Shifting Tide, and the Two Things I Am Obsessed With. My Boobs

I'm not sure I can count on this or if it is just rising estrogen and testosterone in my cycle, the ebb and flow of my personal tide.
I still feel the ache, I still get teary or just cry, but something has shifted a little.  I feel I am moving forward a little.  I'm forming plans, setting goals.  I want to take ownership of my life.

I've decided, for at least the next year, to stay full time at work.  I rent my station at work.  I think I can work some classes here and there into my schedule and just shift my bookings to accommodate. I may also be committing myself to relieving the owner on Monday's so she can have two days off a week.  As it stands, she is the only one with a key.  In order to have a key we're required to pay an extra $50 per month.  I understand her thoughts behind this, it was something I struggled with when choosing this salon.  No key, working within set hours.  I've made it work.  To be asked to help her in this after just a year, to be offered this trust... well, it's necessary for her to take time for herself and her family, and I'm flattered she'd offer me the opportunity.  Salons are typically not open on Monday's.  I'd have responsibility and an opportunity to grow here.  More than likely I'll be bored outside of my own scheduled clientele so I'll bring a dvd player, a book... fill up the non-working time.

My next goal, get my debt paid off.  It's doable and I am focused.

Next, start saving some money, even if it is only $50 per month.

Next, and this is just something that has been bothering me for a long time...
Several years ago, when I was married to my sons father, I went under the knife and got breast implants.  The simple truth, I felt insecure about my body.  Sort of an obvious statement I know.  I'd always been insecure about my breasts being A-symmetrical.  I know, all women without enhancement are to some degree.  It was something I felt uncomfortable with.  I'd also nursed my sons about four years between the two of them.
Looking back even after the nursing my breasts were still pretty... but all I could see was what bothered me.
I chose a doctor after some research.  When I went his assistant was was so comfortable with the routine of her job she didn't recognize the individual.  She touched me without taking a moment to indicate she would, even my OB's do that every time.  She indicated I needed a lift on my right breast, then the implants, blahblahblah.
My husband is a cheap and selfish man.  He indulges himself well but doesn't see the necessity to consider others.  This was the first thing in our marriage I'd asked for and he actually made it a miserable experience. After the initial consult where the Dr and my husband encouraged me to get double D implants (as that was the size I'd increased to when I was nursing) he was such a jerk on the way home I cried instead of feeling excited.  I think I can honestly say this was the beginning of our end for me.  His selfishness was highlighted and magnified that day.
After I did all the prepping myself, after the surgery, he drove me and our sons to my mother's where she did post op care.

Maybe that is too much information, but it's in my head and I guess I need to put it down, I guess I need the 'conversation'.  I'm not one of those women that pretends I don't have implants (and yep, they are too big IMO but most people don't realize they are implants), I don't exactly advertise it either.
I'm average height, petite and a bit curvy in shape.

What drives me these days is in photographs I see fine-boned shoulders, and face, and torso... and these massive, misplaced boobs.
For a long time now I have wanted to remove the implants.  John loved my breasts.  I guess he was like a lot of guys.  Honestly, I can't stand them.
Instead of having my right breast lifted and balanced with my left, due to the money my husband allotted me I chose a larger implant in the smaller breast, and a smaller one in the larger breast.  While they are the same size and I don't feel the need to 'stuff' the left breast since I had the surgery, I am still asymmetrical.

Interestingly I am a statistic.  Most women that get implants decide to have them removed or reduced later.

I hate being a statistic.  I think that drive to not be one has continually set me wrecking into being just that.

So, I'll own it.  I'm over it.  I want my B cups back.  I want my body back to what it was.

I just have to figure out how to make that happen.

The need to do this is just growing exponentially as the days go on.  I fantasize about going to a casino (I haven't ever been, btw) and winning enough to pay off my credit cards and afford doing whatever needs to be done to my breasts!

Something else I will admit.  I dislike my breasts so much I don't want to be touched.  Perhaps much of this feeling is not my breasts but my continuing grief of my relationship with and loss of John.  The plain truth is this, the implants didn't make me more secure, they made me less so.  Also, I think the surgeon that did them is a Douche of the highest order.  He took a fast 5K and didn't advise me properly when I asked him pointed questions and at the time I didn't have the confidence to push for those answers.  I did what I always did back then, I took what was offered and tried to make the best of it.

It is interesting and kind of sad to look back at that me.  I wish I could advise her.  I would advise that young woman that larger breasts wouldn't make her feel more like a woman.  To at most get the lift of both and reduction of the right breast, that time would prove to her the power of what she'd become.

I have a few goals, a road to travel, a lifetime of learning and experiences left to me... and I feel my boobs are a sort of albatross.  (I'm laughing a little to myself at this)

The casino fantasy plays its mental stage of flashing lights and musical bell tones in my hopeful 'get what I want NOW' image of moving my wants into place...

Oh well... in the end it is probably meaningless.  Just thinking with my keyboard.  I'm not even going to proof read it.  I have something else I need to take care of right now.

Maybe If I Were Prone To Pacing

I'd be thinner.

I have a hard time organizing my thoughts.  I sit down and try to think clearly, even to write here, and it's like herding cats into a plastic bag.
They scatter, I lose a few, I hurt myself in the process (emotionally).

Two things terrorizing me, with an occasional third thrown in making me feel like I'm drowning in tar.

Finances/job, kids, John.

The obvious and easy bit, John.  Sometimes I am okay, which is a little like life being colorless... other times I miss him and have that crushing, can't breathe sensation.  A few times recently I've dreamt of him. It makes it harder to dream of him.
I want him to go to that place where I remember and I don't think of him constantly and feel the heaviness of grief.  Time.  I'll wait, there's nothing else but to.

The boring bit.  Finances/job.  Sad!  No joke.  My job is a Hobby.  Interestingly I have driven backwards and quite hazardously through my processing there.  First I decided to go part time and get a part time job.  Then I realized this is a useless idea as it doesn't solve my problem of being a 42 year old woman with nothing planned for her future, zero stability, zero security.  Big Fat Zero! Ugh! <see what I mean?
Then I decided to go part time and take a few classes.  Start with computer classes.  That way if I decide I need to completely quit the hair biz I can at least say I know Excel. And that other computer stuff.  Then I thought Paralegal.  I looked it up.  Fuck.  Time, $$,$$$, how would I do that?... then I was pissed I didn't think to do that when I decided on hair and drama and ... <see what I mean?  I get all rats in a cage in a room on fire in my mind.

Then I thought to actually get caught up on my paperwork.  Do my books.  I checked my earnings vs my expenses.  I do make a little.  I am doing a little better than I thought.  Maybe I can manage full time rent, be a bit more Conservative in what I purchase for work, and in my personal life (Tattoo, WHY??? yes it's pretty but damn it I could have waited, maybe forever) and just ask myself, do I really need that?  Can I use that money to pay down my credit cards instead?  My debt isn't bad all things considered, but I did add to it damn it.  That doesn't help because there are things like the dentist and car tires and...
I'll try another year full time, see if I can push a little harder at building my clientele.  On my days off I'll take those computer classes.  Maybe I'll even chip away at becoming a paralegal.  Just because I wish I could pay for school, focus only on that, and still take care of myself and my sons doesn't mean there aren't Other ways to get it done.  Damn it I am only 42.
It's Possible.

And lastly, My Heart... the reason I bother to worry about anything at all  instead  of giving up and becoming my mother and just grifting someone for my needs and letting them worry instead.  *Seriously not my personality but as she rationalizes (and this probably proves she's more intelligent than I am) Desperate Times Call for Others to Be Used By "The One Who Must Not Be Named"

My sons.  They drive me nuts but, I love being a Mom.
My 17 year old.  I think he may actually be doing okay scholastically this year.  I'm not sure if it was the threat of having to provide in entirety his own cell phone should he screw up or if he's just maturing and deciding it's just easier than summer school to at least get C's.  I sincerely hope his progress report reflects that as truth.
He has a girlfriend.  *blank*  Okay.  She's sweet, not attractive in face or body (she's stalky and built like a gymnast.  She's a swimmer and and water polo player (when she's eligible), but has real inner beauty.  However she is just a 16 year old kid with all the ideas and none of the reality.  That little bit of 'I know better' attitude.
Her family life is total crap.  Her mother lives in another state and has had other children taken off of her due to drug use and neglect.  She told me she was abused by her uncle who was often in charge of her.  She's not even sure how bad it might or might not have been.  Her only real memory is waking up with his hand down her pants.  Outside of that she said she has gaps in her childhood.  IMO, inappropriate behavior from a guardian is bad enough, but I understand and it broke my heart.  She's so open, but at the same time has a hard time trusting people.  I know exactly what she means.   Her father is, a dumb ass IMO.  He's a child.  He goes from relationship to relationship.  He ignores his home life in favor of the flavor of the moment.   I don't think he has a job, but he finds money to spend at the bar getting drunk looking for the next missus right.  He even asked his daughter if I was single and attractive.  Her response, God Bless her, "Um, You're Really Not her type Dad."
I've only met him on the phone.  This is significant because she's a sixteen year old girl.  I picked her up Sunday before last for a movie and lunch with my sons and I.  He didn't meet me face to face.  Her Grandmother did.  Her Grandmother who it seems is her only stability. Her Grandmother who recently let her know she will be moving back down south when the lease is up on their apartment.  I sincerely hope she takes her with her and leaves her father behind.  Not because of my sons feelings for her, but for her.  She deserves a decent family life.

Her father had gone out to the bar the night before to get drunk with his neighbor buddy.  Picked a woman up and stayed at his friends.  He was too hung over to meet the strangers that were picking up his daughter he claims to be over protective of.  He was still too hung over to meet us when we walked her to her door after our day together.
Having been a hungry for kind affection sort of young woman once in my life I could see we were the best few hours on a Sunday afternoon she'd experienced in a very long time.

This girl gets no real attention.  I think her grandmother is struggling to continue to raise her loser son to pay any real attention to the teen girl that just needs some pampering and some encouragement.  So I did a little.  I also exchange emails with her encouraging her to stick to her education like a life raft and to remind her she's smart, capable, and Can do it.  I try to give her a sound board, and try to talk her past her anger with the adults in her life, the let down, and to remind her of positive things, of that horizon before her, of potential.  I tell her that she won't be this kid unable to control her life much longer.  I've encouraged her to not be afraid to join the military, something she was considering.  It would take her away from her family.  Maybe give her something more substantial.  I have a female friend, married.  She and her husband and another couple recently retired, they are in their mid-forties.  Maybe see if she can mentor Sean's girlfriend a little.

Meeting her has helped me to encourage myself as well.

Immediately after our movie date, realizing my son really likes this girl, I bought bananas and condoms and taught both my seventeen year old and my thirteen year old sons how to use a condom and WHY.

Now... my thirteen year old.  Do you hear the ominous music playing to this one in the background?
He's been a pain in my ass the whole school year and it only Just Started!  Detentions, missing classwork/homework (admits he was just lazy! Admits it!), 2 day on campus suspension!  Suspension!  For writing 'My Name is Ian'with a star and another design in sharpie on the bench during an assembly about 'Good Behavior' (yes, I am still laughing about that).  Then Stealing two suckers off of his teachers desk after repeatedly asking her for one for over a week.  His patience just wore out I suppose.  He got caught and got another detention.  And a call to me.  She said that was his only reaction in regard to the theft of the suckers, his Oh Shit reaction to her asking for my number. She said other than that he is absolutely polite and respectful and that's why she was so surprised.  I cried at that call.  Awesome.  It had been a bad day and that put me over the edge.

The biggest event, I tested out his walking home from school.  You, faithful reader, may roll your eyes at this.  You do not know my son.  At the beach this last Saturday he laid face down and proceeded to make sand angels, then covered himself like a sea turtle.  He was then shocked he got sand in his eye.  The whole time seemingly unaware he was In the volleyball court while a few kids were trying to play a game.  Like a kid like that can walk home from school when school is a thirty five minute walk from school to home. Four street lights, one in particular a large intersection.

I know this because I stalked him the whole way last Friday.  Why was I terrorized someone was going to kidnap him?  No.  Seriously. It must be left over from the Santa Cruz incident.  And over this weekend I fearlessly let him walk from the beach to the car where (I knew) he was inhaling chocolate croissants while he was also retrieving bottled waters.  Why was I okay with that?  I was okay in a strange city, in a transient beach community like Pismo, but not a few blocks between school and home.

I learned he's very aware of what's going on around him.  When he didn't catch me spying he was actually paying attention to lights, traffic, and everything around him.  I was stunned.

I took him to buy him a house key, a Jamba Juice, and a candy as a reward.  But the candy was tossed out as a reward because that's when I received the email, 'Your sons progress report shows and F but he raised it to a D- in Math'
Really? Gee, a D-?!

He can't watch TV during the week until it's a solid C, this when he's capable of straight A's, no BS.  He's not showing his work in algebra.  I explained to him, as I am sure his teacher has, Algebra is all about showing your work!  Yes, he gets the right answers.  Yes, I don't blame him for feeling it's pointless busy work.  However, it is his JOB.  My job is a hobby but he doesn't know that, I also do every freaking thing else and I worry like crazy.  Get a damn C at least.  This was after the sucker stealing incident he'd recently been grounded for that made me cry, out loud.  Not just those silent tears.  I cried.  He felt really guilty.  Good, because I felt like I'd been hit by truck hauling crappy emotion.

He walked again today.  I had a crying fit this morning worrying about him.  I hate it.  I hate being debilitated by fear.  But I let him walk.  Fuck Fear.  Excuse my cursing, but darn it! I only parked one place instead of four along the route this time.  I decided to work on my books in the shade of a church parking lot.  One of the places he caught me spying on Friday.  This time he didn't even look.

Several times before, during, and after he passed feeling that rising wave of panic and worry at not seeing him and knowing he's walking on a busy street.  I pulled out after taking a few extra minutes to work on my book to give him some distance. I forced myself to drive home and wait for him.  I kept busy and he came home just fine.  I think he was whistling.

Today I took his bike to the shop next to my salon.  I'm getting it fixed up for him so he can ride it instead of walking.  Tomorrow I'll drive him and the bike so he can ride it home so we can time it.  Then day after tomorrow if he wants to ride to school he'll know how to time himself.  Yes, I'll stalk him, or maybe this time it will be the other drivers on the road.

Yes, now I am freaked out about other drivers.  I warned him about people not caring about cyclists on the road and to just be careful.  He actually made suggestions that I would have made, Yes!
I'm still afraid!  Not just an expression.  I am actually anxious and afraid.  WTH, yet...

I think he's capable.  For the first time, past my fears, I do believe it.

That is a very big deal.

Time and Change may be working in my favor.