THAT is the woman I see in the mirror...

I was the bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding two weeks ago. I told the photographer, also a friend of mine, that I would happily be in any photo as long as I never have to see them.

And then yesterday happened.

The photos were uploaded to Facebook. I have been off and on again close to tears since seeing them.

I see myself in the photos, and that is not the woman I see in the mirror each morning.  The photo with this post... THAT is the woman I see in the morning. She's fluffy, but she's adorable and has a bit of pizzazz in her step.

I’m pretty real with myself about my body image. I know I am overweight, I have struggled with this my entire life… and I know it takes the world’s opinion about my level of attractiveness and kicks it in the shins. However, the photos made me feel like the ugliest and most unwanted person on the face of the earth (and it wasn’t the photographer, she did a great job on the wedding photos).

The last time I saw the clock before going to sleep, it was about 2am. I woke up multiple times during the night and come 7am, I got up with no alarm because I had nightmares about the photos all night and didn’t want to return to them. I arrived to work at 8:40am.  To most, this is a fairly normal arrival time.  For me… well, it was significantly early for my I’m-not-a-morning-person 10am-6pm schedule.

My anxiety triggers are generally anything to do with motor vehicles, and large groups of people/social situations.  Apparently, so is my body image.  I try to be strong and tough about it, but it is getting more difficult to cope with. 

I work hard to eat healthy. Heck, I eat healthier than most of my thinner friends. Seriously. Not fair? Yeah, I know. Exercise is something I need to work harder to include in my life; I know this. I have heard often that with weight loss, it’s like 80% diet and 20% exercise – so you’d think I’d be able to tackle this better.

Case in point, I am going to start a new chapter of becoming well again.

I’m tired of everything, and changes need to be made.  I’m especially tired of the last few years of being treated like a guinea pig/lab rat by various medical providers. Between the aftermath and effects of being hit by that drunk driver almost 10 years ago, my weight, and multiple misdiagnoses regarding what’s going on in my brain (currently we're down to temporal lobe seizure activity, anxiety, and possible PTSD)… I’ve been medicated off and on with several variations of poison for the last 5 years.  I’ve been put on Dextroamphetamine (Dexedrine), Lamotrigine (Lamictal), Tegretol (Carbamazepine), and the most recent round was Celexa (citalopram) – and it destroyed me.  I gotta tell you, the Lamotrigine and Celexa were the worst. Oh. My. Heck.

My next neurology appointment is in June, with an MRI scheduled during May.  I’m going to call my neurologist next week and tell him I don’t want to be put on any other medication until I see him again. Until then, I will be doing a cleanse and exploring some natural/homeopathic options for the anxiety, which will include working to get my weight down. I can’t control what happens on the roads, or how I react to social situations, but my weight… that’s something I can (with great effort) control. Right? Right???

Wish me luck, send over some prayers, and everything will be OK.

The Healer's Art - A Burden Made Light

On September 25th, 2005 a man in Maryland got in his car after drinking and changed my life forever.

My last memory before waking up with my car crushed like a soda-pop can ready for recycling was of a sign I passed a mile before I was hit. I still remember nothing other than the sound of screetching tires; a sound that is the background music for my nightmares. Investigators deduced from tire marks on the road and my impecable driving record, that my little 1993 4-door Suzuki Swift was stopped at a red light and the man hit me going 65-75 miles per hour with no attempt to slow down; the screetching tires I heard were MY tires.

My right leg is deformed from an unusually large femoral artery hematoma that did not reabsorb as predicted, which turned into a mass of scar tissue nobody really wants to operate on.

I know what it feels like to hit something with such forward force that one's sternum breaks, and the agony of waiting an entire year for the ability to finally breathe, laugh, cough, and sneeze without literally wanting to die.

This is why airbags were invented. Sadly my car didn't have them.

The force of my body bouncing back off the steering wheel broke my seat. I woke up laying down.

The sternum break alone partially disabled me from the waist up for multiple months. I had to buy paper plates and other disposable dishes and utensils because I physically couldn't lift a dish, wash it, and put it in the dish drainer. I can't even describe the torture of basic hygiene tasks; I once sat in my old clawfoot tub for well over an hour bawling because I couldn't figure out how to get up without using my arms.

I bawled through plenty of other embarassing tasks as well.

My stubbornly independent self was compelled to be humble because I was dependent on the kindness of others for many things. Lee, a homeless man in the neighborhood, helped me with my laundry each week at the Laundromat in exchange for pocket change and the opportunity to be indoors with me while we waited for the clothes to get done.

I was fired for the first (and only) time from my job.

I walked about 20 blocks round-trip twice a week through downtown Baltimore's infamous North Avenue, the (or one of the) largest drug-trafficking areas in the nation in order to get to physical therapy because most of the bus drivers refused to serve me due to my white skin.

Yes, that really happened.

I was diagnosed and on medication for 6 months (felt like an eternity) for Bipolar II.  In December 2012 my psychiatrist ordered an EEG on a hunch and discovered I was misdiagnosed.

Turns out I have temporal lobe seizures (primarily caused by traumatic brain injuries) which manifest themselves with emotional/behavioral symptoms often identical to those who suffer from Bipolar, depression, anxiety, etc.

Fortunately the blackouts/unexplained lapses of time I kept experiencing tipped the psychiatrist off that something else was actually going on.

Unfortunately I may never be able to eat grapefruit again (it messes with the seizure meds I'm on).

Even 8+ years later, that one man's poor choice to drink and drive haunts my every waking moment. I have no doubt that it always will.

Do I forgive the man who did this?

Of course. We all make mistakes and poor choices, and we are expected by God to forgive all our trespasses; seventy times seven, and again. I can't argue with that. I also cannot honestly report that forgiveness happened overnight. It was a very slow and emotionally draining process. To my dismay, the proverbial weight of this burden was not made lighter despite the sincerity of my forgiveness years ago.

And then today happened.

One conversation with the right person can be life changing.

You know that light, almost-fluttery, somewhere between excitement and nervousness, breathless feeling you get in the borders of your heart right before tears of joy appear?

Yes, thaaaat feeling.

That is what it feels like; to be relieved of the last chunk of a burden you've been hefting around for exactly 8 years and 6 months to the day.

Joy; this is what true joy must feel like.

I leave you to ponder the message from "Lord, I Would Follow Thee", hymn 220 from the Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints; my lullaby of March 25, 2014:

Savior, may I learn to love thee,
Walk the path that thou hast shown,
Pause to help and lift another,
Finding strength beyond my own.
Savior, may I learn to love thee— 

Lord, I would follow thee. 

Who am I to judge another
When I walk imperfectly?
In the quiet heart is hidden
Sorrow that the eye can’t see.
Who am I to judge another? 

Lord, I would follow thee.

I would be my brother’s keeper;
I would learn the healer’s art.
To the wounded and the weary
I would show a gentle heart.
I would be my brother’s keeper— 

Lord, I would follow thee.

Savior, may I love my brother
As I know thou lovest me,
Find in thee my strength, my beacon,
For thy servant I would be.
Savior, may I love my brother—

Lord, I would follow thee.

God threw the cherry on top...

Yesterday was an oober bad day.

When your whole day goes kinda rotten, you get to mid-evening and ask God, "Alright, what else do you have coming?  The other shoe has to drop sometime, you gonna let it fall now so I can just get it all over with?"

And then He takes your symbolically Pepto-Bismol Icescream Sundae of a day and throws the cherry on top of it. 

Joe broke up with me on a walk later in the evening.

And that's all I'm going to say about it.  This chapter is closed.

 I fibbed.  I'm a writer, chapters don't close in our world.  I will probably rehash it once in a while.  Respectfully, of course.  I mean, come on, we had good times.  Joe's a great guy.  I still have photos to share from some of our adventures!  

There are good memories and life lessons embedded in this experience and to back me up, Spencer W. Kimball once said, "No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted.  It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude, and humility.  All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God."

Kapput. Done. Gone.

Spring break around the nation has arrived for school-aged children, college students.... and WATCH OUT, I've been thinking.

Children and young adults of America are soft with their expectancies of seasonal breaks.

One day folks, you will NOT have 2 weeks of "veg" time around the holidays in December..... you will NOT get a week off from life to combat cabin-fever in March... you may not get Labor Day off, or Presidents Day off, or -Gasp!- the day before Thanksgiving off from whatever you may be doing. Oh, and the whole summer break deal, don't get used to it.

Yes, loathe graduation from whatever mucky-muck university you attend, for therein encompasses the day all your needed no-questions-asked vacation time ends.

Kapput. Done. Gone.

I've known multiple people who take leave from work for spring break that doesn't exist anymore, or Christmas break that doesn't exist anymore.... even at the expense of their employment.

It makes no sense.

Our educational system made them soft. So soft they figured they DESERVED that select time off from work and didn't stop and consider the consequences of their demands. What are they going to do when they have a family? "Hey sweetie, it's that time of year again, spring break is back and I'm outa here. See you and the kids in a week. Oh, and by the way, I lost my job. They just didn't get the memo that the world revolves around ME."

If life doesn't give us breaks for seasonal relaxation and recuperation, then why the heck are we preparing the children of today, and the leaders of tomorrow, with the luxury and false idea that it does???

Five good things

I am so glad to back in the social work field working hard and serving others. As inspired by some clients I work with, here are some things I want to share with cyberspace today:

1. Every person has something to offer the world.
2. No matter what one has done, does, or will do... they posses great value.
3. Anyone can teach another something new.
4. A sincere smile is heart-warming and bridges even the widest divisions.
5. Life is wonderful! Really, it's unquestionably beautiful.

The Friend Zone

I was asked to write a blog entry about a recent conversation I had with a good friend of mine.

I have been working for a few days on an applicable post and... it keeps turning into an angry ranting session. I don't want that on this blog.

So, I have decided to share the conversation. I have edited the convesrsation somewhat to protect the identity of my friend and to bring out the best of true, sincere, and raw emotion.

Please read this gently, and with an understanding heart. This illustrates the feelings and frustrations of millions of women (and men even) around the world. I've had similar conversations with many of my friends over the past few years, it was high time for this to enter the borders of my blog.

"Me" is obviously my side of the conversation. "A.G.C." is my friend, short for "A Good Catch".

This is dedicated to everyone who understands.

A.G.C.: Why do boys have to be so freaking retarded!?!… I never feel pretty enough, or funny enough, or whatever enough… I don't look like [insert name here], and therefore I feel un-datable sometimes.

Me: Amen, Amen, and AMEN… Who's [insert name here]?

A.G.C.: “…that girl that all the guys want to date… The skinny fun girl… one of those girls that I'll never be.

Me: You don't have to be her, or like her. Nobody does, including me. These great guys in your life are stupid not to pursue you. I don't understand them.

A.G.C.: I know. I don't either.

Me: I don't know what to tell you though. I've been in the same boat. If there were a miracle dating cure, I'd drive it to [insert location here] RIGHT NOW. I wish I could make all the wonderful guys we know see how awesome you are and realize that they have the catch of their lifetime right before them.

A.G.C.: I do too. Because I am a dang good catch.

Me: HECK YEAH

A.G.C.: But they can't seem to see past these extra pounds or something.

Me: My extra pounds are better doors than windows too. Pounds or not though, I want to find a man who sees me when others don't. Don't you?

“I want to find a man who sees me when others don’t…”

Me: The question being, where are those guys?

A.G.C.: Totally. Exactly!! We need to find those guys!

A.G.C.: At least we know that when we find a guy he will love us!!

A.G.C.: I just need to stop worrying about it but it's hard.

Me: That is so true. Same with friends... we know why our friends are there with us... certainly not because we look like runway models. Heavy people attract those who tend not to be... what's that word?... fickle?

Me: It's frustrating too.

A.G.C.: Yeah.

A.G.C.: And I think that it is easier for some strange reason for a girl to look past the outside while for a guy he just seems to see the outside.

Me: Yup... it does tend to be that way

A.G.C.: I just want to shake them and be like open your real eyes!!!

Me: Oh yeah.

Me: You know what I am starting to loathe?

A.G.C.: What?

Me: Being the "safe" date... that friend who’s a girl that guys are comfortable with because "I'm cool like that"...

A.G.C.: I know!!

A.G.C.: I go straight to the friend zone.

“I go straight to the friend zone.”

Me: We could invent a new monopoly game... "Don't pass go, don't collect $200, go straight to the friend zone!"

A.G.C.: Exactly, like the go to jail card but the friend zone!

A.G.C.: Like Go is a real date with maybe a kiss or a hand hold and we just stay in the friend zone and never get those stupid doubles to get us out!!!

Me: The dice are weighted

A.G.C.: Yep. Weighted for the skinny girls.

A.G.C.: That needs to be a blog!!!

Me: Is that a request?

A.G.C.: Yes!!

Me: Ok..... give me a couple days....

A.G.C.: Okay, I will. You'll be able to write it in a better way than I could.

Me: Well thank you. I'm flattered.

Me: Ooh! i'm so excited! This one's gonna be good. Oh, here's a funny quote. My mom was watching the tv show "King of Queens" and I heard the leading man say, "I'm gigantic, and I'm fair-skinned...the beach isn't the best spot for me."

Me: Cracked me up good!

A.G.C.: Yeah!!

A.G.C.: That's me!

Me: Me too!

Me: I was thinking at work that there should be sitcoms on featuring heavier women who are happy and successful. There are ones with heavier men, married to skinny women... and the men are often portrayed as somewhat mishaps. The Rosanne show was cool, but of course the family HAD to be dysfunctional and loud and obnoxious.

Me: It makes no sense

A.G.C.: Yeah. I totally agree.

Me: We need more positive publicity

“We need more positive publicity.”

A.G.C.: There's quite a few with a large husband and a small wife

Me: Of course, because big men are adorable. Didn't the instruction manual on life include that in your edition?

A.G.C.: Oh right....

A.G.C.: And big women are crazy and like cats.

Me: Yes, and teach kindergarten and wear big floral prints

A.G.C.: Exactly!!!

A.G.C.: But I wouldn't mind teaching Kindergarten.

Me: We need to find a movie that I LOVE. It's called "Fat like Me"

A.G.C.: Okay.

Me: I wish men who are extra-poundage-phobic in the dating realm were consistent and carried it through to the friend realm. It would make things less confusing... but at the same time maybe people can change....???

Nearly 13 years...

Gordon B. Hinckley

• A couple months shy of 13 years ago, this great man was called of God to serve as the prophet, seer, and revelator for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

• After church on Sunday, I heard word that He had passed away just hours before.

• I didn't completely believe it.

• The little child that exists in all of us, no matter what age, told me it couldn't be so.

• Sadly, it was.

• President Gordon B. Hinckley passed away Sunday evening at home with his family at the age of 97, making him the oldest living prophet the church has ever had.

• Now he is not only with Heavenly Father again... but he has now rejoined his wife and eternal companion. How great is that? I think it's absolutely wonderful.

Breakfast Post

This is an I'm-multi-tasking-eating-breakfast-and-posting-in-my-blog-at-the-same-time morning.

That one I promised about the trip with my dad to get my car? Don't worry, it's coming... eventually.

Just a quick update on life:

I AM KEEPING VERY BUSY.

(Thank goodness.)

The dating scene is gone - don't cry about it. I just had the feeling, intuition, whatever you want to call it, that I shouldn't be dating the young man I was. About a week ago I called it off. I'm sure billions of women around the world, if they knew, would come and kick my tail-end over it. He's a really nice and caring guy, and so many women out there never encounter such kindness in a relationship. We just weren't meant to be, and that's that. 12/20/2007 Note: Any hint of kindness abruptly ended one week after the breakup. He went off his rocker. Scared the crap out of me for weeks... and when I say 'scared' I mean it. I just don't get it. This is the time in our lives where dating and breaking up is normal, and part of the process to find that one special someone. It hurts sometimes, but it is to be taken in stride and not used as an excuse to harass and stalk people.

People are already starting to dabble in my personal dating (or non-dating) life. Some get thrills from setting people up. Word to the masses:

I'm not one to be on the prowl in regards to dating.

I'm not even really looking - just living.

Doggone it, I barely even have time to eat breakfast, let alone date. Speaking of which, I have to run to work NOW.

Have a great day.

From disaster to goosebumps of joy... this covers it all.

Sunday morning was disastrous. Saturday evening was pretty frightening too.

I returned home from work around 11pm on Saturday and discovered that the front door was completely unlocked. No big deal except that my parents were out for the weekend... and there were a bunch of rotten apples all over the front entry of the house... and there was a paper ghost and a bag of candy on the front porch... and the dog was whimpering at the back door when I came in the garage. Holy cow, what broke loose? Why can't life just be normal for once. Never. Nada. Nuh-uh. On my time clock, normalcy does not exist.

I would have grabbed the dog and escaped to my friend's house for the night if it weren't for the fact that the parents have a security system on the house. The front door was unlocked, but was (thankfully) neither opened nor entered between the time my parents left the house and the time I returned to it. If it had been... I may have come home to find cops there waiting for me. Wouldn't that have been fun? I mean, 'Wouldn't that have been fun.' It was a statement of sarcasm, not a question. I love the English language.

Rotten apples. Well, uh, there were bags of apples on the front walkway of our house from the lady who shares the back fence. Someone (*cough*DAD*cough*) brought them inside and left them on a seat near the front door. He must have wanted to attract flies because half of them were ROTTEN.

I'm sure the paper ghost and bag of candy was a ding-dong-ditch effort. According to the note, someone at church was continuing a spread-the-holiday-fun tactic and left it on our porch after having the same done to them. For the record, I fully support cool stuff like this. However, the ding-dong part of the fun (and this is my theory) made the dog go crazy. In her crazy state near the door barking her butt off, she must have bumped the seat where the bags of apples were causing them to topple over on her, and all over the front entry way... hence the apple catastrophe and the whimpering dog upon my arrival.

Never ever ever a dull moment. Oh, it gets better.

I calmed the dog, brought the ghost goodies in, and deposited the apples back outside. Order was restored.

Until Sunday morning.

I came downstairs, after having budgeted my sleep to ensure a perfectly timed morning. I walked into the kitchen and -Sploosh! Glossh! Squirsh!- someone installed a pool where the kitchen had been... and doggone it, they forgot to heat it! Brrrr....

The water line to the freezer's ice-maker busted earlier in the week. Luckily, it was while the parents were still up and it flooded, but not TOO much. Dad fixed something the next day and all was well. Sunday morning, apparently it busted again. For all I know, the stupid thing had an aneurysm 2 minutes after I went to sleep and was leaking ALL NIGHT LONG. I spent my morning removing water from the floor and carpet, moving the refrigerator, and being drenched with explosive cold water while trying to reach the shut-off valve.

Again, never a dull moment.

I did everything I could, and managed to get myself out of the house only 20 minutes behind my targeted time. My motivation was the insanity... I had to g-e-t- a-w-a-y.

Upon leaving, I opened the garage and noticed that... it snowed. That very Sunday, October 7th 2007, for the record, was the first snow for Anchorage, Alaska this year. It was a mere light dusting, but hey, nearly 2 days later it's still here. It makes me almost proud that it is so hardy, yet at the same time I'm upset. I was hoping it would hold out at least another 2 weeks before any snow set foot here at sea level. Grrrrr. I mean, 'Brrrrrr'. Nope, I do mean, 'Grrrrrrr'.

Keep reading after the photos....

So, despite all the happenings of the weekend, it was an excellent one. Sunday I was really cheerful after I was able to leave the house. Y'know, lately I have been in a great mood, wonderful even.... and it just occurred to me that the title of my blog itself may just seem appropriately applicable at this moment. Oooh, I have goosebumps. You see, I have begun dating a very nice guy up here. He's different. He's cautious, careful, charitable, and considerate. He loves his family and has a good relationship with them. He's respectful and chivalrous. He listens, but he can also hold his own in a conversation. He's thoughtful and kind. He's honest, and voices his opinion. Best of all at the moment... his presence, his light, in my life is causing me to smile a whole lot, to feel happy, joyful, and elated.

Indeed, "One person can make a difference"...

Home Again.

It has been quite a while since I have written. I'd apologize, but I'm not really that sorry. It's MY blog, and MY writing schedule... I will write when I feel like it, I won't when I don't. Done deal.

After living between Utah and Maryland since June 2003, I have finally returned home to Alaska.

My new motto: I don't belong anywhere South of Canada.

I returned home on August 29th. My parents couldn't cancel their travel plans after I called off the wedding so they came out and visited for the heck of it instead. I enjoyed having them in my domain, meeting my friends and "adopted" family, and watching them squirm on the Washington D.C. Beltway... only my most favorite road to travel.

My father returned to Alaska earlier than my mom, which gave us some time to travel North and visit her family in Upstate New York. I drove us up there, and I drove us back from there... and we managed not to kill each other. We even spent a fair amount of time laughing our tails off, admiring handsome men from the Middle East (New Jersey is full of 'em), and talking trash about toll roads. It was beautiful.

I wasn't sorry when I left Utah in 2004, not one bit. However, I am sad to have left the life I had in Maryland. I grew close to some of the most amazing people ever, whom I love so dearly. I learned a lot, drove a lot, laughed a lot, cried a lot, worked a lot, loved a lot, hurt a lot, changed a lot... Maryland is a very little state but, as you can see, it has a LOT of potential.

Alaska has a lot to offer too. First and foremost, it's home. I know my upcoming experiences back home will also be filled with a lot of learning, driving, laughing, crying, working, loving, hurting, and changing... because that's what life is all about. Well, maybe not the driving, but if you've ever lived in the Maryland/D.C. area you understand how lengthy drives become an indisputable part of life. I learned that I do my best thinking while I'm in the car... therefore, it's a hefty part of my life.

That's it for today. I pray this finds many people doing well.

Joanna