Medication

Place this thin vail over my eyes
Cloak my body in an imaginary Shell
I’m no longer screaming inside
No longer living my own personal hell

I have no dissatisfaction boiling up inside me
No more urges to get in the car and go
Red is not the only color that I can see
Anxst is not the only emotion I seem to know

The buffer between me and the world is wide
Non of my nerves seem bothered at all
I feel very calm and peaceful inside
Times has suddenly slowed to a crawl

I notice all the little birds chirping away
They make me wish I could speak bird
A butterfly tried to get me outside to play
I wished the flap of its wings could be heard

Should I be frightened that this is not me
Should I accept this as the new me I’ve become
Before the medication I felt so empty
Always wanting to just take off and run

Now I’m completely happy all of the time
Content with anything I’m may be doing
You ask me how I am, I say “I’m just fine”
I no longer feel pressures looming

Everything just rolls away from me
Instead of rolling over my head
I’m thankful to be able to be happy
I no longer think I’d be better off dead

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Fat That’s Phat

This morning was a typical morning for me, in that I woke up and started working out. Lately I’ve been watching a show called “My 600lb life” during my workouts. I find the show almost inspiring to Keep moving my ass and not let myself ever get morbidly obese again.  I feel so bad for the people being interviewed and I know how easy it is to turn to food when we are going through hard times. You see the over weight people in their normal day. They are usually eating way to much and barely able to move. You want to take all the food from them and yell at whom ever the  enabler is that’s feeding them to “knock it off! It’s a hard show to watch.  

You see them lose weight and start to live again. You see their faces light up when they start to be able to do normal tasks most humans find basic, like using the bathroom.  I remember after losing my weight, feeing like, I can say “yes” to going to the beach because I can make it up and down the hillside or not being afraid to go to an amusement park because I may not fit on the ride again.  

One woman talked about being the largest person in a store and how embarrassing that was for her. How people would stare at her. I remember thinking those exact same things. I remember being at Bunko and thinking, ” I am the fattest woman here”. Or feeling like everyone was judging what I ate or what I was buying from the grocery store, because of my weight.  

Today when I turned the tv on there was a new channel (new to me), called “vice”.  They were playing a show about “feeder and feedies”. These are people who get off sexually from either being fed or feeding someone. This particular show was about one couple and she was the feedie. She was beautiful and big. Just reaching 300lbs and proud of it.  Her boyfriend (who was quite good looking) was a normal size man; gets off on feeding her food. He would rub her large belly as she ate and it turned him on. She was excited by her belly. She loved to rub it too.  She had a New Years resolution to get to 400lbs by the end of the year and eat a King Kong pizza in one sitting.  

I was floored as I watched her rub her own belly, expressing how proud she was of it.  I was happy for her that she loved her size and was happily eating her way to the larger size she longs for but I wondered to myself, “when will it stop? When will she be happy with her larger size?  Will she be able to stop eating as much? Or will her stomach be so big that she has to keep eating and eating (like the people in the “600lb” show do, just to feel full)?  When is enough, enough?” 

My mind was spinning from the two  extremes. I would rather us all be happy with ourselves and our lives and so I found the woman who was a feedie quite refreshing and a bit amazing because she is so the opposite of most woman I know who are constantly trying to lose weight.Wouldn’t  it be nice to eat whatever we want to and love our size no matter how big?  But, I know from personal experience what it’s like to carry around 350+ pounds everywhere you go, it’s draining.  I can’t imagine what 500 or 600 feels like? And as much fun as this woman is having right now, I have to wonder that at some point she’s going to start to feel the drain of Her weight on her bones and wish she maybe hadn’t been so motivated to gain weight.  When will she think she’s maybe too fat and not just phat? 

Just another phat day in LoLa-Land

FacadeĀ 

Take care with me
I put up a good front
Hardness is what you see
But, Life is more than I can brunt

I want you to think I’m good
Nothing anyone does effects me
I can handle more than I should
I’m that strong woman you want me to be

This isin’t who I am at all
Deep down I’m really just a mess
You see me standing tall
Who I am is not who you witness 

I’m twisted up and nervous inside
Like a little girl playing with her hair
Wondering how long she can hide
The pain she has from those who care

My heart skips a beat more then it used to
I can’t seem to get a deep enough breath
I wander the halls wondering what to do
Because really I’m scared to death

Power of Touch

Every time I go see a friend in the hospital all I want to do is get into bed with them. When crystal was in the hospital I wanted to lay next to her so bad but she had tubes coming out of her everywhere and I didn’t want to stop anything from working.  Also, as close as we are, we have never been real touchy feely with one another. So, I wasn’t sure how she would feel with me laying next to her. 

When my friends mom was recently in the hospital dying of cancer.  I kept sitting on her bed rather then on one of the chairs next to her; because, the  chairs made it hard for me to touch her. I needed to touch her the entire time I was with her. She didn’t mind. She would curl up her leg to make room for me.  She reached out for my hand during our last visit where she was still cognitive.  

Now Managment is in the hospital again and all I want is to be in the bed with him.  I know he likes it because he makes room for me and then motions for me to climb in. I feel entirely too far away from him when I am just sitting on the chair next to him. I want my feet on his and my head on his shoulder and my hand protecting his heart.  

It all makes perfect sense to me. We all need human contact and I don’t think we get enough of it.  Hospitals have the “baby holders”, older people who come in and volunteer their time by holding the sick babies (when they can). Because research has proven that babies who are held or have human contact, while in traumatic states, heal faster then those who are left untouched.  

I would suspect the same to be true at any age.  Nothing is better then love when it comes to healing ourselves, right?Knowing that we aren’t alone. Knowing that we are still lovable enough to be touched. Feeling the energy that another person exudes. These are important things when we feel broken and vulnerable. I know when I’m very sick. I usually don’t want company because I’m embarrassed. But, when a loved one does something so simple as rub my neck or sets a cold towel on my forehead, I feel better instantly. I think touch is so important because it’s more then what we see or feel on a physical level. More than we can even comprehend.  But, all we really need to know is, it has healing powers. 

His Wife?

The male nurse came into the room and said, “your wife asked me if I could come see you; what’s up?” 

“What?!” Managment and I both said in unison.  

“You asked me to come in here, right?” the nurse asked, while Looking straight at me. 

“Yes” I responded, “he’s not feeling well”.  Referring to my old friend Managment. I was laying next to his swollen (and not in a good way) body on the hospital bed. 

It was kind of funny. We could tell people were not used to seeing two people laying together in the hospital beds. Because as each nurse, orderly, janitor or Doctor came in they would all get a look of surprise to find me in bed with him. (Nothing sexual at all. I was fully dressed). For some reason it just felt right to lay with him. 

Even though we have spent many moons together.  At this point in our lives, we are not a couple, we are just friends. In fact we met up again after 20 year break while we were both married to other people; but, separated and soon to be divorced.  So, to hear this man call me managments wife, kind of tripped us both out. But, made us both smile very big and laugh a little. 

I can’t speak for management but I was flattered someone saw the closeness in us and thought we were married. I then thought to myself, ” at this point in my life if I were to marry anyone it would likely be him”.  I feel this way because he’s one of my best friends and I have such a great time with him.  But, that’s just not where we are and has never really  been on the table for us.  I guess I’m still tripping on it because I haven’t been anyone’s wife in 4 or 5 years and I have grown very accustomed to the title “LoLa single woman”.  Oh well, he and I know the truth.  

It’s just another hospital visit in LoLa-Land

Ripping At The Seams

Where am I in all of this
It’s the changing of the guards
Being normal is what I miss
Why does it have to be so damn hard

I have no control it seems
None in my life or within myself
I am ripping at my own seams
Someone please give me some help

I try so hard to stay centered
Present for all the day has to bring
It’s a state not easily entered
Even harder to maintain within my being

I could cry at the drop of a hat
I can get angry just as quick
I have no buffer to deal with any crap
If I had alcohol I’d take a sip

I try not to let all of my emotions out
I try even harder not to quit my job and move
I usually don’t know what my own dramas about
All I know is that I’m simply not in the mood

My body is just the puppet for the hormones
My emotions a toy thing for which to play
As I look forward to a low sex drive and brittle bones
I will try to stay positive as I basically decay

Coloring Project – The Frog

Frog

2010 Summer Reading List

Sookie Stackhouse, the complete stories A touch of Dead
Finger Prints & Facelifts
His First Wife, Gracce Octavia
The promise of happiness, Justin Cratwright
Silk & Shadows
Wifey
The Honey Thief
The marriage
Ya ya Sisterhood book # 3
The Other Boleyn Girl
Wishful Drinking, Carrie Fisher
3 book flower series by Nora Roberts
The Kept woman
Twlight book # 4
twlight book #3

Coloring Project – The Swan