I’m Working on It

This is for anyone struggling with addiction. Recovery is possible. I know you’re sick of hearing this. They preach it at every treatment center and at every meeting. When I say recovery is possible I mean it. This coming from someone who used to think that was a crock of shit. Someone who never used to want to be sober. From someone who didn’t understand the purpose of sobriety. From someone who struggled for years with their sobriety. This is coming from someone who’s finally found it…found their reason to stay sober…found their reason to keep living. For the first time ever in my life getting high is no longer a viable option for anything life throws at me. For once in my life I don’t even think about getting high, I don’t miss one single thing about it or anything that follows. I love my life. My life may not be Adrenalin filled excitement but it is fun, fulfilling, and filled with love and laughter. Recovery is possible and it’s fucking amazing, but you can’t force it. No amount of counseling or treatment or incarceration is going to keep anyone sober that isn’t ready to be sober. You have to find your reason and it has to be genuine and organic. You’re going to white knuckle it for a while, but if you want it you’ll work for it and you’ll make it through. One day you’ll wake up and smile and getting high wont even be a thought. I still have triggers, but they don’t trigger the desire to get high anymore. They trigger memories; people, places, sounds, smells, emotions. Some of them might make me laugh but it’s all tinged with sadness because of the mess that my life was during those times. It was never truly a good time, ever. I lost everything and I’ve fought hard to get to here. This might not be where I want to be, but it’s the best place I’ve ever been. I’ve found my reason to be here, to be the best version of me. I’ve found my value and if you’re still out there, still struggling, still fighting; I hope you find you’re reason too because you’re worth it.

Alrighty now this is for all y’all that wanted to know how the fuck I got my body back after two babies in two years (9 weeks postpartum right now). It’s not rocket science, it’s really not, but there is a science to it and I’ll break down exactly what I’ve done/been doing. First things first MOTIVATION HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. I mean that whole heartedly. My husband says all the time motivation is bullshit, it comes and goes, you need to have discipline. He’s right, motivation is a feeling and like most feelings it comes and goes, but discipline is a skill and once you get some discipline in your life you’re going to accomplish whatever it is you want. I started this back on February 1st of this year crying because I was fat. I was pregnant, but I was fat and I hated it. I was almost 170lbs and wasn’t due until April and I was 120lbs before I got pregnant. My loathing of what I saw in the mirror was my initial motivation to make a change. That day I downloaded the Prenatal Downdog Yoga app on my phone and got to work. They also have some super awesome other apps that I also utilize like Yoga (for anyone that isn’t pregnant), Barre, and HIIT. All of which I utilize and once I got comfortable with the prenatal yoga I utilized all the other workouts as well. Tip here do not do any workout that doesn’t feel right in your body! If it causes you actual pain don’t do it! Every workout I did started making me feel progressively better and better and that’s where my motivation turned to discipline. While pregnant I worked out at least 10 mins a day and then walked on the treadmill we have every chance I got. I wasn’t pushing myself too hard because I’m relatively sensible, but after I had my son in March (4 weeks early. Don’t worry he’s perfect) we were in the hospital for 2 days and I was doing HIIT and yoga in my hospital room, that’s discipline y’all. Being at home now with two babies I don’t necessarily get to set aside time to work out. I don’t go to the gym or anything, but I move constantly and work out in short bursts where I can. Literally anyone can do this. Food is in the microwave for 45 seconds bust out a fucking 45 second plank. Sitting on the couch watching tv? Bust out as many crunches as you can before your show comes back on. Waiting for your kids bath water to run? Fucking squat it out until the tub is full. You waiting for someone to get out of the bathroom? WALL SIT! Y’all I’m not playing it’s really that simple. Get your kids involved too, it’ll make life way easier if they want to join your workout as opposed to disrupt it. My daughter is 1 and she fucking loves yoga. This girl was busting out yoga moves (downdog, three legged dog, sumo squats) before she could even walk! So no excuses, get moving. Now, diet is equally important. My husband is the diet guru and he’s counting calories and macros and shit, but I’m lazy and that’s too intense for me (but if y’all are interested in that shit I’m sure he’d help you break down a perfectly macro nutrient balanced diet). I simply just started eating healthier, no fast food, minimal processed bullshit, and I stopped over eating. And that’s fucking great, but let me tell you this I’ve discovered my husband might’ve been right about something….sugar. I love me some fucking sugar, man. I’d never tell anyone to cut out sugar, but I will say if you simply cut back on sugar you’re going to see some real results. Ten days ago y’all I just cut back on sugar and started intermittent fasting. What I mean by that is I don’t eat until at least 8am and I don’t eat anything after 8pm, so 12 hours a day I don’t eat shit. With my sugar reduction I use sugar free creamer in my coffee, I don’t eat sugary cereal, I’ve dramatically cut back on my candy and ice cream intake. Ten days y’all, I’ve cut back on sugar and started intermittent fasting and I’ve lost 4.4lbs! I’m down to 130lbs at 9 weeks postpartum! My mantra that I’ve had since February 1st has been “I will look good and feel confident in a bikini in Florida!”. We leave for FL next week on the 23rd and I’m looking and feeling pretty good. Oh, and for any of you having a panic attack about reducing sugar it’s so simple. If you drink coffee and want creamer, just buy the sugar free shit it tastes just as good I promise. If you’re someone that likes soda just get the diet bullshit, it’s not going to kill you I promise. If you dig sweet cereal for breakfast try a healthier less sugary option (plain Cheerios with fruit in it, Honey Nut Cheerios, honey bunches of oats; these are all way better for you amd have significantly less sugar than other breakfast cereals). Quit eating highly processed frozen foods! They’re packed with all kinds of salt and sugar (excess sugar stores as fat and too much salt is going to make you retain water). Look up some recipes with fresh veggies and chicken breast, make some whole grain pasta, whip up some eggs for an omelette, get some whole grain tortillas and make some burritos. Cooking healthy meals is much easier than you’d think! Get rid of fast food altogether! I mean it! It’s so bad for you in every way! Cut back on your junk food intake limit yourself to one candy bar or one bowl of ice cream a day or find a healthier alternative. I’ve got a new found love for dark chocolate covered almonds and honey roasted pistachios that I munch on when I need candy or fresh fruit too to crush that sugar craving. Oh and if you drink alcohol quit it, that all turns to sugar. Getting into shape and losing weight isn’t rocket science and it isn’t hard. It’s a lot of work but it isn’t hard. Don’t wait until you’ve got the motivation, get disciplined, get up, get moving, eat something good for you. Do yourself a favor and start right now. Drop the excuses and do something good for you, you’ll thank yourself later!

Dear little me, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that you got to see the worst life could offer so young, but I promise that there is real beauty even when it doesn’t seem like it. I’m so sorry your sense of family, security, and love were stolen from you, but I promise you will find them again. I’m so sorry you were forced to grow up far too quickly, but one day you’ll get to enjoy giving your children the childhood you never got. I’m so sorry that you felt so alone, but one day you will know that you’re never truly alone and that you are so so loved. I’m so sorry that you were hurting so deeply that you chose to feel nothing at all. I swear one day you will appreciate every feeling you have, good or bad. I’m sorry that no where ever felt like home, but one day you’re going to find out that home is not a place but a feeling and your going to find the people that make you finally feel “home”. I’m so sorry that you had to bear the weight of burdens that were never yours to shoulder. It’s time to put them down. It’s time to let that all go. I’m sorry I can’t go back and make things better for you, but at least I can take solace in the fact that I know your future is so bright and beautiful despite the darkness that plagued your past. You are so strong and resilient. Dear little me, I’m so sorry for all you went through and all I put you through. Just know I love you, you are loved, you are safe, you are secure, you are home.

Who decided dandelions are weeds? I mean that seriously. My kids pick me dandelions every year for Mother’s Day and I fucking love it, but nothing makes me angrier than when someone feels the need to tell them that the flowers they picked are “just weeds”. To me they’re not “just weeds”. I love these dandelions, my kids saw something they thought was beautiful and magical and wanted to share it with me. To me they’re not weeds. I googled it actually; why they’re considered weeds. Want to know what puts them in that category? They grow everywhere, they spread aggressively, and they’re hard to kill. I don’t see the problem with any of that. They’re beautiful, strong, resilient, and plentiful. I think they’re beautiful and it makes my heart smile to have my tiny people find flowers and leaves that they think are the perfect gift for me. I have a book full of pressed flowers and leaves that they’ve given to me over the years. Most of them are dandelions and they’re my favorite. They go from tiny happy little suns to puffy little balls of wishes. I love that they can appreciate the beauty in the little things, the things others might dismiss as “just weeds”. My hope for them is that they never lose that. They never lose that kind and thoughtfulness behind giving a simple gift, that they always find beauty in life, that they can appreciate the things others may look past, that they blaze their own trail rather than fall in line with everyone else. I hope that they always consider the dandelions a flower as opposed to a weed.

One thing I was told all the time when I was growing up that I don’t think is a compliment at all is “my goodness aren’t you an old soul!” I know it was well meaning and they meant something like “well, aren’t you mature” or “you seem wise beyond your years”, but none of those are compliments. Being an “old soul” or “wise beyond your years” or “mature for your age” isn’t a good thing for a child. A child is supposed to be a child. What you see as something impressive I see as something sad. That child is only those things because that child has to be. They didn’t get the opportunity to just be a kid. That child is sad. That child has been broken. That child has been traumatized beyond your comprehension. That child has been given too much responsibility too fast. That child has seen and been through things most adults shouldn’t experience. But that child is strong because they have to be. That child is resilient because life goes on. That child puts on a brave face because people are watching. An “old soul”, maturity, and wisdom come from experience…experience a child shouldn’t have. That child is sad, broken, lost, and so strong. Next time you encounter one of these children please do not compliment them on their ability to carry their burdens so flawlessly instead encourage them to put them down. Offer them an opportunity to just be a kid even if for a only moment. We shouldn’t be applauding children on how well they hold the weight of their burdens, some of which would crush most adults. We should be offering them what they have been robbed of; a place where they can set those burdens down, a place of safety and security, a place where they can just be a kid.

Our tiniest babies are 11 months apart. Our daughter Arie is 13 months old and our son Kaja is 2 months. Aside from being different genders let me tell you these two babies are night and day difference. It’s kind of mind blowing how different they are just this far. Both my pregnancies were real easy, I didn’t find out if I was pregnant until I was nearly half way through both of them (praise God). I’ll start with Arie, the first baby I gave birth to. Arie came naturally right on her due date. She didn’t cry at all when she was born, she just stared at me. She was born with a full head of strawberry blonde hair. Her hair is still cute little strawberry blonde and starting to curl and this girl is so white I swear she’d glow in a black light. She’s always been a ham; she’s always, smiled, waved, blows kisses to everyone. She’s little love bug, but for her first damn near 6 months of life was soooo colicky. I don’t think we ever got a full nights sleep. She screamed every time we got in the car and every time we tried to put her to sleep. Everyone always told me to just let her cry and she’d cry herself to sleep eventually. To everyone that told me that kindly go fuck yourselves. Girlfriend would cry FOR HOURS. She’d cry until her face turned purple, she cried until she couldn’t breathe, she’d cry so hard she’d throw up and then choke on her puke. The only thing that would make her stop is going outside. She still wakes up once a night to cry around, but we’re past that other shit thank God. She loves to adventure, get out of the house, play outside, listen to music, and chase her brothers around now that we can. She’s a chonk and always been hot blooded and constantly sweating which makes her IRATE especially if her fat little feet get too hot. She’s hilarious, sassy, determined, and loving. Now for Kaja. He came naturally 4 weeks before his due date. This guy came out with a full head of dark hair and a moderate tan (not jaundiced just olive toned). He was just as long as his sister and just a pound lighter (20in 6.5lbs). Little mister is long and skinny (he’s getting chunkier). He’s constantly frozen and pissed off about it. This guy is so chill I thought there was something wrong with him. He literally only cries when he poops, when he’s hungry, and when his sister beats on him. He sleeps like a champ; I’m certain he’d only wake up once during the night to eat if his sister didn’t wake him up when she starts yelling around. He’s started smiling, but he saves most his conversations and smiles for his mommy. He hates car rides and he’s pretty particular about the music he wants played. Much like his sister he doesn’t want to be put down…ever. He loves to go outside and sleeps like an angel when we all go for walks. So, there you have it. Two babies, same parents, 11 months apart and completely different. I love my daughter a fuck load don’t get me wrong but I thank the universe daily that Kaja is nothing like her when she was tinier because I don’t know if I could handle her x2! With her being my first I didn’t know how different babies could be, I was expecting a similar experience with him. I can’t wait to watch him keep growing and developing his own little personality. Babies are great, babies are weird, babies will make you feel like you’re going crazy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

When I was younger I used to be riddled with anxiety, almost to the point of crippling me. As I got older I made the decision to not let my anxiety control me. I decided to no longer let things that were out of my control destroy me mentally, almost to a fault at this point. I’ve decided if it isn’t going to ruin my life or cause long term problems then fuck it. My memory is absolute trash so instead of worrying about missing something or being late I have calendar events and alarms for literally everything. I have half a dozen kids, 2 of them in diapers, and even before that I ran consistently late. Who cares? Me being late isn’t going to kill anyone, at least I showed up. Whoops I forgot to get myself dressed at least the kids look nice. Totally forgot to brush my teeth, oh well I think there’s gum in the truck. These are things that would RUIN my day before. I mean it’s inconvenient now, but it’s whatever. Now, that being said I still get anxious, but it’s not a day ruin-er by any means. I was talking to my mom and I didn’t realize this until she said something about it. There is one thing that causes me absolutely crippling anxiety still, my kids choking. My mom has her PHD (abd) in psychology and is a therapist and she was wondering why that is. I kind of explained it to her about my brother choking once when I was little and her response was that I should do EMDR about it. Well, I think that’s a bunch of crap (it might work for some people but I’ve tried and I think it’s dumb) so, I analyzed it myself over the last few days. Let me go back to my brother choking. I was probably 5/6 and my brother was probably 1/2. My mom was at work or school (it felt like she was always gone at work or school). It was dark out, Jake’s dad had fallen asleep on the toilet pooping and Jake and I were playing under the kitchen table and he found a tiny piece of a hard shell taco and tried to eat it. I’m not sure how the hell he choked on it, but he did. He stood up fast and banged his head under the table, when he looked at me his face was turning purple and his eyes were huge and terrified and he started to run. He was running like someone was electrocuting him but making no noise and I had no idea what to do or how to help. I ran to bathroom and woke up his dad and he started yelling at me like it was my fault. The last thing I remember is him running out of the bathroom holding his pants up with one hand and chasing after Jake. Jake is alive and well, so don’t worry. Fun fact I still don’t like hard shell tacos. I’ve always said it’s because they’re gross and hurt my teeth, but after some thought maybe it’s because I associate them with that experience. Fast forward to my little sister. I’m probably 11 and she’s around 1. She’s always been a drama queen and when she was small she choked on everything and my parents were never phased by it. They always just said “she’s fine she just does that”. It was horrifying to me especially in the car when my parents couldn’t see her and I could. She’d choke on whatever snack or drink she had and they wouldn’t do anything. She was buckled into her little car seat facing away from them and I couldn’t unbuckle her or pat her back and they would just say she’s fine. Well, I can see her and she doesn’t seem fine and I’m freaking out because why the fuck would you give her something she can choke on in the car, where you can’t see her, where she’s buckled in and hard to get to. I used to have incredibly vivid nightmares about Emma choking and when I’d try to help her she’d smack my hands away and when I’d yell at my parents to help me they’d yell “she’s fine” or “figure it out”. Emma is also alive and well. Through reflecting on all this I’ve come to learn that choking terrifies me because 1. It’s unavoidable because children have to eat food to live, it’s scientifically proven I think 2. I don’t know what to do in a situation where someone is choking 3. It makes me feel small and out of control 4. I don’t do well under pressure, I freeze because I associate pressure with high stress situations from when I was younger where I was yelled at for my reaction or things I couldn’t control 5. I feel I’m able to avoid, handle, or remedy most other situations, so the fact that choking is something that I can’t prevent (to a degree) only resolve, but one that I have no idea how to resolve properly is terrifying. So, yes, my children choking scares the fuck out of me to the point where thinking of it makes me cry because I feel that it’s something that could result in the death of a child if I don’t preform adequately. That seems insane right? But that’s how my brain works. I could probably remedy some of that anxiety by taking a class on CPR and learning the heimlich.

Just in case y’all aren’t aware I use two apps (Mantra and I Am on the Apple Store and they’re free for anyone that would like to utilize them) to send me upwards of 50 positive affirmations a day. I woke up at nearly 2am to feed and change my tiniest baby and check my affirmations, because why not. and I shit you not I had literally just been talking to my husband yesterday about how I was watching the pieces of our life fall together and my affirmations right then at nearly 2am we’re giving me that little wink wink from the universe. The difference between a dream and a goal is merely action. Manifestation is a powerful thing if you put in the work to make it happen. We’ve been working out asses off and some days it feels like just chasing our tails, but I sat down and really looked at everything yesterday was so proud and grateful. So we had this giant piece of truck that we loved because in theory it was perfect for our family and we had to get rid of it because it was a pile of flaming garbage. Well, just recently we were able to get the exact same truck just much newer and not shitty at all. Hard work and manifestation. Quite some time ago Wyatt had lost his favorite job in the world that had amazing benefits because of our addictions and legal troubles. Well he had seen they were hiring and applied and yesterday they called him. He starts his job that was fulfilling and has great benefits Monday. Oh, and remember how he had wanted to go back to school? Once he’s been at this job for a year they’ll reimburse him up to 95% of tuition. Hard work and manifestation. At the beginning of this year my husband was nearing 300lbs and I was nearing 200lbs (yes I was pregnant but I didn’t give birth to a fucking 100lbs baby). We’re taking a family trip to FL at the end of this month and we both wanted to be beach ready. We have each lost somewhere around 40lbs. Hard work and manifestation. Everything is falling perfectly into place at the perfect times. My most recent manifestation is a house for our family. And let me tell you what I’m picturing when I put this out to the universe. I’m picturing a huge house with room for all of us. A huge fenced in back yard, for the kids and a dog to play in. A big ass porch in the back and a fire pit and it’ll all be perfect. Now the steps we’re taking to make this dream a reality? Wyatt’s already doing his part and moving jobs with better pay and benefits. I have applied for one job and one job only. Selling motorcycles at our local J&L Harley dealership in town. I’ve already done two out of three interviews and I’m going to follow up today. Here’s the Gods honest truth (I even told them this in my interviews) I don’t know a fucking thing about motorcycles, not one thing, but I’m up for a challenge and down to learn. My background is mostly insurance sales and I’m fully confident in my ability to learn something new and sell the shit outta some motorcycles and getting the opportunity to learn to ride is a super sick bonus. So here’s to learning something new and turning dreams into reality. Hard work pays and good things come to those who ask and work for it.

It’s been brought to my attention that I have zero contact info on here so I figured I’ll share some ways y’all can keep up with me other than my blog if you want *shrugs*

[email: imworkingonit.blog@gmail.com][instagram: @im.working.on.it.blog] [tiktok: @im.working.on.it.blog] [Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100091287706690&mibextid=LQQJ4d%5D [twitter: @im_working0nit]

I’ve been thinking about my struggles with my mental health lately and here’s what I’ve come up with, sometimes you don’t want/need a solution. A podcast my husband listens to describes depression as a magnification of the past and anxiety as a magnification of the future. Right now I feel neither of those are accurate in describing how I’ve been feeling. What is going on in my head is a magnification of my present situation, which is causing me extreme distress at times…quite a lot lately. I’ve been complaining that I need more help or I have too much to do or I’m overwhelmed or exhausted or just crying. Because everything I feel right now I feel to the extreme and that’s new to me. I’m not used to feeling everything so much, if that makes sense. Everyone has been offering me help or asking how they can help and until today I haven’t known exactly what I need for help. I’ve decided I don’t think I need solutions to my problems. What I want is my feelings validated and the opportunity to sit with those feelings and to have someone just sit with me in those feelings until they pass. There’s no way to mute or opt out of my feelings. There’s no way to make them pass faster or to change them immediately. I’ve been doing my daily routine and wondering why I still feel this way and I think it’s because I’ve been denying myself the time to sit and feel and process these feelings. I may be magnifying and exaggerating everything going on around and inside me right now, but I need to acknowledge my feelings no matter how ridiculous they might seem. Every feeling is valid and I haven’t been validating my own feelings. So, I’ve decided that the only way anyone is really going to help is by allowing me to process my own feelings and maybe a nonjudgmental hug.