Thursday, July 31, 2014

In which Tryph is never the same girl twice...

This is the soundtrack of this blog post.  I hope the music makes it easier for me to finish writing it.  I've always found music liberating like that.



I've been trying to write this blog post for about 3 or 4 months now, and just haven't been able to quite form the right words.  Everything keeps coming out contrived and wrong.  I haven't quite been able to hit the right tone in what I'm trying to say.  There has also been the fear that anything I write here will be read into, ripped apart and reassembled, but I suppose that is always a risk that you take when you put your thoughts on the internet.

Anyhow, I'll just try to say it plainly.  I have changed a lot in my life, and I will continue to change as I move through it.

Sometimes these changes have been negative.  I cannot and will not deny my self destructive nature, and the times I succumbed to it.  The times I blamed others for my choices and my faults.  The times I spoke before I thought.  The times I acted without all of the information.  There are many times within my history that I did not like the person I was.

In fact I have spent a lot of time listening to the negative voices both inside and around me.  No one has ever torn me down more than I have though... and this post isn't about anyone else.

A year ago, I wrote that I wanted to be deleted.  I was lost in a fog of pain, and sorrow and regret.  A miasma of "could have been" or "should have been" swirled in my wake.

I was full of toxicity in every sense of the word.  I was bordering on alcoholism with how often I would be completely wasted.  I took more pills than were absolutely necessary to sleep... sometimes for 24-48 hours at a time.  And my heart was poison.  Full of hate and anger and jealousy...

A year ago, and beyond that I was at a very low point.  I felt like I couldn't get ahead, and in truth I couldn't because I was holding myself back.

Then things changed.  I don't know what it was, but something changed.  I wish I could take ownership of it myself, but I don't rightly know what caused the shift, but something caused it.  Maybe it was resorting to a job I dreaded having to take.  Maybe it was finally cutting ties to the man who wasn't right for me in any way.  Maybe it was realizing how badly I had screwed myself financially and learning to accept help in surviving.  Maybe it was finding people who chose not to dwell on darkness and negativity.  Maybe it was recognizing that I was anything but fit for my son, and a major overhaul was necessary to make myself right for him.

Maybe it was all of that, or none of it.  I don't know, but I know that where I am right now... a year later I'm in a much better place.

My heart still sometimes hurts, and I still sometimes cry over what could have been.  I'm still not good enough in a lot of respects, but I'm more than good enough in others.

I am confident in who I am, and I don't need anyone else to tell me who I am, or what I need to be... because honestly, by the time they're done talking, I probably won't be the same.

Thanks for listening.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

In which Tryph is still stuck on Passive things

I've gone on about how interpersonal relationships have been negatively impacted by things like social media... but I've been thinking a lot about all of this, and the issue is a lot bigger than just the interpersonal side.

It's the armchair activists that have me pretty frustrated tonight.

There's so much TALK, so many petitions... but so little action out there.

I realize that the conversation has to start somewhere, and that talk is always a part of the solution, but it's got to go beyond that.  Do the research, find out how to help and what can be changed from your own point of view or position.  BE the change, don't just talk about it.

This idea started in my head when someone on facebook shared one of the most disgusting videos I have ever seen.  It depicted a young woman sitting on a bed with a tiny baby.   I'm not sharing it here because honestly sharing it won't change anything... But the baby was crying and this young girl/woman was hitting him.  He was screaming, and she slapped him, hit him with a pillow, kicked him, and shoved his hands away when he reached out to her for some kind of solace.  

It was absolute heartbreak to watch.

The idea of sharing the video was to make it go 'viral' so that someone could 'save that baby'.  And I get it, the idea isn't a horrible one.  It's just... misguided.  Do you have any idea how many babies right now, both in the third world and in our own back yards, are going through this?

It happens every single day, in every single country to any and all children.

If you see a video depicting horrible violence against a child, maybe move to do more than just share the link.  If it's something you feel passionate and moved to do something about... look into things like child sponsorship (which helps provide education, birth control and various other things) or look into how to support and advocate for local groups.  Schools are always in need of parent volunteers.  There are many ways to actually GET INVOLVED in ending things like child abuse.

The same thing goes for other issues out there.  Homelessness, poverty, hunger, mental heath issues... the list is endless.  Next time you feel compelled to share a tweet about something... just... consider how you could actually help.  Raising awareness is only the first step.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

In Which Tryph... has no bloody clue

Another night, another thousand words... give or take.

Here's the problem though, I have no bloody clue what to write about.  I mean, there are a few things I could touch on, but honestly I don't think now is the right time to get into it.  So here I am instead, without much to say in particular.

But I need to write, get back into the habit of it so I'll write a stream of consciousness, whatever pops into my head will go into this page.  I really don't recommend reading it, but if you do, umm... enjoy?

I wrote those words about five minutes ago, and nothing.  I'm pretty terrible at this, but I'm determined to not let the blank page beat me.  Far too often I've thrown the towel in on myself and my goals, we aren't going to let that happen again.

Oh here, what about this.  So the thing that sparked this really, the....

Not gonna lie.  I put the laptop down, went and took my iron, played a few levels of candy crush, confirmed a friend request on failbook, lamented about the fact that too many of my friends live in other countries and thus won't be able to spend my birthday with me, and only now just came back here.  I am pathetic at staying on topic.

And this is part of the overall problem that I have with writing.  It isn't just the phsyical act that I struggle with, it's the lack of focus and direction.  I suddenly find everything absolutely distracting and pay more attention to that instead of what I'm supposed to be doing.

Before you tell me to eliminate my distractions... let me tell you that I always find something else to look at or pay attention to, even if I shut my phone off, disable my wifi, and lock myself in a room all on my own.  Without fail, I will find something to occupy my thoughts.  (Just now, I did the math to tell me how many lines I'd have to type if each line has on average 20 words before I hit my goal of 1000.  The answer, a simple 50, which I honestly already knew, but still took the time to open my calculator to get the answer anyhow).

It's like I sabotage myself every step of the way.  Like I’m working against myself, and maybe I am.  Success is a terrifying thing, isn’t it?  The idea that something I created could actually go somewhere, take off and generally be pretty damned awesome.

Failure is easy, success is hard.

I suppose this is why I often give up.  It’s easier to revel in the security that things couldn’t get better, than it is to climb.

I’m aware that I’m not making a lot of sense, or maybe I am.

Blergh, I’m tired, you’re going to have to forgive me, but I did say that this was going to be a stream of consciousness pile of drivel… perhaps next time I’ll get closer to my goal, since I’m clearly falling short of my 100 words here.  I’m not going to complain… maybe I’ll write a few of the long put off emails I’ve been meaning to write.

That actually sounds like a good idea.  This is my plan. 

Peace out bitches.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

In which Tryph is Anti Social

I asked on twitter yesterday "how do you get over writers block?"

I've been stuck for some time now.  The last project I had any traction with at all in the last year, is a project I was forced to abandon when the person I was working on it with decided to be a douche bag.

Anyhow, I've been stuck for a while now, so I asked twitter... and one response really intrigued me, relating to muscle memory and just typing the fuck out of things daily.  Make it a habit.  Make it a routine.  Maybe this will help sync my mind and my body.

So we're here, blogging.  I figure if I'm gonna do it, why not let people into my broken mind... It's worked before, maybe it'll work now.  Today, today I actually plan to bitch about Social Media.

The very words seem to make it sound like it's meant to be a medium in which to be social, to connect and/or bring people together.

Sadly more often than not it doesn't.  The rips and tears of our social fabric are exposed more deeply on the internet more than ever.  It seems like we talk less, and soapbox/editorialize more.  Friends talk about or at each other passive aggressively instead of talking to each other to work their issues out.

It's sad that on just about any article with an opinion you can't read the comments without being filled with some kind of rage because of the insane and inane things people choose to post with anonymous impunity.

And don't get me wrong here, I'm a firm believer that differences in opinion are what make the world go around... you'll never learn anything new if you don't expose yourself to other thought patterns... But it's the vehemence, the hatred and the lack of discussion that ruins things for everyone.  A friend of mine says that she and I are "Birds of a similar feather" (I'm mangling the quote there, but you get the picture).  In short, she's VERY Christian, incredibly firm in her faith and her God and her place in the world.  I am not, I don't not believe in God, but I don't not not believe.  And we're both okay with that.

It's too bad that social media  has taken this turn, but I suppose it's the fault of the people who use/abuse it.

Monday, April 28, 2014

In Which Tryph is in transition

Growing up I was always skinny.  I was (and am) just under 5 foot 4 inches, and as a teen my weight hovered in and around 110lbs. 

It's been a long time since then, but I don't recall my bones protruding, I don't recall feeling unhealthy.  Heck, even back then I was an unstoppable force that could always keep up with the boys when it came to the physical labour involved in the technical theatre work I used to do.  

But for the entirety of my teenage years, I was constantly criticized for my weight.  I was too thin, I needed to eat more.  It was funny, the people who actually knew me used to come to my defense as a kid... they'd shake their head and say things like "I just saw her eat an entire pot of macaroni and cheese... she totally eats like a cow"  And I did.  I ate a lot, I was just a busy teen who was always on the go and had a very high metabolism. 

Anyhow, I got pregnant, my body changed and my life became a lot more sedentary.  My weight skyrockted while I was pregnant, going from my standard 110 to the low 180's... and that's where it remained.  The highest recorded weight I have was 196.  I don't have many pictures of myself during this time because I hated the way I looked (lets be honest, I have always had image issues, weight was always just a small portion of that).

So as a fat girl, people would make comments about how big I was, or how exercise would be good for me.  And the people who wouldn't say anything, you could see the disgust.  It was always worst when shopping. The girls behind the counter would have that look of "why are you even in my store, don't you know these clothes aren't for fat girls"

Enough was enough.  I made the choice for myself to change my body.  I started eating cleaner (or at least pay attention to what I was eating), and exercise more.  It's been a long road, but I'm close to where I want to be weight wise.  

Funny thing has kept happening throughout all of my weight loss though.  

I keep being told how "perfect" and "beautiful" I am.  
I keep being told to "love the body I have" and that I "don't need to change".
I keep being told how to appreciate my body, that the image I have in my mind isn't okay, and I need to adhere to other peoples standards of beauty.  

It boggles the bloody mind.  

When I was skinny, I was too skinny and needed to eat more.  
When I was fat, I was too fat and needed to eat less.  
When I'm trying to find MY perfect balance in between, I'm still being told I'm wrong.  

This whole 'body shaming' movement needs to bloody well stop.  

Yes, maybe I'm YOUR vision of perfect.  Maybe if YOU had the body I have now it'd be good enough.  But here's the thing.  I'm not you, and you're not me.  I know damned well that I can keep going, and I want to lose the last of my fat, not just because I know I'll look better (at least to me) but also because I'll FEEL better,  both emotionally, mentally and physically.  

Please stop telling me I'm wrong or how to love my body, because I feel like part of loving my body is to carve off more fat and layer on more muscle.  

Love always, 
Tryph