I Quit

So, I quit. I quit today, tomorrow and the day after. I am so tired of life right now. I am calling it quits. No I am not doing anything stupid like ending it completely. I just need a break. A break from everything.... So I am taking a break from blogging, housework, laundry, showers, church, family...... EVERYTHING. I think I'm going a little crazy.... But I think I am entitled to a little bit of crazy. The end.



I really liked this video. Thought that it was cute. .. Mostly I like the song.... So, here ya'll are. A fun turtle song


Playing With Boxes

I am longing for the simple life this morning.

When the 7 of us were growing up we had very little money. Because of this we made fun with what we had. We would turn the stairs into a slide by hopping in sleeping bags and sliding down. We turned the living room into a fort by taking the cushions off of the couches, stacking them by each other, and covering them with a sheet to make a roof. If all else failed there were always empty boxes laying around. We would have box races. We would all hop in our own box and scoot across the floor as fast as we could to the other side of the room. Here is a picture after such a race. These are my 3 oldest sisters, and in the background is one of my brothers.

I was thinking this morning how nice it would be to not have to worry about anything more than who would be the winner of a box race, or whose turn it was to slide down the stairs next. I guess you could say that I am feeling a little nostalgic today, and I am missing the more simple things in life. The simple things which are all too often set aside for the necessary like work, cleaning, exercise, etc.

Maybe today I'll play with some boxes and skip my daily torture session at the gym. That sounds heavenly.


Losing It....Whatever 'It" is

I painted this picture when I was 11, and found it today as I was fumbling through some old journals of mine. And no, it's not a self portrait... Thank goodness. It's sad really, looking at it made me long for change, for freedom... for SOMETHING. I have NEVER felt normal, and by normal I mean I have never felt like I was a "normal size" I have been obese in my mind my entire life.... When in reality, I weigh just over 100 pounds. Why would an ELEVEN year old have such a sad outlook, such a distorted view on her body?

I'll let you in on a secret for all of you fathers or future fathers.
It was my dad. In saying this, I realize that I make my own choices now, and that he was only the start of this path to nowhere.

I remember stepping on the scale. My dad, a local artist, had just bought a honey bee factory to house all of his artwork and supplies. In the waxy smelling barn type building were countless trinkets left by the previous owner. One of these was an antique scale. My dad, who had brought my grandma and aunt to see his new purchase had me step on the scale to show them how neat it was. I was in 5th grade at the time. The hand slowly rounded the dial and pointed to 116. My dads jaw dropped, and what he said next will forever play in my head when I get on a scale "oh my gosh, you weigh over 100 POUNDS?!"
Embarrassed and confused I stepped away from the group and found a place in the dusty rafters to cry. My brothers, who would follow my dads example would make comments like "you are fat and ugly, and no one will ever want to marry you. No one could ever love you etc. etc."

My dad was always concerned with how "fat" his girls were (there are 5 of us). This is because my mom is obese. She wasn't always this way though. When my parents were married my mom was super thin, and she continued to be until she had her 7th baby. My dad would always make comments about how mom was fat, and how if we ate too much we would look like her. I remember having a bowl of mashed potatoes once, and my dad commenting on how I shouldn't eat it because I was going to gain weight. I began to be embarrassed of eating food in front of anyone, especially my dad. He would often tell me to get outside and go running. Perhaps this is why I absolutely Despise myself if I miss a workout.... Somehow I always feel like less of a person, and more of a failure when I don't workout. I began running every night in junior high. I would run 4 miles away from home so I would be forced to run the 4 miles back. 8 miles a night, every night including Sundays I would run.... I would run away from the failure I would feel, from this picture I had in my head of myself as a fat lonely old woman.... I could really go on for hours about all of the things which have brought me to this point, but I have things to do. For now, I am sick of waking up in the morning and hating the person that I see.

For all of you dads out there, please be careful with the tender spirits of your children. Let them know that your love is unconditional.... And that size does NOT matter.


Testing Testing 123

COMPUTER CRASH! Bad day today, as you may have already ascertained. My computer decided to catch a few bugs and is under the weather. So no new pictures of the "Daily Find" today. Hopefully the ol' guy will be doctored tomorrow, and I'll be up and running again tomorrow.

I'm on my husbands laptop--The slugs are courtesy of John Doe, one of his recent caving trips. Computer or not every blog needs a little color--This is stressful. I am so paranoid that he will find my "Uncensored Mind" and then I would lose my freedom to write what I wish without trying to sugar coat things. It's interesting the way we are as humans. We go throughout our lives looking for meaning, for truth, for sincerity from others.... Yet we spend so much time hiding that truth. We hide the things we think others will fear or disapprove of, the things that are considered to be socially wrong... The list of things we hide is endless, and the list of why we hide them is longer. So just for fun I am going to divulge something I hide from others at the end of my posts.
Numero Uno- I shaved my head, then followed that with purple hair dye when I was 15. I looked like a boy and was often referred to as "the little brother". The only thing my mom said was "at least you have a nice shaped head." I thought that I was a "punk rocker", when in reality I was just.... Stupid. The End.


Not Nearly as Glamorous....

Yes... a pinecone. sigh. I realized today that unless I run into more interesting things on my runs that my "daily find" thing won't last very long. Today, as you can see wasn't a great day for finding a treasure. Just not my day I guess.... Not saying that pinecones aren't exciting, afterall pine trees sprout from them. Anyway, I have reconsidered doing this every day, and I have decided to only post when I find something noteworthy.

Thought for the day: Sometimes what seems to be simple on the outside is really very magnificent.


Oh Din-o-saur

I went on a 9 mile run this morning... OUTSIDE!
This was the first day that it has been warm enough for me to actually want to run outside, although it still only got up to 35 I was OK with this because I really didn't want to run 9 miles on a treadmill. Do you have any idea how boring that is? Last week I did 8 miles on the treadmill at the gym and hated every minute of it. There just isn't enough to keep me entertained. I never watch the TV at the gym either, just listen to music. Those boob tubes that hang from the ceiling just don't do it for me. I like to see things, contemplate my direction in my day/life.. This is what I did today. As I ran I thought about random events which have brought me to this point in my life. I think so clearly as I run, and I am able to sort out all of the clutter which builds up from time to time. Trouble is... when I stop running I often forget all the things I had thought about... (ADD?)
So I have decided that I am going to make each run more memorable. I am going to bring back one daily find (something that I found while running) and post a thought or two I had along with my "treasure" on this little bloggy-thingy I have going.

So here goes the first daily find. I found this little guy laying on the side of the long canyon road I ran. He was just sitting there all extinct looking, I'm sure he had been rolled over by quite a few minivans. I would like to think I saved his life, and he is in debt to me. After all it's quite nice to have a dinosaur in your corner, might come in handy. Anyway, as I ran this long stretch of road I counted a total of 5 dead deer, all of which I'm sure had been rolled over by a a few minivans as well. It was a very sickening sight. It made me think about this little green guy I held in my hand, and how the dinosaurs actually became extinct. Maybe it was actually a very large Dodge Caravan.

Despite the deer, I LOVED the run today. I really have missed running outside, and I can't wait for the Spring to roll around so I can run outside daily.


Procreating Dishes

Has anyone ever seen that show on PBS with the little guy who lives on a cup; Teeny Little Super Guy?
Well, I think the guy had a little one night stand with the dishes that I left in the sink last night because when I woke up this morning my dishes had multiplied! He must have got around too, I don't remember that many dishes there last night.... Anyway, I guess that's how it is with anything really. If you procrastinate, waiting to take care of little things, don't they just seem that much more overwhelming when you finally try to take care of them? For now, I will blame Teeny Little Super Guy for my mound of dishes.


Admission of a Hypochondriac

Hypochondriasis (or hypochondria, sometimes referred to as health phobia) refers to an excessive preoccupation or worry about having a serious illness. Often, hypochondria persists even after a physician has evaluated a person and reassured him/her that his/her concerns about symptoms do not have an underlying medical basis or, if there is a medical illness, the concerns are far in excess of what is appropriate for the level of disease. --Thanks Wikipedia :)

Yes it is true, I am a hypochondriac.

The first time I thought that there was something majorly wrong with me was in Kindergarten. I remember walking home from school through a long alley to my house. This alley often was a hangout for local teenagers who would go there to smoke. One afternoon I passed by a cigarette that was laying on the ground and I picked it up thinking "wonder what this is like" I knew that cigarettes were bad for you, and that they caused cancer... This fact had been drilled into me when every time we visited my Grandma my mom would say "Grandma chooses to smoke, and she is going to get cancer and die." --on a side note, she did get cancer and die. I hate it when my mom is right. Makes her think she's always right--anyway, back to kindergarten. I knew smoking caused cancer, and ultimately death. In defiance I gingerly plucked the cigarette butt (which wasn't even lit) from the ground and raised it to my lips. I really don't know why I did this beyond the fact that I knew people put cigarettes in their mouths and I wanted to try it. So here I was cigarette in my mouth in the empty alley way. The second it touched my lips I flipped. I panicked, instantly that seed of fear my mother had placed into me started to grow. I dropped the butt and sprinted the rest of the way to my house crying. I WAS GOING TO DIE! I was inconsolable for almost an hour as thoughts of an unknown death raced through my head. I wasn't just scared that I would eventually get cancer. I knew that I already had it. I also swallowed a penny once and again, I was certain of my inevitable death.

Another time I watched a movie where a small boy was suffering from some horrible illness, and by the end of the movie I had made myself so ill that I vomited for the rest of the night.

It's interesting that the human mind could have so much control over the physical body, and its actions. I can't say that I am much better now. Last week I was convinced that I had oral cancer because I had a bump on my gums. Oh, and don't even get me started on those suspicious moles I have.... Hmmph.


Saturday Morning at the Gym

I feel great right now. I ran 8 miles this morning, in 63 minutes. Yahoo! I love the feeling of accomplishment I get after having a really good workout, knowing that I pushed myself.

On a more sober note; I have noticed this guy at the gym every time I go. He spends hours (no exaggeration) on the stationary bike. He is VERY thin. I didn't think anything of it until today; I saw him spend an hour on one bike then get up and move to another, only to bike for another hour. He looked at me when I first walked into the gym, and again as I was leaving. I think that he knew I noticed, because he put his head down with a look of embarrassment.

This is not a new experience for me. While I was in treatment for my own eating disorder there were numerous men who were seeking recovery as well. When I first saw men there, I remember thinking to myself "wow, I had NO idea" I really had always thought that women were the only ones to suffer from these horrible demons. I want to say it's almost harder for men because it's not seen as a problem for them. Most people don't think that men struggle with eating disorders. It must be a lot harder to seek help.

On a completely different subject; the in laws are coming over today. Not too excited about that.


Under Poncho. Under Pressure.

As you all know, I struggle with an eating disorder; Last night I had a dream, well more like a nightmare that I was back in Iraq. I dreamt that it was the first night of the war, just after my unit had crossed the border from Kuwait into Iraq. I remember this night like it was yesterday. There was a dust storm that night and it caused the sky to light up at nine o'clock at night like the fiery end of a cigarette blazing orange. I couldn't see a foot in front of me because of the sand, and I had an eerie feeling like this was a bad omen, that we shouldn't be here. This was wrong, all wrong. I had no idea exactly where we were, only that we were in the middle of the Iraq desert and there was nothing but sand for miles in all directions. I was the battalion surgeons driver. Doc was a salty old grey haired man who had spent the majority of his time as a Special Forces Ranger medic. He had a reputation for telling overweight soldiers what I'm sure many doctors would love to say to their patients: "Of course your back and knees hurt, You are FAT Lose weight, and your back won't hurt." (I edited out the cursing) He was hard, and he knew it. Because of his background as a "hard ass" the regular rules didn't apply to him, he was somehow able to get away with not following any type of regulation. The battalion commander had Doc leading the convoys and providing recon. This meant that this was my job as well since I was his driver. I'm sure he got a kick out of this, like one last hurrah, like the good old days he got to tramp around and play soldier one last time. I have to admit, I wasn't as excited as Doc. Here I was, in the middle of a war acting in the same capacity of a Special Forces reconnaissance team member. There was an AT4 behind our seat, we had M16's, hand guns, and grenades. I kept thinking to myself "I am a medic, I am supposed to be saving lives not taking them, how did I get here? I am supposed to be in an ambulance protected by the infantry unit that is attached to us, not the other way around." Something snapped inside. I was filled with the fear of the unknown. The fear of being unable to save a life should I be faced with that situation. I didn't know what else to do, so I did what I always did to feel release, I ate. Yes, I silently shoved bits of MRE (Meal Ready to Eat) into my mouth while doc drove through Iraq on the first night of the war. It calmed me the way that I assume a bottle calms a crying infant (sounds... strange, I know). The trouble was not that I ate, but that I NEEDED to throw up. I needed to purge, to get rid of what I had eaten. For those of you who don't know much about bulimia, it is not done for vain purposes, but more for control. I had felt out of control and knew no other way than this to feel control over this situation. That night we led one of our units to their Destination Point in Iraq. No lights were used, only NVG's (Night Vision Goggles). Using these goggles made everything glow a sick horror movie green. Only the blurry outlines of figures could be seen. During the convoy we stopped for a span of about 10 minutes so that the vehicles could rally. In desperation, knowing very well that anyone could see me with their NVG's, I pulled out my poncho, dug a hole in the sand, placed my pocho over my head and body and proceded to vomit the MRE I had just eaten. The fear of people seeing me do this through the lenses of their goggles was far less than the fear I had of not having control over this situation. The calm lasted only breifly, and was soon replaced with self loathing for my weakness. In Basic training I had been the distinguished honor graduate, I had been the soldier of the Year in Korea, and had ran on the Army 10-miler team.... And here I was, at war with my eating disorder in this foreign land, and it was winning. The next day we received notification that our Maintenance unit; the 507th http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/507th_Maintenance_Company had been ambushed.

I felt disgusted with myself. These people, many of whom I knew, died for our country, and there I was killing myself.


Like Graffiti.... Without the Spray Paint

Before I start, I would just like to begin by saying that I feel very small and insignificant today, invisible and unimportant.
In this life aren't we all just trying to leave our mark? To prove that we were here, that we existed. After all, wouldn't life be pointless if there were no accomplishments to be had? What's worse, is knowing that you did something, were someone.... And no one ever noticed. I believe this to be the reason bathrooms stalls and the sides of freeway underpasses are strewn with layers of paint and scribblings. We all want to be remembered, to be known, to know that your life has meaning.
I was thinking about all of this as I laid in bed last night unable to sleep. My mind was turning circles as I thought about all the things that I have done in my life that I did not only for my own satisfaction, but to be known, to be seen, not just as another human being, but as someone special. I joined the Army to feel special. Made my way to Korea, Iraq, Kuwait to feel special. I run races on teams to be special, take photos, create things.... You name it, I have done it to be seen. All of the things in my life, including this blog, they all add up to a whole lot of writing on the bathroom wall. Along with millions of other blogs, facebooks, myspaces. We are all participating in mass on line graffiti. In the end we are all searching for someone to SEE us, and in the process we become invisible among billions of "call Jan for a good time's" and "Pete's are neat's".


Jane's Predictions for 2009

The number of homeless Americans will increase drastically due to job loss, the housing crisis, rising cost of living, and Obama's failed "economic plan". Obama's plan which consists of "lending" billions of dollars to companies will ultimately fail and leave America in greater debt.

More hazardous chemicals will be found in a variety of Chinese products. This year was a bad year for Chinese exporters as many products (mostly for small children and infants) were found to contain hazardous or deadly chemicals.

Angelina Jolie will either make more babies or buy them. this will lead Brad to cheat on her while filming a love movie with some other hot actress. Angelina will be left with 10 kids and be forced to increase her number of nannys from 5 to 10.

Stock in Budweiser will triple as Americans drink away their woes.

Barack will pick a dog, weighing all the pros and cons of each breed, and meticulously deciding which dog will bring the most brownie/popularity points with the general public. I'll go as far as to say the dog may have only three legs. There's a way to get sympathy when your foreign relation policy falls through and America falls apart under your belt!

GM will unveil it's new line of fuel efficient cars, which will run soley on apple juice. This will lead employees at Tree Top apple Juice to create a new labor union.
Governor Sarah Palin will pose for Playboy Magazine as Miss March. Enough said.

George Bush has a massive stroke after seeing Palin as a centerfold.

Hope you all enjoyed my predictions for this year. Have a safe and happy year!!!


Slow Death at the Mortuary

This morning I found myself in a very ironically disturbing situation. For the past few months I have been training for a marathon. In the mornings I head to the gym to put unreal amounts of miles under my belt. Often on the way to the gym I am distracted by food, and end up making a few trips to fast food places. Today was one of these trips to the gym. After grabbing my goodies, I drove around like usual in search of an empty parking lot where I would not have witnesses catching sight of my ravenous eating. After a short drive I found a nice empty parking lot where I could do my dirty business. I parked, and looked around... I was in the parking lot of a mortuary. My thoughts raced and I felt a hot fear rush over me. Here I was, slowly killing myself, in the parking lot of a MORTUARY, a home that prepares deceased people for the grave. I felt sick inside. WHAT AM I DOING??! I don't want to die. I have so much to live for; Mr Doe, baby Doe, my family, friends. Flashes of someone finding me dead in my car with a danish in my mouth crossed my mind. What a way to die. I want to go out with a blaze, not in a car making a glutton out of myself. I want to die having the most incredible sex, jumping out of a plane, I would even settle for dieing in church, but NOT LIKE THIS. Today I faced my mortality, and then I ate my danish.


The Tale of the Magical Crackers

I got a magazine in the mail yesterday, and as I was thumbing through it today I saw this ad. Ah, what a happy, heart warming scene this is. Little Billy in his new Christmas sweater, Uncle Bobby and Aunt Jean smiling at each other like teenagers, mom smiling, everyone eating crakers and playing games. The text at the bottom of the ad reads: "Our Holidays weren't like anyone elses. We had these big magical crackers in our house that kept everyone happy. No one more than mom." My first thought was, yeah, I bet those crakers made your mom happy! They are probably the only thing that stops her from jumping out of her chair and strangling your Aunt for staining her table cloth and commenting on how your moms jeans are not flattering. Your dad probably loves the crackers too. Just give mom a box of those and he doesn't have to listen to the woman jabber on about how Clorox really does gets her whites really white.
Seriously though, this ad screams "have crackers at your house and your holidays, and everything else for that matter will be perfectly heavenly. You will regrow that leg you had chopped off a year ago in the war and all will be merry and bright."
Sorry, just a random vent about how we as society are suckered into thinking we NEED things to make our lives picture perfect.


Dinner With Charlie Brown's Parents

It's interesting to me how my mood can change with just a word from another person. Last night I was in a fairly decent mood. I had just finished cooking one of John Doe's favorites; enchiladas... But that is besides the point. As I was setting dinner out, proud of myself for conquering the world today and cooking dinner John Doe begins to tell me about this really HOT girl at the climbing gym.... STOP. He kept talking, but I didn't hear a word he said, all I heard was "wah wah wah" like the adults on Charlie Brown. There was a story behind it, I'm sure it was funny or antecdotal or had some sort of point, but I honestly heard none of it. In my head I was screaming... Oh ya? I used to be HOT too before I had your baby!! And UGH!! Why would you say that? Why are you looking at other girls? Are you not attracted to me? am I chop liver? I'm hideous! It's my butt isn't it, Oh, I HATE myself. I need to work out more, but I already do every day.... It's not enough. I just can't eat anymore. That's it I won't eat. I sat silent through dinner, the whole time Mr. Doe stared at me in wonder, curious to what had possibly occured to cause such a dramatic mood shift. Maybe I will tell him about all of the HOT guys at the gym that check me out while I'm running, then maybe he'll understand why my mood shifted from "today was good" to "I hate my body/life/etc"


Soy sauce and Saltines

Growing up in a house with 7 kids wasn't easy. It was every man for himself, first come first serve. I remember days when we had no food at all. Besides the random jar of half used ketchup or mustard, and various others questionable items which would haunt the back of our fridge for months until someone got up the nerve to touch it and throw it away. We would wait like lions ready for the kill when our parents brought home groceries. As soon as the bags were laid down we were like vultures to a carcass. If you were one of the unfortunate ones, there would be nothing left by the time you got there. I was the second youngest, and as such was often one of the unfortunate ones who would go without. Hunger would drive me to search out any food that I could find, and devour it. I'm surprised I didn't die of food poisoning, because often I would eat food that had sat in the fridge uncovered for months at a time growing mold. After a while I began to be more creative with the food I found. I would pour soy sauce over saltine crackers, mix up slurry's of condiments and shovel them in with a spoon. This may sound disturbing to those who ate waffles and syrup for breakfast, but when the pain of hunger kept me up at night there were drastic measures I was willing to take to fix it. My concoctions have evolved somewhat, but I wouldn't call them "normal" by any stretch of the imagination. When I am low on food that my husband won't notice missing I turn to my concoctions. Last night it was popcorn covered in frosting. When I was in The Army I would eat EVERYTHING out of the MRE's (Meals Ready To Eat). Those of you who have tried these know that this is nothing short of miraculous. I would mix the buttered noodles with the cheese sauce to mac and cheese, the spiced apples with a pop tart to make "apple pie". You name it, I have mixed it.

It's odd that a person who grew up with no food would do what I do with it now. I have such a warped relationship with food. I get hungry and eat the way a normal person does, but something clicks inside me, and I continue to eat and eat, as if every time I eat it will be my last.

Add this to the way society says a woman should look, and the comments my dad and brothers would make about my healthily plump 10 year old figure growing up and voila you have me. A bulimic 26 year old, and as I type I am shoving my face with a bag full of gummy bears.

Word of the day

I signed up about a year ago for the word of the day to be sent to my email from Dictionary.com. The words come with a sentence to give context to what the word means, but I think they could use a little sprucing up.
Today's word is:
hapless \HAP-lis\, adjective:
unlucky; unfortunate

The sentence they gave is:
It might explain how, on consecutive Sundays, quarterback Jay Cutler and Co. could be crushed by the hapless Oakland Raiders, only to pick up the pieces and dominate a New York Jets team that looked unbeatable.
-- Mark Kiszla, Denver Post, 2008-12-07

The new and improved sentence is:
The hapless lady at the gym fell off the treadmill this morning, what an idiot!

Or even better:
Isn't it hapless that I gained 10 freaking pounds over Christmas?!!!


Groundhog Day

For those of you who have seen the movie Groundhog Day with Bill Murray you know this sight well. Every day he awakes to a nightmarish repeat of the day before. Although there are slight changes in the events of the day, his day has the same ending, followed by the same beginning the following day. Not to sound horribly pessimistic, but this is my life. I started this blog because I have noticed a pattern in my life, a pattern of pretending to be ok, of saying what I think will be acceptable. Even though I feel as if I will emplode from what I hold inside. I am tired of pretending to be ok. I am through with saying only what I think will not harm others, I want to say everything. How liberating would that be? To be fully honest with everything you think, to be able to say the questionable things out loud? This is my sanctuary, a place where I will NOT edit the graphic and disturbing details of my life to save the tender feelings of others. Similar to how Bill Murray has no hesitation to do what he feels in Groundhog day, I will write what I desire, say what I want, and think how I want and not fear the reprocussions of tomorrow. I hope that you all enjoy this as much as I know I will.