Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Confession # 9


I cry when I don't mean to cry.

The Unbalance:

You know what I'm talking about.  When your talking about something that really isn't emotional for you and then all of a sudden you start crying and you can't stop.  Yeah, that happened today. And it just so happened it was in front of someone I really didn't want to see me cry, which normally results in spilling your guts about why your crying.  As I proceeded to give a watered down version of what I'd been going through the past several months I started to cry. I didn't want to cry. In that moment I didn't feel emotional.  But for some reason my body back fired on me and I started to cry.  When I said I was on an anti-depressant, I was instantly reprimanded for the choice I made.  I said that this was my last option, because I'd been suffering, alone, for so long and I didn't want to be the person I'd been.  For the next 5 minutes I was lectured. I felt like I was 15 and my dad was telling me how I did something wrong..yaada yaada yaada. During this whole time I was crying, not really listening, trying to make myself stop crying.

Well, needless to say, I left fast. Got into my car and headed to the bank where I proceeded to blubber through the intercom to the bank teller, she was sweet and asked me if I was okay, I'm not sure if she understood me as I was sobbing and trying to say, "I'm just so emotional!"  Completely embarrassing. I drove up to the temple to just sit and cry.  As I was having a pity party for myself, my sweet Baby P starting babbling and laughing at herself. And then I had quite an uplifting moment: 

I had a vision of my life in the future as a mother and saw two more of my sweet little babies.  As I saw myself with my children I could sense I would still struggle probably forever.  But then I felt the most amazing happiness..JOY even!  I felt that Heavenly Father was still aware of me.  In my spiritual DNA He built me to be a where within the strands of hormonal unbalance, stress, anxiety, plain ol' being overwhelmed,, and everything in between in that DNA did he put failure. He wants me to succeed.  He's there to help me to succeed.

Finding the Balance:

Well, can you guess what I did?  no?....

1. I focused on the good.

I started vocally saying my blessings. Healthy baby, supportive husband, loving family, nice home..

I know by taking an anti-depressant that I'm doing nothing wrong.  I did my homework about it and talked in depth with my Doc. It was the right decision for me. During my encounter today I was told the only thing that an anti-depressants do is mask the problem and that it won't take it away.  Well, I realize this. I know very well that my problems aren't going to go away by just taking a pill everyday. I started this blog. I started exercising on a daily basis and I'm seeking counseling.  I understand that if I'm not willing to help change the things I can control that I won't progress.


Oh, you read that correctly.  I let it go!

As much as it P.O'd me that I was told all these things and it frustrated. It didn't change the fact that I made the right decision for myself.  So, I waved it good-bye.

3. I took a run.

Went on another 4 mile run with BFF Ames, which resulted in very uplifting and enlightening conversation. Thanks girl. :)

So although the middle of my day was a complete pain in the rear. I was able to overcome it. So this could be considered Victory Confession # 2? I think so.

I've decided when I'm judged for the choices I'VE made in MY life..those people really don't matter to me...and I move on with the same confidence I've always had.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Victory Confession #1

Victory Confession:

Exercise is where I found control.

How I found the balance:

Forgive my lack of writing this whole week. To be honest, I didn't have anything to write about.  It was the first week in almost 18 months (9 months being pregnant and these past 9 months after Baby P was born) that I felt like my old self and I was basking in that wonderful feeling. You wanna know what my secret is?.....I starting running. RUNNING!  
I've hated running my whole life.  I joined track in the 7th grade, mostly because everybody else was joining and after the first day of practice I wanted to quit.  I started coming up with a plan to fake an injury so I could get out of doing it, without actually quitting because, let's face it I'm kind of a quitter, but didn't want anybody to know that.  Well after a few more days of excruciating pain I told myself I was gonna fake twisting my ankle or my knee or something. Well, turns out, me being voted "Most Clumsy" my Senior year was right on track. During our stretches and pre-running exercises I tripped on my shoelace and my knee locked.  It was stuck for awhile and I had to go get an MRI, turns out, my cartilage was torn and I had to get surgery. I was ecstatic. Seriously, I was.  I was able to "be excused" from track and I got lots of attention because I had to be on crutches for awhile.

In High School I joined soccer.  Worst.Idea.Ever.  That's right up there with Track and Cross Country in the running department. What was I thinking? Well, I wasn't.  I joined mostly because the coach said, he didn't care if we were bad and that he'd teach us and it'd be lots of fun and my best friend was joining and I thought if she was there it wouldn't be too bad.  Well, ends up that my BFF was really good and usually played Varsity while I sat on JV and got yelled at by the coach because I sucked and wasn't fast enough.  I got into pretty good shape, but it never failed that everyday as I watched the clock reach 3:24pm I would dread getting my soccer gear on and going to practice.  I eventually quit half way through my Senior Year because I plain ole' didn't like it.  

My first semester of college I was going to take a fitness class and at the last second dropped it because I found out we had to run mile under a certain amount of time at the end of the semester, and I stressed so much about it I made myself sick and thought it would be best to quit (once again..surprise, surprise) Which resulting in me gaining 20 pounds and not fitting into any of my pants.

So you see, I've always hated running. And I'm still not a huge fan of it.  But I bought a jogger  three weeks ago and that kind of made the husband upset because Winter is almost here and I won't be able to use it until next Spring, he thought it was a waste of money.  So, to get back into his good graces I told him I would use it as much as possible now and I would start running a few times a week.  And I did.  I asked a friend to go along with me that also wanted to start running so every Monday, Wednesday and Friday we go to the park and run for at least 30 minutes.  

My dad let me in on a little secret to help you to start running without killing yourself.  Run for 1 minute, walk for 2 minutes. Do that for a week.  Then run a 1 1/2 minutes and walk 1 1/2 minutes. So, as the weeks progress increase your running time and decrease your walking time.  I love this because, I can go for quite a while without wanting to die, because I get a little bit of a break.  But I'm still keeping my heart-rate up and getting into shape.  I started this technique just this last week and my friend and I have been clocking 4 miles with every run. I am quite PROUD of myself!  And I have felt amazing.  I haven't been moody, or irritated. I haven't snapped at the husband and I've been joyful and grateful every second for the life I have.

Honest to goodness I thought I would be thee LAST person to run this regularly or to even promote running as a way to cope with the roller coaster of emotions us ladies go through. And when I'm running I don't absolutely love it.  But with each step that hits the ground I feel better and better.  And I know that I'm improving my life in more then just one way.  

A little bit of boasting time: I've been in a size 9/10 jean every since I can remember and I now fit comfortably in a size 6. I am also 16 pounds UNDER my pre-pregnancy weight.

Now, today is the Sabbath and we try our very best to keep it Holy.  We don't go shopping, or buy things, or go out to eat or get too rowdy with our friends because it's the Lord's day.  And today I didn't exercise and today has been a bad day emotionally.  My mother helped me to come to the conclusion that maybe some light exercise wouldn't be so disrespectful on Sunday because it really helps me to release the stress, anxiety, and negative emotions that bottle up inside me.  So I have concluded that Sunday morning I will do pilates.  If this is something that improves my mood, which in turn keeps the Spirit in our home (which affects my family, and those closest to me) I think it's only a good thing. 

Out of this whole mess of depression and mood swings and lashing out at my poor husband, which I feel completely out of control, I have found some control with exercising, and I'm going to take whatever I can get.