I hear this every time I tell someone that I'm choosing to eat clean, be healthier, go "on a diet".

And usually these words are said with a tone of disgust, in which I feel like I'm really hearing, "You skinny minny, you gained five pounds and are crying over it. Give me a break."

They are true. I am "skinny" and I have "gained five pounds" and, in a sense, I am "crying over it". So I grant your "give me a break" by no longer confiding in you during the times I need to make this change.

But before you go thinking that I'm just vain, that I'm high maintenance, or that I'm judging why you're not watching your health as much as I am, let me tell you my side of this story.

I am 5' 3"....which is actually an estimation considering I'm really 5' 2.75"

I live my life based on HOW I FEEL.

Yes, I will weigh myself once or twice a week. If I'm counting calories or am trying to lose a pound or two due to a week of mindless bingeing, I'll check that scale every darn day until I'm back in the black.

I allow myself a five pound range. I can feel when I'm at the lower end of that range and I can feel when I'm at the higher end of that range. And, let's get real, my pants talk too. They know where I'm at on that range as well.

The problem I have is that I love food. Like, I really love food. To which people will look me up and down and think that I'm lying when I say that, like I only love healthy foods or something. I'd love to introduce you to my two girlfriends who have gone out to the Cheesecake Factory with me many times and watched as I've eaten a whole appetizer (fried mac and cheese is my LIFE), entree (mostly a cheeseburger with sweet potato fries and a side of ranch), AND a whole slice of cheesecake (Adam's PB cup fudge ripple cheesecake, to be exact). Have you been to the Cheesecake Factory? Have you seen their servings?

Should I be ashamed to admit that I've eaten that much, in one sitting, to you?

To which ties into the other problem I have and that is that I lack self control. Especially during social events or times of stress or times when I'm bored out of my mind and I just want something to eat to give me comfort and companionship.

And no, I don't munch on kale chips or carrot sticks or apple slices to bide my time. I munch on cookies, crackers, candy, breads, anything that is made of sugar and carbs.

I also work out. I have oftentimes told people that the only reason I work out is so I can eat as much as I do and, other than working out being my therapy, that statement is absolutely true. Because food too, is my therapy.

I do have to say, that I will have seasons in my life where I will skip out on the junk food, ignore the candy aisle at the store, forget that there's such a thing as chocolate ice cream and the infinity creative toppings that can go with it.

And these seasons happen when I choose to be strict with myself. I love when I'm strict with myself just as much as I love when I allow myself to run amok at the closest frozen yogurt joint.

There is a near war that goes on in my mind before finally surrendering to this strict, lifestyle change. Because why do I want to eat whole foods when unhealthy foods fill my belly with such satisfaction, make me happy, and bring me relief?

But I've found there's so much freedom in the restriction. I know what I can eat and I can trust it won't make me feel like crap come morning.

Crap. Yes, metaphorically, of course. Lately I've been feeling quite a bit like crap in the mornings. Or quite a lot like crap in the mornings.

I get up, take some caffeine and start my day with a work out. I eat really well come about 1pm when my real appetite kicks in and I'm stuffing Keebler's Chocolate Lovers cookies down my throat while chugging chocolate milk as a dessert to my Club Lulu from Jimmy Johns.

While I've been blessed to be able to have an appetite and not gain weight too considerably fast, I do gain and then I have the worst time trying to break through those dreaded plateaus.

But the number one reason I choose to be healthy, to make this strict lifestyle change in hopes that I'll remain strict for a while (while knowing that I'm human, a food addict, and tend to slowly be back to my old way in a year or two) is because I'm hypoglycemic.

I can FEEL when my blood sugar is out of control. I can FEEL when it's low and when it's high.

Unhealthy eating, the way I prefer to eat, upsets my blood sugar. It drops far too often, far too quickly or suddenly a binge on sugar cookies will send it so high I could swear I feel the sugar slugging through my veins.

Whether my blood sugar is too high or too low, one thing is certain: My life comes to a halt. I lay in bed for hours, waiting for my blood sugar to lower, or because my blood sugar took such a nose dive, my body is weak.

"Oh, Ladee," I've been told, "Maybe you should see a doctor and see if you can get some medication for that."

WHY? So I can continue eating garbage?

NO. How about I kick my butt in gear, eat clean, and have that be my medication? Will I lose weight? More than likely. But for some reason, losing weight isn't ok, especially when you're as "skinny" as I am.

People need to understand that your health is never solely based on your size.

Just as one size will never be prettier than the other, one size isn't a guarantee to be healthier than the other.

I am choosing this lifestyle change as a reset to my body. This diet is extremely strict, but only for 4-6 weeks (depending on how I FEEL) and then afterwards it's just maintenance. My blood sugar throughout this diet is perfect. I never have any issues while on it. And once I'm off the diet the issues I have are rare, as long as I keep my intake in check. If I'm eating healthy, I can go a meal or two a week eating pure junk and my blood sugar will level itself out on its own.

But the constant abuse and then my body surrenders and can't function like the well-oiled, God-made machinery like it should.

So to those ladies that gained five pounds and are "crying about it", I'm here for you. Because we understand how those measly five pounds make us feel. If we feel awesome at a certain weight, then it shouldn't matter what any outside source says. And as long as we're going about it in a healthy manner, then it really shouldn't matter what anyone says.

And to those that say, "But you don't need to go on a diet", please understand the reasoning behind the person choosing their diet.

While I know, firsthand, about terrible dieting, and obsessing over weight, unless you are certain someone is leading a very dangerous, eating-disorder lifestyle, please, be supportive. Please do not try to sabotage their diet either. It's better to understand it and see if they have "cheat meals" before delivering a pound cake or taking them to a burger joint where there's nothing on the menu they can order and they're left feeling so stuck they either cave (which is painful) or end up drinking ice water while they watch you eat (which is painful too).

Because we all know that dieting isn't easy. And one day you may find yourself on the flip side and will hope that your friends will be of a support to you.

We all have that one night where we get no sleep. How it affects your day. How it changes your mood. How it affects the way you eat and what you consume (copious amounts of caffeine, much?).

I'm used to a day, here or there, of no sleep. That's the problem with being a thinker, and over thinking things, even the smallest things that no matter how many times I think it over and over again that it won't change the past, present, or future. A sad reality that has taken me years to accept. 

But it still doesn't stop my mind from the intense wandering until 30 minutes before my alarm clock goes off, to which it shuts down and I finally find dreamland. 

How unfair and cruel my mind can be.

I'm also used to having a couple days, in a row, of no sleep, thanks to said mind.

But after the third day of no sleep, my anxiety kicks in. I am more startled, I have a harder time falling asleep due to this startling. Any sound has my heart racing and putting me back at square one in my feeble attempts at rest. I am also restless and uneasy, wired and dizzy.

In this video (made yesterday, Friday, April 24) I had gone four nights without sleep. A whole 96 hours awake with only 12 hours of sleep. I tried sleeping in when I could. I really tried napping. And I wasn't successful. 

I had fallen into a deep sleep about an hour before I had to get ready for a dental visit. I wanted so bad to stay in bed. But I couldn't. This was a special dental visit that had to be made on this day, at this time. 

So come watch as I ramble on and on about more-or-less nothing, as you take a car ride with me to find a new dentist office in the middle of nowhere, so much so that my GPS couldn't even find it.

P.S. I finally got some sleep last night. I went to bed and DIDN'T MOVE until my alarm went off this morning. My head hit the pillow and within minutes, I was out. It was glorious. 

Yesterday I went to the store to grab some groceries.

Right out of the blue I get this thought to buy this:

(source--thank you!)

I have a history with this dessert. We go way back. And even though I am the world's biggest Reese's fan, so much so that I am confident the only reason this company remains in business because of me, you're welcome, I don't have the happiest of memories with this dessert.

I'm going to take a wild guess that this product came out around 2005 because that's when this girl was introduced to it and once it was brought to my attention that I could pretty much have an 8x8inch sized peanut butter cup, I shelled out money right and left that was budgeted for the gas bill to get me some...the struggle was so real.

Alas, the fault is not Reese's. Nor Betty Crocker.

The fault is mine because, well, momma over here couldn't get enough of this dessert and ate it on the regular right around the time that I got pregnant with my second child, and therefore this go-to addiction came along with me as I entered into my season of nausea.

Then one day, nearly going bankrupt buying my 187th box of this delicious treat in a little over three months, I finished the prolonged task of making it and then took a bite.

And it tasted....gross.

It tasted like how I had been feeling every morning I woke up after eating nearly a whole pan of this dessert. It tasted like how I felt the moment before I ran to the toilet, in hopes I bend over it in time. This was when Mr Hunter's lack of skill in putting down the toilet seat was a godsend.

It tasted like misery. It tasted like my head leaning against the wall that the toilet sat next to as I slowly counted to ten to calm my squeezing stomach. It tasted like the tissue I would use to blow my nose to rid it of the acidic burn. It tasted like the spiked water that I sipped on after everything was said and done.

And so I didn't buy it again. For years.

Every time I look at this delicious dessert, I can taste the misery and the nausea and the dull ache in my head and stomach.

I keep a box around, sitting by the bed, as nothing could possibly make a better birth control reminder than that.

Ok, I'm totally kidding.

But it is a good idea now that I'm thinking about it. ;)

Well, back to yesterday, I was at the store when I get this feeling to buy it. I knew I wouldn't be eating it but I remember thinking, "This would be a fun activity for Girl Bunny and Boy Lyon to do, as it is no bake and they have been wanting to help me more with cooking and baking."

I walk up to get it and while the flooding memories and feelings come back, I grab the box when I think, "But this isn't the most healthy treat...and we are trying to be more health conscious as a family...I wouldn't be setting a good example...." and so I put it back.

I get home from the store when Girl Bunny asks if she could invite her friend over to spend the night. And not only could this girl spend the night, but it was also the night before her birthday.
This girl is probably the easiest person to please. She just blends in with the family, becomes one of our own, I never have to worry about her, it's like she's my own child when she's here.

But every time she comes over, I get her and Girl Bunny a treat or, an activity to do.....

........annnnnnnnnnnnd that is exactly what this Reese's No Bake dessert is.

And here is when I started kicking myself.

Sometimes we get thoughts, or feelings, to do/say things, and while mine was extremely trivial and even silly, as you might consider it, we mustn't let reason tell it "no".
Sometimes a thought is planted in our minds, "Hey, why don't you buy that so Girl Bunny and Boy Lyon could do this..." when the real reason for the purchase of the item was so that I could have a treat and activity for the friend coming over.

I have found that when I feel prompted to do something, the reason I do it is completely different from the outcome.

Needless to say, Mr Hunter made a special trip to the store that evening.

And I made a special reminder to myself to quit second guessing and letting reason snuff the silly promptings I get.

Call it being stubborn, or stupid, but I don't like going and getting my hair cut professionally.

There's some language barrier, I'm certain of it, when I go to get my hair cut and it doesn't matter if I'm paying $13 at Supercuts, or $40 to a woman named Teri who works at the mall and has a reputation of knowing and executing the exact cut you ask for. I will always hear, "Oh, you can't have long hair with short layers" or "Whaaaat? I don't know what you mean. So you want your hair short, right? No, long?"

Side note: Am I the only one who cries at the thought of spending $40 on your hair?

The past two times I've had someone else cut my hair, I ended up wearing it for a day to see if I'll get used to it, only to end up cutting it myself until it finally looks how I want. So why in heavens name am I paying someone?

I want long hair, with short layers. I need the short layers as Momma is getting old and showing her age and dang it, hair that is lying flat against my head because it's too heavy to lift with product (read: I refuse to tease my hair) will add all the wrong drama to my face. But I want length too. I can't do short hair. Never have been able to. Every time I cut my hair short I looked and felt ugly, to which I'd grow it out, see a friend with an incredibly adorable bob, cut my hair again, hate it, grow it out again, watch The Real World on MTV, copy a main character's haircut (truth), hate my life, wear a hat for six months and vow to never, ever again have my hair that short, even at the ripe age of 80 with great, great grandkids yanking on it.

So I've been cutting my hair. And I've been very careful in how I cut it.

Until the other day.
That darn other day.
Time machine, anyone?

Several times I have heard people say, "If she has a problem with me, why is she telling everyone else when if she would just tell me we could settle it like adults!"

Or:

"So Friend lied and said she was sick today and skipped out on our lunch when in reality I found out she was doing something else. She should've just told me she didn't want to go. I would've understood."

Or (LOL, I'm noticing I'm using "she" in these examples. I'm just going off what I've been hearing, folks, don't go reading into this like I'm blaming anyone.):

"She is just avoiding me and not answering my calls or texts. If she doesn't want to talk to me she should just say so."

I can count maybe two people who have said those things and I have believed them. These two women are women who don't beat around the bush, they don't have time for drama, they are very cut-and-dry as well as take-me-as-I-am women whom I admire and pray every day to be just like.
I should pray harder for that. ;)

But the rest of the people I've heard say that I honestly wonder just how well they would handle someone saying this to them:

"Friend, the way you treated my friend was garbage. I can't believe you could do such a thing. Because of that, I think less of you and will be wary of you from here on out."

Or:

"Friend, I don't want to hang out today, even though we made plans. I would rather spend my time alone, shopping for fabrics. I'm sure you understand, right?"

Or:

"Friend, I'm not up to being chatty with you. I know Other Friend and I are super close and I answer her texts but not yours. It's just that she and I are besties and I don't feel that closeness with you."

Honestly, I can not see how these truths would keep any peace between people. So we create half-truths, bold face lies, or avoidance to protect both parties.

Case in point:
**I hate having to justify myself before telling everyone that I did something I feel to be black-hearted, but I would have it no other way and to be completely frank, I would like to think I'm getting better as a person, although the "better" I get, the less patience I have with drama....go figure. I guess I'll always be a work in progress.

Justification: Since April I've been assigned as President over the children's organization at church. I won't go into all I do. All I can say is that I came into this position feeling like I stepped into a world of foreign languages and here I had to not only know it all, but to lead it all with a great big smile on my face. Along with this position is my having to force myself to be more social than I like. I know that sounds silly as I'm a Type 3 and being social comes naturally to me. But being forced to be social puts me on a faster burnout than burning out on my own.

Needless to say, I have put my phone on silent for hours DAILY, refused to answer calls, ignored texts, overlooked emails, and avoided fellow churchgoers like Ebola when I see them outside of the church building. And when I do have meetings, I'm feeling like I'm halfway Ladee as my energy is low and my lights dim. My smile is fake, my laughter is forced, I ignore the people around me, I'm just a big, faker.

And. I. hate. it. It's not who I am. But when you're running on "E", you're never your true self.

I know I need to find a happy balance between recharging and giving this position 100% but until then, I'm trudging through. No worries. It's all part of the refiner's fire. I'm not complaining, just stating fact. I accepted this position and knew this would be my future for a while.

Well, I have a friend who loves to chat. And has wanted to chat nonstop for several days.
Lately, I have been avoiding her texts but keep feeling that "pull" like my friend is waiting on the other end (y'all know what I'm talking about?). It's a pull that drives me insane until I respond. But responding is a double-edged sword because if I respond, well, you know what happens next.

She texts again within minutes. With animation! With emoticons! She texts questions. She wants lengthy answers to match her lengthy comments.

And I continue this cycle of avoidance/attention, to where it is beginning to take over my priorities.

This friend is one of those friends who has told me the lines I wrote above. She likes honesty. Or so she says. She also knows I'm feeling a tad buried and finding my bearings. But she also likes my time too, which I love to give, but right here, right now, I just can't give that. And if I want to keep this friendship with her, I have to be honest. Call it a boundary, but I need space. Just for a little while.

I finally wrote this evening with, "I'm sorry I haven't been feeling up to texting. I'm feeling overwhelmed and therefore, antisocial. I promise, it is not you."

I could swear I felt storm clouds directed at me and a sea of unhappy angels informing me I was a bad friend.

My chatty friend responds with four, simple words: "It's fine, I understand."

The one problem with texting is that you can't see or hear the person who is talking. And without the blasted use of emoticons, we are all left to guess.
But I know I get vibes from texts. And this text came to me with a heaviness (on top of the storm clouds). The words appeared to me with depth, as though they were sunken into my screen, a deep grey, and holding a fresh coat of pain.

I wrote back and apologized, something I shouldn't have done, as I'm backtracking (thanks, The Crazy) but now I'm feeling bad. I ask if she's ok. Again, something I shouldn't've done but...

And she doesn't respond. I know she read the text. She carries her phone with her as often as she carries her left foot.

A similar incident with her a month or so ago, when I tried to put some space between us for my sake, had her texting me with this:
"I didn't know I was overwhelming you. I will give you the space that you need. I won't text you until you text me first."
My instinctual nature has me rolling my eyes while The Crazy comes barreling in, feeling upset for noticing Friend twisting my words in such a way that I'm left to feel blame for her feelings.

But in the mean time I have to sit and wonder why in the world I am feeling guilted for being honest. The Type 3 in me honestly does not care as I am following what my body needs. I need time to be away. I need time to recharge.

But the concerned Type 2 in me keeps rearing her head and making me wonder if I've killed the friendship this time, because The Crazy makes brash assumptions like a boss.

**I do have to say that I contradict myself. I have times when I'm feeling terribly antisocial and therefore will go on facebook and will chat with my wonderful friends in the personality groups I follow. Somehow that heals me. Sometimes getting away from the world you're encompassed in for a couple hours helps you see your world from the outside.
But how can I say that to this friend who wants honesty but will more than likely see that I'm on facebook, "liking" and responding to mine and other's posts during my desire to be antisocial?

And also, I have two friends that have an incredible gift of getting me out of my funk. How must I explain that to her, when she talks with these friends and hears that during my time of being overwhelmed, that I was turning to them?

This is why we are so often lying, dancing around the truth, and avoiding.

People say, "If they can't accept you and what you're telling them, then they aren't your friends."
But if you were to put yourself in their shoes, would YOU be able to understand? Maybe they're more understanding than you are. Maybe they've had a rotten day and your words broke them. Maybe you would take the truth far harsher than your friend did.

I guess I don't really have an ending to this post as I have at times lied, given half-truths, avoided, and told the truth, mostly with the same response: a negative reaction.

I'll sum it up with this:
If you say you can take the truth, you better be prepared to take it when it's given. And if you can't take it when it's given, you better have a legit excuse of your own.

Shaming someone or guilt tripping them for believing they could be honest with you puts you in poor light, my friend, and now, you won't be so readily trusted.

**The Crazy talkin'

My friend moved here to the great state of Texas many, many moons ago. A few weeks later she asked a bunch of us ladies a somewhat personal question and then said, "Remember, this is a judgement-free zone". I remember looking around at my friends with a relief, for this new gal removed the pressure to try to act perfect, or to attempt to give the perfect answer to her question, when she knew that we all knew that we weren't. 

I knew that this was a gal that I was going to like.

I have realized something lately. That the older I get, the more I find how imperfect I am and while I come to God with these imperfections, and state every last one of them to Him, even though I'm clearly aware that He already knows, the more I embrace my flaws, my "sins", my imperfections, my "mess ups"; the more I embrace other people who are in such diverse, different worlds than mine. And the more I don't give a damn as to what their "sins" are when they confess one or two to me.

(source, thank you!)

I was once told that when you come to love yourself, you will find it much easier to love others.

And after I heard that, I heard it several more times. 

Until I finally understood it. Now I don't hear it anymore.

I'm not saying that I completely love myself, or that I'm sin-free (ha--that's a laugh). I understand that the natural man is prone to sin. Regardless of what degree of "sin" that it is. And just because we are prone to sin does not justify the act of sinning. It helps us see that we can be downright stupid at times and that we can understand that and be forgiven if we wholeheartedly promise to try our best to never do it again.

Sin = enter your own definition.

I will not be telling you what I believe is right or wrong, or what is or isn't a sin. As I'm no judge. I'm just a person trying to do the best I can and trying to be as Christlike as I can. Drinking beer, for me, is a sin. But I don't believe that it's labeled a sin for everyone (and I will never judge you for doing it. Ever). 

See what I mean? So interpret the word "sin" as you will.

I also know too that if we were to lay our "sins" out on the table for all to see that by the end of this experiment we would all end up friendless. Because we would one, be ashamed of ourselves; and two, be disgusted with our neighbor.

The only people who needs to know our struggles, our imperfections, is the One who atoned for them and the One who sent His Son to atone for them. 

But sometimes, our imperfections come out.

Sometimes they are harder to hide than others. 

And yet people point the finger of blame because while they may be stronger than OUR sin/s, they have a closet ransacked with their own they are trying to ignore. And putting emphasis on our problems helps them, for a brief moment, forget theirs. 

Why do we do this?

Why do we find joy in other's pain?

And why do we hide our own pain?

Do we not understand that when we place so much energy into hiding our imperfections that we are actually doing more bad than embracing them and freeing them from within our soul? When we embrace them and free them, the likelihood of them returning is slim to none! Because they no longer have power over us to attract them back into our lives!

If we put as much energy into the great things about us and not so much into hiding the "bad", or what people may have had you thinking is "bad", how much more fulfilled do you think life would be?

When you lay down at night, do you honestly think your Maker wants you hating yourself for your imperfections? YOUR MAKER. Think of a person you love the most. More than anyone else. How would you feel if you knew he/she spent the quiet hours of their life shaming themselves, when you want nothing more than for them to see themselves through YOUR eyes?

How do you think God feels when he sees us doing this? 

You know he made every last part of you, including your strengths and weaknesses. You are His work of art. His masterpiece. Yes, YOU are a masterpiece!

Look, God knows we aren't perfect. God knows we have moments of weakness, or moments when we act heartless without thinking. He understands. He wants us to come to Him and say, "I know I did wrong, help me?" and promise to honestly TRY to make ourselves better.

Just the other day I did something heartless. I was at the store, looking for an item that I couldn't find and someone came up to me and said, "Hi, how are you?" To which I responded quietly, "I'm good, thanks". I said it kindly, not warmly as I was in concentration mode and didn't want to be bothered. This person walks off, comes back up to me and says again, "Hi, how are you?" To which I say louder and curtly while burning my eyes into theirs to make sure they're hearing me, "I'm GOOD, THANKS." 

I would have been better off saying, "Will you just shut up and leave me alone?" by the look on this person's face. I had clearly upset this person. Their eyes saddened. Their demeanor fizzled. I could swear I saw this person's heart breaking before me. And I, irritatingly walked away. Only to feel piss poor afterwards. I hoped to run into the person again to apologize, but couldn't find them. 

"I'm a bword." I vented to myself. "It's freakin' 7:30 in the morning and I probably ruined their whole day. What kind of person am I? How dare I act that way? I am an advocate of cheering people up, brightening their day, giving warm smiles and kind words. And I did none. of. that. Ladee, you are a loser."

While that may be a mere "sin", I was sorry. Deeply sorry. And I prayed hard for forgiveness. 

But what if I were to hold onto that "sin"? What would happen? I can only imagine myself forcefully trying to be overly nice to everyone, even at the expense of my energy, so I would never let anyone believe that I'm a mean-ol' woman. I would spend the dark hours of night in anxiety, thinking about how I affected that person's day...when I may not have affected it as bad as I assumed I did. The look on that person's face I still see vividly, but I know it would only haunt me in greater detail. I could very well try to hide from anyone at the store so that I don't accidentally do it again and potentially be even meaner...as all my energy is being spent on hiding how mean I am.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: We all sin. Don't act like you don't and that you're perfect enough to cast stones at your neighbor because their weaknesses are different than yours. What if the tables were turned and your neighbor knew your secrets? Would you want them casting their stones of perfection at you because they don't sin like you do?

I didn't think so.

Also, don't hold on to your sins. There was a Man that came to this Earth to atone for them! He paved a way that you could give Him your sins and to explain to Him all your weaknesses, and through His love He'll make everything better! As long as you are TRYING, He is fighting with you, easing your burdens, removing your guilt. Making you stronger.

That's it: TRY. 

TRY not to sin. TRY to love yourself. And you'll find that loving other's regardless of the way they live easier and more rewarding than you could ever imagine. 

All we need is love. Love is the strongest, most powerful gift you can give anyone. It heals, it brings understanding, it changes lives.

Love, don't judge. That's all that's asked of us anyways, right?