Contrary to popular belief, I hate yelling. More specifically, I hate being the one that has to do the yelling. I used to be a big fan of yelling, back when I drank like a fish and couldn't see what a fucking train wreck I was turning into. But now, thanks to quitting drinking, therapy, and medication, I just...don't yell.
But goddammit if two people haven't pushed me to the point of yelling this month. And not even a shouted sentence or two, a full-on, lung-bending, blood-boiling, black-out RANT. I don't even know what the fuck is going on with the universe right now. This month alone, I've had to cut four people out of my life. I'm not as into astrology as I used to be. Are we under the star of douchebaggery or something right now?
Only one of these losses truly makes me sad. That would be my surrogate mother-in-law, who reacted to my olive branch by alienating me in cliche form. Yeah, the same one I wrote a love letter about a couple weeks ago. Chosen family is only family until you're under the influence of a lie, then they're disposable family. Oh well. A new alpha fag has been chosen, and a new surrogate mother-in-law will come in time.
I hate that I feel such a strong need to have that sort of a relationship with someone in my life at all times. At 30, I still don't feel like much of a grown-up. Adult matters make me feel like Bambi on wobbly legs. I don't need someone to baby me or to do things for me, I just want someone who's been doing this grown-up thing for awhile to be my friend and well...I guess a mentor, of sorts.
But back to yelling. It sucks. It makes my head hurt. The adrenaline rush usually renders me useless for 5-10 minutes, then once it dies down, thus begins the withdrawal migraine. I yelled last night and actually woke up with a sore throat today. WTF? But physical shit aside, it's just so unseemly. It shouldn't be necessary, ever, but sadly, it is.
I guess I should just be grateful that I've ceased being a doormat, and that I'll actually stand up for myself now. That's major progress. I suppose this is the inevitable backlash, though--after spending so many years of running from conflict or just trying to smooth things over, I suppose it's only natural that upon waking up, I come out roaring.
p.s. I have a new fatkini! Springs trip tomorrow--hopefully I'll have some pics then!
That which doesn't kill you is likely to piss you the hell off.
28 May 2011
15 May 2011
FATKINI.
I've had a really rough, busy few weeks. Sorry about the lack of updates. There's so much that's happened/is still happening. Mostly good things. One really viciously bad thing. But I don't want to talk about it.
So what do I want to talk about?
MY NEW FATKINI.
Yep. I bought a bikini from loveyourpeaches.com. I've been considering it forever and decided to go ahead and take the leap. $90 is a lot to spend on a swimsuit of any sort, but my husband said it was totally fine with him as long as I wore it more than once.
Ha.
I've been living in that thing. So far, it's seen three trips to the springs, one trip to Reed Bingham state park, and a trip to Jenny's pool. After all these years of "hiding my shame" in a one-piece or tankini, I could never, ever go back. First and foremost, a bikini is infinitely more comfortable than any of the other options currently available for plus-size women. Easy access when you have to pee. No carrying heavy layers of wet lycra/spandex around with you when you get out of the water. No standing there, wringing your suit out, looking like you're peeing, before you can walk from one place to another. Cool breezes on the tummy.
I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. Honestly, I don't think I ever would have gone through with it were it not for my fibromyalgia diagnosis. I've finally hit the "anger" stage. I'm not mad at "god", because that's pointless. "Why me" makes no sense to me. Why not me? What makes me so damn special that I'm supposed to be immune from life's slings and arrows? And I'm certainly not mad at my body. It's doing the best it can. I'm just...angry. Angry that I'm going to hurt for the rest of my life, and that it's likely going to get worse. I know that the longer I keep my big ass in motion, the better my chances of retaining my mobility are. I just received my first cane in the mail yesterday, and while it's all pretty and blue and happy-looking, ordering it certainly drove home the point that I've got to start really living and enjoying my two working human legs right now.
I'm sort of...throwing myself at life. Yeah, that's a difficult proposition for an agoraphobic, but it's gradually getting easier to get out and do things. I want to do as much as I can, while I can. And if I never lose my mobility, well, good for me...I've led a full life.
So that brings me back to the bikini. My awesome friend Brandy let me borrow one of hers for a summer when I was 15, but I only wore it when we'd go swimming in my neighbor's pool. I bought one on clearance when I was 18, but only wore it to the beach when I was going with 1-2 good girlfriends. I've never just put on a bikini and strutted my ass down to the nearest large puddle. Age 15? I was a size 16. Age 18? Size 18. At 30, I'm a size 24, and have infinitely more confidence than I did as a teenager. I think I'm more attractive now because of it. Oddly enough, other people seem to feel the same way about it. Every single time I've been to the springs in my bikini (with my pink hair and tattoos and piercings), people have felt the need to talk to me. Complimenting my hair/tats/etc., asking random questions, commiserating about the icy-cold water...and sometimes, I happen to lock eyes with someone and get the biggest grin, which is contagious and leaves me grinning, too. Something about being so purposely visible draws positive attention. I haven't seen or heard any heckling, pointing and laughing, or any negativity directed towards me. Either nobody's hating, or the haters have the good sense to closet themselves. I mean, you all know I'm a kitten in wolves' clothing, but they don't know that. I look like I could do some damage.
It feels really amazing to go to my favorite place and swim and paddle around completely unfettered. Madison Blue Springs is a vital part of my therapy, mental and physical. It's beautiful, it's peaceful, and I've always been a water baby. Water is calm and comfort to me. The river is swimming and floating, warm and cold currents, rocks and slime, a constant game of paddling or balancing or finding new and creative ways to anchor myself to a foam pool noodle. And yep, it's actual exercise too. Twice a week of all that has got to be good for me. My skin is golden. The spring itself is bravery in the face of icy water, floating and looking at the perfect circle of trees above my head while the cold water reduces the inflammation in my back. Putting on goggles to stare at the fish and letting my imagination wander through everything that could be down in the cave below.
It really is complete and total freedom to do all these things that I love and that heal my mind and body in ultimate comfort and without an ounce of shame. It's one of the things that's going very, very right in my life right now.
Want your own fatkini? Hit up Janelle at www.loveyourpeaches.com. There's several styles of tops and bottoms available. I chose the bandeau top with the bow in the skulls print with red trim, and the high-waisted boy shorts, also in skull print with a red waistband. Both pieces fit perfectly, and are incredibly well-made. I'm a 42DD, and the top is actually supportive enough to not need an underwire! Janelle provides awesome customer service, too. I highly recommend Love Your Peaches, and when I wear this fatkini out, I'll be back for another.
So what do I want to talk about?
MY NEW FATKINI.
Yep. I bought a bikini from loveyourpeaches.com. I've been considering it forever and decided to go ahead and take the leap. $90 is a lot to spend on a swimsuit of any sort, but my husband said it was totally fine with him as long as I wore it more than once.
Ha.
I've been living in that thing. So far, it's seen three trips to the springs, one trip to Reed Bingham state park, and a trip to Jenny's pool. After all these years of "hiding my shame" in a one-piece or tankini, I could never, ever go back. First and foremost, a bikini is infinitely more comfortable than any of the other options currently available for plus-size women. Easy access when you have to pee. No carrying heavy layers of wet lycra/spandex around with you when you get out of the water. No standing there, wringing your suit out, looking like you're peeing, before you can walk from one place to another. Cool breezes on the tummy.
I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. Honestly, I don't think I ever would have gone through with it were it not for my fibromyalgia diagnosis. I've finally hit the "anger" stage. I'm not mad at "god", because that's pointless. "Why me" makes no sense to me. Why not me? What makes me so damn special that I'm supposed to be immune from life's slings and arrows? And I'm certainly not mad at my body. It's doing the best it can. I'm just...angry. Angry that I'm going to hurt for the rest of my life, and that it's likely going to get worse. I know that the longer I keep my big ass in motion, the better my chances of retaining my mobility are. I just received my first cane in the mail yesterday, and while it's all pretty and blue and happy-looking, ordering it certainly drove home the point that I've got to start really living and enjoying my two working human legs right now.
I'm sort of...throwing myself at life. Yeah, that's a difficult proposition for an agoraphobic, but it's gradually getting easier to get out and do things. I want to do as much as I can, while I can. And if I never lose my mobility, well, good for me...I've led a full life.
So that brings me back to the bikini. My awesome friend Brandy let me borrow one of hers for a summer when I was 15, but I only wore it when we'd go swimming in my neighbor's pool. I bought one on clearance when I was 18, but only wore it to the beach when I was going with 1-2 good girlfriends. I've never just put on a bikini and strutted my ass down to the nearest large puddle. Age 15? I was a size 16. Age 18? Size 18. At 30, I'm a size 24, and have infinitely more confidence than I did as a teenager. I think I'm more attractive now because of it. Oddly enough, other people seem to feel the same way about it. Every single time I've been to the springs in my bikini (with my pink hair and tattoos and piercings), people have felt the need to talk to me. Complimenting my hair/tats/etc., asking random questions, commiserating about the icy-cold water...and sometimes, I happen to lock eyes with someone and get the biggest grin, which is contagious and leaves me grinning, too. Something about being so purposely visible draws positive attention. I haven't seen or heard any heckling, pointing and laughing, or any negativity directed towards me. Either nobody's hating, or the haters have the good sense to closet themselves. I mean, you all know I'm a kitten in wolves' clothing, but they don't know that. I look like I could do some damage.
 |
| I'm on the right. Age 15. Thought I was too hideously fat to have anyone but Brandy see me like this. WTF, Julie. |
It feels really amazing to go to my favorite place and swim and paddle around completely unfettered. Madison Blue Springs is a vital part of my therapy, mental and physical. It's beautiful, it's peaceful, and I've always been a water baby. Water is calm and comfort to me. The river is swimming and floating, warm and cold currents, rocks and slime, a constant game of paddling or balancing or finding new and creative ways to anchor myself to a foam pool noodle. And yep, it's actual exercise too. Twice a week of all that has got to be good for me. My skin is golden. The spring itself is bravery in the face of icy water, floating and looking at the perfect circle of trees above my head while the cold water reduces the inflammation in my back. Putting on goggles to stare at the fish and letting my imagination wander through everything that could be down in the cave below.
It really is complete and total freedom to do all these things that I love and that heal my mind and body in ultimate comfort and without an ounce of shame. It's one of the things that's going very, very right in my life right now.
Want your own fatkini? Hit up Janelle at www.loveyourpeaches.com. There's several styles of tops and bottoms available. I chose the bandeau top with the bow in the skulls print with red trim, and the high-waisted boy shorts, also in skull print with a red waistband. Both pieces fit perfectly, and are incredibly well-made. I'm a 42DD, and the top is actually supportive enough to not need an underwire! Janelle provides awesome customer service, too. I highly recommend Love Your Peaches, and when I wear this fatkini out, I'll be back for another.
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