all in all..

It has been an awesome week.

My workouts have been steady and I'm loving them. I haven't skimped or skipped any. If I can get my eating right I'll be down to a science. So I'm back to eating every 3 - 4 hours and the brown rice. It's important to me because eating has become an emotional thing and I know that I shouldn't be eating emotionally but with performance and sustenance in mind.

Many people these days associate eating with everything but what it's supposed to be for. Maintaining and producing energy. We associate it with celebrations, depressions, etc..and this is where eating disorders come into play. I've been on every side of the eating disorder circle and I'm trying to get my head right so I can re-learn and rehabilitate myself without drugs and doctors. I don't want people to think that I recommend that for everyone. I know the triggers now and I know I'm not in a danger zone. It's something I can do with consistancy. I don't have bulemia and I'm not anorexic so there's no need to have a doctor supervise me. People that genuinely need help should get it.

I like the feeling of empowerment that I get when I finish a hard workout and I get really angry when depression keeps me from my workouts, so I'm hoping that I can force my mind into this balanced state so I don't lose track of my goals or set myself back.

I love the relaxation that I've been getting lately. Being offline has really made me focus on things that are important and it's relieved a lot of stress for me. I have more 'me' time as you can see and it's been theraputic in ways I could never even put into words. I'm much more calm and relaxed. The "Old Me" for sure.

I think that's all for today.

easy, breezy..

The last couple days have been really relaxing. I've started my own personal workouts again, outside of the classes I teach in the mornings. I do 1/2 an hour on the (monsterous) stair machine and then try to do another 1/2 hour of something else depending on how much I did in the morning.

Yesterday I was just so happy to get the 1/2 hour on the stair machine banged out after teaching step (1/2 hour) and pilates (1 hour) that morning. I wanted to swim but I just didn't have it in me. Laps are pretty relaxing as well as good exercise so I try to fit it in when I can.

It's starting to pay off, finally. I see some progress which is nice since I'm constantly trying to encourage others to reach their goals and it's showing in the mirror for me.

Trying to be a mom to two teenagers, a pre-teen and a 6 yr old is hard enough. Add being bi-polar to the mix and trying to cheer myself to my own goals is like skating uphill but I'm trying to keep my determination.

I'm tired of sinking into the tarpit of despair and disappointing my kids, friends and most of all, myself.

Breathing..is life. Being able to smell the roses is a bonus.

W-T-F

So I've been busting my ass on the house. I'm tired of it being sterile white and having no color. I'm tired of it looking like I don't give a shit about it (which I didn't, before). I put a lot of work into it and I -still- have to ride people in the house to pick up after themselves.

I mean -- seriously. What in the fuck is so hard about washing your dish or doing 7 dinner dishes (including the pots!) because I don't feel well that night? The lack of respect is astounding. I can't even explain it in words how shitty it makes me feel that I put so much work into the house and not one person could even load a gd dishwasher so that when I woke up, I didn't have it to do.

They might as well just bend over and ask me to wipe their ass, too.

This is what I deal with day in and day out and they wonder why I gave up before and just let it go to shit. This is the reason. I can't function like this. Things have to be neat or I get depressed. It's a sickness, I know but....help me out just a little, huh?

I make big meals for dinner with little mess. I'm not asking them to clean shit off the walls. I'm asking them to clean an effin' crock pot for Christ's sake. I try to clean as I go because *I* do the damn dishes most of the time and I'd like to sit down after dinner and relax after picking up after everyone. And if *I* don't do the dishes, the dishes get half assed done. Don't get put away, etc, etc...

I'm just disgusted this morning. I barely got out of my room after taking the sheets off to be washed, wandered into the kitchen and saw the mess like a slap in the face. I mean, I was sick and they left them there like "oh well, she'll get to them in the morning". Just...rude.

Gotta love being a mother.

Genesis..

I don't know where to start. Everytime I start a blog or diary, I think I can keep up with it but I cannot. My thoughts and senses are so fragile and sacred, revealing them feels more like a mortal sin than expression. I have only my art for that. My little graphic profiles that I make for my "AOL Friends" here and there. Even that joy starts to wane.

What is left, are all these thoughts. Static that buzzes around in my mind until I'm overflowing with it and I feel like the person standing next to me can hear it.

I'm not schitzo. I'm just ..me.

People often say, "you have no idea" but do they really believe that? I used to. I've met a few that were like me and it's always so foreign, like meeting someone from another planet who speaks your language.

Who knows if I'll even keep this blog up. I think part of the discouragement of having an online journal is when it feels like no one even reads it. So why bother?

My thoughts are no more interesting than the next person's. Hell, I'd be surprised if theirs weren't a whole hell of a lot more interesting than mine. None the less..I'll keep attempting it to see if I get better....to ping the universe and see if there's someone else that speaks the language.