Archive for the 'My Story' category

Why I really quit my book club

Apr 24 2012 Published by under My Story

Love books, Love everything ..

Last week I was sitting in the yoga studio, waiting for class to begin, when in walked an acquaintance I hadn’t seen in years. We used to be in a book club together, which was started by a mutual friend. We called ourselves Litterati, and we met once a month to discuss our selected book over a meal and a few bottles of wine.

We took turns hosting the meetings and choosing the books. Some of my favorite reads were titles I never would have selected on my own…Bel Canto, The Time Traveler’s Wife, and The Other Boleyn Girl among them.

I stayed with Litterati for about a year and a half. When I left, I told everyone it was because I was too busy, which I believed at the time. But looking back, I was just beginning to realize how unhappy I was. There were problems in my relationship, my job was highly stressful, and my self-esteem was in the toilet. It was also around this time that I began dieting and exercising almost obsessively, thinking if I just reached the “perfect” weight I would finally be happy. My life was a mess, and I think I was secretly worried that people would find out and be disappointed in me, so I kept them at a distance.

It took a few more years, but I finally figured things out. The real problem wasn’t my weight, or my busy schedule, or any of those other superficial things. The real issue was that I had stopped being me.

I stayed in an unhealthy relationship because I was afraid of what people might think. I was already divorced once, and had broken two engagements before that. I stayed in my career because it was all I knew, and worried it was too late to start over. I wasn’t writing because I didn’t think I was good enough to be a “real” writer. I had millions of excuses as to why I couldn’t live the life I really wanted.

Isn’t it funny how a chance meeting with an old friend brought new perspective to events that happened nearly a decade ago?

I chatted with K. after yoga class that evening, and she said Litterati is still going strong, though some of the members have changed. They are celebrating their 10-year anniversary this month. At the last meeting, she said they discussed inviting all the old members back for a reunion. I told her I would love to come.

Seeing K. reminded me how long it’s been since I curled up with a good book. Last summer I finally read The Kite Runner and loved it, but to be honest I haven’t done much reading since that wasn’t work-related. I’d like to change that, and could use some recommendations.

Have you read anything amazing recently?

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Photo by Denisa Kadlecova on Flickr

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My struggles with SAD

Feb 28 2012 Published by under My Story

StruggleThis time of year, all I want to do is sleep. I’ve never been diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder by a doctor, but I have almost all of the symptoms. They come back every winter like clockwork, and seem to be getting worse as I get older. I struggle the most with SAD in late February and early March, when it tends to be rainy and gray, like today.

According to the Mayo Clinic, winter-onset seasonal affective disorder symptoms include:

  • Depression
  • Hopelessness
  • Anxiety
  • Loss of energy
  • Heavy, “leaden” feeling in the arms or legs
  • Social withdrawal
  • Oversleeping
  • Loss of interest in activities you once enjoyed
  • Appetite changes, especially a craving for foods high in carbohydrates
  • Weight gain
  • Difficulty concentrating

I can answer yes to most of these, except hopelessness and “leaden” arms and legs. I do feel both sad and anxious, have gained at least 10 pounds since November, have trouble focusing on my work, and can’t seem to make it through the day without napping. I also haven’t felt very social.

The high-carb cravings are definitely true, too.  So far today I’ve eaten a bowl of oatmeal, mashed potatoes & rutabaga, pinto beans & rice, and a banana. Nary a vegetable or piece of fruit in the mix.

The exact cause of SAD is still unknown. Age, genetics, and body chemistry are believed to play a role. Both of my parents suffer from SAD, so I’m not surprised that I do as well. Their solution is to spend the winters in Florida, which doesn’t make sense for us right now.

I think my SAD has gotten worse since I’ve been working from home. My guess is it’s because when I worked in an office, I had access to endless streams of caffeine (free soda) and a vending machine full of junk food. There’s no such thing as tired when you’re pumped full of Diet Coke, jalapeno potato chips, and M&Ms.

These days I try to manage my SAD by taking Vitamin D supplements, getting out for daily walks with the dog (which we didn’t do today because of the rain), and talking about my symptoms with friends and family. I also plan to discuss my symptoms with my doctor at my next appointment.

Do you struggle with SAD in the fall and winter? What strategies have worked or not worked for you?

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Photo by Chauromano on Flickr

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Farewell, Monkey Man

Dec 15 2011 Published by under My Story

I’m so sad to tell you that we lost our little Griffin this week. After I wrote my last post, I took him to an internal medicine specialist. She performed an ultrasound of Griffin’s abdomen and saw evidence of what she thought was a foreign object in his intestines, so on Friday night Griffin had surgery. After the operation the doctor called to tell me she found no foreign body, but several abnormalities in his pancreas, intestines, and liver. As we waited for biopsy results, Griffin’s condition continued to deteriorate. He was still regurgitating almost constantly, meaning he was unable to get proper nutrition into his body and was losing weight rapidly.

On Tuesday, the biopsy results confirmed what we feared most: pancreatic cancer. Pancreatic cancer is almost impossible to treat, in humans and in dogs. The oncologist didn’t think chemotherapy was an option, and since the cancer had already spread to his liver, there was no surgical treatment either.

Tom and I made the very difficult decision to end Griffin’s pain. We said good-bye to our little monkey-faced dog on Tuesday night, the eve of the 8-year anniversary of the day I adopted him. There are few words to describe how much Griffin changed our lives. Thank you to all of you for your support, prayers, and kind words. The wound is still raw, but we are comforted knowing Griffin is no longer in pain.

This is how I choose to remember Griffin, as a high-energy, vocal dog with enthusiasm for life’s smallest pleasures. Farewell, Monkey Man. May the sunbeams always find you in heaven.

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Life on my terms: Why bullies and critics can’t keep me down

Sep 08 2011 Published by under My Story

Today is the one-year anniversary of Peculiar Girl. When I started this blog I had no idea what to expect, I just wanted to write. I see too much sadness, selfishness, and hate where there should be happiness, compassion, and love, and I wanted to help change that. In the beginning Peculiar Girl had about six readers: my husband, my family, and a few friends. Today Peculiar Girl has 46 subscribers and 212 Facebook fans, all of whom inspire me to keep writing, even when I worry I don’t have anything interesting to say. Thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart. Your support means the world to me.

Today’s post is from the Peculiar Girl archives, post No. 1, originally written September 8, 2010.

I let go of the top bar and fell backward, my gymnastics teacher guiding my six-year-old body through the move. With my knees still hooked around the bottom bar, the momentum carried me down, around, and back up again. At the top of the circle I released my knees from the bar and landed on my feet, arms triumphantly raised to the sky. It’s called a penny drop, and I was one of only two girls in my class brave enough to try it.

Back then I was a fearless—a tiny spitfire with a pixie haircut and scabby knees. I climbed trees, learned to skateboard, and rode my bike downhill “no-handed” as fast as I could. I did what made me happy. And there was no one telling me I shouldn’t.

Just before my seventh birthday my family moved from the city to a small, rural town. I would start second grade at a new school. There were no gymnastics classes, no friends next door, and I sprained my ankle the first time I tried riding my bike on gravel—my wheels spun in the loose rock and I fell, catching my foot in the spokes.

There, everyone knew everyone else. Their families had lived there for generations, most of them farmers. They went to church. We didn’t. They did chores before school. I didn’t. How strange I must have seemed—with my unfamiliar last name and short haircut. A kid on the bus asked if I was a boy or a girl. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so fearless.

From the get-go I didn’t fit in. I was criticized, teased, and sometimes bullied for being “weird.” Most of it seemed to stem from my taste in clothes, my choice of friends, and that I sucked at dodge ball.

Ultimately, growing up a misfit was a positive experience for me. It made me a stronger, more empathetic person. I realized that happiness doesn’t come from the approval of others, and that just because something is popular doesn’t make it right. I also developed a thicker skin, which definitely helps in my career. When you’re a writer, EVERYONE has an opinion about your work. You learn to take it all in stride.

It takes patience and courage to live life on one’s own terms, but I believe it is the only path to true happiness. I started this blog to share my triumphs and challenges, and to hopefully inspire others to embrace what makes us different from one another.

Have something to add? Please, leave a comment with your thoughts. If you enjoyed this post, you can subscribe to Peculiar Girl or share it on Twitter or Facebook.

Photo by Nono Fara on Flickr

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He’s just not that into you: Peculiar Girl edition

Aug 17 2011 Published by under My Story

There’s a sculpture in town that reminds me of a bad first date—a dull, awkward, bizarre first (and last) date I once had with a man I met online.

It’s an ugly sculpture, if you ask me. It’s one of those sterile, corporate pieces you often see, commissioned by businesses, intended to symbolize their company’s “synergy” or “impact” or “dynamics”—whatever idiotic jargon is hot that year. The sculpture sits outside a public building on a street I often drive. Whenever I see it, I marvel that someone likely shelled out thousands of dollars for the thing, and fondly recall the weird first date I had with the artist who made it.

Now, my objective isn’t to bash the guy, or his art, only to illustrate how sometimes two people simply aren’t a match, and there’s no getting around it.

It was my first and only foray into online dating. I didn’t know what to expect, so I kept my hopes low, thinking of it purely as a way to meet new people and get out of the house once and a while.

Darren* made the first move. He was slightly older than the age range I listed for potential dates, but he seemed nice and it appeared we had some things in common… I’m a writer, he’s an artist, we both enjoy travel, and we both love dogs. I answered his email.

After several emails and a few phone conversations, we set a date to meet in person. (I checked him out first to make sure he was who he said he was, and that he didn’t have a criminal background.) Our phone conversations weren’t electric, but they were pleasant. I was looking forward to our date.

We met for coffee late on a Saturday morning. Almost as soon as I sat down, I knew this date would be our last. He’s a very attractive man, but looked as if he just rolled out of bed. In my book, a guy who can’t bother to shower and shave for a first date either doesn’t value himself, has issues with showering in general, or doesn’t feel I’m worthy of impressing. None of these are qualities I’m looking for in a date.

Before you judge me as shallow, it was clear Darren wasn’t into me either. He kept his laptop open on the table the entire time, and checked it frequently. When he wasn’t fiddling with his computer, he sat back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head, a gesture of arrogance and self-importance. His body language indicated no real interest in me or what I had to say.

We chatted about this and that, but nothing about our conversation made me eager to see him again. I’m sure he felt the same way. As I neared the bottom of my soy latte, he abruptly closed his laptop and said something like, “Well, I’m gonna get going.” Our date was over almost before it started.

He did walk me to my building, which was courteous, but neither of us brought up the prospect of a second date. Since I had no real expectations going into the date, I wasn’t disappointed or upset. It was actually kind of funny, how thoroughly bad it was.

Sometimes we spend way too much time, especially when it comes to dating, trying to figure out what went wrong. Why didn’t he call? Did I say something to offend him? Am I not attractive enough?

The truth is, not everyone’s going to like you, just like you aren’t going to like everyone you meet. It’s a lesson I wish I’d learned much earlier in life; it would have saved me a lot of self-doubt and heartache in my teens and twenties.

I never saw Darren again. I hope he met someone who makes him happy. I continued with the online dating site for about six more months. I went on a few more first dates and even fewer second dates. It turns out online dating just wasn’t for me, but I’m glad I gave it a try. It was definitely an interesting experience.

Have you tried online dating? Was your experience good or bad? Have a story to share? If you enjoyed this post, you can subscribe to Peculiar Girl or share it on Twitter or Facebook.

Photo by Cali4beach on Flickr

*Not his real name

 

 

 

 

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