Life Changing Experience.....

The tears hit this morning...

I'm not going to get in to it but the final wave of some loss and rejection passed over and through me this morning.

I'm not going to parade my sadness around but in the words of Mick and Keith- "you can't always get what you want...." but also in the words of Mick and Keith "but if you try sometimes....you get what you need..."

Truer words were never spoken.

I was sitting in a Starbucks drinking  tea and wham- the mounting pressure of the feelings I had been shoving to the back of my head collapsed the levy and I was left flooded. I am not a fan of crying in public, I am less of a fan of crying in Starbucks @ 7:30 in the morning.

I miss my father...honestly- all these other feelings are unsettling and irritating but all of them hardly belong to themselves,they all take root in missing Dad. The closer we get to Bree's wedding the more it starts to hurt.

We just wanted to make it that far, I wanted him to be in the sun and happy one more time before he died. We didn't make it and I feel so deeply sad about it.

All week I have found myself absolutely starved for one of his hugs, the last time I was at the house I sat on his beg and hugged his pillows. The longing is the wrenching part, I want- I want- I want.

However- the good thing is that even in my sadness I am staying on track- my

food indulgences yesterday were still all good for me and I tried on my Joanie dress that was to be my goal dress for New York and BOOM, 3 weeks ahead of schedule IT FITS!

I still need to lose about 15 more for it to look superfly, but man, I needed the boost today.

Yesterday I went to Pilates and man, did it kick my ass.

I can officially say I prefer Pilates to Yoga. No bullshit spiritual practice heaped in with me cursing the gods due to muscle pain, I know it works really well for some people so I won't knock it ( too much) but I prefer my spiritual practice over here....and my exercise over there...

I am going to the gym every single goddamn day til I leave for Florida/NYC and absolutely determined to return to where I left off in November.

Nothing. Not. One. Thing. is going to get in my way this time.

My health, discipline and self-esteem are absolutely VITAL to the other goals I have set and unless I exhibit the same obsession towards them that I do every other thing and person that crosses my path I will always wind up in the same spot.

I am done, I have exited this sadsack station where i sit and have sat waiting for something wonderful to happen, waiting for my life to arrive I have exited the station and I consider myself 86'd, no longer welcome there because I am not resigned to waiting anymore.

In the midst of the tornado yesterday I fully failed to see something that was put in front of me for what it was- and after my tears today it finally registered. One of my dreams is coming true.

I am going to be working for/with one of my IDOLS - Miss Dianne Brill.

When I was 17 I found a book called Boobs, Boys and High Heels.

It changed my life and made me in to the girl I am today.

I feel like I forgot my Brill-iance somewhere in my late 20's and now as I am 37 I am FINALLY remembering it-- there is a huge correlation to who I was at 17 returning to my life right now, it is powerful-- I loved that me, she was pure, powerful and shimmering. I see her peeking through a lot more these days.

Long of the short,- she owns a cosmetics company and I have been dying to rep for them for over a year- maybe even 2 years now-- well, wish granted . 

The wheels have started turning and all I can hope is that I get to meet her. When I was creating my vision board for this year I taped up all the packaging from the goodie back the North American Distributor sent me.

I didn't know exactly what it mean when I put it there since we had been out of touch for SO long but it meant something to me, she means something to me-- I'll type up a few passages from the book soon to show you why-- she liberated me at a time when I needed to be liberated the most. I just pulled my copy out of the bookshelf, it's time to be re-libbed.

So there's some thoughts for today--- I hate the sadness my life has contained but somewhere in it I found release- release from not just the present pain but the great big sorrow that has been holding me  down/back for nearly 20 years-- I look at this as being released, I have served my sentence- the gates are open- the time has come.

Freshly Squeezed

"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. 

And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost.

 The world will not have it. 

It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. 

It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. 

You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. 

You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. ... No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. 

There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others."

 -Martha Graham

A dear  friend posted this on his facebook feed the other day and it served as a binder to many of my flailing feelings about what the fuck I am doing 

these days.

Many, many changes are happening in my world and at long last I am taking myself by the reins and changing me.

I'll get back to the whole point of the quote in a bit but I have to start at the point of origin so that this can be candid and not just talking around the truth.

The last month of my life has been incredibly difficult- somehow in the midst of great adventures and great joys the pitch black place started calling me again and I knew that this was it. It was time for the showdown.

All the sudden it came sweeping through my life blacking out my happiness, erasing my confidence and absolutely torching the ground underneath me. I haven't had one of these episodes for over 2 years, they are terrifying, paralyzing and beyond unsettling. I cannot sleep, I cannot stay awake everything is uncomfortable and I walk around feeling like everything touching me is 2 sizes too small...

I hit the wall.

This time there was nothing to do but face it.

My lack of self control has been staggering in the last few months, the grieving process leading up to and after the loss of my father has affected me in ways I could never expect. I lived 4 months in constant fear of something happening to him and after it happened I shut down entirely- I hardly cried, I talked about it like it happened to someone else...it wasn't til a couple of weeks in to April that  I actually felt the ache kick in and to be honest, it hasn't really stopped. 

I miss him deeply.

I feel like I am without a harbor,audience or warden. 

All things I have been used to having and made the wild assumption that I would always have.

There is a hole in my world and when Dad quit chemo I sensed the deepening of this hole and began filling it mostly with food but my obsessions became more acute and my high strung nature went in to overdrive.

I won't go in too deep to where I was then  but I take you to where I was 2 weeks ago, hardly sleeping - waking up in fits and starts, crying, gorging myself on food only to feel ravenous, my need was endless...

It's odd because some other points of my life have been so very pleasing - and when I am in those pools it is as if the other things did not matter, or even exist but the minute I was left alone with me I began to terrorize myself. All the sudden I was fat and hideous, a slob, a fake, a failure- All things I KNOW are not true but I was more than willing to whip myself with for the sake of letting this  anger flow to the surface.

I have been stagnant and it feel like a death.

I have 20 projects I wish to create a company that I am very proud of and I want to see thrive but I have sat on my hands for a month....waiting for them to wake up, waiting for them to finally link to my brain and make something. It has been a sad time for me, the one thing that truly links me to my father is my ability to do and make- When I can't do that I feel dead inside, dead inside and a million miles away from the energy that 

has fed me my whole life.

So, I consumed...I consumed and consumed- nothing has been enough.

No affection anyone could give me could be enough, no food could keep me fed, no applause loud enough...my need had become so monstrous that nothing felt good for very long anymore...so I kept hitting the lever and hitting the lever and hitting the lever.

The lever snapped.

I sat with myself a week ago Monday and I looked at myself. Despite the pretty dress and hair, I looked like I was falling apart, my body pulling at the seams of my largest sizes, my eyes looking blacked out and dull- not a stitch of joy in my face when I was alone. 

This had to change.

Last September I started a juice reboot inspired by the film "Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead" It really changed my way of thinking about how I was   feeding myself and caring for my machine ( my machine being *me*) 

I quit coffee and went on a 30 day reboot and lost nearly 30 lbs in a month, I felt incredible. Then October happened. I stayed pretty true to my regime but started slipping here and there but because I was hitting up the gym I managed to lose another 10 lbs- down 40 out of a 75lb goal in 2 months-- The November happened and it all fell apart.

Dad gave the rough news that he was stopping treatment and I dedicated my time to him. In all the sorrow and sadness I completely forgot all the hard work I did and in 4 months time gained back everything I lost.

Grief binging, I do not recommend it.

I was halfway there and I gave up on myself.

I was halfway there and I absolutely abandoned all my hard work.

In retrospect, I'm not even sure why- it wasn't like I had to in order to help take care of Dad. In truth I think my old sabotage abilities are always on the scan for a means of tripping myself up and rejoice when they see a window left unlatches or a loophole left dangling.

The first 3 days were hell, in fact such hell that I think I totally alienated a very dear friend by a major meltdown over the dinner table. 

One wouldn't think it would be so hard but all the coffee, sugar and starch loading I had been doing to keep myself awake/not lethargic left a huge gap in my chemical makeup when I took them away. 

It is now approaching week 2 of me making these cuts and setting myself on a healthier track- there is 11 lbs less of me according to the gym scale and i am feeling a lot more sane/stable/reasonable/reliable than I have felt in a while. It all has to do with self control, something I have never really been good at.

I posted the quote above because it resonated with me, deeply resonated.

I have decided to take this month off from my usual time wasting routines and spend it working on my goals, my body and my art.

I have far too broad a lens right now and I need to narrow it down and figure out what I am really good at.

I have received some hints and signs a long the way recently-- and now I have to create space to DO-- not just talk, think or dream but DO.

My favorite old goat said it best "Don't Try"

You spend your whole life trying, you'll never do anything.

That is why I have it tattooed on my spine.

Because there are days I feel beat down, weary, burdened by my oh so public failures and I whine and I cry and I say I am "trying" 

I am sick of my crying- I owe myself the right to shine.

Now, off to shake these pin curls out and go spin some Tom Waits.

Happy 1 year of not getting bored and giving up on something to me and The Raindog Revival.

I'll be writing here in long form as much as I can and if you like my quippy non-sense hit me up on twitter http://www.twitter.com/missnicobella