Weighless!

Yep… Not a misprint I actually typed weighless not weightloss! And no I am not making a New Years Resolution, in fact I’m not making any again this year for the second year in a row – I know right?! Shock! Horror!! * Insert gasping, constipated-looking face here* Here’s why it’s not a typing error…..

As my close friends and family know (and followers may have guessed) I am a weight obsessed Superwoman. I live it, I breath it, I obsess over it and I talk about it constantly which makes me heaps of fun to be around – especially to all those special voices in my head! I compare myself, I judge myself and I am constantly jealous of other peoples bodies/willpower/motivation. Put a piece of cake under my nose on a Monday morning once I’ve started my “newest” diet and I will say no but I can guarantee by 12 o’clock that very same day I’ll be banging down your door like some psyched out door-knocker who hasn’t made a sale in 14 months begging for you to push that piece of cake through the holes in the fly screen before I starve to death! Once I’m done licking that last bit of sugar-filled-artificially-sweetened-but-not-vine-ripened-or-raw-ingredient-filled cake off the door I will stress over the extra calories I’ve consumed until I am so overwhelmed that I have to go and weigh myself before I have a kilojoule induced anxiety attack. Then out comes the perfection bat, shiny and solid gold and ready to beat the shit out of anything it desires. And so it does. It beats the absolute bejeezers out of me until I’m completely emptied of any confidence ensuring I retreat to the fridge with the hope of tomorrow being a better day.

At other times in my life when I’ve been exercise mad I still managed to be obsessed with my magic number. It never showed up. I would get excited like a criminal whose seen car keys idling in the ignition of a BMW with no-one in the drivers seat. Only to be bitterly disappointed when a big drooling growl comes at you from a man eating horse dog from the back seat. There’s always the hope that the number has gone down overnight and it would change my life. And sadly I’ve often thought that my “chosen” number would actually change my life. But instead all those stupid little digits have completely controlled my life by determining my mood each and every day. If the numbers are down – I’m happy, bouncing around with a thousand springs in my step. If it’s the same as the day before I’m emotionless, partially flatlined and I’m feeling a little disappointed. But if those numbers have gone up, even slightly…. Well… Look out!! The cranky bitch emerges from this sweet little face to fuck everyones day up!

But…. And it’s a big but….
I like to see progress in life, changes, moving forward. Starting this blog has made me look back on my life without my rose coloured glasses on. I’ve had to take a real hard long look at myself and I gotta say it kinda hurt… Not physically but emotionally not to mention the pain on my pride. But I can acknowledge and accept now that I have lived my life based on my weight, on a set a scales and that bloody double digit number on those said set of scales! I’ve been especially weight obsessed since having babies (which is almost 16 years now) but I do remember, prior to populating the earth with my spawn, that I was generally self-conscious and insecure about my body.

Enlightenment came the other day when I was at my friends house. What she said left me shocked and in a state of disbelief. She told me that not every Superwoman in the world weighs herself each day. Even more shocking is that this friend actually had no idea what she weighed and couldn’t remember the last time she had stepped on the set scales. It completely blew my mind and once it had finished blowing my mind it left me with an idea…. A challenge that will impact me in ways I can’t even begin to imagine. My challenge is a big one and maybe I’ve set the bar too high or maybe my issues will resolve prior to the challenge ending but either way I’m going to share this journey with anyone who wants to join me, watch me in amazement or amusement and for those who might want to encourage me… Please!!!

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So the challenge I’ve set myself is this … For 365 days starting the 31st December 2013 (remembering it’s not a NY Resolution) I will NOT step foot, toe or handstand on a set of scales. For a whole year I will not know what I weigh, I will not be able to create an emotional day based on what number did or did not show up on the scales that morning and I will not have anything to talk about obsessively. My focus will instead be on life. You know like actually living it! I’ve set this challenge and put it out to the world now and it’s a little exciting to think I may be able to break up with the love/hate of my life. But for now I have to go. I told my husband and mum this morning of my plans for the 365 days of 2014 and they are still on the floor laughing! Best go roll them over so they don’t get piles!

One love
DRK xxx

PS -Goodluck ME!!

Waiting is the hardest part…

I found this document today as I was browsing through my computer. It was written during the waiting period from a High Risk diagnosis of my 12 week pregnancy test to my amniocentesis. Looking back with a lot more clarity I can honestly say that I knew all along something wasn’t right. I think I knew right from my first positive pregnancy test. Call it mothers instinct or gut instinct, coincidence whatever I just knew something didn’t feel right….

“I see it as clear as day. I just opened my eyes and there it is in all its energetic glory, just waiting, patiently, for me to wake up and see it. For some time now the darkness has been all-encompassing and it’s been hard to see anything at all except for the make-believe shadows appearing in and out of the darkness. You know the formula though – it’s been said a million times before – there is always light at the end of the tunnel. Well fortunately for me the long winding tunnel seems to be coming to an end and the light is now infusing itself into the very core of my being. I don’t even bother to look around, especially not behind, as I know that will not do me any good, also because I am a little frightened that the darkness might try and pull me back in.

 I’ve been waiting, we’ve been waiting, weeks! Six long weeks to be precise. Or 42 days, 1008 hours or 60480 minutes for the results. Waiting all this time has become some scary internal rollercoaster ride I didn’t want to get on in the first place. Yet here I am sitting white knuckled – gripping on to anything and everything in complete and utter fear and frustration at how on earth I ever came to be here. All the while I am praying to a God, any God, to stop the ride. I am begging for it to stop! All I’ve been able to do is close my eyes and silently scream because my breath has been taken away and my voice is lost within me. I know that no matter how hard I scream for the ride to end the rollercoaster-ride-controller isn’t going to stop just for me  because the whole damn world is on the ride with me.

 Looking back I am amazed I have come through this relatively unscathed. I can look in the mirror and to anyone else in the world I look the same. Possibly only affected with deeper and darker circles under my eyes and a few extra grey hairs lurking beneath the bleached blonde hair but both can be rectified. Now we only have 2 days to go and we will know, know for sure (though there are no 100% guarantees with anything anymore and if, in the unlikely case there is, it usually comes with a 247 page contract on the conditions that apply*). It’s actually less than 2 days; it’s precisely just 42 hours until we find out which way our path is headed. Either path isn’t that pretty or easy but at least we can clear the shit along the way and not trip up too much.

You would think with all the technology available in today’s society that waiting for results would be a 2 minute affair but it isn’t and waste my energy complaining about it is too much time and energy wasted. I don’t feel I have much left in me but I know there is light surrounding me now and I believe it is time to embrace and not fear the unknown. Our little boy will be born alive on earth or born with wings to take him to heaven and for each moment left together as one and for each moment longer together with me I am truly grateful. He has chosen me to carry him in this world for as long as he sees fit and if the results show he chooses not to stay long then it will be ok. We will be ok. He will be ok. I will be ok.

  (Written before my amniocentesis for Chevy)”

During our amniocentesis we were told our ‘bean’ was a boy, that he hadn’t developed properly leaving his bowels outside of his body. This, put together with our initial blood tests results, all pointed to a diagnosis of Trisomy 18. Meaning he would likely die inutero or not live long after birth. To say we were devastated is an understatement. I remember walking to the car after the amnio. My husband started the engine and then he broke down. I had never seen this man cry before … ever… and with my own heart breaking I made the call to my parents to let them know the results. It was the most pain filled moment my heart had ever felt.

But I haven’t chosen to post this story on Christmas Eve to make people feel sad. I have posted it because we had a happy ending. Happier than we could of ever thought possible. On January 21st, after my placenta had stopped functioning, I gave birth to a beautiful boy all 2.1kg (4lb 10oz) of him. He was born with an Omphalcele, Hypospadias and two holes in his heart. But he is now a healthy, normal, almost-four-year-old who is sweet, kind and the love of our lives. I’ve chosen to post this because sometimes when unhappy people, for whatever reason, see so much happiness around them it can sometimes make the darkness seem darker and more fearful. Thats how I felt. I could feel the world still turning beneath my feet and watching the lives of my family and friends still be filled with happiness and joy had left me feeling beaten.  But with time things change. The darkness softens and if you open your heart a little ray of light can become a big warming beam of light which can then pierce the darkest corners of your world.

So to those who are truly happy please keep your own hearts open and remember this is the time of giving – not of presents but of presence. Someone may need you more than you know. And to those in the darkness, hold on, we are coming to get you – we have our torches and we have our hearts full of love, we cannot save you but we can show you the way.

One Love

DRK xxx

Memory Jar: Chapter One

A different perspective can change the life that you lead and the life that you think you lead. You and I could be looking at the exact same picture, the same person, the same portrait of a family but it’s unlikely that we will see it the same at all.

Like the business-suited man, out for lunch with his boss. He’s chosen the restaurant and desperately wants to impress. The bosses meal arrives and the business suited man sees the $45 steak as too thin, lacking seasoning, topped with wilted garnish and side serve of soggy chips. Yet a homeless person standing outside sees that steak as the most mouthwatering and exciting meal he’s probably had in years, maybe ever! In fact I bet they’d be the best damn chips he’s ever eaten too!

A woman whose just had her third child has caught her reflection in a window. She sees a rotund belly, stretch marks across her abdomen and saggy boobs – she feels her body has been ruined and she hates herself. Yet a slim, perky lady walking past sees this as a beautiful woman, one who is glowing and she sees her as lucky. Lucky because her body granted her three gorgeous kids to love and grow together through life. This slim perky lady has had IVF five times in five years resulting in two early losses and three failed attempts. She would give anything to have stretch marks on her stomach.

I know that we can’t live in other peoples shoes for our entire lifetimes but we can, once in awhile, stop and be completely grateful for whatever it is in our life that we don’t truly appreciate. It’s this time of the year when gratitude plays it’s biggest cards but it can also be a time of loneliness and heartache for others.

So to chose gratitude over despair I made a conscious decision last year to not make any New Years Resolutions. Not because I lack ambition (ahem or do I?) but because I didn’t want to end my year on disappointment. I have had the same New Year Resolutions for as long as I can remember yet I can’t remember any one in particular that I’ve succeeded at. So instead of setting myself up for a beating this year I instead made a Memory Jar. I can tell you with all honesty that it’s not bursting out of the seams and not because we didn’t have great memories but because life just got busy (and clearly some days weeks months I just forgot it was there).

I can’t wait to pop the lid of my Memory Jar on New Years Eve and have a laugh at the funny things I’ve already forgotten and get warm-fuzzy feelings all over. I’m then going paste each memory into a book and so will create the first chapter of my Memory Jar Book. Chapter Two – 2014!!!

So I encourage you too to throw away those resolutions Superwomen of the world! Start and finish your year on a high which will deliver less despair, struggles and beating yourself up during the in-between days of the year. Even if you end up with just a few memories that make you smile, a few that make you laugh out loud and a heart full of gratitude isn’t that better than the long list of resolutions you have to sit down and makes excuses for?!

One Love,
DRK xxx

Puppeteers, Tennis and My Dirty Red Knickers

I am a Superwoman whose defined herself by her past. Whether its by guilt or by shame I’m a complex form of webs and lines that I’ve tangled into a knot. I have moments of enlightenment and peace where I can say I’ve forgiven myself, that I have moved on and have accepted that version of me. Sometimes I will find myself saying, out loud, that I’m ok with all the highly stupid things I did, with the crazy often dangerous choices I made but deep down I’m really saying “Are you serious? Get yourself a tissue you’re dribbling shit all over the place!” Just because I say it doesn’t mean I believe it – I’m still in the trying-to-convince-myself phase.

Being from a relatively small city first impressions can last a lifetime. It can feel like it is holding you back from moving on with the rest of your life, like you’ve been strung up like a puppet where those people who only remember the ‘you‘ from the past become your puppeteers. In fact it’s like a game of tennis but it’s always 40-love – they’re winning… It begins when they hit the ball filled with judgments and assumptions, it’s coming directly for you so your reaction is immediate and your inner warrior and defense mechanisms are activated. You swing and you hit the ball back as mighty as you can …. And so the game begins and then continues until someone puts the racket down and walks away …. There have been many times when I’ve made the decision to stop playing. Where I’ve put it down and walked away. But damn if that game is not addictive!

Realistically though the only game being played is a guilt game… With myself. One where I am convinced that they actually have a valid point of view and that their opinion of the naughty selfish girl from the past still exists. In all honesty it’s none of my business what they think, if they think that at all. I can’t say sorry to the world for the rest of my life for being a rebellious teenager. It really is a ridiculous game I’ve been playing for such a long time. The decisions I made back then essentially made me who I am today – that I am grateful for not embarrassed about.

My biggest regrets lie in not being a better sister and for not telling my brother I loved him before he died – but then love isn’t a word it’s a feeling and no matter what beliefs I have in the afterlife or heaven and earth I know without any doubt that he would of felt my love. He would known that even though it was unsaid my love was there. It always was, it always will be.

I am a Superwoman but I bleed all the same. My heart hurts and I have made many mistakes. But being a Superwoman means you’ve had to experience the bad to truly understand and be grateful for the good. You’ve had to rip your cape a few times on the fall from grace but it’s nothing a needle and thread won’t fix. And so another journey of self forgiveness enters my life and I’m going to hitch my dirty red knickers up a little higher and a little prouder! Damn it’s like dental floss in there but I’m proud of where I came from and who I’ve become and so should all of you!

One love,
DRK xxx

Same Shit Different Vagina

On my newsfeed daily all I see is other peoples perceptions of beautiful women. There are continuous debates on what we should look like and discussions on what beauty should look like. Maybe, just maybe, we could all stop judging each other on our external portraits. If we are happy within ourselves why should we give a damn what the media photographs as fat or thin or what the rich and famous strive desperately to be or what anyone else’s term of beautiful means to them.

More importantly than whether we own a six pack or a pot belly is that we are living our lives the way we love to, with good intentions and a kind heart. The status of “perfection” is heartbreaking for those who have to live up to that title and for those who think they will never be anything because they aren’t that.

Beauty isn’t about being a certain size in clothing or how big your bras are. It’s not about the name brand that is stitched onto what we wear. Beauty isn’t about being a bitch to people or about being successful. Beauty is a feeling that is broadcast on the outside. It’s a confidence that you carry when you are happy, truly happy, within yourself! This is what makes a truly successful Superwoman. This is what makes her beautiful. A deep hearted laugh and a genuine glowing smile are the most beautiful things in the world! When I am confident that is when I am most vibrant and that is when I feel amazing! It also happens to be when people will compliment me – because it radiates. It’s contagious and it’s real!

I believe that it’s time that we all put the magazines down and walk away. Turn off those damn TVs and simply stop judging one another. Stop feeling good or bad because someone is fatter or thinner than you. Stop teaching our daughters that they have to be beautiful or super talented to be an asset to the world. Stop teaching our sons that a “beautiful looking” woman is the only woman of substance for his life. There’s no medal at the end of this ride of life and there is no headstone that will read “She died as a ‘beautiful looking’ woman” to go with that medal. We are all our own worst enemies with the definition of beauty being over-analysed by too many. At the end of the day we all are women. We all shit the same, wear a vagina and we will all leave our bodies behind once we die – no matter what your beliefs are!

So just be happy all of my amazing Superwomen – we are alive and we are breathing! There is nothing faulty about us! And as a gorgeous friend once told me – this is just skin to keep our insides in! Probably the truest quote I’ve ever had said to me!

One love,
DRK xxx

Villains and Superheroes

Life generally lays down some petty and trivial looking hurdles when things are running smoothly! This little offering of challenges comes along just to remind us that we are alive and living! They are also there to teach us about our judgement and strength of character. So when someone I have had to completely remove any expectations from for almost two decades chooses to use a sentence structure on me saying “I’m disappointed in you…” I find I must quickly and violently bite my tongue! Instantly, of course, I realize that it fucken hurts and not because his words actually mean anything to me or to my feelings but because I actually had to physically bite my tongue to stop myself retaliating like a crazed-psycho-woman! But let’s be honest here, I am also disappointed! I’ve been disappointed for years! But not in myself or in him – I’m just disappointed that a kick-arse meteor hasn’t plummeted out of the sky and landed on this douche bags head – just like the boulders that get ole’ Wile E. Coyote with love from the Roadrunner – I don’t want to hurt him but maybe it would knock some sense into him! But yes he is disappointed in me?! I’d love to show him what disappointment looks like, in fact someone get me a mirror so I can hold it up for him!!

I do know that as an enlightened Superwoman being kind and sweet to people and getting along with everyone, holding hands and singing koombayah is a natural ability but seriously … And I mean this in the nicest possible way this person is a so far away from any type of ‘superness’ that it makes me wonder how he’s even breathing! In fact this person is like the villain in my comic book story. Everyone has at least one villain. Some have more than others and some will deny they have any at all. Some of them are in our lives to challenge us, some to test our character and our beliefs but some are just here to remind us how lucky we are not to be born with a big ‘L’ on our forehead!

The best thing about being a superhero though is at the end of the story – unless I am injected with kryptonite, brain washed and then tortured with a feather – I am pretty well guaranteed that I’ll remain on the right side of “good”. When a Superhero vs. a Villain you know the Superhero will be the defending champion, the one who proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that good conquers evil every time. Not with their ego but with their ability to forgive, accept and move on. So, being a disappointment to this ‘bad guy’ really means about as much as one cent does in a candy store – once upon a time it would of bought him something now it’s not worth the bubblegum you’ve stepped on.

I know that villains and superheroes, fairy tales and fables are all just “stories” and this is not the end of the story with my villain but it’s certainly a chapter closed and another lesson learned! But it doesn’t help the fact that I should probably go get some ice on my tongue … Before I bleed out!

One love,
DRK xx