Little Earthquakes

Oh these little earthquakes
Here we go again
These little earthquakes
Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces

Seems fitting right now.  i got my period today. which stings. hard. This past month has been our first month of fertility treatment. My hopes shouldn't have been high- but alas, they were. in the past week- i really thought i was pregnant. I was tricking myself.

my heart is pretty shattered right now. In a way that probably doesn't make sense to most. But that's their problem- not mine. I think most people think its a little pathetic (thats not the right word) to be so upset about getting my period. But considering the roller coaster me and camerin have been on- i think it is more than justified.

i have been crying most of the day, which is definitely not helping- but i don't know what else to do.

my heart hurts. i don't want to type anymore.

Two Week Wait

i am on day 10 of my 2 week wait. and it is killing me. i want to know so badly if i am pregnant, but i am also extremely scared... i don't know what else to really say, i just thought i should update since i haven't in awhile.

this is me and camerin's first month using fertility treatments to try to conceive. i am on all kinds of hormones, and have been a mess the whole time. HAHA. Hormones are no joke. Anyways. my mind is a mess. but i am doing alright. for the most part.

lets get real

i haven't blogged lately. i could rattle off a bunch of excuses why... and none of them would be true.

the real reason... because i am fucking sad. and i have an insane desire to be alone right now.

i don't know how to be right now. i feel lost.

please don't mistake all of that for depressed. I have been depressed before. like the kind of depressed where they give you medication...and not just to give it to you... its because you need it. that is not what is going on.

something happens to you when you lose a baby. something different than any other loss i have ever experienced. all of my losses have changed me... this one...

broke me.

and i will glue my pieces back together, but i will always have cracks- i will never be the same.

today sucked.

it hurt real bad.

my bosses wife is pregnant.... i am incredibly happy for them. but it does make me think about everything all over again.

he posted a video of the babies heartbeat- (quick break- before i finish this story... i am in no way, shape or form mad at him for my reaction. i am beyond happy for him) back to the story....

it was beautiful. but the moment i saw that video (which i didn't try to watch - thank you facebook for autoplay) i was taken right back to the moment my heart broke.

tears and extreme sadness followed. and have continued on and off all day.

its just crazy. because honestly- i didn't know that him and his wife being pregnant would bring up this many feelings. i knew it would be hard...but not this hard.

i love him a lot. He is my work husband. and one of my best friends. and i am very happy for them.

i just wish my happiness for them could overshadow the sadness and painful memories.

i am done writing now. i will try to write more often.

My Story....

There seems to be a large amount of articles discussing "Fat Shaming" lately, and at the very bottom of these articles is a comments section- with is filled with the most disgusting things i have ever read. Reading said comments has actually made me feel ill at times. The judgement and hate that are spewed out in them makes me sad.

I am writing this to tell my story, and my perspective on things such as "fat shaming" and "thin privilege".

It seems one of the most common things people say when it comes to people being overweight- is that they are lazy, unmotivated and are choosing to stay overweight. I don't believe this to be true. In fact i couldn't disagree with it more.

I have spent most of life being overweight. My 5'4" frame weighed 222 pounds at it's heaviest. I was 21 years old. But my story and battle goes back to the 4th grade. I am fairly certain that by the age of 9/10 I outweighed most girls (and boys) in my class. But at that age, i was definitely not aware of it. I was confident, strong, and fun. My grandma used to say that i had the world on a string. That it was my world, and everyone else just lived in it. At that time- she was right. That was my outlook. I was carefree.

But that didn't last. In the 4th grade i got picked on for being fat for the first time in my life. I got told that i was obviously fat because i was developing breasts- and only fat girls had breasts in 4th grade. My best friend made fun of me, and would throw candy wrappers at me, while talking about me eating junk food and being fat. These memories will forever be in my head. For the first time in my life, i was ashamed of who i was. I went from being a fairly popular kid, to the butt of all the jokes in what seemed like an instant.

At this point of my life, i had no idea i was fat. i can honestly say that. I look at pictures now, and i can see that i was chubby, but not what my idea of a fat 4th grader is. My family moved that year, and i switched schools.

5th & 6th grade were a little better, i got to create a new identity. be a new person. meet all new people who didn't know anything about me. I definitely still got picked on, but i decided to survive this time, to fight back. I became a bully in some ways. I physically beat kids up, but i felt justified in my actions because i only beat up kids who were mean to me and my friends.

one thing i vividly remember from 5th & 6th grade was that i longer shopped in the girls section, i had moved to the juniors section. i wore a size 7. i was still in a place where i wasn't completely aware that i was heavy. I couldn't really see what everyone was talking about. What i did know though, was that i wasn't like everyone else, and that i definitely needed to change myself... my body.

6th grade i went on my first diet. Weight Watchers. I lost weight- and was praised for losing the weight. The positive attention felt great. but it didn't last. because it didn't fix everything. What i know now is that there was much more going on than just being overweight.

Junior high was without a doubt the worst. The bullying was almost constant, which lead to me hating school for the first time in my life. I got my first set of bad grades in 7th grade. Bad grades would become normal for me soon. I continued to diet in 7th and 8th grade, with varying degrees of success. I remember asking my mom all the time why my brother was skinny when i wasn't. Why he could eat whatever he wanted, and i couldn't. Why i wasn't built like her. It all seemed so unfair.

By 8th grade, i weighed 180 pounds and was wearing size 18 pants. I hated everything about myself, and wanted more than anything to just be someone else. I dreamed about it, I prayed about it. I tried so hard to lose weight, to change. But it never lasted. Every pound always came back, and it came back with friend.

One day on the bus ride home, i was feeling a little hopeful, the teasing had gotten a little better and was thinking that the worst was over. i was wrong. I looked down at my math book and saw that insults had been written all over it. My book cover was covered with "you're fat" , "you're gay" "no one likes you", "you're ugly" and everything in between. in that moment. i broke. Completely. I officially wanted my life to be over.

Maybe that sounds extreme, but at the time- that was how i was feeling. I started missing a lot of school and i complete stopped trying.

High school was pretty much the same as Junior high- except i got a little bit of confidence back. I had a solid group of friends, and i learned to rely on just them. The biggest thing that got me through high school, was that i developed a persona of sorts. I walked around like i was tough, and intimidating. I created a wall around myself so that i didn't have to let anyone in.

I still got teased in high school. But not just for my weight. I also got teased because i was gay. (which i am not). This became a new thing that i got picked on for. Where it came from? I am not entirely sure. I wasn't gay, but apparently people thought i was. The only reason anyone ever gave me was "because you have purple hair, only a lesbian would have purple hair". that reason made about as much sense as the reason i was given in 4th grade for having breasts.

i fought back some in high school. Especially the gay thing. Instead of telling them they were wrong, i just starting putting rainbows on everything of mine. I bought a shirt that said "I don't even think straight" in rainbow print. I just fed into it. I figured if they are gonna say thats who i am- then i will beat them to it.

High school was when i had my first relationship. I crushed hard on a guy for almost a whole year until he finally became my boyfriend. We dated for 2 years. I loved him more than i ever thought i would. but like most high school relationships- it ended and it didn't end good.  It needed to end. We definitely had our fair share of ups and downs, and at the time they were very very hard on me. I never felt good enough in our relationship. Never felt pretty enough. I always felt like i was dating "out of my league". How did fat ugly Chelsea get the hottest "bad boy" in school to date her? That was a question i frequently asked myself. During our relationship, my eating/dieting and hatred for my body increased. I was constantly in a state of trying to perfect myself. I also began cutting at this time, and my depression hit a new low. All of these things i am sure played into how our relationship was, and how it eventually ended.

When he broke up with me, i was devastated. I was convinced immediately that i would never find another boyfriend. He added truth to that feeling. In a angry post on Live Journal he said "I highly doubt you will ever find someone that will put up with your shit for the rest of their lives". Those words lived in my head for the next 4 years. They defined me, in a way they shouldn't have. We have talked since those days, and have hashed everything out, to the point where i would be beyond comfortable having a drink together and most likely laughing about our overly complex high school relationship.

Those words took up a HUGE amount of space in my life. I am not lying when i say that they defined me for 4 years. After our break up, my depression got worse, my cutting increased, and of course, i gained weight. I began smoking weed almost every day, and pretty much stopped being a productive member of society. I became that party girl who would let anyone do anything they wanted to and with me. I just didn't care about anything.

At 18 i moved into my own apartment. (worst/best mistake ever). What does an 18 year old with an apartment do? Spiral into self destruction. The next 6 months were spent high, drunk and more depressed than i ever thought imaginable. I was hating my body, dieting- with no success, still unhappy. My parents intervened- and made me move back home. Which was the first move that saved my life.

i moved in with my parents- stopped partying, and started going to therapy. I stopped cutting. (after spending 1 night in the psych ward- i was basically scared straight). i began planning for my move to california. I had visited my aunt after i graduated, and had decided that i wanted to live in california. That was the second move that saved my life.

1 month shy of turning 19 i packed up the 1991 ford ranger and drove to california with my Dad. the next 3 months were spent trying to figure things out. I had no friends and my immediate family was all still in minnesota. My body image suffered. My depression suffered. I binge ate often, and found an even greater hate for myself. My family moved to california in August- and thats when things started to even out... maybe.

The next two years were spent making friends, losing friends, being bullied by co-workers, dieting, losing weight, gaining weight, and the biggest indicator that i had an eating disorder. I began taking laxatives as a way to lose weight. Anything i ate, i wanted out of me, and since i hated puking- i figured laxatives were the way to go. I spent easily 2 years with a severe stomach ache because of this.

When i was 21 my grandma died. That was and is the most significant loss i have experienced thus far.  Her death made me make the final decision to get healthy- no matter what. I joined Jenny Craig and finally- something worked. In the first year i lost 50 pounds. i was happy. or i thought i was happy. I was still taking laxatives, and using different "digestive aids" to keep food from staying in my system. That was always my goal- to never keep anything in my system. And if i couldn't get rid of it- i would work out. To the extreme.

At this point, i hadn't had a boyfriend since high school and the cursed words he said in his live journal played on repeat in my head. like a broken record that just wouldn't quit.

A few months before my 22nd birthday i met my now husband. Again i was stricken with those feelings of "how does this guy like me?" i hated myself so much that i couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly like me, or find me attractive.

We spent 9 months "dating" or whatever that period of time is where you aren't official. I was down about 65 pounds- and was starting to get attention for old friends, and old crushes i had back home. I was loving it, but still not happy. I was worried constantly that Camerin would leave me, that i wasn't perfect enough.

i compared myself to all his previous girlfriends, and any friend he had that was a girl. All of them were prettier, and even more importantly- skinnier. I continued to engage in eating disorder behaviors. Binge eating, laxatives, exercise and constant diets. Eventually those weren't working, so i stopped eating. I am not exaggerating when i say that i would go a whole week with only eating 1 meal. Every conversation we had was about food. Any time we went to eat, i never ordered what i wanted, only what i thought i should eat. This continued into our marriage, until i got to my lowest weight ever, 135 pounds. but that wasn't good enough. I wanted to get to 122 pounds- so i could be down 100 pounds from my heaviest weight. I felt like that would be the only way i would be happy.

Every time i looked in the mirror i still saw the Chelsea that weighed 222 pounds. It didn't matter what anyone said- that was who i was. Everyone was lying. I wasn't pretty, i wasn't skinny. i was disgusting and i needed to be fixed. and the only fix, was to lose more weight. My husband recognized this, and very sweetly, suggested i go to treatment for an eating disorder. i put it off for months, until i simply couldn't survive living like this anymore.

I successfully completed treatment and thought that i was cured. i'm not. my eating disorder is still as present as ever, except now- i have weapons to fight it. Even though they don't always work. I have gained some weight back. But i am not sure how much, because i no longer weigh myself. I also no longer count calories... but i still struggle every single day. Every meal, every bite. the eating disorder never goes away. ever. But at least i have an answer now for all the pain and all the struggles. I now know that it was never my fault- it was just how i was made. I was going to have a compulsive disorder no matter what- mine just became an eating disorder.

the point of telling this story, is that seeing all the comments people say about overweight people, and saying it's a choice. are bullshit. i fought my entire life to not be overweight. i NEVER chose it. It just was my reality. Saying people choose to be overweight, is no different than saying they chose to be gay.

i lived life overweight, being ridiculed, bullied, and depressed. i wouldn't wish that life on my worst enemy, and i certainly would never choose it. i tried my whole life to choose something other than being overweight. I know now- that it was my eating disorder. That i have a binge eating disorder, compulsive eating disorder, and anorexia. Sounds impossible to have all 3- but i promise it is. I am living proof.

the other point of this is that when you ridicule, and shame someone for their weight- you never know what their story is. You never know why someone is the way they are. You never know what battle they are fighting. You making a comment about my weight- might be the one thing to send me over the edge that day which could result in me binge eating, or not eating at all for a week.

You can't know a persons story- by looking at them. You can't know all their pain just by their dress size.

That doesn't only apply to overweight people. We need to stop shaming natually skinny people- or people who have "thin privilege". (Which i don't really like saying- it sounds so negative and rude). I will not deny that i believe that exists- there are people who are just naturally thin- but that does not mean they don't get their fair share of body shaming. They get people asking if they have an eating disorder, or telling them to go eat a cheeseburger (i am guilty of doing this). They get a lot of bullshit that they don't deserve either.

We as a society need to stop BODY SHAMING. as a whole. NONE of us are in any position to judge anyone else. We are not better than the next person- and we are not entitled to tell them how they should be living, and especially how they should look. We need to all look inside and see the beauty that is in all of us. We need to talk to each other how we would talk to our loved ones. We need to respect our bodies. Talk nice to them, treat them with kindness. We need to only focus on being healthy and above all happy.

Wow- that took forever to write. and was a serious roller coaster... i am exhausted now.

You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here...

Lately i have been feeling a strong desire for alone time. thats rare for me. i am usually one of those people who hates being alone. right now- thats all i want.

i find myself staying late at work, just so i can get 15 minutes by myself.

there is nothing bad at home. Me and Camerin are great- but sometimes at the end of the day- i just don't feel like going home.

for the first time in my life, i want to go on vacation by myself. just go to a hotel for a night or two, and do whatever i want to do, which would most likely be nothing. and that sounds amazing. maybe drink a bottle (or 2) of wine, and just forget the world.

Ever since losing the baby, i have had this urge. I want to shut out the world, if only for a few minutes. i know i have been isolating myself, but i don't care. it is honestly what i need.

I feel like when i am alone- i have no one i need to impress. no one to take care of. no one that needs me. and that is refreshing.

i am not looking for sympathy, or pity or anything. but being me, can be exhausting. through treatment i have tried to learn how to take care of myself, how to set boundaries, etc. But it doesn't always work. I was created to be the way i am. And i fully accept and appreciate the gift i was given by god. I truly view it as a gift. I am blessed to be sympathetic, empathetic, caring, understanding, giving, etc, etc. but the problem with it is, that no one can give me what i give them. i have a high standard, a high desire for the same care to be given to me- and it just doesn't exist. and i think that is true for everyone. We all have these expectations, standards. we expect people to treat us the way we would treat them or others. but that is not achievable.

we are all unique, and give and care for people in our own way- so no one will ever be able to do it the way that we do.

its just like my mom asking me to do chores as a kid. I would do them, but not the way she would.

we can't hold people to our same standards. unless you give nothing- then i suppose you could. but for me, i can't.

i never expect anyone to handle me and my needs the way i would handle theirs. So in moments of my life, where i feel how i feel right now, i would rather be alone- and handle and care for myself. Because i am the only one who will give me the care i need.

i am definitely rambling now. and this post probably makes absolutely no sense.

with my miscarriage- there is no one who knows what to say- because no one is feeling what i am feeling. The only person who understands is camerin. And i am not saying that to be a bitch- but its the truth. no matter how sad my family is, or my friends are, it wasn't their baby- so there is no way they feel what i am feeling.

there are also NO words they can say to make anything better. In fact- i wish people wouldn't say anything. just give me a hug.

so often when people are hurting, we search for words to say, and ways to relate. When in reality there is no way we can. in those moments all we can do is listen, and give hugs and affection.

i don't want to hear "it will get better with time" , "it is probably for the better", "at least you were only 8 weeks pregnant", "at least you didn't have a stillborn", "it happened for a reason", "i miss the baby too", "you will feel better when you get pregnant again", "don't be scared, you got pregnant, you can get pregnant again", etc, etc...  i could go on for days. all of those words hurt more than they help.

i have gotten away from the point of this blog. the point is. i just want to be alone. and the fact that i want to be alone so badly, kind of scares me. makes me nervous. but it mostly makes me nervous because i don't know how to explain it. everyone asks questions, because it is so not like me. all i can say is, its nothing against anyone in my life right now, but chances are i don't want to hang out, and i don't know when i will want to again... please accept that for being that simple. there is nothing else to it, except that. i just want to be alone.

reality

everyday reality sets in more and more. everyday is another reminder that i am not pregnant anymore. every baby i see is another baby that isn't mine. as if the struggle of overcoming my loss wasn't enough- today ED has decided to make a vicious comeback. Louder and stronger than ever before. i am not exaggerating in the slightest when i say that ALL DAY i have been thinking about my body. Every thing i have eaten today has been a struggle. Every bite was a mental battle where ED was telling me not to eat. All i want to do right now is not eat. i know i can't do that. i know that ED won't work the way he did before. and that i can't take him back into my life. but right now- he seems like a nice distraction. i want so badly to not feel any of the things i am feeling right now- that i really don't care if it hurts me. i want to sit and cry. for hours, for days, for weeks. I want so much to not wake up every morning and put my happy face on. I want to escape. i want to go back in time. I want to be pregnant again. i want a lot of things. but more than anything, i want to be happy. and i want to feel like myself again. i don't know who this chelsea is. I miss the old chelsea. will i ever get the old chelsea back? i guess that is something to think about. How can i ever be that person again? i am changed. nothing will ever be the same as it was. and maybe thats the hardest part about all of this. i want to forget. i want to pretend nothing happened. i want to pretend i was never pregnant. that i was never walking in the baby aisles, planning my future childs whole life. i want it to have just been a really crazy dream with a really bad ending. but thats not reality. and i know i have to face reality. but how? how is that even possible with ED breathing down my neck? i don't like these feelings. they are very much unwelcome in my life. but i don't know how to stop them. when i left treatment- i felt so strong. so powerful. so full of life. Lately i feel weak. powerless. sad. i want that to change.

Getting caught up in the "Why Me"

this week has been challenging so far. This sunday would have been the completion of my first trimester... if i was still pregnant. This week would have been the week where i was getting all excited and ready to tell everyone... instead i am crying and not sleeping. i don't think i have slept since i saw my babies heart not beating. everyday i feel more and more exhausted. But i am trying to keep pushing through. This week though... is hard. this month is pregnancy & infant loss awareness month. That doesn't help either.

i have been real positive for the most part. but today and this week, i find myself getting caught up in the "why me".

Why me? Why us?

I am married, to an amazing husband. We both have good jobs. We are both healthy. We pay our bills on time, are responsible, aren't addicted to anything, etc, etc... We waited 2 years to try for a baby so we could have that time to grow and become fully prepared(or as prepared as you can be). We have done everything the way it is "supposed" to be done, and yet we lose our baby while teen mom can't cast their shows fast enough...

I was raised to be a non-judgemental person, but right now- i am finding that harder and harder to do. I know everyone has there own struggles. But when i am getting lab work done, or going in to have a second ultrasound to make sure they weren't wrong, it is hard to see pregnant 16-20 year olds.

the only thing i have ever wanted from my life, is to be a mom. I swear, thats it. My mom is the most amazing mom, and my whole life all i have wanted to do was be a mom like her. So losing our baby, feels like my dreams were stolen.

i am trying to push through the "why me" and the judging. trying to break through the bitterness and the sadness, but its hard. sometimes are better then others. today- is a bad day. Yesterday was ok. Hopefully tomorrow will be good.