I was really struggling with having all that extra time to evaluate everything. It made me think about things that are best left alone. I've done some hard work on myself these past few weeks. I'm still reeling in a lot of ways (mentally) from being so ill. I am thankful every single day I'm no longer in that place. I remember it all so vividly - from the terrible night sweats, to the debilitating constipation, the fatigue, and the depression, etc. that enveloped me for so many months. It's still hard to understand how a potassium deficiency could have done all of that, but it sure the hell did. Anyway, I have developed a real fear of it happening again. I have this irrational fear that little things will harm me (pushing myself too hard, etc). You'd think having all of this so close to me, I'd really be on top of my diet. Sadly, I'm not. More than anything , I know I should be - need to be. The deficiency wasn't caused by my diet, but I'm certainly not helping myself with the way I've been eating. It's like I have tapeworm. I find myself once again, telling myself that I'll get back to it on Monday. I know one doesn't need to wait for Monday - that's a trap. Still, I'm making a million excuses in my head. The free time only feeds all of these thoughts.
There has been some good that's come out of the extra time. I've really focused on what I want out of this life and how to get there. Clearly, I'm failing in epic proportions with the diet, but I've thought a lot about writing. The last professional edit on the book was 2 1/2 years ago. I know the reasons, I stepped away from it - coming and going in small moments since then, and I simply couldn't live and breathe it the way I needed to. It is a lot of fucking work, and it's not something one can do half-heartedly or while feeling defeated or waning in confidence. Thankfully, the extra time lately, convinced me I needed to make it a priority. I finally finished this edit - 2 1/2 years later. I still have a lot of work to do before it will be ready for another professional edit, but I feel good about it. I forgot how much I love the characters and the story. I see it all in my head again, and see what I need to do. I'm willing to spend the time to get there.
I also thought a lot about this blog. I do love it, but writing when I'm failing at my diet, is really difficult. There's nothing like publicizing what a loser I feel like. Still, I'll be true to it. I too, am proud of this thing. It's also necessary for me. It's the way I get things out. I work really hard on trying to really be there in my friendships, but I'm shutdown, and I can't seem to escape that. My therapist thinks it's not healthy - not confiding in friends, etc. I know it's important, and those things were always so easy for me. I honestly don't know why I can't seem to do it. I try, but I won't force it. One day. So, this blog is the place I talk about all of this. For some reason, it's just easier.
Brian and the boys went out to Washington to visit family and friends, for a week and a half. I would have gone, but I had just started the new job. They really had a great time. I'm sorry I couldn't experience it with them. It was really good for me, though, too. When I talk about having too much time, I'm not talking about them being gone - being at home was easy (just being slow at work that gets me). I always seem to be running everywhere, and my time doesn't ever seem to belong to me. It was such a strange sensation, making my own decisions about how to spend my time. At first, it was overwhelming. I've been alone, very little in my life. I've been with Brian since I was young (26 years together, last Sun actually), and I've always taken care of him - then him and the boys. Just thinking of me was something that I haven't done much of in my life. I have to say….I really enjoyed it. I cleaned, and it would stay clean. I cooked what I wanted, and ate out with friends. I watched what I wanted on t.v. I worked a lot on the book. I did projects that I'd been asking Brian to do forever and felt a real satisfaction and doing those things. I'm almost scared that I enjoyed it all too much…haha. I used to never be able to handle being alone well. It's nice to know that I've grown out of that.
I wrote a blog a couple of weeks ago, but I didn't publish it. Mostly, because I had all of that time on my hands, and I talked about some deep shit. Nobody wants to hear that, and I don't need to expose every part of me - especially all of the parts I don't like about myself. Anyway, I did want to share this part (which is just how fucked I am, choosing to share this part of it, ha) :
The relationship between diet and health really became evident yesterday as I quite unexpectedly pissed myself. Yeah, you read that right. I thought, Oh I need to head to the restroom, and all of a sudden, it just started coming out of me. There was nothing I could do. After having two kids, and when I was super heavy, there were emergencies and a lot of close calls – Oh, and God forbid you sneeze – but this was a first. To just have it happen and happen to the extent that I have to dry myself in the restroom while holding my leg in the air with the hand dryers, was a complete shock. I couldn’t understand why it happened. All day I was wracking my brain, and then Captain Obvious hit me upside the head – it was my breakfast choice. I’ve been really good about drinking my smoothies for breakfast lately, until yesterday. There’s usually not an in-between with my breakfast decisions (or any for that matter), I’m mostly good or mostly bad. Being the new person, I stopped by to buy the team doughnuts yesterday morning. This didn’t mean, I needed to eat any – I mean, until recently I hadn’t eaten one for 1 ½ years. I skipped my smoothie and bought myself a slice of breakfast pizza (and later had 2 cake doughnuts as well…), but the kicker was: a 32 oz Diet Coke. In an effort to get away from pop, I’d at least quit the Diet Coke. Pepsi has been my drink of choice, each day as I think, this is the last one. Because I started counting calories again this week (even the really bad ones), I went back to Diet. That’s what did it. Diet soda is the fucking devil. I had realized before that it messed with my bladder. I’ve been reminded once again, and hopefully for the last time. Really, the situation could have been catastrophic: people could have seen me. It was very apparent what happened. It was all preventable. Diet soda fucks with my bladder and is terrible for my skin. Lesson learned for the millionth time. Stay away from the crack.
-Thankfully, I haven't had one since. Gawd, throwing my leg in the air, while pulling my pants out to hold under the dryer, all the while praying nobody walked in is something I won't get over for a while.
Having the extra time, has been a good exercise in reminding myself that I am the only one that's responsible for my own choices, decisions, and happiness. I've been a little down this week, but today is the first day of my period. I know what's causing it. I'm making decisions to help get through it. Tonight, that means, playing Pandora in the background, while sipping a glass of wine and writing. After being sick, I've very aware things if I'm off at all. When I start to get off (that's what she said), it always scares me, because I remember being sick and how bad that was. I have to remind myself that I'm no longer ill, and this is just something that everyone goes through to some extent or another. It's a relief to going into it knowing it's normal, bearable and will be short lived. I choose to learn from all of this and to build upon it.
Last Friday, a friend and I saw Brandi Carlisle in concert. It's only fairly recently that I've really come to know and appreciate her music. She's now among my very favorites. I hadn't been to a concert in quite some time, and it will be the first of many this year. I feel as alive at a concert as I do zip lining. (which I also plan to do more of). Anyway, I'll leave you with the Story. You probably know this song, and there are many others I could add, but with lyrics like this, it had to be - And all of my friends who think I'm blessed. They don't know my head's a mess. No, they don't know who I really am. And they don't know what I've been through like you do. And I was made for you.
Please keep my friend Joanne and her Dad in your prayers tonight. She's one of us, and she lost her mom last night. I know she'll appreciate your good thoughts and prayers.
Have a wonderful night and weekend,