Broken And Stuffed

I want so much to be whole.
I feel so fractured.
I feel so broken apart and jammed in to a box.
Not my box.
Just a box.

I don't know what to do with the abandoned part of me.
It is so real.
But I don't enjoy living there.
I want to be free from it.

But I feel so stuck.
Like I don't know how to move pat it.
Like I have no other point of reference.

But I do have other points to refer to.
So long ago.

In Which I Box

I want to learn a new sport.
I want to take up boxing.
I was watching a Biggest Loser episode in my flu-induced haze today.
I really wanted to punch something.
Jenn (Season11, Episode2) was "working it out" and I just sobbed.
Maybe I should ask for a punching bag for my birthday.
Maybe I should scour Craigslist.
Maybe I should just go upstairs and work on my canvas.
But brain exercises and markers are no match for punching.
Seriously.
What is with me???
Some days I am angry and have no reason why.
Others, like today, I just feel stuck and frustrated and want to punch something.
Never someone. Just something.
I guess that is something positive to remember.

Weaning 1.2

Yesterday he only nursed once. After his afternoon nap.
Today at 4:30 at my suggestion because he was just so cranky. But he never asked.
And before bed. But he was soon done and running to join the book reading on the other couch.

Biggest Loser

I never thought I'd say it.
I am not a candidate for my own health reasons.
But I - right now - would like to go on biggest loser.
The untaped version.
I don't care about the Show part.
I just want the unhindered chance to yell and grunt and dig out all this junk and lose this weight.
Today, that sounds kind of nice.
Tomorrow? Maybe not so much.
But, today? Yes.
Thank you.

p.s. Thanks for asking. I choose Jillian. She's more bullheaded than I.

New Steps

I've never been here before.
I don't really feel rejected.
Maybe I felt it coming.
I now it is normal. I just did not expect it yet.

But truly, I am okay with.
I want to move on.
I need time to move on.
I need time to change gears.

So, BabyBoyBlue, I love you.
You may stop breastfeeding.
It is your choice.
I will always leave it up to you.

New Years Day, he chose to go to bed without nursing.
Jan2, he chose a nap without nursing.
He still came in the morning and after nap.

Untitled 1.2

My problem.
I have this huge fear. Of losing weight.
The same weight I sigh and lug around every day.
It makes no sense to me. But they got it, so whatever.

What do I fear?
I fear it will make me very vulnerable.
It has something to do with my scar. Beyond that, I don't know.
I am scared.
Terrified in fact.

Repost

Changes in my brain. I have had tons of probems trying to talk. Either the totally wrong word come out or nothing at all. Both are frustrating. But even bigger, they are very tiring. At my worst in the last year, an hour converstion would absolutely wipe me out. Even though during that hour I did far less than half the talking, and lots of single syllable words. It was that much work to think. That same difficulty carried over into other things. Like Typing. And sewing. And reading. And cooking. And some days I could hardly walk. My foot or feet would drag and I tripped on nothing. I am to the place that I can sew, but I am pretty slow. And wear out pretty quickly. I can type fairly well. Please don't judge ANYTHING I send right now bc we have an ad on keyboard and it is hard to type on. But I donthave the problem of typing everything one letter off like I did. I have been working on cooking. Reading is a loong way off. Depending on how tired I am, I can read a paragraph to several pages till the words just become letters that swim on a page. My comprehension goes to zero. In fact some days the words truly become letters. When I am tired or stressed, I feel like I have a glass wall in my head. Imagine being in a store with glass walls to the outside. If you walk into the glass at a "tearing up jack speed", you would probably bouce backward. And be in pain. But if you want to go out you have to go through that wall so you try again. And again. Till you find the door or break the glass. That is how my brain physically feels. Like I hit a glass wall (don't see it coming), bounce back and have to keep trying. I could give up but that means I would be stuck with whatever I was doing. This happens most when I am trying to articulate and problem solve. I rarely have the anxiety attacks with it anymore, but getting through requires pateince from the people around me. The physical translation of all this is: when you experience PTSD, your brain literally fries a curcuit. Or 2 or 12. When you are trying to move forward and heal, that glass wall is connections trying to go through the old pathways. Getting up and trying again is how your brain build new pathways around the dead/injured part of your brain. Some days I wish I could take my brain out and watch t work. It is so painful in very specific spot. I wonder what it looks like. All of this has gotten so much better. But I still have a ways to go. Reading my Bible is almost impossible. I see the print of the page behind showing through and it registers as "words" although obviously you cant really read it. I feel like someone is stirring my brain with a spoon - as Lynnelle puts it. I finaly found a bible that has a bit thicker paper but you can still seee through them and it is hard beyond words. Plus the format is so busy. I just cant assimilate it. I have one bok I can read the best of any. It is good sized font and most pages have a fair amount of spacing. That book has become my go-to book when I want to read. Thank God it is interesting and useful info. It is about how to use common herbs medicinally. From a very practical and commonsense standpoint. :) Probably the worst part of all this is how it affects my kids. That is what has made the last year so hard. I could not think to do what was most basic much less take care of my children. Now it is still lingering in the disclipline realm. It is hard to know when the boys are just being bad or if they are pushing bc I am not on top of my game.