Stress And Stereotypes

 I guess even the toughest among us has a breaking point.  I am by no means the toughest, but I am pretty strong for the most part.  Now R might disagree with that because he always sees the softer, wimpier side of me.  But what he doesn't understand is that I don't have to be tough when he is around.  That's about the only time, and the rest of world seems to view me much differently than he does.

Today however, the world got a little different view.  I went to Dr. Ivy League's office for my weekly check in on this diet thing.  I stepped on the scale and thought it was the same as last week.  At that point I just started crying uncontrollably.  I had hit my breaking point.  The poor girl couldn't quite figure out what was wrong.  I was babbling pretty much incoherently about all the things going on in my life.  Lucky for me, she speaks fluent sobbing female and figured it out.  As a result, they are taking me off the program for about a month...two weeks at least. 

My Step Dad is going in for a quadruple bypass Wednesday.  I have also been worried about my brother who is going in for a defibrillator soon.  My Mother has been seriously stressed over my Step Dad and I have been trying to hold it together for her.  (My brother is a half brother and had a different Mother, but she is still concerned for him too.)  R is gone to Utah most of every week now for the job he is doing.  On top of that, I have been trying to deal with small pesky things like finding Ridley a new home, the post office who refuses to acknowledge the fact that the mistake in losing the package is their fault and won't do anything about.  (Thank you Andrea for taking that little point of stress away today...you're still a rock star!)  And dealing with all of these things on 500 calories a day. Not to mention the memory issues, extreme fatigue and muscle cramps that go with it.  Plus the fact that I started the diet after being sick for ten days.  So all the stress I had been holding back just bubbled to the surface and rushed out like a water fall.  I am talking Angel Falls in Venezuela, and I just couldn't stop crying.  I was so embarrassed.  As it turned out I was wrong, and I actually lost five pounds.  But that goes back to the memory thing.  Luckily they give me a print out from the scale every week or I wouldn't have known  for sure.

I am going to still try to eat healthy for the time I am not doing the diet and watch what I eat carefully, but I am not going to be in starvation mode right now.  It's just too much.  Tomorrow I am also going for a massage...God knows I need it.

On the other topic I was going to talk about, I read an interesting article today about tattoos.  You can see one of my two in the pic shown above. (Ignore my cracked heel!)  I also have a small man in the moon with a star on the back of my neck.  I got it when I was 21, before tattoos on the neck were really a thing, and I had short hair. I got my ankle one 21 years later, and I thought for several years about what I wanted to get and even if I wanted to get it.

I learned something interesting about how people view tattoos these days.  While the old stereotype used to be that if you had one you were probably a biker and someone not to be messed with, that has changed.  Personally I thought it wasn't a big deal anymore.  But now there is a new stereotype; if you have one you either feel a need to belong to a group, you are greatly dissatisfied with yourself in some way, or you are craving attention.  Who knew?

I am not here to try to change how you feel about having one on yourself...that's a very personal choice.  But honestly, despite this diet thing, I have never really been dissatisfied with my body image since I was 14 and convinced I needed a nose job.  I couldn't care less about belonging to a group.  When it comes to craving attention...again not really a problem.  I tend to get way more attention than I usually want.

The thought process that went into getting it went something like this:  I love winged hearts, they have always been my logo...and it would look cute on my ankle.  Do I want that forever?  *Insert a couple years deliberation*  Answer; yes!

We live in a world that is supposed to be so enlightened, understanding and accepting...so why is this even a big deal?   By the way, the article I read was written by someone who is gay.  While that isn't something I have ever had a problem with since so many of my friends have been gay...and both of my tattoos were gotten with gay best friends, we are all expected to be understanding and accepting of that...so who are they to judge this?  I find that interestingly ironic. 

Personally I think life is hard...especially lately.  Do what makes you happy.  I feel that it's up to you what you want to do with your life and your body, and as long as you aren't hurting anyone else in the process, I am ok with that and it's not my place to judge.  Vive la difference!