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.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)