Nothing Tastes as Good

When I was in the "fun" phase of losing as much weight as I could in hopes of being shexy, I printed up a bunch of slips of paper and taped them to my cupboards in a humanishly weak effort to white-knuckle my way into giving up cookie dough for good.
"Nothing tastes as good as it feels to be thin," they said.

I used pink ink and a curly-girly font.

It was a lost cause.  The harsh reality is that I can make cookie dough with my EYES CLOSED thereby avoiding any and all forms of reading, be they recipe or daunting little dieting mottos.

Today I was triggered, angry, PMSing and hungry.  It all added up to me wanting to escape into something... I sat down at my computer and wondered what TV show I could stream.

I instantly thought of a show I gave up a few months ago.  If I tell you what it is, will you promise not to make fun?  It's Switched at Birth.  Wait... did I already tell you that?  Apparently, I have no shame.  Which, I'm learning, is IDEAL.  So... yay!

Anyway, the show has strayed from the original idea of the complexities of mixed families and physical challenges to boyfriend stealing and Jesus-hating.
Well, not Jesus-hating EXACTLY.  But it felt that way sometimes... like Jesus is some old fashioned idea that only weirdies buy into.

It isn't just Switched at Birth I've given up.  It's a lot more than that.  It's any and all movies that make me uncomfy.  It's music that makes me squirm.
I can NEVER make it to the radio dial fast enough to keep Blake Shelton from singing about "hands down, best ever, make up sex."
Ick! Abort!  ABORT!

Is it because I'm suddenly the biggest square on the block? 
Or is it because my life is so heavy and complicated right now that I absolutely can not gamble with the idea of NOT having the Spirit with me?

Because I'm big into movies (I love stories!) and television shows (I LOVE stories), I always thought one of the hardest things for me to give up would be my shows.  But as it turns out, it isn't hard.  I'm not pining for them or struggling or constantly thinking about what I'm missing.

I'm kicking it with animated flicks and Andy Griffith and Bonanza and LOVING basking in my old classic movies.

And really: no fleeting emotion ever feels as good as having the Spirit with you.
It's not worth the trade.

The jury is still out on the cookie dough though...

Nightmares

A few nights ago, I rented "Rise of the Guardians" through our PS3.

  

via catholicbychoice.wordpress.com

My husband bought a big package of licorice, I popped some popcorn, and we all sat under big blankets and watched the movie.

The kids loved it.  Of course they did.  It's about Santa AND the Easter Bunny AND The Tooth Fairy.  I mean, could a movie be any better?  My husband loved it because certain parts made me laugh so hard I cried, and he loves it when that happens.  I loved it because it was all about fear -about conquering fear.

Please stay with me while I tell you about it.  It's going to sound crazy, but staaaay with me.

The Boogie Man is named Pitch Black.  He wants to attack children with fear.  He sends them nightmares and tries to take joy out of their lives.

There are certain Guardians that are called on by The Man in the Moon (staaaaay with me) to protect the children.  There are four Guardians: Santa (named North), the Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy, and the Sandman.  Because Pitch Black has grown so strong, the Man in the Moon calls a new Guardian to assist the original four: Jack Frost.

North: Who are you, Jack Frost? What is your center?
Jack Frost: My center?
North: If Man in Moon chose you to be a Guardian, you must have something very special inside.

At this point, North illustrates his point by giving Jack Frost a Matryoshka doll of himself.  Each consecutive shell illustrates North's different character traits: powerful, jolly, mysterious... until the center doll is revealed.  In North's center is a doll that illustrates his grand sense of wonder.

  

via idontlikeitpaintitred.tumblr.com

That was my favorite scene... probably because I just wrote my inventory and had my own Matryoshka Doll experience.  I discovered what was at my center, and I'm using it to fight my own demons.
In my case: mostly fear.

The past few nights, I've been having fear-related nightmares (as opposed to fun-related nightmares? come on, Alicia...) and I wake up with my heart thumping.
My husband cheated on me.
My husband mocked me when he saw me in pain.
My husband left me.
My husband hurt my children.

These are the fears I'm letting go of -these are the fears I thought I HAD let go of.  But here they are at night, hashing up feelings I've dealt with for years.
I've worked hard to heal, and I didn't ASK for these dreams.  I didn't bring them on myself.  They're just... here.
It's like my own personal Pitch Black, creeping up from under my bed to poison my dreams.

I need my own Guardian to conquer my fears. 

Are these MY version of user dreams?  I've been using fear for SO. LONG. that letting it go has proved something of a shock for my brain?  I don't know. I do not know.
All I know is I'm tired.  I don't want to go to sleep, but I want sleep more than, gosh, everything.  I have a three month old, for crying out loud.  The bags under my eyes were already approaching epic proportions.
I wake up every morning filled with emotions toward my unsuspecting husband who has NO IDEA he spent all night making my life hellish.
Poor kid.

Today I'll focus on my center.
Today I'll focus on my Guardian.
Today I won't give fear any credit.