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26 August 2014
Such nice things you all commented on my anniversary journal yesterday. Thank you. I am truly blessed. I have wonderful, supportive, encouraging friends. What more could a gal want? Well............ nah, I'm good.
Homemade chili for dinner last night; a cup of it today for lunch. There, that's the All Things Food part of my journal. The rest is life because I consider Fat Secret my 'FaceBook' too.
So this is a vent; make some popcorn if you're bored and want to continue reading.
My youngest grandson's birthday's on Monday so we'll be recognizing it while up at the cabin this weekend. My gift to him is paying for his driver's education. Geezy peezy. I'm so glad I only have the two grandkids. I don't know about the state's y'all live in but here in Texas it's $400. Crazy.
But instead of just giving him a receipt in a birthday card I got pinterest inspired and decided to put it in a photo album with some photo's of him throughout the years and some $1 bills and little cute inspirational things. So I dashed off to get the driver's ed certificate and go to the dollar store early this morning before opening the shop while I was still inspired. Or high on caffiene. Or both.
BTW ~ for those of you who always suggest my intermittent sleep may be due to the bedtime coffee, please know it (isn't). I've skipped it for weeks at a time; no coffee or any other caffiene after 8am; no stimulating TV, nothing... and still have the insomnia. It's been lifelong. And now I'm going through the wonderful phase of menopause. But thank you for caring and your suggestions. Now, please stop bashing my coffee, LOL.
Anyway, I went to the dollar store for the album and stickers blah blah to make his little presentation. We also wrap all of our presents redneck style meaning wrapping in the wrapping in the wrapping and each package secured with everything from masking tape to wire to duct tape. Well, they never used wire. I decided Nana would step it up a bit.
He's lucky they don't sell barbed wire the dollar store or that I'm not technical enough to use electric fencing.
Anyway, there were two ladies in front of me at the checkout line each with the full shopping baskets on wheels, mounded up with items. It was obvious they were making bags of something for someone or just hoarders because they had 25 of each different item; probably about 400 different things.
I stood there behind them with six, count 'em, SIX things in my HANDS. Now, *I* always insist the person behind me with fewer items go first. I just do. I'm just that freaking nice, damnit. LOL.
They actually looked AT me... then turned back and started loading up the register. Seriously. On PURPOSE. No other register's open. I told myself to behave, stand still, and take that moment as a sign of something. The universe wanted me to wait in line for a reason. Breathe.
About halfway through their checkout one of the women actually looked at me and said 'I bet you wished we'd let you go in front of us, huh...' and I thought 'what, are you now concerned with how you look? Trying to ease your conscience now? Is this the part where I say 'no, no worries.. I'm in no hurry?'
Sorry. No. Not today lady.
I answered, 'Yep'.
Because, let's face it, all opportunities to be polite ended when she purposely began unloading those carts AFTER looking at me with my pitiful six hand held items.
Her response? A total FREEZING GLARE and you could see icecicles drip from her mouth when she defended her actions saying, "We're doing this for the HOMELESS."
Again, my mind goes into overdrive as I bite my lips to just nod but I forgot to breathe and said, 'Well, that makes sense... who else would want 35 cans of vienna sausages?'
Another haughty 'well!' and if looks could kill.. well, I'd not be journaling this now.
She's lucky... I wanted to say 'oh, really... what are the freaking homeless going to do with FREEZER pops? Do you really think they need all those pocket kleenex? So lemme get this straight... you think the homeless need koolaid?'
She's also lucky she didn't get my opinion on a person that can be kind to a multitude of strangers but not nice to one standing less than 3 feet away. That EVERYone deserves politeness, not just those in a compromised position. And so on...other such ranting type stupid things but I guess the cashier finally signaled for backup because they finally opened the other register.
Generally, I'm nice. Normally, I'll let the other person get away with the self effacing weak excuse. Just not today.
Man, first I'm ordering lunch.. alone.. and next thing you know I'm not taking crap from older ladies at the dollar store. Y'all may need to start taking up a collection for me in case one of you has to bail me out of jail for being 'disorderly'.
Bella the Bruiser
Make Peace with Myself
25 August 2014
One of those thousand word pictures deserving of it's own journal:
However, I had my 'real' journal ready to post but there's a timing issue so it doesn't GET it's own journal. So here's the rest :-)
Today, August 25th, marks the two year anniversary of my current ‘journey’, diet, health change, whatever you want to label it. So many changes in that time physically, mentally and emotionally. So much more ‘work’ done this trip than in the past. I haven’t lost as much weight in two years as I have in the past but as the Kellogg slogan goes I’ve gained quite a bit. And that makes me proud. Some of it may just be wisdom accompanying age but not all.
I truly know that had I not found FatSecret in October that same year I’d likely have kept doing the same thing I always did; disordered eating. I’m not anywhere NEAR perfect now, I know. I’m not recording this journal from a high horse.
I’m just recognizing the day and loving myself for the things I have achieved. Additionally, I thank each and every one of you for all of your love and support. You’ve taught me so very much.
My weekend was pretty nice. Friday afternoon ended on a high note with a really good sale in the shop. I went to an art class at the library with Grace on Saturday then lunch at Applebees. Some thrift store shopping until the triple digit temperatures took their toll. We finally got my dresser moved over here yesterday so that’s done and I managed to put the older one into my shop for inventory saving money there and really making that wall look nicer. Things are still going well.
All Things Food I feel are not going so well - I felt like I over ate yesterday. I’d made a large pot of chicken and dumplings and throughout the day ate the whole pot but in reality it was like six cups. I guess because I never ‘felt my hunger’ and was just eating because I liked the hot broth I feel like I messed up.
Calorically I was probably fine; I have decided to stop recording food again because I got back in that trap where seeing the number was turning on the ‘you can eat more food’ switch. Physically I’ve been active but my right foot, leg, hip are aching. Probably all the standing, bending and lifting this weekend.
This weekend is the lake cabin thing with Blondie’s crew. I’m kind of excited. I hope it goes well and everyone is safe. I’ve sent her about 300 different S’mores recipes … including one with vodka.
That’s about it. Some ‘picture worth a thousand words’ follow. Thank you for stopping to visit with me.
Make Peace with Myself
22 August 2014
Ever have one of those days you just want to go to bed but not because it's been bad but rather because it's been so good? I've had that; the most amazing almost 24 hours and I just want to curl up, close my eyes, and see what the dreams would yield.
Let me add a disclaimer right now - I'm a little in the bag. ONE glass of wine at lunch but it was a 'big' glass. To borrow from one of my idols Stritcht, I think they bought my glass in the vase section.
Regardless, the highlights include:
1) discovering THE best milk/creme combo for my bedtime coffee froth
2) having the universe answer a question
3) standing up for myself in a way that didn't require stamping my foot
4) all reinforcing my 'time to change your reflection on things' policy I implemented this morning.
The third is the one that has me smiling and so fulla myself right now (that and the pinot) that I feel really good so I'll start with it. I'd agreed to meet Charlotte for lunch; when she was 10 minutes late without a call or explanation, I .............. ordered. Lunch. Yep. I sat there like a grownup with the recognition I'd already closed my shop for an hour and I had waited for lunch and by golly I'd just eat the lunch and have a glass of wine and enjoy myself and if OR when she showed I'd be grateful she showed but not be childish about it.
I know, this is what NORMAL people DO. I'm far from normal...as anyone who's known me a while or read my journals. The former 'me' would have slapped a tip on the table for the 'water' and walked out. Cursed all the way home. Ignored her phone calls if or when she called. And been a total Witch. OR sat there, sulked, and placed MY needs second to her finally showing up.
But as I am trying to change, part of #4 above.. I decided to handle it and take care of myself. She did show 10 minutes later with an apology (20 mins late). I didn't say anything right then. I held my lecture that included 'although my 30 things to do (I mentioned this in a past journal but don't refer to it every day) included expanding my circle of friends. you're already in the circle but about to find yourself on the outside of that circle because I already have ONE good friend I tolerate being late and do not have room for another.'
Instead I said, "no worries. I apologize I couldn't wait (to order) but I have a sign on my door that I'll be back at 1:00 and need to stick to that in case someone's waiting for me'.
Charlotte is my yoga instructor. I'd been thinking about returning to yoga this week but not so much in a group setting. Yes, this defeats my friendship circle expanding but there was a hesitation there and I am trying to listen to the universe when it pauses.
When she texted me this morning asking if I had left any blankets there I thought 1) the universe is telling me .. yes, yoga still awaits (referring to the second on the list) but 2) maybe not her because if she paid any attention to you at all, Bells, she'd recall you'd asked her several times to order blankets for you .. in fact.. offered to give her cash up front to do it. So obviously you don't count for crap with her to remember you .. and 3) it's yoga, not marriage, get over your crap already.... call her back. So we agreed to meet for lunch.
I guess being able to TRULY rise above it all rather than just deflecting as if I didn't care.. that's my feeling of victory. I took care of myself by ordering lunch and didn't let her lateness spoil my day. As we talked above things that were literally leaving skid marks on my frontal lobe and would take a whole other journal to detail big stuff.. and I'm not a woman easily shocked by things... I knew there was a reason I was there. For the text. The call. The lunch. The patience.
As we talked the conversation did come around to traits and life experiences we share, including being OCD and on time and she responded she was like me and fully expected an empty booth when she arrived. How interesting. So I was able to explain to her my 'feeling' on the situation without blaming and criticizing. But I truly, truly feel the fact that I ordered anyway .. and got up when my allotted time was over and said 'now you relax, finish your wine, and have a nice afternoon' was probably one of the most mature things I've ever done.
I know.. right? Death of a husband. The Blondie Chronicles. The... well, all the stuff. Years and years of things I've survived and here I am bragging, 'I ordered lunch! I ordered lunch!' Makes no sense. I need a ghost writer.
In no particular order ( why start now? ) this refers to the 'change how you reflect on things' thought I had this morning. I walked into the bathroom and did my usual 'raising of the Tshirt and glaring at my profile particularly my saggy stomach so that I start the day off feeling badly about myself' moment and then stopped.
Much like wanting to take the weed whacker to the garden the other day, I wanted to take a sledge hammer to the bathroom mirror. I've always hated that mirror. It's so ... yesterday. It's a 4ft high by 8ft wide WALL mirror. With dual vanity lights over a double sink vanity. Nothing but mirror and bad lighting. Avoiding it I would need to cover it like I'm sitting shiva for my youth or replace it. Seriously considering replacing it with something more decorative and attractive. Time to start a refurbish budget.
But regardless, I came to the realization that after walking this earth half a century with some really bad food abuse nothing, even 24 / 7 crunches and exercise, is going to remove that extra saggy flesh short of surgery. And I'm not doing that. If I were a child in Africa I'd be on the cover of 'feed the children' but I'm standing there resenting my body reflecting a lifetime of not being hungry or without. Time to stop.
STOP IT NOW.
And I also recognized something else~ like a twofer! I DIDN'T start this 'journey' yet again on 8/25/12 because one day I walked past that mirror and didn't like the reflection. NOR was I beating myself up that the 'pants' I wore LAST year were still fitting (even though they were a 3x).
I started this ... again... because of health. Lab results that CANNOT be measured in a mirror. I had been stepping on that scale every three to six months since 2008 and weighing within 1-2 lbs of the previous weigh in; sometimes up, sometimes down. MAINTENANCE. Sure.. maintenance at 285lbs... but not GAINING. And THAT wasn't why I decided to try this again either.
NOPE. It was the thought of being put on metformin for diabetes and laying in the floor with my body cramping in reaction to the cholesterol medications.
BUT.. that isn't measurable with the human eye. Sure, in a way it is. If you've been around, been my buddy, reading my journals for a while, you may remember that on 8/12/12 or so was when Cutty's vascular surgeon commented on my appearance... having watched me balloon up another 130lbs since he performed the first surgery on him ... and said my 'red face' concerned him. Yes, that was 'visible'.
AND, whenever I've been morbidly obese (speaking from the experience of having been there 5 times so far) well, doing little things to change my health leads to a very visible change: weight loss. Simple not disordered eating too much. Drinking water instead of soda. Cutting the processed food. Yep, whenever I'm near 300lbs.. it's been easy peasy to drop 100lbs in six months or less.
And I'm a freaking 'wonder woman' to those on the ouside.
BUT ... despite the lab reports improving... my doc not giving me that worried 'I'm so freaking fed up with my patients ignoring my advice' look... despite being able to move more, breath better, feel a little better... what gets the headlines?
The Weight Loss. Big Bold HARD to IGNORE Headlines. "My God You Look Fantastic' headlines. No one wants to see my latest cholesterol rating. No one cares about my fasting blood glucose. It's all about that SCALE number.
And that's great, yeah, I'll admit it. But sooner or later... VANITY and EGO kick in and I start believing MY OWN PRESS.
I'm thinking my only value is to continue losing weight. That's why I REFUSED to tell ANYone in real life 'how much'. I didn't want every conversation to be 'how much now' and feel like a failure because I hadn't lost more weight since they last asked.
But still ... like local news leaked to a sequestered jury .. I'm hearing it. My ego is hearing it. I'm processing it. And before you know it.. I start every day staring at my stomach. Now I'm the Empress who has no Clothes and needed my inner village idiot to kick in and tell me the truth.
The stomach I've ALWAYS HAD for EVER. No matter how much I lost on past trips around this MayPole... I still have my Grandmother's Buddha Belly. So WHY now??? WHY am I focusing and wanting a FLAT stomach??
It stopped. This morning. I am not going to smash the mirror - I'll see about trading it for something less glaring. Or I may practice visiting it daily and being kinder to myself. I'm not sure. But the 'belly shaming' stops. Today.
AND ... finale... if you're a good old fashioned 'I just love a little coffee with my foam at night' kinda gal like me... I realized I was out of milk. Or forgot I was out of milk. I'm not sure which came first but it was almost bedtime and I had NO MILK.
I'll skip the rationalization this was the universe telling me to give up dairy. It just isn't the same. I tried that. I like the warm, froth milk in my coffee at night. It helps me relax to go to sleep. STAYING that way, that's a whole other situation. Getting there is half the trip.
So now what? Dress? Call the grandson with the newly inked driver's license just itching for a reason to go anywhere?
Instead, I improvised and made some instant milk to thin out some sweetened condensed milk and ... wowza. That stuff FROTHS like no one's business!!! And STAYS frothed. I even showered and ... still frothed. I'm a changed woman. Wonderful. I would say the ratio may be 1 cup instant to one tablespoon condensed. I only froth about 1/4 a cup total. Four stars. Five with the Bailey's I added. (and now we know why I go to sleep)
So ... yeah, a long rambling journal on a good day. Thank you for sticking with me throughout this one.
Make Peace with Myself
21 August 2014
See.. told you I'd be back... saw this and just had to share.
Make Peace with Myself
20 August 2014
I'm wondering how much of my life would have been different if 'fear' and 'guilt' had been on the list of Seven Deadly Sins or Ten Commandments. This morning I had the urge to act on impulse but stopped out of 'fear' of 'feeling guilty' later. Sure, social mores are necessary; they are what stop us from driving head on into traffic or smacking people in public. But what exactly would I do or have done if I wasn't always concerned with 'regretting it later'.
As this is Fat Secret I'll go ahead and do the 'reveal now' of the point where this connects to All Things Food. How many times do I consider eating 'this' or binge eating 'that' but refrain because of 'fear' at losing control followed by guilt. Guilt of letting myself down. Failing again. Guilt & fear. Fear & Guilt. And vice versa how many times have I stuffed my emotions with food to refrain from saying the thing I want to say or avoid feeling the thing I don't want to feel? When will the 'do the right thing because it's the right thing to do' replace those emotions?
Taking me on this path of reflection was an overwhelming urge this morning to take the weed-whacker to my entire yard. Yes, my beautiful back yard of plants and flowers. I just wanted to obliterate it to nothing more than dirt. Something akin to the rose garden scene in Mommy Dearest.
As I've mentioned lightly but then glossed over with pages of amusing graphics in my recent journals, I am struggling with grief. Big time struggling.
This morning I was thinking 'he was right' when Cutty advised me to sell everything and move away after he passed. I would joke 'you know me, I never walk away from equity' and I know better than to make any serious decisions like that right now but lately... the memories are getting to me. The reminders. This corner, that drawer, this wall, that chair.
I'm doing my best to not 'eat' my emotions or fill that emptiness with Ice Cream but for every action there is a reaction and as I stared at the yard this morning I wanted to rip it apart.
Guilt. I started the yard for Cutty ~ at a time he could not do it himself. He loved the flowers and view from the window. Me? Not so much. I mean, I liked flowers but I was more of a 'fresh cut' kind of gal who didn't really like getting dirt under her nails. The patio was for sipping coffee beneath a shady umbrella. Getting down on my hands and knees and digging in the dirt? Thank you, no. It'll wreck my manicure.
See, our yard.. oops, there I go .. I still say 'we, us, our' ... THE yard is ... a facade. My home is in the city. The yard is 99% run off dirt from rooftops on top of no longer traveled city sidewalks. Truly, you dig six inches down and you'll hit cement and bricks. I've also found some interesting old artifacts.
Cutty wanted me to grow lawn. I did. Over the past two years I'd haul in a few bags of soil at a time and built a lawn on cement. Last summer he asked if I thought I could grow grass around the air conditioner. Challenge accepted.
But He never saw it. His health worsened as the seeds took root. I stare at that lawn and fight... anger, resentment, emotions, all reactions that lead to me wanting to just hack it all away.
I also recognize how I converted that 'mission' of making him a beautiful view into my own refuge. I'd run outside to escape him and his ever increasing angry rant at death. My morning time outside grew longer as I increased the volume of gardening to be maintained. My 'chicken and the egg' kept me out almost all day on Sunday. Rather than admitting 'anything besides inside being yelled at'.
This was the emotion behind imagining the destruction this morning. Guilt. Over letting this yard rob me of spending time with him. Perhaps it gave me the sanity to return inside and stay with him, keep him here with me at home, through to the end. I am great at seeing both sides of a coin as I toss it in the air to decide my fate.
I'm really not sure of the point behind any of this beyond it's my journal and these are thoughts and emotions swirling around me lately. This is what's going on behind the silly photos and jokes - deflection - a way of making myself smile and laugh and hoping to share that with my friends rather than 'this'.
A Dear Kind friend here reminded me yesterday in a PM that my grieving is still recognizable and acceptable.
Even then I felt like a facade. My Dear Kind friend stated they were amazed how well I've been doing in the diet department with what I've been through ~ I feel like I'm failing. I'm 10-15lbs 'heavier' than I was a year ago and I'm fearing I've lost it and am guilty that I've regained weight.
I'm hitting the two year mark in less than a week. August 25th ... the terrible twos set in. The period for me that has always been the most challenging. Generally I lose my mojo at 18 months ... and by 24mo's I'm like 'forget it.. bring on the M&M's'.
I want to get this one right because it's the right thing to do; not because of fear of regaining or guilt over having people look at me ONE more TIME and ask 'what happened... you were doing so well'. I want to take a weed whacker to my whole WOE and just redo it for the right reasons. I want that PEACE with myself I've been seeking ever since setting my 'diet' to that header.
I want ... to improve. I didn't whack down the yard. I know winter will take care of that soon enough. I am just going to breathe, eat wisely because it's the right thing to do, and let the season's take care of me.
If you read all this, bless you.
lost so far:
still to go:
Diet followed reasonably well
Make Peace with Myself
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