Healthy stoner brain.

Sometime, I feel that the real me comes out when I’m just a little high.

After work this evening from a hell of a week, I was chilling with some friends in an online chatroom. One of them was relaxing with some weed and I decided to also partake in the relaxation plan. At the time, I was munching on some Taco Bell. Then, about an hour later, I find myself looking for some divided plates on Amazon which is always a fun time when you also have ADD. The plates led to bento boxes, which led to looking up healthy snacks on Pinterest, including researching balanced meals.

While looking at all these apps at the same time, my phone was also in hand, filling up my grocery cart for home delivery while making a second list of things I would have to pick up at a different store as the online store didn’t carry those items. Throw in some good music on my Spotify list and I was dancing the night away.

Now, I’m not quite sure how I was able to stay as organized as I was. All the items go perfectly together AND… my stoner brain was kind enough to make sure that everything selected online has little to no prep needed.

God I love my stoner brain. It’s gotten hard for over the last few years to find enough spoons (Spoons = energy. Google it) to do the meal prep that I used to once do. And because of that, I struggle to eat healthy. I prefer small snacks to full sit down meals anyway, so every now and again I’ll get excited to research interesting healthy snacks. You’d be surprised on how hard it can be to find everything seasoning. I know I was. Even Amanzon failed me a time or two.

Tomorrow I will begin the creation of delicious snack boxes. Muahahahaha!!!!

First speeding ticket with a mountain of anxiety.

This morning started like any other. Cruising down the road in a hurry to drop my roommate off at work so that I could get back home and crawl into bed for a couple more hours before work. When lights flashed in my review mirror, I did my duty, slowing down and pulling over to the side of the road along with another car convinced that I would be waved on. When the officer flagged the other car to go on, my heart dropped into my throat.

I was dumbfounded. There had to be a mistake. How could this officer think that I had broken the law? Even though I instantly knew I had. Always impatient to return to my warm bed. So full of fluster that as I rummaged through my glove box to find my registration and handed him the first I could find. Only to realize later that I have a bad habit of keeping the past packed away in a box I rarely used and had handed him last years registration.

When he asked about my insurance I almost handed him my health insurance card. But he was nice and offered to look it up for me from his car. The wait lasted probably a couple of minutes. Five tops. But it felt like a lifetime. I sat in that car, his lights bright enough to make me feel my own conviction beginning to interrogate myself internally. I was the definition of compliance and politeness. Yes Sir. No Sir. Thank you Sir. He handed me my ticket and panic began to rise as I pulled away from the curb. Anxiety telling me that all eyes were on me, waiting to pull me back over and rip away my license.

A lot of drama for a simple speeding ticket. But the story in my mind was just beginning to unfold. Within moments of being back on the road, my roommate began to laugh historically, making a joke of how I had acted. I was agitated and in the midst of a panic attack, so I punched him. Not hard, just enough to get him to stop joking at my expense.

After dropping him off, I took a long rout home, assured that the cop was still sitting there, waiting for my return to add onto my ticket. All the while, trying to hold the panic attack at bay. Repeating to myself that I needed to get home safe. By the time I walked back through the door, I was calm. I took out the ticket and scanned every word to better understand it. Needless to say, there was no sleep ahead of me. Instead I sat in the front room of my house, my favorite room, the room that made me feel the safest and scoured Tik Tok for comedy skits in hopes that laughter could take the edge off. But my mood was sour, and my humor hid away, refusing to give even a chuckle.

Finally, the light of the day began to grow outside and I knew it was time to put away my phone and face my feelings. I cried. Not because a speeding ticket is that emotional of an ordeal, but in that moment, everything felt so hard. All I wanted was someone to hug me and tell me that it will all be ok. But no one did. No one was there. And my roommate was the only other person in my immediate circle that even knew about the ticket. Even if he hadn’t been at work that moment, I can’t even imagine him offering a supportive hug.

And then I was calm again. I decided to pay the ticket and put it all behind me. But the county website didn’t show any recognition of my citation yet. In the search for more information, I reached out to a co-worker who I remembered had gotten a speeding ticket in the past couple of years. Apparently, it can take up to a week for the website to sync up with the police computer system. So, now I wait. Annoyed.

As the day wore on, I felt my anxiety begin to rise again. I had to eventually leave the house again to pick up my roommate from work. And that road was of course the fastest way to get to my destination. Even though I knew it was unlikely that THAT particular office would still be on shift or that any officer would be parked at that exact location, it still sat there, in my head. The image of a masked uniform waiting for me to attempt to get past them. I will say that I almost let that thought control me. For a moment the thought played through my head, suggesting that I can always take the long way around. I just have to leave a little early. But then, I herd the absurdity of the plan. Had to remind myself that this wasn’t some crazy street trick that had happened, but simply a ticket for going too fast. And the simple solution was to take my normal rout and pay attention to the posted signs (even though I know exactly what they say and where they are), and stay within their posted limits.

Walking to the car, I pumped myself up. You got this! You can do this! Even after facing my fear twice now, the anxiety kicks up each time I have driven. It will take time for it to fade and I know that sounds like making a huge deal over something so small. But that’s kinda how anxiety works.

Anxiety Rant

Tomorrow I have an appointment for a consultation to start therapy again. It’s something that I have wanted for a long time, but I’m also feeling a lot of anxiety around it. In some ways I feel like everyone should be in therapy for one reason or another. It helps. Sometimes just to feel herd by someone. But the anxiety comes from evil thoughts that say that I don’t have real problems. That there are people out there who have had very tough lives, and struggle, and grief. That Im am not being strong, when I could be taking up the time that they need to talk to someone.

I guess, Im not giving the weight to my mental health that it deserves.

Then I asked myself, what is it that you want to talk to a therapist about. And then this huge box arrived, presenting itself with all it’s problematic glory. And I thought, yeah… there’s a lot to unpack there. What comes to the forefront of all that baggage is that I have never really felt like an adult. I am almost 40 years old and my life, on paper, looks like the definition of an adult. I own my own home and car, I have no debt (other than the mortgage), my career is solid. Allowing me to live comfortably enough that I don’t worry how I’m going to pay my bills. And I care for and love a spoiled pet that makes me feel like I have an eternal 2 year old child.

But at the end of the day, with all that going on and all the anxiety and worry I carry with me each moment, I still feel like some teenager just faking it. Everything that I feel for others is a contradiction when referring to myself. I preach and truly believe that you can do anything you want as long as it makes you happy, it doesn’t hurt anyone, and anyone involved has given free consent. And not a moment later, I chastise myself for using my free time in the enjoyment of video games. Or taking pleasure in Disney movies that are colorful sing alongs. Then I ask, what makes me so special, that I hold myself up to a higher standard then I do for all those around me. Encouraging them to simply live their lives to whatever drum makes them smile.

I also want to ask, if it’s odd to feel guilty for not entertaining my dog. There is a primate part of me that understands the hierarchy of this existence. I am the human and give him a warm home, good food, tons of toys and love. What more can a dog ask for. But there are times I look over at him staring at me and he just looks bored. And don’t get me wrong, I do try to play with him, but after about a minute of him growling and winning the tug aware from my hand, he just sits and stares at me like Im playing the game wrong. Maybe I’m projecting my own self image onto him. I don’t know. I guess that’s what I aim to learn.

I’m sure there will be more rants if she decides to take me on as a patient. Workin through some demons that I have surpressed for a lifetime that will make me question all that I am in a search for my true self. Stay tuned for the show.

Mad

I’m mad at you.

I so damn mad that sometimes I can’t see through the tears blurring my vision. Trying to fall, but I refuse. I refuse to hurt anymore because of you.

I’m mad that I miss you. You’r voice, your touch, your ideas.

I’m mad at the knowledge that no matter what, we can never be all that we dreamed up together.

I’m mad that all those untaken adventures will be nothing more than an idea.

The way you acted in the end. Treating me like an enemy simply for wanting to have a conversation about how I was feeling in my heart which was that I wanted you and only you.

I’m mad that when you looked at me, you saw someone that wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel wanted to bad, that you felt you needed a multitude of women to fall before you. To see you as a God. And when I refused to become just a face in the crowd, you didn’t even say good bye.

I didn’t even know the conversation was over. You simply stopped responding and then blocked me as if I had done something wrong.

I’m mad that I let my walls down so easily. Let you see my pain. Let you see my fear.

I’m mad that the week before you made me believe you were falling in love with me. But then the next, had changed your mind.

I’m mad that I have to forgive you so that I can heal and move on.

But I will never forget. And maybe the next time I meet someone, I’ll hold back because of those memories and you will briefly cross my mind.

But one day, I wont be mad.

That day is just not today.

Pep Talk Time

There have been a lot of thoughts on my mind lately. And oddly enough, that whole thing started when I cut my hair. So, bare with me because I know that my thought process can be a little strange sometimes.

I was thinking that lately I’ve felt very lonely. Which sometimes brings me back to the thought of my mom. Stepping back and looking at her life as an adult, I can see that she spent a lot of time trying to find someone to add to her life so that she didn’t feel so lonely. Then after a few relationships throughout my childhood, one day she just gave up. She decided that she wasn’t going to try to find a partner. And I remember that moment clearly, because something in her demeanor changed that day forth.

There was a strength of, well if this is how it’s going to be, then I’m going to do what I want for myself. Which eventually lapsed into a life of work and home. I could see that she was still lonely and tried to respect that decision, but as we do when there’s ones we love, we just want to see them happy. She never went on another date.

Now, I tell you this to give you a glimpse of why sometimes I get scared of the thought of never finding someone to love that will love me in return. Don’t get me wrong, there are some people that stay single their whole lives and do great. But for the majority of society, it’s lonely at times.

You may wonder how this all tie into a haircut. Well, I shaved more then half my head. The top is still kinda short but does this wavy thing in front that makes it look so awesome. I love how I look. But, growing up in a life where I was taught that girls have long hair and you always have to try to look as attractive as possible if you want to find someone. Well, I happen to think my long hair is not only beautiful, but I view it as the major source of any moment where I feel feminine. Or maybe, a better way to describe it is, my long hair made me feel attractive. And without those long luscious locks, I feel vulnerable as if I took away anyones ability to find me desirable. I know it sounds idiotic, but I digress. Sometimes our thoughts aren’t logical.

You may see this as a pity party, but some other factors contribute to this thought process as well. Im getting older. Things are greying. Things are falling. Things will start wrinkling soon. I know those are all visual things, but the rest are emotional, I promise. I’m also in a relationship where I don’t feel appreciated. One that I need to gather the courage to leave. So yes, that answers the question that sometimes us silly people are aware of being in an unfit relationship. But trust me, if I could turn off my emotions like a switch and just walk away I would. But that doesn’t sound like someones who’s open and warm for someone to love them does it? So, for now, my sappy emotions are holding onto something that has so much potential for happiness that it just plain hurts to admit that I’m done putting energy into something that does not work. Not just to the other person, but simply to myself to begin with.

In conclusion, I have a choice to make. I could be sad and lonely and just let this negative thought control my life. Or, I could get angry. Maybe even throw a temper tantrum for the unhealthy upbringing, or every failed relationship, or I can even point the finger at myself. Berate all the bad choices, and just for funsies, start the berating of not coming to my senses sooner so that I can be actively working toward a happy and peaceful future. But, I have even more choices. I can choose to let things teach me something, let it go, and move forward. It’s hard. It takes A LOT of energy and time. It takes vulnerability with a lot of things and people. The hardest being yourself. And fuel myself forward.

Every single day I can choose how to approach my day. How much effort am I going to put in at work? Will I do the small self care things to make sure I feel balanced? Or spend another 15 minutes sleeping because laying under the warm covers that at 5am feel like angels wings is so much easier then bracing the cold morning and shambling through the kitchen to make my coffee.

And even if I don’t start out my morning on a good note, that doesn’t mean the rest of the day is crap and I should just make all the unhealthy choices. Every single moment we get a choice in something. Anything from how we react to a situation, if we volunteer some of our time to make someone else feel special, or how about simply doing those self care things later in the day.

My goal for this year is this. Take some time every day to take care of me in some way. To make decisions that hopefully benefit my future. And if I have a bad day, to just remind myself one thing. Tomorrow is another day.

Hope

As long as there is hope there is a reason to fight. I guess that’s what makes me a romantic at heart.

It is how you move forward. It is how you find the strength to continue. I am not saying it’s not going to be hard. Because it is. You will struggle. With the world, with the environment, but mostly, with yourself.

When I have those brief moments when I feel like there is no hope, I get so depressed I start to ask, why. What is the point? But even then I continue searching.

But give me just the smallest ember of hope, and I will build it into a blazing fire. I know how to coax it life and provide the support needs to grow. I know how to protect it against all the things that want to snuff out the flame giving light to that which once was dark. When it needs fuel to burn I will feed it what it needs, I will watch it dance and learn it’s limits, I will breath my own breath into it’s core to remind it that it’s not alone. That it doesn’t have to face this new world on it’s own. I am here and I will cherish ever moment that passes in your presence.

When you have grown and matured, I will marvel at all your strength and even then continue to encourage. Continue to tell the hope burning bright, “You did it!” And if you tell me, “this dream, this ending, this is not what I wanted.” Then I will help you change to be whatever it is you want it to be. I will show you new hope, and teach you how help it grown into another blazing fire until the world blinds the heavens with it’s dreams  catching a light one by one and creating a new hope within it’s embers.

Live Your Best Life

This is a phrase often said to me by a co-worker who is always trying to encourage me to get more bacon when we order our breakfast from the cafe. She asks me this question all the time. “Are you living your best life?”

Then a couple of days ago I said it to myself when I was arguing in my head if I should go home and make something healthy for dinner or stop for something to eat. Right then I saw how detrimental that phrase could be to my health.

Part of what got me to my highest weight was being able to talk myself into feeding my emotions rather then my body. Bad choices being explained each day always with the promise to do better tomorrow. Even congratulating myself when I did happen to make a healthy choice. But it wasn’t enough. As my ever growing body warned me in so many ways.

Then I started thinking about, what does it mean to live your best life? Certainly not letting your every whim control your diet and/or physical health. But it’s also not the constant life of saying no or feeling guilty for every deliciously fatty morsel that I consume.

Should I congratulate myself every time I go for a walk? Of course! But be realistic. That walk doesn’t equal the calories of a cheeseburger. Let alone the full meal. Should I congratulate myself every time I eat a healthy meal or make a healthier choice? Why, yes I friggen should. But again, be realistic. It doesn’t mean I’m a healthy eater or that one meal of lowered fats means I shouldn’t take that walk after dinner.

What it means is that I need balance. Balance in everything. What we eat, what we do, where we’re spending our money, our free time, all of it. Our entire lives are full of choices to be made that are best made with the mindset of balance. This balancing act can get quite exhausting. Sometimes we get tired, or life throws us a curveball and we revert to things we associate with making us feel better in an attempt to feel better. And ya know what? That’s ok. As long as you don’t get stuck there. Let it go on for a bit, throw your self a pity party, but come back to the life of balance. And find someway to hold yourself accountable. Otherwise, you’ll make it to easy to get lost in the forest of self sooth.

Wanting more

There has always been one constant in my life. Wanting more. Pushing forward. Trying to see what’s beyond my current reality. My adult life has been a series of goals in which I quickly absorb my entire existence for the length in which that goal holds my attention.

Last weekend I woke up without a single objective that needed to be done that day. Without knowing what I needed to accomplish, I felt unsure of where to start. I tried first with the basics. Let out my dog to pee the the backyard, relieve myself, take my daily vitamins, start the day with some water. But after that, there was barely enough to continue the morning. I knew I needed to eat breakfast and that I wanted to keep it as healthy as possible, but without a plan for the day I just couldn’t seem to get myself started. I laid back down in bed, eyes wide open and tried to think. And time passed by until my roommates awoke and immediately asked if I was ok. They are used to my drive and me being in bed at 9am on a Saturday translates to them as, “She must be very sick.” When they saw that I was completely healthy they became even more worried and tried to help me come up with a plan. But there was no laundry to wash, no food to prep, no groceries to buy, I had done it all during the week not realizing that the need to keep busy has started days before the weekend had arrived.

Emotionally, I don’t do well when I’m not being productive. I can relax for about the length of a movie, but right after I need somewhere to be or do. Otherwise I feel off. But it’s not just the day to day stuff. It’s the big picture. I started noticing this a few years ago when I was starting to get my health on track. I was getting up early during the week, protein shake while I dressed, a half hour walk, a shower, then work. While I work I had home made snacks, protein shakes, or a salad. When I got home no matter what the weather was like, I went for a long walk that would take me about an hour to complete. By the time I got back home I had to make dinner which would leave me between a half hour to an hour of TV while I ate my meal before it was time to head to bed.

During this time I felt great for multiple reasons. Firstly, I was finally getting all the crap out of my body. It was summer time and it was the first summer that I never got hot. In fact I spent most of it freezing which was due to the fact that I had cut all sugar out of my diet. I was also eating so clean, that the only carbs I was consuming came from natural fruits and vegetables.

Second, I was moving. The years leading up to the diet were painful. I had slept in a chair  for 5 years because of a muscle in my back that would pull whenever I attempted to lay down on any surface. Walking and eating right had not only shed the pounds, but my core muscles were getting stronger and ever so slowly, I was able to sleep in a bed again. I even noticed how I sat and stood changed. I was more comfortable sitting or standing in positions that I couldn’t even perform when it all started.

But, I think I really enjoyed the structure. The plan I had laid out in front of me allowed no time for pondering the future. There was only the schedule and moving forward. I allowed myself a victory each day which was the moment I would get to the very top of that ridiculously steep hill that I made myself walk twice everyday which would allow me to overlook the city as the sun would start to fade behind the mountains or come up over the opposite mountains. It was such a beautiful site that I was careful never to take for granted. I would let myself stand there for a minute while I caught my breath and take in the colors of either the city coming to life or beginning to wind down for the evening (depending on which walk of the day I was on).

Over the past few years I’ve done the same thing just with a different goal each time. I did with with school, buying a house, work, even when I was sick last year and was on FMLA for two months. That part was the worst because I didn’t know what was going on with me and neither did the Dr.’s. I didn’t know how long it was going to last, I was filled with dread that something really wrong was going on in my body, and I feared I would have to end up in the emergency room before a specialist took me seriously. But I found myself going back to that plan to keep myself from going crazy. Each day I woke up with a plan for my day. I made myself go for walks, make myself breakfast and sit peacefully while drinking a cup of coffee, grow a garden, work on my lawn until it was so green and fluffy, I wanted to lay on it and nap. I paid way to much attention to the weeds, and measured my time with Dr appointments. I kept thinking, “all I have to do is get to the next appointment. They they will have some answers. They will figure out what’s going on with my body and have some easy way to fix to it, making all this drama seem silly. ” That’s not quite how it all ended, but I got a nice tan, my yard looked great, I felt myself getting stronger again, and most importantly, I didn’t go crazy, so, success.

But now, I’m lost again. I have a couple of big goals Im working on, but nothing that needs the amount of attention that I seem to be craving. I’m working on becoming a manager at work, but most of the stuff I need to work on is being nicer when communicating with new people. (Aka don’t be so blunt), and raising enough funds to re-model my kitchen. In fact it’s the whole kitchen thing that got me to thinking. A thought last weekend that floated through my head was this. “So you get a new kitchen in a few months, it’s all new and shiny and the value of your house increases. What then? You can cook, but you haven’t had the attention span to cook in the last few years. So…what’s the end goal. Pretty kitchen? A few extra bucks if you ever decide to sell?” And I felt empty because I had no answer to the “what then”.

Do you ever feel this way? Always wanting more and wondering will it ever be enough?

Why clean eating?

Ok so this is how I see it. I imagine that in my body that there are little workers within my colon that break down the food that I consume. They separate out the nutrients and throw them in the river of my blood stream (like when logs get thrown in the river to travel down stream) to deliver the nutrients to where they are needed. Now, when I eat healthy, I believe that these workers are able to easily identify the food and therefore makes it easier for them to break it down by knowing what nutrients are being introduced and then getting it shipped off to where it’s needed. Then quickly dumping the rest into the garbage shoot that is our butt. I know it’s gross, but we all do it.

When I eat processed food I picture these little workers staring at it for a long time. Trying to figure out what it is, how to break it down, what it’s made of, what nutrients they could pull from it, and when there’s a lot of saturate fats, I think of it as being super hard to work with or the nutrients being covered in a black oil that they just can’t get off. So they end up shipping off the nutrients covered in that oil and spreading the oily fats throughout my body.

FYI, I’m not crazy. I don’t believe there are actual little people in my body, this visualization just helps me try to understand the purpose of it all. Which really helps me in most things I do.

Anywho, so I think this is also why when I’m eating clean that I can go from “I’m fine” to “I need to eat RIGHT now” in nothing flat. If it’s easier for you body to identify the food and break it down faster, then you need to eat more often. Protein helps slow down this process so that you absorb more nutrients. And again, I imagine this as being attributed to being covered in oils. Except this time, some healthy oils that make the river slick so that the nutrients can move easier and push through sections that have collected some rubbage. Even breaking up some of that rubbage so that it can be moved out of the body too.

Zucchini Pizza

So a few days ago I came across a zucchini pizza dough recipe and I’ve really been wanting to try it. I bought two reusable nut milking bags (which sound weird and gross because I’m mature). So, finally this morning after waking up early because I don’t really sleep well, I shredded 4 large zucchini’s and made 3 personal size pizza doughs to feed me and my roommates. I added Italian seasoning, garlic powder, onion flakes, and some salt . To I mine I added a little kicked chicken to give it a little kick. I’ll just tell you now that I forgot to add any binders so we didn’t really get to eat it like a pizza, but instead scraped the whole thing onto a plate and ate it with a fork. Then bake it on a silicone sheet. FYI, even if you have what you think is the best non-stick pan, the dough will stick. The dough on the silicone sheet was easy to remove.

I am still trying to eat clean so I tried to keep the pizza as healthy as possible. The sauce was a light pesto with some ranch seasoning, some cheese, followed by some left over chicken from this week, broccoli, olives, and roasted garlic that I roasted myself (for the first time). Then sprinkled with some parmesan and balsamic vinegar. I was really surprised that everyone fell in love with this pizza. I believe their words were, “Wow that “stuff” is good.” We will be sure to make it again. I was also surprised about how easy it was to make.

Once everything was in the oven cooking I looked at all the left over zucchini juice that I had left over and pondered what to do with it. I decided to try to make a protein shake out of it. I added a lot of frozen berries (to make the drink cold without watering it down), about a cup of zucchini juice, and some banana extract. I’ve shared this picture with all of you to show the cool ombre effect it had once it was done, and there are no words to describe how good this drink is. I want to make it everyday now, but I don’t know where I would get that much zucchini juice. I mean, I can’t eat pizza everyday.