You don't get this fat without trauma!

I am almost 40. I am the fattests I have ever been, I am in pain and I feel sick 98% of the time.

I've been thinking a lot about trauma lately. My trauma is why I am who I am, I am me because of the painful, hurtful and difficult life experiences I have had.

I have trauma, I am a cis white woman with trauma (my judisam and lesbianism are not visible) everybody responds differently to trauma. I feed mine with food, food in large quantities, not neccesarily unhealthy food, but a lot of it.

I was a normal sized baby, not until 3rd grade did I balloon. I blame adults, adults who were supposed to be there to teach me, but instead unloaded their trauma on me.  I attended a Hebrew day school from pre-K to 3rd grade. I was blonde, I was slight, I was kind and loving, and I had a modeling career that my non accredited teachers were not too fond of. They did not like me and they did not like my mother, and I was punished for it. I was not treated like everyone else, I was singeled out for no reason, I was treated with disdane and punished for no reason, other than I was empathetic, emotional and easily made to feel insignificant. Even now I remember my teachers being unkind because they could. I was not a bad student, I did not misbehave-what I did do wrong is react when I felt I was being treated unjustly and I was taught that my emotions and my feelings and my responses to being treated unjustly were over-the-top, uncalled for and over dramatic. Here is where I will be told I'm wrong. But here is the thing, I switched schools between third and fourth grade. I went from a private Hebrew day school to a public school. Where instead of being treated differently, instead of being treated with disdane I was supported, I was approached with kindness, I was helped through difficult things and I made strides, I stopped "crying at the drop of a hat" I stopped "having Meltdowns for no reason"

 Jamie and I are starting on the road to becoming foster parents. Fear and trauma are a very significant part of training.

Why ya gotta give me a label?

I have many labels, I usually don't subscribe to that whole label thing. Especially if you are trying to categorize me. But here is one that I just recently found out could apply to me. Generation Y, apparently what makes me a generation Y is the fact I wear flip flops to work, don't want work to be my life and appear to the "older generations" as selfish, neurotic, disrespectful and too smart for my own good. In 2005 USA Today said this "Unlike the generations that have gone before them, Gen Y has been pampered, nurtured and programmed with a slew of activities since they were toddlers, meaning they are both high-performance and high-maintenance, Tulgan says. They also believe in their own worth." Here is my thought....who the hell cares, and why does that matter. Since I can remember every generation has been hit with a label. Baby Boomers, Gen X, and now Gen Y. AND, the labels are randomly selected by the media who just happens to be the generation before. I have a novel idea....why not just stop giving the generations labels. I am my own person who might wear flip flops to work....will work my ass off "during work hours" and shows respect to everyone...even someone who might be below me on the totem pole. The fact I don't want my work to be my life is because IT ISN'T....you are who you are, not what you do. I think the older generations could learn a thing or two from us. If I'm having a meeting I will show up in a suit and I will like it, but if I'm filing papers, answering phones, book keeping or whatever else you might be doing in the 9-5 work force, why can't I be comfortable? Is it because "that's the way it has always been done?" GUESS what, I'm here to change the way it has always been done.

At it again

It's like a horrible cycle. I just want to scream and throw things around. Pay attention to me. What the hell has changed? I don't know, but I can feel it. I'm not ignorant. I'm done, if this is how it is going to be then you need to give me time to adjust. I spent almost two years not being treated like what I was, now in less than a week I am being treated as such. You can't even say that isn't confusing.

words put together

Im not a sensitive Baby

But I sure know how to cry

You would call me a regular girl

with a few irregular, tendencies.

I see the truth in lies, i can find them in your eye's

You see me broken, but that's just a shell, underneath

the power is there. But you refuse to see it.

You've underestimated me from the start

I don't lead with my heart

My blank stare is not stupidity

it's marveling at you unwittingly

I can hear things in your voice,

you give me no choice. I answer right back.

It's not a defense, to voice what I lack.

That's the bottom line

So I began to get frustrated

Yes, I said began. But what I really mean is "I am really fucking frustrated."

We can all pretty much agree that I have had every conceivable shitty boss in the know universe, yes I know I am not alone in this respect. I have no delusions that I am the only person on earth who has had a shit ton of crap boss's and I am sure that somewhere there are even shittier boss's than my formers but come on. This is me I am talking about, I'm narcissistic without being selfish, how else could I berate myself as much as I do if I wasn't narcissistic (side note).

Now, back to our originally scheduled blog. I think I have a problem...scratch that- I know I have a problem. Let me first say, I love my job right now, I love my boss right now. But every few weeks I have this overwhelming feeling that she is annoyed with my presence, that I have done something wrong, or not done something at all, and I fucking hate it. It make me so angry, I start over thinking things, I get that feeling I'm going to be fired. I go over every little thing I think it could be, it borders on OCD. Then it switches-I didn't do anything wrong, I did everything I was supposed to do and I didn't forget anything. I wish I could say this is where it ended, but no. Then the really bad shit starts- screw it if I did, if I messed up she should tell me so I could fix it. I don't fucking care anymore. It's maddening.

Perhaps this is because I care so much, perhaps it is because she tells me she miss' me when I am on vacation or she is on set/location for a few days. Perhaps because it is not a normal employer/employee relationship. I swore after working at the real estate office I would never socially mix with my immediate boss, well I've already failed on this count. My girlfriend calls my boss "the other woman." That's weird, isn't it?

Maybe my emotional sponge is also to blame, when she feels frustrated and angry I feel frustrated and angry. When she is in a good mood, I am is a good mood. Maybe this is where my fault lies.

Sense Memory

Yesterday was exhausting, Grams was admitted to St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica in the early hours of Sunday morning. I of course did not hear anything about it until 6:15 Sunday night, and it gets worse. The only time in 10 years my phone has not been in an audible distance, and I don't check it until 10:30pm, and I was stuck with nothing to possibly do till Monday morning. By that time...it was 1:30 am on the East Coast-I didn't want to wake my mother, and I wasn't about to call the Hospital at that time either. So I took care of everything, Monday morning am...and went to see my Grams. I guess yesterdays events took me to today's "truth"...

In the car this morning, on my 20 minute (lovely) commute to work...I turned on K-Earth 101.1....yes I like the oldies but they also have a traffic report unlike my go to Jack FM...while I was listening to the traffic report I was transported back to the days of my youth. See, while my Grams and almost the entire rest of my family lived here in Los Angeles, my immediate family lived in our states Capitol. SACRAMENTO...ugh. My parents sent me to LA during the summer months to spend time with Grams, every morning at the butt crack Grams would get me up, get me dressed and we would make the hour long commute from her condo in Encino to Mort's Palisades Deli, where she worked with her Brother, Mort (my great uncle), as the Deli's book keeper. Every morning grams would have N.P.R playing on the radio. This morning, as I am listening to the traffic report, the 405 and 118 both backed up. I got this sense, it felt like it did on those mornings back in the late 80's. Cool, crisp, sunny...but this time, the overwhelming sense that I was safe and taken care of, was gone. It was replaced with the knowledge that nothing ever stays the same- that you in fact do get to "return the favor", that now...it's my turn.

In the Comments Section

I troll the internet looking for interesting peoplescentric stories almost everyday. Even though I know better, even though I know where it will lead, I always make my way down to the comment section to see everybody else's take.

Big Mistake...let's ignore the assholes who post ad's for "working mothers", " work at home" scams, internet porn, webcam chicks or the crazy weight-loss trends and get right to the meat of the situation.

These people are so stupid...seriously! Most of them cannot construct a simple sentence. I'm not saying I can, but at least you can read my blog and understand the point I am trying to make. I use spell check, which is way more than I can say for the crazy comment mass's.

I have to stop myself from making measly attempts to try and piss these people off. I get so much joy from thinking about what I would say to these idiots who think the are the be all end all. When they come back to reply to another dumb fuck and reinforce what an ass they are, it makes me even more crazy. They are ignorant pricks who think the bible belt is what holds up their pants. I do find it fascinating however, the way these douche bag brains work. NOM, Republican, Right Wing...Mother Fuckers. I really just want to track them down and sterilize them. But alas...I cannot. For fear or being lynched because I am a woman...and a gay woman at that.