Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas…I’m in a funk.

I’m one of those people who says happy holidays. I don’t want to offend anyone or exclude anyone’s beliefs or holiday celebrations…

^Me, Christmas 2004. Much younger, carefree and totally oblivious to how lucky I was to be young and carefree. Youth is wasted on the young!

So, happy holidays and a Merry Christmas to all of you wonderful, lovely, kick-ass readers of this little blog o’ mine.

I know the posts have been scarce, and the projects few, around here lately. It’s somewhat because of lack of time and also because it’s just a hectic time of year.

I remember starting this blog back in 2009, right before my wedding, and hardly anyone read it.

Still much of the same now, it feels, but the analytics show you all are reading. Well, 99.99% of people are reading the espresso DIY cabinet post, but I hope you all are intrigued enough to click around.

Now, 3 years later, it’s odd to know family and friends also read these pages, and I guess it’s left me feeling a bit censored. That leaves me a bit uninspired sometimes because I may come off as very vanilla, when I’m in fact not. I hate the weird looks after a rant or the judgment/guilt after admitting something one feels. I feel ashamed of some of my weight related posts because I’ll write one, and the very next evening invite a girlfriend out to go gorge on beer and nachos with me at the local watering hole. A total contradiction. I know this.

So I’ve been feeling censored, and therefore just a smidge uninspired to come home and lay it all out there on the blog like the good ole days. I’m in a funk of sorts, and the scale shows it. This morning the scale read the highest weight I have EVER been. Ever. EVER. EVER. It may as well have just read WTF so I could just know that my scale was like, “PLEASE STOP EATING OUT!”

I get the memo, Mr. Scale. Got it.

I put myself here, or actually probably Chili’s did because everything on their menu is loaded with sodium, and I gain 5 pounds for a week every time I eat there. I’m not eating there ever again, sorry friends.

But, the scale is a direct representation of how my life is going, I think. The more out of control I feel, the more I eat. WHY CAN I NOT BE HEALTHY!?!?! I’m just going to say it…I want to look good naked for once in my life. Not even for my husband, but for me. Yeah, me. I want to not be repulsed by myself. I can’t be alone in this feeling, right ladies?

I am sad. Why? I don’t know. I am so blessed. My husband just got a promotion, my dog is fantastic, my friends are amazing, family is healthy…why am I not happy? Isn’t this what everyone wants in life?

Yes.

No.

Maybe?

Sigh.

I’m unhappy, and I’m fat. Fat and unhappy. My weight gain leads me to avoid family like the plague, I avoid friends from back home who haven’t seen me since oh…60 pounds ago? See ya in 2014, friends!

I’m rambling, it’s not making sense, and I just want to figure out why I am so damn unhappy and in a funk. Stressed, beyond the normal stress level for a 27 year old woman with no kids. My stress is through the roof.

Why am I unhappy? It can’t just be my size/weight. Maybe it can. Can I really be so vain that this all has to do with my looks? Can it?

I want to be happy this holiday season. I truly love Christmas despite the sadness that surrounds it. You see, it’s the 6th anniversary of my granny’s death on Christmas Eve, and the 12th anniversary of my dad’s death on Christmas Day. Tough cards to be dealt, eh? Yeah, I know it. Still…in the bottom of my in-a-funk heart, I know they want me to be happy. Truly happy. Everyday I’m alive.

And so I will be.

Merry Christmas, and/or happy holidays from me to you.

Love,

Monica

P.S.: I promise more projects are coming. :) Thanks for always being here for me, y’all.