My House of Cards Fell.

When you work in a blue collar environment, as I do, you have to develop a certain amount of tolerance. You need a fairly tough skin, and the ability to let a lot of things go. What I’m saying is that it’s not for the faint of heart. 

I work for a small company which employs 7 men, and me. I put up with a lot of shit on a daily basis. From misogyny to ignorance, from sexual innuendo to racism, I hear it all. I generally try to ignore most of it, because I’ve learned that when you’re outnumbered, you have to pick your battles wisely. 

I let them mock and tease me for being single. I put up with their disgusting conversations about sex and women. I ignore their racial slurs and extremely foul language. I am always cranky and exhausted at the end of the day, but it’s par for the course when you have my job. I grin and bear it. 

Until today. 

Today a line was crossed, and I wasn’t able to just let it slide. I got hurt, because they hit my most sensitive nerve: fat jokes. 

My boss purchased a new table saw for the warehouse, and we were all gathered around his truck by the door as he and the guys unloaded it. “She’s a heavy fucker!”, my boss said. Without even a thought, our salesperson responded, “Hey, you shouldn’t talk about your secretary like that!”. 

I am the secretary. Well, technically I’m the office manager, but those guys can’t seem to figure that out. I was surrounded by laughing men, and I had no real choice but to laugh along with them. I was shocked, and hurt, and they could tell. They didn’t care. I turned around quickly and went back to my office, slamming the door. I wanted to cry. 

Anyone who knows me knows that I have a terrible body image. I have been berated most of my life because of my looks, and it has been psychologically damaging. When I was a teenager, I was called a “fat bitch” every day by my brothers and stepfather. I was told no man would ever love me, because I was fat. I was made to feel worthless because of the way I look. I’ve never stopped believing that. 

For the past year, I’ve been working really hard at losing weight, and yes, I have lost a fair amount, but I’ve been so discouraged lately. It’s really difficult to want something so badly, to work so hard at it, and not get the results you hoped for. 

I hoped that I would feel better. I hoped that people wouldn’t think of me as “the fat chick” anymore. I hoped that I would be taken seriously, and maybe even found attractive. That hasn’t happened. 

My friends tell me I should embrace my “curves”, and love myself because “there’s nothing wrong with a little weight on a woman”. They say it shouldn’t matter what others think, and that it’s okay to be “fluffy”. They don’t get it. I don’t WANT those kind of curves. I don’t want to be overweight, or fluffy, or plus-sized or whatever sugarcoating word they want to call it. I don’t want to be seen that way. Sure, being larger works for some people, and hey, more power to them, but I DON’T WANT TO BE THAT WAY. I literally get physically ill sometimes when I see myself in the mirror. I know it’s a strong word, but I hate myself. 

I have been working hard to change it over the past year, and at first I felt like I made real progress. I lost 40 pounds in the first 6 months. I thought to myself “Finally, I’ll start feeling like a normal person, and people will start to treat me better”. But they didn’t. I’ve been thinking that for a while, and today just confirmed it. People still see me as fat. I’m not doing as well as I thought. I’ve been in denial about the whole thing, and now I no longer know what to do about it. I feel discouraged. 

When will I feel confident? When will I not hate catching a glimpse of my reflection? When will I stop assuming that when people look at me, they’re looking at me with disgust? When will people stop making references to my weight? When will I stop hurting? 

A friend of mine told me last weekend that her husband found me attractive. I was a little surprised, until she added, “But he has always liked bigger girls, like us”. Again, I laughed, because that’s what was appropriate, but in my head (and my heart), I was crying. When will I stop being thought of as a “bigger girl”? Why can’t I just be average? Never in my life have I wanted to be average at anything, except this. 

For the rest of the day today, I felt disgusting. Every time I encountered someone, or someone came into my office, all I could think about was how fat I felt. I felt different around them. No longer confident, or comfortable. I felt defeated. 

I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s amazing how one person’s comment can outweigh (no pun intended) all the good comments made by others. I feel like the compliments and encouraging words I receive from friends are just to humour me, or placate me. I feel like maybe they’re just being polite, like you are when your kid draws you something unrecognizable and you tell them it’s awesome and put it on the fridge. 

My coworker did come in and apologize, and recognized that he had crossed the line, but the damage had been done. I let the bastards get me down, and I don’t know how to fight it anymore. I’m tired. I’ve been fighting this battle since childhood and I don’t know how much will I have left. 

I don’t want my stepfather to be right. I’m smart enough to know that the assholes aren’t supposed to know what they’re talking about, but could someone tell my heart that? It doesn’t believe it, and frankly, it just aches. I can’t fix it, and it’s killing me. 

I’m trying and working so hard, and it feels hopeless. I get told all the time that I should be trying to lose weight for the right reasons, to do it for myself, and that pisses me off. Of course I’m doing it for myself. I’m doing it so that people will stop treating me like shit, and I can stop being depressed about it. I’m doing it so that a man might finally find me attractive and I can stop being so fucking lonely. I’m doing it so that I feel confident in the clothes I wear. I’m doing it so I can go to the beach that’s 20 minutes away and not get heatstroke from keeping covered up all the time. I am doing it for myself. I’m doing it because of how people make me feel. 

But now I wonder if there’s even any point. Maybe it’s time to stop kidding myself and admit defeat. Maybe this is as good as I get. Maybe my family is right after all. 

I’m going to see them this summer. They’ll love hearing that. 

Banning Same-Sex Marriage Is Stupid.

I don’t want to get all political, because really, I don’t have that kinda time. But, I wanted to throw in my two cents here, and in Canada our two cents won’t be possible for much longer, so here I am. 

I don’t understand why anyone would want to ban gay marriage. Like, why is it a thing? Do they think that by preventing same-sex couples from marrying, they’re going to encourage them to marry the opposite sex? 

Do they think people are just wanting to get married in general, and if they’re told they can’t marry who they love, they’ll just marry whomever or whatever is available? Like, “Oh, I can’t marry my boyfriend, so I guess I’ll just marry this woman instead”? I don’t think so. 

Trust me, I’ve been married, and it SUCKS. I mean, you have all these rules you have to follow, you have to share half your stuff, you have to include someone else in all your big decisions, and you rarely have any privacy. But people get married because they love their partner so much that all that stuff is just part of being together. It’s worth it. Can you imagine if you didn’t love your partner? Why would you even bother? 

So, no, it’s not about just getting married. If you ban gay marriage, those men and women aren’t going to decide to marry the opposite sex. They’re just going to NOT get married. They’re going to keep having sex. They’re going to keep having public displays of affection with their partners. They’re going to keep having children, and they’re going to keep living together. They’re going to keep walking, talking, living, loving, and breathing amongst us. 

Banning gay marriage isn’t going to protect the sanctity of marriage. Trust me, marriage isn’t in any danger. People are still getting married every single day. They’re getting divorced, too. And then remarried. Just like babies and stray kittens, we will never run out of marriages. 

So why ban same-sex couples from getting married? It doesn’t make sense to me. What purpose does it serve? 

Let people marry who they want. We have enough hatred in the world, so why can’t we just be happy that people actually love each other? If you’re against gay marriage, don’t get gay married. It’s simple. Don’t go to a gay wedding. Don’t have gay friends (and let’s face it, if you’re against gay marriage, no homosexual person will want to be your friend anyway). Don’t attend a gay pride parade; Maybe play golf that Saturday instead. 

If the people are consenting, who marries who shouldn’t matter. There are other things that matter, like gas prices, war in the Middle East, and when Breaking Bad is coming back. I don’t understand why we’re not focusing on the more important things. 

And hey, if you’re a same-sex couple in a state that doesn’t allow you to get married, come on up to Canada. We allow everyone to get married here, and obviously we have plenty of room. 

And we know how to throw one hell of a party.

I’m pretty bummed about the death of Meow, the 39 pound cat.

 

It’s no secret that I love cats. I mean, people who don’t love cats…well, I just can’t comprehend that. I mean, sure, some cats can be annoying, but so can some people. Wait, no, so can MOST PEOPLE. 

This cat was 2 years old. He didn’t get that fat himself. Someone made him that fat and he was powerless to stop it. He was a cat. Have you seen the size of a cat’s brain? They have no capacity to say “You know, maybe I need to watch my weight, or hop on a treadmill every now and then”. 

He didn’t have the opportunity to live. He didn’t get to become healthy, and live a normal life, with love and affection. 

I know this makes me sound crazy, but shit. It’s sad. It makes me angry. Animals rely on us, because we force them to. They have no choice. Why do so many betray that trust? 

Poor Meow. He didn’t even get a chance. 

Rest in Peace, buddy. I’m sorry your humans failed you. 

Nobody will ever write a song about me.

My smile doesn’t light up a room.

I’m not pretty when I cry.

I don’t smell like honey, or vanilla, or flowers, and my scent doesn’t linger in the air when I leave.

My laugh is kind of annoying.

I ask too many questions.

The wind in my hair doesn’t make me look carefree; it just makes me look like a mess.

I’ve never danced in the moonlight.

My eyes don’t sparkle.

My lips aren’t kissable.

I’ve never invaded anyone’s thoughts to the point of distraction.

Nobody has ever wanted to call me at all hours of the night.

My words don’t touch people.

I don’t look sexy in a man’s shirt.

I’ll never be angelic, and I’ll never be a wild woman.

I’ve never changed anyone’s life in any earth-shattering way.

Nobody has ever dropped what they were doing just because they wanted to see me.

I’ve never stopped traffic, except at a crosswalk.

My voice has never moved anyone.

I’m not the girl you fall in love with. I’m not unforgettable. I’m often invisible.

And nobody will ever write a song about me.

“When I get sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead. True story.”

That’s a line from How I Met Your Mother’s Barney (played by the adorable Neil Patrick Harris), and while it was meant to make you roll your eyes and think of how ridiculous Barney is, it does have an element of truth to it.

We all get sad. Some of us get more sad than others. Whether we’re lonely, or missing someone, or we’re going through a breakup, losing a friend, a pet, a loved one, or we just inexplicably have what I call “the Sunday blues” (it’s a thing), we’ve all been down occasionally. It’s a shitty feeling. You feel pretty empty. You feel kinda lost. Some of you might even get angry, or lash out at others. Everyone is different, but it’s the same general emotion.

I get sad quite frequently, and in fact, it’s what inspired me to write this post. I’ve been through a lot in my relatively short life (I’m 28), and I have plenty of reason to be sad. And for a long time, I was. I was miserable. I don’t know how most people stood to be around me, quite frankly.

But I got tired of feeling sad. I got tired of feeling sorry for myself. I hated the feeling I had in my stomach, and the lightness in my head. I wanted it to stop. So, I learned how to cope. I learned how to distract myself so that I didn’t have time to think about how sad I was, and eventually, I just wasn’t.

I’ve been dealing with something kinda heavy these past few weeks, and I’ve been coming up with many different ways of getting through it, and I decided to share them with you. Here are my rules for beating the blues:

1. STAY OFF SOCIAL MEDIA SITES (Part 1) – This is a big one for me, and probably anyone who lives alone or feels lonely. Checking Twitter or Facebook will just remind you that everyone else is out having a life and you’re not. You may post something vague in an attempt to get attention, but everyone hates those kinds of posts and you won’t get the attention you’re looking for. Don’t do it. It’s fucking annoying. Also, checking out what your ex or love interest is doing will serve no purpose other than to make you even more miserable, so just resist the temptation all together and keep those sites closed.
2. STAY OFF SOCIAL MEDIA SITES (Part 2) - Another benefit to staying offline is that it can be good for your ego if people notice you’re gone. I’m currently taking a break from Twitter, and while I didn’t do it for attention (exactly the opposite, actually), I have received messages from multiple friends telling me they miss me and asking me if I’m okay. This made me feel extremely loved, and definitely served to cheer me up. Now, I should note, this will only work if you’re not a terrible person and are someone people might actually miss. If you do this and people are happy you’re gone, this might make you more miserable, so exercise caution and use your best judgment here, kids.
3. YOUTUBE – You guys have heard about YouTube, right? That site has pretty much something for everyone, and if you can’t find something on there to distract you or make you smile, then you need to stop reading this foolishness and seek professional help immediately. Currently, I am watching old episodes of The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson, and giggling like a madman. Maybe CraigyFerg doesn’t do it for you, but surely you can find pleasure out of watching someone falling, or a cat video or something.
4. HUG SOMETHING FURRY - Speaking of cats, you’ve all seen mine. They don’t come much furrier (or needier) than my kitty, and she’s always good for a cuddle. And, not to get sciencey on you, but studies have shown that cuddling or petting an animal can be an effective way of relieving stress or calming a person down. If you don’t have a cat or a dog, or a bunny, or a fish (I wouldn’t recommend cuddling the fish, though), then just Google baby animal pictures and cuddle your monitor and it will likely have a similar result.
5. SEX - Duh. This one is pretty self-explanatory. Don’t have someone to have sex with? Masturbate. It’s fun. You’ll like it. Unless you’re one of those people who feels guilty after masturbation, in which case, maybe just stick to Googling animal pictures.
6. CRY – For some of you, this comes after sex anyway. But yes, go ahead and cry. You want to, and there’s nobody around, so go ahead. Let it out. Punch a pillow. Scream. Sit silently while tears stream down your face. Sob. Do whatever you have to do, but don’t let it go on too long, because it will just exhaust you and you’ll feel even worse after. And for God’s sake, whatever you do, DO NOT LOOK IN A MIRROR AFTERWARDS. Nobody looks pretty after they cry, and you will only look disgusting and make yourself feel worse. In fact, just avoid any reflective surface at all for a while. Yes, that also includes posting self-portraits to Tumblr. You know who you are.
7. SING - Never underestimate the healing power of music. A friend of mine recently told me he was impressed by my ability to find a song lyric to go with every situation. I don’t know if that’s completely true, but I do love when a good line in a song really hits home. I also love to sing and dance around my apartment in my underwear, which has incredible healing qualities provided nobody looks in the window and drops dead of a heart attack. Some people like to listen to sad music when they’re sad, so they can really get good and mopey and wrist-slitty. Some people prefer to listen to upbeat, happy music to help them forget whatever is bothering them. I think I fall somewhere in the middle. Either way, whenever I’m feeling at a loss for something to do, or needing a distraction, putting on a song I know all the words to, and singing like I’m auditioning for American Idol is a good way to pull me out of the dumps.
8. EXERCISE - I know, I know, when you’re feeling mopey and gross, the last thing you want to do is put on tight clothes and work out in front of a bunch of douchebag hardbodies at the gym (apologies if you’re one of said douchebag hardbodies). So, don’t. Work out in your living room. Or go for a walk. Go to the park. Go for a swim, if you live near a body of non-polluted water. Exercise is amazing both physically AND mentally. I do yoga, and it allows me to escape real life for a while, and it comes with the added bonus of doing something beneficial for your body, too. Plus, almost everyone’s ass looks great in yoga pants.
9. AVOID COMFORT FOOD – Wait, where are you going? I’m serious! When we’re sad, it’s totally cliche to crave ice cream, or pizza, or potato chips, or whatever. We all want something that tastes delicious, and requires very little effort to acquire. Try to resist the temptation, though. It may taste good, but we all know it’s not good for you. You’ll just end up regretting eating it, waking up the next morning with Ben & Jerry on the bed next you, and you’ll have to do the walk of shame to the kitchen, likely past a mirror (which we talked about), and you will just HATE YOURSELF. It’s not worth it. Have a salad, or an apple or something.
10. READ A BOOK – But make sure it’s a really good one, because if it isn’t, your mind will wander and you’ll start thinking about all the shitty things again and before you know it, you’ll have read the same paragraph 6 times and will still have no idea what it said, and now you can’t make it out because it’s covered in wet tears. So, read a funny book (I recommend Hugh Laurie’s The Gun Seller), or an adventure book (The Hunger Games, perhaps?), and avoid anything having to do with sadness, romance, or sparkly vegetarian vampires. That last part is good advice regardless of what kind of mood you’re in.
11. TAKE A BATH – I don’t get people who say “I hate baths”. If you hate baths, you’re not doing them right. You can’t just run some water in a tub and sit in it. You need bubbles, maybe some candles, and a good book or movie to watch (if you can place a laptop within viewing distance). You don’t want to be without some sort of distraction if you’re sad, though, because then you do that pesky thinking thing again and  nobody wants that. Also, pro tip: glittery bubble bath is fun, but will definitely leave a ring of sparkles around your tub, which I’m sure is a common problem for strippers, and people like me who buy bubble bath from Lush.

These are just some of the easy things you can do to cheer yourself up without leaving your house, or even having to put on pants. I should note that I am talking about curing yourself of the regular every day blues. If you’re clinically depressed, obviously you shouldn’t be taking advice from some nobody on the internet.

If you try all these things, and they still don’t work, head on over to Favstar.FM, or Witstream, and laugh at some of the funniest tweets of the day.

If you still haven’t forgotten all your troubles and gotten happy, then just remember, you’ve come this far and you can keep on going. There are plenty of happy moments to come in your life, and this is just one day. You can get through it. And, though you may feel lonely, you are not alone. We’re all in this together.

Bookstores.

Bookstores are my version of a candy store. They’re my therapist’s office. They’re my retreat. I enter them not only in hopes of finding a new book to read, but to escape for a little while.

Bookstores aren’t like other stores. There’s no real sense of urgency, or chaos, like that of a grocery store, or a clothing store during a sale. Nobody is stressed in a bookstore. Nobody is checking their watch, or frantically racing the aisles while checking a list. Whether you’re searching out a specific book, browsing the fiction section, or just looking for a place to waste a bit of time, you’re never in a hurry in a bookstore.

This afternoon, as I wandered the aisles of my local big box bookstore, sipping from the pretentious caffeinated beverage I had purchased from the attached Starbucks, I couldn’t help but notice the people around me. They were as fascinating as the books on the shelves.

There was the man seated in a chair in the corner of the mystery section, reading, while his baby slept in the stroller next to him. I wondered if he came to the store in hopes that she would fall asleep in the quiet atmosphere, or if he came to the store because she already was asleep and he would have some time to himself to read.

There was the man in the workout gear and headphones who seemed to think he was in a gym, judging by the way he would not stop stretching and bounding around the Health & Fitness section. And I really don’t know who he was fooling wearing shorts and a t-shirt on a day when it was 17 below zero outside.

There was the woman who looked like she hadn’t had a hot meal or hot shower in weeks, who may or may not have realized she was even in a bookstore.

There was the attractive man with 2 teenage daughters who were dragging him around looking for a book on interpreting dreams. He was completely bewildered, and we made eye contact a few times, so I gave him my most supportive smile.

There was someone, somewhere, playing an accordion. I could never locate where it was coming from, but it always seemed to be just a section away.

There were the two older wealthier looking ladies, with their hair just-so, and their lipstick immaculate, speaking to each other in French as they browsed the New Releases section.

There was the morbidly obese man who smelled of cigarettes blocking the entire Photography section, which normally would annoy me, but as I said, there’s no stress in a bookstore.

There were people all around me. Couples, children, teenagers, senior citizens, and men and women my age. We may have all had different reasons for being there, but the thing we all had in common was that we were looking for a good old fashioned book to read. Paper. Pages. Something we could hold in our hands and flip through. We weren’t on computers, or smartphones, or iPads, etc. We weren’t browsing the internet. Some of us were looking to learn, some of us looking to escape, and some of us looking for help. But we were all looking for it in a book.

And the choices were endless. I could visit that store every day and every day I would find a new book I’d want to take home.

I chose 2 books to buy, but even if I hadn’t it would have been a successful trip, just for getting the chance to observe others, and feel a connection that maybe only I felt. Or, maybe not. Maybe someone on the other side of the city is at this very moment writing about me, the woman in the bookstore in the red coat.

I wonder what she thinks my story is.

A Winter Adventure

As we were drinking our quadruple lattes and eating our breakfast fajitas this morning, it occurred to my friend Amber and I that we should probably do some sort of exercise in the afternoon. The idea of getting bundled up and crunching through snow seemed perfect for a Saturday afternoon, so we headed for Irishtown Park, hoping the trails would be clear.

The ground was slippery in spots, and the wind was biting, but as long as we kept moving it wasn’t too bad. We sang loudly, and were probably heard by our fellow trail enthusiasts, and for that we apologize. We also apologize to the squirrel (chipmunk?) whose dinner we interrupted. He did join in our singing, though.

(The photos are best viewed as a slideshow)