FullaBella's Journal, 25 November 2013

Monday Evening and I'm sitting here watching DH and just waiting for a sign, a show of mercy or the gift of wisdom to make the right decision or at least a spark of confidence to feel that I have done so already. I think I have gone thru the five stages of death about a dozen times a day for far too long. I'm weary. And I'm sorry this is depressing but I'm hurting and I need to get this out of my head.

I was so frustrated because I wrote an email to someone in real life and I began the email with 'I would call about this but I really don't feel like talking so read, don't read but it helps me to feel I'm sending my feelings 'somewhere'. What did she do? She called me.

I know, that would seem nice but after I said 'I really can't talk about it, I just don't want to say the words out loud' she started telling me all about her life.

And I felt so selfish because I didn't want to hear about it right then. I wanted to express myself in writing and mourn quietly, selfishly, privately?

My patience is at zero for everyone but DH; the more of my patience he requires the less I have for others. My Gson's came over today for and I asked them to do a couple of things for me. Once again I reminded them to not put stuff on the top of the glass display cases to prevent scratching.

Once again, they plopped a bunch of boxes on them. I was so angry I swung my arm at them (the boxes) and they flew across the room about 10 feet.(they were empty) I didn't strike anyone, I never have in my whole life.

I want to right now. No one in particular. I'm angry and I want to hit something. I need a punching bag. But I know that I can hurt myself just as bad if I start swinging and hitting things without training. So I continue to hold all of this pain inside and again, I'm sorry but I need to get it out of my head. I feel it flowing down past my very heavy heart out of my finger tips and you are all so wonderful I feel it being wrapped in the love you show me and I feel better. I also feel safer because none of you can phone me (hah).

Lest this read like a pitiful broken record, let me share a couple of things on a more positive note. The 'designer shirt' adjustment worked out pretty cool. What I did was cut the shirt up the back but stopped at the yoke. I left the yoke and collar in tact therefore not requiring any snaps, buttons or strings nor creating anything scratchy on his neck but it keeps the shirt on his chest and shoulders (unlike a hospital gown). I used iron on bonding tape (because I don't have a sewing machine) to hem the edges of the cut.

Next - Chai Latte - tried this Vue flavor today - 60 cals and that's more than I prefer to 'drink' but oh so good. I did find some at their website they claim have no calories, carbs or sugar but that mystifies me. How can anything naturally have a flavor but no nutritional breakdown? Just how much processed stuff is in it? I guess I don't feel comfortable with something that sounds too good to be true.

Eating.. well, the day started out good with breakfast, in a way. I've been missing fresh spinach so I picked some up yesterday despite declaring it an unnecessary food when I began walking to the market (that doesn't carry it). So I had some leftover pork roast, onion & spinach with an egg. And a cheese with cranberries. Pretty good.

But at lunch time, I cooked cheeseburger and fries for DH thinking he'd eat his absolute favorite (because he's not eating much. ) But he only ate a couple of bites of that so with the same logic where I try to breath for him I decided to eat for him and yep, I ate it even though I'd already eaten a hamburger (without the bun & fries). Dinner, I tried to pull it back together a bit and had a little raisin bran but then decided to have a small slice of cake, an apple and now the chai latte. It's emotional eating. I know that. And I find myself thinking 'okay, EWYL, where's this mantra? I know the one that goes 'when I'm sad, I'll remember I am loved' but .. what's the answer for 'when my husband is dying.. I will... what??' Is that under the category of sad? or Lonely? Or is it both? I know eating isn't the answer but I feel empty and sad and lonely and afraid.

So here I am, writing, journaling, expressing, venting, rationalizing, praying, begging, all of it, just feeling my feelings instead of stuffing them down with peanut butter. I had a bottle of water and the binge is averted for now.

I do apologize again. I feel like I've played the 'sick, dying husband' card in so many of my journals it's become old hat. I tell myself this isn't unexpected nor is it a reason to not take care of myself as I walk through this chapter of our marriage with him. In the 'dark humor' that often plays out in my head, I had to smile at the bittersweet realization that I was dreading the 'toddler phase' of my weight loss coinciding with all the holiday food temptations. If only it were that simple. That now seems like a piece of cake. No, I don't want cake. I want a nice bottle of water and a hot shower right now.

And we live to face another day I suppose. I feel a little better for now - at least, with 'all things food'. Thank you for stopping by.

Bells