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It's been a while, Livejournal! I've been up and down the last few days. I'm busy focusing on fitness and health, but I'm also battling highs and lows in regards to the whole Fabulous situation. It's not in me to just relax and enjoy something, so I'm constantly fighting with myself trying to analyze it, and then telling myself to stop, and then panicking because of what I think up when I analyze, and then yelling at myself to just enjoy it.

Ahh, me.

But when it comes down to it, when he kisses me, I'm happy. And the fact that we can lay in bed and roll around and talk about whatever for hours makes me happy. And that he seems to value me and spending time with me and not just my body is a beautiful, wonderful thing, that again, makes me happy.

Anyway, lets talk health and fitness.

I've meal prepped all week. I cooked myself a healthy breakfast and Frank a less healthy breakfast on Tuesday, which was nice. I pack my lunches and dinners and shop every few days. I have gymmed 3 days so far this week, and will do two more before I rest on Sunday. So far psychosomatic has actually been as great as I thought it would be. The trainers are very excited to be there, supportive, and engaging. The workouts suck, but the fact that they are done in circuits allows me to get over how much each part sucks before I start the next part. I am intensely sore and therefor believe I will not see much weight loss this week. The inflamed muscles should mean water retention. But I'm not worried about it. I know I'm being healthy and that alone makes me happy with this program.


I really like this guy, Livejournal. I really, really like this guy. Things are clearly heading in a specific direction, and I'm completely down with it.

2/18 Take Two

Well, Jake ended up having to go to the ER. Vomited blood. Most terrifying moment of my entire existence. I immediately prepared myself for him to die. But, as it turns out, vomiting blood is a natural progression in dog vomiting. So he's going to be okay, though he is on 4 meds and is eating a diet of boiled beef and rice for a week.

One of the last things that Josh ever did that made me cry, happened on the day we moved him into his apartment. We were at the cable place to transfer the cable into just his name and change it to his new apartment, and the woman there went over his "new apartment" deals. He could choose to have either HBO or Showtime included free in his cable, and he says "oh yeah definitely HBO so that I can watch [this specific show] since the new season is coming out!" This is a show we would watch as a couple each season (seriously the only thing I could get him to do with me), that I actually got him into. And I was like "oh yeah that's a great idea! But we haven't watched the most recent season yet so you'll have to get caught up on that first!" And he immediately quips back with "WATCHED IT ALREADY!"

I mean, it was an emotional day for me, but I immediately left, crying, to go sob in the car, and he had to explain the situation to the woman at the desk. It was just completely rude the way he said it and also very inconsiderate. Plus he hadn't waited to watch it with me, when that's what we did. So anyway, when he's done inside, he comes out to the car and he says "I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you. I was never going to tell you I watched it whenever we watched it together," as if that would make me feel better?? I was just going to pretend to have not seen it and let you believe that we are watching it for the first time together directly translates to I was planning on lying to you.

Anyway, I bring this up, because Frank introduced me to the How to Train Your Dragon television show, which is fantastic, and we watched together. And then on Friday, the new season came out. And I was like OMG NEW SEASON, and he was like OMG I KNOW AND ITS TAKING ALL MY WILLPOWER TO NOT HAVE ALREADY WATCHED ITALL. And it blew me away. I mean, like, everything Frank does blows me away, but. We hadn't agreed to watch it together or anything like that. He just decided he would watch it with me. And I was nice and told him he could go ahead and watch it, he would just have to rewatch it with me lawl, and he says no, no, he'd rather watch it with me, he could wait.

Excuse me, what?
I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly?
You can wait? What?
Excuse me while I pick up my brains off the floor.


The me this morning is so much calmer than the me yesterday morning. Yesterday was certainly a good day. I've been reconnecting with O'Malley, and I am just so pleased to have him back in my life! I can't wait to meet his wifey and see him again :)

Today's stress: woke up to the dog inducing vomiting on himself and refusing to eat. From what I can tell, my sister had some cheesy garlic bread and Jake got to a small portion of it. It couldn't have been very much, but that stuff is loaded with garlic, and garlic is very toxic to dogs. So, he's being monitored today. By me, at least for now. If I need to take him into the vet, I will, but for now, he's okay to be observed from home.

Tonight for dinner, my last hurrah before psychosomatic is going to be a trip to the Golden Corral with Frank and Jesse. I'm very looking forward to it. But even moreso I am looking forward to psychosomatic. I'm looking forward to being in the best shape I've been in in like 4 years.


I've got some anxiety today. Post having such a shitty shitty relationship, I'm terrified of staying when I'm miserable. I know I need to get out of my head. I'm not miserable right now, and not in an outwardly type of way, but in a complete and whole kind of way I'm not miserable. But I could be. I could be made miserable.

What's the point of all of this? Why do we let people in? I prevent myself from getting hurt by shutting down and building walls. By the time I broke up with Josh, I had built up so many walls, I didn't even love him anymore (you know, if ever). I want to go into this with a plan, but there is no plan. Life doesn't stick to your plans. I could just build walls and stop everything with Frank right now. Cut the head off the dragon before it gets too big to fight. I could do that, and right now it seems like quite the safest option.

Why do I do this?

The obvious response to these anxieties is to laugh at myself. To remind myself that someone's probably going to get hurt. And it's probably going to be me. But that's the thing about these things. It's always more fun to just do them and hurt afterward.

But I'm scared.


A Reflection: (It's Long)

I first found myself, 2 and a half years ago. In the living room, with my headphones in, I sobbed for over an hour, and Josh didn't notice. He was on the computer. Same room, but facing a separate direction. I sobbed because I realized I was so much more than I had been, because I was filled with hope, and because I felt trapped. I spent the next two years in a constant back-and-forth. I would begin to work hard on improving myself and my life, and Josh would tell me he didn't think I would succeed. So I would stop trying. And I began to build this box, that I would fit myself into. This cage that I decorated, to try and talk myself into staying. And then after a few months, I'd get sick of the damned box, so I would begin to work on myself again. And Josh would tell me again he didn't think I would succeed. And I would stop trying.

When I say he would tell me he didn't think I would succeed, I'm not mincing words. I mean that very plainly, those words would exit his mouth. We would lay in bed, facing opposite directions, and I would cry. I would cry, and ask him why he never believed in me. And he would tell me it was because I never succeeded.

Every little girl dreams of attending a wedding, and slow dancing with a boy. And catching the bouquet, and having the time of her life. The first wedding we went to, I was 19, and my cousin was getting married. He refused to dance with me. Slow dance. He outright refused. I cried. We left early. Every wedding after that, he refused. He convinced me to not go to several weddings, by doing nothing but whining and complaining for the entire week leading up to it. He would run me ragged with his complaints and eventually I would give in. I'd rather not go, and experience him refusing to dance, and him simultaneously pouting about wanting to leave, than go.

When we were with friends, after about an hour, he'd get a tight-lipped smile on his face, and look at me, and look at the door, and look back at me. And that was my cue. The second he would do that, my heart would drop. I had two choices in that instance. Leave with him, or put up with his constant bothering of me to leave until I was ready to go. By the end of our relationship, I just stopped going out. It was easier than facing the thought of having to leave early or put up with his pouting.

Don't even get me started on when I discovered karaoke, and he would not even attempt to hide his contempt for being there.

It was impossible for me to go anywhere with him, without him being plugged into his phone. Even on dates, which he stopped bothering to do after like, 3 years. When we would sit on the couch together and watch a show, he was on his phone. When we were out to eat, he was on his phone. We had all important conversations over the phone. Arguments. Breakups. Eventually I retreated into the wide world of the internet, because what the hell else was I supposed to do?

My mom says I treated Josh like a child. She said to me yesterday, "I hope you are nicer to this new guy!" And I know she's right, I did treat him like a child at times. He acted like a child. I can compare him to Annabelle, who is 6, in many ways. He would pout when having to do something he didn't want to do. He was selfish. If he had to wait for something he wanted, he would make my life a living hell. Hell, he wouldn't even get me off. Or, I should say, he would, but he would pout about it. It took too long. And he didn't enjoy it, and he made it very clear that he didn't enjoy it and he only did it so that he could get sex. So the last two years we were together, I stopped asking for it. And he stopped giving it. I went an entire year with him not getting me off at all. Better that than being made to feel guilty for asking for it.

When its quiet in my head, I let myself run through the relationship, and I wonder if I even loved him? I mean, how could I? I feel like the last five years of my life at least, were spent just trying to run away. Trying to find reasons to run away, but coming back because I was afraid. Afraid of being alone, afraid I was too ugly to love. How could I love someone who hated it when I laughed? Or when I whistled, sang, danced, or hummed? Who hated pleasing me? Who didn't even know if he wanted me?

When Josh and I finally got together, it was because he gave up on his long distance relationship. It was too hard. And I was there, and throwing myself at him. I was the easy choice. And he never once denied that was why he "picked" me. That followed me the entire relationship. It ate away at me. It killed me. Three years into our relationship, he was cheating on me. Sexting a mutual friend of ours. He turned that around on me, and broke up with me. And then a few days later changed his mind. Then a year later, he didn't know if he wanted to be with me, didn't know if he wanted to move in with me. He asked me to stop talking to him for a week, so he could make up his mind. After we moved in together, our second Christmas, he decided again that he wasn't sure he wanted to be with me. So I moved out for two weeks so that he could make up his mind.

Every couple of years or so, a boy would fall for me, or want to bang me, or something, and I'd deal with his insane jealousy over it, and I would come right back to that whole he didn't even want me corner of my brain. O'Malley, Brian, Jeff, like the same record playing over and over and over. I would knock myself down and tell myself it was because I had a vagina and was around. After all, that's why Josh picked me. I would sever ties and cry over friendships lost so that he would stop being jealous and complaining. Eventually I just gave up on everything about me and hid myself from the entire world.

Thank god for GEICO. GEICO is chalk full of successful men looking to further their lives and careers, and Josh was so jealous, all the time. I suppose he had a reason to be. GEICO showed me that I can persevere and be successful. At GEICO, I laughed so hard with a man that I cried, and that night I thought to myself, I hadn't laughed like that in years, and the last time I did, Josh got pissed about it, because it annoyed him. I broke up with him a week later. But I strongly believe that GEICO introduced me to myself again, and the self confidence and self love I was able to gain through GEICO gave me the courage to leave Josh. Sure, the first, time I went back. I was afraid of being alone. But I never went back, not really. When I broke up with him again, he knew it was coming. He avoided it. I told him we needed to sit down and talk, and he told me no and went to the grocery store instead. I told him when he got back we needed to talk, and he told me no and went for a walk. When he got back from that, I told him we needed to break up and he said okay. I told him he could have the couch, and he told me I could have the dog. And we went about our day, and I later went to work.

I'm sure in the beginning, I loved him. Or I was infatuated with him. But I think after that third year, when he cheated, and we broke up. I don't think I ever approached our relationship the same way. I know that I tried. I tried to convince myself it was what I wanted. I moved in with him for that excitement. I made him food and did his laundry. I rolled over in the middle of the night so that he could fuck me. I got on top of him 95% of the time so he didn't have to do any work. But I remember changing his rotten pillow case and thinking to myself "Is this what I want to do with the rest of my life?" I remember feeling this horrible sense of dread when I first encountered that quote:

"True hell: the last day you have on earth, the person you became will meet the person you could have become."

And every time I thought about it after that. I would shove it deep down and ignore it. Until after I broke up with Josh, about a week after, I remembered the quote, and relief hit me like a train. I didn't dread my future anymore. I didn't dread not becoming who I'm meant to become anymore.

It didn't take long after the breakup for me to have that epiphany. That moment where I realized I'd been trying to shove myself in a box, and I said never again. And I mean it. I've experienced myself alone, and I'm happy with it. I know that I am strong, and driven, and fantastic, and if someone doesn't think that, then I don't need them. And if someone doesn't love me right, then I can love myself without them. I'm pleased that I've come this far, but sad when I reflect, on how long I put myself through it all.

Wanna know my biggest secret?

I brought home the fish tank to piss him off.

2/14 Again

When you're talking to your mom about the guy you're seeing and you're being totally cool about it so she has no clue how very excited you are about the whole thing.

But she definitely knows how much better whatever-this-is than your last relationship.


I copped a feel :( I don't know when it happened. Sometime in the last 12 hours on accident. It won't go away. I feel so helpless and vulnerable.

2/13 Again

So anyway, cheese aside.

I ran 10 miles in the last two days. I'm planning on getting to 17 by the end of the week. And then 18 next week, then 20 the week after. And the weekly totals are between 4 days of running. With Fabulous' schedule changes, I may be able to fit in a fifth run this week, in which case I suppose I'll aim for 20 this week, but, we will see.

Point is, I'm doing rather well at this whole running business. My diet, however, needs some serious work. At this point I think I might just go the standard, eat what I want thats good for me, kind of route. Especially since I'm letting everything take a backseat to running, I in no way feel like managing macros, and eating generally good-for-you food is probably a nice middle ground.

I love my dog. Happy Valentine's Day to him and I. I got him a few adorably pink and red dog toys. He loves them, and I love him. My heart is full this year on Valentine's Day. It's full of love, and happiness, and freedom, and it's just so fucking wonderful. After 9 Valentine's Days with a man who refused to celebrate me as much as I would celebrate him, to just not have to dwell on that is such a magical feeling.


All the cheese. I love the cheese!!

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