The nightmare of finale dress shopping.

Eleven years ago my Aunty, my younger sister and two of my cousins walked in very excitedly to a local bridal store as we were looking for bridesmaid’s dresses for my Aunt’s wedding that was coming up. So in we go, only to be greeted by a woman that was probably best described as a ‘dragon lady’. Automatically my aunty told her that she would like us to wear halter neck dresses, she took one look at me and said ‘Halter neck doesn’t look good with a big bust’.  You can imagine at this point that I already hated the store and her, and like any 18 year old would got my back up pretty much straight away. The thing is, she could have had a sale of four bridesmaids dresses if she had given my aunty some decent customer service, but instead we walked out, pretty shitty after she made a few more comments and all vowed never to go back……………….

So anyway today spur of the moment Maz (my sister) says ‘I’ll come to Sarrishas with you’. I don’t hesitate because let’s face it when you’re looking for a finale dress another set of eyes is the best thing you can have. So off we trot. Now let it be known that I’m not having the best week as it is, I’m bloated, I’m constipated, and I feel as though my insides are going to fall out, but let’s face it, finale is only weeks away and with being so short I’m bound to need some alterations so what better time to get the ball rolling. Plus, this place is like five minutes from my house so why wouldn’t I go take a look, right? So in we walk, and there she is 11 years later Sarrisha, the evil dragon lady, looking just as evil as ever, but must have softened a bit as she actually greets us with a hello. Maz wandered to look at the dresses straight away while I stood and chatted to her. I actually thought that if I let it be known that I had no idea what I was looking for and that I had no budget and was willing to pay whatever she might feel, one, more in control and two, like she could make some cash. Boy was I mistaken. So I tell her why I am there and where I am going and for what, before I’m even within arm’s reach of the dresses she suggests that I come back in a few weeks. Meanwhile Maz is browsing saying things like ‘I like this one, this style is good ‘etc. etc. She then proceeds to ask me what size I am, I reply with ‘I’m not sure I guess 16-18’. She said ‘Right well that’s going to be hard because in here you are at least a 22’. What the actual fuck? Why would I be a 22? Why is that the case? How is that normal? And why hasn’t something been done to change that? Like seriously what if I was a size 26 and wanted a formal dress? Could I just not get one??? So anyway, after some rambling I finally just asked if I could try some on to get an idea of sizing and style. She said yes, but really didn’t want me to. She gave me a few to try on, and then would say stuff like ‘I don’t have that in your size’ ‘I can’t get that in your size’ ‘No matter what you are going to have to have any dress you buy taken up and alterations done’. God I was so over it I mouthed to Mazzy ‘I want to go’. I was consumed with anxiety and wanted out of there. As we walked away again, I said to myself ‘I am never going back there’, but this time I mean it. Plus, on top of all that her dresses were shit house.

Maz suggested we go check out a shop in a shopping centre, I agreed so off we went. In the car on the way there I was nearly going to tell Maz to turn around and take me home, what if they don’t fit? What if they not only don’t fit but have no chance of fitting by finale? What if the store girl is a moll? So we got some water I sucked it up and off we went. Thank god too, because the moment we stepped in the girl was lovely. She basically said what do you need we told her we had no clue and we were willing to try anything. She even made me feel semi human when I pointed out a dress I like and she suggested I tried a size smaller as she didn’t think it would fit!! Anyway, I tried on a heap of dresses there, and eventually bought one in the size I thought I was all a long, a dress, from a boutique in a size 16! Thanks to my awesome sister for bringing me mountains of dresses and being extremely honest.

Anyway, so we made our way to get sumo salad for lunch, all that shopping makes you hungry!! I said to her I wish there were more shops around where I could just fit into stuff and not worry. Then I was like, fuck it, what’s the worst that can happen, they don’t fit? So off I marched to Portmans, which for me is one of those shops that are fashionable and quality, we found a cute little party dress, and what do you know it zipped like a glove!! I fricken fit in a Portmans dress!!!!!!! Then Maz suggested we had a look in Jacqui E, that’s not a shop I’d even heard of let alone would ever have considered buying from or going into. Off we went in there, and there I saw it, the exact style of dress I want, and now am on a mission to HAVE!! I have my finale look in my head, and I’m not stopping until I get it LOL!!! But I won’t go on that mission for another few weeks when I’m a little bit smaller and hopefully not feeling as bloated as I do today!!!! I’m confident that I’ll be comfortable in this style. But for now, I have a brand new LBD that’s a size 16 and that will get used by me, and probably Maz!!

SSS, Consistency and other stuff

It's the one thing I've never really paid much attention to, in my opinion it doesn't fit in with the notion that we should be changing our lifestyle to reflect something that is sustainable in the long run , therefore my SSS efforts over the past 4 rounds have been rather pathetic, in fact I think I can count the amount I've done on one hand, how contradictive of me when I'm constantly encouraging others to trust in and follow the program to see results. The truth of the matter is, I've never done an SSS and felt great afterwards. I'm sitting here right now with a pounding headache , I'm dizzy and feel as though at any moment I could just pass out, how's that rewarding? But , yet again , today I committed and burnt 1072 calories. I did a total of 8kms on the treadmill which included a couch to 5km session , hill walks on an incline of 15 and a promise to my self I would at no time let the speed go below 6.5. Then after all that I did 3 rounds of my OneActive weight bar DVD , followed but an sets and a cool down. So 2 hours later and I got my burn! There I did it , will I do it again? Probably not! Why? Because i don't en joy it for starters, it's time consuming, though the time restraint isn't an issue at the moment long term it is not realistic on a weekly basis and most importantly I feel like shit now and will not do any form of exercise that may jeopardize me doing a different kind. I'm already thinking about my combat class I have planned for tomorrow and hoping I feel ok to go! 

This week the scales can get fucked. I'm a daily weigher I've never made that a secret and the pros out weigh the cons as to why I keep doing it. So anyway if there was ever a week I was being a perfect 12wbt'er it's this one, yet those bastards are giving me no joy!! I talked with my friend Ange, a fellow 12wbt'er and she worked out to get to my long term goal I need to lose 700grms a week, breaking it down made it less overwhelming , less stressful and seem more achievable , so they better hurry and catch up! 

So this round I really am going to finale but I'm starting to really freak out. What will I wear? What will I say? I'm actually extremely average and rather boring! Will I be ridiculously overwhelmed by the crowds and freak out? Will I have a panic attack and most of all how many hideous photos will show up of me on Facebook ? I'm tipping a few. I'll have my mum and that's probably the best thing!! Oh and I have nothing in my that's going to work in disguising my gunt 

Ive been pretty consistent this round, keeping in mind being consistent doesn't mean being perfect!! Consistency gets the job done but it's soooooooo boring! When you go from being lazy to following the program you have stuff to shout about, when you're consistent it's same shit different day lol!! but yes, don't worry I know consistent is better!!

So life's pretty mellow I feel pretty in control at the moment! I'm heading away for four nights on 27th which will be the big test!!! 

Peace out #D30

Guilt of a fatty

I don't even want to write a blog post this week, but I didn't write one last week, and I keep reminding myself this round is all about consistency. Who the hell am I to even know what consistency means? I wrote the definition somewhere, I can't remember it though, because if I did I wouldn't keep telling myself it's doing the same thing over and over. Truth is, life is being lived way beyond the 12wbt perimeters for me at the moment, and to be quite frank it's the last thing on my mind. In saying that though, I've been sticking to my calories, but not giving a whole lot of a shit about it.

Since my daughter was about 8 months old I knew there was something not quite right happening with her, she would just stare into space for what seemed like ages, but was probably no more than 40 seconds. Of course I took her to the doctor straight away, but was brushed off. These 'spells' started becoming more frequent at some point late last year, so again I took her to the DR and pretty much demanded she see a paediatrician and be referred to some sort of neurological doctor. To cut a long story short, on Thursday it was confirmed that my 5 year old has epilepsy. Everyone I've told so far, which isn't that many have all said the same thing 'Oh you know its fine, so many people have it, it's really manageable'. That is all really true information, for some reason, I really don't understand why I feel immense guilt. There is significant evidence indicating that forceps deliveries can cause a child to have epilepsy (that's how Sophie was delivered) and I keep thinking to myself, what if when they wanted to give me a C Section I had just let them instead of demanding a 'natural' birth? I know I can't change time, but now my child has this neurological disease that requires me giving her foreign medicine twice a day and none of that sits well with me.

So tonight is the first time she's had the drug that's been prescribed 'Epilim' and of course in order to get her to swallow it I had to pin down my 5 year old, block her nose and literally force her to take it. It's emotionally draining on both of us and it's not something that is enjoyable. This really weird thing happens when you become a single parent, you automatically overcompensate with your child. You have all those intuitions that you have when you're in a 'real' family and then some on top. Your protection emotionally and physically of them becomes intense, almost a co-dependent relationship is formed. So I feel guilty that Sophie has Epilepsy so automatically I go into this mode of making sure every base is covered, and freak at the slightest indication that my child is suffering, to the point where a little girl at her school called her gross the other day and I busted that kid, that's not something I would normally do.

Guilt is a funny thing, it's an emotion I think I bare deep down into my soul, one that probably will never leave me, and heck I could probably start my own religion based on the amount of guilt trapped inside me. This week I don't want to eat, I don't want to exercise, I don't really want to do anything, I just want my child to be safe and loved and 'normal'. Time won't stop for me I get that, the sun will rise another day, I get that, and maybe I'm just fearing the unknown.

I'm also really unwell at the moment and my tooth pain is intense, it's also exam week at uni so the stress is on there. I'm sorry this blog isn't more entertaining or goal oriented or success oriented, but it's what has really gone on this week.

Oh No Sorry, that wont fit your GUNT!!

'Oh no sorry that won't fit your gunt'

I've had a fucking GUT full, literally. So this morning my sister and I dropped the children off at school and went back to her house and got chatting about the number one subject on our minds, weight loss of course.

I completely confess, I'm the Mum at the school that really doesn't care. I chuck my hair up, put on a pair of jeans and a top, no makeup, nothing special to pick and drop Soph off at school and whilst I don't for a second give a flying toss what the 'School Mom's' think of me, I guess the older Sophie gets the more other kids are going to pay attention to stuff like that, sad but true.

We were discussing about appearance and the fact that getting up in the morning washing and blow drying your hair seems pointless because you are just going to work out later and ruin it anyway. For me, I only wash my hair once a week anyway.

So then I got to thinking about the sorts of clothing I could wear to school pickups etc. Some Mums rock up in the morning with their gym gear on and they look great, hair tied in a pony, but they aren't 5 foot nothing and fat people would be all like 'Hey look at fatty in her gym gear looks like a sausage'. I thought about my body shape and the fact that I have pretty decent legs, they are probably the best part of me even though they are short, which I guess doesn't make them that appealing.  So of course I toddled off home and started going through my wardrobe. Pulled out everything that I thought was appropriate for everyday use, and then there was a knock on the door 'DELIVERY'.

So there they were my brand new size 16 gorgeous pants. Not to mention size 16 from a NORMAL shop! I love them, they feel great, the material is awesome, as I slide them on I know they are the perfect shape and exactly what it is I was looking for I turn to my side in the mirror before doing them up and admire the look, although possibly slightly too baggy on my legs and then it happens, the same fucking thing that happens every time, there is not a chance in hell of me being able to do them up. I am done, why is my body this messed up? How can my stomach be so out of proportion to the rest of me? I'm not talking I can't do them up as in I could probably squeeze them up, I'm talking there is no way these are doing up. So what do I do? What choices do I have? I don't want to wear stretchy material for the rest of my life; I deserve to wear nice fitting clothes! Do I go shop in the maternity section? Trust me it's crossed my mind! Or do I just still with my friggen leggings and deal with it? I don't know how my stomach is ever going to catch up with the rest of my body, but I am really fucking over it. I've had a gunt full!!! 

Finding Inspiration in Fear

Can fear be a form of motivation?

Throughout this entire journey I've struggled to find things that so call 'inspire' me and that make me want to be healthy and lose weight. This week as part of the 12wbt weekly challenge we were asked to create an inspiration board. Typical Emma, straight away did research and went through everyone else's inspiration boards, of course looking at ways to do my own, without just figuring out what it was I found inspirational. The cold hard truth? There is not a whole lot I gain inspiration from in regards to health and fitness and a sustainable lifestyle. Things I find inspirational include, humanitarians, highly educated people who constantly learn and find joy in learning, women within communities that seek change etc. That's my kind of inspiration, and that's kept me safe for a long time. So it's come to this, in regards to health and lifestyle and 12wbt what the heck inspires me?

So many people have pictures of women in bikinis, women lifting weights in gyms, running pictures, photos of great clean food etc etc,  oh and not to mention the mountain of inspirational quotes also pictured. I am not taking anything away from what another person finds inspirational and completely acknowledge the fact that each person's journey is their own and that we are all completely at different stages, but for me, none of these things are enough to put into an 'inspirational' category. For those who have seen me around, know that from the start the word inspiration for me has been one that I have never quite grasped.

So, because I knew from doing a number of previous rounds that the inspiration board would be one of the first tasks to complete, I started early on, before the round had even started I got my piece of card, Mum printed out some 'inspirational' pictures and quotes for me and there I was ready to create an inspiration board, but for what? And for who? This board wasn't reflective of inspiration it was a series of inspirational quotes I goggled on the internet and pictures of my former self. So I did it, I created this board and went, 'great, looks just the same as the rest, and I'm not like the rest, I'm Emma and this board is shit, and I'm better than that.'

So on Saturday night I couldn't sleep, I was racking my brain for things that 'inspire' me. I all of a sudden was over powered by this extreme anxiety; my brain could not comprehend being 5 foot nothing weighing in the not so distance from 100 kilos and being old. I mean seriously, this is what freaked me out, to the point where I was playing scenarios over in my head, you know the old people that fall over in the shower? Imagine being 100 kilos and falling over in a shower, imagine being 100 kilos and having a fall and breaking your hip, imagine being 100 kilos and having to hold yourself up on a walking frame? Imagine getting to being 'old' and not living a life that was healthy and kind to your body; imagine getting old and not respecting your health enough. Imagine being a young woman and staring the older you in the face and having to see what that would look like? This is all playing through my head! So there it is, it's simple, but in my opinion it's valid. My inspiration is lifelong health. I understand that you cannot choose some diseases etc that occur , but I am also very aware that if you conduct your life in such a way where you are kind and loving to your body in regards to lifestyle choices revolving around health, nutrition and fitness you have a better chance of recovering quicker than if you don't.

My inspiration is drawn from people who make a conscious effort to live a healthy lifestyle, that don't live their lives from one health program to another and that understands and lives what we all already know. I am using 12wbt as a means to get me there. I've had 29 years of not being perfect, I've had 5 of not being the best role model as a parent, but for now, my inspiration is to be similar to those that inspire me. My fear inspires me.

Our anxiety does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, but only empties today of its strengths.”

So here we are on the eve of a new round of Michelle Bridges 12wbt, this will be my 4th round. During my first round I entered a local park run event with my Mum 5km and participated with probably eighty others. Something happened that day, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I felt a sense of dishearten and let down. Nothing went wrong, I showed up, I completed what I went there to do, but I never felt any satisfaction what so ever.

Rewind a few years, two to be exact, a terrible thing had happened in my life, and whilst the onset of how horrible this actually was didn't hit me initially, all most all of a sudden I suffered from post traumatic stress syndrome. This along with diagnosed anxiety meant that what seemed forever in my life I was a very unwell person. Anxiety is a very funny thing, I often describe it to people as an orgasm, if you don't have it or have had an anxiety attack you don't know what you're talking about. This particular period of my life absolutely sucked the life out of me, I was unable to care for myself or my child, I actually did not physically leave my house for a 6 week period, and called on every single person in my world who was willing to step in and pretty much do everything for me. Part of this anxiety meant that I also developed a phobia of driving. For a very long time I refused to drive and couldn't even drive my child to day care even though it was less than 500 metres down the road. Slowly I started driving my Mum around, she would get dropped off after work and I'd drive to a local supermarket or something and we'd buy bits that I needed, though I could never usually be out of the house for longer than 20 minutes or so. We would be at a supermarket and I would literally be clinging on to my Mum sobbing feeling like I was going to die, seems over dramatic, but it's true, and how I felt may not have been in any sense rational , but it was real, I was living this nightmare.

Since that time, lots have changed but something's having never gotten better. I have never ever felt the 'same' since that period in my life and anxiety is something I fight every single day of my life, to the point where some days I really cannot face the world. I'm young, I look normal, I am smart, I'm not unattractive, I have a healthy child, no financial concerns, a loving family, and a great partner, how could someone who has all this be so mentally unwell? I ask myself that every day. One of the things that has remained since this episode in my life is my inability to drive a lone (or with Sophie in the car). I am OK to do short trips as in go to the supermarket, take Sophie to school etc, but venturing out of my suburb/area is very difficult for me. This has resulted in me not doing a lot of things I would love and enjoy doing. 2 and a bit years ago I was the girl who on a Sunday would drive into the city and go on a shopping spree just to get bargains, all by myself without a worry in the world. Now, I can barely do my grocery shopping alone. The illness I live with is something that I have let slowly break me down, most of the time I just exist, then I have little flashes of when I feel like I'm living.

So there I was at Mum's back in February and the registrations for the Mothers Day Classic were up! So what does Emma do? As always it seems like a great idea at the time so I sign myself, my two sisters up and Mum of course! Amanda and Mum are up for the 8km run and Marion and I for the 4km. Straight away Marion laughs and says 'I'm not doing it'. So from that moment I go into instant panic. If Marion isn't doing it, who is going to do it with me? Who is going to drive me there? Who is going to sit in the car with me? It all becomes too much! Even though I am someone who thinks these sorts of events are great, there is no possible way this can happen because Marion won't come with me and Amanda and Mum need to leave our suburb at 7am which would mean getting Sophie out of bed an hour earlier than I need to etc etc, all the fighting in my head starts blah blah blah. The only solution I can fathom at this stage is that I drive into Perth myself. Perth city is about 45km's from where I live and is basically one straight line straight up the free way. So last week comes, awesome I'm injured there is no way I can do it, sorted no worries, nope that injury goes away! So there I am told Mum no Mum I can't do it, of course she says that fine love it's no big deal and even goes as far as saying she won't either and that its fine because it's a great donation to a cause etc and that she will do park run on the Saturday instead. Anyway, I rang Amanda yesterday and she told me they were still going to do it, so I thought right, this is something I instigated, another Fricken thing I instigated and am not going to show up for, all from fear, fear that beats me every single day and here it was beating me again. I thought long and hard and then said 'fuck it' I'm going to go, I'm going to have to drive there and I'm going to have to JFDI. So yesterday I spent the day sourcing a pram to be able to take Sophie along, much to my disappointment I got one almost straight away so that excuse flew out the window. Then there was the parking, and me trying to get Mum to tell me that there wasn't going to be any and that I should probably stay at home. That excuse didn't pan out either. So I went to bed way earlier than I usually did last night and actually fell asleep. My alarm went off this morning and I was wide awake and automatically got butterflies in my stomach, me drive to Perth? It wasn't going to happen. So I sent Mum a cute photo of Sophie still sleeping hoping she'd say aww thats cute don't wake her up, but no nothing, just we will see you when you get there. I walked out to the kitchen, had one of those moments where my mouth was so dry I couldn't actually swallow and was gasping for breath. Then something clicked and said 'Get your shit on, get your kid out of bed and just try'. So I did all that, got Sophie ready got out the door and we were off. I got about 15km's down the road when my stomach started twisting, my palms were sweating over the steering wheel and that was it I was turning around and going home, it was a joke to think I could do this. Something really weird happened next, my Papa drove up alongside me on the freeway and instantly I felt at ease, I was smiling and waving and so was Sophie and we had a little 'beep off' with our horns. Bizarre, and I don't believe in signs etc but it made me just keep going, and I did.

So today not only marks the eve of the next 12 weeks on the program it also marks a very significant day in my world, a day that is rare, where I don't give in to anxiety and I just did it! I did complete the Mothers Day Classic, I wouldn't say it was a great event, even though I got a medal, but it meant the world to me for all the reasons I just mentioned. I can't hide behind anxiety any longer and I can't let it keep beating me, I need to win!! So happy mother's day everyone, it certainly was more than I expected!