When suffering from depression, or mental illness; it can be very hard to live in domestic partnerships. This is especially true, when the partner of the sufferer, has no interest in gaining coping skills to off set some of the dramatic emotional upheavals that are bound to occur.
We don’t plan our depressions; it can take years and years of self awareness to pin point all the potential triggers, as often times they tend to be more subconscious programs. Dates, places, and phrases can, and often times, will set off a new bout of despair.
When the despair hits, it leads to an overwhelming feeling of being misunderstood, and alienated. These feelings amplify self criticism; making the already annoying self critical response clock in off the charts. A pervasive weight of ” I can do nothing right.” and “It’s all my fault.”
The thoughts and feelings that you may have had on “good days” now are second guessed and reduced to illusion. That voice of illusion, says “No one really loves you. No one ever will.”
It’s hard not to feel crazy when logic and emotion collide in the confusion of depression.
This is a piece I wrote while in a domestic partnership, that led me to spending a night in jail for domestic violence. I started attending drug, alcohol, and domestic abuse classes for court.
Many times through the 7 months that I attended, I asked my partner to come with me; as I felt they were sharing a lot of useful information. I also thought it would put us on the same page, so that we could move forward, together.
However, he was not interested in those classes; which said to me, he didn’t really care about Us. It broke my heart, and inevitably we split up. For years, I wondered, “what if? What if he was invested in my desire to get better? ”
I have since had to move on from that, and accept where I am, and who I am today. I know that not just any one can handle the unforeseen upsets of the future. It will require strength, patience, and cooperation.
When Words Signal the End.
This frustration builds. This love, a lie. And I am burning for more than this disappointment.
I am yearning for more than this fear of abandonment.
Alone with these thoughts and feeling, despite the activity around me; this soul is closed. All the doors are closed.
We can’t communicate. You say my reality isn’t valid.
It really isn’t yours to judge, but you do; constantly.
You blame me for being some fucked up artist.
It isn’t that, at all.
Can’t you see, sometimes we are both wrong.
No. You control. You blame. Nothing changes.
You bribe the master, waiving possibilities in my face. Nothing is ever manifest; it finds itself as watered down truths, dripping lies from your lips.
I am down, because you keep me there.
I am mad, because you show you care, in the most fucked up ways.
Days later, you apologize; so we keep riding the storm.
Love borne Hate. Emancipation is evident. All of this too late.
I am debating my hate; trying to hold my love, but I am drowning.
It’s astounding to watch from the wings, as I take swings at your face.
Wasting time, like it’s easy to buy; when really it’s hard to replace.
I want for you to show me something real; but the wheel of life turns and this heart burns with heartache.
Love is a dish best served cold, old and mouldy upon a paper plate. Swarming with fly larvae,
It isn’t tangible; it causes vertigo as my brain starts to go south.
My mouth a cesspool of verbs and curving words; they slice like a knife, through this paper flesh.
Should I regret this venture?
It’s too late, this path paved with good intentions, gone awry.
The repetitive question; Why, why, why me?
Why this mess? Why?
I confess; I am the mess. I am the beast with talon feet. I am the rage and the endless sadness. The builder of madness and tears that never seem to dry.
I try, but you call me the catalyst… The baddest bitch, you know.
Blow by blow your words knock me down, and add to the scowling.
Sweet inner child caught in the frowning, forgetting recollections; the brief reflections of innocence.
I am just an artist, with nothing to show; but a hole in my head where I’ve let these words go.
Are you familiar with the action of a wrecking ball?
That is Sara Goossen in a nutshell. The lady is powerful, energetic, and ready to knock excuses out of the way. She is a bright and compassionate person who sees the potential in people and then helps individuals harness their inner bad ass. This talent is an imperative staple in her personal business model.
October 1, 2012, Sara opened Fit Body Boot Camp- Cheyenne, with 14 clients. Her goal is to change the lives of 5000 of Cheyenne’s citizens by 2017. As of April 2015, she has trained and cultivated a community of 1200 residents who are interested in adopting a healthy life style. That is an average of 400 people a year, getting active and aware in the fair city of Cheyenne and it’s surrounding areas. No small feat for this 5’3″ wrecking ball.
Sara and I got together to discuss her fitness past and her optimistic fitness future; how she came to start FBBC and some of her own trials and tribulations in the fitness process.
Before I jump into the interview, I would like to state that when you are looking for a gym, and a support system to help you change your habits; having a leader like Sara is imperative because she has run the gamut of unhealthy eating and body weight issues. She has children, she knows struggles and excuses. She has taken initiative on her own, in her own life in order to transcend her past hang ups. In turn Sara has turned hardships into valuable insight for those at any point in their fitness journey.
It may be easier for certain people to take her ethic very seriously because she didn’t start out on this lifestyle right after high school or college before having children; when most women’s bodies are still in that youthful metabolism. She wasn’t always healthy. It was a choice that she had to dedicate herself to; which meant a long road of challenges that led to the changes that are evident in her today.
Let’s find out more, shall we?
March/April 2015; back in the game after a 2 month break.
STATS
AGE: 28
HEIGHT: 5’3″
WEIGHT: 145.3 lbs
FAVORITE EXERCISE: RUNNING STAIRS, WORKING THE BACK, AND SQUATS
LEAST FAVORITE EXERCISE: BUILDING CLIMBERS
Breaks are temporary… This lady is out to GET IT DONE!
Let’s talk about your fitness past, eating disorders, all that stuff.
It goes so far back, it’s disturbing… so, okay, 10 years old; my mom told me I needed to stop eating granola bars because they were making me fat and at that point in time I had just finished some book, I can’t remember the title of, and it was talking abou this girl who would throw up, because she was so fat. So…I…followed suit.
Thank God for Children’s Literature, right?
Yeah, I was like, “Well, now I am well informed and I can solve this problem.
(Sara reminences with awkward laughter.)
So, at ten years old that started fourteen years of just roller coaster disordered eating; ranging the spectrum of binging and purging to just starving myself. When I got pregnant with my son, when I was sixteen, I kind of just said “Fuck it. It doesn’t matter if I am skinny; it doesn’t matter if I am fat…I am pregnant. I can eat whatever I want and have no guilt.” I gained 50 pounds when I was pregnant with him, and I lost ten. I lost some weight nursing, but after I stopped nursing him, I continued the disordered eating cycle.
Just picked it up where you left off?
Yep, just picked it up right where I left off. And I knew… I was an athlete in high school, I knew about nutrition but it’s not something that I ever listened to because disordered eating was so much easier than learning how to feed myself. At nineteen I married my now ex-husband, (my daughters’ father) and gained all that “happy weight” I maxed out the scale before we got married, at 197 lbs…. so, I looked like a cow in my wedding dress.
None of this happens over night… it takes time to get to either end of the spectrum. Which one would you prefer to be closer to?
Thank god for girdles….
After that we were trying to get pregnant with Emma, and couldn’t get pregnant… couldn’t get pregnant. We tried for two years, and I finally went to the doctor and asked “what is going on?” I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) and the doctor told me that I had to make a lifestyle change, or else…. “you’re going to end up with diabetes; you are more apt to have certain types of cancer, you are just going to get fatter, your thyriod is going to peter out…” All the things that go along with PCOS… “This is your future. You either make a change now or enjoy your future where it is headed.”
At that point I sought help because I knew my disorder was no longer a sustainable way to live life. It wasn’t mentally or emotionally healthy.
So I lost about 20 lbs. and we got pregnant with Emma through a series of fertility treatments. When I was pregnant with Emma I only gained about 20 lbs and then I lost it all right away. At that point they (the doctors) said “Well you are probably not going to be able to have any more children, so don’t worry about it.” And I thought, okay, cool; I am just going to go back to doing the whole weight loss thing, because I still had fifty pounds to go.
So I lost another twenty pounds, and then I got pregnant with my daughter Ileena… BOOM! I remember going to my dads house and saying, “Well… I am pregnant again just when I was gettting my ‘sexy’ back.” My grandma looks at me and says “Well honey, maybe that’s the problem.”
Double edged sword on that one…
Yeah! So I got pregnant and did that whole thing and I only gained fifteen pounds with Ailena , and I lost that all right away. November 2009 I found Body For Life, Bill Phillips, transformation.com ; whom I heard about from my step-mom. So I thought, I am going to try this thing. (Everybody thought I was crazy for starting during the holidays.) It was pretty easy; three days of lifting, three days of cardio, all high intensity intervals. By doing that the next three months I was able to loose the rest of the weight. About half way through that three month process I was like “Ya, know, I want to help other people because I can do this as some one who has struggled their whole life with eating well and taking care of themselves … I can help some one else do this.”
I got my personal training certification.
How long did that take you?
It was about four months and about that time I was working for my dad as his administrative assistant amoung other things. I decided that I would try this training thing before and after work, and see what happens. I did that and it just blew up, so in June 2010, I quit my job working for my dad and I started training full time.
I was doing a lot of one on one training and two boot camp sessions at a local gym. I was making money, doing something I love. I worked there for two years and I left because there were some issues that made it neccessary for me to get out of that environment. I decided, I am just going to start my own place; I left and they came after me with for violating my no-compete/ no-solicitation agreement.
Looking back, I was so mad at the time. I was furious, like how could they do this? How can this stand up? Well, it stood up because I had solicited the people who had signed up with me, but were also their clients. I had to take a year off of training and I went back to working for my dad for a year and within that year I knew I needed to do something. I was miserable.
When you are following a life of passion and suddenly it is taken away; it’s like the wind has been knocked out of your sails. You don’t even feel like a human being. I started looking down in Colorado for places I could move to and open up. I was doing all this during the same time I was being sued and working for my dad; I also had gotten a divorce from my kids father. It was everything that could go wrong, did.
I was at an impass; like shit, what do I do?
I looked down in Boulder and I spent about six months driving back and forth, just looking for a location I could open up. I encountered road block after road block.
By this point I had already talked to the CEO of Fit Body, who has been a long time friend. I told them, I want to do this but I have to wait until this year is up or I am screwed.
Was that part of your Non-compete agreement? Did you have a time limit to wait?
Yes, that was the year. One year to the day, October 1, 2012; we opened up with fourteen clients. I was just so excited to be open and be able to do what I love to do. That’s it… the rest is history. Here we are today; looking for another space, a bigger place… sitting down with the bank and talking about bigger loans.
The beginning bare bones of a fitness fortress in the making.
That’s pretty quick, only three years.
Yeah, less than three years actually.
How do you know the CEO of Fit Body?
The fitness industry is so small, it really is. So if you don’t know every one you soon will if you stay in it long enough. I met him doing a master mind. I was in there with the two founders of Fit Body Boot Camp, Steve Hochman and Bedros Keuilian. I was in Steve’s Master Mind and through that I met Bedros. We had several conversations and talked on the phone several times, emailed back and forth; He called me up one day and said ” What’s it going to take to get you to open a Fit Body? And I told him, “You know what it will take, you know what I am up against right now. It’s going to have to take one hell of a deal and some patience and that is where it’s at.” So he said “Alright, let’s make it happen.”
At this point it was going from licensing to a franchise, so they were looking for people and I just happened to be one of those people.
Do you get together with other gym owners?
I do know a lot of the Fit Body owners simply because we get together quarterly; every three months, usually in San Diego or Chino Hills, California. There is a great community with in Fit Body, even from a corporate structure coming all the way down to the clients. It’s nice that we can just continue to pay it forward. It’s pretty cool, and a very unique situation.
Would you like to talk about your competition stuff?
OH YEAH! Sure! I don’t want to bore you to tears with business.
I first competed in August of 2011, I also ran the Denver half marathon in October 2010, and after that I gave myself permission to never run again. (laughter.) I find it really useless and painful. It turns out I am better suited for lifting heavy things than go fast.
2011 looks good on Sara Gosseen!
Did you do this on your year of sabbatical?
No, it was right before everything blew up in my face. Then I competed in my second figure show August 2013.
2013 looked even better!
Did you win anything?
I did. I placed 5th in the second show, I was pretty excited about that. Granted there were only six figure competitors, so I was 5th, but I was happy to have something to take home, regardless.
My first show I did there were 36 figure competitors, and I think I finished 34th. So I was like, “I think I have improved!”
‘High Knees” are different than heinies… make sure both are in good form!
Were these in Wyoming?
The one in 2011 was in Loveland, Colorado. The Warrior Classic, and the other one was in Wyoming, and that was the Jay Cutler Classic. And that Dude, is a Big Dude. I have a picture of him somewhere.
Not only is Jay Cutler bohemoth, but he makes Sara look like a tiny lil tea cup. Jay Cutler Classic 2013.
He was there?
Yeah, he is huge! He is a moose of a man! My head is as big as his shoulder!
He could pick you up in the palm of his hand!
Honestly I am getting the bug again, to compete. I am trying to weigh out the time commitment that it takes, along with my other obligations to see what it will take… if it’s something I can feasibly do right now while keeping everything else balanced. I do love competing .
If you wait to have your own place, you could put on your own competition, in house competition. Then you won’t have to go too far.
That is one of the most fun things about competition; you get to meet so many interesting people from all over the country. People who are busting their asses just to get super lean for just a minute. It literally lasts a day. You deplete enough to have a six pack for a day, and then you gain 20 pounds the next day because you drink water. It’s crazy.
It would be interesting to time lapse a person going through the build up to competition, and then the 24 hours afterward. Once you get the tanner off, and start drinking water again, it’s like what the hell? You blossom like a flower.
You still eat, you carb load the day of to fill out your muscles because you have depleted to the point that you have taken all the glycogen and striped your body of literally everything. It’s not something you want to do often because it is kind of dangerous, BUT, it’s still fun to push your mental ability and physical barriers. That is big for me, because I love the challenge.
Are you a challenge junkie?
I totally am! I love the personal challenge. Competing against other people is fun, but figure prep is anywhere from 2-5 months.
It’s kind of interesting that you have struggled with disordered eating which is in and of itself sort of an addiction, and pushing your body to a limit and challenging it, but not in a very healthy way. And here you have turned your addiction around to a healthier way of expressing it. Yet, there are still these extremes that you go to.
It totally is. What I think helps me with competing and the lifestyle of body building is the structure that it provides. It’s like a security blanket. You take some one with an eating disorder who has struggled with that their entire life, and you say, “you don’t have to struggle, here is some structure. Have a nice day.” It’s like, “okay, this is safe.”
Then the biggest struggle, is will power to be able to keep on the regamine.
Yeah, it’s like any other fitness goals… as long as you have that dead line… the finish line at the end; it makes it that much easier. It’s not like you have to do this for a lifetime or else… It’s here is your dead line, and then you reset the goal. And that is something that is really, really exciting for me.
Through competing I learned to accept my body, where ever it is; whether I am 120 pounds or 145. I am still strong, I am still beautiful and I am still worthy of love and acceptance and success. That is one of those things that I have accidentally learned through the process. It is a by product.
I know a lot of people who compete who struggle with that mindset. Like if they don’t have a six pack they are done for. They are like “Oh My God, My Life Is OVER!”
It basically boils down to bulemia or dysmorphia. It’s all activated on the same brain wave length, same neurological pathway. It’s been nice to find freedom from that as I have gotten older. To not be stressed out about the numbers, to see yourself and be like “You look good!”
IT’s a good example to your kids, too.
I hope so. Sometimes I wonder, “am I ruining these little people?”
Mommy, Wife, Business Owner and Encourager of the Masses… what can’t this lady do? Photo courtesy of Lacey Dippold Photography
Instead of “You’re the reason mommy has a drinking problem,” it’s more like “You are the reason mommy has an exercise problem.”
That’s funny beacause when I took two months off earlier this year, my kids were like “what is wrong with her?” I did not feel like myself. I felt like I was insane most days; like absolutely bat shit crazy.
You needed to be exerting yourself.
Yeah, I needed that rush of endorphins and I think it was something that I had always taken for granted because I have been doing it for so long, it’s just been part of my life for so long. When I completely took it out, I had no idea the impact it would have on me. Not just physically but spiritually, emotionally and mentally. I got to tell you, the week we started working out again, my husband and I; He was like “Gosh you are so much easier to be around.” And I knew he meant that in the sweetest way possible, instead of being a jerk, and I was like “I know, trust me, it’s easier to be in my head.” I went to the doctor and I asked am I schitzophrenic, what is going on here? And she said “I think you are depressed.” And I just needed exercise.
So tell me about your favorite success story to come out of here.
My favorite one, honestly, is from when I very, very first started. He followed me when I opened Fit Body. His name is Austin, he was 16 when he came to me he was 386 lbs. and he was tall and huge. He knew he had a problem. He was home schooled so he didn’t have a lot of interaction with other kids. The reason he was home schooled was because when he was in school, the other kids were just horrible to him because he was so big and kind of awkward and quiet.
He would come, every single day to Boot Camp. At that point in time, they were 1 1/2 hour sessions, he would show up at 6:00 AM, every day. And even if he couldn’t do it, he would struggle through it.
He asked me, “what do I eat? how do I do it?”
His mom was onboard, but I didn’t see her much. Sometimes she would come and walk while he did Boot Camp. Every now and then she would come talk to me, well when I took the year off, Austin started power lifting and he took his focus off the weight loss. Then he came over to Fit Body when I opened, and he brought his mother with him, and they did it together.
It was just so, so, so cool. He ended up losing 110 lbs by the time he was 19. Then they moved to Oregon. He was such a great, great kid. It was just so cool to see how he was able to influence his mom because it’s usually the parents who influence the kids. He was able to influence his mom after two years of going at it by himself.
Was she also over-weight?
Yes, she was, but such a nice, nice gal. I look back on those two, especially Austin and I think “That kid could have made every excuse in the world because teenagers do, adults do. Teenagers learn from what the adults model.” He just was like “I am tired of this. I am tired of being the ‘fat kid’. I don’t mind being a ‘big kid’, I am 6’3″. But I am tired of being the ‘fat kid'”
The last Halloween he was here, he dressed up as The Hulk; and that involved taking off his shirt, and painting himself green, and walking around with out a shirt on. Two years prior to that you would have never seen him do that. It was so cool to see him blossom from this awkward quiet, video gamer (indoor) kid to this little ball of life and energy, and sass.
It was fun to not only see his journey of weight loss but also to see how he grew as a person. To see him evolve into an adult from a kid that just didn’t want to be fat and made fun of.
Do you stay in contact with him?
I do. I stay more into contact with his mom because he is a young adult now and all over the place.
It would be interesting to see if he takes a career in Fitness from this influence. It seems like people who a great at teaching come from a past of being ostersized.
So, we have touched on this, but obviously Fitness has a positive effect on your homelife.
Oh God, yeah! The kids are like “Mom, go work out, you are driving us crazy.” It is also nice though, because my husband and I can share it together. Every morning Monday through Saturday we go work out together, and then go to work and do our thing. It’s been a good bonding experience for us too. Although it did take us three years for him to come and work out with me. The first time we exercised together, he was having a bad day and we were just friends at the time. I was like “he’s having a bad day, just go lift, and he will be fine.” Well a half hour in, he is dry heaving on himself, and I was like ” I thought you were in shape?” Well, after that he didn’t come back to work out with me for three years. And he comes to boot camp, and he makes it through the whole thing, and after that he said “I am going to have to wait until you are ‘deconditioned’ a little before we can work out together.”
He took the oppertunity while I took two months off to “even the playing field.”
Since then it has been nice, in the last couple of months to have that morning time with my husband because we have five kids… we need that time together. It’s nice to have that time and cheer each other on.
What are some of your future goals?
Really my mission is just to help people and it always has been. I am in the business of changing lives and if I am not changing lives, then I am doing something wrong.
Watch out folks….
YOU RUINED MY LIFE THROUGH EXERCISE!
Ha, ha! Oh man, if some one said that to me, I would have to reevalute everything. I really do just want to leave an impact on this world. And, Cheyenne… God Bless it, and all of it’s citizens; (but Cheyenne) is a FAT city. Overweight, unhealthy; spiritually, mentally and physically. People are over worked and under paid, or over worked and over paid. They have little or no time for their families , no time for themselves; no time to do anything. So we have people spinning their wheels, but for what? At the end of the day if you don’t have your health, you have nothing left. I don’t want to out live my children. I see obese kids around and I want to slap their parents. I don’t want to beat the kids, but I want to slap the parents. It makes me so mad. But then I look at it, and you have to change the lives of the parents before you can change the lives of the children. At the end of the day, it is our job as adults to make those responsible decisions. It isn’t easy, but it is our responsiblity.
It’s in my heart to change the health of this community, if not the entire community of Wyoming, but that’s a long way off down the road. I want to continue to make a difference in peoples health and in their lives.
Thirty minutes of exercise might not seem like much, but it can change how a wife treats her husband. She is in a better mood, she feels better about herself, she feels more attractive… she actually wants to be with her husband instead of saying ” I don’t see what you see, at all.”
It changes how a mother treats her children because she has more energy, she will want to take them to the park, or go hiking and do stuff. Or maybe she is just in a better mood and doesn’t want to paddle their butts just for being little people.
It is just fitness, it is just a work out… but it can change EVERYTHING. I have seen it with myself. I saw it when I started my journey years ago and I still see it today. If I don’t work out, I need to work out because I start feeling ‘cagey’ inside. Anxious.
What has your biggest triumph been in your personal fitness journey?
I think just staying the course. Every day is a new day. I can’t say one event has been a real defining moment in my health and fitness journey. I think it just staying course with the lifestyle. I mean sometimes I fall off, just like anyone. I go on a little cookie diet, when I feel stressed, and then I gain eight pounds and then I have to lose it again. At the end of the day just knowing that I am doing what I need to be doing is just great. But when I am not doing that I can tell a difference. So for me, it’s just committing to the lifestyle.
Is there anything you would want to change?
No. Not really because I believe even the hard stuff is lessons. And I think I am far more grateful now toward some of the hardships that I went through. When you look back at it, it just gives you an oppertunity to learn about yourself; to learn about others and the way the world works. Hardships are often self inflicted. So if anything it’s just learning about who I am and who I want to be and who I do not want to be. It’s just about growing up.
Would you like to give any tips or inspiration?
It’s just about consistency. You have to pick and plan and be consistent. It doesn’t matter what your plan is, as long as it has some good foundation of physical health, mental health and spiritual health. Even if it’s CrossFit or lifting or body building or boot camp; whatever it is, I think it’s just about picking something that works for you and stick with it. I know Boot Camp isn’t for everyone. I wish it was. At the end of the day finding something that works and sticking with it long enough to get results. So many people just go about their life by starting a new program every two weeks, saying “But I am just not getting results.” and I am like “Dude, it’s only been two weeks. Do you know how long it took me to lose 70 pounds?”
How long did it take you?
Beginning to end it took three years. Granted I got pregnant twice in between, but it took me three years to lose that 70 pounds. It’s not going to happen over night.
After spending all this time taking other peoples measurements; when do people, on average see a difference for themselves and accept that change is occurring?
Typically eight weeks, especially for women. I call it an 8 Week Miracle. Literally nothing on the scale can change and inches may not change, but may be your clothes fit differently. For whatever reason the inches may not change, your body fat may not change, and then one day you wake up and somewhere between the bedroom and the bathroom, you realize you lost your ass. It’s like it’s just fallen off somwhere and you hop on the scale and you are down ten pounds from the night before. And you will be like “what the hell? My scale must be broken.”
So you call in a spouse or a loved one and you have them hop on the scale and it says what it always says to them, and you hop back on there and it says the same thing, “you are down 10 lbs.”
You have to trust the process, long enough. Not just “half commit.”
“Oh I am just gonna work out for eight weeks and hope that everything is going to happen. You have to have a plan. Have a plan of attack and exicute it flawlessly. Even if you have one bad day, okay, perfect; get back on the band wagon, but don’t let that one bad day or one bad meal derail you for the next six months.
So I think that is the key. Consistency. You have to be consistent, no matter what. And that goes with anything; if it’s fitness related, or business related, or if you want better relationships. What ever it is, BE CONSISTENT! STICK WITH YOUR PLAN! Things WILL change.
In summery; Knowledge, is the awareness that all action has a reaction, and Wisdom, is using that awareness to your advantage whilst utilizing all available resources.
Fit Body Boot Camp works because of the significant insight that the program lends through collaborative Wisdom and Experience.
Fit Body Boot Camp is calling out more of Cheyenne to get involved in their fitness; and during the month of May we are taking extra efforts to expose residents to the opportunity. If you have been following this blog and you are tempted to try it; COME ON DOWN! Let them know you read this blog and that it has helped you to take the first step in health and wellness; or if you are new to town and looking for a fitness community and this seems up your alley, come take a test drive.
If this article interests you and you would like to read more, check out these related blogs. And as always I appreciate “likes”, comments, suggestions and subscribers; so please feel free to interact. And remember kids, Fitness is great, but Burpees SUCK!
One of the best byproducts of attending Boot Camp, is the people you will meet, and the stories that you will hear in regard to individual fitness journeys. It takes courage to step out of an unhealthy comfort zone and into a whole new arena of health and wellness. It can be an intimidating thought, of jumping around in a class, sweating and jiggling all over the place in front of strangers.
Knowing that each member and leader started somewhere, brings a common bond and a common mission.
The great thing about boot camp is that it is the great equalizer amoungst it’s members. No matter what journey transpired that brought each member through the door, and no matter how long they have attended, it is a challenge to every level of fitness.
There is a good chance that if you contact Fit Body Boot Camp-Cheyenne, that you will talk to the friendly and effervescent Tristin Williams. You will recognize her at the gym by her lusterious red mane, her love of tye dye and her beast mode passion for lifing extraordinarily heavy weights. Tristin isn’t your average admin, and her fitness journey is a testament to her determination.
Summer 2013February 2015
STATS
NAME: Tristin Williams
AGE: 34
HEIGHT: 5’0″
WEIGHT: 182lbs (starting weight 227lbs)
STARTING & CURRENT MEASUREMENTS:
ARMS– 15.5″ / 12.5″
CHEST– 50″ / 42″
WAIST-47.5″ / 36.5″
HIPS-52.25″/ 45
THIGH- 27″ / 25.25″
BODY FAT– 47% / 36.5%
FAVORITE EXERCISES– SQUATS (max 250)
DEADLIFTS (max 265)
BENCH PRESS (max 200)
Tristin has a unique story, on how she came to Fit Body Boot Camp, and if you were to superficially judge her, you may think that she is unhealthy. Tristin isn’t tall, standing at only 5 foot; and her body is apple shaped. Often times she can be seen wearing a hoodie, so it is sort of hard to imagine what she is packing under there. She may not have the mainstream media’s ideal body shape, but she has had two beautiful children and can probably dead lift the crap out of your average fitness buff.
I wanted to talk to Tristin and find out her fitness background, and her goals going forward…
May I have the pleasure to introduce you to Tristin Williams, Administrative Assistant at Fit Body Boot camp- Wearer of The TyeDye and Dominator of Heavy Lifting-
Me: So Tristin, tell me about your fitness past.
Tristin: Well my Mom, was a power lifter and a body builder, she held two State Records for years and my Dad was her trainer. So I grew up in the gym, in the daycare (which I despies to this day.) My mom would have power lifting meets, so she was always on the (restrictive) diets, and so they felt bad, and let me eat other things… Because they knew, “what kid wants to eat chicken and broccoli, every night?” So, they would let me eat unhealthy things, like Spaggeti-Ohs. Plus, I am an only child, and I am kind of spoiled. (laughter) Just, putting that out there… So they would ask me, “What do you want?” and I would say “Spaghetti-Ohs.” I LOVED Spaghetti-Ohs.
Tristin went on to explain that the summer between her 4th and 5th grades, she stayed with a cousin. Their collective summer mission was to beat Super Mario 3, which led to a stagnant summer of sitting on the couch, indoors, playing the beloved video game.
Tristin: So we just sat inside, obsessed with the Nintendo and eating chips. All Summer, doing nothing but playing video games.
I have always been “stocky”, I guess you would call it, but that is when I really gained weight. And then it just, kind of got worse.
Me: Oh, that has got to be one of the worst times to gain weight, just as your body is sort of kicking into hormones.
Tristin: So I gained weight, and between 7th and 8th grade, I worked out with my mom and we would go over to what is now Gold’s Gym, and I lost quite a bit of weight, and I maintained that for years. I was a size 9 for years, until I had (my first born) Isaac.
Tristin was able to maintain her weight from 9th grade , despite dropping her work outs; however as she became more social, one thing led to another, and she found herself gaining 60 lbs of pregnancy weight.
Tristin: Chocolate milk, was THE THING during that pregnancy. I was drinking a gallon of it a day. I was in a terribly abusive relationship , so I didn’t have the desire to self love, or to go do anything about the weight that I had gained. I was just misrable for a while; and then I got out of that relationship and just still felt I needed to lose this weight so somebody will find me attractive, ya know?
So for may be a year I lost some weight, I am not sure how much, maybe 15 or 20 lbs. And then (May 2006) I met my husband, and (laughter) we met each other and got married after about three months. And our plan was, to have a year or so to ourselves and then have a baby… well… that didn’t happen. We were married on September 12, 2006, and found out a week later that I was pregnant. (lots of laughter) My family and such thinks we just got married because of that, but it wasn’t.
So then I had Jaylenne, and I only gained 30 lbs with her, but I found out I have Gestational Diabetes, so I really watched what I ate, and cut out all the sugar and all of that. And so I lost most of all that weight, but I was still around 200 lbs at that time. I am only five foot, so 200 lbs is still, uh, not lookin’ pretty good on a five foot person.
The first six years of Jaylennes’ life, I was comfortable in my relationship; Rod loved me the way I was, and I am like “I’m fine.” I was drinking 44oz of Mountain Dew a day.
Me: Complacent comfort?
Tristin: Hmm mmm, yeah, I was eating fried food constantly, you know, fast food and all of that. Which I think my highest was around 230. The day I came and weighed I was at 227 and I couldn’t breathe. That is one of my goals on my sheet, is to be able to breathe. You could hear me breathing, just sitting here.
Me: Did you smoke cigarettes at the time?
Tristin: I did at the time, yeah. I smoked for 17 years. I was a misrable walking piece of human being, is pretty much what I was. I was happy with my marriage but I hated myself.
Tristin was then introduced to Fit Body Boot Camp, Cheyenne, by her friend Kate. Kate proceeded to share pictures of herself over the months that she had been training at FBBC. Tristin couldn’t help but ask what she was doing to get these results. Kate gave the low down on FBBC, and Tristin sat on the information for about a month, hesitant to call the number.
Tristin: I called and talked to (owner/opperator) Sara (Goossen) and asked things like “Are people going to make fun of me?” I thought of all the questions that a person who is over weight will want to know, like “Is it hard?” Then I came in, 11/9/13 and met up with Sara, and I got my measurements and something just clicked. I came in the next Monday, and I quit drinking soda, and probably haven’t been to a McDonalds since.
Me: Tell me about that first day?
Tristin: I came in kind of cocky because I had worked out before with my parents, and because they were body builders and power lifters, I thought I knew what I was doing. It was a leg day, we had some squats and push ups… the next day I was SO SORE for about a week. When Sara tells people in consultation, that some days going to the bathroom will be difficult, brushing your hair will be difficult, she isn’t kidding. It’s not a lie. I have never been so sore before in my entire life; but I pushed through, and I kept coming and I didn’t miss a day for months. My uncle died, and that day I still came to work out. Some people may use those as excuses not to come in, but I didn’t . I thought, that might be okay for you, but for me, I was like, anthing to not come in is an excuse, and I don’t want to make excuses. I just pushed through the hard times. I had three deaths in my family last year, and I pushed through all of them.
January- August 2014
Tristin really started to evaluate her path forward after participating in the 12 Week Transformational Challenge, and was deeply inspired by Trainer Ashley Richards.
Tristin: I really wanted to pay it forward, and become a trainer. I am not a trainer, yet, but when the Admin job became open, it was perfect because I had worked as an Administrative Assistant for years. It was scary, I went from a full time job to part time. I took the risk, but I knew I was going to be helping people, and pay it forward, and eventually I will get my training certificate.
I am content where I am at right now.
My passion is powerlifting. I love to lift heavy shit! My mom is my hero, and inspiration for that. She is tiny, she is about five foot, and when she set her record she was 118 lbs.; her dead lifting record is 300. I do want to compete at least once. I love to max out, I love to see where I am at and how I am performing.
Me: Has this been benefical to your relationship?
Tristin: Oh yeah, my husband has been doing it with me since May or June 2014 and he has lost 35 lbs. I feel better about myself, he has always been great about telling me I am beautiful and that he loves me, but I love myself now, and when he says something like that, I can, more than half way believe it. Now I could see how he could say it, where as before… Yeah, it has been really good for our relationship.
Tristin takes a moment to attest to the words on one of the gym’s T-shirts which says “Fit Sex is Better than Fat Sex.” “It’s true!” She says pointing at where the shirts hang. “I can attest first hand to this.”
I ask what her biggest struggle is, and like most people who have made huge dietary changes in tandem with reaching their physical goals, she says “food.”
Tristin: I love me some chocolate! I thought it was going to be the soda, because I was drinking at least one huge 44oz of soda a day. At LEAST, one… I don’t miss soda. I don’t eat fast food anymore, except Subway, because I can control what goes on it. No burger joints, no fried foods. I gave away my fryer; I was frying chicken at least once a week; deep fried shrimp and fries. I kept the fryer for a while because my family was not on board with the healthy eating and one day I just decided to throw out the oil and give it away.
Me: What do you think your greatest advancements have been?
Tristin: Mentally, I would say it’s that I love myself now. Am I totally where I want to be? No, but I am over halfway to the goal of where I want to be. I don’t really focus on the scale because it really hasn’t moved much since September, but my pants sizes have gone down. I was in a 22 to 24 (size) pant and I am wearing an 11 now.
Me: Are you still smoking?
Tristin: My last cigarrette was June 8th last year, and then I started vaping. My thought process is that at a year, which will be this June 8th, I can slowly start giving up the vape. I am proud of myself because every other time I have tried to give up cigarettes, I couldn’t. I know it’s terrible. And I know that the vaping may not be much better, but I smoked for 17 years, and now I feel better. It’s definitely not 100 times better, but it is better than a cigarette. And I have these girls here to keep on me, and tell me to get off of it and I love them for it. I have had people on me (in my family) about it (smoking) for years. And one day I just decided I was sick of it. I hated the smell. But I am a firm believer that I had to decide that for myself. No one could make me do it.
November 2014
Great advice, from a woman who has had some pretty deep lows and heavy burdens in her life.
You see, Fit Body Boot Camp is such a great enviroment because it works not only as a support system, but also like a family. Every one realizes that by coming to the table, they each bring their short comings; but they also bring their strengths. And those strengths are used to build each other up, not tear each other down.
Tristin, came to FBBC scared that she would be rediculed and shunned for her short comings and the past of mistreating herself and her body; instead she was welcomed with open arms, and she wouldn’t be the woman she is today, with out it.
Fit Body Boot Camp is so inspiring to it’s members, that it isn’t strange that they would be catalyzed to pay it forward and to assist others in feeling better; because feeling better has a holistic impact on a human. Imagine the state of paralysis an individual feels when they hate their body, and feel shameful about being in public. All of that mental/ emotional energy being consumed by fear.
However, erase that fear?
Allieviate the problem and the body, mind and soul get their energy back to focus on the bigger picture; the example we set for our children and their future impact on the world.
If you would like to make a change, a shift, or a transformation in your life, and you are ready to take a risk for the sake of your health, give Tristin Williams a call at (307)421-7387 or check out their FaceBook Page Here, or their website at http://www.fitbodybootcamp.com/cheyennefitnessbootcamp/. Help yourself by helping us reach our goal of impacting the lives of (at least) 5000 Cheyenne Residents with health and physical fitness.
It’s crazy to think that 10 years ago today… I was in jail.
It wasn’t for very long, but when you haven’t thought too much about your white privilege, even 18 hours seems too long.
I never thought I would be the kid in my family to go to jail. I was the honor roll student, who; on paper, looked like the All American Over Achieving Teenager. I was involved in student mock trial, I was obedient (overall) to the Law and God.
In fact, I never thought any of my siblings or cousins would go to jail. Even the trouble makers; over all, we were all really good kids, brought up with respect. None of the boys were very violent.
Looking back, maybe it was obvious I would be the one to go, if one was to go.
My temper was far worse than any of them. And my quickness to hit or hit back, was evident. Maybe it was because I was the only girl around 3 boys; maybe it was my latent anger issues at losing my mother at four years old. Maybe it was a little bit of both.
January is a very precarious month for me. My mother’s mother was born on January 31,1927. My mother died on January 31, 1985. I went to jail January 17, 2005 and I got pregnant on January 31, 2007 (HA! The Chaste Moon or Snow Moon). My first niece was born January 29, 2014.
Lot’s of birth and death and change seems to occur around me at that time of the year. I should have expected it. My life was already in a sort of shambles.
I was living with whom I thought at the time to be “the love of my life”; below poverty level, working two jobs, and fighting all the time. The honeymoon period ended as soon as we moved 1200 miles from where we met, and from there things were on a rapid down hill slide.
Both of us had lost a parent at an early age, and were quick to anger. I never hit him. He smacked me more than once to get me to shut my mouth; but he never “pummeled my ass.” He would get in my face and yell at me, maybe throw my stuff around, but I never thought he would go “too far,” or at least further than I could handle.
I moved out once, before the night I went to jail. I didn’t have enough in my paycheck to pay my half of the rent; and most of our issues revolved around money, which was just an avoidance of deeper emotional issues. I was accused of not pulling my weight. I would rather run than fight again. So I packed my things, took them to a friends house, and left a note.
There he was the next morning at 6:30, waiting for me outside my job. He looked haggard; exhausted and tear stained; begging me to come home, telling me that we were family and that he loved me, that things would be different. And because I loved him, and believed him, and knew deep down, that our issues were emotional; because I was for the first time in my life, COMMITED to another human and our relationship, I went home to him.
And things were okay for a couple of months. He even said “We have to cut this shit out, or one of us is going to end up dead or in prison.” I definitely agreed.
The night I went to jail, was an average cold wet Oregon night. I worked my second job at a fine dining Italian restaurant in downtown Bend. It had been a busy night, so I stuck around after my shift to help with extra clean up and a shift drink. One hard cider turned into three; and on an empty stomach. I didn’t feel tipsy or buzzed, I was at work for a couple hours and felt fine to drive home.
I drove the three miles home feeling quite sober and when I got out of my car I felt drunk. I made it half way to the door and realized I left the dome light on, and turned back to shut it off. I leaned in turned it off and grabbed a couple of items from the back seat. As I shut the door a cop car pulled up and an officer got out and approached me.
“What are you doing?” He asks, holding his flash light directed at me.
“I forgot something in my car. Why?”
“There have been some break in’s in this neighborhood,” he gets closer to me. “Have you been drinking tonight?”
I knew he hadn’t caught me driving, and we were standing directly in front of my house; so, thinking I wouldn’t incriminate myself, I was honest and said “yes.”
I don’t remember how, but this led to a road side sobriety test. Wherein I got incredibly nervous, and full of adrenaline not only because of the Law, but because my boyfriend came out of the house. I knew either way the cookie crumbled, I was going to have hell to pay.
My boyfriend was obviously pissed to be woken from his beauty sleep. A look of loathing and disappointment was severe and evident across his face.
About the time I saw him, was about the time I spelled my own last name wrong. Things were definitely going from bad to worse. I already knew, my boyfriend would probably be mad that I was home later than usual… and he HATES cops… now one is interrogating me in our front yard, and I am FAILING.
He finally speaks up and tells the officer, “It’s fine, she lives here. That’s my girlfriend.”
The officer says “Fine, you can go in, and make sure you stay in, for the night.”
I say “okay” and “thanks” as my lover escorts me to the door. That is when things really start to blur. I am shaking, and as we cross the threshold he says, “I am disappointed in you, we will discuss this tomorrow, but I need some fucking sleep because I have to be up in 3 hours, so you need to sleep on the couch.”
I didn’t argue, I just went to the couch with my work clothes on.
I must have laid there a while, and decided to go to the bathroom and take my contact lenses out. He heard me from the bedroom, and got out of bed in a rage; yelling something along the lines of “lay down or I am going to lay you down.”
Now, I just don’t think this is something you say to a person whom you have hit more than once, and is also a rape survivor. Add in the chemical mix of alcohol and adrenaline; I became a self preservation machine. I don’t remember much, but the tussle. He came at me, and instead of swinging, or blocking; I grabbed his hair, and I held on, keeping him arms length away for as long as I could until he pulled away, leaving me with tufts of his hair in my hands.
He was livid. “You have to get THE FUCK outta this house, but you are not driving that car! I am going to pull the spark plugs out of it, but you, you need to get the fuck OUT!”
I started freaking out, telling him not to touch my car. I followed him out the front door grabbing at his t-shirt, ripping it away from his body. I got in front of him, attempting to block him from getting to the car, my hands still on his shirt, which tore some more; I lost my footing on the front stoop and fell backward holding the shirt, he was pulled forward and stepped off the stoop directly onto my face, breaking my nose.
I started bleeding immediately, and he saw it and freaked out. He ran into the house and locked the door, and called 911. I got up and went to the window, I saw him on the phone in the kitchen. I tried the locked door. It had since started raining, and I was soaked from falling on the ground. I noticed the blood, and I wanted to go inside; so I started banging on the kitchen window. The longer he ignored me, while on the phone; the more frantically I started beating at the double pane. That was until I busted through both panes of glass and shards were shot into my chest from the argon gas compressed between the panes.
My boyfriend yelled at me, saying the cops were on the way, and that he wouldn’t be letting me back into the house.
I was freezing, I had no shoes on, I just wanted to take out my contacts and go to bed. I didn’t want to fight, or go to jail, or deal with cops, or blood. I just wanted to rest. The escapist in me thought about running to the near by park, or hiding in someone bushes; the educated part of my brain reminded me of all the episodes of “COPS” that I had seen; and that no one ever gets away. So I sat patiently freezing on the front stoop until the Authorities arrived.
I don’t remember what they asked me. They took a statement from him, and in Oregon, in domestic disputes involving a 911 call…some one has to go to jail; and because one of the responding officers had already logged me in their book that night; I was the lucky winner.
I think the officers felt a little bad for me and the state of my face. Both of my eyes started to swell shut and shiners were becoming evident. As I recall, they didn’t cuff me; I had no fight left.
I was taken to the county jail, which at that point, I didn’t even know where it was located. I sat in processing, and the check in officer asked what the other guy looked like, to which I answered “I think he lost some hair.” He suggested I check out the domestic violence programs in town. I asked for an Advil, and was told “no”, then escorted by a female officer into a large bathroom; where I was instructed to completely disrobe so that I could be cavity searched. This was like some worst nightmare (I didn’t even know I had) coming true.
I was issued some ugly scrub type inmate clothes and taken to a holding cell until I would be moved to the general female population later in the morning.
They put me in a temporary tank with a woman who was probably in her late 50’s, early 60’s. She was screaming and violently banging on the plexiglass. “GIMME A NEW GODAMN DIAPER! I SWEAR TO CHRIST I WILL WIPE SHIT ALL OVER THESE WINDOWS!!! I WANT A CLEAN DIAPER YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!!! FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING PIGS!!!””
How the hell did I get here? I was freaked out; worried, tired, and scared as shit. I huddled in the corner with a blanket and cried. Again some compassionate officer must have had some pity for me, and the elderly lady was removed.
In the quiet cell, I called my dad, 1200 miles away. This was maybe a bad idea, and I could hear the helplessness in his voice when he said “what I can I possibly do, from here?”
I said “I don’t know. I just thought you should know.” And hung up, defeated.
I asked if I could make another phone call at 7:45, to let my boss I know I wouldn’t be at work. I cried and apologized for the collect call, I told them to take it out of my pay check. “everything would be okay. Don’t worry about it.”
I hung up the phone, and about that time I was taken to be transferred to the female jail bird population. I was given a brown lunch sack with a flimsy pen, a toothbrush, tooth past, a crappy comb, and a small pad of paper. I was taken to a 6 bed bunk, and shown my mattress, pillow and blanket. The officer advised me on hours of food and left me to assimilate.
I set my brown bag on the mattress and walked out into the commons room where every one else was socializing. I sat at an empty table and just observed the goings on. I was now apart of the great equalizer, and I had the outfit to prove it. At this point, I realized “I am an inmate.” Yet, I felt no guilt.
Some girl with a bunch of neck tattoos came over to me and sat down.
“What happened to yo face?” She asked.
I gave her a run down of the hours leading to my arrest.
“Damn girl, Imma give you my numba. And when I am outta here, you jus call me, and I will kick that muthafucka’s ass.”
“I really don’t think that is necessary, but I appreciate the offer.” I answered.
Another girl came over. Taller and heavy set, “Girl, you must be tough… you just got here and you are hanging out in commons? Man, I stayed on my bed and cried for a week before I came out to commons.”
“I really don’t think I will be in here very long, and I believe in making the best out of a bad situation.”
Tattoo girl asks “Whatchoo do?”
“Well, I work at a pizza shop… but I am a writer, painter and performer.”
Both girls nod, “that’s cool.” The tall one asks what I perform.
“I perform spoken word poetry. Would you like to hear some?”
The girls get excited and call some of the other women over to listen.
I make it through two of my favorite poems. They ask for a third, I make it almost through the third, and my mind blanks. I can’t remember the end; the lack of sleep is catching up to me, and I think I may be in delayed shock. I get a round of applause anyway, and apologize that my mind is just too overloaded to do any more.
Tattoo girl, looks tough, but she is compassionate. “That’s cool, girl. I didn’t talk to no one for days when I got here. It’s cool you shared that.”
“Enough about me… what did you do to get in here?” I ask her.
“Ohhh, me and my boo got lost in the Wal-Mart parking lot, for, like, three days.”
“What?!?” I query.
“You, know, we got some real good meth, and we couldn’t find out way outta the parking lot.”
In my head I was full of incredulous laughter. But all I could say, was “I can’t imagine.”
Lunch came and went, and all I wanted was sleep, but nothing about this situation made me feel comfortable laying down. I thought about drawing but my hands were shaky, and my eyes were swollen and watery.
At about 3:30 an officer came in to tell me my bail had been paid, and that I would be released. I asked who paid the bail and they said my boyfriend had. It was only $250.00. The kicker was this; in domestic disputes in Oregon, who ever makes the call, immediately has a state mandated restraining order on who ever received the charge. The police informed my boyfriend that he could not pick me up; and they informed me, that I could not go back home if he was there. I told them I didn’t have a ride home, they told me “that isn’t our problem.”
I was given back my damp clothes. No one had grabbed me a pair of shoes, and I had no idea where the hell I was or how I would get home.
Once in the parking lot, I took a look around to try and gauge where the house was in relation to the jail. I saw Pilot Butte to the South East, and started walking along the highway. I must have looked quite the scene, walking shoeless in January with no coat; arms wrapped around myself, wild hair whipped by wind, tear stained face beginning to amplify in it’s bruises.
I had probably traveled about a mile and a half when an old Ford F-150 pulled over just ahead of me. The passenger side door opened and a young woman and her husband called to me, “you need a ride?” I looked the truck over, it was old and beat up, a large crack in the back window. I just stared at them for a second, trying to decide if this was a safe thing to do; exhaustion didn’t care, so I said “sure” and hopped on to the bench seat.
The lady asked me where I lived, and I told her my address. They were familiar with area, which left time for them to ask questions like “Why are you walking along the highway with no shoes?” and “what happened to your face?”
I gave another run down of things, and finished up just as we pulled in front of my house. The lady, noticed the broken window, and said “Are you sure it’s safe for you to be here?”
“oh yeah. He’s not here right now… and the window, I did that.”
She looked concerned, but said “okay, be safe.” And they pulled away.
My life changed dramatically that day in January of 2005. I became a warden of the state, I now had a new Master to appease. I was no longer just a person with a couple of traffic violations…I was considered a domestic abuser, a person worthy of charges like harassment and assault; none of which felt true.
I used the hide-a-key to get into the house, took a long bath and l crawled into bed; attempting to forget my current reality.
Mumbling to myself as I drifted to sleep, “Fuck January.”
I’m not the type of person, people come to for conventional comfort, when comforting is due.
Most people want a “sit-quiet-and-listen-with-a-box-of-tissues-on-hand-and-be-willing-to-hug-through-it-kind-of-comforter.”
Nope.
I am more the, “let-me-tell-you-like-it-is-because-we-all-know-this-isn’t-a-new-problem” kind of comforter.
Sometimes, I admit, it’s just too much.
I wish I could sit there and listen to all of the crying and madness about certain things… but I really, just can’t. I have no tolerance for it, I guess.
Why? Why so, harsh? Why not tone it down a bit?
Well, probably because I see a MUCH bigger picture at play. And, sadly, it is tired, old and repetitive.
WE ALL KNOW BETTER! Really, deep down, core Soul level, we know better. And yet, we ignore that knowing in favor of taking everything so personally.
I come across as cold, not because I don’t care. Quite on the contrary. However, I am irritated that I care, and I am irritated that we still keep making the same mistakes, all the while taking it so personally.
I like the tactical aspect of problem solving. If you come to me for comfort, then you come to my fort. In this fort I will share with you tactical solutions toward your problem. I will not sit idly by.
You are having an internal battle. I am here to help you with that. I am not going to sugar coat matters. I am going to help you survive a battle which is so familiar to so many… and that is the battle of the self/Self.
When people come to my fort for comfort, I am giving them sanctuary to listen to their Self. Permission to listen on a Soul level. And this is something many of my close friends honor.
This is why I pick the phone up for a really late night or early morning call.
I am with them in the battle. I know it. I deal with it daily… but I keep facing it. And for my brothers and sisters in those trenches of confusion, whilst still seeking… I will be on hand. I will help them to safety.
Excuse me for being brash… crude; crass, rude, un-Kosher, un-classy, and perhaps even UNACCEPTABLE…. but I am pretty sure I am not the only one, IN THIS BIG yet small World… who at times, thinks; Fuck This.
Fuck it all! Fuck this, fuck that, and use a whiffle ball bat!
I can’t say what moments bring you to that point, but I DO know I have ’em. I struggle. I look at the accumulation of all that is, and see its potential to be so much more… and in the same glance I see all the hurdles and blocks that restrict the way.
I see it every day. And some days, I feel like a champion. I love a challenge and I am ready to meet any one that may come, head on. But some days, I just wanna say “Fuck THIS… it isn’t worth my time/energy/creativity/life force.”
It isn’t because I am lazy… but rather because everyday I wake up, I rise with the belief that “Today will be better! Today I won’t have to give looks of confusion or redundant disbelief, because they will get IT too! And perhaps today will be the day of harmony! Finally we can all just get over ourselves and GET ON with Our Next Big Task.”
I get, like two minutes into my day, only to realize….uh well, today probably isn’t THAT Day. And I know this because I am the first person I encounter in a day… and if I am not, for some reason, bliss-ed out… well chances are no one else is.
There are many philosophical discussions on perspective. How our perspective, colors and influences the World we see and interact with it. Cultures far older, honor a system of reflection. The greater I AM, IS ALL and WE ARE IT, and IT IS US… and so it goes. Perhaps no One Person is Perfect…but between the collection of our experiences, together we can create a symbiosis of Perfection through Our unique expressions and perceptions.
Anyway… along those lines, many cultures talk about an up coming “Golden Age.” A proverbial time many have found intriguing for the fact they feel the same aching, internally, in which says…”Fuck This.”
It doesn’t have to be rude, or mean. It doesn’t have to even relate to laziness or cowardliness.. Rather it comes from a conclusion, which is far headier than most want to admit to. It comes down, or rather UP to seeing a bigger picture; which quite frankly may invoke a desire to shit ones pants.
It is the acceptance of our collective nature in a Source, far more multifaceted than modern cultures and religions have given it credit for. When the Hindus talk about having 33 million Gods in their belief… but One Absolute… They could be very close to the Truth. I mean if we are all made of the same star dust; and If We look at Ourselves, We see many faces of God. At that point it seems weird to have such superficial divisions. (Except for the fact that there are have been those who wish to enslave humanity, knowingly. And only for nefarious reasons… which we are observing and taking emotional action toward…)
Some of Us are only just now recognizing the repetitive nature of existence. It’s lessons, our participation, and It’s steadfast nature in conveying impressions of Truth through any avenue. It is unavoidable.
For some of us, It seems We have been struggling, consciously, longer than others.
Perhaps this is where competition really stems. If there is an “end,” then most likely it is “Source.” Why shouldn’t we rush, and push each other to get there? Like Spiritual Sperm finding the Etheric Egg. Most of Us are in for the long haul, but many of Us are reaching Our own thresholds in a way of in-explainable proportions.
The game is just an old rehash, kids. From every parallel and perpendicular; every story has been played out, far too many times…. EXCEPT, the ones that include Ascended Masters.
No one gets tired of imagining themselves as some sort of Savior… meanwhile defaulting in realities mind fuck, in such a way that it relies on some one else to take the proverbial reins and Save, what could be seen as a Sinking Spiritual Ship that is the Hopeless Human.
And that is what separates those who say “Fuck This,” and mean it as a mantra of not giving up… and those who say the same words, with different tones, resonating in defeat and complete submission to the moment, with out regard to the end result which comes in it’s own way, unprovoked.
I, was a child, who never really liked just chatting about the weather… but I sure did enjoy talking about having control over it. These are conversations of sages and the Future. I am by no means calling myself a Sage. But I will admit to being a voice of the Future, and Let me tell you; The Future is Now.
Sure, sure, sure… people have been saying that for a long time… but never in history (this time around) have We been able to reach such a critical mass of people, so quickly, who see through the bullshit; and know better than to wait on a Savior. THEY= YOU, know You have the ability to Save Yourself/ Us. You/We are just waiting on the 100th Monkey to pick up the straw, and go with it.
I know at some point, We will get our 100th Monkey… and I will not give up hope. Just as, in turn I will say; The journey has been crazy and worth it… and I am here to endure it. But at times I find We have neglected Our Own Divinity too long. It’s time to hop on Our Own Soul Train… We have had time to reflect on our past, we have been given opportunities to endlessly rehash… But Now, a new sun on a new horizon, and it is calling Us.
No more fussing and fighting. Time is calling for Re Uniting. And we are the ones to live in the New Sun, We are the Ones who bring the blessings of Eternal Guiding.
When I say Fuck This… I honor where we have been… and I get it.
Do You?
When I say I want to move on, it is because my Soul says We Are Bound for SO Much MORE!
May you Master the Fuck Out of This Experience in order to be Confident in moving into the Next .
Few of you may know, that I went to jail in early 2005. The charges were “domestic dispute with a misdemeanor of assault I went to jail that night for about 16 hours. It was by far one of the strangest things I have ever encountered. I don’t talk about it as a respect to the other party, who really loves his privacy on such matters. Regardless, I really do try and keep a good mindset about all things. And though the jail thing was hairy, I endured it. Upon seeing a court evaluator, I asked “what is the most the court will ask me to do?” He said community service and classes on domestic violence and drug and alcohol abuse. I got the info and got in right away. I found a community art gallery and donated my time to the cause. I wrote this piece two days out of jail… but I had to wait 7 months for a hearing with a judge. In the mean time, I did everything the was going to ask me to… ONLY I DID IT BEFORE THEY ASKED.
At the end of the trial ( there were people on the jury, who had totally bought a pizza from me a Papa Murphy’s) where I was found guilty, the judge talked to me off the record, wherein I shared this piece of writing.
She was impressed with what I had done, and said I could have my record expunged after 4 years, if no other incidence.
There has been no other incidence. I have been single for 7 years. That was my last serious relationship. It ended weird and now I have a mark on my record… why? Why haven’t I had it expunged? Because I would rather put petrol in my car, and buy a six pack then pay yet another $85 dollars into the system I found myself indebted to.
How did I win? Well I guess I cut a lot of drama out of my life after all of that, and yet, at moments knowing what I know; I find myself still fearing the law. Fuck me.
Your Honor,
I come before you a humble and humiliated part of society
my brain screams
“girls like me, don’t belong in jail”
but I compromised what allows me to be free
My reality, assault in the fourth degree
a fight
domestically
Luckily not another tragedy
just a young woman
with too much to drink
a tendency to over think
and a bottle of rage packed inside
These things I over looked
came back to bite
and now I know what a night in jail is like
I can’t remember the succession in which it all happened
Only I know
I don’t want it to happen again
I don’t want a record
or a label like criminal
Since that day
I pay for my actions
Two hundred and fifty
of my cash
goes to bail I owe
Not to mention the
broken double pane window
My brain gets lost when it thinks
of these court costs
My humiliation is evident at my job
with this broken nose
and black eye
No way to disguise.
Humbled as a daughter
who had to call home from a holding cell
didn’t go over so well 2000 miles away.
I’ve been waiting to talk to Your Honor
for weeks, just trying to think what I could do
for Deschutes County to drop these charges against me.
I confess I am willing to do anything
I can to lessen the charge
counseling or deferment
I don’t know yet
I ask your Honor for help
so that I can contain the stress
that made me burst outward
with violence
It makes no sense to me,
how I could act irrationally
but then again
it was that dark part
that comes out with that depressing friend called liquor
it gets that range pumping quicker
until your mind goes black
and you are ready to attack your lover
The marks on my face
disgrace me
Public Humility
evidence of the darkness that exists inside all of us
once let loose
I am only here in Bend temporarily until March 10th
Then I send myself back to middle America
I swear it’s my word and your judgement
Your Honor, I trust what you decide, will fit the crime.
I appreciate you, for allowing me, this time with you.
Once upon a time, a bad nasty thing happened between this girl and some guy. They once were madly in love, but then the ruins of Truth set it… it was a pheromone attraction full of lessons in abandonment and respect. All escalating in to a night neither would forget, but he would never mention… and I, well, I would use it as a good bar room ice breaker.
The night in question, was tinged in inebriation. As sometimes things go, an after work cocktail poured strong, and a long conversation with a co-worker, biding time as to not go home to an angry beau. One drink turned to three, before I felt the need to leave.
The drive felt so sober. I obeyed all the laws, and pull up next to our lawn, it was about 2 in the morning. I left the lights on in the car, and opened the door, when a blue suit pulls up. He questions me about my connection to the car, smells liquor on my breath and issues a sobriety test. I fail to spell my own last name correctly… luckily he is easy on me, unable to prove I was driving.
The beau of my home exits, and admits this is my residence, the police bid me good night, and warn to stay inside. Then my “lover” walks me to the threshold. He tells me to sleep on the couch, disappointed in my behavior. I am warned not to bother this one who is to wake up early. I lay on the couch, somewhat blacked out and all I can guess is my contacts needed removal, and my bladder needed empty, but when I enter the bathroom, he yells at me “TO LAY DOWN OR I WILL LAY YOU DOWN” but none of that is on the 911 call.
Somehow, some way, this starts a brawl. I hold on to his hair tightly, afraid he will hit me, and all is a tussle until he pulls away. Tufts of hair lay on the carpets and on the tile. It gets crazy, and the dog goes wild. My man says, I need to leave, but not in my car, not with my keys. He says he is going to pull the plugs, and I am raging, blacked out and dumb. I pull at his shirt and boxers in the January rain, I fall of the stoop and he stumbles onto my face.
I crunch, my nose, broken, eye sockets shocked. I am bleeding and he retreats to the house, locking me out. Picks up the phone, dials 9-1-1, and this is when the fun really starts. I am pounding on the double pane window, asking to be let in. My eyes are swelling, and there is blood on my chin. I am scared, adrenaline filled, I know someone will go to jail. Eventually that pounding on the window is enough to break both panes. Glass dispersed, and yet a piece remains.
In my chest. the side of my left breast, over my heart. The last shard of all of that chaos and love. Somehow since 2005, that tiny piece of glass has survived in my tissue, and now it is starting to abscess. I am ready to get rid of this last piece of him and me. Tucked ever so violently in to a sacred place. His face I only see in dreams.
I hope he is on a path with truth and love, I hope he understands what we both have done, and is working at becoming a better man. I know daily I strive to be a better woman, and a better lover, to consciously enter into communication.
So as this wound sort of blisters and breaks, I take back a piece of my heart that was breaking for him, and all of our mutual sins. Final stages of healing bring me free wheeling into my personal reality, it’s finally good to be home.
Madge Midgely 