I am a survivor of childhood abuse. I was raised to never speak of it, to remember the good and let the bad go. I was to love him, understand him, be kind, patient, grateful...
How does one do this in actuality? How do you lick your wounds alone and in silence? For me...I ate. I ate away the disappointment, the lack of support. I stuffed in the certain knowledge that indeed perhaps my father was right, I could never be smart enough, pretty enough, strong enough, basically that no matter what I ever did, said, believed or felt, I would never be enough.
Recently the pain of memories long repressed have reared their ugly head again. In my adult life I have sought out counselling about a half dozen times. Each time I leave stronger, more confident, part of my perpetual tape recording of unworthiness cut. But like an onion the effects of abuse are layered, one can not wish away a layer prematurely. Our wonderful minds sometimes don't allow us to peal away more than we can handle at a time. Rather we peal away to the raw nerve of our innermost pain until we can no longer peal away for that time.
With my weight loss surgery I am forced to deal with my actual issues as stuffing them away conveniently with donuts and soda just is no longer in the cards. I have tried! Not a good idea post surgical weight loss.
I went back to my counselor in the past two weeks and since my first time there with her was for an issue with my children we never got to delve into my own past. I was asked to write down a few items from my childhood that I felt might have left an impact in my life and to quantitate each event. I sat down and within minutes I had three pages of memories but was unable to place an order of importance on each event.
Which is worse, being beaten until blood dripped from your back and legs or seeing your sibling similarly beaten? Which has a greater impact, your brother being murdered or not eating day after day until you no longer felt hunger? Never knowing what might set him off, a look, a spilled glass of milk, constantly being on your toes to remember your manners for it wasn't just yourself you could endanger but the beating of your sibling or mother.
What we wouldn't have done to have a place to go, a bed to sleep in without the fear of being found. But sadly for us that was not to be. Today I attended a luncheon for a local shelter, I sat and listened as one after the other spoke of the good that came out of their stay in the shelter. How do we mend? Where do we mend? To whom do you turn?
This I know, we must never stop trying. We can't begin to know the pain and suffering of another individual. Happy well adjusted people do not over eat to the point of morbid obesity, alcoholics aren't thirsty...we are all searching for what ever is missing.
My greatest fear is that my father was right. I will work everyday to prove that he was mistaken, that I am pretty enough, strong enough, able enough. I am enough.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Day to day doldrums
I have come here to post a few times over the past week and left with nothing to say. Those of you that know me, know that I seldom at loss for words. Guess there just hasn't been anything, "news worthy" lately. I could tell you all about how my puppy got spayed last week...poor baby, or how my daughter is enjoying college life, my sons caught an alligator (shudder to think!) or how my hubby has been busy working longer than normal hours on night shift. But these things all put together just reflect another day, another week, another month, none so very different from the ones before. The things in life that as we go through them seem big but then fade into the background that is life itself.
We are seldom defined by the big things it is the humdrum of life that better defines who we are. My daughter and I were speaking last weekend when she came to visit how dramatically my life has changed. When the children were little, it changed in an instant, someone tripped and broke a bone, a school project long forgotten was due in the morning, a heart was broken, feelings hurt...all things that needed an instant response by mom and I was always at the wheel to steer them to calmer waters.
Now my life is defined in a slower more deliberate way. Still there are those moments that require instant response but they are further and farther between. Where then does a mother go when she is no longer defined as a mother? Shifting gears is a slow and confusing process. In it's wake I will take more time to see the world around me. Volunteer more, reflect more, nurture myself more.
We are seldom defined by the big things it is the humdrum of life that better defines who we are. My daughter and I were speaking last weekend when she came to visit how dramatically my life has changed. When the children were little, it changed in an instant, someone tripped and broke a bone, a school project long forgotten was due in the morning, a heart was broken, feelings hurt...all things that needed an instant response by mom and I was always at the wheel to steer them to calmer waters.
Now my life is defined in a slower more deliberate way. Still there are those moments that require instant response but they are further and farther between. Where then does a mother go when she is no longer defined as a mother? Shifting gears is a slow and confusing process. In it's wake I will take more time to see the world around me. Volunteer more, reflect more, nurture myself more.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Fall
Well for most of the country Fall has fallen upon us. I live in Arizona so for us it is but a day on the calendar. Our temps have fallen though they threaten to be back in triple digits by tomorrow...mid October! For the entire summer I have given myself the excuse that I can't exercise due to extreme heat...what then is my excuse now?
The morning and evening temps have gone down to a quite comfortable walking level, why then can I not find myself outside taking advantage? I have gone for some short walks with my dogs but honestly these walks are too little and too infrequent. I have been using my Wii and enjoying the exercise and dancing games, but that too is infrequent and fleeting.
This week I have honestly NOT been living by the code of my surgery. It is as if I am determined to fail, why do I do this to myself? How do I climb out of this hole that I have created? How do I find a way to WANT to climb out? My life pattern has remained the same...I do well, I stop doing well.
Why do we fall down? What keeps us down and how do we find something worth getting up for? I am a blessed person, my husband has a good job and we have enough. Often we don't get everything we want but always there is enough for what we need. I am a simple person, surrounding myself with a few niceties but for the most part happy with what I have. I feel complete...yet hopelessly incomplete.
I have fallen...how, when and why will I get up?
The morning and evening temps have gone down to a quite comfortable walking level, why then can I not find myself outside taking advantage? I have gone for some short walks with my dogs but honestly these walks are too little and too infrequent. I have been using my Wii and enjoying the exercise and dancing games, but that too is infrequent and fleeting.
This week I have honestly NOT been living by the code of my surgery. It is as if I am determined to fail, why do I do this to myself? How do I climb out of this hole that I have created? How do I find a way to WANT to climb out? My life pattern has remained the same...I do well, I stop doing well.
Why do we fall down? What keeps us down and how do we find something worth getting up for? I am a blessed person, my husband has a good job and we have enough. Often we don't get everything we want but always there is enough for what we need. I am a simple person, surrounding myself with a few niceties but for the most part happy with what I have. I feel complete...yet hopelessly incomplete.
I have fallen...how, when and why will I get up?
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Damaged Goods
For so long I felt that I stood basically alone in the knowledge that I was indeed damaged goods. Silence and secrets kept that certain knowledge from ever being questioned or challenged. I learned young that we are to keep our family secrets hidden, that nothing good could ever come by letting anyone know your situation. Unspoken messages proclaimed loudly that we are best viewed as wallflowers. I mean actually who really inspects wallpaper closely, it is something to be viewed and appreciated from afar. Best to make sure that people only saw enough of you to recognize and appreciate the flower that bloomed for all to see, never looking to see the bent and broken stem held up with duct tape and a prayer.
How often do we really inspect those around us for damaged root systems? Especially children. And at the root of who we are, do we really ever grow past being children on the inside? Along with the lesson of not speaking that which was by nature unspeakable, the lesson of duck and weave was embedded with force, with each blunt blow to the trunk of my body and the very occasional blow to the face, I learned to duck those that might ask questions and weave from the eyes of those that might view the residual damage. The internal bruises were mine, they were kept clearly out of the vision of all, mostly even to myself. Or so I thought.
For as long as I can remember food never assaulted me, never questioned me with impenetrable stares, refused to ask of me more than I could give. Food soothed my cuts, calmed my fears, shielded me from anticipation for the next episode. Food offered up to me solace from the world. Comfort for another day. Then food itself turned on me. Long ago the concrete source of my abuse was removed, age and distance saw an end to the physical but honestly any abused person can attest that we tend to pick up where the abuser ends, continuing the berating, the belittling, keeping the recording of abuse playing long after the music stops. Yes, food, the fickle friend, decided to bestow upon me many weight related maladies.
High blood pressure, elevated cholesterol and triglycerides, the constant threat of diabetes, pounding at my door. But the worst part of all with dance with food was that she told the story of our affair. I never had to open my mouth to utter words, simply open it to dine on her lies and deceit. She promised me fluffy bites of sweetness, crunchy morsels of saltiness, cold cool drinks of liquid sweetness, she seduced me completely and I allowed it. I bought the lies that she sold and she left the tail tale signs all over my hips, my waist, my bosoms. We sinned in private but she revealed our relationship in public, eventually forcing me to become reclusive. She won out...or so she thought.
The day that I made the decision to severe my ties with food's glutinous promises, was the day I freed myself from my self inflicted prison. As I walked to the operating room, I stripped her of her power, the surgeon severed any future hope she had of keeping me captive.
We do somehow survive our past, we do find ways to comfort ourselves, in time we hope to thrive...but in the meantime we find a way to inspect our damage, speak of that which we only believed to be unspeakable. If we are lucky, we discover others that plant seeds of hope within, those that accept us for who and what we are, that see our past our damaged places to find what we too can offer to the world. We find our station in life.
How often do we really inspect those around us for damaged root systems? Especially children. And at the root of who we are, do we really ever grow past being children on the inside? Along with the lesson of not speaking that which was by nature unspeakable, the lesson of duck and weave was embedded with force, with each blunt blow to the trunk of my body and the very occasional blow to the face, I learned to duck those that might ask questions and weave from the eyes of those that might view the residual damage. The internal bruises were mine, they were kept clearly out of the vision of all, mostly even to myself. Or so I thought.
For as long as I can remember food never assaulted me, never questioned me with impenetrable stares, refused to ask of me more than I could give. Food soothed my cuts, calmed my fears, shielded me from anticipation for the next episode. Food offered up to me solace from the world. Comfort for another day. Then food itself turned on me. Long ago the concrete source of my abuse was removed, age and distance saw an end to the physical but honestly any abused person can attest that we tend to pick up where the abuser ends, continuing the berating, the belittling, keeping the recording of abuse playing long after the music stops. Yes, food, the fickle friend, decided to bestow upon me many weight related maladies.
High blood pressure, elevated cholesterol and triglycerides, the constant threat of diabetes, pounding at my door. But the worst part of all with dance with food was that she told the story of our affair. I never had to open my mouth to utter words, simply open it to dine on her lies and deceit. She promised me fluffy bites of sweetness, crunchy morsels of saltiness, cold cool drinks of liquid sweetness, she seduced me completely and I allowed it. I bought the lies that she sold and she left the tail tale signs all over my hips, my waist, my bosoms. We sinned in private but she revealed our relationship in public, eventually forcing me to become reclusive. She won out...or so she thought.
The day that I made the decision to severe my ties with food's glutinous promises, was the day I freed myself from my self inflicted prison. As I walked to the operating room, I stripped her of her power, the surgeon severed any future hope she had of keeping me captive.
We do somehow survive our past, we do find ways to comfort ourselves, in time we hope to thrive...but in the meantime we find a way to inspect our damage, speak of that which we only believed to be unspeakable. If we are lucky, we discover others that plant seeds of hope within, those that accept us for who and what we are, that see our past our damaged places to find what we too can offer to the world. We find our station in life.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Alone Again...Naturally
Not so very long ago I dreaded being alone, that is where I did most of my eating. My children have now all flown away and my husband is married to his job. I spent many a day, week, month or year pretty much alone anyway, even surrounded by my family I kept alone, well within the confines of those walls that I so meticulously built. Growing up in constant abuse teaches one to keep quiet and do your best to blend. It was my desire always to be a wallflower, never dreaming of grand plans, never desiring the best of life, just learning to hope for enough.
I am blessed to have found a husband that truly does accept me for who I am, not asking more of me than I can give. He has certainly lived through some pretty bleak times with me and never wavered in his commitment to me or our marriage. He too has walls, tall ones with some pretty sturdy material that even after 25 years of marriage I have not managed to weaken. Seeing him through the years never feel good enough has caused me a great deal of pain but strangely enough it has of late taught me not to do the same. His constant feelings of inferiority have been overshadowed only by my own. As this surgery has given me fresh perspective and renewed hope I now see that these feelings are overdue to be challenged.
Now seeing my father as a lost and scared individual causes me to revisit my abuse and recognize it in a different light. There isn't an excuse for abusing a helpless child, there never will be, but now as an adult it is easier to view the experience as being perpetrated by a sick individual whose own personal needs were never addressed and met. Gone is the hate that once firmly gripped me, gone is the terrified girl that so often hid in a closet praying to escape that days beating.
We come here alone, we leave here alone, we gather experiences, hopes, enlightenment and if we are lucky we gather peace. So at this junction I can say proudly that being alone is no longer scary, it is no longer something to fear. Alone is where I now recharge, it is where I listen, it is where nature whispers to me, it is where I have begun to disassemble all the walls that have for so many years protected yet prevented me from living. As my years of fat begin to melt something new and exciting is emerging, I can't wait to get to know that lady in the mirror a little better...alone, naturally.
I am blessed to have found a husband that truly does accept me for who I am, not asking more of me than I can give. He has certainly lived through some pretty bleak times with me and never wavered in his commitment to me or our marriage. He too has walls, tall ones with some pretty sturdy material that even after 25 years of marriage I have not managed to weaken. Seeing him through the years never feel good enough has caused me a great deal of pain but strangely enough it has of late taught me not to do the same. His constant feelings of inferiority have been overshadowed only by my own. As this surgery has given me fresh perspective and renewed hope I now see that these feelings are overdue to be challenged.
Now seeing my father as a lost and scared individual causes me to revisit my abuse and recognize it in a different light. There isn't an excuse for abusing a helpless child, there never will be, but now as an adult it is easier to view the experience as being perpetrated by a sick individual whose own personal needs were never addressed and met. Gone is the hate that once firmly gripped me, gone is the terrified girl that so often hid in a closet praying to escape that days beating.
We come here alone, we leave here alone, we gather experiences, hopes, enlightenment and if we are lucky we gather peace. So at this junction I can say proudly that being alone is no longer scary, it is no longer something to fear. Alone is where I now recharge, it is where I listen, it is where nature whispers to me, it is where I have begun to disassemble all the walls that have for so many years protected yet prevented me from living. As my years of fat begin to melt something new and exciting is emerging, I can't wait to get to know that lady in the mirror a little better...alone, naturally.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Surviving a Stall
Since my WLS I have spent a great deal of time researching, reading and learning. EVERY person that loses weight goes through the dreaded stall. I had my first post surgical stall at three weeks and it lasted for three weeks. I have found that this time frame seems to be a commonly heard complaint by many in the surgical weight loss community. Because of this knowledge the fear commonly associated seemed to be tolerable. Fast forward three months...the pasts three weeks have been quite trying because in addition to not losing I have also not seen any non-scale victories either. This has been a challenging few weeks.
I have convinced myself over and over these past three weeks that indeed this isn't going to work for me. Going so far as to make peace with my still overweight but greatly more comfortable girth. I had settled in on the mind set that I can walk more comfortably, wear more clothes, bend over without pain, do household chores with greater ease, basically the brainwashing from within was in full overdrive. BUT yesterday I dropped a pound...no excitement was to be as flukes happen all the time. THEN this morning I dropped yet another pound, the party was early (I was running an early morning errand for my sister) but the dancing in my bathroom was sudden and unexpected. Since I worked so hard to convince myself to be pleased where I was, the gratification I felt at those two consecutive pounds was more than expected.
So for those of you that are attempting to lose, surgically or otherwise, please believe us when we say that stalls are normal, they are part of the journey, we ALL experience them and you will overcome. You will forget this advice, you will believe it doesn't apply for you and you will want to throw in the towel. The good part of a surgical intervention...they attach the towel to you, no longer can you "choose" to throw it in. With surgery we are all in, everyday, in every situation. Overeating is no longer an option. Just be sure to take a minute to HALT what you are doing and ask yourself what emotion is causing you to want to overeat... are you Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired? Just take an extra minute to identify your feelings and stop eating through them.
I have convinced myself over and over these past three weeks that indeed this isn't going to work for me. Going so far as to make peace with my still overweight but greatly more comfortable girth. I had settled in on the mind set that I can walk more comfortably, wear more clothes, bend over without pain, do household chores with greater ease, basically the brainwashing from within was in full overdrive. BUT yesterday I dropped a pound...no excitement was to be as flukes happen all the time. THEN this morning I dropped yet another pound, the party was early (I was running an early morning errand for my sister) but the dancing in my bathroom was sudden and unexpected. Since I worked so hard to convince myself to be pleased where I was, the gratification I felt at those two consecutive pounds was more than expected.
So for those of you that are attempting to lose, surgically or otherwise, please believe us when we say that stalls are normal, they are part of the journey, we ALL experience them and you will overcome. You will forget this advice, you will believe it doesn't apply for you and you will want to throw in the towel. The good part of a surgical intervention...they attach the towel to you, no longer can you "choose" to throw it in. With surgery we are all in, everyday, in every situation. Overeating is no longer an option. Just be sure to take a minute to HALT what you are doing and ask yourself what emotion is causing you to want to overeat... are you Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired? Just take an extra minute to identify your feelings and stop eating through them.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Visiting the Valley of life.
As I reread my last entry, I am struck that many may feel it was negative, and we are pushed by society to be positive. I for one do not believe that we should always be positive, which might surprise many of you that know me personally and find me to be an overwhelmingly positive person. By in large, I do seek to find the silver lining but learned years ago that to ignore those dark days is to go against who we sometimes are.
We should always question life, question choices, question the status quo. If we don't spend time in the valley we can't truly appreciate the mountain top. Lately I feel such conflicting emotions stirring within me and find them battling leaving me but a voyeur. Excitement for my new life and yearning for my old ways are in direct conflict right now. I am happy beyond explanation yet, fearful beyond description. Why, if my old choices were what made me so miserable, do I still desire to hold onto reckless emotional eating?
Have I veered so far from rational that I would so strongly cling to this sinking ship, that was my life? Do we ever really abandon who we used to be to adhere fully to our new beings? Is anyone capable of rewriting the entirety of who they are? Or do we instead, just chisel a little here and there on our outward persona, giving to others the illusion of change, all the while keeping our true selves hidden?
Once many years ago, during a short period of profound depression, my husband told me to quit being sad. Confused I pressed for understanding for this quite previously unheard of concept of "stopping" how I feel. He said to pretend to be happy until I was happy or least let others see me as so. This was beyond my scope of understanding for, while I had no trouble "faking" my emotional state for the general population, being someone or something that I wasn't never occurred to me within the confines of those with whom I gave and received love and comfort. He again, reiterated that he didn't want or like to see me sad and that he would prefer that I "be" happy around him. In that moment I felt something I never thought I would feel, not from him, I felt that he too like so many before him, did not accept me as I was. I am sure this was fleeting moment for him, one which most likely has no recollection, but for me it is emblazoned in my memory banks. No longer could I naively cleave to him with the full knowledge that he accepted me fully as I was, he became part of the masses that day, I wonder sometimes if that level of naivety and trust will ever be a part of my life again.
We should always question life, question choices, question the status quo. If we don't spend time in the valley we can't truly appreciate the mountain top. Lately I feel such conflicting emotions stirring within me and find them battling leaving me but a voyeur. Excitement for my new life and yearning for my old ways are in direct conflict right now. I am happy beyond explanation yet, fearful beyond description. Why, if my old choices were what made me so miserable, do I still desire to hold onto reckless emotional eating?
Have I veered so far from rational that I would so strongly cling to this sinking ship, that was my life? Do we ever really abandon who we used to be to adhere fully to our new beings? Is anyone capable of rewriting the entirety of who they are? Or do we instead, just chisel a little here and there on our outward persona, giving to others the illusion of change, all the while keeping our true selves hidden?
Once many years ago, during a short period of profound depression, my husband told me to quit being sad. Confused I pressed for understanding for this quite previously unheard of concept of "stopping" how I feel. He said to pretend to be happy until I was happy or least let others see me as so. This was beyond my scope of understanding for, while I had no trouble "faking" my emotional state for the general population, being someone or something that I wasn't never occurred to me within the confines of those with whom I gave and received love and comfort. He again, reiterated that he didn't want or like to see me sad and that he would prefer that I "be" happy around him. In that moment I felt something I never thought I would feel, not from him, I felt that he too like so many before him, did not accept me as I was. I am sure this was fleeting moment for him, one which most likely has no recollection, but for me it is emblazoned in my memory banks. No longer could I naively cleave to him with the full knowledge that he accepted me fully as I was, he became part of the masses that day, I wonder sometimes if that level of naivety and trust will ever be a part of my life again.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Mirror mirror on the wall...
Change is ever-present. To stay the same is to regress, yet here I am. Fear grips me, but I don't know the core of my fear. Food has always allowed me to repress my feelings, my thoughts, my fears and here I am stripped of my best friend, my constant companion, I stand now naked from the world of feelings, thoughts and fears. Where do I turn, what do I do, who am I now?
I stand before the mirror that is my life right now and recognize nothing. Fear freezes me, suffocates me from within, unable to move, forward or backwards I am left with nothing, I hope nothing, I plan nothing, I do nothing. The calendar moves but forgets to take me with it, I see the clock clicking away, marching forward but I do not feel the passage of time.
Where to go? What to do? When to do it? Some days I just sit and feel the rise and fall of my chest, why have I come so far, just to exist? I have hidden so long under the cloak of fat that I have forgotten...
I stand before the mirror that is my life right now and recognize nothing. Fear freezes me, suffocates me from within, unable to move, forward or backwards I am left with nothing, I hope nothing, I plan nothing, I do nothing. The calendar moves but forgets to take me with it, I see the clock clicking away, marching forward but I do not feel the passage of time.
Where to go? What to do? When to do it? Some days I just sit and feel the rise and fall of my chest, why have I come so far, just to exist? I have hidden so long under the cloak of fat that I have forgotten...
Sunday, August 14, 2011
New Chapter
On February 5, 1982 I became a mom. It was without a doubt the most overwhelmingly intense rush of emotions I have ever experienced in my life. The feeling of holding this new little complete person in my arms can't be explained with mere words, it can only be experienced. He was quickly whisked away to be bathed, weighed, measured, poked and prodded and a fresh clean little guy was quickly delivered back into my waiting arms.
It wasn't until a few hours later, exhausted from the day, and after calling the nursery for them to come and get him, whereupon they explained that newborns now sleep in the mother's room that the full impact hit me...this is it...I am now and forever more will be a mother. As proud and elated as I was the room still seemed to be lacking in oxygen or at least I was unable to inhale sufficiently to ward off the now inundating fear that would accompany such a revelation. At that very moment, my son began to cry, and I was helpless to provide his needs.
Somehow we just figure it out, a diaper, a bottle, a blanket and far too soon, a boo boo, a heartbreak, a choice of colleges, and much more in-between.
Yesterday my last baby, left for college. My nest is empty, my mind is full of memories, the house feels a little less like a home. She has flown off to find her place in the world and I am left to find what is left of me. Twenty nine years, six months, eight days of parenthood will most certainly leave one unsure of who they are as an individual.
My identity has for so long been that of a mother, finding something past that just might prove to be an exciting journey. I am up for the challenge, seeing the road before me much as I did as a teenager, exciting, unknown but now better equipped for the journey with more life experiences under my belt. After all life is nothing but a series of 'figuring it out as you go'. So bring out the pencil and paper, ummm keyboard and screen, this next chapter just might be a blockbuster yet.
It wasn't until a few hours later, exhausted from the day, and after calling the nursery for them to come and get him, whereupon they explained that newborns now sleep in the mother's room that the full impact hit me...this is it...I am now and forever more will be a mother. As proud and elated as I was the room still seemed to be lacking in oxygen or at least I was unable to inhale sufficiently to ward off the now inundating fear that would accompany such a revelation. At that very moment, my son began to cry, and I was helpless to provide his needs.
Somehow we just figure it out, a diaper, a bottle, a blanket and far too soon, a boo boo, a heartbreak, a choice of colleges, and much more in-between.
Yesterday my last baby, left for college. My nest is empty, my mind is full of memories, the house feels a little less like a home. She has flown off to find her place in the world and I am left to find what is left of me. Twenty nine years, six months, eight days of parenthood will most certainly leave one unsure of who they are as an individual.
My identity has for so long been that of a mother, finding something past that just might prove to be an exciting journey. I am up for the challenge, seeing the road before me much as I did as a teenager, exciting, unknown but now better equipped for the journey with more life experiences under my belt. After all life is nothing but a series of 'figuring it out as you go'. So bring out the pencil and paper, ummm keyboard and screen, this next chapter just might be a blockbuster yet.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Head Games
No matter how long I live I will never fully understand the head games we play with ourselves. I certainly understand the complicated relationships that contribute to "who we are" and "where we come from" but no matter how many times we "deal" with our past, it continues to rare it's judgemental head often when we least expect it.
So far in my weight loss journey I have lost 47 lbs. Not bad since I just started this latest journey the end of May, a mere 2 1/2 months ago. YET, until last week I never saw any change in the person in the mirror. Others have been commenting and complimenting but honestly it never has been about what others think but rather what do YOU see when you look in the mirror. So far I have had three long stalls one for three weeks. Currently I am in a seven day stall but worse yet, I had a five pound gain in there as well. I was put on steroids so this was more than expected yet, my mind has begun it's usual downward spiral of death.
One of the greatest blessing of having had weight loss surgery is that now I get to have a new ending to this death spiral. While my head is today throwing in the towel, my much tinier tummy now gets a much bigger vote. Failure just isn't an option any more. What will I replace this loss of control with?...many who have traveled this road before me choose other equally destructive choices since overeating was removed from the equation. Some choose alcohol others obsessive shopping, gambling or promiscuity. My choice...type...type my feelings, type my anger, type my frustration.
I feel an overwhelming need to put words to feelings, as though the very act of attaching words gives authenticity to my feelings. No longer do I wish to remain quietly on the sidelines, keeping to myself thoughts, opinions and feelings. So many of us were raised to believe that we live with the hand we are dealt, we play our cards and quietly rake in whatever winnings we receive. I have made a different choice, I am throwing back my hand of cards, not to exchange for a new hand but rather I am pushing myself away from the table, choosing a new game, one in which I no longer feel dependent on the whim of another person to deal out my life.
Head games are habits that can, with time, be broken, we need to reprogram the tape recorder in our heads, take away those recording that we play just loud enough to allow our sub-conscience to hear but never loud enough to acknowledge fully. These whispered messages are the ones self image hears so loudly, starting today I will allow myself to confront those messages, replacing them with positive messages that are more in line with what I want my world to sound like.
Today I pulled out shirts that no longer fit, purged a bit of yesterday from my life. I took a few extra minutes after drying my hair to look at me...really look at me. I liked what I saw, a beautiful, middle aged woman with full curves and an open heart, ready to listen to a new message, able to see, hear, feel and hope.
So far in my weight loss journey I have lost 47 lbs. Not bad since I just started this latest journey the end of May, a mere 2 1/2 months ago. YET, until last week I never saw any change in the person in the mirror. Others have been commenting and complimenting but honestly it never has been about what others think but rather what do YOU see when you look in the mirror. So far I have had three long stalls one for three weeks. Currently I am in a seven day stall but worse yet, I had a five pound gain in there as well. I was put on steroids so this was more than expected yet, my mind has begun it's usual downward spiral of death.
One of the greatest blessing of having had weight loss surgery is that now I get to have a new ending to this death spiral. While my head is today throwing in the towel, my much tinier tummy now gets a much bigger vote. Failure just isn't an option any more. What will I replace this loss of control with?...many who have traveled this road before me choose other equally destructive choices since overeating was removed from the equation. Some choose alcohol others obsessive shopping, gambling or promiscuity. My choice...type...type my feelings, type my anger, type my frustration.
I feel an overwhelming need to put words to feelings, as though the very act of attaching words gives authenticity to my feelings. No longer do I wish to remain quietly on the sidelines, keeping to myself thoughts, opinions and feelings. So many of us were raised to believe that we live with the hand we are dealt, we play our cards and quietly rake in whatever winnings we receive. I have made a different choice, I am throwing back my hand of cards, not to exchange for a new hand but rather I am pushing myself away from the table, choosing a new game, one in which I no longer feel dependent on the whim of another person to deal out my life.
Head games are habits that can, with time, be broken, we need to reprogram the tape recorder in our heads, take away those recording that we play just loud enough to allow our sub-conscience to hear but never loud enough to acknowledge fully. These whispered messages are the ones self image hears so loudly, starting today I will allow myself to confront those messages, replacing them with positive messages that are more in line with what I want my world to sound like.
Today I pulled out shirts that no longer fit, purged a bit of yesterday from my life. I took a few extra minutes after drying my hair to look at me...really look at me. I liked what I saw, a beautiful, middle aged woman with full curves and an open heart, ready to listen to a new message, able to see, hear, feel and hope.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Road Trip = Mind Trip
Tomorrow one of my California nieces will promise to love and cherish her darling soul mate in front of family and friends. I am blessed to be going to see the wedding but a bit nervous for the trip itself. My hubby's family is, large, Italian, loud and lovely. How my newly formed tummy will adjust to the confusion, hustle and bustle will be interesting, I am sure. This will be my third trip since my surgery but the first one that includes family in the mix. I traveled home from Mexico four days after surgery, and at the four week mark I took a day trip to California to pick up my lovely new puppy, Annie. That was 13 hours to accomplish and mostly went well.
We will head out at 4 AM which for those of you that know me and my abiding friend, Insomnia, know that this is an unreasonable hour to be sure. My DH gets up every day at 3 so for him this will be just another day. I usually manage to fall asleep by 1 or 2 AM so good luck to him, dealing with my less than pleasant mood.
This trip will be my first foray into, "you lost weight" or "something is different" or maybe no one will notice at all. I did not do the surgery for outside comments, opinions or observations but certainly they do weigh heavy on one's mind. Many people that know me might misinterpret my outgoing nature as one of confidence but they would be mistaken. I have always wanted, yearned to be the wall flower. Blending in has been my steadfast wish from as long as I can remember.
Being a nobody was a matter of survival from a very young age, walking the tightrope of never being naughty enough to be noticed to never too outstanding enough to bring attention. It is a chore that I continue to foster to this day...not a day goes by that I don't allow myself to shrink. As a child this skill was perfected and made easier by having a brother that always got in trouble and siblings that were smarter, prettier, more talented and clever than I. Blending is easier when you have built in camouflage like that.
Now I find that the cloak of fat that I wore needs to be revisited, it will disappear and what will take it's place, how will I find my way without this companion of mine? How will I answer the questions that certainly will come this weekend? Will my facade of confidence serve me? Will others see the real me, will they see the scared, shaking, shivering child the abides just under the surface? Would they like the me that I am when no one is looking? Will my wall crumble this weekend, next, or will it fall at all?
Got to finish packing...
We will head out at 4 AM which for those of you that know me and my abiding friend, Insomnia, know that this is an unreasonable hour to be sure. My DH gets up every day at 3 so for him this will be just another day. I usually manage to fall asleep by 1 or 2 AM so good luck to him, dealing with my less than pleasant mood.
This trip will be my first foray into, "you lost weight" or "something is different" or maybe no one will notice at all. I did not do the surgery for outside comments, opinions or observations but certainly they do weigh heavy on one's mind. Many people that know me might misinterpret my outgoing nature as one of confidence but they would be mistaken. I have always wanted, yearned to be the wall flower. Blending in has been my steadfast wish from as long as I can remember.
Being a nobody was a matter of survival from a very young age, walking the tightrope of never being naughty enough to be noticed to never too outstanding enough to bring attention. It is a chore that I continue to foster to this day...not a day goes by that I don't allow myself to shrink. As a child this skill was perfected and made easier by having a brother that always got in trouble and siblings that were smarter, prettier, more talented and clever than I. Blending is easier when you have built in camouflage like that.
Now I find that the cloak of fat that I wore needs to be revisited, it will disappear and what will take it's place, how will I find my way without this companion of mine? How will I answer the questions that certainly will come this weekend? Will my facade of confidence serve me? Will others see the real me, will they see the scared, shaking, shivering child the abides just under the surface? Would they like the me that I am when no one is looking? Will my wall crumble this weekend, next, or will it fall at all?
Got to finish packing...
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
My new tummy = my new life
Well the past day and a half have been...well, interesting. Since surgery there have been many times when my mind has been hungry, not so much my body but in the past it has always been my mind that speaks the loudest, complains the most, and ultimately gets its way.
For those of you that don't know, I live in the Valley of the Sun, aka Phoenix, AZ, aka the face of the sun!! For the most part we love living in Phoenix, we love the unique beauty that is the Sonoran Desert. BUT we also love air conditioning...a LOT. Yesterday it decided not to work, that proved to be a bit of an issue as the temps yesterday were at 106. Fortunately we found a kind, wonderful, compassionate man that came out and checked things out and this morning he returned with parts to get us up and running again.
The inside temps were never over 85 which was tolerable unless you did anything, like well, breathing or stuff like that! As soon as the repairman left I headed off, with my daughter to run our errands, I do believe that the traffic light gods were conspiring against me as I hit EVERY light for the first 13 miles of my trip, there were at least 25 lights, where the engine was idling and the sun was burning. The car a/c just could not keep up, then in keeping with my day, I got lost.
So I am sitting in my hot car, irritated, under severe time constraints (had to pick someone up from the airport), itching beyond explanation (still have my post op rash a reaction to the tape used to close my incision), thirsty and lost, when my low gas light comes on...really?! Well there is one thing you NEVER want to do while in Phoenix in the summer...that is to run out of gas. So off we go in search of a station, accidentally run across the very place we were searching for in the first place, and eventually get to a station for some much needed fuel.
I get out and pump gas while my daughter goes in the convenience store searching for anything that can safely go into our newly shaped tummies. She comes back unsuccessful but at least cooler than she was and we head off to finish errands. We rode about 40 feet and the light turns yellow. I look to her and we both start to laugh, this can't be real today.
We get a bit more serious and I told her that THIS is why I wanted this surgery, if ever there was a day that I would "cheat" on a diet it would have been today. I was upset, unsettled, lost, hot, itching, irritated, and HUNGRY...the perfect storm of dieting doom. Today my tummy talked, and I listened, perhaps I did not want to listen, but it was louder than before or maybe I have changed my hearing, the only difference is that it spoke a different language, one that until now has been foreign to me. It spoke and said, perhaps in the tiniest whisper, "I am fine, I don't need anything right now."
Words can't express how grateful that I am for the opportunity to get a grip on my eating, certainly there is always the wish that this could be accomplished with exercise and diet, that was not to be. This path was right for me...today I was grateful for a bad day, a really bad day...it reminded me why this is the journey I chose.
For those of you that don't know, I live in the Valley of the Sun, aka Phoenix, AZ, aka the face of the sun!! For the most part we love living in Phoenix, we love the unique beauty that is the Sonoran Desert. BUT we also love air conditioning...a LOT. Yesterday it decided not to work, that proved to be a bit of an issue as the temps yesterday were at 106. Fortunately we found a kind, wonderful, compassionate man that came out and checked things out and this morning he returned with parts to get us up and running again.
The inside temps were never over 85 which was tolerable unless you did anything, like well, breathing or stuff like that! As soon as the repairman left I headed off, with my daughter to run our errands, I do believe that the traffic light gods were conspiring against me as I hit EVERY light for the first 13 miles of my trip, there were at least 25 lights, where the engine was idling and the sun was burning. The car a/c just could not keep up, then in keeping with my day, I got lost.
So I am sitting in my hot car, irritated, under severe time constraints (had to pick someone up from the airport), itching beyond explanation (still have my post op rash a reaction to the tape used to close my incision), thirsty and lost, when my low gas light comes on...really?! Well there is one thing you NEVER want to do while in Phoenix in the summer...that is to run out of gas. So off we go in search of a station, accidentally run across the very place we were searching for in the first place, and eventually get to a station for some much needed fuel.
I get out and pump gas while my daughter goes in the convenience store searching for anything that can safely go into our newly shaped tummies. She comes back unsuccessful but at least cooler than she was and we head off to finish errands. We rode about 40 feet and the light turns yellow. I look to her and we both start to laugh, this can't be real today.
We get a bit more serious and I told her that THIS is why I wanted this surgery, if ever there was a day that I would "cheat" on a diet it would have been today. I was upset, unsettled, lost, hot, itching, irritated, and HUNGRY...the perfect storm of dieting doom. Today my tummy talked, and I listened, perhaps I did not want to listen, but it was louder than before or maybe I have changed my hearing, the only difference is that it spoke a different language, one that until now has been foreign to me. It spoke and said, perhaps in the tiniest whisper, "I am fine, I don't need anything right now."
Words can't express how grateful that I am for the opportunity to get a grip on my eating, certainly there is always the wish that this could be accomplished with exercise and diet, that was not to be. This path was right for me...today I was grateful for a bad day, a really bad day...it reminded me why this is the journey I chose.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Manna from Heaven
I just brewed a cup of my favorite coffee, poured it over a plethora of crushed ice with a splash of sugar free vanilla creamer...my first cup post-op...this is truly manna from heaven for me right now. I took a sip while carrying it into the office to let it rest, I love it just as the ice begins to melt, it was so perfect in a sinfully delicious way.
Here is to hoping that I begin to enjoy those little things in life that make the big things so much more tolerable.
My mantra for today...slow down, relax, take in the moment, and most importantly RECOGNIZE the moment. Oh course, if I could get rid of this incessant, flesh burning, blistering, itching rash next to my incisions it would sure make my day better...hope my doctor isn't upset over my decision to travel out of the country for weight loss surgery, I will find out in a few hours. Fingers crossed.
Here is to hoping that I begin to enjoy those little things in life that make the big things so much more tolerable.
My mantra for today...slow down, relax, take in the moment, and most importantly RECOGNIZE the moment. Oh course, if I could get rid of this incessant, flesh burning, blistering, itching rash next to my incisions it would sure make my day better...hope my doctor isn't upset over my decision to travel out of the country for weight loss surgery, I will find out in a few hours. Fingers crossed.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Journey is complete
Well, my daughter and I are successfully home from our trip to Mexico. We went for one surgery and ended up with another one and are both happy with the change. We ended up getting gastric sleeve surgery done, they take about 75% of your stomach out leaving a 'sleeve' for a stomach. We are surprised by how well we did and are excited about the new life that spreads before us.
Our quest isn't about being 'thin' or 'pretty' but rather to gain control of that which we have never seemed to be able to control. Both of us are strong, outspoken, fairly confident women and the fact that we had so little control over our eating pecked away at our beings, leaving a weak spot that continued to crumble who we were. Even though our physical state has not changed that much the mental shift has most definitely taken root and promises to shore up those crumbling walls.
My husband seems to be happy with our decision, frankly I think he was missing the carefree, lively woman that he married, the one that never shuddered in the face of new challenges, who embraced new days, new experiences and the unknown. There is something about the day to day humdrum that does peck away, sick children, being a taxi, never-ending sports practices, taking care of home and hubby, it just became too plain. Long gone were the days of excitement over trying a new recipe, enjoying the fresh clean smell of a newly scrubbed house, watching the clock excited to have my husband return after a long day at work. One day just lazily gave way to the next.
This decision was for me. The first truly selfish thing I ever remember doing for myself but this decision proves to be the very thing that will spur change among the entire household. No matter what the future holds there are no regrets.
Our quest isn't about being 'thin' or 'pretty' but rather to gain control of that which we have never seemed to be able to control. Both of us are strong, outspoken, fairly confident women and the fact that we had so little control over our eating pecked away at our beings, leaving a weak spot that continued to crumble who we were. Even though our physical state has not changed that much the mental shift has most definitely taken root and promises to shore up those crumbling walls.
My husband seems to be happy with our decision, frankly I think he was missing the carefree, lively woman that he married, the one that never shuddered in the face of new challenges, who embraced new days, new experiences and the unknown. There is something about the day to day humdrum that does peck away, sick children, being a taxi, never-ending sports practices, taking care of home and hubby, it just became too plain. Long gone were the days of excitement over trying a new recipe, enjoying the fresh clean smell of a newly scrubbed house, watching the clock excited to have my husband return after a long day at work. One day just lazily gave way to the next.
This decision was for me. The first truly selfish thing I ever remember doing for myself but this decision proves to be the very thing that will spur change among the entire household. No matter what the future holds there are no regrets.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Preparing the Way
My bags are packed, I'm ready to go...
The best and biggest decision I have ever made for myself and hopefully the start of a new life for me and for my daughter. We journey together tomorrow to have bariatric surgery in Mexico. Our insurance company does not allow for any treatment for obesity at all so we felt that we had to look outside the box and get creative to be able to afford this avenue of treatment.
This is a journey of self discovery, one in which we both hope to come out the other side as thinner, healthier, happier versions of our current selves. For all the years that I taught my daughter that selflessness is important in my actions, this will now show her that we do need to put self first. Without treating ourselves as important we can not then treat others as important, for love and acceptance does truly start with self.
Walking the plank tomorrow will be cathartic, diving deep into the unknown, two independent women seeking more, better, a deeper understanding of self and a willingness to give up in order to gain.
As the surgeon cuts, he will be carving out what makes me, me. Severing the umbilical cord of food from my body, as he stitches the fresh wound he will take from me my comfort, my companion, my abiding love for salty, sweet, crunchy bits of solace from the world. In its place he will impart restraint. He will sew in control. With forcefulness I will embrace this new way of nourishing my body, leaving my mind to seek alternate gratification.
I will advise you to keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times...tighten up that seat belt this ride promises to be bumpy.
The best and biggest decision I have ever made for myself and hopefully the start of a new life for me and for my daughter. We journey together tomorrow to have bariatric surgery in Mexico. Our insurance company does not allow for any treatment for obesity at all so we felt that we had to look outside the box and get creative to be able to afford this avenue of treatment.
This is a journey of self discovery, one in which we both hope to come out the other side as thinner, healthier, happier versions of our current selves. For all the years that I taught my daughter that selflessness is important in my actions, this will now show her that we do need to put self first. Without treating ourselves as important we can not then treat others as important, for love and acceptance does truly start with self.
Walking the plank tomorrow will be cathartic, diving deep into the unknown, two independent women seeking more, better, a deeper understanding of self and a willingness to give up in order to gain.
As the surgeon cuts, he will be carving out what makes me, me. Severing the umbilical cord of food from my body, as he stitches the fresh wound he will take from me my comfort, my companion, my abiding love for salty, sweet, crunchy bits of solace from the world. In its place he will impart restraint. He will sew in control. With forcefulness I will embrace this new way of nourishing my body, leaving my mind to seek alternate gratification.
I will advise you to keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times...tighten up that seat belt this ride promises to be bumpy.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
A Road Not Taken
And thus the journey begins...or at least it changes. Went to yet another doctor about two months ago. Tired, aching, just no jest for life...then make a change he says. Well, this time was different. This time I listened. Some bloodwork, some meds, some adjustment but the biggest change..I heard him. Yes there are physiological reasons for my issues but the biggest hurdle is the one that drives us all, the fuel that weaves and makes us, creates us in our entirety...the brain, not the one that can be seen on medical scan but the one that makes us the individuals that we are.
I gave him excuses, reasons if you will, for each hurdle..."then change that" was his simple and steadfast answer to each new blockade I offered to him. He was as insufferable as the counselor I saw prior to my choice to quit my job years ago and get a divorce. She, like my current doctor, was unwavering in her belief that no one is forced into a life they do not choose, she too, quickly shot down every excuse I could come up with to keep my life on course. Health insurance, job security, two incomes, my house, parents should raise a child together, she was prepared for every argument I threw her way, and he too echoed those lessons I had finally accepted so many years before. The lessons that brought to me more security by letting go, more money by giving up my job and quality time to parent my children by removing the cloud of unhappiness that enveloped my very being.
Today my path did not fork, there was no great divide for which I was forced to make a decision, instead I choose to draw upon a new map. Leaving behind that which has brought me comfort and familiarity for the new and painful journey ahead, one for which I do believe will ultimately bring me happiness which I have until now only dreamed.
Dreaming was something for others and now as this new map lays out in front of me full of promise and possibility I am filled with hope. Hope a word that would not have been used to describe my life for many years...this leaves me hopeful.
I gave him excuses, reasons if you will, for each hurdle..."then change that" was his simple and steadfast answer to each new blockade I offered to him. He was as insufferable as the counselor I saw prior to my choice to quit my job years ago and get a divorce. She, like my current doctor, was unwavering in her belief that no one is forced into a life they do not choose, she too, quickly shot down every excuse I could come up with to keep my life on course. Health insurance, job security, two incomes, my house, parents should raise a child together, she was prepared for every argument I threw her way, and he too echoed those lessons I had finally accepted so many years before. The lessons that brought to me more security by letting go, more money by giving up my job and quality time to parent my children by removing the cloud of unhappiness that enveloped my very being.
Today my path did not fork, there was no great divide for which I was forced to make a decision, instead I choose to draw upon a new map. Leaving behind that which has brought me comfort and familiarity for the new and painful journey ahead, one for which I do believe will ultimately bring me happiness which I have until now only dreamed.
Dreaming was something for others and now as this new map lays out in front of me full of promise and possibility I am filled with hope. Hope a word that would not have been used to describe my life for many years...this leaves me hopeful.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Another week, come and gone.
It's Friday...again. Just another week, nothing good, nothing bad...quite a bit of nothingness, sort of like my life the past few years. One day stumbles into the next.
If I break it down then perhaps I could say that this week was better than a month ago. I went to the gym 5 times this week. Water aerobics 4 times and cardio one. I missed one day because I never went to bed the night before.
Insomnia, my most steadfast companion, had other plans for me. Perhaps it was four different times that sleep was attempted but mostly clock watching was the activity of the night. I am mostly glad that I don't own a gun because there are nights...I'm just sayin' I know a sure fire way to clear my sinuses.
Okay, the highlights of my week...more exercise. I would like to say less eating but who am I kidding? Cleaned house, did laundry, ironing, took care of FIVE dogs, wait a minute, surely I have not just listed all these activities under my HIGHLIGHTS of the week, how sad that ironing would make my list of highlights. I REALLY do need a life. Well, I did start my book again. Since the great computer crash of November 2009, that ended up netting me a wonderful new surprise Christmas gift of a new computer, caused me to lose the entire book. I am now forced to retype the entire book. I made it to page seven.
Typing out the book is actually pretty good for me. I don't like to relive my story but it is good for me. Gratitude abounds for the decision to write this down while it was still fresh in my mind. I hope it is published one day. If my story can help just one person it would have all been worth it.
I think the most complex part of being raised by an abuser is that one never really knows what exactly they feel. Your family is still your family no matter how they treat you. Hate is strong but love is stronger. Anger hurts...everyone. It just doesn't have a place in my life. I choose to be happy. I choose to seek peace. I have peeled away those that would seek to hurt and destroy who I am. To those that seek to surround themselves with negativity, I say simply...I have no room for this energy in my life.
The old me said that I should be steadfast and unwavering in my relationships, I was taught that we do what is right because it is right. I no longer hold that to be true. Certainly all relationships ebb and flow but when you find yourself losing who you are it is best to step back and question. Being born into a family should be a blessing not a life sentence. We must all choose our paths and family has strong and everlasting ties that should be honored and esteemed but never at the cost of self.
This week I did find a bit of myself. I am preparing my office so that I can have a quiet place to work, I set up a budget to get a better handle on finances, I worked out at the gym and spent far less time in front of the TV, I cleaned out a section of my closet. One day, one task, one step...forward. I am not looking back.
If I break it down then perhaps I could say that this week was better than a month ago. I went to the gym 5 times this week. Water aerobics 4 times and cardio one. I missed one day because I never went to bed the night before.
Insomnia, my most steadfast companion, had other plans for me. Perhaps it was four different times that sleep was attempted but mostly clock watching was the activity of the night. I am mostly glad that I don't own a gun because there are nights...I'm just sayin' I know a sure fire way to clear my sinuses.
Okay, the highlights of my week...more exercise. I would like to say less eating but who am I kidding? Cleaned house, did laundry, ironing, took care of FIVE dogs, wait a minute, surely I have not just listed all these activities under my HIGHLIGHTS of the week, how sad that ironing would make my list of highlights. I REALLY do need a life. Well, I did start my book again. Since the great computer crash of November 2009, that ended up netting me a wonderful new surprise Christmas gift of a new computer, caused me to lose the entire book. I am now forced to retype the entire book. I made it to page seven.
Typing out the book is actually pretty good for me. I don't like to relive my story but it is good for me. Gratitude abounds for the decision to write this down while it was still fresh in my mind. I hope it is published one day. If my story can help just one person it would have all been worth it.
I think the most complex part of being raised by an abuser is that one never really knows what exactly they feel. Your family is still your family no matter how they treat you. Hate is strong but love is stronger. Anger hurts...everyone. It just doesn't have a place in my life. I choose to be happy. I choose to seek peace. I have peeled away those that would seek to hurt and destroy who I am. To those that seek to surround themselves with negativity, I say simply...I have no room for this energy in my life.
The old me said that I should be steadfast and unwavering in my relationships, I was taught that we do what is right because it is right. I no longer hold that to be true. Certainly all relationships ebb and flow but when you find yourself losing who you are it is best to step back and question. Being born into a family should be a blessing not a life sentence. We must all choose our paths and family has strong and everlasting ties that should be honored and esteemed but never at the cost of self.
This week I did find a bit of myself. I am preparing my office so that I can have a quiet place to work, I set up a budget to get a better handle on finances, I worked out at the gym and spent far less time in front of the TV, I cleaned out a section of my closet. One day, one task, one step...forward. I am not looking back.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Wow is that really me?
Well, with my daughter's birthday over I took the time to download my pictures which I haven't downloaded in about a month...WOW can't believe how I look.
I have never been a vain person, looks just haven't mattered but this was pretty rough. The last few years have been filled with medical issues and I have used that to shield myself from any sort of self responsibility, while there have been legitimate medical issues that have contributed to my current condition, the truth is I just don't care. I haven't cared in so long that I forgot HOW to care.
I have long used the excuse that my husband doesn't care so why should I bother....it is time to stop. This is my journey and somewhere along the way I have allowed others to tell me what I should think, what I should feel, who I should be.
Sure I can list endlessly the why's and what's but truthfully, they don't matter. My childhood, my siblings, my parents, my husband, my children....of course they contribute, how could they not but down deep...it is me. My choices, my eating, my lack of exercise...they are the reason I am where I am today.
I have long given my power over to others, but that is NOT their fault, it is mine, power can only be given, it can not be taken. When I was little it was understandable that I did not have power over my situation but I am a grown woman...one that has been living on autopilot far too long.
How does one grab back the reins? How do you begin to crawl back to a life that brought you to where you are? Does one even desire to go back to something so painful that it was worth leaving by the wayside in the first place?
I really don't know.
One step, one bite, one word....
Someday I will be able to see the future but for today, I will take what I see and what I feel and I will see it, I will feel it. I will NOT remain numb...
I have never been a vain person, looks just haven't mattered but this was pretty rough. The last few years have been filled with medical issues and I have used that to shield myself from any sort of self responsibility, while there have been legitimate medical issues that have contributed to my current condition, the truth is I just don't care. I haven't cared in so long that I forgot HOW to care.
I have long used the excuse that my husband doesn't care so why should I bother....it is time to stop. This is my journey and somewhere along the way I have allowed others to tell me what I should think, what I should feel, who I should be.
Sure I can list endlessly the why's and what's but truthfully, they don't matter. My childhood, my siblings, my parents, my husband, my children....of course they contribute, how could they not but down deep...it is me. My choices, my eating, my lack of exercise...they are the reason I am where I am today.
I have long given my power over to others, but that is NOT their fault, it is mine, power can only be given, it can not be taken. When I was little it was understandable that I did not have power over my situation but I am a grown woman...one that has been living on autopilot far too long.
How does one grab back the reins? How do you begin to crawl back to a life that brought you to where you are? Does one even desire to go back to something so painful that it was worth leaving by the wayside in the first place?
I really don't know.
One step, one bite, one word....
Someday I will be able to see the future but for today, I will take what I see and what I feel and I will see it, I will feel it. I will NOT remain numb...
Friday, January 7, 2011
All grown up
Well today my youngest child turned 20. It is official I no longer am a mother to a teenager. My oldest became a teenager in 1995 so I have mothered a teenager for the past sixteen years!! What a rollercoaster this has been.
Yesterday my daughter and I had an entire day together and what a lovely day it was. We started out at the gym doing water aerobics then off to lunch, haircuts and color, shopping, naps then Shrek the Musical. We capped off the night at IHOP (it was a long play and most places were closed).
It was a simply lovely way to end her teenage years and I was honored that she spent this day with me. Today she will be busy with her friends and I enjoy watching her enjoy her life so much.
Yesterday my daughter and I had an entire day together and what a lovely day it was. We started out at the gym doing water aerobics then off to lunch, haircuts and color, shopping, naps then Shrek the Musical. We capped off the night at IHOP (it was a long play and most places were closed).
It was a simply lovely way to end her teenage years and I was honored that she spent this day with me. Today she will be busy with her friends and I enjoy watching her enjoy her life so much.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The next day
An old friend invited me to be her facebook friend and we struck up a quick conversation via facebook. She asked me if I ever miss the old "soccer mom" days. Yes, was my quick reply but with it came a whirl of whys and memories.
The dreaded 8 AM game that entailed getting up on a Saturday morning at least by 5 to pack the car, dress all the kiddos and be sure we had snacks and the other barrage of items necessary for the day ahead. All six of us pile into the minivan along with way too much gear. Since my hubby helped to coach we had to be there at least an hour early and most often there would be a total of four games between the two boys. Cold toes, crying children, grumpy husband, lost socks, smelly gear...why wouldn't I miss it?
Somewhere between falling in love, cradling a newborn and packing for college, we seem to lose who we are. Who we are isn't priority when someone has a fever, lost their homework, or has a project due in the morning. What we want isn't uppermost when the children outgrow shoes at the speed of lighting or braces and glasses are overdue. Sleep and self nurturing aren't the soup du jour when you are a stay-at-home mom.
Looking back now...how I wish it were different. How I wish I would have allowed myself to be a priority, to give to my children the "permission" to be important. I learned from watching that motherhood meant selflessness. How very wrong those lessons were. If we never fill ourselves we end up with nothing to give. It might not show for years to come but it will. I long to be able to go back and give myself time alone, to teach my children that I was important and in so doing to give them the invaluable lesson that we CAN love ourselves. Instead I am left trying to find a way to do it now.
When I look back I loved it all...even the 8 AM games. The confusion, the energy, the family connection.
What have I learned?...that is a question for another day. ~Laurie
The dreaded 8 AM game that entailed getting up on a Saturday morning at least by 5 to pack the car, dress all the kiddos and be sure we had snacks and the other barrage of items necessary for the day ahead. All six of us pile into the minivan along with way too much gear. Since my hubby helped to coach we had to be there at least an hour early and most often there would be a total of four games between the two boys. Cold toes, crying children, grumpy husband, lost socks, smelly gear...why wouldn't I miss it?
Somewhere between falling in love, cradling a newborn and packing for college, we seem to lose who we are. Who we are isn't priority when someone has a fever, lost their homework, or has a project due in the morning. What we want isn't uppermost when the children outgrow shoes at the speed of lighting or braces and glasses are overdue. Sleep and self nurturing aren't the soup du jour when you are a stay-at-home mom.
Looking back now...how I wish it were different. How I wish I would have allowed myself to be a priority, to give to my children the "permission" to be important. I learned from watching that motherhood meant selflessness. How very wrong those lessons were. If we never fill ourselves we end up with nothing to give. It might not show for years to come but it will. I long to be able to go back and give myself time alone, to teach my children that I was important and in so doing to give them the invaluable lesson that we CAN love ourselves. Instead I am left trying to find a way to do it now.
When I look back I loved it all...even the 8 AM games. The confusion, the energy, the family connection.
What have I learned?...that is a question for another day. ~Laurie
Monday, January 3, 2011
New Day
Well, so today starts a new day and with it a blog. Haven't tried this before, have no idea where, if anywhere it goes OR if anyone besides myself will read it...
None the less, I will go on. Never did I believe that I would be where I am...a lonely middle age woman lost amongst time and life. Having always been so very full of life this was not what I envisioned for myself. As a mother, there was no time for questions, having four very active children time for me wasn't really a luxury I could afford. Questioning about who I was or what I stood for, just didn't happen, now I have time...lots and lots of time.
I have not been a good steward of this time and now find that it is time to start to do something about it. So here I am unapologetically starting to find myself...welcome. ~Laurie
None the less, I will go on. Never did I believe that I would be where I am...a lonely middle age woman lost amongst time and life. Having always been so very full of life this was not what I envisioned for myself. As a mother, there was no time for questions, having four very active children time for me wasn't really a luxury I could afford. Questioning about who I was or what I stood for, just didn't happen, now I have time...lots and lots of time.
I have not been a good steward of this time and now find that it is time to start to do something about it. So here I am unapologetically starting to find myself...welcome. ~Laurie
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