I decided to post a two part RECAP. This will be part one and I will be re-introducing myself to my dedicated followers and introducing myself to my new followers (Hi there newbies!). Okay, I didn’t decide this. I just started to write this recap and it turned into this. This part will be about the personal side of things. A little history of yours truly, what was going on( or what occurred) in my life, and how this blog ( and my health thing) had its conception. ( I have a personal blog and i try to keep this one diet specific and leave out a lot of that personal stuff that doesn’t directly affect my health thing, though some if it overlaps and of course completely unrelated to anything, a entry about my dog makes an appearance every now and then )
The second part will be about the content (diet) of things. So, sit back and enjoy. Let’s get (re)acquainted.
My name is Tasha. I’m 24 years old. I’m not your typical 20 something year old. I have such a caring and kind personality. I’m not egotistical but I don’t have low self-esteem either. I’m conceited from time to time, aware of my beauty within and without. So this isn’t your typical self-loathing blog either.
A little bit about my background…. Straight out of High school (being an honor student by the way, but was that stereotypical wild party girl…Gemini at its finest… nerd by day, party animal by night) I went to a four year university and picked Women Studies as my major. Yup, I was that type of teen, an activist always tromping around Manhattan at some sort of festival, rally or protest. The girl screaming the loudest covered in pins and stickers. So, of course I would pick a major just as fitting to that wild hippy spirit.
I left after the first year.
I ended up enrolled into my local community college, switched majors every couple of weeks and finally settled on Deaf Studies. I graduated with my AA in 2010. I only regret picking that degree a little bit, but that’s a different story in itself.
My graduation was rushed. I would of stayed and retaken a couple of courses (I got bad grades in some science courses) and then applied to transfer to four year schools to continue on to my BA. But, I wanted to work. Well, I needed to. My financial aid was cut, so no more free education. But, in my heart I knew I was getting old, I needed some experience under my belt( other than my volunteer/free creative writing work). But, most importantly, my dad unexpectedly fell ill. So, I knew I would be the one to be by his side and see him through.
Then, I knew I would be the one to have to supplement the income my father would no longer bring in. You see, we live in a house, mortgage has to be paid. My mother can’t hack the bills on her own. Even with my brother helping out, we wouldn’t be able to cut it.
But first…I put everything on hold to care-take for my father. School. Work. Life. I was never asked to do it; it was just assumed I would. But, it was MY choice nonetheless. I don’t come from a happy go lucky loving family. We care about each other, sure. But we’re not intimate.
But, if you know me in real life, you know how caring I am. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I care, even when I shouldn’t. I’m not naïve. I know when people use and abuse me. But, I still can’t stop caring. With my father, the decision to care take for him was a no brainer. I did what I thought was the right thing to do as a human being.
I would make the same choice over again and again no matter how bad the experience was.
When my dad was on the mend, I figured I would have my few weeks of peace. My fiancée started working again. It was just after the holidays. It was winter. I figured I would enjoy the peace and quiet of winter and enjoying being home, being a bum for a few weeks before I dusted off the computer and started applying to school and jobs. After all, I never got to experience that. School back to back since high school, then the chaos of illness. So, I settled back ready to enjoy a few vacation weeks.
But not even a week into my “peace time”, my fiancée fell ill unexpectedly. Seriously ill. In a few days he ended up having a brain craniotomy and a few weeks later learned it was cancerous. So we embarked down that nasty path. I thought I care-took for my father… but I learned that barely touched the tip of the iceberg. With this life path, I was far for the forthright of my thoughts and concerns. I was constantly running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Eating? Sleep? What’s that?
I’m not blaming my caretaking duties for all my bad habits. Sure, in college I had that stereotypical bad habit lifestyle of coffee and cigs all day, late dinner probably something greasy( though I’m not a big fast food person, and I didn’t drink soda unless there was booze in it). OH and that. Booze. But, that was during my college days. When I started care-taking, partying was rare and far in between. I needed to be focused and alert at all times. Emergencies are emergencies for a reason and there was many late night ER runs. Plus, I lost almost all of my friends for one reason or another. I didn’t HAVE a person to indulge with even if I wanted too.
It’s not that my bad habits got worse when I was home care-taking. It just didn’t get better. All day without eating. Eating late. That was my worst habit. Lots and lots of coffee, little food.
For a while though, I was doing good. When the hubs was in his “aggressive cancer treatment” phase, I was on a diet and work out thing. I only managed to maintain my weight. But, that was something. Though I did give up smoking for almost 9 months ( actually short after I graduated college I gave it up)
When the hubs aggressive phase ended, my dad was hospitalized again. Severely ill. He ended up having a mild stroke( which he stills suffers the damage from that) and open heart surgery with a valve replacement and removal of the pericardium tissue around the heart. I ended up care-taking for my fiancée while on the lesser phase of cancer treatment, but still it was active chemotherapy and many many scary moments AND care-taking for my father who needed IV medicine to fight an infection that originally damaged his heart valve. Guess who administered the meds. Yes, yours truly( a nurse taught me how via a pic line put in ) .
Every time I think things are getting better, someone almost dies. So, needless to say I was low on the totem pole but rightly so. This is when I picked up smoking again.
But, a few months ago , I realized something. . I gained weight. A lot of weight. I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been. I stopped taking care of myself. I lost myself, concern and care for myself, over the past few years.
I didn’t feel sexy anymore. Sure, I felt pretty. But not sexy.
That right there was the reason I was ready to cause a Riot. I fight so hard for other people. But, who will stand up and fight for me? How can I fight for my loved ones if I am not healthy? I needed to take a stand, fight back against the chaos in my personal life, and the riot in my head. I needed to put myself first for a change.
It’s wasn’t really the “a lot of weight” I gained. It was more how I felt. I lost my flare. I lost my sizzle. I felt like I was jiggle. My stamina was way down. I don’t totally equate extra pounds to lesser sizzle. It was just the combination of fitness and weight to my true happiness. I wanted to change how I felt inside my heart, my true feelings.
And my father and my fiancée both are getting stronger day by day. I can’t use that as an excuse from treating myself right anymore.
And I won’t.
Starting on random day in July, I started what this blog is all about, what I’m calling and have been calling “my health thing”.
Cause, that’s what I’m fighting for. My mental health. My physical health. My overall wellbeing. I don’t want to assign a number on the scale. I don’t believe those numbers will reflect the level of fitness I want to achieve or present the healthy food for my body I want to consume. NO. It’s not about numbers. It’s about getting fit and healthy in all aspects. Of course, weight DOES need to come off. But, that’s not the focal point I want to promote. This is why you won’t see before or after pictures or see any numbers about my weight. I’m not insecure or ashamed of that. I just don’t want to promote that message of being skinny versus being fat. Or being thin is beautiful and fat is ugly. Also, just because you reach this magical weight loss number or reached a goal weight, it doesn’t mean you will be HAPPY. So, I keep the numbers out of it. The only numbers you seen or will see is a tally of the pounds lost. You can use your imagination on the rest.
My goal is to stir things up in my life, mind and heart and hopefully yours too. Together we can fight back against life and bad habits. Cause a riot of things.
Because we’re worth it!!!!