Squatty Potty - A Crappy Post

There are days you learn things you will never truly understand, even though it makes sense. This week I have learned about the Squatty Potty. What is this? you might ask. Well, simply put, it's a contraption to help you defecate. I stumbled upon it because I follow an Instagram account about good foods and bad foods. Last week, they did a special seven day picture-a-thon of ways to resolve constipation. Now, I don't have such a problem, just one of the advantages of having a plant-based diet and drinking lots of water. Not that anyone needs to know about my regularity.

The point is, the pictures were in my feed and, when I came across the Squatty Potty, I paused.

Totally reasonable, right? 

The science behind it is sound, I suppose. With your knees elevated, your hips align with your colon, thus mimicking a squatting position. While sitting bends the colon, squatting properly actually opens the colon and allows you to evacuate more waste. (Side note, this is really hard to write without using words like shit, shitting, and cop a squat). Anyhow, I figure this is what is what the cavemen used to do, right? Neanderthals didn't have toilets. They squatted in the bush. So, in theory, this makes total sense. 

And in other cultures it's common to squat. There are even toilets built right into the floor that you squat over. But the advertisements for the Squatty Potty are straight up ridiculous and, as someone who just stumbled upon this newfangled way of pooping, it's a bit startling. Except, I think I'm just out of the poop loop. On Facebook, the Squatty Potty has 17, 787 likes! And the helpfulness of the elimination station (as they call it) is spreading rapidly. It was even on Dr. Oz! There are two options, a plastic one and the fabulous bamboo one depicted above, and come in seven or nine inches tall. Fun fecaling for the whole family! But they have other amazing things to offer on their website too, like a fresh water bidet and Smooth Move - a colon cleanser. In fact, you can even buy this delightful t-shirt: 

Anyhow, if you are looking for a way to relieve hemorrhoids, IBS, constipation, bloating or any bladder problems, why not pick a toilet stool up? (Toilet stool? Heh. Funny.) The plastic one is only twenty bucks, but the bamboo, which is much nicer, will run you around sixty. Don't wait, learn how to poo like a pro today!!

You're welcome.  

In Conclusion

Remember how I was trying to retrain my brain to be more positive? No? Well, that's embarrassing. I posted a vlog about it and everything. You're supposed to hang on my every word, people! Anyway, the whole idea was to do five tasks every day and by doing these things I'd get happier, and more optimistic and crap.

Well, the twenty-one days are up. The end result is not exactly what I expected.

Let me break this down for you.

While I do feel this challenge was worth my time and energy, my brain hasn't exactly been retrained. There are still clouds of negativity obscuring the sunshine from time-to-time. I never really considered myself a negative person, but it seems as though I am, indeed, a glass half-empty kind of girl.

I know where this pesky idiosyncrasy comes from, and I do try to kybosh it, but I have my bad days. On those days I can be a right Bitchy Betty, or a Sappy Sally, it all depends on how I roll out of bed. I tell myself the bad days exist in order for me to appreciate the good ones. And it isn't so much that I am pessimistic, but realistic, and I worry. I do. I'm a worrier. This is a hard trait to break.

In the end, I fear it will take a 365 day challenge for me to get over this deep-seated (and entirely annoying) characteristic. I am fully aware if I were a character in a book, this is the trait I would despise about myself. And yet, even now, as I write this, I am stressing about money and cigarettes. Don't ask. It will take far too long for me to explain.

The highlight of the 21 Day Challenge, and the five tasks, was, without a doubt, the exercise. Does that shock you? It's true. I felt like it was something I HAD to do, but I also WANTED to do it.

Back when I lived on the mainland, I used to workout every day at the gym. Breaking a sweat made me feel alive. Those endorphins are hard to ignore. They tease and taunt me. And being inactive, sedentary, is not fun. In fact, it sucks a lot. Everyday I didn't work out, I felt worse about not being active. A vicious cycle. One that's hard to break. Sometimes we need a push.

I decided to get up early in the mornings and sneak a walk in with the dog. To most, that doesn't sound like much exercise. A stroll around the neighbourhood with a hound padding softly at my heels. Ha ha ha. I wish. When I go for a walk, I run, climb and try to wrangle a eighty pound woofer who is stubborn as all hell. It's kind of a full body work out. The village I live in is riddled with these mountain trails and I love to get lost in them. By the end, I'm sweaty and there's usually a dull ache in my butt or thighs. Sometimes both.

This exercise isn't enough for me. I wish I could go hiking for six hours a day. But I have to work and all I have is the hour before work to do it in. This is something I am going to keep on doing. Being outdoors, in nature, using my body, makes me feel refreshed. And happy. Besides, what's an hour on the grand scale of things? It's a television program or a long soak in the tub. Exercise is more important than the latest Dexter or being clean. Maybe.

I would also recommend the writing challenges for everyone to do. Think of three things you are grateful for a day, write them down, along with a positive experience you have had. These truly did work for me. It opened my eyes to things I didn't really even realize I was seeing. It simplified my life. I was grateful for a lot of free, everyday events, people and objects. Things I see, touch, hear and smell every single day stood out to me. And stand out for me. Because even now, I see at last three things I am grateful for. Sunshine. Gumballs. And vintage thrift store finds.

It's funny because until I wrote these items down, I kind of took them for granted. Or didn't think about them. Now when I take a look around, I see things a bit differently. I imagine if I continued to do these two very simply tasks, I'd see the world completely different one day. That is an exciting idea.

Lastly, I suck at meditation.

I am actually thinking about giving up on this. In the last couple years, I have tried so hard to meditate. I've selected my mantra. Cleared my head. Closed my eyes. And...nothing. I focus on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. And...nothing. I am still there. Listening to the world around me. Maybe this whole meditation Zen thing simply isn't for me. I am guessing I simply haven't figured out MY way of getting there. I would like to say I am hopeful and it will come to me, but I have my doubts. Until then, I will just try not to fall asleep.

The truth is, I think, the outcome of these sort of challenges vary. Maybe some people only need 21 days to retrain their brain, but maybe some of us need longer. Because maybe we have more damage or issues to work through.

So, the challenge was interesting. Totally worthwhile, but I'm just not there yet. It could have been because a massive monkey wrench was thrown in the works at the beginning of this endeavour. Learning to forgive AND retraining my brain might have been a lofty goal. But I stuck with it, so there's that, and I think a little pat on the back is warranted. Still, there is work to be done. Lots and lots of work.

Hot & Sweaty On Our Walk

Feeling Like A Joke

I've been meaning to do this sooner, but the intersnacks have been dodgy.

The interesting thing about blogging for me is that it works as a diary, helping me sort through the mountains of ridiculous crap floating around in my head. When I don't have the option, things sort of pile up and, no matter how much I stew over it, I can't just let things go. There's this weird part of writing things down that helps me release them. Sure, I could simply sit down with a pen and paper and get to scribbling, but...

No, wait. That's exactly what I did. And to be honest, it really didn't work. You see, I've been having a terrible time sleeping, which is most likely related to the state of mind I've worked myself into. Last night, for some inexplicable reason, I thought it a good idea to scrawl down the free fall of thoughts in my head. Of course, it was three in the morning and they didn't exactly come out orderly and pretty.

Actually, they came out like some haphazard list of possible blog topics, most of which I've already touched on in previous posts and others I'm not sure if I'm strong (or stubborn) enough to write about. The most common theme throughout them is feeling lonely, and health of body and mind. To me, if you have a healthy mind, your body will follow suit, mostly because you'll be motivated to get up and out and actually do something. It's been raining here, and getting up has been a chore.

Anyway, one of the points I jotted down, the first one, has been stuck in my craw for days. It's the source of a lot of heartache. And so, I'm writing about it. Here. In hopes of being able to let it go after. The thing is, I tried confronting it before, but it doesn't seem to matter how much I deep breathe or stretch my mind and body, it's there, needling away at me. I even tried talking about it, but what good is that when you feel stupid for even bringing it up.

Here's a shocking point, it's hard for me to talk about things. Surprise. It's easy to assume I'm a great talker, because I blog and vlog, but that's simply not the case. There are only two people who I feel comfortable telling anything to. I fear anyone else will take it the wrong way, maybe personally, and then offer up advice that won't help. The thing everyone needs to learn is - advice usually isn't what the person talking wants...or needs.

Back to the point, and the issue that's helped derail me from the path I was quite content to be travelling on. I'm a joke. Maybe not to you, or anyone else, but to myself, which is the person who counts the most. Today, and for the last little while, I feel like everything I do or say is a joke. And not when I'm actually being funny, but the serious stuff. My writing. The relationships I have. What I do for others. My love for knitting. Respect for animals. Everything just feels like one big joke and I'm the punchline. And not a very good one. The kind people chuckle at uncomfortably.

It doesn't seem to matter how much effort I put out or time or love or dedication, I feel pathetic. As though I am a sad little attempt at living. Where nothing I do or say matters enough to be taken note of. It's as though I'm simply playing a role, and not doing a very good job.

To be completely up front with you, it's a craptastic way to feel. And, in the battle between common sense and unreasonable feelings, rational thinking never wins.

I've tried putting a mask on and saying, I'm fine and going about my day, but the hitch is, I'm analyzing every piece of my life and losing grasp of what it is I cherished. The longer I harbour this passenger, the more I become the fool, and the feelings of displacement grow stronger. Other not-so-awesome thoughts pop into my head at unfair times. Like feeling invisible. Unwanted. A piece of furniture that always gets in the way, takes up too much room and isn't very pretty to look at. Then, the loneliness seeps in. A silent messenger who comes in the middle of the night when I'm laying next to someone.

Then I start wondering, why I'm not getting what I want?

I know it isn't fair, to want someone else to make me feel better. To distract me. To help me through the tangled knots of my mind. To reassure me that I'm not so bad. To love me even when it's hard to love myself. To forgive my bad mood. To understand where I'm coming from. To see me for who I am, not who I want to be or think I am. To demand attention. To want to be held, kissed and hugged, simply because I'm not happy with the reflection in the mirror.

It isn't fair of me to project my own demons onto someone else.  

The hardest part is, I've been here before, and  it's frustrating because I don't know how I got here again. This girl isn't me. I'm not supposed to be resentful or bitter. This uncertainty doesn't look good on me. I thought I managed to free myself of the constraints of my past, but it's there, sneaking up when it finds a chink in my armour and delivering blow after blow. Apparently, this baggage isn't going anywhere.

I'm a child again. A sad, dysfunctional child wanting the approval and affection of the people I love. Who feels disappointed in herself for letting others down. For letting herself down. The little, ugly, chubby, messy girl with the ratty hair and ill-fitting jeans. She is at the centre of who I am. And the little bitch is strong, and demanding.

I guess this has been going on since Christmas. Ever since, I've felt as thought things have changed. Inside me and all around me. And there's truth in change. We stop doing things for reasons. I'm trying hard to work through those, but the glue and staples don't seem to be holding.

Usually, I pull away. Distance myself. Put up walls. Hide out until the storm passes, or at least ravages and ruins everything in its wake. It seems as though no matter how hard I try not to, I revert back to the girl who doesn't want to get hurt and only ends up hurting myself. The thing is, I'm trying, to talk, to explain, to have some sort of connection that feels real, but I doubt whether it's working. Maybe I'm looking for feed back. A nod. Blink of an eye. Or perhaps just a simple clearing of the throat.

Everything I've wrote on this blog in the past is truth. I know that in my heart, even if it is stubborn and angry right now. Love is the way. You have to be beautiful inside to be beautiful out. Happiness comes from within. It's the little things in life. But the funny thing is, no matter how much you know to be true, all it takes is a shift in weather to fog up your glasses and change the way you see the world.

I'm hoping for another change in weather soon, so I can go back to seeing myself and the world for what it truly is.

And now, a quote:

Perhaps I shouldn't have posted this. That's it, I'm writing about cake tomorrow.