Two ships...

Today started out innocent enough, but I should have stayed in bed. I have felt the sting of rejection, which for the most I can handle...it's just hard when you don't know why someone does it. Am I defective, is there something I have done to hurt the person, did they finally realize that I am too fat to be around or my insecurities overwhelmed them? No matter the reason it is still hard to experience loss even if you never met the person, or had limited contact. I don't necessarily mourn them, rather I mourn the friendship that could have been if given the chance. When someone promises to be there for you, you want to be able to take them at their word. But no one can really make such promises...situations change, people aren't what you thought they were or any number of alterations can take place. I would hope that the rejection is not due to anything I did to harm them or offend them. I never set out to hurt people, it is true what they say...the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

In any event, I have lost someone I had hoped would be in my life. They blew out just as quickly as they blew in. Like two ships in the night we passed for a brief moment and that was all that was meant to happen. I am lucky to have had the experience and the brief thought of happiness that may have been an added benefit. I wish it would have been different, but it is what it is. I must gather strength and forge on in this new world of derby that has all but taken me over. I have others who support me and care for me, and I guess I needed to be reminded of the blessings and people that are in my life and not focus so much on what I have lost or who is missing. I thank those that took the time out of their busy lives today to remind me of that. I love you guys. And you know who you are. xoxo.

Deleted posts...

I deleted some posts. I have my reasons. Sorry if I offend anyone. I'm sure it won't be the last time.
d

Now what...

Last Saturday I observed an open practice session for new skaters at Potential Fresh Meat, the roller derby teaching grounds from stops and slides to tryouts for Rat City, Jet City and the Tilted Thunder Rail Birds Rollergirls. While no one there said a word to me, I was there after all to just observe what a practice is like...well, one girl said hi mostly from necessity as we were both initially lost on which bay door to go into. It was great getting to see and hear instruction from derby girls to derby girls. While I did not participate, I did get to learn about T-stops, Plow stops, single knee slides, the side butt slide to a stop and this cool thing where you slide on one knee and then you rotate 180 degrees. I don't do the stops justice by my words, but they were cool. They looked easy to grasp but I imagine it is hard to throw your cautionary thoughts out the window and trust your gear to protect you. Actually I don't imagine, I'm pretty damn sure.

After PFM I headed to Wallingford to get geared up at Fast Girl Skates, a store locally owned and operated by roller derby girls. It was a sobering experience...walking into a store and letting the staff pretty much dictate every aspect of my shopping. Yes, I was able to pick between certain brands based on comfort but I had no idea what I was doing, but in the end I walked out with my Rebel skates, Triple 8 helmet, wrist, elbow and knee pads, a mouth guard, an all in one tool to change the truck/stopper/wheels and several Blood and Thunder/fiveonfive magazines. Yeah it was a lot of money, but I was prepared for what I spent, actually I thought I would spend more but I am happy with my goodies.

I then headed to Glazer's Photography to rent a special lens for the Rat City vs. Rose City bout that would be taking place in a few hours, all in the hopes I could get better stop motion pictures of the bouts. I didn't have anything else planned so I headed to Key Arena to be the first in line to get in. I began reading my Down and Derby book while waiting and then got to meet Anya Heels' husband in line...he is very nice. While I'm not big on guys it was sweet seeing his face light up when someone mentioned his wife. Kind of like that middle school boy crush giddy grin thing. While I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Anya herself, it was cool getting to meet her husband.

I am constantly amazed at the people I meet in derby, the vast majority are from what seems like a different planet. Those I have met or befriended on facebook don't care what I do as a profession, they don't care how much I make, they don't care that I'm not pretty, they don't care that I'm a fattie, they don't care that I'm gay, they don't care that I don't know how to skate...BUT they really seem to care about...well, just me. They tell me that I can learn to skate, they tell me that they will help me, they provide guidance and acceptance on a level I am not accustomed to. And frankly it scares the shit out of me...the derby world is one I don't understand and can not readily relate to. Granted they don't actually know me, but I don't hide who I am in my blog posts, my photos or my facebook entries. I don't hide that I have a horrible self image, I don't hide that I think very little of myself...and that too scares the shit out of me. What happens if when they finally meet me, they realize that I really am who I think I am? Blah.

The Rat vs Rose bouts were amazing...Grave Danger when into sudden death overtime, there were major spills, great scoring jams and lots of hard hitting. Being track side is almost unreal. The action is so close and it is so loud when almost 7000 fans are screaming for their teams. Half way through the night I found myself sitting between a Socket Wench and several Throttle Rockets...no sport on Earth can give you this. It's truly electric.

I have never received so much happiness from a group of people in my life...keep in mind my religion is less than accepting of who I am so my frame of reference is slightly skewed. But the world I live in, doesn't value fatties either so maybe I know more than I think on the topic of exclusion. All I know is how I feel...and I feel supported, accepted, cared for, encouraged and inspired by this sport. This may sound trite, but roller derby has given me something to celebrate, something to cherish...something to live for.

I continue to celebrate, acknowledge and praise this sport...its players and morals. It's almost its own religion. You inhale its sweet intoxication and it takes you over. I am so grateful for the support and acceptance of Carmen Getsome, Scott Lamb, Gretchen Lehman, Eric Skate Tool, Ajah Yancey, Pandora Bloxx, Seditious Heart and Anya Heels. I know there are more of you out there and I hope you forgive me for omitting your names. But please know you are in my heart and thoughts and I thank God everyday for people like you...and that God has allowed me to become part of your lives.

With all that said, I'm geared up and have no excuse to not skate. So now what...

From statistics to derby...

I was talking to mom tonight about roller derby, about the really cool people I have met and made contacts with all of which don't seem to care about my size, how I look or what I do. These derby folk are unlike anything I have ever known...like an entire new form of civilization. I have never felt so encouraged, so supported and accepted than I do now with these people who I really only share one thing with. Roller derby. Yes, they don't actually know me but I make no pretense as to who I am, how much I weigh, how unhealthy and unfit I am. They just don't seem to care. It's amazing and honestly, words fail me when I try to share my feelings about them all. People from Arizona, California, Oregon...even Australia.

Mom said that she's really happy that there is something that I have found that brings me joy and happiness, where people accept me for me and encourage me to be healthy, active and strong. Empowered. This was the first time she really said something positive about my desire/obsession to become derby ready. I told her that I'm trying to eat better, smaller portions and work out...and while she doesn't feel the need to do those things, she does finally agree that we should do something about our weight and health.

She also said that I needed to stop being so down on myself, "deb this is no different than when you were taking statistics...you would read the syllabus and call me saying that you couldn't do this class and you wouldn't make it through it." She always told me on the phone that it was like eating an elephant, one spoonful at a time. And so here she is yet again telling me to slow down, don't look at the back of the book that shows you where you will be, just go chapter by chapter and in the end you will make it.

I love my mom, I hate statistics and I'm starting to be consumed by roller derby. I think my life will be divided by pre and post derby. I'm not saying that derby is as big a deal as Christ being born but for me, it's huge. Everyone says I can do this...I just wish I had someone to walk this journey with me, to help me eat better, to push me to do one more exercise, to make sure I'm doing this right. Either way, I've started my journey and I am happy to have roller derby friends to tag along.

Fortune cookies and skates...

I got my first issue of fiveonfive magazine in the mail yesterday...read it cover to cover and at some point found myself practically drooling over the boots, shoes, wheels, tights, and my gosh don't forget the safety gear, can't think of derby without thinking brain bucket.

Then while reading an article from Mimi Metal Storm (Canberra Roller Derby League) a section of words towards the end of the article hit me like a brick. It was like the feeling you get when you go to church and the preacher gives a talk that you would swear was specifically just for you. Like opening a fortune cookie that is spot on to whatever is going on in your life. You know, when you get that tingly sensation like destiny or the universe is talking to you?

"When you're watching a bout and think to yourself, if I wasn't already playing this game, I would so want to be...then you know you're a derby girl."

I cracked open my cookie and found my fortune on page 37.

At the base of the Mountain...

It always bothered me when people would use the analogy of "you can't see the forest through the trees." I just didn't get it. What do you mean you can't see the forest...you're in it. I don't know why I felt that I needed to share that with you, but it's there. So do with it what you will, maybe it will make sense when my fingers are done typing the words that have yet to come to mind.

I am struggling today, not that I never do, each day is often a struggle for me...I struggle to fall asleep, I struggle to get out of bed in the morning, I struggle driving into work, I struggle dealing with clients that show little progress all the while draining my efforts and compassion past their reserves. I struggle dealing with my coworkers for any number of reasons, I struggle meeting the continued pressures of my job in the midst of shrinking resources, I struggle finding happiness in a career that sucks the life from you...but I'm really good at what I do. Sigh. Some days I am strong and capable, full of life and energy and some days are like today...slow, demanding and depressing. I struggle just trying to be like everyone else. Why is that everyone else seems so happy and that good things so easily come to them while others struggle? Life is confusing, and it vexes me so at times. Again I have no idea why my fingers type these words, I do not censor myself here, in this place...this blog for all to see. My exterior so put together, intelligent, confident, collected and happy. My interior...moody, depressed, anxious, worthless.

I wonder sometimes what people must think of me after they read my words, when they find me to be such a contradiction in motion. Will they think less of me because I am not the cocky flirt that I portray? Will they think me defective? Do I think me defective?

This roller derby thing has me so conflicted, so torn between who I see myself as and the person inside that really wants to be me. Confusing I know. Welcome to world. It's like I'm an active, beautiful, confident, athletic woman inside...stuck underneath all these layers of fat and depression and years of tapes playing in my mind about the placement of fatties in society. What's worse is that you can have 20 positive comments of support and "you can do it" statements and then get just one that only has a hint of "I don't think you can do this" lingers the longest. Why is that we always put more emphasis on the negative than the positive?

So here I stand, after getting out of the car...paying the parking fee outside the trail that twists and turns steadily upwards through the trees and disappears in think brush and foliage. In the distance I can see the mountain, steep, ragged, intimidating...I have yet to move my feet from the concrete to the rocky path before me and I stop, "can I really do this?" Not only do I have heavy feet, bad knees, a backpack full of emotional baggage that I must go forth with...I carry 36 years of fat and weak muscles that must see this 270 pound woman up the trail through the forest, over logs and through streams until I finally find my way to the base of the mountain.

But that is not the end...it is only the beginning. My real test, my real challenge, my real goal is to climb that mountain. I have mentally prepared myself...taking stock of my strengths and weaknesses. I wish there was a cable car to take me to the top, but there is not...this is my journey. There are not many things that I ever complete, but I can't half ass my way through this. It is all or nothing. With a deep sigh I stare down at my feet willing them to move forward, look upwards to the mountain, pull my straps tight, secure my keys and my right foot lifts off the concrete...

Living in Fear...

Some of my earliest memories center around fear, so much so that I think aside from love, it was likely the next feeling or emotion I learned. It would be easy to point the finger at so many variables in my life, some to a greater or lesser extent. Logical assignments could go to my parents but that would be incorrect to label blame their way...each did their best to raise me for better or worse. The next logical cliff of blame would be the church, much like Catholicism they place great emphasis on the deeds of the person either leading to a positive or negative ending. The churches reach in my life appears never ending, but I believe the damage it has done in my life falls strictly on my shoulders for being born gay and unable to reconcile my two sides.

The only place of blame that readily comes to mind save it be those already mentioned, falls squarely on my emotional insecurities and allowing the crude head games and bullying I received to scar me for life. I don't wish to spend this entry working out the issues that my church and I have (I am afraid there will never be enough time), and certainly not any issues with my parents...this entry is dedicated to my fat ass self. The very self that has never accepted who she was because she was told that fatties don't count in life, that they are not valued, that they do not belong, that they deserve to be assaulted on the play ground, laughed at in classes, shoved into lockers and told over and over again that fat kids don't play sports. I was a very physical child growing up, always outside playing sports, running around, total "tom boy." But as I became aware that there was a difference between the skinny girl down the block and my fat ass...my physical self silently slipped away. With friends that accepted me I played volleyball, bowling, tennis, basketball and football...hardly worried about what I looked like fat flying everywhere, shirt and pants not neatly hanging on me. But with the rest of the world, I sat back silently content, resign to my fate that fat girls don't find love and they certainly don't play sports.

I have wandered this life feeling my soul longing to be physical, to break from the chains of bondage that all those insults and beatings tied me down with. I always felt...well, disjointed. Physically slower and lesser, but with a spirit that could keep up with life...that could hike, bike, boat and do what I always longed to do...play. I managed to keep my active self somewhat satisfied by coaching volleyball and basketball, managing teams in football and track...I could at the very least live that side of me through others. Years have passed, I got older and my body started to give up its once youthful spring. Now I can practically sneeze and pull a muscle. I fear that my inner-physical self has missed its chance to shine...and by extension, I have lost a significant part of who I could have become. I could have become someone who likes myself, dare I say even love myself.

Only recently have the two sides of myself created so much trouble, so much friction and kept me awake at night in deep contemplation. (it seems there are many sides of me...fat vs. physical, gay vs. Mormon) I tried learning how to skate when I was younger but spent more time on my fat ass than upright and easily quit after being teased both in and out of school for looking like a fool. Never did I think skating would be the instrument of change for me. I went to the first bout of the Rat City Rollergirls and found myself all but jumping into the fray...amazed at the talent of the women who skated before me. Some skinny, some medium, some bigger. There were fat girls doing things that I never knew possible...that I never realized was acceptable for "fatties." With that small taste, my life as I knew it stopped.

But did I dare even dream that I could ever be half as good as even the worst player? The first seed of thought was planted by Lacey Ramon's mom who told me that I could learn how to skate,"they all looked like Bambi on ice at first." The second seed was planted by Jamie Salazar who again encouraged me to do it regardless of how I looked or what I knew. Before I knew it, seeds were being planted by everyone that I was starting to know in derby...Pitchit (Derby Deeds), Viacorp, Ajah, Jackie, Jewanna, PFM, LeAnne, Lacey, Jamie, Keith, Suzanne, and Shalimar. But I know there are more who have made comments here and there to show their support. Yes, none of these people really know me, and no, they don't really know how fat I am or how uncoordinated I am...they don't care. I have no idea what that must feel like, to not care but support and encourage nonetheless. How incredibly freeing.

It was a sad thing when I told my mom that I wanted to learn how to skate to see if I could then learn to derby. She has never disapproved of something I wanted to do, so it came as a great surprise when she said no...then making a seemingly backhanded comment about waiting for the calls when I break my leg. I tried to push away my growing desire to learn how to skate hoping that I could someday be good enough to derby, after all if my mom didn't think I should do it...who was I to question?

I'm finding derby is like a rash...rink rash to be exact. You try your best to avoid it, but it smacks you upside the ass and spreads. I can't ignore my love for this sport, I can't just go and watch and not desire to be in the middle of the pack blocking the opposing jammer while helping my teams jammer break free and score...

No, I can't skate. No, I don't if I can learn. Yes, I will look like a fatty and get laughed at. But I have to try. I NEED to try. And I thank all of you who have stood firm in your encouragement even though you don't know me. Oh, and for those that compare my size to that of the great Anya Heels (whom I am fatter than)...I consider it a major compliment. She is amazing. Thank you derby friends, I love each and every one of you...and to the wonderful Seditious Heart for offering to teach me to skate without knowing or ever meeting me...there is a special place in Heaven for you. Thank you.

Here's to no more living in fear...