We know what those are. It is the beginning of (have to look it up) a time in history "...marked by notable events or particular characteristics." Thank you Google. That is it. I just could not put it into my own words. History is not just the world-thing, we have our own epochs, with significant things that happen to us. Maybe beginning a family, or moving on our own to a new city or country. Starting a career or being a grandparent. Maybe even when someone dies. Like when we lose something and have to find a way to move on.
My most recent one, epoch-wise, began on that day I left. Maybe it started before that, I just do not know. Maybe at the beginning of the hundred days project. Maybe it was something just before that, something that put me on the path to all of the changes. You know, that liminal moment when you cross the threshold into whatever is on the other side. I almost always see them after they happen. Sometimes it is held in moments, other times I have to look back into my past to search for them.
The only reason I am thinking of this today is that Yahoo! had an article about a visual aid that, I think, Nature published, shows what a revolving earth more than four billion might have looked like. I know nothing about science or astronomy or physics, but I love them so much. Even if I never learn anything substantive about any of that, I am informed over and over again. I really am not articulate enough to express how much science means to me. I think sometimes that it must be because it is what it is. It changes when those who do science learn new things, make new discoveries, but in that moment it is truth in a way not nothing else approaches.
So, I saw that image today and it quietly left me breathless, thinking about that distant past and my own and all of our pasts.
This week and last week I have done things I could never imagined myself capable. I feel confident in, well, it is kind of weird. I do not feel powerful or that I am inspiring myself to do more adventurous things, but whilst I am not capable of doing anything, I do have the ability to do more than I thought I could. I was full of adrenaline when the breaking-in happened, and I held on to that feeling for a couple of days, but now, I have that same quiet and breathless feeling that I got when seeing that gif this afternoon.
It is nice and I would like to be supportive of those feelings in what I choose or decline to do. You know, that is the particular path I feel that I am on now. I feel persuaded to consciousness about whatever I am doing, even the time I will be spending with my friend that I help. And, there is this kind of responsibility to no only pay attention, but to avoid missing whatever might be important in even the little things we will do together today.
BREAKFAST
nuts - these are so filling and taste good, and as long as i do not eat too many, healthy
LUNCH
apple
pineapple slices and the juice
DINNER
is yet to come, but I am planning on a nice piece of fish, roasted vegetables and salad, as well as planning to eat all of it. I will not be bringing leftovers home. I might even have a wee glass of wine.
Edited to add:
DINNER
3 bowls of soup
2 plates of salad
3 bread sticks
2 diet colas
Olive Garden
I rarely get to choose where my friend and I will go for a meal. Truth is that I rarely choose anything we do. She tries to bribe me, keep me beholden to her, by buying my meal. However, I pay my way. So, there.
If she had other resources, I would abandon her to them in a heartbeat. I like her very much, but she does not treat people nicely. The people I mean are wait staff, clerks, sales people, cashiers. When that happens, as it did twice today, I say something.
If you choose to let your entree go cold because you want to fill up on soup and salad and breadsticks so that you are, in effect, getting two meals for the price of one, and you are rude to the waitress because you complain about the pasta being hard, it is because you let it set there and I will, when you look at me to solicit me to agree with you, what you will hear is that your food probably would be more pliable if it were still warm. I do it with a smile, you know, just trying to be helpful and all that, but satire aside, I do it in support of the poor working girl you are bullying.
And, yet, she still had the nerve to ask for the meal to be packed up, extra sauce added and for a box of bread sticks to be added. It does not help anything that she under tips. I just settle there and make sure that I pay for my own meal and tip at least 75% of my total bill. That along with an apology is the least I can do.
I do not even want to write about what she did to the cashier at the grocery store. Sigh. I always feel guilty about how relieved I am when she leaves town to visit her children. My guess is that she behaves the same way when she is with them.
I used to just leave a big tip and let it go at that, but I seem unable to stop myself from trying to make amends to the people she treats rudely.
And, yet, my own behavior is just as lacking. I was reminded of a responsibility that I have neglected for many weeks. Truth is that I totally forgot about it, and being out of town, I cannot rectify my crappy behavior until Monday at the earliest.
It is so much easier to see the flaws in another person than it is to recognize the exact same crap in ourselves. This is probably where the notion of not throwing the first stone originated.
I throw stones. And, I act like I know it all, I act like a pompous know-it-all. You know, if that sort of thing does not shame me, nothing will. I do feel ashamed. I do know that I need to keep my mouth out of her business, hell, anyone's business.
There is this kind of belief that I am holding that because I did not have a voice for most of my life, that I have some responsibility to use it now. I can do that, but not at the expense of another person, not at the cost of shaming them. Good manners is the practice of not doing anything or saying anything about the poor manners of someone else. Good manners is keeping your mouth shut. Good manners is not correcting anyone else.
This afternoon and early evening I did not have good manners.
Identify what is most important )0( Eliminate everything else
The idea that some lives matter less is the root of all that is wrong with the world. Dr. Paul Farmer
The suffering of others is not alleviated when no one knows about it.
There is no one right way to live. Daniel Quinn Ishmael
The only thing that you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right sort of people.
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be. Kurt Vonnegut
The idea that some lives matter less is the root of all that is wrong with the world. Dr. Paul Farmer
The suffering of others is not alleviated when no one knows about it.
There is no one right way to live. Daniel Quinn Ishmael
The only thing that you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right sort of people.
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be. Kurt Vonnegut
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Day 24
I wonder if I will stick with this as long as the 100 day project from two years ago. That was part of the preparation for leaving that other life, although I had no idea that it was back then. At the time it was a way to concentrate on something for a hundred days. Whatever this is, I hope that there is something great at the end and that it does not take an additional year to show up.
BREAKFAST
I awoke hungry, until I was up and about. Then, my appetite went somewhere without me, so I had a cup or so of my nut mix.
LUNCH
1/4 pound of baked ham, fat removed
After I ate the nuts, I went to the refrigerator and the only things in there were/are a bunch of condiments, most of a carton of eggs, 3 apples and a ham. So, I baked the ham and had a few more nuts along with a square of chocolate.
The ham was pre-cooked, but I remember from ages ago, when I last bought a ham, that they taste better when they are baked. So, that is what I did, and it was ready by lunchtime.
DINNER
a bunch of small ham slices, heated in a frying pan with a can of sauerkraut on top
That was good, except for the part about forgetting that there was still half of it in the pan.
I will grocery shop when I take my friend out to do something with her accountant, have an early dinner and take her shopping.
I did not waste any meat this week, but a few vegetables went into the trash in the past few days. I am doing a respectable job of using the food I buy, and hope to keep getting better at that. It was easier when I was buying mostly fruit, during my fruit binge buying, as that never went to waste, but you cannot eat just fruit and salad, as I found out.
I have no idea what to buy and will wait to see what is on sale. The market she likes is too expensive for me, but I always buy stuff there because I am already there. The meat is very good. Very unlike the discount market meat and these recent trips to her favorite market have been a strain on my budget, with those higher prices, but the meat purchases have made it difficult to go back to the quality of meat I was buying. I feel guilty buying the better meat. I just do.
I meet with my spiritual adviser in the morning. It continues to amaze me that I have a spiritual adviser and that I am going to church once in a while, although the church part is not all that connected to the tender explorations I have with Sister.
I never know what we will talk about, not even when I meet her. It all just happens, mostly interesting and forward moving stuff, but there will come a time when I and the process will become redundant. I know that. My hope is that I actually have a spiritual practice that means something to me before that happens.
I am hoping to finish Sue Monk Kidd's, The Invention of Wings tonight before I fall asleep. At midnight, just a half-hour from now, it will be overdue at the library. I need to finish it for the next person waiting in the queue to read it and I need to find a used copy for myself, because I need to read it again, as soon as possible.
I have this fistful of books that I re-read nearly every year, and this book of Sue's has become one of them. I liked The Secret Life of Bees, very much, but this book, it is speaking to some vital part of me, not so much my heart, but some little place inside that does not have a name. I know it is there, that part. I can feel it respond when I am reading. That part inside me takes in the words as I read, fetching them from my eyes and brain and folding all of it into something that makes the kind of sense I need right now, sense for which I am in such need.
It supports my work and it just might be the next step in whatever I am supposed to do. I knew that I liked it from the beginning and I thought that I should read her other two books. Now they have to wait until I re-read this one.
This same thing happened to me when I first fell upon Alice Walker. And, Margaret Atwood. Harper Lee, George Orwell, Poe, Kurt Vonnegut. Those and the others who live on the shelf at the head of my bed, their dusty covers shedding the stuff that kept me alive in that other life and which feeds me now. I wish it would also help me be a better housekeeper, but I guess you cannot have everything.
BREAKFAST
I awoke hungry, until I was up and about. Then, my appetite went somewhere without me, so I had a cup or so of my nut mix.
LUNCH
1/4 pound of baked ham, fat removed
After I ate the nuts, I went to the refrigerator and the only things in there were/are a bunch of condiments, most of a carton of eggs, 3 apples and a ham. So, I baked the ham and had a few more nuts along with a square of chocolate.
The ham was pre-cooked, but I remember from ages ago, when I last bought a ham, that they taste better when they are baked. So, that is what I did, and it was ready by lunchtime.
DINNER
a bunch of small ham slices, heated in a frying pan with a can of sauerkraut on top
That was good, except for the part about forgetting that there was still half of it in the pan.
I will grocery shop when I take my friend out to do something with her accountant, have an early dinner and take her shopping.
I did not waste any meat this week, but a few vegetables went into the trash in the past few days. I am doing a respectable job of using the food I buy, and hope to keep getting better at that. It was easier when I was buying mostly fruit, during my fruit binge buying, as that never went to waste, but you cannot eat just fruit and salad, as I found out.
I have no idea what to buy and will wait to see what is on sale. The market she likes is too expensive for me, but I always buy stuff there because I am already there. The meat is very good. Very unlike the discount market meat and these recent trips to her favorite market have been a strain on my budget, with those higher prices, but the meat purchases have made it difficult to go back to the quality of meat I was buying. I feel guilty buying the better meat. I just do.
I meet with my spiritual adviser in the morning. It continues to amaze me that I have a spiritual adviser and that I am going to church once in a while, although the church part is not all that connected to the tender explorations I have with Sister.
I never know what we will talk about, not even when I meet her. It all just happens, mostly interesting and forward moving stuff, but there will come a time when I and the process will become redundant. I know that. My hope is that I actually have a spiritual practice that means something to me before that happens.
I am hoping to finish Sue Monk Kidd's, The Invention of Wings tonight before I fall asleep. At midnight, just a half-hour from now, it will be overdue at the library. I need to finish it for the next person waiting in the queue to read it and I need to find a used copy for myself, because I need to read it again, as soon as possible.
I have this fistful of books that I re-read nearly every year, and this book of Sue's has become one of them. I liked The Secret Life of Bees, very much, but this book, it is speaking to some vital part of me, not so much my heart, but some little place inside that does not have a name. I know it is there, that part. I can feel it respond when I am reading. That part inside me takes in the words as I read, fetching them from my eyes and brain and folding all of it into something that makes the kind of sense I need right now, sense for which I am in such need.
It supports my work and it just might be the next step in whatever I am supposed to do. I knew that I liked it from the beginning and I thought that I should read her other two books. Now they have to wait until I re-read this one.
This same thing happened to me when I first fell upon Alice Walker. And, Margaret Atwood. Harper Lee, George Orwell, Poe, Kurt Vonnegut. Those and the others who live on the shelf at the head of my bed, their dusty covers shedding the stuff that kept me alive in that other life and which feeds me now. I wish it would also help me be a better housekeeper, but I guess you cannot have everything.
now my ethics are p......
Just received a reply. Apparently I was not the teeniest bit successful is sharing how important it is for me to support our women. Although it could have been much worse. Her reply to me was:
I will consider you removed from this project.
Could be worse. Really. This should be breaking my heart a wee bit; instead I am not exactly giggling, but I am smiling. I believe that I might very well have written the same thing as she has.
I certainly do not want you to go against your beliefs.
Could be worse. Really. This should be breaking my heart a wee bit; instead I am not exactly giggling, but I am smiling. I believe that I might very well have written the same thing as she has.
ethics are a pain in my personal southern hemisphere
My southern hemisphere has been giving me pause for months now, of the lower-intestinal distress nature. But, that is another, even more disgusting story than I usually share.
So. I asked for clarification about the art project proposed for women who have experienced domestic abuse. This is only my opinion, but were I asked to participate under the process that has been set up, I would feel potentially exploited, absolutely traumatized and re-traumatized and I would probably say something along the thoughts of that I would think about it. Then, I would procrastinate, be passively non-committal and not do it. And, all during the process, and afterwards, I would feel badly about myself. For feeling icky about being part of it, for not being able to pull my big girl panties and just do it, and for feeling as though I was not the only person I let down by not doing it.
I received the answers I needed and replied with my withdrawal from the project. It will be awkward seeing that person at work. I can live with that. I did my best to be supportive of the desires to provided this.
Given what I knew last week, I had made this decision then, just wanting to wait and see what the registration materials were going to be like. Even though the person who designed the project has many good ideas, she had shared enough of it to help me understand that I could not be part of it. I felt that I owed both of us to have all of the facts in print before quitting. I was simply waiting for that confirmation before sending the quitting e-mail to her. I understand that everyone is very busy and that e-mailing is the default communication. I wish that I could have had this last conversation about the project in person. Just saying.
So, I was ready with my reply. There was one shock when I read her reply to my questions. It seems that the women who participate, nearly all of whom have no art or crafting experience, and for whom this is a new and interesting process, have two choices in participating.
The first is that if their art sells they can give the sale price to the shelter as a donation.
Their second choice is to not offer the art for sale.
Period.
There is no option for selling their work and keeping the money for themselves. These are women who have practically nothing, and they are asked to put themselves and their experiences out to be seen and judged by strangers without any benefit to themselves.
Disgusting. Foul. Despicable. Horrible.
Insane.
I am just guessing, but the original plan had the exhibit held in a bar/restaurant, with at least 70% of the space devoted to the bar. At night.
Many of our women are still cautious and afraid of being out after dark, even when escorted by someone they trust, and there was not any accommodation being offered for the artists to have safe transportation. Not to mention the alcohol. Most of our women are either in recovery, struggling to stay in recovery or longing for recovery from their substance issues.
It was only after a fairly emotional conversation (mostly on my part) that the venue was changed to a regular art gallery. But, it is still at night and those who attend to view the art are allowed to bring their own wine and beer. But, it was the best compromise I could negotiate.
But, even though my decision had already been made, the fact that this was clearly designed to be a fund raiser for the shelter defies everything that I think our shelter holds sacred.
If my withdrawal...allrighty, let us call it what it is...quitting the project causes problems for me, even it if makes things awkward, I might have to invite myself to quit working there. I do not want to do that. I have invested everything I have into that work, that job. I would be a little bit broken if I find that I must leave. I have already shared all of this with my immediate supervisor and she assures me that all I have to do is the right thing. So, I am. Or, I had already done that, but it was nice to hear here say that.
This stuff is hard. Back in that other life all of my decisions were trying to do the right things for the right reasons whilst trying to stay unhurt. That danger is gone and I am left to be a big girl in all of this, and having to be able to present myself. Understanding how I feel is one thing, defending it is something entirely different.
I hope I was able to do that today.
So. I asked for clarification about the art project proposed for women who have experienced domestic abuse. This is only my opinion, but were I asked to participate under the process that has been set up, I would feel potentially exploited, absolutely traumatized and re-traumatized and I would probably say something along the thoughts of that I would think about it. Then, I would procrastinate, be passively non-committal and not do it. And, all during the process, and afterwards, I would feel badly about myself. For feeling icky about being part of it, for not being able to pull my big girl panties and just do it, and for feeling as though I was not the only person I let down by not doing it.
I received the answers I needed and replied with my withdrawal from the project. It will be awkward seeing that person at work. I can live with that. I did my best to be supportive of the desires to provided this.
Given what I knew last week, I had made this decision then, just wanting to wait and see what the registration materials were going to be like. Even though the person who designed the project has many good ideas, she had shared enough of it to help me understand that I could not be part of it. I felt that I owed both of us to have all of the facts in print before quitting. I was simply waiting for that confirmation before sending the quitting e-mail to her. I understand that everyone is very busy and that e-mailing is the default communication. I wish that I could have had this last conversation about the project in person. Just saying.
So, I was ready with my reply. There was one shock when I read her reply to my questions. It seems that the women who participate, nearly all of whom have no art or crafting experience, and for whom this is a new and interesting process, have two choices in participating.
The first is that if their art sells they can give the sale price to the shelter as a donation.
Their second choice is to not offer the art for sale.
Period.
There is no option for selling their work and keeping the money for themselves. These are women who have practically nothing, and they are asked to put themselves and their experiences out to be seen and judged by strangers without any benefit to themselves.
Disgusting. Foul. Despicable. Horrible.
Insane.
I am just guessing, but the original plan had the exhibit held in a bar/restaurant, with at least 70% of the space devoted to the bar. At night.
Many of our women are still cautious and afraid of being out after dark, even when escorted by someone they trust, and there was not any accommodation being offered for the artists to have safe transportation. Not to mention the alcohol. Most of our women are either in recovery, struggling to stay in recovery or longing for recovery from their substance issues.
It was only after a fairly emotional conversation (mostly on my part) that the venue was changed to a regular art gallery. But, it is still at night and those who attend to view the art are allowed to bring their own wine and beer. But, it was the best compromise I could negotiate.
But, even though my decision had already been made, the fact that this was clearly designed to be a fund raiser for the shelter defies everything that I think our shelter holds sacred.
If my withdrawal...allrighty, let us call it what it is...quitting the project causes problems for me, even it if makes things awkward, I might have to invite myself to quit working there. I do not want to do that. I have invested everything I have into that work, that job. I would be a little bit broken if I find that I must leave. I have already shared all of this with my immediate supervisor and she assures me that all I have to do is the right thing. So, I am. Or, I had already done that, but it was nice to hear here say that.
This stuff is hard. Back in that other life all of my decisions were trying to do the right things for the right reasons whilst trying to stay unhurt. That danger is gone and I am left to be a big girl in all of this, and having to be able to present myself. Understanding how I feel is one thing, defending it is something entirely different.
I hope I was able to do that today.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
23rd day of striving towards health
BREAKFAST
If you sleep until 11:30 a.m., there is no such meal.
LUNCH
I was not hungry, so between noon-ish and 4:00 p.m. I had:
bowl of chili
pickled vegetables
4 ounces of left-over steak
DINNER
bowl of chili
apple
The meat was difficult to eat. I wanted to stop after the first two bites, but I did manage to eat the whole piece. I really did take me those nearly four hours to eat that stuff.
This lack of hunger bothers me so, in between bits of eating, I researched lack of appetite in regards to dieting. The most frequent thing I found was that eating too few calories shoves you into that controversial starvation mode. It makes sense, but it has the ring of too easy of an excuse for a lot of things about cutting back on what we eat. I am not a scientist, just a science nerd, so what the heck do I know.
The web site that made the most sense to me was one with which I registered. Based on my weight and how responsibly, gradually and permanent I want my weight loss to be, I am supposed to be eating 2300 calories each day.
Hell, I did not eat that much when I was eating anything that did not move. My current weight certainly has a close relationship with savory things and anything that you can dip into it. Salty and crunchy are my all-time favorite things to eat, especially if you can put sour cream on them.
The bulk of my former diet was beans, legumes, seeds, grains and dark vegetables. Cutting out the carbohydrates left me hungry and frantic for food at times. I resisted and then almost immediately had trouble rousing my appetite.
I figured...still do, although today's reading has informed me otherwise...that if I am not hungry, then my body does not need food, which almost instantly brought back some memories.
Aside from over eating, I would not say, or believe, that I have any other eating disorder. Except that I now remember a year or more when I was intentionally not eating enough. I would pick at food, break it up, move it around the plate and clear my plate into the garbage as soon as I could.
I cannot believe that I had forgotten this stuff. It was about 26 years ago and was a time when I knew that I could not escape my marriage and all that meant and whilst I convinced myself that I was going to be more fit, slimmer and hopefully more attractive to my ex, and hopefully less hated as well, near the end I came to understand that I was trying to starve myself so that I could escape one way or the other. I only stopped because it meant that I would be leaving our child unprotected. The truth is that if I stayed there, he would concentrate on me and not her. The few times I went out for a lunch or an activity with friends, I would come home to hearing that if I had stayed home he would not be bothered by having to watch our daughter. He also told me that if I wanted to do anything outside the house that I had to beg him to do so. I thought he was joking (yes, that is how stupid I was) and he told me that every man wants that.
Oh, I can remember exactly how he said it and how he shifted his weight in his chair, the same thing he did later just before something bad happened. Is that when that physical shift started or just that I am remember it now. It was that movement that propelled me backwards out of the house that last day.
At that time of starving, it was as though I felt that eating was the only control I had in my life. As long as I cooked what he wanted, I could eat too. What a fucking mess. How did I survive all of that. What unobserved damage have I done to our daughter, my daughter. It is no wonder, no great stretch to imagine how greatly we have been damaged.
Well, here we are. I think that one of the best parts of having this now-new life is that I get to make amends with her. I get the chance to make everything that happens from now on be different and supportive and whilst there was so much love back then, love can shower over both of us. Heal us as much as that is possible.
Man, all I an trying to do is become more fit, more healthy and all this stuff is unearthed. I wonder how much more there is to be remembered. All I have to say is that it would be nice if the memories came rushing back on days when I am doing well.
Enough.
Where was I? Oh, yes, 2300 calories a day. I understand the reason for not cutting calories so drastically and I will try to eat more, even though I do not have an appetite.
I am finished with all of that wonderful, seasonal and cheap fruit, but the apple I ate for dinner was nice and crunchy and I felt absolutely no need to put sour cream on it. :)
I am going to keep snack-sized zipper bags of my nut mix around and will eat those, raw vegetables and apples during the day. All three of those can go with me wherever I wander, so I have no excuse for finding myself with only drive-through choices. Insanely, the drive-through item I want, crave, the most is those blended coffee drinks, all icy and sweet and delicious.
I will be walking to the shelter tomorrow to deliver research I did for one of the other advocates. I could drive, but I want to see if I can walk that bit-over-a-mile. I will be taking lots of meds beforehand, and taking lots of water with me. After last week's successes, I will be trying to convince myself to take on new challenges. Crapynappy, I cannot walk there. I have two other errands to take care of in the morning. No matter, there will be new opportunities.
I do not remember what I needed to write about today. Something. Maybe it was a though of something that brought me to the other stuff.
I do want to eat more food. It is healthier and it will help me lose weight more quickly and efficiently, although all of this is really not about the weight. Not so much. I want to get back the good health that I have enjoyed until recently, although it is clear that I have not appreciated and supported it the way I should have been doing. Interesting that I could get to this age with so little health and body stuff to worry me.
I am glad that I am taking these monthly weeks off from my library jobs. I need to have four days in a row to nap and do other things, as soon as I think of some things to do. I am planning to walk downtown on Wednesday. Return my library materials, sit in the square, get coffee from the sandwich place. Watch people, read, walk home. Spend more time on the porch. Just be outside these walls.
If you sleep until 11:30 a.m., there is no such meal.
LUNCH
I was not hungry, so between noon-ish and 4:00 p.m. I had:
bowl of chili
pickled vegetables
4 ounces of left-over steak
DINNER
bowl of chili
apple
The meat was difficult to eat. I wanted to stop after the first two bites, but I did manage to eat the whole piece. I really did take me those nearly four hours to eat that stuff.
This lack of hunger bothers me so, in between bits of eating, I researched lack of appetite in regards to dieting. The most frequent thing I found was that eating too few calories shoves you into that controversial starvation mode. It makes sense, but it has the ring of too easy of an excuse for a lot of things about cutting back on what we eat. I am not a scientist, just a science nerd, so what the heck do I know.
The web site that made the most sense to me was one with which I registered. Based on my weight and how responsibly, gradually and permanent I want my weight loss to be, I am supposed to be eating 2300 calories each day.
Hell, I did not eat that much when I was eating anything that did not move. My current weight certainly has a close relationship with savory things and anything that you can dip into it. Salty and crunchy are my all-time favorite things to eat, especially if you can put sour cream on them.
The bulk of my former diet was beans, legumes, seeds, grains and dark vegetables. Cutting out the carbohydrates left me hungry and frantic for food at times. I resisted and then almost immediately had trouble rousing my appetite.
I figured...still do, although today's reading has informed me otherwise...that if I am not hungry, then my body does not need food, which almost instantly brought back some memories.
Aside from over eating, I would not say, or believe, that I have any other eating disorder. Except that I now remember a year or more when I was intentionally not eating enough. I would pick at food, break it up, move it around the plate and clear my plate into the garbage as soon as I could.
I cannot believe that I had forgotten this stuff. It was about 26 years ago and was a time when I knew that I could not escape my marriage and all that meant and whilst I convinced myself that I was going to be more fit, slimmer and hopefully more attractive to my ex, and hopefully less hated as well, near the end I came to understand that I was trying to starve myself so that I could escape one way or the other. I only stopped because it meant that I would be leaving our child unprotected. The truth is that if I stayed there, he would concentrate on me and not her. The few times I went out for a lunch or an activity with friends, I would come home to hearing that if I had stayed home he would not be bothered by having to watch our daughter. He also told me that if I wanted to do anything outside the house that I had to beg him to do so. I thought he was joking (yes, that is how stupid I was) and he told me that every man wants that.
Oh, I can remember exactly how he said it and how he shifted his weight in his chair, the same thing he did later just before something bad happened. Is that when that physical shift started or just that I am remember it now. It was that movement that propelled me backwards out of the house that last day.
At that time of starving, it was as though I felt that eating was the only control I had in my life. As long as I cooked what he wanted, I could eat too. What a fucking mess. How did I survive all of that. What unobserved damage have I done to our daughter, my daughter. It is no wonder, no great stretch to imagine how greatly we have been damaged.
Well, here we are. I think that one of the best parts of having this now-new life is that I get to make amends with her. I get the chance to make everything that happens from now on be different and supportive and whilst there was so much love back then, love can shower over both of us. Heal us as much as that is possible.
Man, all I an trying to do is become more fit, more healthy and all this stuff is unearthed. I wonder how much more there is to be remembered. All I have to say is that it would be nice if the memories came rushing back on days when I am doing well.
Enough.
Where was I? Oh, yes, 2300 calories a day. I understand the reason for not cutting calories so drastically and I will try to eat more, even though I do not have an appetite.
I am finished with all of that wonderful, seasonal and cheap fruit, but the apple I ate for dinner was nice and crunchy and I felt absolutely no need to put sour cream on it. :)
I am going to keep snack-sized zipper bags of my nut mix around and will eat those, raw vegetables and apples during the day. All three of those can go with me wherever I wander, so I have no excuse for finding myself with only drive-through choices. Insanely, the drive-through item I want, crave, the most is those blended coffee drinks, all icy and sweet and delicious.
I will be walking to the shelter tomorrow to deliver research I did for one of the other advocates. I could drive, but I want to see if I can walk that bit-over-a-mile. I will be taking lots of meds beforehand, and taking lots of water with me. After last week's successes, I will be trying to convince myself to take on new challenges. Crapynappy, I cannot walk there. I have two other errands to take care of in the morning. No matter, there will be new opportunities.
I do not remember what I needed to write about today. Something. Maybe it was a though of something that brought me to the other stuff.
I do want to eat more food. It is healthier and it will help me lose weight more quickly and efficiently, although all of this is really not about the weight. Not so much. I want to get back the good health that I have enjoyed until recently, although it is clear that I have not appreciated and supported it the way I should have been doing. Interesting that I could get to this age with so little health and body stuff to worry me.
I am glad that I am taking these monthly weeks off from my library jobs. I need to have four days in a row to nap and do other things, as soon as I think of some things to do. I am planning to walk downtown on Wednesday. Return my library materials, sit in the square, get coffee from the sandwich place. Watch people, read, walk home. Spend more time on the porch. Just be outside these walls.
Monday, July 28, 2014
day 22 - captain's log
BREAKFAST
nothing, having chosen sleep over nourishment.
LUNCH
no time between therapy and group.
Mid-afternoon stop at the Chinese place. All healthy and just enough. If I could afford it, eating there would ensure enough calories a couple of times each week, making up for the days when I forget to eat. Or,I could just be more responsible.
Anyway, I am out on the porch, eating the bag of nut mixture I carry around now, finishing Mr. Mercedes (hoping this book will make it to the end without any of my favorite characters getting killed, feet up and enjoying this most wonderful day.
The air is light and slightly breezy and the temperature here in the shade is nearly perfect. I am not sore or feeling stiff and creaky, and it is only today that I realize how badly Friday might have gone, especially had I become stuck or been knocked senseless after diving through the window.
Well, you know what they say about fools...yeah, that pretty much sums me up.
And, poking away at this teeny keyboard is to much for even a daredevil. Cat burgled , turned secret agent like myself. It will be interesting to read this later and see any autofill I missed.
Oh, I almost adopted three kittens this afternoon.
nothing, having chosen sleep over nourishment.
LUNCH
no time between therapy and group.
Mid-afternoon stop at the Chinese place. All healthy and just enough. If I could afford it, eating there would ensure enough calories a couple of times each week, making up for the days when I forget to eat. Or,I could just be more responsible.
Anyway, I am out on the porch, eating the bag of nut mixture I carry around now, finishing Mr. Mercedes (hoping this book will make it to the end without any of my favorite characters getting killed, feet up and enjoying this most wonderful day.
The air is light and slightly breezy and the temperature here in the shade is nearly perfect. I am not sore or feeling stiff and creaky, and it is only today that I realize how badly Friday might have gone, especially had I become stuck or been knocked senseless after diving through the window.
Well, you know what they say about fools...yeah, that pretty much sums me up.
And, poking away at this teeny keyboard is to much for even a daredevil. Cat burgled , turned secret agent like myself. It will be interesting to read this later and see any autofill I missed.
Oh, I almost adopted three kittens this afternoon.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Day 21 - trying to eat more food
BREAKFAST
steak, quick and more like brunch-time, although my first meal of the day
3 ladles of chili
I wanted to eat salad, but I was full, and I am trying to respect what hunger really is, instead of just stuffing stuff down my throat because it tastes good.
I also cooked a second, larger steak and cut it in half for two more meals or snacks.
I no longer want that mindless and careless eating.
LUNCH
a bowl of chili, kind of medium sized
I have not made chili for a long time because I have been avoiding beans. I just had to have some today, and making some means that I did not have any chance to not get around to cooking the ground beef and end up wasting it.
I brought cherries and my nut mix to work, but never got to eat any of it. I did, however, get to lick the little lid of the frosting candy I bought for the kids from the Hispanic market. Good thing it had eighteen little packets, as all the women wanted candy, too. It was very sweet, pun totally intended, because they were just darling.
DINNER
10 or so ounces of pickled vegetables and a diet ginger ale.
When I finally got home a few minutes ago, I was sort of hungry, but nothing looked appetizing except for frozen Brussels sprouts, but it is too late to start cooking anything.
So, I am off to bed.
Oh, and that nice scrape on my side goes down to my leg, something I did not notice yesterday or Friday. I have lots of bruises on my arms, but many fewer than I expected. They are all on the really small size, and I have no idea what I could have landed on to have that happen. Even my knees feel less tender and I have not had all that much trouble walking up and down stairs, which I have to do whilst working in a three-story old building.
The bruise I expected to have on my upper chest, based on how much it hurt yesterday morning, did not manifest at all.
I have to say that I am feeling good. I feel strong and capable and can hardly wait to share the story in therapy tomorrow morning.
I called my daughter on Saturday, late afternoon, and told her about all of my adventures last week. The art show project, being asked to be in that brochure, fixing the broken brake light (without any help or a manual or anything) and then breaking into my house.
We chatted for a while and I then said that I had called for another reason, and she shrieked, oh god, what else did you do? But all I wanted was to drive up next Friday and offer to send them off for the night. We are going to do that, but before we signed off, she berated me for allowing the boys to watch a particular program. I said fine, but she would not let it go.
In the past, even the recent past, I would have left it at my apology, but not this time. She was snarky and about something that she and my son-in-law allow them to watch. I did not belabor the point, but at least I made it. If I do not begin to stand up to the stuff she says, I will lose my connection to keeping our relationship healthy, and just go off to lick my wounds because I am uncomfortable saying anything.
The truth is that any kind of similar conversation is beyond my comfort areas. I never talk back or argue, I never confront anyone much less offer a challenge. I despise drama, it frightens me. I will swallow any rude treatment, whilst backing up, both physically and metaphorically.
It is the pattern of my life, that other life, and habits are difficult to change. I would like to be more assertive, more self supporting. I would love that. I hope that I am making progress in that direction, it is just so slow going.
This is interesting, because I had no intention of writing about my daughter and the program issue. At work tonight, shortly before my shift ended, I had a conversation with one of our women about not allowing other women to speak rudely to her, to not allow them to tell her what to do, especially as concerns her children, who are very nice boys.
And, here I am, struggling with the exact same issues, nearly at the same level of dysfunction. No one is perfect. If they were, they would drive us crazy-ier. No one knows everything. We are all doing the best we can.
I saw a quote a few days ago. Stop doing what doesn't work. Why is that so hard.
steak, quick and more like brunch-time, although my first meal of the day
3 ladles of chili
I wanted to eat salad, but I was full, and I am trying to respect what hunger really is, instead of just stuffing stuff down my throat because it tastes good.
I also cooked a second, larger steak and cut it in half for two more meals or snacks.
I no longer want that mindless and careless eating.
LUNCH
a bowl of chili, kind of medium sized
I have not made chili for a long time because I have been avoiding beans. I just had to have some today, and making some means that I did not have any chance to not get around to cooking the ground beef and end up wasting it.
I brought cherries and my nut mix to work, but never got to eat any of it. I did, however, get to lick the little lid of the frosting candy I bought for the kids from the Hispanic market. Good thing it had eighteen little packets, as all the women wanted candy, too. It was very sweet, pun totally intended, because they were just darling.
DINNER
10 or so ounces of pickled vegetables and a diet ginger ale.
When I finally got home a few minutes ago, I was sort of hungry, but nothing looked appetizing except for frozen Brussels sprouts, but it is too late to start cooking anything.
So, I am off to bed.
Oh, and that nice scrape on my side goes down to my leg, something I did not notice yesterday or Friday. I have lots of bruises on my arms, but many fewer than I expected. They are all on the really small size, and I have no idea what I could have landed on to have that happen. Even my knees feel less tender and I have not had all that much trouble walking up and down stairs, which I have to do whilst working in a three-story old building.
The bruise I expected to have on my upper chest, based on how much it hurt yesterday morning, did not manifest at all.
I have to say that I am feeling good. I feel strong and capable and can hardly wait to share the story in therapy tomorrow morning.
I called my daughter on Saturday, late afternoon, and told her about all of my adventures last week. The art show project, being asked to be in that brochure, fixing the broken brake light (without any help or a manual or anything) and then breaking into my house.
We chatted for a while and I then said that I had called for another reason, and she shrieked, oh god, what else did you do? But all I wanted was to drive up next Friday and offer to send them off for the night. We are going to do that, but before we signed off, she berated me for allowing the boys to watch a particular program. I said fine, but she would not let it go.
In the past, even the recent past, I would have left it at my apology, but not this time. She was snarky and about something that she and my son-in-law allow them to watch. I did not belabor the point, but at least I made it. If I do not begin to stand up to the stuff she says, I will lose my connection to keeping our relationship healthy, and just go off to lick my wounds because I am uncomfortable saying anything.
The truth is that any kind of similar conversation is beyond my comfort areas. I never talk back or argue, I never confront anyone much less offer a challenge. I despise drama, it frightens me. I will swallow any rude treatment, whilst backing up, both physically and metaphorically.
It is the pattern of my life, that other life, and habits are difficult to change. I would like to be more assertive, more self supporting. I would love that. I hope that I am making progress in that direction, it is just so slow going.
This is interesting, because I had no intention of writing about my daughter and the program issue. At work tonight, shortly before my shift ended, I had a conversation with one of our women about not allowing other women to speak rudely to her, to not allow them to tell her what to do, especially as concerns her children, who are very nice boys.
And, here I am, struggling with the exact same issues, nearly at the same level of dysfunction. No one is perfect. If they were, they would drive us crazy-ier. No one knows everything. We are all doing the best we can.
I saw a quote a few days ago. Stop doing what doesn't work. Why is that so hard.
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