God said to march

For months I have despaired. Years, maybe. My heart and my mind have almost ceased to work, absolutely pummeled by depression and suffering. I've struggled to to escape fear's grip on me, but to no avail. The depression spawned fear, and fear spawned hopelessness, which in turn spawned a sort of paralysis. The physical illnesses and financial struggles have not helped.

For quite a while now, scary thoughts have taken hold of me. When I drive, I pass telephone poles and trees and I think to myself, "I could do it. I've just got to take my seat belt off and I can do it, and then things wouldn't be so hard." Fortunately, I recognize these thoughts for what they are: twisted, sick, effects of depression and anxiety. And luckily, after talking with my doctor, we agreed that these thoughts don't make me suicidal. It's not "I want to kill myself," it's "I wish I wanted to kill myself." It's wanting an end of suffering, but not in that way. This is all hard to admit, especially because I grew up in a really bad situation, and I feel like I've become weak; back then I was able to tell myself things would get better, but now I feel like "things will get better" is just wishful thinking. But maybe I haven't gotten weaker - maybe the reason 15 year old Charlotte could feel hopeful was the fact that there was an endpoint: graduating and leaving for college. But me, now.. I have no such comfort. 

But what I actually want to focus on is the possibility of change. 

A couple of days ago I read Rome Sweet Home, a story of conversion to the Catholic Church by Scott and Kimberly Hahn. As I was reading, I was struck by how earnestly they both prayed - for guidance, for help, to give thanks. Now obviously I've prayed before. But, if I'm being honest with myself, I have never quite poured my heart out to our Lord. I've said plenty of Our Fathers, but I've never been very personal in prayer... and I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I never gave God my full trust. I think this lack of trust likely stems from two decades of being let down (to put it very, very nicely) by parents, parent figures, and most adults I tried to trust as a child and again as a teen. Mind you, while this makes my lack of faith in God understandable, it doesn't make it justifiable. Going forward, this is going to be one of the three main tasks I've set for myself to get better. The other two: becoming physically healthy and in shape and; becoming mentally healthy and seeking more help. These three tasks were decided two days ago... after I prayed - really prayed - for guidance. 

I had finished reading the Hahn's conversion story, and I wondered why I had never prayed like them.. and I knew I wanted to. Both Dr. and Mrs. Hahn had described moments of "sensing" God's responses to their prayers. I know this isn't the proper or good way to react, but I was downright jealous. 

Several hours later (or maybe the next day), I found myself sitting on my bedroom floor, balling my eyes out. I was in the middle of sorting every single item I own and attempting to organize them in the little amount of available storage space. I was doing this because the clutter was overwhelming me, so much so that I couldn't write, couldn't read, couldn't paint. And I desperately needed to do those things; I've started a small (very small) business just so I can earn ten bucks here, ten bucks there. And I know creating things to sell would alleviate some of my depression symptoms. 

So there I was, unable to make anything to sell. All I could think was, "I could be making money. Not a lot, but when there's no food, $20 is a big deal." I felt pathetic. I was so angry at myself for letting a messy room stop me from doing something that could really help me. 

And if you've ever been depressed, you know that one bad thought leads to another, and soon you're unable to move, unable to do anything.

I just started crying. Crying and crying... and thinking about Rome Sweet Home, and feeling as though now was the moment, now I needed to trust (or tell myself I trust - fake it til you make it) and I needed to humble myself and earnestly pray. I said a lot of things in those moments, one of them along the lines of, "When the Hahns prayed for guidance, they sensed your response. Please, please let me sense your answer to just this one prayer. Just this one - I'm at my breaking point and don't know what to do."

And at first I felt nothing. My sobs had subsided, but that was it. I started wondering if I had done something wrong. Maybe I put too much emphasis on the Hahns? Maybe pleading for an outright answer was akin to trying to command God, which no man can do. And then I felt an all too familiar stabbing pain from my liver and lamented: I can't keep doing this. Hunched over and reaching for my bottle of ibuprofen, I had to pause and gather myself, because as suddenly as I felt that stab, I felt the word "march." Whoa. 

"Wait, wait."

"Really?!" 

"Wait! ...was that actually you?"

It wasn't as though I heard another voice other than my own. Morgan Freeman didn't narrate. Angels didn't appear, the heavens did not open, the earth did not shake. Really, I didn't hear the word "march" but I felt it. I felt it everywhere and I knew (and know) that it did not come from me.

Needless to say, I felt like a kid at Christmas. I was elated. I was giddy, overcome with joy. God had, however vaguely, answered.

For the last two days I have pondered this. I have spent nearly every waking moment wondering what was meant by this command to march. Part of me wished for more specific instructions. At the end of the day, though, I think he meant to say that I am not weak (how can I be, when I am baptized and he dwells in me and I in him?), and that I need to push forward. March into war, do battle with depression. March, continue to march, even when everything around me is broken, even when I am broken, like soldiers must do even when things seem bleak. March with my head held high, don't cower out of fear that others will think me fat, sickly, unattractive. March like Joan of Arc. March like the archangel Michael. March like Dorothy Day. 

I believe I was told to march in faith. Set goals, have dreams, and lean into Jesus to achieve them. Most importantly, continue marching forward, even when cloaked in misery. In the end, maybe the suffering will stop, maybe it won't. Maybe I'm living out my time in Purgatory while still here. Perhaps I'll reach old age and still be battling these demons. But if that's the case, I will remember the oft-evoked truth: joy cometh in the morning. So if I don't escape suffering in this life, I will find joy the moment I arrive in the next, as long as I'm steadfast in my convictions, marching toward the ultimate goal of joy: everlasting life with Jesus. 

Or maybe God meant something important will happen next March. Who knows? 

Charlotte  

the new year

I've achieved the silliest/dumbest pic yet!

I've come to love these kinds of posts where I get to reflect a bit on what I've achieved in the last few months (and what I could have done differently) and make goals for the future. I'm not sure why I like these posts so much now... maybe it's part of the "older and wiser" thing? Entering adulthood with a bit more grace than years past? Perhaps, perhaps. Either way, I sort of relish these marked dates where we all get the opportunity to do a little reflecting and a little planning. 

Even though I'm, you know, three days late. Ahem. 

So, 2016. This year was rough to say the least. I think most of us agree on that, but for me it was personally difficult, too. And yet I almost feel good about it? As though I've been through enough hell to have actually learned things? So that's good. For me 2016 was defined by sickness. I have to laugh at my own naivety in last year's post, when I thought all was well since I had been "feeling a little bit better." As they say down here, "Bless your heart," last year's Charlotte!

The first half of the year was brutal. I was in the hospital all the time. I had surgeries and procedures. Finally we found out that my liver is in fact damaged, but... they found no cause. Luckily the damage isn't severe and in these last few months the pain has decreased somewhat (knock on wood!!!) and my labs have been coming back mostly normal, so let me tentatively say that the liver issues will be at least somewhat less difficult to deal with from here on out. It seems as though some of that upper quadrant pain is something I'm just going to have to live with since we can't find a cause, but as long as I'm not having severe flare-ups, I can mostly manage. This year has made me tougher. I had a liver biopsy and felt the whole thing since I don't numb easily, so I kinda feel like a real bad ass.

As the liver problem lessened, my endometriosis made an appearance. It didn't want to feel left out, I suppose. After all, the upper abdomen can't have all the attention. The low dose birth control I was on stopped doing its job, pain returning full-force. 

You may have noticed I stopped posting entirely some time around late August. I'll tell the story of why now, and try to keep it short. (Brevity is not my forte, though. ;)

When I felt the endo coming back I talked to my primary right away. Endometriosis and I go back far enough that I knew I wouldn't want to put off treatment. He sent me to an obgyn here and off I went. Well... shit hit the fan. For whatever reason (capitalism and the patriarchy, probably), endometriosis is relatively under-researched. Most doctors don't seem to know a ton about it, and in all honesty, the current options for treating it aren't terrific. Turns out the doctor I saw must be one of the doctors who isn't extremely familiar with endo. She told me I'd need an open surgery and a bowel resection and, and, and... you get it, but suggested that in order to avoid that surgery I ought to go on depo provera. 

Ya'll. The horror. The horror!

I received the first shot of depo and about ten days later I started feeling my depression coming back. It felt heavier than it has in months. I was pretty devastated. I knew that on top of everything else, I really couldn't handle deep depression as well. I worried that things would quickly spiral out of control (well, out of what little control there already was, anyway...). School was starting at this exact time, too, so I made the decision to focus on treating my endometriosis, treating my depression, and getting myself to school... and nothing else. This blog, and many of my fun or blog-related "goals" immediately took a backseat. I found a new obgyn. For the depression, I asked my primary to talk about medicine (I'd been on medicine for depression before, but at this point I had been off of all medicine and doing well for over a year). I also committed to reading certain kinds of books, to walking and driving through nature as much as possible, and to going to church. All things that I knew from experience would work to battle depression. I can't say the depression went away - in fact I am still fighting it. But because I knew what I was dealing with and I've been there before, I think I was able to stop it from getting to a point where I can't function at all. Thank God, truly. As for school, I got myself there whenever I wasn't too physically ill and I passed my classes. Those three things: school, endo, depression. That's what I've focused on for the last few months. It was all I had the energy to do, and it's why I haven't been writing here as much. Now that I've just had surgery and therefore need to take the semester off (no point wasting my money on class if I need to miss a month to recuperate), my plan is to get back into the habit of writing. I'm very much looking forward to it. 

~me when I think about blogging again~

So that was that. 

Another effect of that depo was that it (sorry for possible forthcoming tmi) thinned my uterine lining way too much, causing me to bleed for weeks at a time. You know what's not fun? Bleeding out of your vagina for 57 days straight. But yes, anyway. I saw several surgeons, all great but not willing/able to perform my surgery because it was too high risk. I was finally sent to a gynecologic oncologist and then to a reproductive endocrinologist, we came up with a plan, and finally I got some relief first in the form of estrogen and then just last week via major surgery. I'm sore as anything now, but I'm honestly just ecstatic about the thought of a future with no/less pain. 

(The surgery shed light on just how severe the endo was - it was everywhere and I needed stitches in my intestines and rectum and it was binding together my vagina and uterus and aren't ya glad you're reading all these details?! But hey, these kinds of posts are mostly for myself, so I'm not holding back. And despite the severity, there was something sort of miraculous about my case. I'm going to write a post on that really soon.)

              

So that was most of 2016. There were some really great things about the year, too, though. Like I said, I followed through with my plans and started school again! I did really, really well in my math classes and I didn't do horribly in physics, either. (That one was a bit harder since I've never taken physics and because I missed quite a few days for medical stuff - and yet, I still got a B-!) I also finally found a church (one of the most beautiful churches I've ever seen, at that!) and went as often as I could. I can't describe how good it has been for me. In general I've just experienced and done things last year that, for reasons I still don't get, have made me just feel like a better me. So that's nice, right?

Now, as for those goals, let's see. They were: 

1. Make a two year plan; 

2. Get a job; 

3. Be less distracted; 

4. Watch more documentaries; 

5. Make a pilgrimage;

6. Exercise every single day; 

7. Go on a legit date; 

8. Finish the draft posts for the blog and,

9. Read.

How'd I make out? Well, I made a loose two year plan, but it was a bit thrown because of medical stuff. I'm counting that as a success, though, because I've got a general idea of things I'd like to do and I've been doing them! "Get a job!" oh, Char. My exact words in that post were, "The health stuff is improving. I need a job." If only you knew. I did work odd jobs, but I was so sick this year. I'm bummed about the lack of work, but I really can't even be mad at myself for it given everything I was dealing with. Prayers that this changes in 2017! I was definitely less distracted, and I'm actually a little proud of myself for how mindful I've become. I watched some documentaries, but I fell short of my goal. I think in 2017 I won't make it a resolution so much as just something I stay conscious of and make sure to do more often. And a pilgrimage! Technically I did make a pilgrimage! During the Holy Year of Mercy, Holy Doors were set up and if you were able to pass through one, it was a pilgrimage. Of course, when I made that goal, I intended it to be a pilgrimage that involved traveling more than an hour away, haha. But given all that happened, it worked out well for me. I am going to include making a pilgrimage as a resolution again this year. I most certainly did not exercise every day. However, I exercised as often as I could and I am in better shape now than I was this time last year. I lost a ton of weight... but then I put quite a few of those pounds back on after getting that shot of depo provera, dammit! Curse that shot!!! I did not go on a "legit" date... but I finally got my act together and joined a dating site and it hasn't been horrible. :) I finished quite a few drafts and I read 56 books, check and check. (Though my goal was 60 books... grrr.) 

Altogether I suppose it was a mixed bag, but I'm happy. Like I said, mid-year I switched gears and focused all of my energy on keeping my depression from getting too severe and treating my other health conditions, so I'm not going to be angry at myself for falling short on some of my less important goals. Priorities, people!  

    

Other fun/random things that I noticed about myself in 2016? Well, I've embraced some of these southern things...... you guys, I am now the owner of a pair of cowboy boots. Or cowgirl boots, I suppose. Le sigh. I also use the word "reckon," though I think that's also due to how often I read/watch Harry Potter. I finally learned to just love and embrace the color of my hair. Still working on the texture, though. I reconnected with my older brother and it's been great, but that can take up an entire post. 2016 was just a record year for me. 

So this year! This year. I'm unusually optimistic about 2017. I have a feeling it is going to be a lot of hard work, but after this year I feel like I can handle things, yo. If I can basically get stabbed in the liver and not cry (though I did whisper a somewhat loud "fuuuck" through clenched teeth), then I can overcome all of my crap and make good things happen, yes?

I've got a few goals in mind for the year, some of them major and some a bit random. 

1. I'm moving soon (as soon as the landlords stop procrastinating on fixing the bathroom). One of my goals for 2017 is to make my place somewhere I'm happy and comfortable, somewhere that's warm and welcoming to any visiting friends, too. 

2. Along those same lines of renewed independence... cook more. I've barely cooked at all the last year because I eat what's put in front of me. I'm grateful, of course, but I'm looking forward to planning my own meals and cooking from scratch and learning new recipes.

3. Be less fearful. Ah, this goes for a lot of things. Living on my own, worrying about health issues returning, etc. I don't think I'll ever be someone who can just not feel fear, but one of my goals is to overcome it and do things anyway.

4. Read 60 books. This year I only finished 56, falling four short of my goal. But I think I would have achieved the 60 had it not been for so many hospitalizations and stuff. I'll have more specific reading goals later, as per usual. 

5. This year I've really got to drink less soda. I've been great about drinking more water, but I drink a ton of Coke. My soda habits got about 500x worse when the depression hit, but I haven't tried hard enough to correct them. I'm thinking I'll go back to my old strategy of only drinking it on Sundays. 

6. Exercise often. I mean often. And continue losing weight! I got down to under 200lbs for the first time in years in 2016! The depo may have put some of that back on, but I fully intend on taking it back off and getting down to my ideal weight, anywhere between 160-180.

7. Learn to knit/crochet/sew. Pick one and learn it.

8. Learn to do my hair and makeup. I'm never going to be a makeup superstar because I just prefer not wearing a ton of it, but I would like to know the basics better. And my hair!! The only thing I know how to do with my hair at this point it putting some mousse in it and calling it a day. Surely I can learn a few more tricks. I always make goals that should make me feel better about my character, nothing wrong with making one that'll make me feel good about my looks, too. 

9. Pick six subjects and learn about them. Just for fun. My idea is to use two months per subject/topic to read about them, watch documentaries, take stuff out from the library, etc. So far my ideas are blue whales, the tundra, and progressive era activists. Ideas and suggestions welcome!

10. Get closer to God. Pray the rosary more, go to confession, go to daily mass more often, get to know the saints, go to adoration more often, read the Bible. You know, the good stuff. This is the most important of them all.

11. That pilgrimage!

12. Make friends in North Carolina, dang it!!!!!

I also told my friends I was going to be like Charlotte from Sex and the City, declaring that this is the year I get engaged. But we shall see haha. Might be a tad far-fetched. 

There are some broader plans and ideas I've got that don't quite qualify as "goals," like writing more. I'd like to write intentionally more often, too. Of course I use this blog for fun things like sorting characters into Hogwarts houses and coming up with nerdy baby names, but I'd also like to use this space to write more important stuff from here on out. There are things I really think I need to get out there (just for myself, not for the world to see or anything like that) and this is a built-in place to do that. I remember back in the day when I was actually pretty good at writing, and I feel as though I've lost that skill. I'd like to work on getting it back. This is a good place to start. Other plans may or may not include a dog companion and backyard chickens, but more on that later......

And finally, for this year's word and saint! 

2017's word: Heal

My body, yes. Big time. But also mind and soul. 

2017's saint: St. Gianna Beretta Molla

I plan on writing much more about this choice, as well as my saint friends of years past, like 2016's St. Joan of Arc and 2015's St. Anne. 

source

Until then, 

Happy New Year! 

xo Charlotte

Going Back to School

Whew. Just a little over a year ago I wrote about my plan to go back to school. Well, it's taken me longer than I'd have liked, but last week I enrolled at a community college in a nearby city and in the upcoming weeks I get to meet with an advisor to register for classes. I'll be taking physics and a math course (not sure which one yet - don't really fancy jumping right into calculus after 6+ years of not learning math, so might take pre-calc algebra first).

On the one hand, I'm really excited. On the other hand................. slightly terrified. I'm worried about what happens if I go back and end up really sucking at all of this. Also, I am not very healthy. In fact, I have to stop lying to myself. I keep saying that I'll get better soon, but in reality, my body seems to be getting worse. My liver enzymes are nice and high, my abdominal pain has spread so that it's now on both sides and in my chest and back (it used to mostly stay confined to the right upper quadrant). I don't know if it's related, but two months ago my legs were fine and now they're terribly sore to the point where I have trouble lifting them at times. When it started, it was mainly happening at night (felt as though I had done insane work outs, even though I hadn't) and now it happens during the day, too. My nausea medicine knocks me out, so I sometimes end up wasting an entire day sleeping. So that's all problematic. But I'm trying to remain optimistic. Late next week I'm having two procedures done, and the doctors are likely going to take biopsies. I'm really, really hoping they figure out what is wrong. 

And if they don't (knock on wood, because I don't want to just be stuck with mystery symptoms and bad blood work forever), then I'm still anticipating going to school. I'm only taking two classes, so I should be able to manage that schedule even if I'm still sick. I considered just putting it off another semester, but decided against that. It has been a long time since I've felt like a normal human being and I really need to do things again. I don't want to put it off indefinitely. Ain't no way to liiiive. 

I'm also nervous about some practical obstacles. My computer is falling apart, literally. It's held together with electrical tape at the moment, and I can see its innards. Wires and metal galore. But I can get by without a laptop for a while, hopefully. The bigger concern is my car, which is becoming less and less safe to drive unless I get it fixed. (I'm not just procrastinating on getting it fixed - it's likely to cost over $1000 and nobody has that type of money.) I get mad every time I think about it, because it turns out the dealership sold it to me like this. Nice of them!! The school is about 40 minutes away, so a car isn't optional. I'm going to try to work things out over the next couple of months. 

Despite all that, I'm still just pumped. It's been such a long time since I've done anything with any sort of purpose. It's exciting to actually work toward one of my bigger goals (and hopefully get on the road to being independent again - thankful that I've been able to live rent free, but... I also miss not living with family). And maybe one day I'll end up working to solve problems such as these. ;)

__
Charlotte

Bullet Journal

My friend Dana introduced me to this neat idea of a bullet journal. The best description I can quickly come up with is that it's like a planner on steroids (which is exactly what I told Liz, who thinks she'd benefit from a bullet journal too). I have, and love, a regular planner, but it's mostly just appointments. I don't put all the little things in there, like moisturizing or making the bed or exercising. I don't track my books in my planner. I don't write down how much money I spend in my planner. The bullet journal though? It is promising. I thrive from checklists (I think it's a mix of my personality and the fact that I'm depressed - checking things off is the best), and the bullet journal is allllll checklists, baby. So I made one. I invested (lol $7, holla big moneyyy) in a journal yesterday. I picked one with a train because I love trains and it reminds me of The Hogwarts Express. And today I got it started.  

See what I mean? It's got everything. I adore checking little things off, even if it's something like brushing teeth or showering (1. the more you check, the more momentum you get, the more productive you become and 2. sometimes depression means you straight up don't care about self-health and self-care, so even things like "put on makeup" and "lather your body with soap" are good to write down). Sometimes I can get to feeling a bit inadequate - I start thinking about "all those people" who don't need check lists or planners or journals to function. But I gotta ditch that mentality. These are things that work for me.  

My bullet journal isn't very pretty. I opted to just start it now even though all I've got is a pen and a few highlighters. I considered waiting until Sunday, after this snowstorm clears up, so I could go get colored pencils. But... I figure I can make it pretty later. I've got a lot of goals for 2016, not to mention a whole host of life and lifestyle changes I want to make, and I'm betting this journal can help me out. 

Here's to achieving goals and forming good habits! 

__ 

Charlotte 

"New year, new me" LOL

I don't dislike the "new year, new me" motto - hell, I like anything that entails people trying to grow or change. But in my experience I'm not going for a new me so much as a "less screwed up, maybe more wise and more mature" me. I'm down for that. 

Let's talk about firsts. I wrote one of these posts for the first time last year. It was the first time I seriously thought about goals. The first time I picked a word to call to mind throughout the year (it was "persevere"). The first time I picked a Saint of the Year (Saint Anne). This year for the first time I actually researched methods to change habits and then stuck to them. It's the first time, ever, that the number of goals I've achieved is greater than the number of goals I did not achieve. That feels pretty good, even at a time when my life doesn't necessarily feel pretty good. With all that in mind, I've decided to do another review/goals post to start the new year.

I'll do a quick rant about 2015, but if you want to skip ahead to the 2016 goals, I feel you. You'llll want to scroll down to the Harry Potter gif, you will.*

I don't feel like 2015 was monumental. I did a lot of small things to better myself, but nothing crazy big happened. No super terrific job (le sigh), no super terrific relocation (le sigh), no super terrific man (le sigh). I had two surgeries; one very minor, another borderline-major. The earlier part of 2015 was probably the hardest physically, with endometriosis leaving me barfing and stuck in bed often. I try to block that part out. I had a nice stint in the hospital for a few days after having some problems with my liver and bile duct, and they're still not sure what caused that (which keeps me on my toes - I get the pain sometimes, but not ever as severe or long-lasting as it was then, so I'm glad for that but I DO get nervous). Because:

COULD BE YOU AT ANY MOMENT, CHAR. Not really. Probably not really.

And then I ended the year with a literal bang when I got into a car accident, and I spent the last few weeks of 2015 in doctors' offices and physical therapy. And it's looking like I get to spend the first few weeks of 2016 with lawyers and courts..... everyone's favorite. Le effing sigh.

New Years morning was spent in the hospital when I hit a nerve in my mouth and I know going to the ER for a tooth-related problem sounds ridiculous to a lot of people, but when you haven't had dental insurance and you have no money... let's just say it sucks. So at 7:30am on Jan. 1st I started the year with a needle in the jaw. Excuse my language but that was fucking rough. 

So yes, the medical aspect of 2015 was hard. That's kind of been my life for two-three years now, so it's slightly less depressing (though the way it affects job searching is awful) and I'm used to it, which is an improvement. I was joking with Liz earlier because at this point I can go in for a blood draw and tell them exactly which spot and vein to hit for a successful attempt. Two years ago I'd go in for a blood draw and hold back tears. So at least I'm... tougher? I suppose? 

I hesitate to say this because I don't want to jinx things, but... it feels like things might be looking up? When my endometriosis flares up, it usually doesn't last for days at a time. (Knock on wood, knock on wood, knock on wood.) The abdominal pain tends to be tolerable. My blood pressure has been up since getting into that accident (pain related, most likely), but that can be fixed, fingers crossed. I still have more health issues than I'd like, but they seem to be getting at least a bit under control, or at least more tolerable. (Birth control is really the only thing keeping endo at bay right now, and that's just a bandaid solution. Still working on longer term solutions, like excision surgery. But it can't be the main thing I focus on right now.)

The year has been mentally and emotionally difficult. I live with family right now, and while I'm lucky it's not my most toxic family members, it can still get really tense. Not to mention how hard it is to live approx. 15 hours from my friends in Albany who feel like family and have really been my support system. I don't have friends here and I haven't made an effort to make friends here - partially stubbornness (I'm not going to be here forever, why make friends!), partially depression. Stephanie visited once, but other than that I haven't really seen anyone my age. Not having a real job hasn't helped the mental situation. On top of that, someone who was an important person in my life kind of just walked out of it without any sort of explanation, which is, I think, supremely fucked up. It's made me go back to old ways of thinking that are not really good (doubting my friends, holding back on talking to even my close friends about difficult things, etc). I try to remind myself to not think like that. Can't let one b ruin all of my other relationships. Nope.

There have been some great things this year, though. Liz and I started Filthy Casket Book Reviews. I love blogging over there so much, and it's a great motivator for reading and writing. Not to mention I've signed up for Blogging for Books, so I receive complimentary books and review them in return. It is a pretty good deal. We get a nice traffic flow over at FC, and between that and THL, more people than ever are reading my posts. (It's a little intimidating because I know my writing is sometimes all willy nilly. But the increased readership is making me want to become a better writer and to organize my thoughts in more... coherent ways. Time will tell.)

Speaking of blog highlights this year, 2015 has brought more blog views than any other year I've been blogging. This saints' names post brought in hundreds of viewers in one day, and since then I've had a steady flow of visits. Before that my Baltimore riots post brought in a lot of readers as well. It's great to be able to write about such a variety of topics and still find a lot of people who dig it.

There were also some awesome things that happened this year that aren't related to blogging at all. I finally went to Disney World. Was that ever fun. I think that was probably 2015's highlight. I also saw my friend Stephanie for the first time in a couple of years, which is always wonderful. I lost a lot of weight. My friend Dana and I are together again. (That sentence will re-fuel old rumors of us being romantic partners [Can two people just not be very close??? I don't understand.] so let me just clarify that I meant we're good friends again after quite a bit of time apart. We reunited before 2015, but it feels like it used to now.) And I think I became a little more confident and it's showing - I gave up wearing nothing but jeans and large hoodies in favor of wearing clothes that fit properly and look nice, I do my hair - or at least try, and I'm over all just better in some ways. It's pretty fabulous. 2015 was not my best year by a long shot, but I'd be an ass to pretend nothing good happened.    

Let's talk about last year's goals. 

Last year I wanted to do a few things. Some of the specific goals were to write more, read more, lose weight, and get a job.

I've definitely been writing more. I haven't sent in a ton of freelance articles like I thought I might have, but I wrote more blog posts, did more book reviews that get posted on numerous sites, and I worked on my book (still definitely a work in progress!). I count this as a success.

And reading more! Oh yeah, this was definitely achieved. I read more books in 2015 than ever before. I feel pretty pleased about that. (Here's a list of my top five reads of 2015, along with Liz's.) Success!

The weight loss thing is more complicated because my goal was to get down to my ideal weight, and I'm not there yet. But I lost an absolute ton of weight. I'm starting to physically feel better, which is fantastic. I'm noticing the positive changes in how I feel every day. Right now I'm the lowest weight I've been in over five years! So even though I haven't yet reached my ideal range (165-180), I think I'm counting this as another success.

Ugh, the job situation. I wanted to get a real job and that didn't happen. It's been pretty difficult with back to back health problems. I did a few little gigs, like planting gardens, watering flowers in greenhouses, mowing lawns, picking up dog poop - really glamorous stuff! Like I said, my health stuff feels like it's getting more manageable, so a job will hopefully be more doable. I'm dying to work again. (Not to mention - bills. And drowning. Drowning in bills.)

Another thing I worked on, which I alluded to earlier in this novella of a post, was trying to be more mindful. I wanted to change some of my evil habits, namely procrastination. After thinking about it a while, I realized that it was important for me to be able to recognize if I am being lazy, or if my depression is hitting me hard. There's a big difference, and knowing which thing I'm experiencing helps me choose which way to go about acting. It's easy for me, if I recognize I'm just being lazy, to say, "You don't actually like being lazy, Charlotte. It's not a fun Sunday lounge day - this is something you need to do and you basically hate laziness and know it's a big trait in your family and you don't want to get ya ass sucked into all of THAT so get up and do this thing you're avoiding." And then I get up and do it. If I'm having a rough day and it's depression, I acknowledge it. I can still motivate myself to stop procrastinating (usually) but it's a more complicated process when the root is depression or anxiety. So working on that has been a big goal for me, and I'm happy to say I've gotten pretty good at knowing myself and recognizing what I'm dealing with and taking it from there. It's made a world of difference and I'm better for it. I'd like to continue that in 2016, and hopefully get to the point where not procrastinating just comes naturally to me, instead of it being an effort. We'll see.

Over all, I'm happy with how I've done on my 2015 goals. I should probably throw myself a party or something.

And for 2016....

I feel like I have to make 2016 my year or else I'll die of stagnation. I've set up a few goals for the year, some big and some small.

1. Make a two year plan. I've been given various bits of advice from people I have a lot of respect for, so I'm combining their advice. Some suggested making five year plans. Take things five years at a time. Others suggested a less planned out, more laid back view on life, and alluded to "three acts." Others have told me to take things a few months at a time. After a little bit of thought, I think a two year plan sounds like the best idea for me at this time. I'm going to sit down and look at all my options (lol "all") and put more effort than usual into really figuring out what I can do to get my life on track. This is something I'd like to finish by the end of January.

2. Get a job. Like I said, the health stuff is improving. I need a job.

3. Be less distracted. I don't know when I became like this, but I've noticed that I'm always doing a million things at once. If I have a movie on, I often also have a football game on, but on mute. Or I'll have a Netflix show up, playing during commercials during one of my tv shows. I do the same thing with reading, with writing, with essentially all the little hobbies I have. I don't fully experience any of them because I'm trying to do all of them. It needs to change. I want to just sit down and watch a football game without looking at my computer every two seconds. I want to put a movie on and not pause it a million times to chat on Facebook. Getting rid of my smartphone helped with this, but I have a long way to go.

4. Watch more documentaries. I love documentaries, yet I don't think I watched a single one in 2015. For shame! With Netflix at my fingers, there's really no excuse for not watching.

5. Make a pilgrimage. Money is tight nonexistent, so I won't be walking the camino any time soon. (But some point in my lifetime, God willing!!) I've always thought of pilgrimages as grand things in foreign lands, but there are plenty of places to visit right here in the US. I'd like to really try and visit such a place in 2016.

6. Exercise every single day. I'm not going to run a mile every day, but I want to do something every day. The only exceptions I'll give myself is hospitalization, violent illness, or severe endometriosis (but please let there be no reason to use those excuses!!!).

7. Go on a legit date. I've "hung out" with a guy this year, but never quite on a real date. It always felt just like hanging out with a friend. But with all the freaking engagement announcements over the last two weeks... let's just say I might die if I see one more. (Yeah, yeah, I'm happy for them. Just also miserable at my own romantic life.. or lack thereof.) I want to go on a legit date. I'm really sick of ambiguous dinners and lunches and outings. That all said, I need to get my ass out more often. No one can ask me out if I make it like I don't exist.

8. Finish the draft posts for the blog. Also, the series I've started but not finished. There are a bunch of unfinished posts in my draft folder. Some of them I'll delete if I don't feel the need or desire to write them anymore, but others are things I'd really like to finish. I also want to finish some of the series I've started.

9. Read. Dana and I made a pact to read 60 books each this year. I will make it happen! I have a few book-related goals, though. I've listed them here.

Other than that, I'd like to continue with my long term goals I've been working on for a while, like the good reading habits, good weight loss habits, etc. Blogging helps keep me accountable, so here's hoping!

And if YOU, reader, are also making goals, remember: YOU CAN DO EEEET.

And the fun stuff!

2016 Word of the Year: Challenge 
Like, good challenge. Challenge myself, don't be scared, hop on out of that comfort zone. You know.

2016 Saint of the Year: Saint Joan of Arc 
Because if I'm going to challenge myself, I should have a friend who is brave.

And I think that's it for this post!** 2016, cheers.
__
Charlotte

*Of course there's a Harry Potter gif!
**That technically is it for this post, but in case you'd like to take a stroll down memory lane (and because I included this in last year's post), here are my favorite posts from 2015:

1. Some of my Favorite Books

2. The Right to Life and Family

3. Ten Things to do on a Rainy Day

4. Disney Trip

5. Struggles of Car Ownership

6. Home Library Love

7. So You Want to Work at NASA

8. Baltimore Riots: White Contradictions

9. If You're Kind of a Nerd but Don't Want Your Kids to Have Crazy Names

10. On Being Fat

On Being Fat

I was talking to my bud Liz a few days ago about how I find certain things annoying. Specifically, I roll my eyes at some of the fat-positive articles out there that will do anything possible to avoid using the word "fat." I saw one this morning that said something like, "here are pictures of individuals with double chins." 

That is true. I am an individual with a double chin. But wow, what a cumbersome title. I get that some people (and I guess let's specifically talk about women because 1. I can talk about that from experience and 2. most articles I see are aimed at women, since most people don't care if men are fat or not) don't like being called "fat" and/or don't like it used as an adjective. Fine. (Although, that might risk maintaining "fat" as a dirty word.) Then title your article "Pictures of all kinds of people!" or "You can have a double chin and still look hot as hell!" 

Rantity rant rant but this got me thinking... I have no clue how to talk about being fat. I know how I feel about it, but talking about it can be a bit like walking on eggshells. Some skinny people really are not fond of hearing about it. Some of them equate fat positivity with skinny shaming, some think that being fat is an unhealthy and therefore irresponsible way of living. Some fat people don't like talking about it for other reasons; Some of us agree with the healthy lifestyle thing, some of us don't. Some of us are uncomfortable talking about weight, some of us aren't. And so on. So I'm just gonna talk about a few of the complexities and dilemmas that go on in *my* head. Maybe you can relate, maybe not. 

  

I think it takes about two decades, but at some point we mature enough to realize that every person is beautiful. The problem is that an unbelievable amount of people will tell fat people, and fat women especially, that they shouldn't feel good about themselves or confident or beautiful until they're a "healthy" weight. 

Oh man, that pisses me off like nothing else. 

For starters, it's just not true. Every person is born with beauty that can't be measured on a BMI chart. 

On top of that, I've never met a single person who is motivated by self-hate. I got fat when I got depressed. Not necessarily because I was feeling badly about myself - it's just that my depression doesn't kid around with that "loss of interest" thing. I stopped doing anything. I went from playing sports, enjoying hiking and walks, plus being socially active to doing nothing. Looking back, it makes me really sad. I feel like in some ways I missed out on literal years of my life. But yes. I got fat and that's when I started to feel bad about the way I looked. (To clarify, I thought I was fat before this time. I was around 160-180 when active, and I thought I was a whale. Now I look at pictures and I think I was a good size. But before the depression and the 100 extra pounds, thinking I was fat didn't change how I acted. I didn't hesitate to play a game of basketball or to put on nice clothes.) I'm completely certain that when I started to think I was completely hideous, it became almost impossible for me to try to lose weight. 

Feeling like you are beautiful (or at least that there is something attractive about you, more on that in a sec) makes a world of difference. It's easier to motivate yourself when you have a little confidence. In my case, I lost exactly zero pounds when I was at my worst. I used to walk around in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, which is fine if you want to be walking around in jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. It's problematic if you let that become your uniform for no reason other than you think it hides your fat. Hell, I used to put basically no effort into getting dressed simply because I thought it was useless, that it was flat out impossible for me to look nice at that weight. I didn't even give thought to my face or hair. I used to just throw that shit up in a bun and go. Skin care? Lotion? Nope. Wasn't worth it, there wasn't a point - I was fat and therefore could not look nice. I wasn't going to waste time trying.

You can see where I'm going with this. People should feel confident regardless of how they look. Heavy people should feel confident whether or not they're trying to lose weight - and it's damn near impossible to start losing weight if you're filled with self-loathing.

People who tell fat women they shouldn't feel beautiful or confident until they're a "healthy" weight are misguided at best and monsters at worst. Don't be one of those people.

"Feeling beautiful" is easier said than done, though. I am not some shiny, shimmering well of confidence and kind of pathetically?, I usually have to fake confidence to have any semblance of real confidence. When I finally realized that confidence was probably necessary for, you know, everything, I started to look for little things about myself that I thought were attractive. I know myself and I know that becoming confident will probably take literal decades, but I also know I can trick myself into anything, include a better state of mind. Finding and focusing on something attractive meant I could slowly lean myself into confidence and then into lifestyle changes.

But I was (and still often am) a cesspool of self-doubt. Originally, I couldn't find anything good to focus on. I know. But luckily I have friends who don't fuck around and they helped in that department. Ha, this cracks me up: one of my friends even sends me this song from time to time, usually with a smiley face.

I guess she wants to remind me that just because *society* doesn't put big asses on a pedestal doesn't mean we shouldn't.

Which is another point: I've had to just change how I look at certain things. I used to want to look sleek and elegant and basically like Kate Middleton. In reality I'm a frizzified ginger with a body that is... not like Kate Middleton's. Instead of holding a lifelong funeral for my dream look, I've had to instead embrace having uncontrollable, huge red hair and an ass that doesn't quit, as it were.

It's been freeing. I let my hair do its thing (usually). I get a lot of compliments on it, which is cool. Remember the part where I said I have trouble with confidence and I have to fake it? Well, it might not be ideal (because it should probably come from within), but some of my confidence comes from other people, from knowing I look alright. And it's a sort of domino effect from there (or snowball effect?! One of those.). Start feeling better about myself, start treating myself better, start wearing clothes that actually fit (bye, sweatshirt!), realize I can look attractive. You get it. And once all that happened, it became easier to lose weight. Not everyone wants to lose weight, but I definitely did/do, so it was a welcome change.

I guess my point is that confidence is important. And luckily, it's possible to learn to be confident even if you've grown up without much sense of self-worth.

But there's another sort of difficult topic that comes up whenever we talk about weight: health.

I'm not going to pretend I don't get especially annoyed when very thin people subtly berate fat people by throwing the word "health" into the mix. "I'm so glad she loves her body as is but doesn't she worry about health?!" I've seen that comment so many times on various social media posts or stories. If you're honestly concerned about a friend's weight affecting her health, that's one thing. You hopefully know how to talk to your friends and know what boundaries may or may not exist. I have two friends who I know have worried about my health in the past, specifically because of my weight. To me at least, that's different from commenting on a stranger's picture. It doesn't offend me, and since it's a conversation with friends, everything is explained.

The problem is when folks (men and other women alike) feel the need to comment on other people, especially people they don't know. "She should worry about her health" is, most often, a thinly veiled fat-shaming comment. The way I know this is that I've never seen anyone post a comment on a picture of a bikini clad and extremely tanned thin women lamenting the apparent excessive exposure to sun. I've read oodles of lighthearted posts that glorify drinking loads of alcohol - I've not seen comments from a concerned citizenry outlining the health risks of alcohol. But as soon as there's a post that features a heavy woman looking damn fine, suddenly everyone is a doctor. It isn't a general concern for others if the only time it appears is in the presence of a fat person. 

And though it's beside the point, being "heavy" doesn't necessarily mean a person is unhealthy. I've been losing weight, but I'm still obese. And just a few weeks ago I was still technically morbidly obese. And guess what?! My cholesterol is just dandy! My joints aren't buckling under my weight! Blood sugar is A-OK. If you read this blog even semi-regularly, you know I have health issues. Not one of them has been caused by weight. Being fat doesn't mean you're ignoring your health, and I really wish people would stop acting like it. 

That said, is there any truth to it? Does being overweight make you unhealthy? I think it's clear that it's risky. I'm not unhealthy right now because of my weight. I have plenty of perfectly healthy overweight friends. But it does increase chances of developing certain diseases. It can also make things like childbearing a little riskier than it would be otherwise. And if you have an existing health issue unrelated to weight, being overweight can make your symptoms worse. To me, that's a sort of grey area; It's not unhealthy, but it's something to consider.

And on that, everyone is going to be different. Some people won't mind increased risks. (You remember the study that just caused a widespread sadness? The one that said bacon is a sort of carcinogen or whatever? Yeah. I don't doubt it, but I don't care, either. To be fully honest, I care about my life and I hope to live long but I also hope to live fully and bacon is terrific. That's a risk or a trade off that I'm fine taking, as are many other people.) Other people will look at the risks caused by obesity and try and maintain a "healthy" weight. Either choice is cool.

When I got serious about losing weight and I started to actually follow through, I laid out some rules for myself. I'd never use food as a punishment. I wouldn't ever entirely swear off a delicious type of food just because of the calorie count. If I want to, I will eat a sweet snack or dessert. I won't put food or food choices above experiences or people. I will enjoy eating and I will enjoy food.

When I think back to some of my favorite moments over the last few years, many of them involve food. Sunday nights watching Once Upon a Time over a delicious home cooked meal. Pizza and wings for football games. Going to Barnes and Noble with Liz after pigging out on mall food. I value those things more than I value being a size 10. It's hard for me to respect people who insist that other people make diet changes that don't fall into their value system.

My own rules are to not over indulge (if I'm full, I won't keep eating just because I love the taste), to not drink soda for every meal, to try very hard not to eat when I'm bored, to be physically active, and to eat a variety of foods. Ultimately my hope was that these rules would lead to a well rounded and healthy life, and I feel like I'm absolutely getting there.

For a little while, I'd feel bad for wanting to lose weight, or at least for talking about it publicly. I almost felt as though I was insulting people who are perfectly content being overweight. (I think this is part of why I have trouble talking about weight.) Then one day it hit me that, you know, not everything is about me. Just because I want something doesn't mean other people want the same thing, and more importantly (because I think it's what was driving the guilt), it doesn't mean anyone is wrong for not wanting to lose weight.

That said, it's a sensitive topic to talk about. There are a million reasons to want to lose weight. There are a million reasons to not worry about losing weight.

My own experience is the former. Now, if I had to change one thing about myself, or magically bestow one quality, it would have nothing to do with weight. Being thin is not my number one goal in life. But I like how I look much better when I'm not as overweight as I am now. My face is totally different than it used to be, and I'm not wildly fond of it. I also don't like certain physical aspects (like, I can feel my double chin and it just feels in the way. no thanks!). And those health risks? I don't want to take them. I figure I've spent more time in doctors offices and being poked by needles than I could ever have wanted, and I'd like to NOT have as many health issues when I'm older. Maybe I'll still have some of the medical problems I have now, maybe I won't. But I don't want to risk adding to that list. I've also started to value my body more, and I want to take care of it - that doesn't mean maintaining a certain weight, but it did mean I had to stop eating fast food every single day, which has helped take a few of the pounds off.

This has turned into an epic rambling. I don't even remember my original point. But I do know that we should probably get rid of shame when we talk about weight.
__
Charlotte 

Weight a Minute

Award for worst title goes to me. 

Everyone who reads this blog (wassup Liz) knows I've been trying to lose weight for a long ass time.  (Wanted to somehow make a "wide ass" joke in that sentence but I'm just not too clever today.)

Well, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm making substantial progress.  I've lost weight before, but I usually put it back on.  I've never tried hard enough to change my habits in a way that would make me reach my ideal weight and then stay there.  (I say "ideal weight" but it's not a specific number, and I think it's mostly bad for me to aim for a number.  So instead I aim for a range - for me, it's 155-175.)  For the last couple of weeks I've been putting a little more effort into the whole thing.  I've been reluctantly (very, very reluctantly) changing my eating habits and I've been working out.  

I've been doing a couple of different things to "work out" every day.  I have been sedentary for such a long time that I physically cannot do many things, so I've had to start small.  My daily minimum is using these tiny 3-5 pound dumbbells for at least ten minutes, doing ten half push-ups, doing 10-20 squats (WORST WORST WORST), and doing some leg lifts.  I realize that sounds like nothing, but it's a *big* step up from my previous routine of sit, sit, sitting all day.

Usually, I try to add to that.  For example, I was watching a baseball game on tv the other day and I decided I'd use the dumbbells until the end of that inning.  (This has been a good way for me to stop eating out of boredom, too.)  I've been doing this kind of thing a lot now, especially when I'm watching tv.  Commercials, the boring stretches in baseball games, halftime, etc.  I feel like it's likely useless when it comes to losing weight (because it's such a short amount of time) but I figure it might be making me slightly stronger or more flexible or whatever.  I also have started lying to myself and saying that working out is a treat.  I imagine I actually will enjoy working out once I'm not so out of shape, so it's not a complete lie.  But I'll read or write and then be like, "wow, I deserve a quick work out."  (smh.) 

Annnd I've been trying to either play basketball or go for walks.  I've been pretty successful.  (Ironically, I have not done so today.  But I'm sick, so...)  

I've been walking between half a mile and a mile every day, and I'm going to try and increase that distance a little bit.  I also have a weighted vest, and I think in a week or two I'll actually be capable of wearing it while I walk.  Right now it's just a mostly-flat (a few small hills and steps) path, but as I get more fit I plan on throwing in the occasional difficult walk.  oooo.  

I've also discovered that everyone is a liar.  Everyone says that working out feels great.  Working out does not make my body feel great.  Working out makes my body feel like it wants a percocet followed by a glass of wine. 

But hey, that's just me.  

The really difficult part for me is the eating.  Since increasing the amount of vegetables I eat, I do notice myself craving healthier stuff more often, but... if I'm craving a banana split, two grapes is not going to satisfy me.  Also, I live with family and for the most part, I have to eat what they eat.  (All good meals, but it's hard to cut back on certain things when I'm not in charge.)  Just.... changing eating habits is much more difficult for me than changing exercising habits.

So this is kind of where I'm at.  I put a lot of weight back on a little while ago when I had (ahem) my period and endo symptoms for a month, so I've had my work cut out for me.  But I've lost over 15 pounds since then, and one of my goals for this month is to lose at least seven pounds, so we shall see.      

Cookies and pie, goodbye. 

__

Charlotte