I have no clue.

I've hit a new low..........I found myself watching Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss edition, while stuffing my face with a Klondike bar. 

So here I sit, staring at the lap top for what seems like 40 years, wondering how to get all of these jumbled up thoughts and ideas down, in such a way as to not make people think I am bat shit crazy.  So I guess I'll just like 'top 10' it .........

1.  Honey Boo Boo child. Whoa girl...whoa. 

2. Skinny Jeans- again with this ladies? again??? Jeez-la-weez, get the friggin' hint already, just because they make them in your size, doesn't mean you should buy them. Muffin top? Oh no honey, you got the whole dang muffin hangin' out....girl put that away, no one wants to see all those jiggly bits, I know I don't...I see enough jiggly bits when I get in the shower.  Also, when I see dudes wearing them, it makes me wonder where they put their bits.....like, seriously......where? Do they tuck like Drag Queens? Are they unichs?.....I just don't know. 

3. STOP SPENDING BEYOND YOUR MEANS!!!!!!!!!! If that is too hard for you, then stop complaining about never having any money........I'm no spring chicken, and I have kids to think about, I can't have all the fancy shmancy crap I want, I can't go on awesome vacations, or buy the latest and greatest, but that doesn't bother me as much as listening to people bitch and complain about their lack of funds, when clearly they have a shit ton of gadgets and vacations, new cars, etc........how about you point me in the direction of that money tree you so obviously have, because I have to be doing something wrong here....

4. Negativity- man that's an ugly word, but boy have I seen  A LOT of it going around....like a  plague or something...I'm sorry you have a crap job, I'm sorry your food was cold, I'm sorry you have no cell phone service, no internet service...yadda yadda yadda...buck up little camper, at least you aren't living in some crazy dirt hut in the middle of BFE with malaria and leprosy......get a clue and be thankful about the good things in your life, can't find any? FIX IT.  No one is going to hand you sunshine and lollipops everyday and tell you how stinkin' awesome you are. 

5.  Coach Purses....HAHAHAHAHAHA everyone has one anymore...hell I even have one, it was the worst 70 bucks I've ever spent on a wallet in my life! I say wallet, because I have no clue how they classified it as a 'purse'.  I love me some $5.99 Wal-mart purses!! I also like to receive purses as gifts...hint. HAHAH. 

6. That damned paper towel holder in the kitchen is out to get me and my OCD.  Can you please STOP messing with me? GET IN YOUR PERFECTLY ANGLED CORNER! 

7. I lost my train of thought. 

8.  Sarcasm should be used in moderation, no one likes that crap 100% of the time- know the W's : when, where and who.......this is for you Chris. 

9. Parenting advice - is nice when asked for, otherwise it's just rude- get over yourself. 

10. One uppers - Oh yeah well I parachuted out of a helicopter that made a hole in my parachute and landed on the moon......if you have to try THAT hard to impress people then you have some serious issues bud.  I don't care if you landed on the moon booty naked, if you are a good person, who is nice and fun to be around then you shouldn't have to make up grandiose stories about saving 100 kittens from a basement fire with two broken legs and a migraine. 

A penny for your thoughts? 

Final Fantasitc 10

I've been absent from blogging for a while and although I feel somewhat guilty about leaving people hanging, I also struggle with the feeling of 'who cares'.  In my daydreams, I see a million people reading my blog and getting something out of it, but my head says " yeah right, who the heck would read you're elementary babbling" .....anyway I'm straying from what I really wanted to do, which was write the last in my series. It isn't the final last as my title suggests but the last for now......

As I've said before there are really a handful of things a struggle with on a daily basis. Daddy issues.....food addiction, and OCD.  It's not like these things are extremely tragic when compared to the struggles of others on a daily basis, but these are the things that make me tick I guess you could say.  I am finally at a point where I have resigned to the fact that I will always have daddy issues, I don't think they will ever go away, I do think that it has become a little easier as I've grown older.  As far as the food addiction is concerned, well.....that is an ongoing battle.  I struggle everyday on making good choices and trying to be a good example to my child.  Really this is what it boils down to, not making my son a carbon copy of myself, well the bad parts anyway.

. I don't want him to experience the pain of feeling like his dad doesn't love him....I don't want him to experience the pain of being addicted to food or anything else for that matter and I don't want him to experience the pain of OCD, obviously I can't control the latter, but I do have control over teaching him healthy food choices and I'm very lucky to have a husband who loves his son and shows him on a daily basis.


So how does one show their child how to make healthy choices when a food addiction is thrown into the mix? I have no clue.....well that isn't entirely true, but throw in the fact that I am a first time mom and am always second guessing or questioning  my food decisions, that is where it becomes tricky.  Look, I know I am not the first mom to feel like this, and I take comfort in knowing, that there are a million other people in the world who feel the same way I do.  How do I not mess my kid up for the rest of his life?? How do I not let him become an overweight kid? How do I ...just how do I...everything.

I am working my way through these questions, as best as I know how.  I'm not perfect and that makes me happy.   After everything....at the end of the day, none of my problems really matter, what matters is that I show my own child how much I love him, and how special and unique he is as a person.

I think this is a good place to end.......I don't want to complain anymore about my issues, or troubles. Hopefully someone out there somewhere feels like they aren't alone in their problems.

Nine.....just in time

I feel like I have covered the bases on most of the important issues in my life that have led me to the place I am now, of course I tried doing so without sounding like a twisted version of a Danielle Steele novel. I have thought about what my life 'story' would look like played out as a Telenovela, I think it would be pretty much the most awesome thing I have ever seen...but I am biased you know. 

 I am not addicted to drugs or alcohol I am addicted to food. 

I didn't think of it that way growing up, it was just a comfort to me then, and really it still is now.  People who have never had a weight problem often times see a "food" addiction as some sort of excuse for being lazy and gross, when in reality  is so far from the truth....most times anyway. Realistically most people who are over weight or obese got that way from some inner turmoil, some trauma, some event or events, it's not like we all woke up one morning and said.."gee I think I want to be morbidly obese that way I can feel even less about myself than I already do" . Getting to the point of doing something about it however, is a completely different issue.  When a person starts gaining weight, it is a downward spiral of not wanting to be active because it hurts, not because of laziness.  Ok I think I kinda made my point......a little....

I was recently diagnosed with OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  I know what you are thinking.....no I don't have any rituals like you see on TV where those poor individuals tap their left toe on a crack in the sidewalk 27 times before repeating 12 times. I don't have to have things in a certain order etc....before I talk about my OCD I think it is really important for me to try and explain as simply as I can what exactly happens to people with OCD.  The following two words have opened doors for me : Brain Lock.  This is exactly what happens to people with OCD. Their brains lock onto something and will not switch gears into rational thinking.  What you see on television is not how every person with OCD is, these are the very extreme cases and are used to draw in viewers.  I will give you an example, I wrote in a previous posting that when I was reprimanded at work for something that I did wrong and would obsess over it all night.....had I known then what I know now I might have saved myself from feeling like a crazy person.   

My OCD obviously manifested early on I just didn't know it.  People with OCD often times have other issues such as hoarding.  Again, the things you see on TV are the most extreme cases.  Looking back on my childhood, I see now that I had hoarding tendencies.  I never wanted to get rid of anything, everything had a story or special meaning to me.  Now I know, that most people in the world do this as well, but most people grow out of it and eventually get rid of the childish things that mean so much to us growing up, only to be followed by holding onto things that have a deeper meaning, things that have been passed down to us or special gifts. A good example would be family heirlooms, or special Christmas ornaments. 


I am so exactly the opposite these days, I have a rule when it comes to 'stuff' : If you haven't touched it, thought about it, worn it or seen it in a year, it gets donated or trashed.  I really believe that this is part of my OCD, feeling anxiety over seeing 'stuff' and feeling overwhelmed, and the overwhelming feeling of  not wanting but, needing to get rid of things. 


The only exception to my rule is, Jackson's baby things. Not everything, because I basically got rid of most of his baby stuff, but I did keep a few things, like his first pair of shoes, a couple of outfits that were my favorites, etc.  As much as I want to keep these items, I still battle with feeling anxiety over keeping them. 

After doing a lot of thinking about food addiction and OCD, I can't help but feel like these two monsters feed off of each other.  I can't help but feel like if I didn't have one, I wouldn't have the other...or maybe if one wasn't so bad the other wouldn't be either, if that makes sense. 

So where does this lead me to now? What's next? Stay tuned and maybe you'll find out.

Eight is enough

I continued to self medicate for the next few years.  I don't want to give the wrong impression and make you all think I was some hard core drug addict, when that wasn't it at all.  I was doing things that weren't healthy for me on many levels but I wasn't a daily user of any one substance (well...except food of course). Sounds kinda like denial right?!  I assure you this isn't the case. 

After a few years of being by myself I started to get very lonely and wanted to have someone special in my life.  I got a phone call out of the blue one day from 'him' and I wanted to hang up, my head told me to hang up.....but I didn't.  It wasn't long into the conversation the real reason he called me that day...to tell me he gotten some girl pregnant and his new baby was almost 5 months old.  I still thank my lucky stars that girl wasn't me ...this really was no big shock, he has two other kids by two different women.   After he told me that he wasn't with this girl anymore he started in on the "I've changed"..."I would never hurt you" " I've never stopped loving you" spiel, and after a few minutes the abused woman mentality kicked in again, and my loneliness was just the cherry on top of this hot mess sundae. 


It started again, he was charming, said all the right things, did all the right things, and like a fool I believed he really did change.  There was only one little problem with our perfect reunion...his new baby, and the fact that the baby's mom was a sorry excuse of a parent.  The next thing I know, we are sitting in a family law office speaking to a lawyer about 'him' getting custody of the baby.  Right around this time, I thought it would be awesome for us to live together so I went out and got my very first apartment.  I may have been a fool to get back together with 'him' but I was smart enough to think about covering my butt if things went downhill.  I was the only person listed on the lease, all the utilities were in my name so as far as anyone knew I was the only one living there. 


Of course by this time my mom knew we were living together. She had no idea how abusive he was to me the first time around.  After a few months and several court dates later, he was granted temporary sole physical and legal custody of the baby. We brought her to the apartment and I thought that I was going to have a happy little family.  I couldn't have been more wrong. 


Before long, I was the only one taking care of his baby, and bonding with her too.  I did everything for that little girl, not because I had to but because I wanted too. Her own biological mother had no interest in being there for her, so I tried to make up for that by making sure she knew how loved she was. I made sure to get her on a schedule, cuddled her every chance I got, gave her hugs and kisses every chance I got and told her I loved her. I treated her as if she were my own child.   


Not too long after she came to live with us he started coming home from work drunk...every single night.  It was only a matter of time before it started again, and it started right where it left off.  I tried my hardest to make sure this never went on in front of her....I wanted so badly to show her the love I felt like I never had from my father. I never wanted her to feel like I had felt growing up and as an adult.  I continued to allow him to be abusive, I stayed because I didn't want to leave her.  I wanted so much for her to actually be mine.  


Every time we would get into an argument I would call my mom because he wouldn't hurt me if I was on the phone with her, and I usually stayed on the phone long enough for him to get distracted with something. As soon as I heard him close the bathroom door I knew I was in the clear. Every night was the same routine, he would come home drunk cause a fight I would call my mom, he would get sick in the bathroom and then he would pass out in the bedroom.  Most nights I was able to avoid the physical part of it but not always.  


I started not being able to concentrate at work, and my stress levels were through the roof. I never wanted to go home after work and would feel sick to my stomach when he would pull up outside.  One night it all came to a head....my luck ran out and I wasn't able to get out of it again.  I won't go into the hairy details, but that night was the last straw for me. I couldn't take it anymore. The next day I met my mom after work for dinner and  told her what was going on and she told me what I needed to hear. She told me I deserved better and I could get better. She told me I had no other choice than to tell him he had to move out and that it was over.  I needed to understand that she wasn't my baby and never would be. I needed to get out now while I still could, and then we made a plan. 


I would go home, tell him it was over and that he had two weeks to get out of my apartment, then I would leave and go back to the restaurant where I  would meet back up with my mom. From there I would go to her house while she would head to the apartment and get some clothes for me.  Most of the plan worked the way it was supposed to, but instead of having her get my clothes I just barged in told him it was over, he had two weeks to get out and if he put one finger on me I would call the police, scream do whatever I had to do to get him arrested.  He just sat there. He let me get my stuff and leave without a fight.  I got in my car and I left for the last time. 

A few minutes after I pulled away my phone started ringing, I didn't answer the first 10 calls but I knew if I didn't answer it would just continue.  I finally answered and to my horror it was that precious little girl crying into the phone....he knew what that would do to me....he thought I would come screeching back to the apartment and everything would go back to his version of normal. I pulled over, hung the phone up and just cried, hearing her screaming for me felt like my heart was being pulled through my chest, and that description really doesn't do that feeling justice, it was so much more than that. I got a few more phone calls from him and I answered each one, and they were all the same. He would cry and tell me how sorry he was and how he would make it up to me.  I didn't fall for it, I knew it would never change and I had to be the one to break the cycle. 

A few days later a couple of friends decided they had enough of the mopey Jenny. They took me out for some cocktails and a good time, and towards the end of the night I started to let myself have some fun, after all I had a designated driver, I was of legal drinking age and dang it I hadn't had fun in so long.  I wasn't drunk, but I was warm and fuzzy for sure!  When we were leaving I asked the friend that was driving me to stop by my apartment for some more clothes. She asked me if I thought it was a good idea, and that maybe we should wait until the next day and send my mom to get the clothes.  Being warm, fuzzy and full of confidence I told her heck no and to get me over there.  Against her better judgement she obliged and off we went. 


When we got to my place I stuck my key in the door and it didn't work.  After we figured out that he had changed the locks I rang the doorbell like a crazy person.  As soon as he answered the door I knew something was up.....someone besides him was there.  I pushed passed him and headed for the bedroom......big mistake hahaha.  I opened the door to find his 'baby mama' laying in my bed,  in my brand new sheets and comforter I got for Christmas. I was beyond mad. I wasn't mad because he was already with someone, I was mad because of who it was, after everything I did for him and his baby to get her away from the worst mother I have ever encountered.....I was mad because I knew this wasn't the first time she had been in my apartment, I knew before but refused to accept it.  I'm sure you can imagine what when down from there.   It was then that he also switched personalities like he had done so many times before.  He was no longer the crying coward begging me to come back, he was the cocky , I'm going to do everything in my power to get back at you person.  This made it so much easier to be happy with the decision I made to leave that toxic relationship. 


I am so happy to say that this is the final chapter of that relationship.  I can also say that because I closed this door, a new one opened.  A door that has been full of surprises.....good ones.
  

Seven ...already???

Most of my friends were going to college right after high school, and I was extremely jealous.  I was happy for them to be starting a new chapter in their lives, but I was stuck.


I don't think I mentioned before that during high school many of my friends had jobs, working at the local movie theaters.  I was  jealous of that too, I wanted to get a job.....mom wouldn't let me work while in school because I was already not focused on that enough so the added distraction of working wasn't an option in her eyes.  After I graduated I  spent the rest of the summer with my friends getting into all kinds of shenanigans and was again going down the road of destruction.  In my heart I knew drinking wasn't a good idea. 


The thing about having an addict for a parent is that half of you is scared to death of becoming that  person, and the other half wants to have all the fun those bad things bring you.  I read somewhere that children of addicts are more likely to develop an addiction than that of their peers without.  How scary is that? I didn't realize it  but I was an addict. I was and still am addicted to food. 


College started and all my friends moved away. I was alone and rejected again.  I was doing nothing with my life and mom finally stepped in and told me I had two choices, get a job or go to community college.  The latter was not a choice for me in my eyes. I wasn't good at school the first time around so why would this be any different? So I got my very first job.  I got a job as a receptionist at a busy office and excelled at it.  For a while I looked forward to going to work and really enjoyed meeting people. I worked at an Escrow office so people were always in and out.  I made more money than anyone else I knew my age and I loved it.  

It was also this job that I was diagnosed with depression.  It's also when I started needing to hear that I did a good job, or that my co-workers and boss were pleased with my work.  It wasn't that I just liked hearing it...I needed it to function.  This isn't the reality of the workforce. Your boss and co-workers don't have time to tell you what a good job you are doing or how awesome you are...of course they have time to nit pick every little thing you do wrong.   When I would get reprimanded for doing something wrong it would consume me.  I would focus so hard on fixing that one thing, that I would neglect my other duties.  It was an obsession though, I couldn't help it. 


At work one day I was sitting at my desk and started to get a copper taste in my mouth and felt like I couldn't move.  The phone was ringing off the hook, but it was like I was in a trance, it completely freaked me out. Of course I got in trouble for that. We had a strict rule in the office that the phone couldn't ring more than twice unless you had a darn good reason for it to.  When I got home that night all I could think about was making sure I didn't do that again, I couldn't sleep that night .....over and over I kept telling myself that incident could never happen again, I had to make everyone happy. 


The next morning I was exhausted, but I got up and headed to the shower. I wasn't in the shower more than 10 minutes when I started feeling light headed, I knew I had to get myself out of the shower and ASAP because I was going to pass out. I yelled for my mom and sure enough by the time she came running I was out.  When I woke up a few minutes after that my mom had the phone in hand about to call 911.  As soon as I came around I started getting violently sick and very weak.  I had several more episodes like this over the next few weeks, including checking out at work, just like the first time. 

Long story short, I was having Absence Seizures  and  it was due to stress. I really wish I knew then what I know now about what was really going on with me.  Doc suggested I try stress relieving practices and that really helped for a while.  I had one more of those episodes, but that will be discussed later.


I have to apologize (again) for all of this jumping around, but I get it down as it comes, not to mention I get it down when I have the chance to have some kid free time....gotta love nap time =)  Hopefully it will get better as we get to the here and now, but in the mean time I really hope you find my story fascinating...maybe even relate to it on some level.

Simply six

The next three years of school are pretty much a blur with the exception of memories triggered by a song, or a feeling.  My Sophomore year of school was pretty much like my Freshman year with a steady weight gain.  By now I was used to being the fat friend, the one who none of the boys liked like 'that' but considered me one of their good friends.  I told myself this is where it was safe.  No one could break my heart in the friend zone.  I had a crush on each one of my guy friends at one point or another and would be so hurt when they liked someone else, or got a girlfriend.  It all led me to the same place,  this was the exact reason why my food was perfect.  It never hurt my feelings, was always there for me, made me feel good, and best of all NEVER rejected me. 

Over the summer going into my Junior year I went back to Arkansas and basically starved myself and when we would go out on the lake I would swim and do everything I possibly could to burn as much fat off my body as I could.  The week before I was to come home I started noticing my clothes not fitting, becoming looser....YES!!!!! It was working.  I remember getting off the airplane and meeting my mom, and the look on her face was priceless. It told me everything I needed to hear without saying a word. I looked so good! I got compliments all over the place from everyone about how good I looked and how much weight I had lost. I think in total I lost somewhere around 30lbs.  I was on cloud nine! 

Of course the other side of that was the inevitable downward spiral into feeling not good enough still...I should have lost more weight than that, I was still disgusting. So ...I ate....again. I gained most of it back, but not all...I found something more fun to do than eat. 

My Junior year my friends and I were non-stop on the go, one or the other had a license and car so there was no shortage of ditching, and going anywhere we could.  The weekends were filled with parties and being out until all hours of the night doing......well....I won't incriminate myself too much, but I am sure you can imagine...you were all teenagers once. 

Before I knew it I was a Senior, gained every last bit of that 30lbs back and then some. Nevertheless I was still having the time of my life.  I didn't care about going to school I had better things to do, more entertaining things.   It was all a facade, I wasn't having that much fun. I wanted everyone to think I was, so I did everything they did....I went along with whatever plan was set in motion to do everything we shouldn't have been doing...and sometimes more.  My relationship with my mom  was strained to say the least. We had always been very close and anyone can tell you the running joke then, and now is to 'cut the umbilical cord' we always did everything together and had as much fun as possible doing it.  I could tell my mom anything and knew I wouldn't be judged. We were always open like that. 

I saw how some of my friends' parents were, and felt lucky to have such an open mom. I wasn't afraid of telling her things.  So when I started doing all the bad things, staying out, stealing her car in the middle of the night...etc.. that closeness vanished, we stopped seeing eye to eye on a lot of things. For one I thought because I was almost 18 I could do anything I wanted, and obviously as any good parent would, she disagreed.   I knew she was a good mom and didn't deserve my lies and hateful words, but I couldn't help but be that person. I was out of control,  inside and out.  I was out of control with her because I was so out of control on the inside. Feeling guilty for doing all of the things deep down I knew I shouldn't have been doing, being mean to her and way too many others. 

Half way through my senior year I was told I wasn't on track to graduate and this wasn't a surprise, the summer before I had to go to summer school for bad grades and being absent.  This was different.  All of my friends were graduating and I didn't want to be the odd man out.  I broke down and told my mom and she did something for me that I will never be able to fully thank her for.  I don't know if I can ever express to her what her actions did for me.  

The next day I was sent to school with a list of tasks, I had to get a print out showing all my absent and tardy marks. I had to get a print out of my last  report card and contact information for all my teachers. Talk about sucky.  She wrote me an excuse note for every single tardy and absence.  Luckily I had done enough work in most of my classes to get a barely passing grade...except for one class.  This class I actually went to but because I sat next to other social butterflies, never did any work and was failing.  This was my English class.  I have always liked English, so on the rare occasion I did do the work, I always got good marks.  Mom convinced the teacher to let me do extra credit to get a passing grade so that I could graduate.  


Me graduating from High School was so important to my mom, because she didn't graduate. She met my father and left school to marry him. My teacher said, OK to the extra credit and I was told I had to write a 10 page report on a day in the life of a specific Author in their home town. I went so far above and beyond his requirements.....I wrote a 30 page paper, making it as detailed as possible. Researching everything on the author down to changing currency to his homeland currency.  I was so proud of that paper. I just knew I was going to get an A+++++ for it and I would graduate with my friends.  I went as far as to put the paper into individual protective plastic sheets in a binder with a cover ....I went all out. I wanted that A+. 

After class on Friday I presented my teacher with my awesome report.  He looked up at me over his glasses and didn't say one word, he just  took the report and went on about his business.  I was so disappointed at his reaction.   Finals started on Monday, I had studied all weekend doing the best I could for all of my classes. I passed all my final exams but had heard nothing about my extra credit report.   It was getting down to the wire, we had three days before graduation practice started and I hadn't heard anything about the report.  Finally just before the bell was going to ring to let us out, my teacher walked up to my desk and put the graded report face down in front of me.

I wanted so badly to snatch that report up and look at the grade, but I didn't,  I shoved it into my bag and waited for my mom to get home to look.  I wanted to show her the A in person so I could see her face and how proud she was going to be.  When she got home, I handed her the report without even looking at it, and she smiled and said great job honey. I'm proud of you.  I KNEW IT!!! I knew I got the grade I wanted and I couldn't get that paper out of her hand fast enough!!


C+.  I cried myself to sleep that night thinking once again I wasn't good enough. So all the next week ..I ate.  The day before everyone was going to start practice I was called into the counselors office.  I wanted to cry the whole way there, I just knew in my gut I wasn't going to be walking down the aisles with my peers waiting to receive that diploma. I knew in my gut I wasn't good enough.....and this time I had proof. 

I sat down in front of the counselor and waited for my bad news. He looked up at me and said, "I've been reviewing your file and I must say you have so much potential and yet you do nothing with it.  With your GPA you won't be able to get into a four year college.  However you will be able to attend a community college and with hard work you can eventually get into a University if you really want it."   I just sat there, I didn't care what he had to say, just tell me I'm a looser and I won't do anything with my life just like I had been telling myself.  Finally he said " Well I have good news, you are going to graduate with your class"  Ok great, can I just leave now......WAIT...WHAT?!  I just started sobbing in that poor mans office. He looked so uncomfortable.  When I was able to compose myself enough to stop crying, I wiped my tears, said thank you and left his office.   When I got home I called my mom and she already knew  and I could hear the relief in her voice. 

Graduating high school was by far one of the best days of my life.  I didn't understand then why I only received a C+ on that report when I worked so hard on it, but I do now and am so thankful that he even gave me the chance to do it. He wasn't obligated to let me do anything but he did. I know now that he didn't even read the report. My mom called him the day after I turned it in and he told her he had no intention of reading it, he just wanted to see that I made the effort to do it since I hadn't shown much effort the whole year. 



Thank you Mom,  you didn't have to do that for me but I know why you did.  I can never say thank you enough, and Thank you Mr. Young, you changed my life in a way that you'll never know.

High Five

I am going to go backwards a bit, because I feel like I am leaving out things that are all relevant to my journey, and how I got to the place I am now.  I'm sorry if that makes reading these hard, but a girls' gotta do what a girls' gotta do. 

When I was 8 my grandma was diagnosed with stage 4 non-Hodgkin lymphoma.  If you'd like to get the nitty gritty on that, you can read about it here.  As I said before in my earliest post I was extremely close to my grandparents and this was a beginning of an end for me.  My grandma researched all things cancer and treatment. She decided that eliminating and and all environmental things  she would be giving herself a natural cancer treatment. She went Vegan, cutting out everything that didn't grow from Mother Earth, and did other things like Wheat Grass colonic's and special all natural detox treatment centers, the whole shebang!  When she was diagnosed she was told that she had at most, and at best 6 months left before the cancer would take her life.  She lived three great years after that! 


During this time I ate as she ate, and led a relatively healthy lifestyle since I was with her most of the time.  When she died I was  devastated, the pain you feel in your whole body never really goes away when you loose a loved one, it just becomes a dull ache. 

Everything that I knew in my daily life was gone, and would never be back.  Grandma put me in dance class, had me take piano lessons and once we even took a Clogging class! We had so much fun in that class, and when it was over we would come back to her house, put on some Bluegrass music and dance around the house.  When she was gone....I didn't have those things anymore, and it really wasn't the dance or piano or classes....it was her, I didn't have her anymore. One of our most favorite things to do together was to lay in her bed and she would ask me "Jenny Jo, what would you like to talk about today?" and I would always say...Disneyland.   After she died I remember laying in her bed by myself wanting so badly to have that conversation just one last time.


As an adult, I often think about all of the things I never said to her as a kid, or the things I would do differently.... but don't we all do that?  Once she went to a treatment center in San Diego, and while there she found a street vendor who hand painted leather shoes with amazing scenery and brilliant colors. She bought two pairs of those shoes...one pair for her and one for me.  When she came home and gave me the shoes I thought they were the ugliest shoes I had ever seen and just knew I would be made fun of if I wore them to school. I tried so hard to look pleased and I know she saw the disappointment on my face.  I wore them once when I went out with her and then they sat in the back of my closet until they eventually disappeared. 


I wish I still had those shoes. 


She had gone to a different treatment center, and bought me an outfit  and mailed it to her house so that when we went down to visit her I could wear it for her.  My favorite color is purple and always has been, the outfit was purple with yellow and green flowers printed all over it, it was a small flower print so it made the outfit look really busy. It was a long sleeve button up shirt, with long pants.....did I mention it also had suspenders and a bow tie????? Again I was mortified, I hated that outfit, but I wore it for her once and never touched it again. 


I wish I still had that outfit. 


When I was in junior high, my weight skyrocketed and I was at the heaviest I had ever been at around 190lbs.  I was also about 4'10 so you can imagine I looked like an Oompa Loompa......but I had many friends and was always hanging out with someone. I was happy then, even with my grandma gone.  Guilt set in that I was happy even though grandma was gone and I ate everything in sight.  


Over the summer before I was to enter  high school I went to Arkansas and spent the summer with family.  I had a great time...unfortunately over the summer I developed a nasty rash that would NOT go away and it itched something fierce. It felt like no matter how much, or how hard I scratched the itching NEVER stopped. The rash was on the inside of my arms at the crook of my elbow and went down my forearms until it was almost at my wrists.  It was a living hell.  All day..itching...all night itching....we tried everything to help it, some things like cortisone cream would help for a few days, but then it would come back with a vengeance.





As if it isn't bad enough that I was now a Freshman in high school...the newbie...I had this ugly rash on my arms and face. I can only describe the rash on my face looking like clown make up, that huge red oblong smile thing they paint on....mine was worse.....it was flaky and scabbed and bight red...and itched incessantly.  So what did I do? I ate.....


Thankfully not long after I started school my mom had switched insurance carriers and we promptly got an appointment with a Dermatologist.  I was so excited that day! I wanted this stuff to be gone and forever! When the doctor finally came into the room, he looked at my face, and then down at my arms and with a tone in his voice that said... you idiot, I know exactly what it is he said..."Dear you have Eczema."  One word.... that was it....Eczema.....after living in my hell on earth for months, this guy just walked in and diagnosed me with a 10 second glance!!!! 

I picked up my prescriptions and didn't waste any time using them, and I swear it worked overnight. I woke up the next morning and it was almost all gone, and by the second day I was normal again!  Once my face was back to normal I met some new friends and was on my way to a wonderful high school experience.  My freshman year was a year of firsts for me, my first real crush, subsequently my first real boyfriend ( if that's what you want to call it hahaha) my first and certainly not last heartbreak, first fat insult hurled my way, and the first time I took a walk on the wild side.   I felt like I was having the time of my life. Looking at it from an adult perspective, while some of it was fun....most of it was self medicating, and stupid.  I was on a bullet train headed to Looserville.