Darkness Calls

She could feel it settling into her bones
  the cold, the darkness had returned

She could fill her days, her mind
  sweep it away, pack it into boxes
     in tiny corners of her head

But it would always find its way back in
  winding its way, slowly at first
    with a doubt, a waver, a small slight

It doesn't take much
  since he waits patiently to pounce
    he is on the surface of her consciousness
      ever present

His cool hands caress her mind
  he whispers to her
     beckons

  She fights but years of struggle she is left weak
   it is so much easier to just let go
      give in to the cold
        dive in to the darkness

Ultimately I saved myself but my CrossFit Family got me there..... Thank you

I've read so many blog post or articles where people write about how CrossFit saved their lives. Well this is one of those blogs (kind of). When I walked into my my Box back in October I was in a very dark place. I had been slipping for months (to be truthful I had been slipping for a couple of years and spiraling for months). Each day was a struggle and not just to stay above water but to just survive.

I have always been a survivor. My childhood would have crushed most people but I  persevered,   succeeded in life, having a family and a career and for the most part I am a very strong person. I have always been able to overcome any obstacle personal or professional, not only surviving but thriving. Over the past few years through a series of setback I was not able to "reset" and ended up pretty far down in a hole I could not claw my way out of.

I hid this from my family, friends and coworkers, ashamed that I could not just brush it off, pick myself up and move on. Putting on the "mask" of Christie-Lee became second nature but was also an overwhelming burden. I gained weight and that just pushed me further down this hole of despair. By the time last fall rolled around I would have daily conversations with myself  and discuss the reason why my family would be better off without me. The lists were extremely silly but at the time they made complete sense to me. The only reason I did not go down this road is because I was afraid it would be one of the children that would find me.

I tell you this not to feel sorry for me but share my story since I know I am not the only one out there that have these feelings (they are not alone and should not feel ashamed)and even though someone appears to be strong (you have no idea how many times I have heard "you are the strongest person I know" all the while thinking I was a fraud). I tell you this story because if you are in that place you can pull yourself out.

Last October on a whim I walked into my Box. I had briefly been introduce to CrossFit seven months before but other things came up and it didn't work out. There was something different about this Box and the owner of this box was so welcoming and easy to work with after the first two sessions I was hooked.

The transformation was two-fold. The WOD's, the weightlifting the nutrition is one part of it. I love it all. You push yourself and you do things you never thought you would be capable of doing. Mind of matter. There is something so empowering about lifting heavy weights over your head, throwing kettlebells around and pushing prowlers across gravel (which seriously sucks). My body soon became Goddess like (yeah I'm hot I admit it). My mind became strong again and I knew that I was going to be ok.

The second transformation took a bit longer and was more of a learning curve for me. I am not one that gets close to people. I have very few friends and my family does not put the fun in dysfunctional. So close personal relationships are not my thing. This is where CrossFit has really changed my life. I am fortunate enough to have two Boxes so that means double the amount of people. My main Box is smaller and we have a very close knit group of people and every single one of them I am proud to call my friend. We encourage one another, we give a hand up and we cheer SO LOUD for each of us to succeed. The other Box has been around longer and at first I was hesitant to go over because I was the "nube" but one day I sucked it up and showed up for Power Hour and you would have thought I had been going there for years. We are a hodge-podge group of people but we truly care for each others well-being, we are competitive but don't mind losing to each other.

It all came together for me during 14.5. I did not think that I was going to be able to finish but I was going to give it my all. My goal had been to put a score up for all of the Open WOD's and I wasn't going to let Dave Castro beat me!! 14.5 though was going to be tough. I had my judges and I was ready to go. Well after the first 5 thrusters I was ready to quit but Jenn and Beth wouldn't let me so I continued. With their support I continued on and slowly chipped away (wanting to quit every few minutes) The rest of the Box had finished but I was still going feeling like I couldn't do anymore  the Box gave me the support I needed. They surrounded me and cheered me on for the next 10 minutes until FINALLY at 30.03 I finished. I will admit I cried. Not just out of sheer exhaustion but because of the love and support I felt from my fellow CrossFitters.

Ultimately I saved myself but it was my CrossFit family that gave me the strength to pull myself out of the hole I had fallen down. I know if I start slipping again they will be there to help me pull myself back up.

The weaker sex, the war on yoga pants and what it really means.

While waiting for the bus this morning and listening to WGAN I hear Mike Violette discuss the ban on "war on yoga pants" my head was ready to explode. Now you have to understand we have been having this war with the school for a couple of years now but for my daughter is it not just yoga pants it is her whole wardrobe. If you are not familiar with the "war on yoga pants" here is a quick breakdown (my version): apparently boys cannot control themselves when girls wear yoga pants and become extremely distracted and therefore we have to ban yoga pants so that boys will not be distracted.

There are SOOOOOO many problems with this way of thinking. First and foremost you place the blame for the male behavior on the female. I guess boys are so weak that they cannot control themselves and therefore the girl must be punished. This is what leads the "well the girl deserved it" type of thinking when she is a victim of sexual violence. Banning a piece of clothing because it distracts boys only reinforces this paradigm.

The second problem is that you are reinforcing a negative body image to girls. The bans seem to start during the Middle School/High School years. This is the time when girls are starting to be very self conscious and now they have the added pressure of the adults in the community telling them that their changing bodies are a "distraction". My daughter was told by a teacher that she needed to change her whole wardrobe (she was wearing a A&F t-shirt and jeans nothing revealing but she is curvy) because she was "too attractive" and a "distraction".  My daughter does not have body image issues and is strong willed so this only made her angry at the teacher  but if this was a girl already dealing with self-esteem issues this could have been problematic.

Instead of banning yoga pants and punishing the girls we should be teaching boys about learning to control themselves and their urges. I am sick and tired of anyone (male or female) having to change acceptable behavior because of someone else's unacceptable behavior. In our society we always cater to the least common denominator because it is easier. Instead we should be teaching respect and self-control.

Welcome to where?

When Matty was born we were semi-prepared for what we were in for, we knew things were going to be rough those first months (which ended up being years). Those first few months we loaded with doctor's appointments, hospitals stays, no sleep and a lot of questions but at least we had been given notice while he was in the womb so we weren't knocked off guard. After awhile we settled into a routine and the medicines, wires, throwing and tripes to OT, PT and speech became normal. We had books to read to help us through and I never forgot the poem Welcome to Holland that summed up life with a special needs child perfectly.

Fast forward 13 years with your "typically developing child" who has been living in "Italy" (reference to the poem). Excelling at everything she does, sports, school and friends. She is the "easy" kid, you never worry about her and you are pretty much on autopilot. You have a great relationship and for the most part she is a well adjusted 13 year old (as well adjusted a 13 year old girl can be). Then BOOM overnight you are not in Italy, not even in Holland but in Limbo.

In May Emily suffered a severe concussion during a basketball game. At first we were told it would be 3-4 weeks and then she would most likely be fully recovered and all would be good. Not so much. We started noticing memory gaps, she couldn't leave her room for more than an hour at a time without her head exploding and her balance was so off she couldn't go up and down stairs by herself. So here we are after many tests and 5 months later and we are being told that her brain isn't going to repair and that we need to re-wire, which is going to require several different kinds of therapy and will take anywhere from 18-24 months.

There are no books for this, there is no one I can call and ask questions, there are no support groups. We are in a land of our own.

It has been very hard to watch my child, the child that LIVED for basketball not be able play her favorite sport. It is heartbreaking to watch most of her friends fall away and leave her behind. Since she can only go to school for 2 hours at a time and then she comes home to go to rehab it is tough to keep up those friendships at school. Out of sight out of mind.

It is one thing when the child is born in "Holland", Matty never knew any different world so for him everything is normal. Emily on the other hand remembers how things were before her injury. She knows the difference, feels the chill from friends lost, and understands the ramifications of the injury and knows she may never play again.

It really hit me the other night when we had a parent meeting regarding her AAU team and the Coach was talking about the future, a future that 6 months ago was guaranteed for Emily. As I listened I teared up because I knew that this was most likely no longer Emily's future and as I looked over at Emily and her team I was already seeing them separate themselves from her and the look on her face said it all.

So here we are in Limbo working our way back to Italy but I think for us it will be a different Italy once we get back. We now have seen Italy from a different point of view and I think she is a bit jaded. We will get there, she is a strong kid and nothing will stop her intellectually returning to her brilliant self. We just may need to find a new non contact sport (for my sake).


“And human will is the strongest force ever created. There are those born to succeed and those who are determined to succeed. The former fall into it, and the latter pursue it all costs. They won't be denied.Nothing daunts them.” 

Really? How to raise a daughter in the era of the slut?

Yes I know the title is a bit provocative but that is exactly how I feel. After taking my 13 year old school shopping and the MTV Awards I feel we have entered the era of the who can out slut who (see picture below).

What happened to the days when women dressed with class and poise like Sandra Bullock and Charlize Theron. They were covered but still looked gorgeous. The VMA awards was just disgusting and "twerking"? Really? I have seen videos of girls as young as eight shaking their butts and shaking them provocatively while being egged on by others that find this funny.

Shopping for school gets more difficult every year. Finding a shirt that not only covers my 13 years olds belly used to be the issue. Now I finding something that covers the belly and isn't sheer is almost impossible. We finally had to buy tank tops to go under pretty much every shirt that she will wear including t-shirts since those also have been made to be see-thru. Now I am no prude but whoever designs clothes has to keep in mind I would prefer my child doesn't look like a mini prostitute.

Thank God my daughter has a good head on her shoulders and has some modesty and feels the same way as I do. As we were walking through the stores she kept saying how disappointed she was with her choices. Even Newbury comic and Hot Topic (yes she is kind of a geek like me) have let her down. She likes to dress differently than everyone else and not look like she walked off the girl factory floor and this year we had nothing to work with, all the stores were pretty much the same, no originality.

When I look at the magazines and things like the VMA awards I see why. The people that are guiding the fashion and the music, tv show, movies have no originality of their own. Just Pack Mentality and right now for the women of the "Pack" they are trying to see who can out slut who. Unfortunately the ones who suffer are the young girls who look up to these "ladies" (and yes I use this term loosely). Hopefully the stores will suffer for their choices and the clothes will sit on the shelves (we bought very few clothes this year and we are waiting it out) and people will come to their senses and modesty will make a return. Until then we will have to suffer through "twerking" videos, barely there clothing and God help us Miley Cyrus.

Can't sleep tonight

Too many thoughts going through my head. Father's Day is always a tough one from for me. This should be on those days we celebrate how much we love our fathers and honor them for raising us into the people we are today. Well I have two fathers who failed miserably (don't get me wrong they molded me into the person I am just not in a positive way). My biological father abandon me at an early age and handed me over to a monster wether he was pressured or was given an incentive I will never  know and I don't care to know (and please if him or his family members read this don't defend him and don't flame me these are just my musings not accusations).

The other, well he was a monster on many different levels. He was abusive man and took pleasure out of using his power to belittle and berate those around him. Our house was one of fear, paranoia and if you could hide you did. My very first memory is of me in the downstairs bathroom (which would later be pivotal in a court case, not the memory but the bathroom. I was wearing a pretty blue frilly dress and I was  telling my mother how much this new man scared me, I must have been only about 3 years old. Well I was right to be scared and at 40 years old this man still keeps me up at night.

Tomorrow we will be having 3 very good fathers coming to our house for a bbq and for a few short hours I won't think of my own and what I missed out on. I will watch my husband with the two dads that he was blessed with, I know that they weren't always perfect but they loved him and he knew that they were always there for him. I will watch our kids with Matt and know that they have a great dad and that when they wrestle with him or through a water balloon at him all hell won't broke loose. No shoes will drop tomorrow.

Something I wrote awhile back:

She waits....

Little girl all smiles and full of love

a blond little cherub in blue dress

she loved her kitty,  her mom

and her safe little world.

Free of demons and monsters

she slept each night with angels

watching over her,

so full of life, so full of promise.

Where did she go?

When did it all change?

Her world tilted and 

she was no longer safe.

Now she lives among the shadows

demons are her companions

monsters roam in the darkness

the angels have deserted her

   leaving her alone.

She makes her way in the world

waiting for the danger that lurks

building the fortress that will keep her safe

looking for a place to rest.

She waits for the angels to find her again

She waits for love to show her the way 

She waits for the little girl to emerge

from the darkness and into the sunlight.

Don't Judge Me Bro......

The other day we went to my son's school for a project he a presentation that his class was working on. It was a warm summer day so I wore a long flowing skirt and a flowing tank top. Now I have a fairly large piece of artwork on my back (yes most would call it a tattoo) I am proud of this tattoo and I have no qualms displaying this piece.

When we got home my daughter commented to me "Mom did you feel the judgement you got from the other mother's in the class?" I replied "yes honey I did but it doesn't matter they don't know where I have been or what I have been through and they do not know the meaning of the tattoo".

Over the past few months people have made several comments, strangers would come up to me and say "why would such a pretty girl like you do such a horrible thing to your body" and have even had family members tell me how much they hate my tattoo.

Well here is the story people. This tattoo is a collaboration between myself and an artist name Watson Atkinson. It was a two year process of soul searching and planning to tell a story and convey a journey, my journey.

As a lot of you know I have survived a myriad of events in my life that would have crushed most people. Growing up the way I did it is a miracle that I have turned out to be a semi normal functioning adult. I carry scars on the inside that are sometimes so debilitating that most days I am not sure I can take another step, fake another smile or even crawl out of bed.

Most people see a strong, confident woman who has her shit together. Well this couldn't be farther from the truth. I still wake up night in a sweat feeling his breath on my neck, can't sit in the front seat of the car without fear of being smacked in the face and constantly look over my shoulder waiting for the other shoe to drop. With a scent, a song or a sharp word I can be reduced to a 12 year old girl cowering inside the body of a 40 year old woman. I needed a way to remind myself that I have survived the worst and I can continue to survive no matter what is thrown my way.

The tattoo that we designed was the perfect way. The Black Fairy surrounded by the wording Un Couer En Hiver is the "Me" inside the true me that holds all my fears and darkness. I watched the movie once (ok maybe several times) and some days I am Camille and some days I am Stephane. (If you haven't watched this film and like movies with subtitles I highly suggest it).  I chose Ravens since they are both known for their wisdom and darkness (plus I am a huge Poe fan). If you notice I have used both black and white Ravens. The Black Ravens represent me and the White Ravens represent my children since hopefully I can protect them from all the darkness that was part of my life.

The saying that I chose was the toughest for me since there were so many things I wanted to say but in the end I chose "There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness". My children are beautiful but would not be here without their wonderfully strange mother.

So the next time you see someone and you would like to comment to them about their hair, tattoo, outfit or such, if it not a positive comment, keep it to yourself. You don't know their motivation and maybe that crazy hat,  the different colored shoes, or tattoo is what helped them get out of bed that morning and even smile.