BLE: Reboot Rezoom (RBRZ)

 It's such a bright day after raining cats and dogs yesterday, the sun a shining testimonial to the hopes many of us have for the new year. No resolutions, no goals, just day to day practicing the pause between thoughts and actions. I am not what I think, I am what I eat, and I will eat bright.

Started the morning with Cal, making first his breakfast and then mine, and then watching Dance Monsters cuddled on the cough together. Truly an act of love watching that with him, lol. 

Sorry to see the last of the ham go, ham on toast is a wonderful breakfast, but eager to move on to 'healthier' choices.

Just signed on to join the reboot rezoom facebook page for Bright Line Eating. While I don't feel the old manic feeling, I do feel hopeful that I will follow through this time. Just for today. I think that is the power I need to embrace, that like any addict I just need to do this one day at a time.

So happy new year. I'm embracing the calm and hopefulness that I feel in the day's energy; I love it when you can ride a global emotional tide.

Time to do some stretching, get dressed, and then maybe do some colouring.

BLE and the Baking Debrief

 Waking up knowing  you've had a bright day, and that your food is planned to have another one, gives a sense of solidarity of purpose, a confidence that one day I will be in my bright body.

Yesterday went swimmingly. I did no baking, but kept the dishes caught up between batches, and perched on the corner of the living room couch (a usual place, not a pre-meditated one) in case there was anything I could do to help. But they had everything handled, and aside from one scraping of hot caramel while R held the bowl there wasn't really anything for me to do. Which was good, because shopping is still rather exhausting.

The win for the day was the calm I experienced. Not feeling like I should be helping more, no food chatter in my brain about what I would or would not eat of the many treats on the list. Just calm. And gratitude, so grateful to feel a part of the chaos.  The need to control anything that happens in this house has been fading since the decision to move South. I really feel it is their home now, and my sense of ownership is just a small piece of bedrock in the back of my mind.

When my BLE brain in onboard, it's an easy thing. I don't feel the energy of my food controller, telling me what I won't do, and I hear nothing from my indulger, their constant whispering about what I will do simply silenced. I just felt like my own true self; enjoying family, the cozy home we share, and the banter amongst us a great comfort. I will miss these things when I go, and it will be up to me to create that atmosphere with Mom.

Pozole. The instant pot soup I made yesterday wasn't really Pozole, it was more just pork soup with hominy. Next time I will make it the day before so I can remove some of the fat from the broth, but it was delicious. and before I measure out today's lunch from the leftovers I will remove what fat I can. 

Recipe: Sauté in the instant pot on medium three small yellow onions and one large Pasillo pepper in a small amount of avocado oil until the onion is translucent. Add one quart of chicken stock and scrap up any brown bits, then sprinkle dried oregano across the broth in one light layer. (No, I didn't measure.) Stir and keep on sauté while cutting up the boneless pork shoulder. It was a large roast, and I trimmed off the thick cap of fat before cutting it into about eight large chunks. Add carefully to onion mixture, seal lid of instant pot, and set for 90 minutes (or 1:30).  Natural release for 30 minutes before releasing the pressure.

Open the pot and remove the tender meat, setting aside into a casserole dish to keep warm. Add 2 large cans of hominy to the pot, some chili powder and cumin then give a nice stir. Start adding back the meat to the pot, removing the most obvious chunks of fat that have separated from the meat. Another gentle stir, reseal the lid, and set to warm.

This was easy to pull out and measure first the meat, and then the hominy, and finally the broth. The last 2 ounces of veg was fresh green cabbage sliced up on top. The kids ate theirs later with servings of the white Jasmine rice I had made.  The soup was so good, but next time I want to make a real Pozole with chilies. Today I'll make Spanish rice with those leftovers and pack it up with spicy refried beans for some instant breakfasts.

It's so lovely to be in a positive mood, to know my bright breakfast is just minutes away, and to admire the grey morning outside my window; the neighborhood decorated with frost on the rooftops and lawns all the way down the block and onto the wild expanse of weeds and bare-branched trees that was once a golf course. Thank heavens for our small cozy home.

BLE and Christmas Baking

 This morning I am up and dressed and ready to go shopping. The family has chosen four recipes to make today to fill the plates, bags, or tins that we will fill to give out to friends and neighbors and I have volunteered to go pick up ingredients. I have very mixed feelings about this, and part of me wants to just drive away and not have anything to do with it.

    Why put temptation in front of myself?
    Why give treats that are potentially poisonous to a friend of neighbor?
    Why model behavior to my family that no longer feels appropriate?

All good questions that have been asked a multitude of times in the BLE FB group. And I know that the right thing to do would be to suggest a different way to celebrate. Make gifts that aren't edible? Have small parties where we play games and have fun sparkly drinks that don't involve sugar? Make a hiking date with a photo competition?  I would love any of these; well not so much the hiking right now with my health. But if I can so clearly see a different path, why can I not even suggest taking it?

Because my grandson is excited about the baking, because my daughter has a list of friends and family they want to bake for as a way to celebrate. Because my desire to belong to the pack is so much stronger than my will to take care of myself and ultimately them and the friends and family with which they wish to celebrate.

I'm re-listening to Rezoom by SPT, and this scenario fits so many of the criteria on why food is an addiction. We have the social cues, those of the season, and the pressures of tradition. To bake something out of love and share it to celebrate with friends and family didn't use to be so controversial. But there is no comparing today with how we celebrated 50 or 100 years ago. The 'food' environment has changed so drastically, and that is not something I wish to entrench myself in today.

God, I have become so cynical.

There is a part of me that wants to help today, to decorate, to laugh with my family and create something out of love. And deep down my own true self says this is not a bad thing. I think it is my food controller that is scared of where this might lead, and my indulger who is excited about the prospect. And I am the one who needs to 'drive this bus', not them. It's up to  me to experience the joy and celebration without letting it devolve into sneaking treats in the middle of the night. Thank heavens most of it will be packed up for gifts.

I think that maybe next year I can suggest an alternative plan earlier on, and then I remember I won't be here next year. I will be down South with my Mother. And my brain says this is the real reason to bake today, because it will probably be the last time, and all of a sudden I am sad and needing to go put my shoes on and get busy.

I will enjoy today for all it means to be together, not for what may or may not be eaten at the end of it. This I can promise myself.

BLE: parts work during the holidays

 This morning another Bright Lifer posted a memory from her FB feed that really struck home for me. It was a Drew Carey quote,  "Eating crappy food isn't a reward -- it's a punishment." And while this has been said many ways in slightly different forms by many others, for some reason these particular words were like an arrow to my heart.

Because I do think that part of my eating is punishing myself, keeping myself from being happy. Because I do feel that I have done horrible things, and often at the end of the countless discussions I've had with myself about whether or not to eat something, the bottom line is that it doesn't matter because really I don't care about life anymore.  Or that I don't deserve to be anything other than what I have become. That I am the result of my past actions.

I took a hard look at myself this morning and am proud to say I don't believe that anymore. If I have self inflicted blame for the parts of my life I am ashamed of, haven't I paid enough already? Isn't it about time I let myself out of jail? 

So I will use that question today if faced with a food decision, 'Why do I want to punish myself?" I have known my whole life that I am a 'good' person at heart, at my very core, and that the times I fell short would easily be explained away by others as me just being being human. Or some such rationale. The latest shortcoming revolves around the death of my son. That I didn't model a better example, that I wasn't there for him while he was struggling in school. That I divorced his father. Just writing these things makes me so sad, and tearful, and full of regret. But it will have been 17 years this coming February, and living a small sad life in no way serves his memory. I know that.

The great thing about parts work is that I can now feel these feelings, and let them wash over me, consume me even, and know that it's temporary. And that once they are gone I will still be here, and that I will not be destroyed.  It's sort of like the 'Litany against fear' in the Dune saga, but I can substitute Grief for Fear.  " And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see it's path. Where the grief has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."  But more than that, hopefully I can reach the part of me that has remained moored in the grief, and give her some love and compassion. Maybe even do some healing.

This morning I have hope for a great holiday season. For maybe even some golden sunset years if I can keep doing the work.

BLE: Morning pages - a rambling beginning

 After posting in the BLE Facebook group yesterday, I thought about what a small part of myself I could truly share. About how little control I felt over my life at the moment, and how that shaded my perspective of how I work the plan. But I don't want to whine in public, and make excuses for why my program is not strong. So I'll do my whining here in private, and try to explore why I am so at odds with myself.

Because I am not grounded or secure in my place. Instead I am out of synch with what I had planned and find myself unanchored, adrift, bewildered by this new landscape. I was to have driven South in October to begin a new sort of life; living with my mother, helping with her care, and figuring out where my life would fit into that new reality. And not just that, but also learning about her, and how we fit together as mother and daughter now that I am no longer her little girl. But that didn't happen.

Now I am living in this little house with my daughter and her family, a home that I had mentally given over to them and was ready to leave. The plan was, and still is though somewhat delayed, to give over my bedroom to my youngest grandson. Giving him a place of his own, and by extension giving his older brother his own place. While we are so blessed to have this cozy little house and the security it provides, it is also true that we are crammed in here, and there is little room to just be ourselves while always needing to give so much consideration and compromise to everyone else in the family.

So I feel like a visitor, and try to keep to myself. It's not anything that they make me feel, it's a self imposed need to give them the space to just be a little family together. All in all it has been a freeing experience, letting go of how I wanted things to be and instead being able to look at our adjusted reality and give over the reigns to those who will be in charge once I do finally head South. I want them to feel like it's their house, their home to make as they wish. But feeling that way makes it hard to carve out my own space.

Which leaves me feeling, as I said, not grounded. This combined with my lack of strength while recovering from my illness, does not make for a great platform from which to work my BLE program. I have been so dependent upon them for my care and well being for the past two months, and I will be eternally grateful. But it is time for me to figure out in my own home what I was planning on doing down South with my Mom; how do I integrate what I need while not displacing their normal routines.

My new reality is that I don't have the energy to batch cook, I am currently without car and while I can use my daughter's I don't have the freedom to just jump in and go grocery shopping anytime I need. It's hard to explain, because certainly I can use her car anytime she isn't - it's just the knowledge that I don't have complete control over something that I once took for granted. I have tried having groceries delivered, but it's just not the same as picking out your own fresh produce. While I do make lists, for me shopping often provides the inspiration I need for meal planning. What looks best, what is on sale, what are the staples I like to keep on hand. Shopping has been an important step in my process, and I wasn't really aware of it until I could no longer do it.

This makes meals somewhat stressful at times. Do I make my own food or eat with them. Which is a lot of take-out. As I regain my energy I do cook more, and a part of me recognizes that my current frailty is gradually passing. That I just need to stay calm, and have courage, for a bit longer. Which sounds like a funny thing to say about food, but it's not always easy to make good choices when in a weakened state and surrounded by so much temptation.

Every day I am grateful for what I have. And I recognize the growth I am experiencing while recovering from such a close call. While I am still the same semi-depressed individual I have always been most of my life, I also have the tools from the past three years to help me recognize and appreciate the changes I am going through. And this  morning I am trying to clarify the part of me that is still trying to hang on to what was, to control my surroundings, and give light to the part that can still thrive under these new circumstances.

My focus on these morning pages is two-fold. To have them be part of my morning habit stack, and to help clear my brain so I can move forward and work a better plan. While my feelings above are valid, it is also true that it's a little bit of a pity party and I am ready to  move past that. I am adaptable, I can thrive anywhere if I just give myself the chance.

I wrote down my food last night, and I commit to eating only and exactly that today. It helps that it's exactly what I ate yesterday, and that it's all bright and delicious.

BLE and Bacterial Meningitis

 The past two months have been challenging, and I thought maybe if I wrote it all down it would help me realize just how hard it has been, and how far along my recovery has come. I don't remember the first two days but according to my daughter this is how it went.

On Tuesday 10/4 she realized I hadn't been up, and that she hadn't seen me since getting back from taking the kids to school. Checking on me in my room it seemed that I was sound asleep. When I wasn't out for lunch she tried waking me up, and maybe I mumbled a response but it wasn't coherent. That afternoon when unable to wake me she said she was calling 911. That is the one thing I do remember, her face in sort of a halo of light saying 911. But I don't remember the ambulance arriving, the paramedics lifting me from my bed and carrying me out of the house, or them saying to my daughter that I was too hot, and probably my blood was infected.

She spent the next twelve hours in the emergency room while they ran test after test. Thank heavens I don't remember the spinal tap that finally revealed the meningitis. From there I was taken to ICU and they began treating me with broad spectrum antibiotics while testing for which bacteria was causing the infection. It turned out to be a very common one that had made it's way to my brain.

I remember waking up in ICU, my daughter by my side, and so began my week in hospital. Now that I was awake, and treatment was under way, they moved me upstairs to continue testing and treating me. Anyone who has had a hospital stay for any length of time knows it is anything but restful. Checking vitals at all times of the day and night, and for me there were breathing treatments, blood tests to monitor the infection, and the monitoring of my intravenous antibiotics. I was bedridden for days, and I learned later that I had argued about using what I saw later to be what looked like a large tampon to pee in. Instead they fitted me with a catheter. That is another memory that came back, being swabbed down in my nether region to prep for that. It took me a couple of days to be aware enough that I was tethered by this to the bed making it uncomfortable to turn over.

During this time I realized I couldn't hear very well, and that I was asking the nurses to repeat themselves and even holding my hand up to bend my ear forward to hear better. Gradually this became better, but has not recovered fully. Later,  a CT scan would show a mass behind my right mastoid bone, and a visit to the ear doctor would test my hearing at just below the lowest normal range. More about that later.

I think it was the third day they identified the bacteria and began treatment with a specific antibiotic. And it may have been around the same time they approved a clear liquid diet for me. I had been drinking water, knowing how important it was to stay hydrated, and it was lovely the day I was offered tea. I wish now that I had known at the time they had treated me with morphine as I was moaning and thrashing while unconscious. Or maybe what I wish is that they had a 'constipation protocol' in place for when they administer that type of drug knowing what is going to happen. It could have saved me a week of misery. But that would come later.

The first time I was offered food my immediate thought was, no sugar or flour, and I could only think of stories I had heard about how horrible hospital food was. As it turns out, the choices were so much better than expected. Fresh blueberries were my first real food, and so delicious. I didn't have much of an appetite and it was easy to stop eating when satisfied. There was some confusion with getting what I ordered, or it being moved in the nurses fridge when I wasn't hungry at 'meal times' and wanted to wait to eat later. But all in all my food was clean and I was able to keep my first two lines bright.  There were spinach omelets with cheese, and potatoes on the side. I always asked for blueberries, and one day after some mix-up the plain unsweetened yogurt showed up.  I think my favorite breakfast was a little container of cottage cheese and a fruit bowl.

I can't recall what day, maybe the 7th or 8th of October,  I wanted to get out of bed and go to the bathroom so they removed the catheter and I got on my feet.  That was humbling, using a walker to make it a few feet from the bed, but I was grateful to be up and about. And it was a day later the nurse started asking if I had had a bowel movement. THAT would have been a good time to know about the morphine and get ahead of that game. But I didn't, and I feel somewhat idiotic now that it didn't occur to me that having started eating solid food I should be eliminating waste.

I was strong enough by Friday that they started talking about releasing me over the weekend. My beautiful, generous, strong daughter took a class on how to continue my intravenous antibiotics at home so I could be discharged. If she hadn't, it would have been a nursing home, and I am grateful everyday for her compassion and steadfastness in being willing to do it. It was just a reminder course, she and her husband had treated their son at home for leukemia and were already familiar with the protocols, and so a mid-line port was inserted into my arm and on Sunday she drove me home in the late afternoon.

All in all it was a week I never want to repeat. And nor is the next one. I was so exhausted all the time, and just getting from my bed to the bathroom across the hall wore me out. Sometimes I even remained lying down while being given my antibiotics. Bless her heart, my daughter came in twice a day, usually about 9am and 9pm, to clear the line, administer the meds, and clear the line again. This after disinfecting the desk next to my bed and laying out the syringes and cleaning pads. It always felt so professional, and I was confident I was in good hands. I was looking forward to treatment being done, and so sure that I would start feeling better once the meds had cleared my system.  Wrong.

I 'continued to languish' (had to throw some fancy novel language in there) over the next week, always expecting to feel better but continuing to lie abed day after day. I remember it as just one continual pattern of sleeping, eating, and peeing. Because I still wasn't having bowel movements and all of a sudden that became of great concern. How does someone not go to the bathroom for two weeks?! It was then I found out about the morphine and about how much pain I had been in while unconscious. Which I find so strange. Anyway, after trying many OTC treatments for constipation we finally called the Dr., who said go to emergency. NO! I couldn't bear it, but I could find the strength to bear down and start some movement. After days of drinking awful stuff and taking stool softeners my body was finally ready to start releasing the waste. Thank heavens.

I should mention that my eating during that week was a little nuts. Breakfast was fruit and maybe some cream of wheat cereal, and I discovered that I couldn't stand the smell of bananas or peanut butter anymore. And while I enjoyed toast (sprouted whole grain from TJs) I no longer wanted cheese on top. I also became aware of how my senses were compromised; oranges tasted like licorice, I couldn't smell bacon cooking, and eating became a dance of little tastes.  Canned soups became lunches, and I would share a little of what the rest of the family was having for dinner.  There were a couple of times I had cravings that my daughter was happy to fulfill (filet of fish, how strange) and fudge popsicles relieved the ache in my mouth and throat for a couple of days. Oh yes, I forgot to mention that the last couple of days in the hospital I had canker sores start erupting on my upper lip. Over the course of my first week at home they spread to my lower lip, and both nostrils of my nose. I feel horrible about how scary I must have looked to my grandchildren, but I was isolating in my room most of the time. Stress is a nasty business, and I still have a couple of scars that haven't disappeared yet.

But despite the strong desire upon waking in hospital to eat clean, once home it was more about just getting calories in and trying not to disrupt the family with specific requests.

Back to the drama. While my second week home was dealing with constipation, the third was about frustration that I wasn't better. That week I was able to start watching television and must have seen every favorite I had. Streaming turned into my best friend, often falling asleep during a movie I could go back and pick it back up. So my routine that week was to nap after each meal, hit the bathroom, then watch some TV only to fall asleep again. I was finally strong enough to sit at my desk and google bacterial meningitis, where I read that recovery usually takes a week to ten days. What? Of course I later learned that normally it's children who get this, and that because of my age and health factors this would not be normal for me. 

Finally having a zoom meeting for a follow up with the Doctor he was able to assure me his mother had this and it took months before she recuperated.  If nothing else, it gave me a sense of normalcy, and I began to hope for a full recovery. I had appointments to have my mid-line port removed, my hearing checked, and a CT scan to see if my brain had changed since first being admitted. OH, I forgot, at some point getting out of bed I realized I couldn't lift my right foot. It just wouldn't listen to my brain! I stood up, and limped my way to the bathroom, dragging my foot along and holding on the the hallway walls and doors to support myself. I should say that the arthritis in my back had been quiet throughout my ordeal, not deviling me with pain and I hadn't even thought about it. I realized I had been lying down so long I had been putting very little weight on those arthritic joints. Maybe the foot problem was a side effect?  Back in bed and stretching out my foot the tingling disappeared. There was another occurrence in the middle of the night and I became worried. After a consult with the Dr. and him mentioning 'foot drop' I again went on a google search. I really must stop doing that. Anyway, that conversation resulted in the follow up CT scan, with the results being that I had NOT had a stroke and that my white matter was consistent with a person my age. I think it was at this point they noted that bacterial meningitis is an infection of the nervous system, and that it wasn't just my brain being affected.

On 10/31 I was able for the first time to log in to work, and discovered that an hour of thinking (accounting) really taxed my brain. The pressure would start building and it would be back to bed. I was able to start sitting up on the couch to help watch Cal while my daughter worked (we both work remotely) and my napping became less. And despite the hearing Dr. saying there was no liquid behind my eardrum, my ears continued to pop every day, and my hearing gradually became a little better. I had an appointment with the head and neck department, but the day of my appointment I woke up with vertigo that put me back in bed for a few days. So frustrating!

The last two weeks of November I realized I was gaining strength each day, and I finally believed that my hope of a full recovery could be real. I was able to work a couple of hours each day, make my own meals most of the time, and while I still rested lots I was no longer going straight back to bed in the mornings. Finally in December I drove to a Dr. appt. on my own, and then a few days later was able to do a school drop off. Unfortunately upon arriving home I left the car turned on after lowering the windows and when I went out for the school pick up my car was dead. Thank heavens the kids have good friends and I was able to borrow a car.

My poor car still sits in the driveway, unusable, but I can't seem to focus on that yet. In the meantime I can use my daughter's car to help out, and eventually I'll get around to replacing the battery. 

So, here I am, 68 days after being taken to hospital, and I am still recovering. I'm helping more with the kids, and doing more around the house. I have yet to reschedule my neck & head appt. to see what's going on with my hearing, but I think it continues to improve. I do get headaches, but they are fleeting and come less often. And my brain fog is mostly gone. I still need to rest after a couple of hours of computer work, but I am fortunate to have a flexible work schedule. Last week was the first I was able to work four hours each day - my normal part time hours- and each day I am grateful for my family, for the ability to rest when I need to, and that I can ask for help anytime I am too tired to pull my share of the house chores or cook or shop.

Speaking of shopping, I did drive to the store this past week, and get groceries. I even put everything away before collapsing exhausted on the couch. At the store my automaticity had set in and I came home with mostly BLE staples plus some other items for the family. It has greatly reduced my food chatter not being able to drive, and I realized that day arriving home that I hadn't even considered driving through anywhere or picking up a 'treat' at the store. At least that part of my brain isn't broken.

But now that I truly feel that I am on the way to a full recovery, I am dealing with the fallout from my change in taste and smell. Buttered toast calls me, and if there is no sprouted bread available I'll use the regular whole wheat. And if my granddaughter bakes cookies I'll have a couple. So I have not been bright past a couple of days here and there. I did have an epiphany at Thanksgiving, realizing I truly am a food addict, and it has been much on my mind since then.  I'm back to listening to the accountability calls, and logging in to the Facebook group each day, but I haven't been able to commit.

I started using my journal to write down food on 11/14, but not consistently, and I just keep listening to my part that says I'm still in recovery, and shouldn't stress about food. I know better, I know eating clean will only help my recovery. And I suppose that is why I am here today, writing this all out. I know what to do, and I want to do it, and I am not sure why I am not. So I am going to commit here to my habit stacks, knowing that my food will fall into place soon enough. I am determined that this Christmas will be Merry & Bright. Funny, the tiny whisper that negates that, but I will do parts work for that, because that is not the real me.

Whew, glad that's out. I know I missed a lot of details, and there will probably be more about this. But for now, it is way past breakfast, and I need to rest!

BLE and the common cold

 About a week ago this past Wednesday my throat started to hurt. We had received a call from the school on Monday that Cal may have been exposed to Covid so I was a little worried. We both got sick, but I tested negative, so it was just a cold. A miserable one with lots of chest congestion and going through a box of tissues each day.  And we are still not well over a week later. The first few days I ate anything that would soothe my throat; yogurt and ice cream being the main offenders. But I knew I didn't want to end up in the ditch so I switched to eating breakfast three times a day. One day I was so exhausted I had rice & beans all day that I had measured and packed with salsa and cheese for easy breakfast meals; easy to warm up out of the fridge. In the book Bright Line Eating Susan does say you can do that if you're sick. So I did, I had three breakfasts.

OMG, I was so stuffed going to bed that night I decided enough! I just needed to FTFP, and that would help me heal too. So I realized today that I've been Bright two days in a row. No biggie, I do it all the time. With several days of almost being bright in between. I am what they call a 99 %er, or a slight-liner. Someone who can't seem to stay Bright despite good intentions, habit stacks, and support.

I am writing here this evening with the hope that if I write it out, I can head into tomorrow with a healthy frame of mind and have a 3rd bright day. What I would really love is to finish out 2022 Bright. No Sugar, No Flour, No Snacks, Weighed and Measured Meals. I have heard it so many times, if you can do two days, you can do three. etc etc etc.

I've been listening to the Accountability Call recordings, and most of them start with questions I want to say yes to but rarely can. Were you Bright,? Did you write down your food? Did you commit it to yourself or someone else? I don't want 'NO' popping up in my head. I want to answer with YES YES YES. Why? Because I need some integrity around my eating.

Wait a Minute! The day of three breakfasts was also Bright, so I already have three Bright days. Well, I can't actually count this one until the morning, but I think I finally slayed the 3am eating beast so I'm pretty confident. So tomorrow can be day four. What about that!

I don't know why but I feel better already just knowing I can use Joey's Birthday as the day 'when I finally committed.'  Maybe he gave me a present. A fanciful thought, but lovely as they go.

Anyway, still coughing and blowing my nose, but forcing down the veggies and fruit. Using the oil from the jar of artichoke hearts has helped, as has the vinegar from the Kalamata olives; who needs dressing when you have those! 

Alan baked macaroon cookies this evening, and there are still a couple hanging out on the kitchen counter. Not even temped, and they are my favorites. When you're on, you're on. Figuring out how to keep the switch flipped is my current goal.

Here are some notes from stickies littering my desk.

    It's not magic, it's willingness

    Boil potatoes, chill in fridge, then reheat. This causes the starch to become resistant, meaning less easily digestible and reaching the colon to feed the good bacteria.

I think we're out of potatoes, so maybe some overnight oats for breakfast. Time to write down my food for tomorrow so I can think yes tomorrow while listening to an AC recording.

BLE: Bootie Camp - Modules 1 & 2

When I first read Bright Line Eating it struck a chord that reverberated throughout my whole being like a clarion call and I was indeed moved to action. Here it is almost three years later and I have come a long way; learned about my parts and to love my Rebel. Learned how to respect what works for me and what doesn't, and that was by learning to listen to my own true self, or as BLE would say it, my authentic self. But what I haven't done is taken off the weight that is negatively impacting my weight. So maybe this isn't right for me? But maybe it is.

Recently in my MMG one of the group said she was divorcing BLE and was studying Instinctive Eating - she no longer would be told what, when, and how to eat. It really made me think, but it didn't take long to recognize we are at different places and that I could respect her decision while making my own. And my own was to immerse myself back into BLE, because it dawned on me that I am choosing to follow the plan. I need to lose weight to lift the burden my arthritic back is carrying - I need to be out of pain. And BLE can get the weight off. But that's not all. I really do appreciate my brain when it's off drugs (sugar & flour) and the shift in perspective it affords me. More positive, less moody, more inclined to pay attention to self care instead of wallowing in a pity pool

Having made this decision it was easy to embrace the Bootie Camp just started by another BLE buddy. The first time I went through Boot Camp I discovered my Rebel and felt like I was being dragged kicking and screaming through an exercise in futility.  Bootie camp is going through the Boot Camp modules again, but this time together as a small group. I think there are about ten of us which will afford us the time to get to know one another and give & take the support we need. The original Boot Camp had hundreds of members in it and I just isolated, totally overwhelmed, and could never connect with the group. I feel that the parts work I have done, in combination with what I now know about myself, brings me to a place that I can appreciate what I missed the first time around, and discard without shame or regret the parts that don't serve me.

Noes below on the first two modules, what I find important this time around and reflections on what I have learned as each topic arises. I hope these will be my journaling prompts for the next eight weeks.

Module 1:     

Be unstoppable: We do this one day at a time (ODAAT). I feel that the two years I spent maintaining the original 30# loss was a lesson in 'Rezooming'. No matter what I ate or did during the day or evening I would wake up optimistic and ready to be Bright every morning. Interestingly enough, this morning I did not. I felt I knew what to do, but had no manic energy to predict the rest of the day. Sometimes it's not one day at a time, but one meal, or moment, or second at a time. It just all feels possible, and it's a good feeling.

Have an Emergency Action Plan (EAP): I never wrote this down the first time around, but I did last week:

    Human connection:  grab a child to hug or wrestle or swim
    Prayer:  ask the Universe for help
    Meditation: do breath work to settle my parts
    Gratitude:  just be thankful, just take a moment to be in love with my world
    Service:  make a phone call or sign on to check group messages
    Distraction:  play a game or get outside & water the garden

Sanctity. Create self-care practices that support my True North. I've never thought of self-care as creating a sanctuary, but that is what it does. Surrounding myself with habits that are solely to take care of myself and not about anyone else has been enlightening. Hearing all of the 'oxygen mask' talk for the last 20 years or so just felt like hype for being selfish. Now I know the truth, we need to take care of ourselves mentally & physically.

Module 2:    

Commit Food:  I have never been able to do this, not wanting to feel like a pretender or liar when I couldn't eat 'only and exactly' what I had committed. But this time I want to work the program, and with help I downloaded the Messenger App on my phone and learned how to snap a pic of my food for the next day and post it to the group.

Counting Days: For me there is no Day One. No 100 day colouring pages, no marking off Bright Days or hearts on a calendar. It's triggering for my Rebel - she won't be told what to do. Instead I focus on just the one next meal, and feel good about it being Bright, and that the last meal I had was Bright, and that the next one I make will be Bright. It's a relief knowing I can live in the present and not stress about what I will have to report.

Body Scale:  SPT suggests weighing monthly, and then weekly as you approach maintenance so you can manage your 'Adds.'  I started weighing my body weekly. Then as I lost my Brightness I only weighed if I felt lighter. I tried putting the scale in the garage and weighed monthly, and finally I stopped weighing my body. The food chatter was too great, the number too inflammatory. No matter what the number a part of me was ready to go crazy and I had had enough.  I did weigh at my Mom's in February confirming I was still at 202 - the same exact weight on the same scale from two years earlier. And I think it was a trigger for me, Two months later I had gained 15 pounds - half of my original weight lost! NO MORE. No more body scale. My clothes will tell the tale.

Meditation: It has been a relief to finally add this to my daily routine. Once I learned you don't have to use a meditation bench or sit cross legged I embraced it. And realized I've been using mantras to meditate for quite a while. First as a child to self-soothe, then after reading Eat Pray Love I began to use Elizabeth Gilbert's mantras. After reading up on breathing, I added breath work (4 in through the nose, count to two, seven out through the mouth) to ground myself before slowing my breath and relaxing was key.

Daily Reader:  I tried, and all of the positivity just annoyed me. I need to find some poetry or something that is beautiful without being preachy.

Habit Stacks: Slowly but surely I have developed these. Besides my AM and PM stacks below I eat everyday at the same time, 8am, 11am, and 4pm.  This ensures I have breakfast before the kids need me, that I prepare my lunch and get out of the kitchen before my daughter takes her lunch at noon (she works from home) and finally that I eat dinner prior to starting my evening job at 5 and still have time to tidy up the kitchen.  

AM  Meditation, O'Tropin, Pills, Dandelion Tea with Collagen, breakfast, PT Exercises

PM   Commit Food for the next day to my Bootie Camp group, Pills, brush teeth, O'Tropin

That's all for now, just enjoying a quiet Monday morning and getting my thoughts together for our Bootie Camp call this evening.  

BLE: Maintenance course Intro

Gems from the Introduction module to the first Maintenance course from Bright Line Eating.

Nothing changes at maintenance.

There's no 'arrival'.

There's no rush to get anywhere.

I'm already living in the grace.

The gift is this Bright day.

These are the small excerpts that brought me peace yesterday, that calmed my rebel spirit and maybe even let her accept a little bit that this is something I really want, and not only that, it's something that we can really do.

Always the food chatter around 'diet' to see if we can lose a certain amount by a certain day has been a recipe for disaster. During BL Freedom, I learned to address this chatter using parts work so that it doesn't send me into manic mode, and from there into depression.

Reboot Rezoom confirmed that me rezooming each morning is a good thing, a perfect thing really. I just needed to smooth out my actions & reactions so that I never dip into the danger and destruction zone over the course of the day and into the evening.

Now in the Maintenance I course, I am already inspired by the way SPT frames ideas, finding it natural and easy to take them to heart. I had never looked at 'One Day at a Time' as the gift it really is. Here I have a gift everyday to make it not only Bright, but to use it as a stepping stone towards peace. To see my 'one days' as integral to building a path forward just isn't something I accepted before. I think I do now. And it's so easy, all I need to do is care for myself today, and the rest will take care of itself.

Feeling abnormally positive today.  The leg pains are still there, the back is still a problem, my energy level is still low, and in spite of it all the revelations of yesterday keep me buoyed above it all. 

Nothing changes at maintenance.
Maybe I will get to add a grain at dinner, but everything else will remain the same. This is for life, and the habit stacks I am practicing now will still be the way forward no matter what I weigh.

There's no 'arrival'.
I'm already where I need to be, having one Bright day at a time. There is no magic date that will move me from what is normal to some magical place. Onederland is just a marker, not a destination. 

There's no rush to get anywhere.
Again, one day at a time will take me where I need to go. I don't have to be extra perfect for a specific amount of time to meet a deadline. Being Bright one day at a time will make sure that no matter what I weigh on any specific date I will feel good about myself on that day because I will know I am doing/have done everything I need to do.

I'm already living in the grace.
This one is not as clear, but living in the answer & being present to knowing I am on the right path, this is what puts me in a state of grace.

The gift is this Bright day.
Bright Line Eating is the answer to my food addiction, it's a gift SPT has given us with her experience, science, love, and determination to make our lives better. This knowledge of how to have a Bright day, to make this one day Bright, is all we need. Everything else will follow.

Brightline Eating; Reframe Rezoom

 Here is my post from this morning in the Bright Line Eating community:

TLTR: Last month I decided it was time to visit my Mother; she is 90 and I hadn't seen her at all since Covid. I had stopped weighing myself some time ago, but thought it might be safe to do so away from home. Stepping on her scale in March I was unsurprised to see that I was exactly the same weight as I had been the last time I stepped on her scale - Feb 2020.

During that visit we decided it would be a good idea for me to visit each month through the Summer and so here I am again, a month later, visiting Mom and her scale. Knowing I had a rough month behind me I looked at the scale and knew it might be a bad idea to once again step on those forbidden shores. But I did anyway. How on earth I managed to gain 9 pounds in a month is not beyond imagining, but still was quite a shock. Trying to look back over the month I do see that in between my bright days there were a lot of fourth meals just before bed, and some snacking during the day. Realizing how far I had slipped into the ditch while lying to myself about it was rather disheartening.

Having maintained a 30# loss for two years (50# to go) had been a little frustrating, but gaining back a third of it in a month was just heartbreaking. I ranted and raved yesterday morning in the first journal entry I had made in months, and by the end of that little exercise I was once again in the frame of mind to have a bright breakfast. And then I realized I was drinking tea with cream in it as I had forgotten to bring my oat milk.

The day didn't go badly, but I wasn't bright, and this morning when I signed on to do Wordle the below memory was waiting for me. The final straw in my attitude adjustment.

So here it is, my commitment to eating only and exactly what I am about to write down for the day!

b)   Triscuits, PB, Banana

l)    Green Salad, cheese, apple

d)   Ham, scalloped potatoes, coleslaw

Neither light nor healthy, but I had planned recipes to make a compliant Easter dinner for Mom. Tonight I will commit my food here for Sunday when I am driving home. (4.5 hrs trip.)

BLE: Committing to Life

I think common sense won out on March 1st, and I did not weigh myself. Or maybe it was the cheesy bread I ate in the middle of the night, and knowing I would be heavy in the morning just couldn't get on the scale. Both cases are probably true, but the bottom line is that I did eventually weigh myself on the fourth after three Bright Days and Nights in a row, and saw a new low number since starting Bright Line Eating. 201.2 to be exact, or as exacting as my scale can be at any given moment. Yesterday was lower again at 201.8 - the closest I've been to breaking 200 in about ten years? I think it was 2009 when I had lost weight and competed in the senior archery tournament.

I haven't weighed since, and while the scale is still in the bathroom it's only because I keep forgetting to grab it on the way to the garage. I plan on focusing on my lines and forgetting about the number for at least until 5/1. Or maybe 5/4 - you know, "May the force (fourth) be with you!"

In an affirmation of my little streak of Bright nights, I stopped on the way home from work and picked up some new bras in a smaller size. I'm happy with the fit, but realized on trying them on that only one of them is adjustable to a smaller size. But they were cheap as such things go, and I have no problem buying new ones as needed, so I'm keeping them all.

But I need to address something that has been much on my mind. The chatter in my head keeps trying to justify\explain\excuse away the thought that keeps surfacing. I was so concerned about not being able to 'come all the way in, and sit all the way down' when finally the root of the problem presented itself in an aha moment earlier this week. That's what a caring master mind group and a brain free from drugs for a few days will do to you. It wasn't about me not wanting to keep my lines bright, it was about not being sure I wanted to even be here. Not in Bright Line Eating, but in Life.

Life. That thing I have been holding on to for the sake of my daughter, my mother, my grandchildren. But not for myself. I have held a grudge my whole life, one of my earliest memories is swinging on the gate in front of our house, and remembering coming from someplace wonderful, and bemoaning the fact that I had to be here. Here, in this most mundane and tiresome of places. I have thought about that memory many times in my life, and thought of it in different ways depending on where I was on  my journey. At one point I succumbed to the inevitable that I was here for a reason, and that eventually it would present itself, or not, and that I just needed to gracefully accept the fact that I would be here as long as it took and than I might never know the why.

But when Joey died, it all became more confusing. If I was here to love him during his short and hard life, wasn't my job done? Couldn't I just go now? But no, I couldn't disappoint the family that was left, that's not what a 'good girl' does. It's not that they wouldn't do fine without me, but at this age I know that the stigma of the act on those that remain is a dark and ugly thing. So I stayed. Not that I ever actually thought about ending my life. But I often use to tell myself as a girl, that if things were so bad that I felt the urge to leave, I could catch a freight steamer to another part of the world and just have a different life. I realize now that this thought was a way to vent steam, and that some part of me knew I needed the option to stay sane.

So there I was, thinking about what it is I really want as opposed to what I 'have to do' or 'should do', and the thought came that in order to really want things for myself, I need to want to be here. Here on earth. A spiritual being having a human experience. Whatever. But really here. And that's when I had to look at that question seriously. Do I want to be here? After a life spent rebelling against having to be here, could I really embrace the experience, and come all the way in, and sit all the way down. 

Because all of a sudden I knew that if I was going to accomplish anything in what is left of my life, I was going to have to make that decision. Did I really want to be here? 

I'm pretty sure the answer is yes.

BLF: getting ready for bed

I am not sure where to start, or how much of this I have written about before, but I am annoyed and need to sort my thoughts out. I am wondering why I can't enjoy a little success without then turning around and sabotaging myself. Yesterday was Bright, as was last night. Not a bite out of place. Today too was easy to navigate and no lines broken. Why can't I just enjoy this without worrying about tonight?

Not really actively worrying, but I am aware that for each success I rebound at some point whether it's a day or a week later. I know, one day at a time, and for me also one night at a time. I don't want to borrow trouble, but it would be ever so nice to have a whole week of Bright nights in a row. Maybe that would be enough to keep me going for a month, and then a year, and then I could finally get to the freedom part of the program. Really have some semblance of normalcy.

I've been avoiding meat, adding nuts to my dinner, and hemp oil to my night time tea for the past few days. I'm hoping it's making a difference, but it's probably too soon to expect noticeable results. I know once I can eliminate cheese that will make a difference, and I am planning on not replenishing my supply of gorgonzola once it's gone. I do so love me some cheese and pecans, but I know it's part of my ongoing inflammation problem. Challenge. Whatever. 

So I am here to purge negative thoughts, and try to head to bed with a positive attitude.  If my rebel shows up later tonight, I will chat her up. I will not let myself turn left coming out of the bathroom, instead I will go straight back to my warm and cozy bed.  If I can't sleep I will practice slow and mindful breathing, or listen to my book. 

I am focused on fasting to heal. I am shutting down the temptation to look to the future for goals - I have an immediate goal that is more important than anything coming down the tube. Tonight, tonight is the most important thing I can focus on because it will lead to another night, and another. 

I am looking at the sticky on my desk that says, "Remember that the daytime Vail DOES CARE."  Because I do, this part of me that I like to think is my own true self does care. Saying that, I can hear the whisper that echoes deep inside of me that wants to say, "yea, but really you don't", and I know that is not the best of me. That thought is no longer welcome here. 

I am better than that.

BLE: Daily Weighing - reviewing the January experiment

The last day of January is finally here, and it was with genuine relief that I carried the scale out to the garage; may we both enjoy the reprieve from me stepping on it each morning. 

I was dismayed to see a gain this morning, but it wasn't unexpected as I ate last night. During my master mind group meeting I did a quick review from my paper journal and here are the figures.

From the first day on Bright Line Eating - Down 29.6 lbs, so maintaining my  original loss

From the first day of weighing daily - Down 2.4 lbs 

From my lowest numbers since starting BLE - Up 1 lb

So just a bunch of numbers that really don't mean anything except that weighing daily did not act as a stick or a carrot when it came to losing weight. What it did do was make me think about how I felt each morning; dreading a 'bad' number, hopeful for a 'good' number, and reacting in some fashion, mental or physical, to whatever I saw. I just feel that in all ways it was a revisit to diet mentality, and really pretty damaging. For me. This is all about finding out what works for me.

"Focus on your weight, and you'll lose your Bright lines, focus on your Bright Lines, and you'll lose the weight."  I know this, have felt this to be a truism, but guess I just needed to commit to something and see myself follow through. Now I know for sure that for me, stepping on the scale each morning is not a healthy choice.  It's really just a pain in the ass; thinking about wearing the same pajamas each morning, or disrobing to weigh naked in the biting cold of winter; trying to figure out if what I ate the day before was too salty, or if I had had enough water to drink; trying to analyze what I ate in terms of caloric intake, or if I ate too much unhealthy fat, or if I had weighed my salad dressing. Thinking of the food chatter this daily act added to each day I have a hard time imagining that I ever thought it was a good idea to do this. I have, after all, decades of experience that already supports my findings of this past month.

But it was mostly all about perspective, and analyzing this through the lens of BLE. Just maybe, I thought, knowing I am a food addict, and having an eating plan, will change my relationship with the scale. But no, I think there is too much water under the bridge for that to happen, and I am looking forward to not thinking about a number in February.  That being said, I know myself well enough to imagine it will be many times during the next 28 days that my mind wanders into the no man's land of I wondering about it, what the number might be, and maybe even be tempted to bring the scale in from the garage. But I am committing to not weighing until March 1st, and instead I will be focusing on keeping my lines bright, so that's not going to happen.

I think the intermittent fasting is going well, and that having Bright Lines to keep during my 8 hour eating window will make all the difference from my last attempt when I totally overate during the hours when I was not fasting.

So February:  

1. Intermittent Fasting (eating only 8am to 4pm)
2. Focusing on Bright Lines
3. Limiting Dairy & Meat

Number three is for healing, to support the intention behind the fasting. I mean, if my goal is pain relief, why am I eating foods that are known to be carcinogenic and inflammatory? So I didn't buy any meat at the grocery store this morning, instead picking up a couple of bags of dried beans. I have sun dried tomatoes, peppers, spinach etc. to make some flavourful batches of plant protein to have on hand in the fridge, and I picked up lots of salad fixings. 

G from my MMG reminded me this morning how wonderful the detox from animal protein feels, and I do remember from following Dr. Fuhrman years ago that about three days in I felt the change; the added energy, the cleansing of body and spirit. And I must say that I am looking forward to all of that.

This is easily said after a large salad for lunch that incorporated left over meatballs. I have one more serving of those, as well as one more serving of breakfast sausage, but I will pack those both up in freezer bags today to store for another time, or not, we will see.

I had a busy start for a Sunday; grocery shopping, meeting with my MMG, taking a walk with the family, preparing a Bright Line Lunch, and finally this journal entry. Time to rest a bit before doing some cooking, and organizing the fridge for the coming week.

It feels good to have an action plan based on experience and science, and not just on good intentions - which I have noted before on numerous occasions just leads to Hell. It feels good to know I have support and resources, and that I am not crazy, and not alone. I am connected to the world - entangled as they would say in what I believe is quantum physics, or mechanics, or whatever; it's definitely above my pay grade - but I will lean into that connection, and I will thrive.

How wonderful the scent of fresh Hyacinth in my room. I revel in it, in this moment, and in feeling the energy that connects me to everything else through this amazing smell. And this moment truly is enough. I am enough.

BLF: Three Bright Nights

This morning I did crawl back into bed, and with the magic we all take for granted, summoned a movie on Netflix. A beautiful but dismal movie with Ralph Fiennes, The Dig, that suited my quiet, inquisitive, nature. At eight I was up to make breakfast, but there was a little man sitting at the table  ahead of me while his parents bustled about in the kitchen making him pancakes. As chance would have it, we were both wearing our Christmas pajamas, and after we both spent a minute admiring them I was invited to sit.  A quick trip to the kitchen, and we ate a quiet breakfast together. Sort of. The ever present iPad was entertaining him as he ate, while I enjoyed just being there.  Really being there. The crunch of my buttered toast, the juicy flavourful sausages, and the bite of the blood orange that graced my plate. Enjoying such a rich and delicious breakfast, I was able to admire C's pancake without envy. 

The sky is a field of grey, plowed into rivulets that let through the silver light from the sun, so bright that I cannot do more than glance out my window in admiration before turning back to my screen.

I am grateful this morning for three Bright nights in a row. Thankful that I was able to continue my nightly conversations that are keeping me in bed and out of the kitchen. And hopeful that this new habit will see me on my way down the path of Bright Line Eating that has been stalled for the past year. Focusing on small daily habits is helping, embracing the idea that there really is only now, and spending time each day finding articles that help focus my inner-directives are all activities that are playing a part in this new attitude and work.

Because it is work, in it's own quiet way. Not a parade of grand intentions, but instead a gentle going forth armed with creative tools that have been formed by so many others who have traveled this road before me. Some of them before I was born, but only now coming to my attention in a way meaningful to my own personal journey. What is it they say, when you are ready to learn, a teacher will appear? Something like that. 

A small spark of joy ignites within me that after years of struggle, maybe I am finally ready. 

What a wonderful thought.

Today's Food:

b)  buttered toast, sausages, blood orange

l)  meatballs I made yesterday, 'spaghetti' sauce I also made, apple

d)  chopped salad w\ red kale, cauliflower, carrots & onions, chick peas, & bleu cheese

BLF: Another Bright Night and a Good Morning

It's been a while since I actually got up in the morning upon waking instead of climbing back into bed after visiting the loo. Maybe I am excited about having another Bright night, maybe my energy level is up, or my depression level is down. But for whatever reason I am up, my bed is made, and I am contemplating a shower.  It's just one day, and I will try not to over analyze it. Even as I type the chill of the room is compelling me to move; to either dress or get in the shower.

Last night was another parts conversation with my three protectors, but even after that I ended up in the kitchen for a moment of contemplation. The thought that drove me back to bed? That it was just too much of a bother to figure out what to eat, and then telling my body to head back to the bedroom. So not a magic trick, just being aware enough to be using all the tools at my disposal.

I'm looking forward to rice & beans at 8am, and a fruit salad of kiwi, banana,  orange and blueberries. Eating my food in an 8 hour window is working fine. I do get a little hungry in the mornings, but it's just a feeling and not stressful at all. In the evenings I am back at my little desk, sipping a night time herbal tea, and working here at my computer for hours instead of out in the living room and tempted by snacking. So I'm  distracted and isolated from the kitchen until bedtime. A little more belly grumbling as I ready myself to sleep for the night, but I just reassure myself this is a sign of progress. It evokes s a memory of when I first started Bright Line Eating a year ago this past October, when I would come in and lie down to watch tv before bed, and actually enjoy the feeling of hunger as I knew it meant I was losing weight.

Speaking of weight, I was up point 4 on the scale this morning, and I am really looking forward to this month of daily weighing to be over. I would rather just enjoy the feeling of being a little lighter this morning instead of trying to analyze what that means in light of the scale insisting that I am heavier. Fluctuating is normal for me, and I'm hoping that come February I will put the scale in the garage for awhile. Maybe a month, maybe forever, depending on how next month goes without this unwelcome stick hanging over my head. I want to follow the plan, trust in the Bright Lines, stick to the intermittent fasting, and see what happens.

And that's a good sign, the curiosity, a very good sign. Because for those who don't know, being curious comes from our authentic selves, and to me indicates mental health, which is a great sight better than the crazy land I so often inhabit when it comes to my weight.

So I end the week grateful for this morning's energy,  and even more grateful for the peace of mind I am enjoying. Not to say there isn't a little food chatter still going on, but the calm of watching myself follow a plan and giving it a chance to work. As they like to say in BLE, "You've Got This!"

And this morning I really believe that I do.

More Light than Dark

We have a new President! Glued to the TV all morning, and watching the pomp and circumstance of installing our new leaders, was so uplifting. It was perfect, from Lady Gaga's rendition of our national anthem to the youth poet laureate who encapsulated our times and challenges and dreams so beautifully. I cried, I rejoiced, and I felt a million pounds lift off of my shoulders. Weight I was aware of, but had become so accustomed to carrying around I had forgotten how it was weighing me down.  Maybe it was contributing to my apparent ongoing depression, maybe now I can shrug off that debilitating mantle of despair and start connecting to my life again.

Because the world feels different. Listening to a man speak truth to power instead of watching a coward try to manipulate with lies was joyful. Encouraging. Uplifting. My god, what we have put up with for four long years is crazy now to reflect back on. So I won't. Instead I look forward to watching our government put America back on the world stage; to contribute to and to learn from our comrades around the world. To scrub away the tarnish of ignorance and let democracy shine in the world again. Big Sigh. Enough.

C and I went on a great walk today; running from tigers, leaving our foot prints in sand hills, and practicing watching for moving cars. He really keeps me in 'the now', and for that I am grateful every day.  Despite his treatment having been just yesterday, he's having a pretty good day today, and for that I am grateful too.

It's been a Bright day all around so far, and I'm looking forward to a Bright night. The pattern seems to be one off and one on, which is far better than eating every night! And each day I do inner work; listening to webinars, vlogs, and Ted talks for inspiration I take notes and figure out how everything relates to me. 

Because I am not content to just give up. No matter how dark that little seed at the core of me, there is much light to counter that old, sad narrative of failure. I will overcome this, I will heal, I will continue to be unstoppable.

BLE: On Being Unstoppable

Yesterday was not as awful as the day before, and today will be Bright. I lay in bed this morning luxuriating in the feel of warm flannel sheets against my bare skin,  and began my day with steady breathing and meditation. Next I weighed in and was unsurprised to see a gain; up one and a half pounds from the start of daily weighing just after Christmas. My internal, ever present calculator knows I now have another couple of weeks to tip the scales in the correct direction; I am after all the Queen of Maintenance. Which will be great once I am at goal weight, which I am NOT.

Dressed and in the kitchen I found myself fantasizing about harvest grain pancakes; cutting a golden triangle of nuttiness just dripping with butter and BLAM, I had the sense to stop the vision, and ask myself how I want to feel tomorrow morning. Disappointed or Delighted. I chose Delighted and weighed out my oatmeal, flax, pecans and cream cheese and warmed it all up in the microwave. And had a banana.

Lunch was meatballs with roasted onions & cabbage and part of a large Asian pear. Just before lunch I had started a batch of veggies in the instant pot (bok choy, onion, red & yellow peppers, mushrooms, and lots of carrots) and after lunch used them with the rest of the beans left over from last week to pack up some more meals.  There are still containers of left over veggies (two kinds) and meatballs (spicy and full of allspice and nutmeg) that are ready to combine into more quick and delicious meals next week.

The only food prep left today are the raw veggies for salads, but my back has been used up for now and they will have to wait for this afternoon.

Taking a quick look at my paper journal I see that I am at about 50% for filling out my nightly check list - still working on consistency there - and  then I take the time to read some of my heartfelt notes from over the past year plus since I begai Bright Line Eating.

"Define your journey in a way that serves you." "Do the next right thing." "The simple truths are self evident in everything." I find comfort in the fact that my own true self resonates to the truth of these words. I find comfort in the reality that everyday I am making the attempt to know myself better, and in doing so finding that hope remains alive and well at the core of who I am. No momentary rant or anger, no broken lines or frustration, will derail me from my purpose of finding freedom from the food obsession that has twisted and warped my life. I am unstoppable.

The Split Brain

I spent the early hours of this morning first meditating from the warmth and comfort of my bed, and then listening to a webinar about the split brain. I am such an idiot. Of course I now know that the preceding comment was generated by the left hemisphere (LH) of my brain to explain the emotions of my right hemisphere (RH), and that it has nothing to do with reality because I know that I am in fact NOT an idiot.

Here is a nice little summary page from the webinar. The webinar is on Internal Conflict and, guess what, called the "2am Syndrome". OMG, this is what I have been looking for, and the whole time it was in the bonus materials of my BLE boot camp. Part of the material I just never got around to looking at a year ago.MY BAD!!

And now C wants to go get a donut, and he hasn't had an appetite yet this morning so I am off to oblige him. "As you wish", I tell him. And if you don't know the reference, shame on you.

We are back, and I have left him cheerfully eating his blueberry muffin in front of the tv while he watches Coco Melon so that I may have a few moments to myself and finish this up.

The webinar says that most of us identify with our LH, but looking at the list I feel I relate more to my RH. In anycase, I am not yet to the part where he teaches us how to reconcile our different halves, or personalities, in order to find peace. That is the part I will get to if/when C goes down for his nap today.

It's interesting that this happens on the same morning I decide to forego my meditation bench, and just stay in bed to meditate. I practiced mindful breathing, I chanted my mantra for a bit, I let thoughts pass by and continued to breath. At one point I felt different, I felt a sort of energy bubble form and dissipate within me, and for just that moment I felt ... like I had arrived somewhere. And on the heels of that I thought it was time to get up, and began thinking about what my next course of action might be on this BLE journey. And it came to me, look at the boot camp materials and find the coaching calls by Dr. Joy.  Of course while that was my goal, instead I found this, and it just feels serendipitous that after an attempt to center myself I am led to find another piece of the puzzle that is me. 

Going to the kitchen to prepare some strawberry milk for C, I notice the remnants of his muffin on the cutting board, and wish as I always do that my daytime fortitude would continue into the night. Because during the day there is no question of taking a bit of something that is probably absolutely delicious, while at night I would even eat cardboard in the guise of a brown rice cake just to make my inner demon shut the F up.

My dream and my hope this morning is that by the end of the webinar I will have some more answers, another tool at least, to solve my 2am syndrome. From my lips to god's ears!

And my few minutes are up.

Bright Line Eating: New Action Plan

As I wrote down my weight this morning I also added a note, MUST MEDITATE. This has long been on my mind, literally years, and my group mates all do it first thing in the morning. After writing the words, the idea of starting this morning glanced off my grey cells and was deflected off into the nether lands by the pain that starts each of my days. There is no way I am getting down onto my beautiful little meditation bench right now. But today, instead of that being the end of it, I have made the decision to meditate later in the day. It doesn't have to be the same time every day, it just has to have a grounding event. Today I will meditate when C goes down for his nap. This makes sense as it will work M-F as well as weekends & holidays. He is only three, maybe by the time he grows out of naps, my body will be recovered enough to find a different time of day to meditate, but this works for now.

But I need to have a morning ritual, and I've decided to sit down to write once I have put the kettle on for my tea each morning. And since I will be writing at the beginning of my day, I can also commit my food. It may be specific, or just what's on deck for prep, but it will be a positive affirmation for keeping to my Bright Lines.

Then I will need to change my evening ritual since I won't be journaling before bed, and I can start by implementing another component of this program that I have attempted before,  but have never followed through on, and start using my nightly check list. Thus far there are only five items on it, but as I go through my day and think about it and look on my original list I am sure I will add more before printing off the new list that I will start using tonight. And I will format it for only a week, as it may change again; using the list needs to be consistent, but not what I am checking off. 1. Journal 2. Bright Lines 3. Meditate 4. Went Outside.  Pretty simple, one would think, and why would I have to be accountable for such obvious actions? Because I want to be accountable for doing them every day without exception, and science shows that we are more likely to follow through if we record\track our behavior. And lord knows my behavior needs to change if I am going to succeed. Because I want to be going out even if it's cold, or raining, or I'm just being lazy. I spend too many hours playing Animal Crossing when I should be up and doing things.

Because Bright Line Eating isn't just about not eating sugar & flour. It's not just about weighing our food and eating only at meal times. There is a whole program that supports being able to stick to the four Bright Lines, and despite my desperation to succeed, I haven't been following the whole program, just the lines. And that has to change, I have to step up. Or rather, I have to finally come all the way in and sit all the way down.

This morning instead of just saying I am going to do that, I am taking steps to make sure it happens. Part of the program is to have morning and evening routines, another part is to meditate, and these are the three things I am focusing on this morning. To put actions behind my intentions. Dreams don't come true if we don't put in the work. That's right, parts work, that will be number five on my list. Taking a moment each day to be curious about my feelings and the parts that are generating them. See, already up to five on the list.

Taking a moment to make my tea, I was in the kitchen and realized that in order to check Bright Lines off my nightly check list about 8pm every night, then my day needs to have started at 8pm the night before. Which actually makes sense; Susan says our day really starts the night before when we commit our food for the next day. Obviously something I won't be doing in light of the changes made above as I will be committing my food in the morning, but my day can still start then. And I do go to bed each night knowing what my breakfast options are. But I can't commit to cheese and crackers and then wake up with an urge to have oatmeal. I know after over a year that eating one thing while wanting another just wakes up my rebel who will wreak havoc that day. No, better for me to know there is oatmeal ready to heat up, and cheese available in the fridge so that I'm not actually having to decide which to have, but being able to follow my desire for breakfast come the morning.

Such simple changes, but it's feeling like a lot to me at the moment, and I'm getting hungry. So off I go.

Todays Food:

B: Eggs over easy on potato, melon

L: Pazole from the taqueria! Weighed, measured, and delicious

D:  Roast & gorgonzola salad, artichoke dressing

Today I need to inventory the fridges and plan food for the next few days. Then I can tell you all about it tomorrow.

Christmas Cookies, Soup, and Addiction

I had forgotten about the planned holiday baking the girls were doing today, so the cooking of my soup will have to wait until tomorrow. Instead for dinner I had a luscious green salad, left over meatballs, and splurged on potato for my vegetable; sneaking potatoes into the microwave was much less intrusive in our small galley kitchen and I do love me some potato. 

It will be irritating to go back to work tomorrow after four days off, but I remember I am grateful for my job and the irritation slides off my shoulders; butter off of a hot knife. I'll be able to split my day and work more than usual in the morning since C is going in for treatment. This will also keep my mind off the hospital, and my little grandson being injected with the poison that is saving his life. BIG SIGH.

Tomorrow's food:

B: Oatmeal, pitted fresh cherries, cream cheese, flax, & pecans

L: Sausage, lentils, corn & peas, oranges

D: Black eyed pea\veggie soup - extra veggies instead of salad

The Christmas sugar cookies that were sitting next to me on the dining room table as I pitted cherries this evening didn't really tempt me at all. And they were so pretty, all iced and ready to pack up. They also made gingerbread cookies, fudge, mini-chocolate Bundt cakes, and R is in the kitchen now cooking up a batch of  English toffee. Pretty tins are ready to be filled, and a cousin is dropping by tomorrow afternoon to exchange goodies. The ones we receive will live in the garage so they are not on the kitchen counter. While I feel I can withstand the temptation, I am worried it will use up so much will power that it might instigate night eating, so we will take precautions.

Speaking of Christmas, I am missing one shipment that I hope will arrive before Christmas. I can barely imagine the deliveries this year with so many of us ordering presents online due to Covid. And compared to past seasons of giving, we have cut back quite a bit. It's a good thing, we all agree. It's just not the same browsing online as it is meandering through a small shop in town and finding just the right thing for someone on your list.

It was a productive day, and the two tubs and a crate of miscellanea have been sorted, then purged or packed away. I'm a little melancholy this evening, some of the items were memories I could do without. One in particular, the personal inventory my late husband made while in one of his many twelve-step recovery centers, we have plans to burn in the fire pit out back. Or maybe just the fireplace if this cold snap continues. But the history it reveals of how early his drug & alcohol use began, and the continuing use through our marriage and the raising of our kids, is so very disheartening. I mean, I knew he wasn't coming home after work, obviously, but I didn't realize he had been using heroin for fourteen years before we divorced. I thought it was just beer and codeine. But no, that was just the tip of the iceberg that sank us. And really, just beer and codeine? How co-dependent was I???

Deep Breath! Blowing out hard!  Feel the pain, let go of the story, embrace a new vision.

I am so grateful for my healthy daughter, for the grandkids that bring love and challenges into my life everyday, and for my SIL working his own program and being present for his family. So very grateful.

So I close on a positive note, and dream of a generation that is not plagued by addiction.