look now – but love ME, every messy bit of me.    .. because I’m now learning to love myself too.

… but I guess this is where my issue lies. I don’t quite know who that ME is yet – I’m not yet in love with her, though I really DO like her!   All the mish-mash of changes, the self-development, the heartbreak, the new experiences, the bad meltdowns, the cross-contamination of good and bad…  it’s fucking exhausting!!  Over five and a half years in a massive life transformation, and I’m exhausted.  I’m emotionally bloated!!

The weightloss has its place – but it’s certainly not my focus at this moment in time.  Six months post-surgery and I’m still struggling to accept what’s happened to my body – though this IS changing, and I’ll write more when I can mentally process it further.  I’m actually beginning to LIKE what I look like – a freaking miracle in itself!  There’s more changes I need/want, but I’m beginning to like what I see, because it's too freaking exhausting hating it anymore...  There’s a body confidence coming through that’s very new for me – pushing boundaries I didn’t dare before. Walking around in singlets and undies, letting people see my not-so-perfect bulges..  I used to loathe my body with such an intensity, sheer shame and hatred…

Let’s explore that for a minute… it plays a key role in my relationships development.


I’ve been bullied since I was about five years old – mentally and verbally abused (let’s cut to the chase and not dance around the topic)…  I’ve suffered depression, suicidal tendencies, and I’ve lived a life-sentence of isolation and loneliness that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

At my lowest point, I believed I was worth more in a casket, that I didn’t deserve to breathe the same air everyone else was privy to – and felt obligated to shy away from EVERYONE, the less people I knew, the less people I’d hurt when I just “went away”.   It did me no favours – it just made me more isolated and alien to people, more socially awkward, and severely lonely.

When I broke through a few years ago with my weightloss goals, suddenly I had people come out of the woodwork from all angles – and it scared me. All I could do was smile and throw myself around like I knew what I was doing – “fake it til you make it” style – but I was a broken soul underneath, debilitated with anxiety about being found out as a “fraud” (I say that loosely – I was the real deal, but I felt like I had nothing to offer – I had zero self worth)… and even now, I seriously question what value I have for people when I’m still struggling piecing myself together.

On a physical level, my hatred for my body was so intense, I couldn’t let anyone touch me – in my head, I believed I made people’s skin crawl, like there were maggots crawling on my skin, I was so revolting in my own perception.  (sorry for the hideous visual – but that’s how graphically it played out in my thinking…)…  and it wasn’t until last year that I was actually able to break through that.   33 years old, and I’d barely let anyone touch me…

That’s just not cool.

Over the years, I’d built up some seriously thick, super high walls – they were there to ‘protect me’ I guess, but I think they served to hinder me more than protect.  … more so this side of my development than at the beginning. It seems these walls of mine are almost impenetrable sometimes, and these days it does more damage than good!


…but the couple of guys that have been able to break through – I don’t know how they did it, maybe there was a chink in my armour, or maybe they were just there “in the right moment” to push a brick or two out of the way…   I’m not sure, but I know they had their place.   My story isn’t ‘pretty’, and the more I start really looking at it, the more I realise why I am the way I am right now…

~ ~ ~ 

 
I have massive trust issues – and I have good reason behind them.  It was years and years ago, I was VERY young (early uni days) and I ended up with a crush on an Internet guy.  I wish I had a better story to tell than this, but this experience was one of the keys to my hiding away and questioning the validity of anyone who wanted to initiate a relationship with me.  For eighteen months I was in contact with this “internet guy” from Sydney – this was back in the days of early SMS, before Facebook made the world tiny and ‘stalking’ was so accessible!  I’d seen a few photos of him, and he was cute – why the hell he’d be interested in me was beyond my comprehension!  We bonded in a chatroom, which lead to SMS messages and emails. He always seemed so keen on me… but he had a dark history, and I guess the timing of this one was right in line when my own issues were manifesting into their worst. I was intensely lonely – I was struggling with the depression and suicidal stuff (which I really didn’t understand at the time – this only served to exacerbate them)… and I guess it was a case of “misery loves company” and I needed someone to ‘care’.  Long story short, in that eighteen months, I never once met him, never talked to him on the phone (sms worked, but the phone didnt?!), he knew where I lived and worked, would send me flowers every time we’d fight, but I wasn’t allowed to know his address.  He’d binge drink and verbally abuse me via text, proclaiming that I’d ‘leave him’ and that he’d kill himself if I did – and I’d be lured back in with fear of hurting him, and I’d pain for him – I’d want to fix and heal him – and he’d take advantage of that.

In the middle of all this, I lost my Nana – her death came as a shock for the family, and it broke my heart – she was one of the few people in my life who I felt really saw me, one of my few ‘friends’… When I was away for her funeral, he proclaimed to have travelled to see me, stealing his dad’s car in the process, and I’d supposedly already ‘gone’ by the time he got to my house.  He was allegedly physically abused, beaten up, and hospitalised for his actions.    … and I spent my time mourning my Nana, and feeling responsible for his pain and the cruelty he’d suffered “because of me”. My guilt was intolerable, and my attention was redirected back to him, trying to make it better – make him hurt less. All became a ‘forgive and forget’ matter and time ticked over.

Months later, he confessed that he’d been drunk one night and slept with his best friend – she ended up pregnant – which broke me completely.  I shut down and wanted it all to just go away – but he threatened suicide again, and I was swung back into the game, with lots of promises that things would be ok and that he loved me so much more for forgiving him this indiscretion.  When the baby was born, I just wanted to be there – to be a part of it – but I was denied, and it upset me that I wasn’t even allowed to be part of this special time in his life.  I couldn’t talk to him – there were things I couldn’t handle anymore, it was out of control, I was losing myself to hideous jealousy and what felt like a game – but I was lured into the drama.

A message from his sister to say he’d shot himself after the birth of his daughter, he was in hospital, “because you’d leave him” – and never to contact him again…  that was my trigger.  I hurt myself after that – I have scars on my arms and on my belly – it hurt less to carve words in my skin than it did the pain in my heart.  I’d wake up on the floor from crying myself to sleep, and I’d pray that he’d just message me – the silence was deadly, and still breaks me now.  I felt invisible and worthless.  It did so much damage, that I actually believed my heart was dead inside…  It was like a really bad dream – it existed through messages and emails, not reality - I never physically met the guy, never spoke to him, don’t even know if he really existed…  It was the most hideous mental abuse I’ve ever endured – and I let it fester for eighteen months, just because I was so lonely…  just because I wanted to be loved.

I hid myself away after that – for years and years. Went through all my mental torture and self-hatred – my physical self-eating abuse was out of control, and I hid my shame behind fake smiles and closed doors.  My scars only served to remind me that I wasn’t worthy of real love, and how much I hated myself and my body – and just helped fuel the cycle of depression and anger that helped steal a decade of my life away.

Crap.  Too full on huh?  Yep…


It wasn’t until just a few years ago that I started to poke my head out to see if maybe – just maybe – I might be a little bit worth something to someone. This was during my transition – I’d lost some weight by now, and I was feeling a bit better about myself…   I had so many people telling me I had such a “pretty face”… yet I shrugged it off, because I had nothing to back it up, and as always, I was the girl noone wanted…  !


My first kiss with a REAL guy was like a comedy of errors – and oh my gosh, I’ll be forever embarrassed and sorry to him…  I stood there bent over in fits of laughter, tears streaming down my face, I couldn’t talk because I couldn’t breathe,  I was just in hysterics.  I honestly don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life as in that moment – it was hysterical to me to think someone could even WANT to kiss me – why the hell would he want to do that, was he nuts?!!    We got along well enough – we were friends – I wasn’t overly comfortable though, I was still trying to break through being shy and invisible, but he was nice and that was cool.   But I felt stupid - there were 12 year olds with more relationship experience than me…  (oh crap, that statement still stands right now.  Argh. ) 

BUT it was one of my ‘moments’ when I realised that maybe I wasn’t as revolting as I thought I actually was – if he could think I was worth kissing, then maybe I wasn’t so gross after all?    But it never went anywhere – his companionship at the time was worth more than inexperienced kisses – I was still overly cautious about being touched, and I was too busy trying to run away, expecting the rejection at any given moment….  but it opened a little sneaky doorway for me. Maybe it was ok for me to want to have someone in my life after all?


Boy two – he came out of nowhere. Literally. I think the universe sent this one on purpose – he was one of my biggest life lessons.  I didn’t know this when we met initially, but it turned out he’d practically “halved himself” too – and when I found this out, when I was brave enough to tell him my story, we bonded instantly. Prior to that, I’d been rejected so many times when my weightloss story was revealed… I thought I was destined to be rejected as the former-fat-girl who noone wanted!    It was a miracle to me to find someone who just understood – understood my fears and hatred of my body – understood the intensity of making massive physical changes.   When we met, it was probably the first and only time I’d ever been comfortable with someone – I let him get close to me, he’d hug me and I wouldn’t flinch the way I would with everyone else. Everyone else I worried that I made them feel sick touching me – but not him – I don’t really understand that, but I think it was just because he’d lived what I had, he wouldn’t judge me on my body. I WANTED him to sit next to me – I wanted the physical “invisible shield of personal space” to be invaded – I wanted him to break through.  The few times I spent time with him, the more I’d push my own boundaries, and I was beginning to make headway with the self-hatred and pushing everyone away…  I honestly thought I would be ok fighting these things with him – because “he’d understand”.

… but I underestimated how alike we were, how alike our pain was, how debilitating our histories, combined, was going to be.  I wanted to help him as much as he wanted to help me – and in doing that, we couldn’t help ourselves.

I was asked not to talk about us, he didn’t want it ‘public’ – and that hurt too.  At the time, I just wanted to stand on a rooftop and yell out to the world that I’d been knocked off my ‘freak perch’ and maybe (just maybe) someone had it in them to love me…  I was so crazy proud of him, I wanted people to know that - but I don’t know that he felt the same about me… 

A massive breakdown a few months later was my undoing – when I couldn’t handle the anguish in my head and heart after a once-off counseling session – so much change to process, and so much emotional upheaval – the day I sat on his bed and cried and cried in front of him – that was it for us. It was too much for him to handle – it was too much like his own pain, I was bringing up all his history trying to deal with my own…

A week of silence – that hideous silence - and it was enough to break my heart entirely.  I’d opened up to a guy who I believed was my soul mate, and in the course of trying to break free of my hatred and pains, I broke his heart as much as it broke my own.  My vulnerability and naivety was right there on a platter, and it was given straight back to me to deal with on my own.  That was over a year ago now, but my regret in hurting him has never gone away.

I hid myself away after that – I held onto that pain for a long time and let it consume me. I was like a teenager finding love and then losing it for the first time – and I’m pretty sure I even voiced the “my life is over” mantra of a young broken heart. All the life lessons that I’d missed out on when everyone else went through this growing up in high school – hit me as an adult instead…  and there’s not much reprieve for you when everyone else has already “been there done that” a dozen times over… !   I can’t blame them – it’s like a really tragic romance novel, it’s just old and boring – there’s no massive drama involved, just “kids stuff”.

…. But that’s what happens when you’ve missed out on everything – and it’s not juvenile and “silly” when it stings fresh and new.  When you’re 33, not 13, trying to delve into “this thing called love” and have absolutely no idea what you’re doing… it pains.  Maybe it never stops paining… ?!

I felt like I needed to apologise to everyone for being so juvenile…  and it was just easier to hide away and pretend it didn’t happen instead. Was gutted and embarrassed, and I was deadset certain noone else would ever bother to break through – I was too internally ugly, too broken – I’d rebuilt those monster walls up again.


But I’m Taurean… and the loneliness taunts me!  It flicks red flags in my face, and I want to charge and take them out – make it ‘not so real’…   I don’t want isolation to be my lot in life.

There’s been a few hit and misses this year – when I sort of came out of hiding again.  I guess I let my guard down… or maybe I purposefully put myself out there to test the waters.  I loathe this loneliness, and it seems to have changed my directive and goals. I did NOT work this hard to change my life to have “lonely” spit in my face for the rest of my days. There is no way I want to spend my life alone – I want to share all the ups and downs, be someone’s someone – have fun, cry, laugh, explore, engage…   I want to live a life with someone else in it.

… so I’d stick my finger out there and see if I’d get a bite… but I’m ALWAYS terrified I’m going to end up broken again.  Absolutely terrified of the rejection and finding myself carved up on the floor again…

… and it's happened a few times.  Hit and miss – painful rejection.  I’d question and berate myself for not being enough – still being too big – not funny or smart enough – not pretty enough – not a size 10 model with long legs and big boobs – too shy, too nervous, too emotional… too Amy.


I met someone a few months ago that, again, came out of nowhere. Again, the universe was sending me lessons. He travelled interstate to “give me a hug” – after I admitted to him that I hadn’t even been hugged in a really long time.  There’s my clincher right there – basic human contact is difficult for me.  It mocks and eludes me.  I’ve been on my own since I was 17 – basic hugs and human contact aren’t a daily occurrence – and I’m often too shy to ask when I need them the most.

He travelled all the way to show me someone cared. Wrapped his arms around me and hugged me – he didn’t flinch or make faces because I made his skin crawl…  he bear hugged me like I was a real person, someone worthy of affection. He pushed my boundaries – without even realising – he was in my house, in my face, in my zone – and I NEEDED him to be HIM, just as he was, in that moment. Every time I wanted to run and hide, he was there – he’d hold my hand or stroke my arm – at one point I was in tears when he rubbed my back, just because I’d never really had that before, and was so intensely obvious to me how much I NEEDED this basic human contact.  I couldn’t verbalise my shame in being a grown woman who’d never been comfortable being touched.  But he was just there.  His natural affection was breaking my walls…

Our constant talking – nightly skype sessions, limitless sms messages – indepth emotional conversations – they were my lifeline.  I loved spending my time with him – my energy and my focus was his.   I felt needed.  He’s cried with me, I’ve hurt with him, I’ve opened up and told him things that I never trusted anyone else with…  He was in my ‘moment in time’ when I needed someone to be there, during all this crazy transitioning, and all the turmoil of my body changes and the hatred-cycles that this year that threatened to take me down with – he was there to show me that I was worthy.


But my intolerable fear has made an absolute mockery out of this for me.  I’m writing this with a broken heart.  Everything that I fear the most in opening my heart to someone – everything that would instantaneously shut me down in the past and have me run away because I didn’t deserve to be loved or cared for…   I created it – I’ve made it happen.

… and I hate it.  I hate that I’ve caused my own grief and my own broken heart.  I hate that all the anguish of my past has ruined something beautiful – irrespective of what it was/could have been.  It turned me into a monster – it made me turn my back on him, turned me cold and nasty.  My fear of falling for a guy who maybe couldn’t return the feelings, created a problem that shouldn’t have happened…  broke hearts and caused hurt that shouldn’t have been.

All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to see beyond my walls – see ME underneath all the skin and false bravado.  I want (need) someone to hold my hand and help me out of the hole I’ve created for myself…   I see other people, and I’m SO envious of what they have.  It never mattered when I saw no future for myself, it stung that I was alone, but it never mattered, it was easier that way…   Not now.  Every day fucking hurts.  Every goddammed day it hurts that I’m alone. It torments me, like I’m still not enough – still haven’t worked hard enough – still don’t deserve the most precious thing in life = love.   I still have a body that resents me – a brain that’s confused - I have no idea what to do with myself or where I go from here – and a heart that threatens to stop beating if I don’t stop beating it up!!

I resent that I hurt so much – I am TRYING my hardest to turn this all around, make my life better, like who I am and have purpose and a future… but I hurt, and I’m lonely…. and I need someone to hold my hand.

I resent, even more, that I have the capacity to hurt someone else the way I do.   It makes me want to go away and hide again, because I’m “too hard” to deal with – I’m too much work for someone.   My own lack of self-worth tells me I’m not worth their time, energy or heart – and I fucking HATE THAT.  I don’t agree with it – but it fights me. How is it other people can have love and relationships, even when they don’t like who they are?  Someone still loves them enough to help push….   God, I truly envy that.


I had a friend tell me that she admired my ‘bravery’ in seeking love – but I don’t feel very brave. I’m vulnerable and I’m hurting – and every time I open up my heart, and it gets given back to me, it breaks me that little bit more.

But I guess it’s no different than what I did with my weightloss – I NEVER believed I could turn that around, that I deserved to be anything more than ‘worthless’ a few years ago… but blind faith lead me here (with lots of trial and error along the way) – and I guess this is no different.  It’s all intertwined.    This wouldn’t be happening had it not been for the other.


I have a heart full to bursting, ready to burn a hole in someone’s hand, if only they’d take it…!  I’m honest, I’m loyal, I’m giving… but I’m not perfect.  I’m still learning… and I’m terrified.

I just wish they’d see that there’s a reason I choose them – there’s something beautiful I see in THEM that resonates something special to me – something I’m lacking, something I need, something that makes them unique to ME…  I’ve never been one to just pick randomly, for the sake of “filling a void” – that’d never be enough for me.   I guess that’s why it hurts me – I see the heart in someone, but I just wish they could see it in me.

I didn’t grow up in a touchy-feely, verbal “I love you” family – we weren’t like that – added to my shying away from all things “relationship” because of my size and esteem issues - has only served to make it even harder for me to breach the divide. It’s hard for me to make that jump – to let someone in without feeling like the floor is going to give way beneath me.   …and yet I long to have someone in my life, to share everything with, to say ‘I love you’ and know its felt, wanted and returned.


These ‘life lessons’ are testing me. I KNOW it’s rebuilding me, I know they have their place, and I know it’s all worth it in the end…  but right now I’d give anything for a little helping hand, a little touch of “Disney”. Snow White was freaking comatose and she still managed to find someone….

For all the tears and tantrums lately, I know there’s benefit in everything I’m going through. If I didn’t care, it would never hurt this much.   My heart beats and breaks BECAUSE I care.

… and I know I’ll keep on pushing through.   Because I have to.   I want… and I deserve… to be loved too.
 

My life in "chaos"

Well it's been a LONG time between blog posts - the last one being quite sad.... but as time has it, things get busy or wayward, and I've managed to lose a couple of months between posts just being caught up in "life" as it is now!

... which is what leads me into this post.  My life - as I know it - is in utter chaos!!

I'm about to hit my four-month post-surgery timeframe in a couple of days - and whilst I'd love to bring you beautiful "hey look at my awesome belly!" photos and posts, I simply can't... Things haven't really turned out the way I wanted them to, and in that, I've had to decipher and deal with the hurts and haunts that go with a body-gone-wrong.  I'm still not quite ready to unleash that blog post or pics yet (it's still simmering inside) - but when or if I do, then I do.


The last few months have been nothing short of a huge wakeup call. Not all pretty, that's for sure.  I put so much value on that surgery meaning something more than it was - with the "not so successful" results being what they are - it's left me intensely shunted and empty.   ... and leaves alot to be desired from something that was supposed to be so "fabulous" and life changing.

Having said that, life changing... yes.  But not in the way I thought it would be...   I've grown up and learnt so much about myself because of it, I'm actually very grateful for the "failure".  I'll explain more why at some point, but right now, there's a whole wad of self-reflection going on here - and none of it was done standing in front of a mirror admiring the body or the scales!  ;)

... but back to my CURRENT story!

Why does de-hoarding create so much mess?! ha!

My life is currently in CHAOS.  No word of a lie.  Post-surgery blues hit thick and fast, and I thought when I fought my way through that heavy black fog, that things would just somehow go back to normal. I'd retain my usual "stubborn Taurean, just get on with it" attitude and that'd be that - I'd just clean it up and be done with it. 

Dammit - I was SO WRONG.   ... again.  

Nope - instead the Universe decided to do some heavy cutting and shifting itself.  It's given me a HUGE wakeup call - fast tracked so much upheaval and emotion in such a short space of time - if my head wasn't swimming before, it's in the freaking fast-lane of the Olympics right now!

My rental house is being terminated - over a decade I've been living here. It was my 'safe zone', my home. For those not in the know, I live on my own (have done since I was 17) - just me and my cat. In the years of bad headspace, my "safe zone" was always my house - where I could hide and be myself. In the early stages of my 'transformation', my very private backyard was where I'd hide while trying to exercise. It's small, homely, and cheap (very cheap actually - I've been incredibly lucky to have such low rent for a decade - it's one of the only reasons I was able to go solo with my business for a few years - and give myself the time to make changes for my health).  It absolutely broke my heart when I was told I had to leave...  absolutely heartbroken.


On top of that, I had a few knee-jerk moments at work - having gone back to a former employer early this year for full-time wages (the lack of funds from flying solo was limiting my capabilities to do the things I really wanted to do... like travel, buy clothes, gym fees, etc...).  Going back to work for someone else was a CHOICE - not one that I took lightly - but one I felt would help me keep moving in the right direction and give me opportunity (... bloody money!).  But of late, I've felt a little deflated - and had me questioning whether going 'back' to this zone was actually helping me move forward at all...   (I'm still pondering this decision).   Career-wise, I don't really know what to do with myself...


And adding to that, it seems the Universe wanted to throw the spotlight on me for a little male attention... but instead of making that nice and pretty, it came with lots of face slaps, heart-ripping-outta-your-chest kind of interaction.  ... because 'rejection' is good for the soul, perhaps?!!  haha... !  (NOT).  It's also brought with it some incredible new people that have opened my eyes to me NOT being the hideous monster I thought I visually was, and some male "you are actually beautiful Amy" feedback... A slight revelation that took it's sweet arse time in coming into play, but one I'm still trying to learn.  If I ever have a chance of finding love, then I have to stop telling them all I'm revolting!  (duly noted, no butt-kicking required!). 


Add to this the fact my body is still distorted (NOT helping with the body-loathing, incidentally!) - with swelling and issues post-surgery (yep, four months later and I'm still struggling with issues) - and a recent follow up trip with the Surgeon to say "yes, it didn't go as planned.. the infection did do damage..." finally put my mind to rest that I wasn't just making it up - that there IS issues to deal with. So be it.    My weight and health are still trying to come back into play - but it's just not happening, irrespective of what I'm doing.   I'm back to training with the weights I was doing in Pump pre-surgery, and can definitely feel the difference when I run - but I swell like a crazy person, my clothes don't fit right, I have an over-hang on my gut that breaks my heart... and I'm still a little "bruised" all round!   I'm allowed to be disappointed, but being 'allowed' doesn't necessarily take away the heartache!


I took a massive step away from the groups and networking - as some of you may have noticed - to try and make sense of all the upsets and hurt that are undermining my hard work (it has been a really rough couple of years on the headspace - none more so than the last few months!).  I attended a couple of group sessions with Emazon (one pre-surgery, and one post-surgery - the huge difference between my mindset from one phase to the other is ridiculous - I plummeted with the issues. I'll blog about this at another time though. ps: her courses are awesome!) - and was given the opportunity to do a special 1:1 session with her recently - to try and break through this hideous confusion and upset that is just slowly compounding and crushing me.

Honestly, I'm not doing so "fabulously" - but in saying that, I'm not falling apart either. It's a really weird place I'm in right now - it's neither fear nor neglect driving this boat - but I can't really figure out what's happening either.

Uncharted territory, perhaps? Probably. Must be...


The Universe is very much conspiring - the ties that have held me solid to this "lifestyle" for over half my life - they've been cut. Something/someone out there has released me - I think I wasn't brave enough to do that for myself (despite everything else I've deliberately changed so far, to date - I wasn't brave enough to cut the big ties...) ....  and as liberating as that may sound, it's freaking terrifying!

I simply don't know what to do - where to go - what I want!  I simply wasn't ready - but I can also acutely acknowledge that there's no "right time" for any of this either - 6 months from now without the forced changes, I'd have been living the same day-in-day-out duldrums and STILL hating my life....  so maybe the timing is, in fact, freaking perfect?!

I have cried brutal hurtful tears in the past - I have hurt in ways that just breaks my heart thinking about it now....  but I've always fought my way through, and I've always found a braver Amy in the process.     ... the tears that go with this one, though, are different again.  I don't fully understand them.

Bye-bye old friend...  my biceps salute you!

Maybe I'm reminiscing... but then I wonder WHY - the things that have passed are gone and they were so empty, I simply don't 'miss' what I didn't like...    So maybe I'm celebrating the fact that I can now move on?  But I'm terrified to let it all go?!   So maybe I'm just in a space of self-respect and "forward" momentum...  but part of me questions if I have the energy to go through and deal with all the 'new' on its way (and part of me knows, deep down, that I'll have no issue with it - I AM a freaking Ninja, and I'll deal with it as it hits).  Or maybe it's just fear of the unknown?  So much confusion, so many 'maybes'.


Today I began the mass-cull of a decade's worth of (what can only be described as) "hoarding"....  My house is currently in a state of total upheaval and chaos - and my neurotic running from one room to another today went hand in hand with it!

I'm an incredibly sentimental girl - I find it really hard to part with things... which is not necessarily always 'healthy'... !!!   I said goodbye to my old weights bench yesterday, and today did my first car-boot drop of goodies to St Vinnies.  My garbage bins are overflowing for pickup tomorrow morning, and there's a trailer out the back packed with stuff for the tip. 

I've already dispersed with some of my most valued 'treasures' - they've been temporarily relocated to my sister's house to keep them safe and still 'present' (framed gloves of my late Nana's - they were the first things off the wall - and it absolutely broke my heart to take them down - my house lost its 'soul' the minute they were gone).  Bit by bit my house is being pulled to pieces - and every time I remove something, box it up, bin or redistribute it... a little piece of me aches inside.  Some of it good ache - some of it not.

Who needs two legs when you can fit into one?

Today I ransacked my bedroom and pulled everything out from under the bed.  Time flies and you simply "forget"... but when I pulled out a box that had a wad of material in it, I'm pretty sure I had a puzzled look on my face - I couldn't remember why it was there. When I dragged it out to look further, I let out a bit of a "oh my god!".  Inside the box was four pairs of homemade pants - my attempts at trying to make clothes big enough to fit me when I simply couldn't buy them large enough.  Three of them were unfinished - and the fourth bore no real resemblance to store-bought pants (my sewing skills leave alot to be desired, haha!). I ran out my bedroom and had my mum take a photo of them against me - I was just dumbfounded.

You simply forget.  The emotions never leave you (I don't know if they ever will?) - but the hardcore 'touchy feely' reality was there in my hands, and I was torn between saying "this is crazy RIDICULOUS!" through to "this is just SO SAD".  Reality being, that was my hard work - in my hands - in front of me. The person behind the pants - who right now feels like a deflated failure for all the things going wrong - is literally half the person I was 6 years ago.   .... that was my visual reminder today - this is all happening right now, making room for something NEW, because the girl 6 years ago made it happen.


But numbers and sizes don't mean much to me anymore - I have no idea what 'size' those pants are, nor do I care!  It doesn't really mean much to me in this moment of my life.  The emotions, however, are absolutely PARAMOUNT.   My achievement isn't in numbers - it's in changing my entire life....  and the pants are just ONE tiny (!) visual.  The chaos of a decade's worth of hoarding 'things' to fill the emptiness in my heart is the other - and now I just want them GONE.  I want the mess and the useless junk GONE - I want a fresh slate, I want the things I've never had, I want happiness and growth - and PEOPLE and love and 'things' in my life that mean so much more to me than "superficial junk" things that only served to fill my emptiness with mess... 

That's something that the new "grown up Amy" is discovering post-surgery.  The let down and emotional emptiness that has hit me lately has been my ultimate wake up call.  The distress when I realise I have no idea what to do with myself, where to go, who I want in my life...  these are the LIFE THINGS I've worked my arse off to open doors to have - and the Universe bloody knew it - and it's been thrown hardcore in my face.  I opened a freaking door... and now I'm being forced to peek my shy head out the front...

So I'll just ponder some more as I pack up my house, go do my job each day, and feel myself slowly healing from the inside out. And yes, I'll probably cry more buckets of tears in the next few weeks when the changes and stress becomes a little too much for one heart to bear - but I'll brush them away and just get on with the job.

... but the difference, now, is that these tears are healthy - tears of gratitude for the changes, and appreciation of the 'release'....  tears of reflection and forgiveness... tears of hope and encouragement - washing away the dust (years and years of dust) and making way for the NEW.  There's 'beautiful' in everything new, and I've just been given the chance to step into a whole world of it...

My life is in chaos.... bittersweet, freaking awesome chaos!

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!

Fun runs, photo shoots, wild weekends and 'finales'... part one

Ohhhh my gosh, where do I even begin with the catch-ups on all the events that have happened recently!  It has been an INSANE whirlwind of one-after-the-other events, and I'm sitting here hellishly exhausted, but wanted to get it out before the manic workload kicked in bright and early tomorrow morning, with Christmas right behind it!!

So here goes...  (coming at you in two parts - figured you'd need a break in between as much as I do writing it, haha!)

My Super-Twin Lynda and I with our medals!!

WELL, after a few solid weeks of training, leading up to the Melbourne 'City to Sea' 14kms run, and having my focus so committed on my fitness for THAT event, I pretty much gave up on my weightloss goals. The body wasn't in the mood to entertain any of those shenanigans, and I was busting some serious tail in prep for my next major event without really seeing any downward-scales results! (super frustrating...) 

Busting-butt so much, in fact, that the same two-kilos kept creeping up and down, up and down on the scales for the past FIVE months - and very much doing my head in!!  BUT my fitness - and my 'reason' - was flying in leaps and bounds!
I was training consistently for weeks and weeks, with major sessions including a lap of Mount Panorama with 10kgs on my back, the following week with 12kgs on my back, and the following week after that, a double lap (over 12kms no backpack!!) - and that was on top of my usual routines!  I was fighting through hideous blisters, and pain through my joints - but I was pushing through it in a way I've never had focus nor drive before!

Heading to Melbourne, I was so primed for my 14kms, I set out to crack it in two hours - and was ECSTATIC when I came in under my goal - I ran longer stints, and pushed myself as hard as I could go. The body was fatigued BEFORE I hit Melbourne, but I was "in my zone" and I wanted that goal - and by god, the medal I walked away with for this one was well and truly earnt!!

* * * * *

A little TLC for the soul -
Great Ocean Road

Now that my major event was over, I collapsed! Quite literally... The body was exhausted, my head was in pieces... I wasn't quite "ok" - I'd been so brutally focused on my training, covering up all the gaps in my mindset and 'life' that wasn't exactly working the way I wanted it to... The frustrations of a body that was holding steadfast to the weight, and feeling like a "failure" (despite the intensity of my fitness)...  Just so many mind games, and I really didn't know where to start.

Taking my "focus" away, having already completed my major event goal, I felt suddenly VERY empty. Very deflated. And as my last blog post highlighted, very "lost" indeed... (can read that here).  The head was out of whack, and I KNEW that well and truly before I left for my trip away - it was my strategic escape-route - needed time out, to figure things out, and give myself a breather from my little world.

... but when you do that, you open yourself up to a world of hurt! It's all fine and dandy to "contain and compress" all the issues - but it only lasts until you take off that lid... and they all come flooding out again!

I sat on my butt (for the bulk part - albeit being a tourist!) and took some needed "time out" for the week after my Melbourne run - and gave myself time to just enjoy what I was down there to enjoy...  "Amy Time" - something I really haven't given myself in ages - a chance to reconnect with ME!

So busy appeasing everyone else, trying to do as much as I could for everyone else, and gloss over the things I really didn't have the energy left to contend with - my can of worms was well and truly open, and it was time to sort the buggers out!!

* * * * *

I went kayaking with the fams
... something I'd have never been
confident enough to do before!

A week of 'Amy Time' - and finding a sense of freedom and growth was a self-discovery I've never really had - and was a little overwhelming!

Realising I was a GROWN UP and could do whatever I wanted, when I liked, as I pleased... was a tad upset to realise I was still so "confined" in all my own expectations OR the expectations I believed I still had controlling me!

For an independent, "no-ties", single girl... I was really quite upset to realise how chained to pleasing everyone else I truly am! ... and for what?!  Was it me trying to acquire the acknowledgement of others, or was that me having a lack of self-worth and value still?!

Going out and "just being" or "just doing" all the things that others quite often take for granted - walking through the shopping centre (without being the biggest one there), going for a walk down the beach (in a pair of swimmers and boardies for the first time ever!!), even getting on a kayak and just DOING something that I'm so excited by... they were HUGE things for me! It wasn't a "holiday" - it was learning how to be AMY - "just as she is"... 

SO much running through my head...  Big wad of emotions inside, was just churning and churning...

Got to meet Kelly at the Geelong run -
one of my gorgeous Aim Trainers!

A week of 'no pressure' (but MUCH going on in the head...) - my little trip to Victoria was extended somewhat, to cater for a second running stint!

The Run Geelong - 12kms - exactly a week after my Melbourne - and I went into this one ON MY OWN (albeit with mum and dad chasing me around Geelong with a camera, haha!)  This time I was stronger, faster, fitter, not so fatigued! 

I SMASHED this run and loved every kilometre of it! My body and my head were much more aligned, and the only person I was doing this one for was ME - nothing to prove, no expectations, I was out there RUNNING and I was freaking LOVING IT!

I came in with another fabulous time, and felt so empowered by this circuit - I could FEEL my energy levels on the rise again, my body wasn't nearly as fatigued after the week's break, and I felt so bloody good afterwards! No medals for this one (boooo!) but I walked away a freaking champion after this one - I felt so good!

* * * * *

Hanging Rock

On our return trip, we stopped at Hanging Rock. It was just a few years prior that I'd stopped here with my sister under the guise that I was determined to climb that thing! It was only a few months after I'd started my weightloss, and I was still HUGE - I huffed and puffed and complained the entire way up that mountain, thinking it was ENORMOUS, and wanted to cry... Felt incredibly conspicuous and ridiculous - and didn't dare go to the top. I was in agony - bright red - sweating like a pig... oh my gosh, can still remember it so clearly!!

When we stopped here for a picnic lunch on our trip home, I had no intentions of formally walking the track again.. it just "kind of happened..."  - and even now, I have this smile on my face, because I can't believe what happened!

Out fluffing around with my camera (as I always do!) I started to walk up to the rock faces for a little reminiscent squizzy. I was wearing a skirt, and three tops (I was SO cold, even on a great sunny day - curse of a smaller body not yet thermo-regulating itself properly!!) - and just some little ballet flats on my feet. I wasn't dressed appropriately for a 'workout' so didn't intend on climbing the mountain...

... which I only realised when I reached the first major summit of the climb! Not only had I walked the entire incline, but I'd climbed the rock stairs, ducked and weaved, and made it to the first main area without even meaning to!

To say it hit me with a little jolt of "OMFG" when I was up there taking my photos again is a bit of an understatement... I've been STRUGGLING in a really hideously, intense way with my self-perception and body issues the last six months, feeling like the girl I used to be, just in a smaller package (which the brain can't register)... and here I was, in that exact same place, just a few years later - and I'd barely broken a sweat!! 

My "reality" just started to kick in... I'm not that girl anymore. I'm not that size. I'm not that unfit. I'm no longer the big-girl hanging her head in shame, trying to camouflage her excessive breathing (and nearly passing out!) because she's ashamed of how unfit she is and doesn't want anyone to hear her panting...  I near bounced up that mountain, with a huge smile on my face, and the only time I stopped was to take my jacket off because I was FINALLY WARM!!!!

I had a little WOW moment... got back in the car, and we drove home...  It really didn't hit me until I put my 'before and afters' together when I got home - I'd forgotten I even had the photos from before (in my quest to never have photos taken, it's a wonder they exist at all!), and how funny that they'd replicated themselves a few years later with the 'new me' without even meaning to! I had a third little win on my Melbourne/Geelong trip, and all together, they were the catalyst for what followed....

 

 

* * * * *

Coming home from my Victorian trip, with a lack of new goals set in place... I felt a little lost!  I seemed to have stirred up quite the hornet's nest in my head though - the time out was great for the body, but the head was taking a beating! Not in a negative way - more in a "time to work this shit out" way!

Pitfall was bringing home my four-kilo-bloated-belly-baby!!!  I was DISGUSTED!!!  Bad enough I've been fighting the same two-kilo up and down gains, but the moment I saw the scales back up to 105kgs, that was it. There was hell to pay... and noone to blame but ME! I'd eaten hideously - out of my routine and comfort zone, I'd eaten anything that came even remotely close to my face - which included fish and chips, a chicken burger, copious amounts of cookies, ice cream, snacks... I even hoovered a pie on our way home. A PIE!  UGH!  I don't eat that shit anymore... !!!!

Any wonder I felt like an elephant when I walked back through my door?!!  Bloated, bad skin, hideously sick in the belly...

CONFESSION TIME: I haven't logged or tracked my calories or food intake FOR MONTHS!  Time-poor and then pure laziness kicked in. I hazard a guess that irrespective of still eating as well as I do, I was eating TOO MUCH - and that coinciding with the muscle-creation going on in my body - NATURALLY there'd be no movement on the scales!   I was literally maintaining - my fitness was through the roof, but my body was just maintaining itself - huge energy expenditure, huge calorie intake - it was just protecting itself!
... and if I take that even one step further... THAT is the maintenance mode I need to learn IN THE FUTURE!!  When I'm more in my goal-weight zone and happy with my size - THAT is exactly the ratio I'll be working on THEN!

... BUT (for now) - in weightloss mode - too much food and too much over-training CLEARLY doesn't work!


As soon as I got back home, I was back into it! Tracking my food, logging my cals... Nothing special or out of the ordinary in my food intake - I just "went clean" and started eating my allowance each day. The first week home, I did ZERO exercise - but stuck to my 1600cals a day... and within a week and a half, not only had I dropped my insane holiday-bloat, but I'd cracked that pesky "plateau" number that's been haunting me for FIVE MONTHS!!!   I lost a HUGE amount of weight in a seriously short space of time - something I've NEVER seen my body do, and hazard a guess I'd be lucky to see again!!!  7.5 kilos in a week and a half... one word: INSANE!!

I literally just shrug my shoulders with a stupified look on my face! How the hell I pulled that, I have no idea...  All I can assume is that MUSCLE IS KING!!!  That is what I've been working on FOR FIVE MONTHS - and I reckon as soon as I cleaned up my eating, the body kicked straight back into gear! 

There's alot to be said about "taking a break" and letting your body re-adjust itself. I like to think I know what's best - but fact of the matter is THE BODY is the driver - always has been - always will be! It knows me better than I know myself (haha) - and I really need to stop thinking I can overrule what it chooses to do sometimes!!  It's done it before - and no doubt will do it again - it's here to protect me, look after me, serve me...who am I to think I know better?!!  We're a TEAM - and we only work when we work TOGETHER!

A week after coming home from my holidays, I seemed to be back in the game! My eating was fabulous, my body finally responding... A week after my last exercise session (Run Geelong), and I hit a lap of my favourite old river circuit, just to "ease" myself back into the exercise...  (you can only live off "sheer dumb luck" for results for so long, haha)...


I SMASHED IT!!!  Not only did I smash the course 'in general' - but I added an extra couple of kilometres to my track and STILL made it back in just a couple minutes over my previous PB! Can't begin to even express how ECSTATIC I was to do that...

... and a few days later, I hit my old faithful Mount Panorama again... and SMASHED THAT TOO!!!

My body was fighting back!  My weight had dropped, I was back in double-digits, I was fitter, stronger, rejuvenated... even my head was cooperating for a change!

Did I dare say I was finally BACK IN THE GAME?!!


.... and then the Universe spun me around... we weren't done... !!


..... to be continued... !!  

;)

Lost...

Wrote this one last week while I was away on holidays.....  It reads somewhat like a diary entry - I guess it literally was?!  Me sitting with a notepad (for lack of blog availability) and writing out my thoughts...

--------------------

You know it's a pretty sad state of affairs when you have that realisation that despite having nowhere to go, noone to see, nowhere to be... you actually realise just how truly lost you are underneath the daily grinds of jobs, schedules, deadlines, expectations... etc etc.

Having set out on yet another sweaty-adventure recently - my City 2 Sea 14kms in Melbourne - with my sister and "Super Twin" Lynda in tow, I was in a little denial about what this 'get out of town' card truly was.

For a few months I've been harbouring the start of "doubt" - filtering through the thought system like a cancer - threatening to undo my focus and unleash havoc - but I've held strong and stayed on track. My City 2 Sea challenge always my beacon ahead keeping me in check.

For weeks I'd been training up for the day - my fitness is at an all time high. I've been a regular gym-junkie; paraded myself multiple times over Mount Panorama, even brutalised the feet with two stints of a 10-12kgs backpack on my shoulders to make it harder / up the intensity and endurance. I even hit a double-lap of the Mountain before I left on my Melbourne trip a few days before, just to push it into my head how ready I really was.

By the time I made it to Melbourne, I WAS running on pure excitement. I left Bathurst in a hurry. Finalised a few jobs, put the others 'on hold' and ran out the door.

As addicted to these fun-runs as I am, it wasn't the only driving force behind fleeing my life...

I needed a break. From everything. A change of scenery, a change of pace, new sights, challenges, faces... the works.

And running off to do a 14kms fun-run was ample excuse enough! The City 2 Sea itself was FABULOUS!!   ... and I was super happy with my "1hr 57mins" time. I walked (albeit shuffled) away with my medal, a very happy girl.

... until a couple days later. After both my sister and Lynda left, I was left to my own devices.

... and it was then that I realised just how lost I truly was. Having finished the goal that had been my driving force for the past couple months, left me a little abandoned, quite winded.

No pressing client deadlines, no full-time internet access (which takes up SO much of my time usually - responding to emails and questions; looking after my FB page; keeping in contact with everyone)...  I had no commitments and my 'reason' for the trip was already complete!

I felt completely lost.

It rattled me. It's a really horrible feeling not knowing where you want to be - what you want to do. Feeling completely obsolete - it hurt to the core!!

I was given the keys to my Auntie's car and told I could basically come and go as I pleased. What a weird feeling to have - there with all the freedom in the world and I had no idea what to do with it!  (Ironic really, I'm self-employed, live on my own, no ties... I already DO have all the freedom in the world, and still feel 'obligated' elsewhere)...

I've never had that confidence or curiosity enough to jump in the car and "just go somewhere" - I'm a planner and things like that I've actually avoided from sheer lack of confidence in myself.

Butterflies in my tummy told me that I was questioning my ability to drive anywhere - yet the possibility of actually doing something new "just for me" was almost overwhelming!!

"Have GPS - will travel?!!"

Jumped in the car today and managed to find my way to my grandpa's house on my own (... a necessity!  After all, I had the dessert for lunch, haha!)

Jumping back in the car later, a trip around the Geelong CBD and beyond, and I was almost "cocky" driving around like I knew where I was going and had some reason to do it!!!

A walk around the local area on my own, and I was pretty chuffed! Not bad for the girl with no sense of direction, no confidence to do these things in 'unknown locations'....

Hitting the beach in swimmers and boardies... wearing a singlet to the supermarket... walking into the plaza and going clothes shopping, "just like a normal person"....  oh my god...  I can't even begin to explain how liberated I felt! It was empowering! My first ever holiday that I actually felt like I existed!!!    (... and how ironic that I was struggling with feeling so irrelevant...!!)



I came on my adventure knowing I'd left behind a wad of nagging questions about my future...  I knew "I wasn't quite right" but really hadn't taken the time to acknowledge it in its entirity.

Wasn't until I felt "completely lost" from my lack of pressing commitmets that I realised the lack of substance that all these commitments actually were hiding...

THIS was my universe telling me it's time to sort myself out. Get some structure and goals into place. Put into practice new adventures and challenges so I DO have "somewhere to go and a reason to get there" - my future.  The one I've been trying to believe in since I started my life transformation...

Without that, you're stagnant. Going nowhere, and having nothing to keep you moving ahead.

Big decisions on the horizon - do I uproot myself from the "comfortable security" of my everyday current life?  - go in search of the things I'm still missing??  Or do I step it up with what I already love in the place I feel most comfortable in and keep building on what I've done so far...

Time to ask the big questions. There's so much more to this huge life transition than just my weightloss...  It just feels so empty now.

I've opened the floodgates... must be time to get out there and make waves?!

-------------------- 

SO as it turned out, a couple days later I did a SECOND fun-run - Run Geelong, for 12kms - on my own... and absolutely loved every kilometre of it!   I completed this run in about 1hr 35mins and smashed out so many running intervals, I was absolutely STOKED!  It wasn't pre-planned, just heard about it while we were in town visiting the relatives, and had to do it - because that's now what I do!

The week off between events - and the break it gave my body - paid off.  I came home feeling reenergised and raring to go.  Taking a 'break' from reality was a strategic move - I needed OUT from my world for a while....Coming home after, I felt like I'd actually achieved that!

I'd "calmed" the soul and soothed the lingering questions - was all set to get myself back into my business, and put the weightloss "job" aside for a while. Give my body and head a break - and really teach myself how to LIKE the body I am in, appreciate it "as it is" and the person I've become...

 -------------------- 

A little note to self I typed on my phone on the drive home...  

Learning to be 'normal'...  I just want to be normal.  I don't plan on being a SLAVE to this weightloss thing for the rest of my life... I see it in other people, the things they say and how they talk about themselves and their weight - and it verges on obsession. I don't want to be the person that's always fluffing on about the food I eat, what exercise I do - there's much more to AMY than what the scales say, what I weigh, how many calories I've eaten today, what size clothing label is sewn into my collar....

My little trip away has been great for me - made me realise how much I DON'T want to obsess like that for the rest of my life...  how much more "alive" I feel just being me!  So much wasted time and nonsensical whinging about something that will ALWAYS come and go. My body and I will be working on this for life - so be it - but I don't want to be a slave to it forever...  Driving me insane with the constant anxiety of what a set of scales says!! 

I want balance and flexibility.  I want to be healthy and fit.  I want to be STRONG.  I want to feel beautiful in my skin.  I want to be loved and to love myself.  I want to be ME - not an invalidated statistic... 

--------------------

I thought I'd found my sense of reasoning again...  but the Universe had other plans....


Am currently in an "emotional limbo" right about now...  my heart is broken.  Not yet ready to go into specifics on the public platform here - but I'm shattered with what's happened since I came home...

Just when you think you're 'ok' (and you've spent the better part of the entire week trying to learn how to do that...) - it doesn't take much to derail you again.

.. fighting the 'lost' feeling...   I know I'm far too stubborn to let it win, but by god it drains you....