quick update and then on the real shit

Today I had my second session with my new therapist and it was horrible so I just want to give a quick update before I move onto why today was so bad/hard for me.

Two weeks ago I had my first appointment with my new therapist Joan. This was the result of my partner DEMANDING that I do something about how bad I've been feeling. First thing we did was call our "employee assistant program" and after answering several VERY personal questions I was told that my problems were WAY to serious for what they were offering and I needed at least a year of intense therapy and not the 5 visits they could give me:((
So I have my first session with Joan and it goes pretty well. I give her a basic overview of the anixioty I am going thru and we talk about how I have a hystory of dipression but not a history of anixioty and this new emotion isnt working for me.
After alot of talking I realize that my biggist problem is "the GYM" (have ALOT of "rules" for my trainer at the gym". So Joan suggest that I pick one of the "rules" that I have at the gym and work on getting past this "one rule at a time".
So I go back to my trainer and repeat this saying "Can you please stop my "no touching" rule" and help me get over this? He was fine with it and we agreed we would work on this one thing at at time.

follow up

it's been about 8 hours since my last post and I've stopped crying but I'm sure that isn't going to last thru the end of this post.

I've reread the post a couple of times during the day and I know I should be embarrassed by it but I'm not and in fact I somewhat proud of it. I've noticed a trend in my last few post and that trend is: they are getting more and more honest. More real. They don't hurt any less and if possible im actually hurting more but it would seem that I have to hit bottom before I can crawl to God and beg him to help me become whole again.

437andtired or 237andscared? CHOOSE!!!

I left the gym crying my eyes out again today. I had a great workout in the since of I was sweating my ass off and did a fairly hard workout but all that kept going thru my head is I'm a loser, I'm nothing but trash and I'm never going to be anything but a loser. It doesn't matter if I'm fat or not I'm still a loser. I try SO hard at the gym and we still keep coming across things that I just cant get right. Today we were doing some sort of "clean and press" and my trainer was being so nice about it but I just couldn't get it and right away I just kicked into "your a loser" mode and it ruined the rest of my workout. I'm so afraid he's going to see me for what I really am and fire me just like the last trainer. I had dinner last night with my trainer and his wife (at my suggestion) and I (as always) had such a great time with them. They have such a calming and nurturing affect on me. I really love spending time with them but I also know this relationship can't work out, so why do I keep setting myself up for the hurt that is going to come. I really do believe that God has brought them into my life for a reason but I'm so afraid that the reason is going to be something bad. Something to remind me that I'm not supposed to trust people and love people because I'm not worthy of that. Or that I'm a horrible sinner and until I stop sinning I will never be happy.

I don't understand how the harder I work to have a better body the harder my mind works against me. It seems like I am going to have to choose - 437andtired, or 237andscared?

I'm really wondering if the changes I've been trying to make in my life are not a huge mistake. I decided a while back to try and have more "real" relationships and not "superficial" ones so I have told 3 of my straight male friends (my 2 trainers and 1 actual friend) about my past. EVERYTHING!!! And I even went for drinks with a male client who had been trying to get me to do something social with him for years. The purpose was, I was afraid that God was bringing people into my life to help me and I was "denying" them thous denying God a chance to help me. Well now 3 people know my story and I feel even more afraid and vulnerable.

The light at the end of the tunnel for now is that I do have an apt with a therapist this coming week and I am feeling very hopeful about that.

ManOpause

I have been an emotional mess lately. I've been having anxiety attacks at the gym for several months now and the last few weeks I've started having them in my normal everyday life also. I've also had a few "crying" fits (thank the lord only when I'm home and only when I'm alone). Although when I try and talk to my partner about this I ALWAYS start crying again and then feel horrible guilty.

Just over a month ago I was out on a run and hurt my foot. I've been to the Dr twice, got an xray and seen a PT. My medical "team" has pulled me off of all cardio and not only am I going stir crazy I also now realize just how much I used my treadmill runs as therapy. I am not a fan of outside running but i LOVE getting on the treadmill, putting headphones in and just going until I'm dead. I can really process alot of my "shit" there.

It's strange and somewhat funny that the gym is the place where I feel the most "unsafe" and "crazy" when I'm being pushed by my trainer and then the next day feel amazing on the treadmill.

I can't get a true feeling of being "safe" on outside runs but on the treadmill where I can see everyone around me and with my headphones in no one trys to talk to me. It's very "controlled" and I LOVE IT.

Since my foot has me on the sidelines I haven't found a new way to process my crap. I've been drinking ALOT and when I'm under the influence my emotions get even more carried away.

I've been having lots of nightmares again. Same shit as always, someone is chasing me trying to kill me. There's always a lot of blood and drama. Although I will say that I don't seemed to be waking up stressed out like I normally do when I have these rounds of nightmares.

I'm on vacation all this week and my only goal was to get an apt scheduled with a therapist. So that is what I'm going to do tomorrow. I've put it off as long as I can. I really dread therapy because of all the shit it stirs up from my past but I am SO tired of not being at peace.

I am so afraid I'm going to get fat again and I'm wondering if that isn't at some level what I actually want? My new body just does't match my self esteem or my self worth. Back when I weighed 437 I could look at myself in the mirror and see that I was a disgusting on the outside as I was on the inside. Even though I still don't believe people when I say "you look so amazing" and when I look in mirror I still see disgusting but it's a different kind of disgusting:(

tomorrow is D~Day

So tomorrow I'm meeting my new trainer for a "talk". He ask me to meet him before out next workout session. That can only mean one of two things: he is going to "let me go" and wants to do it asap.

I would completely understand!!! From the bottom of my heart I think this guy might just be to nice and my "damage" might just be to much for him. For me to think that my "shit" would bring someone else down is way to much to ask. The biggest thing I HATE about sharing my story is when people say "It's amazing you have survived to even be here"!! All that says to me is they don't understand what I've been thru and they think I should be dead.

When your 5 and someone is raping you, you really don't get the option to say "STOP, I don't want this so let me check out". Or when your 18 and a group of 5 guys are holding you down, ripping off your cloths and holding a knife to your throat you don't really think about saying "STOP, I don't want this so let me check out"! Not surviving is not an option and that SUX. But here we are, I'm 44 and I have survived and I now have no choice but to deal with it.

I'm hoping that he wants to get together so we can figure out a "plan" on how he can help me be a better/stronger person.

I'm holding out that there is a chance that God has sent him to me and he is GOING to help me be a stronger person. A person who can stop living in fear......

to nurture or to be nurtured?

In my salon I have a reputation for always having the criers. There is always a box to tissues at my station. It's not because I make them cry over what I've done to their hair but instead it's because they sit in my chair and feel comfortable enough to spill their guts (just in the last two weeks I've had two clients tell me their husbands are cheating and they are thinking about divorce). I'm a great listener and will hug when forced. lol

I LOVE it that people are able to open up to me (is that because they know I'm more damaged than they are so it's safe?), but what happens when I want to open up to someone?

I LOVE my husband and he really is the answer to my dreams (he makes me feel secure and safe).

But he is not a listener or a nurturer. He admits this right up front:)

NONE of my friends know my "story". The only person outside of my parents and my partner who I have shared my store with is my trainer. I'm starting to wonder if that is such a good ideal? I want to be able to talk about my crap with it's on my mind but I need to decide is that need more important that my privacy. My friends think of me as the person to come to when they have problems NOT as the person who has the freaky past. I DON'T want to be known by my past yet I admit I am being held prisoner by my past.

a bunch of nothing

I'm just going to start typing and see what happens and THEN I will decide the "title" of this post.

First I want to talk about the guy I had "picked" up at the bar and was walking home with when we got jumped by the "bashers". I think there's a reason i can't remember his name! I am able to escape the guys who are trying to "do me harm" and get home to Michael. He takes me to the ER (we tell them I fell down the stairs) and I spend a couple of days in the hospital with broken ribs and lots of bruises. I refuse to tell the police what really happened (because somehow I'm sure it's really my own fault).

Well to sum it up the guy I was bringing home from the bar ended up breaking into our house and stealing a bunch of stuff. I refuse to press charges but Michael does press charges and the guy gets arrested. He gets out and actually breaks into our house again!!!!!

The investigating cop actually calls my parents and tells them I really need help and ask them to come to Phoenix.

My mom actually shows up one day and tells me she here to take me home. I actually feel "loved and relieved" and pack up and go with her. On the way home she then tells me that what I'm going thru is God's punishment for being Gay and if I don't get my shit together I am for sure going to HELL!!!

I remember setting in the back seat of the car for the two day drive just not understanding how God could be punishing me but not Wayne or Randy?