Accountability partner

This is something I’ve been ruminating on for a few weeks. I need help in accomplishing my goal of losing weight. It occurred to me that in essence I need a minder, an accountability partner to accomplish this.

It bothers me to admit this, that I’ve proven incapable of staying on task. It seems like such a little think like staying on track, to exercise, to eat right, to stay motivated.

The worst part is I don’t even know what i mean by accountability partner. I need reminders to stay on task. I need someway to stay motivated. I need that whip in a sense, someone who can cheer me one and tell me to get back up. I guess I need someone like a coach to help guide me in this process.

I don’t know where to find one. Half jokingly thinking about making a personal ad.

BBW seeks an Accountability Partner for the goal of weight loss. Expected at least a two year commitment or when target goal has been reached, whichever comes first, 270ish lbs to ideal weight of 145lbs.

Seeking an hands on, micromanaged approach to help support, maintain and develop better life skills, help create and maintain target goals.

There are extreme challenges in this. Not only are there physical health concerns, currently under three different blood pressure medications but also some severe physiological instability, as in she’s fucking nuts and at times wakes up as different people and motivations.

Good news is she’s not drug user or an alcoholic. Still using a vaporizer but is stepping down the nicotine dosage. Coffee is just about four cups a day, two in the morning and two in the evenings. Not a big soda or junk food eater. Not a food sneaker. At times she does overeat due to emotions.

Mostly the biggest problem is between motivation and forgetfulness. Being DID has created numerous problems that i gotten used to and most around me don’t notice. I’m constantly playing catchup and that doesn’t work in weight loss.

I’m not an easy person to deal with as it turns out. I have very aggressive side who’s got a very cutting tongue. I have a side whose a damn bubble head of a seductress. And worse now is there is a kid who well, she’s trouble when she comes out. There is a guy but he’s the gatekeeper of traumatic memories but he’s a stubborn sort and does show up much.

I’ve got triggers. Some I know and more I don’t. I can’t touch peanut butter. Don’t ask why. Don’t ask me to eat it either. I can be jumpy. I have cptsd and it’s why I’m hyper alert.

I’ve got a lot stacked against me. I’m not afraid to admit I need some help.

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A Peak inside my head

I was looking at the 30 days Braver Challenge stuff and ended up looking at these anxiety videos for the first time. What struck me about this one, is that’s my normal, my mild level.

How do I describe what goes on in my head? The constant battle of beating down every threat? I see every threat. I see every possibility in every action. It can be paralyzing. And it was for a long time. I retreated into logic, divorced these thoughts from the emotions and forced the development of seeing the full range of possibilities to include the positive and the absurd.

I found in the absurd an unusual power to disarm fearful emotions. If I could laugh, I could break the physical spell it had over me. But it is still there. I am aware of it. It informs me, ready’s me and always too close to the surface. I am a super jumpy individual.

I limit myself on repeats to three. It’s only logical. Any more introduces an expanding rate of error and forces me to trust me; much like the carpenters axiom, measure twice, cut once. Any more is a waste of time as the likely hood of anything changing in the short interval between the urges measures only in the absurd and thus a marker of what can not be adequately prepared for.

And all of this is about control for me. I can not control my environment so I do everything to prepare for everything. It is irrational and I know this. Some days I lose and am swept away by this. Other days I can talk myself off this ledge and function past it.

I’ve paired my home environment to be very stable, very routine in it’s own chaos. One follows two which follows three. Every object has it’s general home. I allow a measure of chaos. I had to force myself to do so or else I would have become so rigid to be someone no one could live with.

But this is who I am at my best, when I am functioning well, functioning without the dark night of her soul, without depression. I cope. Some days I forget I am like this because on those days I am laughing and thus stronger. Most days I confront this for a few seconds before any action. I have to push it back down, parade the what ifs and blow them out of proportion like a balloon and set them flying. Good days, this is less than a minute. Bad days it goes down hill in increments of five. Some issues are still so heavy, its been months to years.

It is a part of me. And a few times it has served me very well and saved my life in the most literal of manners. Other times it has proven to be mortifying if I allowed myself to feel that emotion. It does isolate the hell out of me. I find people in general, taxing and crowds unbearable. It’s not the unpredictability because even crowds are quite predicable in ways. I think it’s computation fatigue. The only way I can compensate is to employ a form of mental blinders. I don’t see people in crowds, I see forms, figures, reduced to my radius in seconds of actions. I have to turn away a lot.

Parents with small children really upset me. I see a world measured in what ifs overlapping constantly the what is. And I had to figure out what is acceptable harm but children throw that right out the window. Too often I have to remove myself before I over-react to what most others would consider harmless.

I have the need to control everything and everyone around me. I know this is impossible, impractical and irresponsible to the max. I know in the long run I must allow people to make their own mistakes even if I can see them long before they can. It is why very few people are allowed to be close to me, to know me.

I keep working on it. Some days it bucks me off but I still get up, dust myself off and get back on.

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I’m Alive

I’m still alive. Hurting but healing. I will be returning to posting here on WordPress and hopefully stretch my wings and try out a few more places. Right now I am sure it’s not good for me to talk about all that’s happened. It is enough that I am Alive.

I have plans and dreams. I have goals. Beaten but not defeated.

So, more to come. Expect drastic changes.

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Why Can’t I be Happy?

I’d like to introduce to you JP Sears, “a an emotional healing coach, international teacher, world traveler, and curious student of life.” I have found his videos to be hilarious and insightful and best taken with a good bag of salt. No matter if he’s serious or humorous he feeds me food for thought.

Do check out his YouTube channel AwakenWithJP or his website Awaken With JP.

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The Oddity of Dreams

Last week I had a dream I still don’t know how to interpret. My dreams are often prophetic or informative. This felt different in a way I had not experienced.

When my father died over a year ago, I spent the next six months having nightmares. Each one reliving the days after my mother died. Each one reliving the abuse at his hands. Each one in perfect detail and recollection. And they hurt. Yet the dreams stopped as abruptly as they started and I breathed a sigh in relief.

Been almost over a year and then I had a dream about my father.  In my dream, I returned to the family home and saw on the door a child’s drawing and pictures taped to the side of the house. The fury and rage that coursed through me should have sizzled me awake or at least into awareness that this was a dream. I opened the front door to see my father alive, healthy and in good spirits. He was surrounded by other people, unknown people as kids ran around, in and out of the house. Even the home was different- bigger, more alive, farm like. There were even goats there in the back yard.

This wasn’t the same man. It was as if I was given a glimpse in the multiverse and saw a version of my father that had made all the right choices and was rewarded for them. Family, love, life, grandchildren, laughter all surrounded him. And I, I was a stranger.

In this dream, I didn’t exist. I nor my sisters were born to him. And I went out to pet the goats, bemused. I was drained of anger. That man was not the one I was angry at. Yet I live and am alive due to his wrong choices.  We don’t get to choose the why of things in life. We do get to choose what to do with the choices we have.

And the goats. Never forget about the goats. I used to dream of taking care of goats once upon a time. They are so cute! And my father had the stock phrase of someone “getting his goat.” I guess in that universe he kept all his goats after all.

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Facing the week with gratitude. 

It was just a few Fridays ago I wondered what would happen if I faced the week with gratitude instead. Sounds like a good idea so here we are.  I don’t know what a majority of gratitude habits are but I’ll share mine.

I like to journal. When I do keep up with it –I’m really bad at doing so – I tend to record three things I’m grateful for that day.  So that’s what I’m going to do, share a little of my morning journal with you.

Today I’ve been thinking about all the people in my life. I have some very dear friends and moments like this I know I don’t show them my appreciation as much as I should. I don’t have many I call as friends but those that are, I know I can count on no matter what. To them I wish to say, thank you for being my friend.

I’ve also been especially grateful towards my husband. He’s stayed upbeat and chipper though this whole moving process and still manages to look out for me and make me smile. He makes me feel spoiled, in a good way.

I’m grateful that I’m happy. I’m not depressed. I’m not even feeling anxiety right now. I feel like I got my head on proper for the moment. I don’t know if it’s due to dietary changes I’ve made or what. Still having sleep issues but they will work out. I can smile and feel it. It’s such a wonderful feeling of feeling a smile inside as well as out and knowing it’s not faked at all. I’m grateful for these precious days.

I do tend to repeat things like these due to events around me. I’ve noticed that the happier I am, the more I notice people’s actions in my life. Which leads to an abundance of smiles, laughter, and love.

May you all find your abundance of smiles, laughter, and love.

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Deepish Thoughts

I just need to talk today.  So I’m going to talk.

I’m having a hard time squaring a few things about me, my sexuality, my kink.  I’m finding that my view of slavery and of marriage simply does not square at all.  It would have if I had managed to marry a Master. But I didn’t so I have obligations to my husband and children. And none of this squares with how I view M/s relationships at all. Hell, I tried. I figured that online – long distance – telephone only relationships were a bit more of a D/s than M/s and that would be all I could reasonably handle. I’ve failed at that too.

My inner editor is screaming for an explanation of what M/s is to me. Maybe I should say O/p instead or internal enslavement. Maybe I should just name drop – Tanos. I ran across Tanos’ website long after I was married and back then it resonated with me hard. But back then I thought my head was on straight when it’s clear now it’s never been.

This just won’t square no matter how many times I squish it.

And I do not like what I see as choices.  For all that I’ve done hunting for the elusive unseen “other” choice, I have not found it. I can’t split the difference. This is my Kobayashi Maru and I am no Kirk.

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