Mandatory yoga and rest

I’ve done my first day of mandatory abstainment from the gym and stretchy yoga instead… and everything still hurts.

The plan was today and Friday off and yoga-ed…, but are two days in a row better…, or even enough…?

So, now, I must determine if my bodily exhaustion is genuine overworking, or if it is a bit of laziness and/or fear regarding returning to the gym.

At the warm yoga class this afternoon, I struggled with just about anything that used muscles beyond merely standing straight upright… which was almost everything – my muscles were just so tired.

It has me wonder if I needn’t take tomorrow off, too… and possibly Friday, even, if they don’t improve much by tomorrow night…

I for sure am going Saturday – that encourages me.

But I’m also mentally tired, and kind of want to take a break, anyway… taking the next two days off still would have me at doing three classes in the week… my self-esteem struggles with this idea, of course, because 1)it wants me to do better (in this case more) than most other people, and 2)how will my body get awesome results if I don’t put awesome effort into the exercise program?

As my mother mentioned, there is rather the matter of wearing myself out, as well as managing enough protein for so much of this type of exercise… I really need to check how much protein is important to have each day with these – I could be severely under-nourished, despite my increase in protein intake recently… an extra ten grams doesn’t necessarily compensate for an hour of pain and gain, plus biking to get there and back.

I don’t know…

I guess I’ll just see how I awaken in the morning, and go from there.

Separately, but related, my bruises are all over and do look quite terrible at this point… perhaps that can be reason enough to take an extra day of pause from the workouts – I’ll only earn more of them, if I’m tired too soon in the workout. :/

Well, we’ll see mañana, I suppose.

Post-a-day 2019

Photography

I made an actual account and page tonight for my photography… someone asked me today, if I had an Instagram account for it, and so I made one…

I haven’t put any photos on it yet, but I did create it… and that’s already a big step for me. 😛

So, we’ll see how this goes, now, shall we?

The next step, I guess, is figuring out what photos to put on the account, and then to put them there already!

Sounds so easy…

Only slightly terrifying, of course…

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Pity party

Some days, I think I’ve just got to go ahead and pity myself… not so much as a big deal or anything, saying how sad this and what a poor, poor dear I am…, but as a short and sweet, compact little pity party.

We talk about how part of facing our fears is being able first to name them… and I think my little spells of depression can relate much to that idea.

I always acknowledge that I feel I am sucking at life…, but I don’t ever really list it out, say it all out loud.

Tonight, I kind of did in a phone call to my mom… sure, she had some not-so-uplifting, but true things to say, and that didn’t help much in the moment, but it was a good reminder for now.

However, by stating all these things where I felt like I was totally sucking at life, it was like putting a name and face to my current sources of this panicky depressive state from this past week and weekend.

‘This sucks and this sucks, and I feel this way because of this, which totally sucks…., and I feel like a total crap woman because of this, and a total failure in this part of my life, because of this…, etc.’

And I cried a little as I said them, though not lots.

And, now, I feel significant improvement… almost good.

I think I was resisting feeling miserable, because I was ashamed of the circumstances in the first place, and disappointed in my being upset in the second…. and by declaring each upset, without getting all dramatic and angry or anything, by just stating what each piece was, I was able to being letting it all go, letting it all let go of me…

I didn’t tell everything to my mom, so not everything is freed, but everything I told her is mostly totally over for me now.

(There’s one final piece to my weekend stress, and I’m not quite ready to let it go, so I’ll reevaluate it in the morning, if I even still remember it, and I suspect things will go very well after that point.)

So, it seems to me* that this little miniature version of a pity party, in which I say out loud all of the sucky things going on for me in life at the moment, is actually a practical and beneficial means of letting it all go and moving forward with empowerment.

Who’da thunk that a pity party ever would be the answer to truly good things in life? 😛

Maybe that’s why we started them in the first place… we just tend to have a little (read ‘a lot of’) trouble with keeping our words simple and not intensely and immensely dramatic…

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*Dagny would be furious, I know! 😛

Missing Context Clues

“I don’t think it needs the liquid… I think it needs the skin smashed across it.”

“Then smash the skin across it… I’ll go get the tray…”

And, yet again, my mother and I are able to crack up at our own conversations… it happened many times today…, especially when we kept returning to the blueberry-dyed eggs that ended up looking, as I called them, like they were covered in dinosaur boogers… which, I suppose, is another story for another day.

For now, I leave you with little context, and instead give you our thoughts about a lack of context. ;P

You see, we regularly laugh at our own conversations, my mother and I, not necessarily because the conversation itself is funny – though it sometimes and sometimes often is – but because we consider how it would sound to a passer-by, someone hearing it out of context or without the visual guidance of what is currently in front of us… imagine a person standing on the other side of a doorway, hearing our conversation passively…, or someone on the other end of a phone, overhearing things, but seeing nothing…, and you can imagine how absurd that person must find what he or she hears from a great deal of our conversations.

Just the other day, we were discussing how ‘he wouldn’t necessarily look fat, because it depends on whose hand it is…’

Our topic of discussion is clear as day to just about everyone, right?

Oh, wait… it’s just clear for me. 😛

So, that’s what we do oftentimes with our conversations – we realize how crazy they could and likely would sound out of context… and then we laugh a bunch, because it is totally laugh-worthy. 😛

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an open book

I shared a lot tonight.  It almost scares me, because it was open honesty about something that has never been open to the public, something about which I had been for so long ashamed… yet part of me, now, wants to go ahead and share it openly, not anonymously, with the world.  I am not yet ready for that – I don’t know that I want the people who know me to see me so differently as they necessarily would by learning about it all.  No matter how much I can see that it all was not my fault, it doesn’t change the fact that I am still embarrassed at being, I guess one could say, duped.

You know what I mean?  I could have done so much better, despite the odds’ being so much against me… I just didn’t.

And something about that still feels a bit disappointing, though I do not blame myself, anymore.

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Officially Professional

It might not look like much, but it’s kind of a big deal… representatively, anyway.

This, my friends (and people I definitely do not know), is my first official photographer pass and credential as a professional photographer.

Sure, it was for a friend’s band’s performance…, and it isn’t exactly the kind of photography I am aiming to do most of the time…, but it was also for real – I, Hannah, was listed as “Photographer” on the special guest list.

I declared myself a photographer and that I am doing photography (not just ‘trying to get it going’ or ‘trying it out’) this past Wednesday night, and, here I am, Friday night, with an official photographer pass.(!)

How cool is that?(!!!)

Again, it isn’t the style of photography I’m aiming to do with most of my photoing, but it is still totally fun and totally cool!

Special bonus that they are totally okay if none of the photos turned out… I had never photographed a band in a club with uber-nuts lights flashing everywhere except on the band members’ fronts, so it was a good low-risk opportunity to practice and to learn.

(Aah!)

Yay!

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Stressed irony

Jump– jump– jump– jump

—-jump-jump

Aaaaaaahh!

Fleas are just darn terrible, especially without a pet… at least, with a pet, they stay on the pet… without the pet, they spread everywhere, and attack every warm body that passes through (which happens to be my warm body, my being the only one who actually lives here and isn’t a big of some sort)…

Ugh…

Help me, Lord… I have a struggle beyond this, and the fleas are just making everything worse and somewhat terrible.

……..

You see, have you ever heard the song “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette?

This section has lived in my head off and on ever since I first learned the song, way back when:

A traffic jam when you’re already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It’s meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife…
And isn’t it ironic, don’t you think
A little too ironic, and yeah I really do think

It is all too ironic, I dare say, that this line about the man and his wife always stuck with me as a child, and now it has resurfaced in the face of reality hitting the mark of a reasonable validity in the statement.

That is, in more sensical wording, that line has come true for me.

I met this “man of my dreams” several months ago – and he even became the actual man of my daydreams over time.

Every time we are together, I am filled with light and love, and I am inspired to be the best version I can be of myself… and I want him to enjoy himself and have a wonderful time, and I take care to help along his enjoyment in the interaction.

We inevitably have a wonderful time.

And I drink up his smile.

And his eyes… those eyes that keep contact… they are that kind of eyes.

Every new thing I learn about him and every new experience I have with him increases his perfection as this “man of my dreams”.

Everything except the seemingly inevitable, that is…

I finally paid attention enough to his hands this last time I saw him – something I never seem to check on people, and so it had to be a conscious effort this time – and discovered a wedding band.

…::face palm::…

He had on another ring, too, so there was a chance it was just a ring and not a wedding band…, but then I learned of his beautiful and wonderful wife, and their beautiful darlings of children.

It was confirmed…

When I considered it all, I discovered that I truly was unsurprised by the information… just bummed.

All the good ones really are taken…(!!!)

A somewhat jokingly thought thought, but it seems to strike rather truly these days. :/

I never really expected him to be single, available… he’s too great, too comfortable in himself and with me and others… he has confidence in his place with his partner and family.

But there’s always a chance that a great guy won’t be unavailable, I tell myself, because I’m not with anyone, you know, and I’m great…

Anyway…, moving onward…

It stresses me sad to know that this guy, for sure, is not a potential partner in my life.

And… surprisingly,… yet not surprisingly,… I find hope in it all.

Firstly, that this guy exists suggests that it is possible someone else like he is could exist, someone so wonderful.

Secondly, that this guy is such a good guy that he can have a wonderful, non romantic time with me, even though he is married, makes him an even better guy than thought….

Which, then, makes the first point an even bigger and better deal…

Thirdly, there were two tiny, unchangeable aspects to him that I don’t particularly love (but that I found myself to be okay with reasonably quickly as I spent more time with the guy), and perhaps this is a piece of why he is not the one for me nor I the one for him… and perhaps the one for me will share many qualities with this guy, and yet those tiny disliked aspects will be gone in the one for me…

So, ultimately, it’s a good thing… all of it.

And… I’m even relieved a bit… no offense, but I didn’t and don’t want to have those tiny drawback aspects if I don’t have to have them, you know?

I mean, I definitely am still not quite over it all… it is still a blow to know for sure something like this, even when you had somewhat suspected it all along…, but I also can see that I will be over it, and likely rather soon.

I don’t recall at present which character where said it, but pain demands to be felt… I agree with that… when we ignore pain, it changes, but ultimately worsens.

So, I talked with my cousin, just to communicate my frustration and sadness today, because I realized it was time to let this all go… we discovered that I think I need to have a final cry to get the last dregs out and gone in the matter, so that then I can resume a wonderful friendship with a wonderful, inspiring guy.

Post-a-day 2019

Smiles

I am always overjoyed and heartened whenever I am granted the opportunity to experience these beautiful smiles from beautiful people with beautifully arranged, pretty teeth.

It makes me see that fixing up my own teeth actually could have the potential of bringing a similar breathtaking joy to those around me…

Kind of puts a new perspective on the whole idea, as opposed to its being merely a point of vanity and self-confidence for myself…

Something new to consider, I suppose… 😛

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BruiseFit much?

It’s only been about a week and a half that we have been gym-ing…

I’ve attended eight classes in the past nine days, taking two days off over the weekend…

Today, throughout the day, I kept finding new marks and bruises on various parts of my body…

I have no idea when or how specifically I obtained these bruises – the cuts and scrapes I know – but I am guessing that they all have the same locational origin: the gym.

I wonder how many more I’ll find tomorrow, and how much worse the already found ones will be…

As for the most recent discovery just barely below my elbow, on my back arm, directly where I usually place my arm onto a desk or a table (That’s how I discovered it in the first place, putting pressure on it via a tabletop, and suddenly withdrawing in pain.) it has already gone 3-D since I first discovered it.

Yikes…

What a life this is… 😛

Post-a-day 2019