A GREAT BIG SIGH

Well, here I am again. Feeling defeated and discouraged and, well, really just a big "Oh Well did you really expect anything different in the long run?" But that is just the surface, underneath there is a part of me that 'knows' what to do and that this just means there is work to be done. Work I am too lazy to do? Work I feel shouldn't have to be done so it just makes me mad to think about what I should be doing? I mean really, why should it take so much work to just feel at peace? Because peace is not why we are here? Which brings me back to my childhood, and swinging on the front gate while I wonder why I have to be here again. Wondering why I can't just go back.

It's the same old question humanity has asked forever, why are we here? Except I knew in that moment of childhood clarity there was a somewhere I came from, someplace that was better, a place that I liked, and where I belonged. At a young age - 6? 7? 8? - I knew I didn't want to be here on earth and 'going through this again.' That feeling has followed me through life as I struggled to get through everyday things, and mostly doing a bad job of it.

I blamed myself for being lazy when I didn't live up to my own expectations, when I didn't have a career path to follow, when I didn't excel at the ordinary business of growing up.

While I try to believe I have forgiven myself for how my life has unfolded, mostly I know I failed and that is  probably the underlying reason for why I am back here in a place of regret and sadness with tears streaming down my face as I type. Sitting in my Mother's dining room, surrounded by beautiful things, I am a fish out of water. Voluminous soft black sweater keeping me warm, laptop humming away, I am anomaly in this space dedicated to delicate glassware, orchids, and ceramic creatures. A sort of analogy for my whole life.

And I see that the pity party has begun so another great big sigh leaves my body and I hitch up my big girl panties to once again start over. Because I am not certain I have fulfilled any purpose yet in this life, and just noticing the glimmering of a chance that there may be something I need to do before I can go back pulls my mind out of the gutter and makes me want to keep trying; the fucking Pollyanna game is once again afoot and I must sit here and be grateful for what brings joy to my life.

Okay, so maybe I'm drawing a blank on that at the moment with the huge exception of my grandkids. Every hug, every conversation, reminds me that love is everything, and that everything I have been has brought me to this place with them.  Maybe that is why depression is trying to sneak in - because I am planning to leave them and move South in September to be here full time for a while with Mom. It might be for the rest of her life, or maybe just a few months to spend a holiday season with her; she is 90 and I do feel we are running out of time. Time to connect, to get to know each other. But I don't anticipate that happening as we are both so set in our ways. I am hoping time together will ease us into some semblance of acceptance, but at the  moment all I can see is work. AFGO indeed.

So what started this early morning rant down pity lane? As usual it is my weight. I have not been Bright more than a day at a time lately, and since I was here on a visit last month I have gained 9 pounds. Amazing what the body can do!

But at least stepping on the scale made it clear that it is time to clear the decks, start fresh, and take care of myself. This being typed while there is cream in my mug of tea so of course I have already failed as it is not a Bright morning. My bad for not stopping to pick up oat milk, and for planning to use cream in the scalloped potatoes at Easter dinner. so there it was waiting for me in the fridge this morning.

As previously stated, I know what to do, I'm just lazy. Or at least there is a very strong part of me that uses that as an excuse, and that is the part I need to get to know, and THERE IT IS AGAIN; why all the work? Maybe there is an even bigger rebel part that I still need to work on first. And that is my trailhead for the parts work; why does having to do the work piss me off so much? If we are spiritual beings living a human experience to feel/grow/enrich our souls then why is such a strong part of me so resistant?

Another great big sigh.

I haven't journaled in a while, because I was writing so much crap as evidenced by the above jumble. But I need to start again, it being part of the work I am so resistant to doing. And I guess I should start by being grateful. For this quiet morning to reflect, for the hot mug of tea, for the ability to work remotely so I can be here.

One of the things Mom and I need to work on is how we will manage our meals. I have been eating at 8, 11 and 4 for years now, while she eats closer to 10, 2, and whenever. But we can do that in September,  for now I just need to navigate through the weekend. Forget that, I just need to plan a bright breakfast! I may have to run to the store a little earlier than anticipated this morning.

Funny how quickly I can go from 'why am I here' to grocery shopping, which I suppose is the magic of journaling.

I have a Bright Line Eating quote on a sticky, something I felt important as it lives just below the keypad of my laptop. "Choose what you want and pay for it; now in work or later in consequences."  This morning I saw the consequences of breaking my lines and lying to myself about how often I was doing it. And here we are, back to the WORK. A full circle moment. But at least now I am calm.

Goodbye Harry

 I found out this morning that an ex-partner of fifteen years had passed from Covid last week.  I haven't seen or spoken to him in years, he had disappeared out of my life without a word after a bittersweet parting one  morning. We had been out drinking the night before, and I had spent the night.  I can still recall exactly how we were standing in front of his house, looking at each other as I began to cry, "It doesn't work when we are together and it's not working being apart. I don't know what to do." "We'll figure it out", he says, giving me what I thought was a heartfelt hug. For years I couldn't decide if I never heard from him again out of compassion for me so I could move on in my life without him, or because he was just tired of us. I'll never know, so I choose to believe the former explanation; we must not speak ill of the dead.

He died on the 10th, and it's interesting to look back on my journal entry from the 11th. At some level, did I feel his leaving?

Do I believe at some level we are all connected and his death had impacted my mood that day? That there are no coincidences? I just don't know, not really, but a part of me likes to think that I knew and was grieving. Another part cries Bullshit! and moves on. She is a little manners challenged, that one, but I love her anyway.

Harry gave me archery, and I cherish most of my memories hiking through National Forests with him at competitions. He had become rather cranky in the latter years of our relationship; about not shooting well, about other archers, about the weather. He never could open up to me and tell me what was really going on, and eventually I guess we broke under the combined pressure of our independent moods. I know I changed after Joey died, just as I have changed again now, caring for my grandson. That's what life is after all, one change after another. 

I hope this change is one for the better for him, that his next journey brings him the peace he couldn't find in this one. Well, at least not the last few years he was with me. Reading his obituary at first I wondered who this man was they were writing about. But then I pieced it out and found the man I knew and loved.  Smart, loving to learn, playing music, being outdoors. It was just set in unfamiliar surroundings and with strangers. Maybe he found something good with them; one can hope.

I'm glad that he found someone, a family he could be with, and I truly hope he found some happiness. Do I wish he had taken better care of himself? Yes. Do I wish I hadn't heard the news? Yes. Do I wish he had kept in touch with his daughter and grandchildren instead of disappearing? Absolutely.  But everyone has a story, and not really knowing his, once again I choose to give him some slack.

It was strange, tracking down online where he lived, seeing his blue truck parked out front of the house, and knowing that's where he has been living. Florida of all places. Another Republican dead to Covid, and my Tough Chick part says, "good riddance!" God I can be mean and unfeeling, but at least I usually keep her contained.

I was telling R earlier that I hadn't realized that there was still a part of me that was expecting him to come back, so we could be the old fogies together out shooting at archery competitions. What do I do with that? Am I never going to shoot again? Am I going to ever be healthy enough and strong enough to go hike and shoot? And by myself? The grief wells up and I let the tears come as I mourn my friend, my lover, my past. All for selfish reasons I guess, but for what he lost too, because we could have had fun I think.

When we first kissed there was an electric spark that passed between our lips. Maybe it was a windy day, maybe it was kismet, but it changed my life for the next fifteen years. Now I can put that chapter of my life to bed, and just remember the best times, and let the rest go. Rest in peace,  you grumpy old man.

Analyzing the Anger

Yesterday was moodiness, and today came the anger. Anger at myself for waking up late and not packing lunch, at the world because I couldn't drive through JITB for a sourdough burger. I mean it really pissed me off - and it wasn't that I couldn't have the fast food, but that I had to say no at all. I mean really, how fair is that? This must be part of the grieving process Susan was talking about, and having to say goodbye to things that are not good for me. And earlier in the day I was mad at having to wear reading glasses; they were in the purse I had left at home this morning and I misread the directions on the frozen cauliflower I picked up at sprouts to have with my soup Bottom line I couldn't cook what I had purchased to have with my soup at lunch and I was mad. Again. Just angry on and off all day. So silly to waste my energy but there it was.

I don't often feel like I am 'dieting' on Bright Line Eating. But today it seemed like the dieting mentality was slapping me upside the face at every turn. And of course the reality is that even-going well planned days don't rock the boat. So on those days I don't notice I am trying to lose weight, and the time just flows by. But anger is a hot emotion, and stands out from the other days to let you know something is wrong. And I don't want anything to be wrong. I want my days peaceful and productive.

--------------Family Movie Break: Jumanji II----------------

(b)  breakfast sausage, triscuits, banana
(l)  Italian wedding ball soup, orange segments & blackberries
(d) Pork steak, roasted winter veggies, green salad w\ lots of carrots & snap peas

My anger from the day has dissipated, the movie having made me laugh while cuddling with my precious granddaughter, and I have tea brewing to help me wind down from the day. Once I finish up here I'll work a Sudoku puzzle and then call it a day once my tea is gone. I guess I really am a creature of habit, and keeping things simple also keeps me calm. I am not good with drama, and need to spend this week tying up the loose ends I find laying about.

I'm glad there are leftovers to cover lunch and dinner tomorrow.  I was in such a groove of cooking and prepping meals I'm not sure why it sort of fell apart, but I feel that losing that sense of security has been part of my struggle the past few days. Or really since returning home from my visit south. I sort of lost my rhythm and the blues snuck in. See what I did there? Ha.

Enough already, time to call it.

Sadness, and a slight case of snacking

This evening my daughter's MIL passed. It was sudden, and while unexpected, still not a surprise. I have mixed feelings of sadness and relief; she had dementia and diabetes and we couldn't afford the full time care that she needed. Not that she wanted that, the cantankerous old bird (may she rest in peace). I loved her stories, and had gotten to know her a little better the past couple of years since she moved to town to be close to her son. Or rather, since we moved her to town to be taken care of more easily.

I came home from work early to stay with the kidlings while their parents were at hospital, and eventually snacked my way through what was to be my dinner. Stress eating, that's me. I bent my bright line against flour, having some organic ground corn chips - the healthier version of a frito if there is such a thing. Less salt and oil and non-GMO corn. While I wasn't crazy about them, C was and had a few cup fulls while watching his Bubble Guppies who have taken his attention away from Paw Patrol. A nice change.  I'm glad he has something he can disappear into while going through treatment. A and I on the other hand, watched Coco, which we really like.

(b)  vermont cheddar cheese, triscuits, banana
(l)  lasagna, banana
(s)  2nd cuppa decaf coffee with my oat\coconut blend creamer
(d)  4oz beef jerkey, 2oz corn chips, sip of amaretto

So of course now it's bed time and I'm hungrier than usual since I didn't have my salad or cooked veggies at dinner. I am tempted to have a bowl of broccoli salad, but I've made enough exceptions today.

I hold a picture of M's mother in my head, and know I will miss her sense of humour, and how she would kiss me goodbye after dropping off groceries or getting back from an errand. While she rarely said thank you, I knew she appreciated my efforts, and enjoyed my company too.  I don't really have any close friends right now, having isolated myself pretty completely over the past dozen years, and the tears I cry now are tribute to the friendship we had fashioned. Not knowing how to reference each other at introductions, we would just say, "our children are married!"

She was so young, in her 70's, just eight years older than I am. And as R pointed out, a reminder that we need to take care of ourselves. I'm glad I've already started, that I have a few months under my belt.

God I'm tired all of a sudden, and my pillow calls.

Lab Work and Ham Soup

Another long day. But tonight I made the lentil soup I had planned and there are four bowls ready to go in the fridge with ham and another two just lentils, bok choy & parsnips. I did take a tiny taste; no sense in storing bad soup. It's not bad. I cooked the veggies with the ham stock then pureed them. Then I added the lentils to cook. Finally I weighed 3oz of ham into each bowl and covered it with the soup.

I waited to eat breakfast at work today because I stopped on the way to have blood work done. It's time for my annual tests and I wanted a baseline before the Bright Line boot camp too. Some of the tests are in and everything is in the normal range. My cholesterol is on a downward slope, within the normal range now too, but the real story is my triglycerides.

If I had the patience I would correlate the graph with my entries to see what I was eating at the time, but really, all I care about is that my chances of stroke have been cut in half. I can hardly wait to test again at the end of boot camp.

(b)  sausage, triscuits, banana

(l)  meatballs, green beans, apple

(d)  beef jerkey, lettuce & carrot salad, potatoes

Another get home hungry night. There were baked fries on a cookie sheet and home made tartar sauce on the kitchen counter and they were finished with dinner. I weighed out the potatoes and called the tartar sauce the fat and called it a day.  Not on plan, but no sugar or flour. I'm going to have to step up my game to get through tax season, which is why I took the time to make soup tonight.

I'm looking forward to my first coaching call tomorrow - a great way to spend lunch at work! I'm trying to not think about work tonight - I have a hiccup in my team and don't want to bring the stress home with me. But I care about them all, and need a plan to get everyone back on track - the extra workload right now has us all a little frazzled I think. We'll work it out, I trust in that, and that's a beginning.

I am so tired, and ready for bed. I just need to sign off, make my paper journal entries, and call it a day. 

Bright Line Eating; week 11 in review

Writing helps me think. Years ago when I began this blog it was because I felt disconnected. While I wasn't alone in my grief,  it was almost impossible to share how devastated I was over Joey's death. Feelings are everything, so why it is so hard to share them openly and honestly is the great human mystery. So I turned to writing, and did it here to tap into the energy of the world. We all run on the same elemental properties, and my religion is believing that we are all connected through the creation of our universe. That is how prayer works, how communing with nature works, and how we can both center and ground ourselves in this big wide world.

So today I turn here again to write out my feelings, and find some solace through the act of sharing. As with most things it's best to start at the beginning, and this rainy morning that is creeping through the backyard in my slippers to weigh myself in the cold garage. Lights on, sweater off, on the scale, and I'm up half a pound. Grrr...  My brain says, it's okay - fluctuations are expected, there are a million reasons why this is natural. But my heart is pissed. Determined to not derail my progress I brush it off and start the day. Coffee, dishes, grocery list, and off to the store.

The store, where I see a little boy helping his dad carry a basket and my heart breaks all over again. I make it to the car before the crying starts, and on the drive home pull myself together because I cannot walk into the house with red eyes.

Back home I have sausages, celery, onions, spaghetti sauce in the instant pot. Peppers, onions & mushrooms are in the oven. And then everyone but R is off to Church where the children want to give C a present. R and I are alone and I lose it. I love my daughter so much, and forget sometimes that she too hurts, that she too misses not only Joey but her father who passed the year she was married. I lean into her strength; we talk, we cry, we look to the future, and I am on my way to being better.

Whew, so few words to express all of the crazy emotions of the morning. And so much to do. So quickly back to BLE. Overall it was a good week, Bright Lines stayed mostly intact. Last night I sampled some Christmas cookies - more about that later-but feeling stronger and trimmer all the time despite what the scale reported. I'm still glad i'm on this journey to heal my brain, still grateful to be on track to help fulfill Susan B. Thompson's mission to have a million people regain a right sized body and live in it Happy, Thin and Free.

A Pool Day

I spent the morning puttering, then relaxed with Mom per directions of my darling niece K. She had arranged a family pool party and everyone was expected around noon. How fun to see the littlest cousins, the children of my nephew R, niece K, and A in the mix as they frolicked together in the pool. The competitions included the largest splash, the best belly flop, and the cleanest entry. A almost won the last, just edged out by C who was the star of the pool this sunny awesome day.

There was a moment that caught me by surprise, the cousins all lining up on the tall back wall of the pool for a photo op, mimicking the one 21 years ago of their parents at the same place. It was wonderful, and then R used an app on her phone to add the previous picture, and while admiring it and comparing the likeness of the faces, grief crept up and attacked me without warning. One moment I was smiling at Joey in the picture and the next I just lost it. I turned to sneak away but was thwarted and held by loving arms until my sobs ebbed. Some cold water to my face, a small amount of quiet alone time, and I was back at the party, maybe a little subdued, but glad to be there watching all the kidlings.

Lunch was a buffet of fruit, sandwiches, chips and salads. Then a surprise bottle of wine from R&M's wedding venue (Rios Lovell) from some twelve or so years ago, and while a little fruity, it was also complex and lovely to swirl and contemplate the flavours.

The younger generation went out to dinner together, and Mom and I stayed home to finish up leftovers from the Mexican dinner the evening before. Washing platters and making several trips to the recycling bin during the commercial breaks of 'Evan Almighty' put the house to rights, and the kids showed up with chocolate ice cream for our dessert. I ate every last drop of my half of the pint - so decadent!

I think everyone had a wonderful day; I know I did.

Super Blue (belewe) Moon

Tonight's moon is 'blue' and huge and gorgeous and the man in the moon is intent as he watches over us; weird to have loved him my whole life while still thinking of the moon as feminine from my studies in the Humanities. I suppose a man can live within the orb of a woman; happens all the time.

M called for us to come outside; I had forgotten and on his cue we all migrated out to the driveway to ooh and aww over the immensity of our satellite. The three of them walked to the end of the court with A in the lead hoping for an unobstructed view while I stayed put in front of the house enjoying how the trees framed the ascension of this glowing tangerine miracle.

And once again I am reminded that there are some things that are beautiful enough to make this whole living in human form thing worthwhile. As my eyes feasted on not just the moon but the dark shadows of my little family strolling along at the end of the court I was filled with the much sought after but elusive shade of contentment. The cool evening breeze quickly cooling off my bad mood, I lingered waiting for them to return, to hoist A once more into my arms for a better view, and then head inside with my tribe. Primal, that is what I felt for one glorious moment. Connected, worthy.

I think I must go have one more look before turning in for the night.

Oh the despair

This morning I am thinking more and more of this battle we are in; hope and worry fighting it out with anger and frustration. There are no winners, it is a lose-lose situation as the mechanics of addiction steal away our time and energy and resources. Instead of celebrating the raising of A we are drained by the everyday stress that M creates in our lives. 

This is what most upsets me today, that this precious little person in our lives is getting the short end of the stick. How can we practice patience when we are exhausted emotionally, how do we sit and play when we are scanning the house for who may have been there while we were at work, how do we leave for the pool when we are  worried about what may be missing or out of place at the house.

I once counseled R that she would know when she reached her ‘line’. That mystical place where she and A became more important than saving M. Have I reached my line? I said I would support whatever she decided, that I was here for her and wouldn't meddle. But it is harder every day, watching her pain and how she fluctuates between hope and despair.

How much more of my life am I willing to give to this madness?  I can pretend for hours at a time that whatever happens is just the way it is, but I know in my heart we do have some say in our destiny, that we were given the powers of choice and change, and that we are not exercising those options.

And of course while I say I am thinking of A this morning, really I am thinking about myself and my daughter and what needs to be done to put us in a place to take better care of A. In this situation, abundance does trickle down from the top, and if we do not have our ‘muchness’ then how can we pass any on to her.

We need some damn oxygen masks.

Orenda CleanBurnShape: 22/30 or 63/100 or 1/1

It has always seemed a paradox; how the days can fly past yet each one drag along at a snails pace. This day has lasted forever. Everything I touched at work became complicated, or a research project, or a fire to put out. It was hot hot hot on the walk to pick A up from daycare after work, and because of the heat we waited until late to go down to the pool. The water was perfect and it was almost 9:30 before we headed home. 

I walked into my bedroom to find A sitting on  my bed holding a framed picture of me holding Rhiannon and Joey in their Halloween costumes when her mother was her age now. She had the saddest little look on her face as she told me she missed her Uncle Joey. I was inspired to pull out the DVD I had made of all my old Super 8 films after he was gone so I wouldn't lose the footage; I had never played it for her and thought it would give her a better idea of who he was.

So the three of us girls gathered around the tv and we watched as Rhiannon grew from a toddler of one to a frolicsome four like A is now, and it was fun comparing the two of them and seeing so much of her mother in Alanna.  And A, bless her heart as my Grandmother used to say, says, "you were a lot younger then, Grama!" How strange to see myself young and fit, and remember how fat I felt at the time. Oh to be that size again! But I'm working on it. And Joey as a baby, then crawling and toddling around. A agreed he was very cute!

So many in the footage that are gone now besides Joey; Uncle Billy, Jim, Aunt Beth. All of a sudden it's 11pm and A is still not in bed! And the air has become stifling with the blend of air conditioning and melancholia. The rest of the disc will have to wait until tomorrow.

I think the late swimming gave us all a second wind; thank heavens tomorrow is a Holiday and we can all sleep in. Well, one can hope anyway. In the meantime I am just a little sad, and missing the sweet little children that R and J were, and how happy I was being their Mommy. Life goes on, and for now I have A, and that's a good thing, and I am grateful.

I am looking forward to getting some things done around the house tomorrow, doing some more swimming, and getting a walk in if I am up before the heat. It's a Clean day on the CBS plan, and I always look forward to those. Tomorrow will be a little different since I won't be at work, but I have plenty to keep myself busy and out of the fridge. Speaking of which I need to make an early pit stop at the store for veggies before the crazy holiday shoppers are out and about; I had better get my owahzoo to bed!

Orenda CleanBurnShape: 19/30

Today I took a second Off Day. Not on purpose, nor planned, it just sort of happened. I was up last night unable to sleep after waking up around midnight, then woke up late this morning and forgot to pack lunch. I did pack my Burn, and fruit to take in the car for my breakfast, but totally forgot to mix up a shake before heading out. I was really not wanting to be at work where there is a small problem with one of the girls, and trying to find my mojo I indulged in a cup of Decaf when someone offered to deliver it. In retrospect I think even that limited amount of extra caffeine was a mistake given my history with the drug.

Then at lunch I needed to pick up some Frontline from Costco to treat all the critters for fleas this weekend, and while there someone stole my phone! Picked it up right out of the cart where I had set it down to search through a tall pile of brightly coloured cloth for some size 6 summer PJ's for A and waiting for R to call me back. What nerve! I headed straight to Verizon around the corner and they blocked it, but then found out the insurance I pay for is only for damage, not loss or theft. Argh! They gave me a loaner, signed me up for insurance, and said don't file a claim for 30 days. Those will end up being some expensive pajamas. Because I did go back to Costco afterwards and get the PJ's, plus the flea stuff, black peppercorns and a few other items. I figured a little retail therapy would help. But when checking out I ordered ... a slice of pizza? Huh? What the ... heck? (Oh, and I had forgotten to take my midday Burn before leaving the office.)

I wolfed down the pizza on my way back to work around 2pm; irritated, hungry, ready for the day to be over I relished the fat and spice of every bite. My Bad. And I wasn't done. I had a Pink Apple lady on the way home, and then we took A swimming at the pool. Homemade bean soup for dinner once we were back home around 8 along with the last two chugs of Zin straight out of the bottle. Who is this crazy person? Last but not least I snagged the last cup of M's cocoa pebbles and dumped in some milk, which I haven't had in more years than I can remember, and finished those off.

I think I am done. This is the closest I have been to a binge in a long time. I don't even feel like it was me this afternoon - those hours are a blurry haze of emotion and confusion and just plain disconnect that belonged to someone else. Crazy. And all day long, all I wanted to do was to call H and see how his day was going. He is up in Nevada City, at one of my favorite archery ranges, and I am not with him. Double Argh! Why on earth do I want so badly to hear his voice. Splitting up was the right thing to do. It was.

I think part of the days 'relapse' was seeing the ten pounds lost. For some reason (I don't need to spend a zillion dollars to find out why, I pretty much know) every time I start to really feel thinner I sabotage myself. As if I am scared to look great, because god knows I don't want to draw unwanted attention to myself. I thought I was over that, but it's the only thing I can think of that would warrant the reaction I had today. And if you have seen the list of what I ate on my real Off Day it's obvious this all started yesterday. I think the stresses at work & then the whole phone debacle just pushed me over an emotional edge I didn't realize I had been precariously balanced on for some time now.

The good news is that tomorrow is Saturday so I can take the time I need to get both reorganized and re-acquainted with myself. So back on plan first thing - two Burn days this weekend - and stay busy and burn calories. I have great incentive to get things done around the house; a co worker is bringing her mini pinscher over Sunday afternoon to see if she (the dog) gets along with Kaylee & the Puggles. If they all seem to do well together I will be dog sitting for a week while she (the co-worker) goes to Costa Rica. I want to finish getting up the foxtails from the back yard and get some flowers planted out front before they arrive. And it will be back up into the 90's tomorrow! So I need to get out there early to work before it heats up and then back out again in the evening once it begins cooling down.

So I will forgive myself the crazy day, eat well and take my CBS products all weekend, and stay busy on my feet as much as possible. That's the plan.

Maybe if I say it one more time it will cement it in my psyche - Eat plants, use the Burn & Shape, and move move move! Three's the Charm.

Then and Now

We had some hard moments, one was finding these old pictures, and realizing the boys in their picture were both gone. 'What happened?', I asked her as we both stood weeping. 'Life happened', said my wise daughter, 'life is hard'.

But the girls on the right are finding their muchness, and we will persevere; there is a four year old to love and raise.

Feelings

I was thinking today about how if I could control my feelings I could control the stress (cancer) sores that seem to go hand in hand with my emotional spikes.  It's a complex idea for me because on the one hand I rather adhere to the belief that the only thing we have control over are our feelings, and on the other hand I sort of believe that if we don't let ourselves feel - well what would be the point?

So I think the question I am trying to ask in an awkward round about way is if there really is a better way to live than to teeter totter between intense emotions, and is it time to explore that possibility. Lately I keep running across the axim that goes something like - it's not what happens, it's how we react to it. Friends are posting it on Face Book, quoting it at work, posting on their blogs. but what does it mean exactly? How is behaving in a predictably vanilla manner any way to live? How is accepting horribly awful situations in a calm manner beneficial to anyone? I know I am over interpreting this, that no one is suggesting not to rise up against injustice or to behave like sheep on the way to slaughter, but there is a little of that in there.

I have tried to learn about meditation several times, but never seriously. I do visualization exercises when calming myself for sleep, and think of myself as an observer even in the most trying of times, trying not to lose sight of the bigger picture.

I am thinking about how maybe I should try staying calm and reeling in those intense reactions to see if it would be a better way to live. For years I've been say, 'oh well, it doesn't matter', because after losing a child it really did seem like nothing else matters. Love that song! It was my get out of jail free card for a long time. Not having to do anything, not having to feel, not having to socialize. Again I digress.

Bottom line - I'm tired. I want to try something new. I want to feel, and feel deeply, but I don't want to let those feelings rule my face, my health, and colour my perspective so dramatically. Maybe it's time to give meditation another try.

Interpretation of a dream

I was living in a small trailer type home by the beach, in a small community, and strangely enough there were many that were apparently my close knit group of friends. And I was still married to J, my first husband. (I know, H and I weren't married, but it felt -feels- like a second marriage.) Back to the dream, did I mention this is a dream and I just woke up? So we are in this trailer by the beach and he is cooking liver (yuck, never happened) and I am making macaroni & cheese (happened a lot) and he is being everything he never was towards me. Talkative, attentive, and even stopped what he was doing long enough to give me a good long hug. There was much more to the dream but the details are drifting away and I let them go without a fight, too intent on figuring out the symbolism of what I remember with clarity.

It's fairly obvious, I miss the attention. It's been a really long time since anyone focused on me. Which is why A is such a blessing, she still thinks I am the cat's pajamas. Well mostly, these past few weeks have been trying on her too; I'm so tired everytime I see her we aren't playing together like we once did. I need to set some time aside for us to do something fun together once we get past this weekend.

But back to the dream, I miss even what little contact H and I had towards the end. Reaching over to hold his hand, brushing against him while passing in the narrow hallway, feeling him next to me in bed. This is about as long as I was normally away from him while he was off on business trips, and as I fell asleep last night I was thinking that today might be the last one I spend with him for quite some time. So this morning's dream is no surprise, nor is the sadness that thickens my throat and aches my chest as tears fall down across my cheeks. Love can be a cruel mistress. 

And while posts like this make me crazy because it feels like I am back swimming in the pity pool, they help me to distill my feelings and work through them more quickly. I need to be on my best game today, and just enjoy the company of a friend instead of mourning the loss of a lover. I can do this. I will do this.

go go go stop

After a couple of weeks of go go go, tonight I just stopped. Well, after hauling the bags of electronic recycling to the curb and helping H carry the last cabinet from his old office out to his truck, then I was done.  And a little numb. I know this is a work in progress, that having the feelings and thoughts that I do at this point are natural and will work their way out of my system eventually. This is the point at which I need to remember how to calm my mind and not get caught up in the drama. This is when I need to be kind to myself and try to see the lessons instead of laying on the blame. But the tears come anyway. A million songs have been written about this particular heartache, 'breaking up is hard to do...'

He will be back Friday so we can work on the garage, I just have to hang tough a little bit longer. 

A little nostalgic

Those first few moments of relief as I slid into the hot steaming water were so wonderful,  the pain disappearing as each new part of me was embraced by the healing heat. Gone were the aches and pains of another long day. It will be a relief to go back to work tomorrow and use more brain than brawn because I have just about worn myself out.

The girls dropped by as planned this  morning and then were gracious enough to come back for dinner. I just couldn't let the holiday go by without some type of small celebration with my little family. And while I was too tired for colouring eggs, we can do that another day, and at least I have some leftovers for meals this week.

Some of my favourite holiday memories are of sitting around the big round table at my grandparents. Two half rounds of plywood hinged together would fit over the round patio table in the living room, and over that would go the white linen table cloth. It was a big to do setting the table, fixing the candy dishes, and laying out the silver. Then there would be bowls and platters of wonderful things to eat and ten or twelve of us sitting around in a big circle. Mom would have sewn new dresses for me and my sister, and there would have been lots of running around like tomboys while looking like angels. There is a part of me that regrets I am unable to give my granddaughter that same experience. I think I mostly came to terms with that years ago, but with the recent break with H I am definitely a little hypersensitive just now.

And while I would like to think that in a parallel universe somewhere events unfolded today a little closer to how I once dreamed a holiday would be like, it hurts just a little too much right now to even contemplate that and I have to let it go.

Thank heavens for my girls; how many times have I thought that lately. I have so much more than some will ever have, and I am truly grateful.

Moving on

Today was hard work, moving always is. But helping my ex-partner all day to move out - well, I should have wracked up some excellent karma points by doing so is all I can say. He did thank me at the end of the day, which was nice. But I could have done without seeing the FB post that leads me to think he has plans with another woman tomorrow. Two beers down and I can't seem to shake this feeling of ... not anger, disappointment I guess. She looks like everything I once wanted to be, or thought I was, but more so. Pretty, curvy, sexy & confident; just his type. I wish this didn't hurt. "She loved him enough to know he was better off without her."  I think it's Dickens you can thank for the quote.

And here I am without even the comfort of a couch and a movie. I can't get the tv to work in the living room, and I don't want to be in the master where the tv works - too much dust and too many memories.

I've been doing so well, and I am hoping I have enough energy left in this day to make myself believe I am still okay. That I can create each minute, that it doesn't matter what happens it only matters how I react to it. The last 20 minutes haven't been so great, and I don't want the rest of my evening to be the same so I will turn it around. I will decide that this too is going according to plan, that letting him go gives him the chance to be happy; that truly this has been my intention all along, and I will not begrudge him his fun. And I know in my heart that I will be happy again too. It has been a long time, but I know it is coming. Did he really have to use a smiley face....let it go, let it go, let it go....

I think I just need a good nights sleep. And a cuddle with my little dog. And in the morning I will see the family on their way to an Easter Egg Hunt. And maybe, just maybe, I will get organized enough to roast a ham and make some coleslaw and see them again for dinner.

I would so like for this hard part to be over.

Calm, Cool & Collected

Last night passed without fireworks or fanfare. Two tired, aching, abused bodies each  spiraling in their own orbit. Business as usual, we have always done that, and I think that all of our problems were just symptoms of that core fact. I am not trying to disparage our relationship; we had something very special together and I will always hold that close in my heart. But I needed, need, something more. Trust me, I am the first one to laugh when I see a couple all matchy matchy, like they are clones. But I am also the first one to turn green with envy when I see a couple working together with a common goal.

So today he packs up the U-Haul and away go the mattresses we shared. Also going are the washer & dryer and living room furniture. The house will feel different this evening, and I am sure I will also feel somewhat empty. But the weeks ahead will be full of cleaning, different furniture, and a new life. There will not be time to mope. And this morning I am not morose at all. Not dreading anything. Instead I remain calm, cool & collected and ready for the next chapter in my life. Lets see.

Reader (or, the great disappearing act)
Mountain Girl
Athlete
Moving to San Francisco
Swing years
Speed & Harley
Motherhood (favorite)
Divorce & Costa
Shooting with H (archery - next favorite)
Disability (next least favorite)
Losing Joey (least favorite)
The Rift

I don't know the title of this next chapter, I will have to save that task until I have a better perspective on the subject, but with a four year old involved I imagine that 'bedlam' will be in there somewhere. What I do know is that I am ready for this change, that I made the right decision, and that whatever comes I will embrace it. Because it is my life, and today I am choosing this path with hope and love and determination. And yes, when I am complaining about no privacy or hot water I will remember this feeling. 

I am on the road to recovering my muchness, and while I will miss the future I once dreamed about having with H, I will not despair over losing it. Instead we will forge something new, and I hope and pray that there will be archery in there too. A small part of me is dead inside without that. I just want us to both have happier lives, and given my series of unfortunate events and our duel propensity for depression it just wasn't happening together despite the love. I will miss him so much, but with grace, not remorse. I have read many times in different ways that people come into our lives to teach us something, to bring meaning, and while I have yet to distill the lessons, I am grateful we had the journey.

One life, many chances to choose how we live it.

One hour later update: Went to take H to pick up the moving truck in my slippers, took ten minutes at the store to pick out two flavours of soda, forgot the beer, and if not for the kind young man who was arriving as I was leaving would have left my wallet in the grocery cart. So maybe just a little discombobulated...

A Touch

I was so exhausted, and I knew once I stopped there would be no getting back up. So instead of sitting down when I reached home today I headed straight to the back yard  to  mow the tall spring grass before putting out the green waste container for the garbage pick up tomorrow. I also raked up dead leaves from one corner of the patio to line the compost pit in the back yard and then took the time to spread all of the food scraps I'd been saving over it to make the next layer. I imagine that the pulp from juicing will give a head start to that whole decomp process.

After icing my back and having a quick visit from the girls who had stopped by to see how the seedlings were growing I landed in the kitchen, elbows on the counter and straw in my mouth. Too tired to pick up my juice container I slumped there drinking to slake the thirst I had worked up. And H came in the kitchen to get something and barely touched me as he  brushed past to the counter at the end of the kitchen. His hand was electric on my waist and it so pisses me off that at this late date in the game my body can betray me like that.

Now my throat aches and I'm sitting in the shadows of my office trying not to cry and trying to find my muchness to beat down these feelings. This was the best of us, the chemistry we had, and this is the part my grief tore to bits. I don't think either one of us will ever forget what it was once like, and while there are always two sides to every story, I know without a doubt that my side of the teeter totter is closer to the ground than his. Maybe there is a part of me that still hopes some day we will each come to a place where we can be together again. But I can't think about that right now. I have to think about the decision I made and why I made it and see it through; I truly believe it's the right thing for both of us. 

A deep breath, stress flowing out of my finger tips and out into the universe, and I know we will both be okay. Hopefully sooner than later, and hopefully still friends. Now, if only I had boot straps to pull myself up and go pack another two boxes. Guess I'll have to do it anyway. Damn.

Inheritance of Love

Do I love & cherish my granddaughter because my grandmothers doted on me, and made me feel special and loved and precious? Or did my grandmothers love and cherish me because that's just the way it is between grandmothers & granddaughters and I'm simply carrying the torch on to anther generation? I know my Mom loves my daughter, but I think that distance tempered the passion. I am so grateful that this bundle of love & energy is a part of my life, and that I get to be a part of hers. I didn't know I was going to be able to love this way again after we lost Joey, and it came as a wonderful surprise when she was born, this love she brought into my life. Into all of our lives.

What a corny little post, but heartfelt. I am ever so grateful for this capacity to love. And my thoughts stem from the news and a meteor of all things. Of how it came blasting into our atmosphere and dumped tons of energy in it's passing. Yes indeed, very much like the impact of a granddaughter.