Full Moon 13

Crazy lady rants

Friend or Spectator?

Sometimes I wonder why people hold onto others when they don’t really want to. They don’t make an effort to stay in touch, if & when they respond it’s with bare minimum communication, make excuses when really the truth of the matter is your time with those people ended.
We were put in their life for a reason or a season but when it becomes apparent it wasn’t for a lifetime, why not cut the cord? Be honest with the person. Why just keep them around making them think they have a friend when really they don’t, they just have a “spectator”. They have someone who revels in their failures and sad times, and ignores their happy moments. What’s the point?
I obviously care way more about some people than they do me, I genuinely care. But for some reason they’d rather remain spectators in my life than an actual “friend”
I hear these words all the time “busy” “stressed” “difficult time” I understand that at times we are busy, and have a lot going on, but when months, even years pass I think it’s more “I just don’t like you anymore” than it is “life”
Don’t like me anymore? Just tell me. It hurts my feelings WAY more trying to figure out where I stand in someone’s life. We always have time for the people we want to make time for. We’ll always have an excuse for those we don’t.
(excuses and actual legit reasons are two different things, I understand that)
I’m starting a new journey I think is long over due. For those that can handle me at my worst and still love me and actually want to be there during my good and bad times, thank you. I appreciate you. For those that are mere spectators our reason and season is up. It was a blessing to have you in my life for the time spent. Our laughter and cries. Our good times and bad. It’s okay that our friendship is over, not everything in our life is meant to be forever. I’m not mad, I don’t hold any negative feelings. I just want real. I need to know who’s really on my side and who is just waiting to laugh at my next fall. Who is willing to take the time to help me up when I fall, who I can call when I’m facedown drowning in my own tears and who will step over me because they don’t feel like dealing with me, or those that see me down and get a warm happy feeling inside.
I’m tired of feeling alone and like I don’t matter. Be honest with yourself and with me. Please. It’s all I ask.
I can see through the bullshit so please don’t try to make me believe something we both know isn’t true.
No, this isn’t another episode. This has been on my mind for a long time.
Do you actually care if I’m in your life?
Or if I die tomorrow will you all of sudden have something to say?
Do I actually matter in your life while I’m still alive?
No I’m not suicidal, I’m not even a little bit sad at the moment, nor am I depressed. I’m actually thinking clearly and in a good spot in my life. So unless some freak accident happens, I am here.
I’m only sad that I feel way more than the average person and feel alone all the time. Day after day, month after month, year after year. It’s me, my husband and the kids. That’s it.


And Websters


Weight loss / gain rant… Again

I’m a fat girl with a loud skinny bitch inside that won’t shut up!

Before first child 2006- 165 pounds

May 2016 – 220 pounds

February 2017 – 192

July 2017-175 pounds

February 2018- 204 pounds.

July 2018- 212 pounds

Goal ideal weight-


^^that was me, summer 2017 185 pounds. I was so happy because while I’m still overweight, I wasn’t 220, I wasn’t even 200 or 190.

At 5’2 there’s not room to grow out.

I’m a fat girl. Period. I was never meant to be on the thinner side and yet my brain refuses to accept that. I am so sick and tired of the struggle my brain and body have on a daily basis every moment of the day. As much as I plan, schedule, read, watch, buy, want, need, like, admire, strive… the truth of the matter is I’m a lazy fuck. I like the idea of working out, going for walks, sweating, eating healthy but when it comes to actually doing those things I allow myself to get distracted and or make excuses. I think the sooner I accept the fact that I’m just fat and lazy the sooner I might actually start living a happy life. I have a serious mental issue with weight, I always have from as young as elementary school years. While the other girls were starving themselves to lose weight, I wanted to but I always ate, I couldn’t not eat. While other girls were sticking their fingers down their throat, I hated throwing up so I didn’t do it. You get the point.
So, how does someone like me remain fat but find happiness in that when the skinny bitch inside me loathes the fat lazy girl I am? How do I accept that? I Would love a personal trainer, a weight babysitter for one month that no matter what stayed focused on helping me. I need a solid 30 days of someone I can hate but love in the end. Someone who I can push buttons with but not make them quit on me. I just need 30 days to retrain my brain into starting something, finishing it and learning discipline. I am the most inconsistent person alive. What I do today, I probably won’t do tomorrow. I lose interest in things rather quickly and or let stress from Taking care of the family get to me.
Drug addicts get rehab.
Mental patients get rehab.
Where is the rehab for obesity? I don’t have $25,000 to pay for it.

And my Fitbit broke 6 months ago, with kids in school finding an extra $150 isn’t happening. At least having one of those helped more than not having one. Or is that another excuse? 😔

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Heroin/Narcan & Cancer part 2.

Don’t confuse anger with passion. When someone speaks about something that has touched their heart in such a way they have to speak about it, more likely it’s passion, they are speaking with conviction. They are hurting.

My post about narcan was passion. I’m angry at the government.
I’m angry because in a world where we are watching our children fight for their lives from cancer, our mothers, our friends.. Etc our government quickly found an antidote for a heroin overdose but not a cure for cancer.

I believe in 2nd chances, I wish all those who got that second chance at life with narcan would turn their lives around. Instead, a large majority of them end up overdosing again and again until finally medical help doesn’t get to them soon enough.
I know my words come easy because I’ve never known anyone personally that has overdosed and been brought back, I haven’t personally been affected by someone who has drug problems. I have empathy for the people the drug addicts leave behind, my heart breaks for them. The drug users themselves, I can understand why they use to cover up the pain they feel inside from either a shitty life or a traumatic event. Again, my comments made about them is passion. I honestly do care, but there’s nothing I can do about it. And I wish I could help.
I’m angry at our government and health care system that refuse to accept patients who lack insurance or don’t have good insurance. For mental health offices that “need to evaluate your file to see if you QUALIFY and if the doctor wants to take you on as a patient” I’ve heard those exact words. WTF is that? No, a doctor receives a new patient and they go from there. What is this bullshit about a patient qualifying? If someone reaches out for help, they need help. Period. As a doctor you help them. Screw their insurance.
I’m angry at our government for bleeding Americans for million dollar cancer treatments only for them to get it again and usually worse the 2nd time. But some how narcan is given to drug abusers for free, they get free needles, free help and we have families who lose everything they’ve worked for their whole lives taken away because they owe a million dollars to a hospital.
My heart does feel more sympathy and empathy for a cancer patient than that of a drug abuser. Maybe I need more understanding, and education. I don’t know.
If I hurt you with my words the other day or even in this post, help me understand why. I have a very open mind. Help me understand your side and we’ll go from there.


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Growling echoes from the dark corners

I need a therapist that will make it more like a fancy tea party but with coffee and tissues that actually hold up to the tears you put in them,
A therapist that doesn’t cut you off at 45 minutes regardless of the level 10 breakdown you’re experiencing to tell you time is up.
A therapist that won’t force you to go from crying to “normal” within seconds so you can walk out and face strangers.
A therapist with night time appointments because those are the darkest hours of the tarnished soul growling echoes into every corner of your mind.
A therapist that will understand my breakdown is okay and not say the words “you need medicine” when what I really need is a break through and someone who understands my tears more than my words.
A therapist that won’t take things away from my kids because money is all they care about, leaving me to choose between talking to someone or getting my kid that thing they want or need. I will always choose my kids.
A therapist that isn’t writing every little thing I say down in jumbled notes completely misconstruing what I say.
A therapist that doesn’t look for “red flags” and “key words” and instead just listens to your over flooded spirit pouring out emotions in the form of nonsense word vomit that even I don’t understand.
A therapist that doesn’t try to numb you with a cocktail of experimental drugs that only worsens your problems or gives you issues you didn’t even have in the first place.
A therapist that will speak truth to you because that’s what you need to hear, not the nonchalant safe suggestions as if she’s walking on delicate egg shells terrified of breaking one. Even though I am one.
A therapist that you can speak freely to without fear of judgements or embarrassments.
A therapist that will understand the hurt and pain behind my silence on days I can’t talk at all.
A therapist that loves my broken pieces because she knows when I’m glued back together I am a fun, loving, sweet, funny person who’d give my all to help someone else to feel happy.
Ever wonder why I try so hard to make others happy? Because I know what it feels like to want to die thinking nobody gives a shit and I don’t want anyone else to feel that way. But right now, I’m so down I can’t help anyone else and that breaks my heart.
A therapist that doesn’t have a doctors degree and answers to the title of FRIEND.
I need a therapist friend.

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Is it me, or is it them? I’m a beautiful disaster.

Depression. Mood swings. Feeling Alone.

Is that who we are or are people in our environment making us feel and act that way?

Is it insecurity that keeps us stuck where we are comfortable even if we’re not happy?

Is it Fear that keeps us from trying?

What exactly causes our mental health to plummet in life? Were we seriously born this way? What actually started the downward spiral? I’m pretty confident our biology has something to do with it, but I’m starting to wonder if unfinished business from our past and how we shaped our lives around that unfinished business has more to do with it than our genes.

I was diagnosed with bi-polar at 15 years old. My fathers girlfriend at the time hated me. I was pretty, I was nice, I was sweet. She hated everything about me but did so silently and with a smile. She started telling total lies to my dad about me doing drugs ( never did) he knew that, he knew me but love will make you do stupid things and so he started acting different towards me. I was a good kid. Even at 15 I was respectful, I stayed in my room listened to music and did my homework. I rarely went out. Anywhere. Fast forward SHE insisted I needed to see a psychiatrist. I was out of control. I laughed at her because I was a dream child. She insisted I needed help because once I noticed her behavior I called her out on it, she didn’t like that.  So at that time my environment made me depressed, I was having a mental battle of wits with a grown woman who manipulated my only parent into believing things that weren’t true. I was fighting to believe I was sane and a normal teenager, a normal daddy’s girl except every day I began questioning all of those things. She would be my best friend one day, reel me into her web and because I was so desperate for a mother-daughter relationship I got trapped every single time. I believed in the good. I believed in second chances. and third. fourth. etc.  It got the point I didn’t know what was up or down anymore. I didn’t know who I was or what I was. What was right or what was wrong. That situation I feel made me ‘bipoolar’, my moods were in fact all over the place. My depression was deep, it was dark and my internal demons were brought to life and had a field day at my expense. At 15 years old, I was diagnosed with bipolar. I gained my label as “crazy”. I became the victim of mental illness.

I won’t go into my current life but I’m seriously questioning whether or not that turning point at 15 set me up for who I am now, why I’m where I’m at in life and how my life turned out. Don’t get me wrong, My childhood was fucked up but after making the early decision around age 9 that I only wanted to live with my dad life got a lot better. Up until the wicked witch showed up.  But that label started a snowball effect for the rest of my life. It set the foundation of  my identity. That label created a whole other person inside me that I haven’t been able to shake. (not multiple personalities, although sometimes I swear it feels that way) The diagnosis was and still is continued. So that just means I am in fact a roller coaster of tornado emotions, and it’s all true.

The events that have taken place over my life has ultimately shaped me. The desire to be accepted yet the world around me is constantly requesting I change, and adjust who I am. Why should I change? I’m not a horrible person. I’m just someone who likes small groups, nights at home, and nature.

Who am I?

I am an introvert that enjoys my own company. I don’t like small talk or meaningless conversations. I have a hard time dealing with the uneducated even though I’m not that smart myself. My grandest intellectual ability is common sense. I’m an analyzer by nature. I think about everything and anything and have scenarios A-D figured out within seconds. I think constantly.   I love board & card games that tap into my inner intellect.  I love puzzles, any kind. I love music and all kinds, I love to sing and dance but only in my own company. I will never sing or dance in front of anyone minus my kids.  I am shy and don’t do well in groups but will smile and say hello to anyone I come across. I don’t like parties, I don’t do drugs and drink only on certain occasions. when I do drink I take my liquor straight one shot at a time, and usually one shot is all I need. Mixed drinks are for late night parties that don’t have an end time. I do not like beer and will not drink it. Champagne isn’t my style and wine is okay on occasion. I love to laugh and talk. I love to help others I care about with blunt advice. They come to me because they know I tell it like it is and I will often apologize in advance for how blunt I’m about to put something. I don’t sugar coat it. I am a Capricorn.  I am a beautiful disaster.  You see a normal looking middle aged female smiling saying hello. Inside I am crying, fighting back visible tears, fighting my demons, inside I am a disaster.

  What am I?

I am disabled. Since I was 28. I’m almost 37. 😦  I want nothing more than to go back to work and feel like a human being again. I want my OWN money that I can be proud of. I want friends. I want a purpose. I want to be a contribution to society not a roach. I don’t want to have to lie and say I work when I really don’t. I don’t want to be embarrassed anymore.  Thankfully my husband works 40-50 hours a week , but he busts his ass from 630am to 5pm every day. How do I thank him? …. I racked up $20,000 in credit card debt within one year because sometimes times were tough and we had to buy groceries or pay bills, other times I said well, It already has money on it why not buy this or that. I have nothing to show for any of that $20,000 minus kids clothes, shoes, shoes and clothes for us and last years Christmas.  THAT is how a bipolar brain works.  Shopping is my only drug. It’s my only release. Credit card debt is now my biggest cause of my depression and marriage problems.

I am on disability for my Bipolar because after the birth of my first child my demons were given life and they multiplied to the point I had no choice but to quit my job that I loved. I could no longer walk and chew gum at the same time. I couldn’t function. at all. I took care of my baby, I kept her alive and well and loved her something fierce. But the day she was born, something in me died. Sad huh? I think it is. I have tried getting it back but nothing I have tried works. I even moved 500 miles away thinking a different environment would bring me back. My husband came with us but while the move killed a few demons it brought on different ones. I now fight daily with rapid cycling bipolar, I am at war with myself on a daily basis, all day every day. I’d honestly kill myself but I love my kids far too much to do that. I chicken out every time. I love them and growing up without a mom was the worst part of my life. I would never do that to my kids. I have to protect them. That’s my job. I have to be their mother and their best friend. I have to be their shoulder to cry on when they need it. That’s my job and my heart.

not sure if anyone will even read this far, I just had to get this out before I exploded. I hope if you too suffer from mood issues you will consider your environment, the people in your circle, know you’re not alone, and most importantly find your ONE reason to stay alive and keep fighting. You are worth it. Somebody does love you even if you feel like nobody does, Somebody will miss you, even if you feel that nobody will. Keep fighting. ♥

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I’ve lost 30 pounds FINALLY

Catchy title huh? As much as I’d like to say I did this through hard work I can’t tell a lie.  After 9 weeks of *trying* on my own and making drastic changes I was only losing 1 pound a week. I know what you’re thinking, “1 pound is normal”, “it’s the healthy way to lose weight” “you’re more likely to maintain a slow loss”  NO! Have you ever been overweight? Have you ever struggled mentally with weight loss? If the answer is yes, great, I’m happy those mindsets worked for you. However, I’m part of a larger population of people that slow and steady does not win the race. Slow and steady for us causes us to get frustrated and give up.

I woke up one Monday morning absolutely fed up with the scale only moving a few ounces. I wasn’t able to commit 100% because well, I craved my old habit foods. I ate my emotions. blah blah, read my other blogs to catch up. But I was making significant changes compared to my old habits and I wasn’t seeing the weight loss to match my efforts. Which caused me to give up.

I called a weight loss center and made an appointment. Two weeks later I sat in a 4 hour class that taught us how to eat, what to eat, when to eat and how much to eat. How to read, study and understand nutrition labels. We were instructed to keep detailed hand written, calculated food diaries. No excuses.  We were measured, weighed and met with a doctor who laid down the law of his practice. Work for it and you will succeed, Don’t work for it, I’ll let you go. He told us He’s not going to waste his time or ours. (YAY! Finally someone who won’t take my shit, I need a firm hand on this journey)

He then Prescribed daily Phentermine 37.5 tablets and HCG Injections once a week. I was aware of this going in and did my research. I was desperate and didn’t care.

This was May 17, 2016. I was on key 100% for the first 3 weeks, then went camping and got back on soda and cheeseburgers, came home for week 4 before my check up and was still off the wagon. I lost 14 pounds my first month.

It took a whole week after that camping trip to get back on track. I quit soda (again) and started eating right (again)  I started losing again after weeks of sitting in a plateau.

From June 20th till now (July 18th) I have only lost an additional 10 pounds since my last weigh in. I went back home to philly for a week and came home extra depressed. I got off track for a week, no soda, but ate white bread again, ate dinner past 6pm, and would have a little ice cream cup a day, or a handful of this snack or that snack. I wasn’t eating my protein, or veggies like I was. I haven’t been writing in my food journal and keeping track of my calories, macros, or water intake. I haven’t exercised at all.

Although I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing, I am trying to make better decisions throughout the day. I’ve been off of soda for a while now and only having a few sips once in a while, I don’t even like it anymore. I prefer water more than anything, If i must have junk I consciously down a bottle of water first, and only take out 1 serving and cut it in half.  If I have to have ice cream I started buying those little chocolate & vanilla cups in a bag, I get like 12 for $2. They are 100 calories each and one is all I need. If I buy a carton I will fill a bowl up and make myself sick.

So I haven’t perfected what I’ve been taught but I’m trying. Having the kids off for summer break is hard on me with trying to keep up on my journal, and exercising because I can’t necessarily take them for 1-3 mile walks at 8am and it’s already hot out. Maybe that’s just another excuse I don’t know.

Starting weight: 220 March 2016

Starting weight loss center -212.0 May 17th

1st weigh in- 198.0  June 20th

Current weight 189 July 18th.

my weight loss doctor may kick me out of the program. I’m scared, I need him. I need more time!

The kids go back to school August 10th. I will make sure I get back on track 100%. My life depends on it. Doctor gave me a goal of 150 pounds. So as of right now I’m 40 pounds away! I’d love to see that Before December 25th, 2016.


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what’s considered “crazy”vs “normal”

Why can’t someone have a bad mood without someone saying “you need an anti-depressant” why can’t I have a lot on my mind, need time to myself before I go insane without someone saying “you need a stabilizer”
maybe I don’t feel the need to medicate my problems,maybe I prefer identifying my issues and finding a solution so I can move past it.
I am NOT depressed and I’m NOT experiencing erratic moods. I AM experiencing a lot of financial stress, a lot of relationship issues, a lot of torn feelings, I’m homesick, I was never country and never will be, I feel isolated, alone and used.
No pill will fix any of those problems. A pill will only numb the emotions that as a human being I am entitled to feel. I’m allowed to feel angry, sad, stressed out, emotional, just as much as I’m allowed to laugh, cry, walk or run.
I am a human being with a beating heart and a brain that thinks. Last time I checked having feelings is all part of being alive.
I have no desire to kill myself, I don’t hate anyone or anything, I am simply going through a stage that many other people go through in life. It’s called LIFE! But because I am different than some people I know, they can’t understand my way of dealing with things. They only accuse me of being ill minded and want me to go get pills. NO THANK YOU! been there done that, and unless I feel myself in a dark hole with death choking me, then I will very well deal with my problems head on so I can move forward with my life. Sitting still with a blindfold on never gets anything solved.
So, am I wrong/crazy for thinking this way? Or are these people suggesting a prescription is the answer just want me like them? popping pills to numb the pain and stress even though they wake up just as miserable, stressed, and unhappy as they were 25 years ago?????
somebody help me understand. No wonder I have issues. Being told who you are ultimately defines you. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I am okay and the people that have drilled it in my head my whole life are the ones with the problems???
Maybe my stages of depression are caused by my environment. Maybe my moods are normal. I mean do normal people have bad days? Do normal people ever feel stressed out or sad? Overwhelmed or feel like they need a change???  Or do “crazy” people only experience those things?

I am very aware of my mental state. There have been times in my life when I’ve been so depressed I knew it was more than just a bad day or a bad week. I knew I needed help and I went and got it to help pull me through. I know my brain is damaged. My whole gene pool has mental issues, I just feel like I have a better grip on mine and a better understanding on life and what makes me tick. I had a different up bringing than my siblings and my parents. My parents know me, but they have no idea who I really am. I was a latch key kid raised by a single father with help from a guardian angel, an earth angel and mothers of my friends. I share their DNA, but certainly not their way of thinking.
somebody who isn’t blood has to be able to make sense of this. Cause now I have it in my head I’m just crazy and need pills to numb me.


losing weight is a waiting game…

Short blog today, I have too much to do.

Started this lifestyle change for real on March 28th. It’s been 2 weeks and I’ve lost 4 pounds. I started off at 217.6 and today I checked in at 213.4


I haven’t exercised at all outside of my normal housework. I’m a stay at home mom with no kids at home during the day as they are in school. So it’s just me, HULU, 4 cats, 1 big dog and a shit ton of chores.
My breakfast has been the SAME thing for 2 weeks. 2 boiled eggs (sometimes I dont’ eat the yolk) 4 slices of turkey bacon and tomato slices or cucumbers.
My Lunch as been the same thing. 1 can of Starkist tuna in water, (or 3oz grilled chicken) 2 cups of Organic 50/50 spring mix & spinach, (1 small sweet pepper, 2 tblspn red onion, and other veggies) 2 tablespoons of Olive Garden Italian dressing. It is so filling and good it’s amazing
my dinners… ehhhh  I need to work on that. Once everyone is home I lose self control and motivation. with 2 kids and a husband it’s stressful and I’m an emotional eater. BUT I have made drastic improvements over the past 2 weeks and I expect to keep fighting.

i went from drinking 3-6 sodas a day. (GROSS) to I’ve had 2 in the past 7 days total. I still drink my homemade dunkin Donuts french vanilla iced coffee with 2 tblspn DD extra extra creamer 🙂 (2-4x a day) NOBODY will take my iced coffee away lol drinking it literally keeps me sane. There’s just something about it.


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I Got a Breast Reduction (part 2) Update 2 years later

Hey reader, If you’re reading this before reading part 1 of “I Got a Breast Reduction” please read it now. https://bluegirl208pounds.wordpress.com/2014/01/07/i-got-a-breast-reduction/

ok, Thanks for taking that few minutes to read part 1, now for part 2 AKA Update!

It’s been 2 full years since my reduction and I’ve settled in to a 38DD but guess what? They are uneven and both are different shapes. Probably from the complication I had. But still.

Instead of gaining self esteem and losing weight like I had hoped, planned and tried doing I now weigh 30 pounds more and my boobs are ugly. No, not from the scars;  having a chest that looks like frankenstein actually doesn’t bother me. No, it’s the shapes. Yes plural, SHAPES! I guess because of the life/death complication I had on my left breast it caused a change in shape. But hey! I’m alive and well, so I guess I should be thankful. Eh, sure. I guess.


*less back pain
*less neck strain
*shirts fit
*bikini tops fit better than they did before (Not that I belong in a bikini top, but life is short- so screw it! )
*I can exercise completely free now, no bruises or porn act


*odd shapes created a non existent bra size
*torpedo boobs anyone?
*bat wings!  or at least that’s what they call them. It’s disgusting pockets of fat (aka side boob) left over from my once ginormous breasts. Insurance doesn’t cover Lip Suction and I’m not wealthy so I can’t afford lipo to remove it.

*LOW-er Self esteem- Get a breast reduction they said. ( and I said)  Boy was that a mistake. I had NO IDEA how big a part of who I was lied within my boobs. Apparently It was the only thing I had going for me. I hated them because I hate attention. I hated people (women and men) judging me because of them. Both sexes thought I was some kind of slut, so both sexes would make comments.  But now that I don’t have them, I miss them terribly. When the world around me went wrong, “at least I have big boobs”. When other girls tried flirting with my husband, “at least my boobs are bigger than hers, I’m good” When I needed a snack and food was nowhere to be found, I could just reach down my bra and pull out a full course meal. (totally kidding, I even just gagged a little just saying that LOL)
Now, I’m just fat with little boobs and totally disproportionate. A body that was never mine and I don’t recognize it.


Funny story:
When I needed to get out a ticket, “use the boobs! unzip your jacket a little” I’d tell myself and it worked. Or it could have just been my personality that got me off. I was always respectful towards the officer, yes sir, I’d always admit my guilt . Mind you it was 2am and I had just gotten off work as a waitress back in my college years, I sat at a red light to turn left and the damn light just wouldn’t give me an arrow. So after about 2-3 light changes I said “fuck it” and turned left on red. (not a single car in sight) So I made the left and damn it if I didn’t hear the little WHOOP WHOOP and the lights. OH MAN!  Ipulled over and looked but no cop. HUH? where’d he go? So I stayed on the shoulder because I just turned left on red and I KNOW he’s coming for me. I got my information out and waiting for him. He got to me about 30 seconds later. Cop comes up to my window smiling “do you know why I pulled you over?”  I said  “yes, I turned left on red, and technically I pulled over and waited for you LOL) He laughed and said well, you waited about 2-3 lights before you turned, but didn’t you see me sitting there?  I looked him right in the eyes and said “officer, if I  saw you sitting there, I wouldn’t have made an illegal turn”  He laughed again and told me he appreciated my honesty. Told me there he was just going to run my information and as long as I didn’t have any problems he’d let me go.  Of course I didn’t, I was/am a good girl. So, boobs or personality, or both. Either way I had the confidence to smile at a cop.

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Day 10, it’s getting easier.

I update my facebook more than my blog, but since I now have a few people who follow this shit storm I call a blog, (and I appreciate each and every one of you ♥) I figured I’d update you all.
I’m on day 10, honestly I didn’t think I’d make it past day 1-7. Last Friday (April 1) I weighed in because I knew I wouldn’t make it past the weekend and have anything good to report on Monday. So, on Friday I weighed in at 215.0. I started out at 217.6. WAHOO! Hard work does pay off!

I haven’t started a real exercise schedule yet. Every time I try to lose weight I dive in head first and fail every single time. This time I am literally taking it one thing at a time. I’ll add in exercise later, but for right now, I need to get my food straight. Plus, I’m solar powered and this weather here in the south BLOWS!!! One day it’s 70 and sunny, the next its 30 with flurries. I give up. I have a really nice treadmill too, but that shit boring. It makes a really nice clothes rack though. LOL You should get one! ;-)~

This Monday (April 5th) I MADE IT THROUGH THE WEEKEND!!! OK, Friday I totally failed. During the day I did ok, but when the kids came home and the husband I went from strong and confident to FUCK IT real quick. I thought my journey was done. I committed diet suicide.  But I surprised myself when I woke up Saturday and felt ok. My strong and confident mindset returned. So I kept going. Monday when I weighed in, I was 213.4. YEAH BUDDY!.

Starting weight: 216.8   3/25/16   (real starting weight was 217.6)

Last week:             215.0  4/1/16
Current Weight: 213.4   4/5/16     I’m excited! 🙂

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