Foundation

My grandmother played basketball when she was in high school. She also ran track and told me that running had been a part of her life all of her life. She was one of those farm kids who had the mile trek down to the mailbox. Because of this, all of her life, until the last year of her life, she had fabulous legs. She was always complimented on them.  Seriously, always. The woman was known for her great legs.

So here was the woman with great legs and her fat little granddaughter. I had fat little stubby legs that looked ugly and awkward. I hated my legs. Fat legs caused so many problems. You can't wear boots (and I always wanted to wear boots). You can't wear pantyhose or stalkings or even socks without them trying to roll down.  In general, they always look bad.

As I got older and my weight increased, I hated my legs even more. They always hurt. They always threatened to give out on me. I would fall quite often. I would trip. When I was a junior in high school, I managed to break my left leg and it still has some disfuction. Years of water retention and other issues caused even more problems. By the time I was in my mid30s, my legs were constantly swollen and full of fluid, yes, even on top of the fat.

By the way, as a side note, I would like to point out to anyone who sneers when people mention they have huge fluid retention issues that it is not always an excuse as to why they are big.  I'm sure it is for some people, but not for all of us. To be honest, I would rather deal with ten lbs of fat on my body than one lb of water. Fat is gushy and soft and easy to handle. Fluids are dense and protruding and can be very, very painful.

Anyway, when I started making lifestyle changes, I began with my legs. This was something I'd never really done before.  I'd increased my activity levels, but never focused and centered around core and legs. This time, however, it was the best option for me.

And truthfully, it's been the best thing I could do. Finding strength in my legs has made such a profound change in my life. Over the several months I have been doing this, the changes in my walking, my sitting down, my standing back up, and my getting up and down off of the floor have been so significant. Mobility increases have come at a steady but very clear pace. It's actually been very glorious.

I know I will never have my grandmother's legs. I'll never be complimented or praised on them. However, every day, I'm gaining control over how MY legs will be shaped and how they will function. It is making a complete difference in my life.

If you are someone who is in that place where you are very seriously lacking in mobility, I can tell you that if you work at it, it will come to you. Even if you have to start out with very small goals. My first goal was just to walk my driveway. Overtime, that has increased to walking it a couple of times a day or walking it and then doing stairsteps. It's been slow and it has been, at times, very painful.

However, now I can walk through the house and not be breathless. I can stand up for longer periods of time. I can do some squats and lunges. Every day, I gain more strength.

And every day, I see changes in my legs. Pockets of fluid are shrinking. Bloated areas are becoming more healthy looking. A normal leg shape is returning. It's actually fascinating to watch.

The best part though, is knowing that when I stand up, I won't be facing as much pain as I used to. I won't feel so out of control as I shuffle from point A to point B. I won't dread walking to the car or bringing in shopping bags.  I can do this with more ease and confidence than I have had in years. All because I was brave enough to take those first steps.

Bravery and Other Foreign Concepts

This isn't going to be a huge post, however, if you're interested in reading stuff by me, go here.  I entered a story story contest and this is primarily what I did today.  You have no idea how absolutely nervous this made me. It's been so long since I entered my fiction in, well, anything. For many years, I'd lost faith even in my ability to write. I credit blogging with the renewed ability to write again.

I'm also becoming more brave. Bravery isn't a concept I'm very used to. I tend to just immobilize and do nothing. Too much PTSD over the years. Lately though, I'm trying to be a braver person, even if it's just shutting my eyes and jumping. Okay, not literally. The idea of me jumping is kind of horrifying. At least for right now.

Anyway, I have no expectations about how well the story will do. I love it, but of course I would. We'll see how it does. The important thing is that I entered a contest again.

Political Blahs

Today on Facebook, someone posted that everyone already know who they're going to vote for, so what is the point of waiting until November. It's just going to piss people off and allow them to defriend people. This is a good point, actually. I think everyone has already made up their mind that they will be a donkey, an elephant, or just abstain from the whole process. Or, you know, vote for one of those minor parties that no one talks about.

I think I could really get behind a candidate if they were being honest about stuff. You know, just kind of gave honest slogans for everything.

• Vote for me because having a political position is the only way I will ever get medical insurance.
• Vote for me. I probably won't fix anything, but I won't screw up anything either. In fact, I'll just sit at my seat and make sure nothing screws up.
• Vote for me because I'm totally insure and need to be validated by lots and lots of people.
• Vote for me because with my hair, this really the only job I'll ever be able to get.
• Do you dislike that other person who has this job? Then vote for me . . . I couldn't be worse than that dude.

Those are just some general ones for any politician out there. When it comes to the president, I think there are certain other things they could promise that I could completely support.

• If you vote for me, I vow to never interrupt TV on the nights when good shows are on. 
• If you vote for me, I promise to keep all speeches under five minutes. 
• Vote for me because I'll be entertaining like Clinton but not slutty like Clinton. 
• Vote for me and I promise not to let my ego get in the way of running the country.
• If you vote for me, I promise to not embarrass the country when I go to visit other places.  

I don't really think all of this is too much to ask, especially the TV one. There is nothing that will make me loathe a politician more than if they keep interrupting the  shows I actually want to see. No one wants to see their face every week. I know people like FDR's radio program, but that was RADIO. It's not like there were tons of choices at that point.

Anyway, I know that finding a politician who is logical, rational, and interested in staying out of my business is impossible. On the rare occasion that people like this actually run for office, they usually lose because they scare too many people. Instead, we're left with a collection of bobbleheads and blowhards who all make me rather uncomfortable.

I will be so glad when this is over.

The Measure of Morality

I was talking with my best friend tonight about 1972 Olympics and how I found the terrorist attack that happened to be one of the most reprehensible things imaginable. I commented that I don't consider myself a deeply moral person, but for someone to attack something like the Olympics to be deeply base and horrible.

I guess in my own way, I am a moral person. I base my morality off of the idea that my actions and decisions shouldn't purposefully destroy the well being of others. Now, I'm not saying to be a doormat who just goes out of her way to please everyone all the time. Sometimes people can be way too demanding and sometimes you just run out of spoons.

Actually, I'm not talking about actions you would personally take to please others in any case. I'm speaking more of the instances where we could take actions that we know would cause the destruction of other people's happiness. The Munich terrorist attack is a good example of this. People went to that Olympics with hope and excitement and a want to compete and have fun. The terrorists did not have to make any effort at all to ensure this happened, all they had to do was NOT choose to be terrorists. They could have just stayed at home and grumbled in private. Instead, they actively chose to destroy other people's hope and happiness. To me, this is immoral.

There has been so much discussion about gay marriage. People debating it. People screaming about it. People eating chicken in protest of it. Sometimes I get so angry about the issue that I could just pull out my hair, especially when those who oppose gay marriage claim to be so moral.

The thing is, they are only moral by their standards. To my mind, what they are doing is imposing their ideas about life on other people and forcing everyone to conform to their values. By doing this, they are making many, many people unhappy. They want people who have found love and comfort to have to never celebrate that in the most basic and obvious way two people can do so.

In other words, people who oppose gay marriage actually oppose everyone being happy. They believe happiness is something that should be reserved for only those like them. They go beyond just believing this and try to legislate it. They actively try to make other people never be happy. As far as I am concerned, that is completely immoral.

So in your day to day life, maybe this is something you can think about. As I said, I don't think it's as important that you go out of your way to make other people happy as it is to make sure you're not going out of your way to make people UNhappy.  If you can keep quiet and hurt no one or say something and cause someone pain, just don't speak. If you can sit in your chair and hurt no one or stand up and cause someone pain, just keep sitting. Sometimes, inaction is the most moral thing you can do.

Annoyances and Fangirl Happies

I had one of those mornings where nothing went well. Just about everything fell as I was showing . . . okay, I didn't fall myself, but everything else did. Between all the picking stuff up and cursing, my shower took twice as long as it should have. Then on the way to see my best friend, we got behind every slow human in the region. For those of you who no longer live in the boondocks, consider how annoying this is on a 2 lane highway.

Wow, when I was typing boondocks, I typed boobcocks. What in hell is wrong with me?

Anyway, after all the mishaps, I ended up at my friend's house about half an hour late. Seriously wasn't my morning. The rest of the day was great though. I ate sushi and we watched Battles BC.  I absolutely love ancient battles, mostly because I'm an Alexander the Great fangirl. I romanticize his life so much. I could write pages of fanfics about him and . . . well, a lot of people.

We watched probably five hours of that and I had a completely glorious time.  The guy they got to play Alexander on his episode was quite hot, which made me deeply happy. I'm smiling just thinking about it.

Oh!  They also mentioned something that my brain must have just forced me to forget so I wouldn't obsess about it constantly. When Alexander died,  there is a rumor that he was taken to Egypt, as he was, among other titles, Pharaoh.  According to legend, he was placed in a crystal sarcophagus.  Squee! That's just so deeply thrilling.

I hope they entombed Hephastian with him.

Fluffy Clouds And Other Survival Tactics

I realize my posts have been lacking of late, but it got hot again and I've been ill. The weather is playing horrorshow on my ability to breath and sleep/think/function. I'm just going to let this ride for a while though because I know the weather will be changing soon enough, at least I hope it will. I'm still working on getting out of this depression slump. It's not been easy but I think I'm starting to see the light of day again.

Until then, I'm just trying to keep my life as fluffy as possible.  This isn't always that easy because it's not like one can completely control what is happening, but I do try. I'm also trying to blow a lot of stuff off. People quite often say stuff that makes me so angry I'll just stew about it for hours.  Right now, I'm just letting such things slide . . . this is never easy during an election year.

One of the big problems with depression is the aspect of hopelessness it brings. You get into this place where you feel like you have nothing to look forward to at all. When you feel this way, it helps to make a list of things that you want to do/see/have/experience that are going to be happening soon. And  I shall now do this for myself.

• The Sims 3: Supernatural is out today. It has new vampires, werewolves, witches, fairies, and zombies!  I want this expansion pack so badly and it will be mine . . . one way or the other.
• Cooler weather WILL be happening within the next several weeks. This means I can pull out my hoodies and live in those for the next several months. It also means we can close up the house and I don't have to play Guess The Bug That Just Crawled Through the Window.
• My best friend throws a killer Halloween party. 
• Colder weather also means the cats will get cuddly again. 
• The fans will go away for a while, which means the house will be quiet.
• All the trees will start getting their Fall colors. I love that.
  

So see, even my depressed self came up with some good reasons to find the happy.  And I know it sounds silly to do this kind of thing, but it really does work for a bit. Of course, you have to be on the somewhat upswing for it to work well . . . but we're getting there.

Cut Hands and Awkwardness

You know, there is nothing quite like the awkwardness of bleeding from your favored hand. It's like no matter how hard you try to stop the bleeding, you constantly keep moving and reopening the wound. No, that's not an analogy for anything . . . at least not in this case. I really did cut my right hand tonight.

In this case, it was a Gluttony Related Injury. I wanted some chocolate powder and the can was new. I cut myself on the 'safety' seal. Stupid sharpish metal thing. The cut is in the valley between my index finger and thumb. It hurts, but at least it has finally stopped bleeding. It probably won't leave a scar. I don't really mind scars, but my right hand already has plenty. Well, okay, it has three, but I think that is enough for a hand.

There is a scar on the top of my ring finger that has been there since I was three-ish. I tried to pick up my father's weightlifting equipment and knocked the top of my finger off. It was just kind of hanging there when I walked to my father and showed it to him. I was rushed to the hospital and given stitches. The top was saved and no harm done other than the scar and a very early memory of panic.

When I was in fourth grade, some little bastard child threw a fire ant at me. I tried to shield my face and by doing so, the ant bit into the lower knuckle of my middle finger. The scar has faded over the years, but is still visible enough to be a nice visual reminder of one of the most physically painful five seconds of my life. This is why I have a healthy fear of ants, even the little black ones.

My most recent scar is from earlier this year when we tried to do something with the cats. Rhiannon ripped up my hand in several places.  I still have scarring on the back of my hand from this, but I think it's going to fade. The scar on my thumb from the same cat protest is just about gone now. I'm glad too because I'd really rather forget that day. It was pretty scary.

Still, you know, as painful as injuries to your dominant hand can be, the worst part is the fact that it incapacitates you and just makes everything so difficult. No typing without pain. No getting your hands wet without pain . . . I don't think people realize how many times we get our hands wet every day. You certainly realize it when you have a hand wound.

Anyway, this latest cut isn't going to cause me too much trouble so I should be fine. I'm hoping by morning the sting will be gone and I can just get on with my life.