Monday, June 17, 2013
Concert cancelled, Sophie away at camp, hair cut (151.0)
We were supposed to go to Kansas City today to see my favorite band of all time, Mumford & Sons, in concert. The concert was cancelled, along with several others, because their bass player had a blood clot removed from his brain last Tuesday. Thankfully he's OK and is recovering, but obviously he isn't recovered enough to perform.
Strangely, it has worked out for the best for us. Last week we got a lot of calls from clients because accounts were down in May and they aren't used to seeing downturns on their statements (for the past year anyway). The market continues to be volatile & we need to be in the office right now. Plus Mark is getting another back procedure Wednesday & will be out the rest of the week. So for us, it's turned into a good thing.
BUT. I don't do well when plans change. It takes me a while to adjust. I'm getting better at adjusting more quickly (more below), but I am disappointed, of course. I don't know if we'll be able to go to the rescheduled concert. I'm returning our tickets because I'd rather do it now than risk not being able to return them later if we can't go. But I got over the disappointment rather quickly, saw the bigger picture and the benefits of not going.
I didn't sulk. I didn't get angry. I looked at the benefits of the cancellation instead of my disappointment.
I am learning to live without expectations. "Expectations are premeditated resentments." (First heard this in an OA meeting.) I don't need resentments taking up space in my life, so I work to not have expectations. Not from people or events. I've always approached vacations with no expectations--it's much easier to roll with what comes than to have concrete plans that blow up, as they often do when you travel. I'm applying that approach to daily life. It helps.
***
Sophie left for a week of sleep away camp yesterday. She went last year for the first time. It's the same camp this year, and she went with a friend from school who also went last year. Sophie was really excited to go.
We drove up with her friend's parents, about 2 1/2 hour drive. Her friend Mary cried when we got there; she has a hard time spending time away from her home, even at one-night sleepovers with her friends. Sophie is fairly independent, has spent many nights away from home and never had a problem. She didn't cry; she hugged me a lot (Mark & Luke stayed home) and was a little sad, but handled it well. The kids stay very busy at camp and are exhausted at bed time, so the emotions quickly dissipate after we leave and there's no time to be homesick (which is what they told us when we picked them up last year). She comes home Friday.
It's harder for us than it is for her, I'm sure. Luke was a mess last year when she left. He was never an only child, like Sophie was for 4.5 years before Luke was born, and he doesn't like it when she's gone. He is tender hearted & sensitive, and the kids spend a lot of time together. I will miss her terribly.
Her being gone makes me ponder what it will be like in 7 years when she leaves for college. I've watched how Vickie has handled her kids leaving home, and I can only hope I handle it half as well as she has.
***
I got 4 inches cut off my hair on Saturday. I've worn it long for a couple of years now, and prior to that it was never long. I've worn it in a bob for 20 years. I love it long, but it's a nice change to go back to a short bob. Mark loves it this shorter length, because it's how I wore it when we first met. Luke doesn't like it--he doesn't do well with change and wanted me to keep it long. I have been wearing it up so much and only styled it once or twice a week, that I decided it was time for a change. I'll post a pic in another post from my phone.
Strangely, it has worked out for the best for us. Last week we got a lot of calls from clients because accounts were down in May and they aren't used to seeing downturns on their statements (for the past year anyway). The market continues to be volatile & we need to be in the office right now. Plus Mark is getting another back procedure Wednesday & will be out the rest of the week. So for us, it's turned into a good thing.
BUT. I don't do well when plans change. It takes me a while to adjust. I'm getting better at adjusting more quickly (more below), but I am disappointed, of course. I don't know if we'll be able to go to the rescheduled concert. I'm returning our tickets because I'd rather do it now than risk not being able to return them later if we can't go. But I got over the disappointment rather quickly, saw the bigger picture and the benefits of not going.
I didn't sulk. I didn't get angry. I looked at the benefits of the cancellation instead of my disappointment.
I am learning to live without expectations. "Expectations are premeditated resentments." (First heard this in an OA meeting.) I don't need resentments taking up space in my life, so I work to not have expectations. Not from people or events. I've always approached vacations with no expectations--it's much easier to roll with what comes than to have concrete plans that blow up, as they often do when you travel. I'm applying that approach to daily life. It helps.
***
Sophie left for a week of sleep away camp yesterday. She went last year for the first time. It's the same camp this year, and she went with a friend from school who also went last year. Sophie was really excited to go.
We drove up with her friend's parents, about 2 1/2 hour drive. Her friend Mary cried when we got there; she has a hard time spending time away from her home, even at one-night sleepovers with her friends. Sophie is fairly independent, has spent many nights away from home and never had a problem. She didn't cry; she hugged me a lot (Mark & Luke stayed home) and was a little sad, but handled it well. The kids stay very busy at camp and are exhausted at bed time, so the emotions quickly dissipate after we leave and there's no time to be homesick (which is what they told us when we picked them up last year). She comes home Friday.
It's harder for us than it is for her, I'm sure. Luke was a mess last year when she left. He was never an only child, like Sophie was for 4.5 years before Luke was born, and he doesn't like it when she's gone. He is tender hearted & sensitive, and the kids spend a lot of time together. I will miss her terribly.
Her being gone makes me ponder what it will be like in 7 years when she leaves for college. I've watched how Vickie has handled her kids leaving home, and I can only hope I handle it half as well as she has.
***
I got 4 inches cut off my hair on Saturday. I've worn it long for a couple of years now, and prior to that it was never long. I've worn it in a bob for 20 years. I love it long, but it's a nice change to go back to a short bob. Mark loves it this shorter length, because it's how I wore it when we first met. Luke doesn't like it--he doesn't do well with change and wanted me to keep it long. I have been wearing it up so much and only styled it once or twice a week, that I decided it was time for a change. I'll post a pic in another post from my phone.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
More on sleep (149.0)
Last night I did not sleep well. It was the first bad night since I stopped taking trazedone. I woke up frustrated and angry and determined to start the damn trazedone again. I don't want to have another night like that again.
My husband doesn't sleep well. His sleep habits are horrible, and it impacts me. If we had a guest room, I'd sleep in there every night, but we don't so I can't.
I don't want to talk about all he does wrong in relation to his sleep issues. I cannot control his choices, and I have little ability to control how his choices affect me. I know that sounds lame, but I've lived with this for years and it's the way it is.
He will watch TV in the family room while I'm falling asleep; he's not totally insensitive. It's the middle of the night crap that disturbs my sleep and is why I loved the trazedone. It knocked me out cold and he could tap dance on the bed and I wouldn't notice.
Not so with xanax. Last night I fell asleep at 10:20, easily. At midnight, he woke me up. As usual, he couldn't sleep and his noise woke me out of my not-so-deep sleep. When I only take .25 mg xanax, I don't get into a deep enough sleep. (If I take .5 mg xanax, I have trouble waking up.) And when I wake up in the middle of the night, I don't get back to sleep quickly and I don't sleep deeply at all.
I slept, but it was more like cat naps. I was aware of the time passing several times during the night. When my alarm went off at 6, instead of getting up, I foolishly kept hitting the snooze alarm because I was mad that I was so tired and didn't want to get out of bed. And because those 9 minutes of sleep between beeps is (seemingly, although not really) better than nothing.
I haven't tracked my sleep behaviors in relation to my hormone cycles, but I'm suspicious that they may be linked. I should start in about a week, which is prime PMS time. Have any of you noticed your sleep being poor in relation to your cycle? I will be paying attention to this, IF I stay off the trazedone.
Which is the big question. Do I deal with the side effects? Do I split my pill down into a 1/4 size? (Which is basically a crumb, since they don't split cleanly. If I'm going to continue to take it, I need to call & ask for a smaller dosage.)
I sleep better when I'm working out. I haven't worked out regularly in months and months. So if I can start that back up, perhaps I'll sleep better. I only drink coffee in the morning, only rarely do I have any in the afternoon. Caffeine isn't the problem.
I have a suspicion that no matter what I do, I'm going to have to take drugs to sleep well. But figuring out what works without a sleep hangover may be a challenge.
I'm too PMS'y and crabby to make a good decision on any of it, so I'm letting it lie for now. I just wanted to vent while it was still fresh in my mind.
My husband doesn't sleep well. His sleep habits are horrible, and it impacts me. If we had a guest room, I'd sleep in there every night, but we don't so I can't.
I don't want to talk about all he does wrong in relation to his sleep issues. I cannot control his choices, and I have little ability to control how his choices affect me. I know that sounds lame, but I've lived with this for years and it's the way it is.
He will watch TV in the family room while I'm falling asleep; he's not totally insensitive. It's the middle of the night crap that disturbs my sleep and is why I loved the trazedone. It knocked me out cold and he could tap dance on the bed and I wouldn't notice.
Not so with xanax. Last night I fell asleep at 10:20, easily. At midnight, he woke me up. As usual, he couldn't sleep and his noise woke me out of my not-so-deep sleep. When I only take .25 mg xanax, I don't get into a deep enough sleep. (If I take .5 mg xanax, I have trouble waking up.) And when I wake up in the middle of the night, I don't get back to sleep quickly and I don't sleep deeply at all.
I slept, but it was more like cat naps. I was aware of the time passing several times during the night. When my alarm went off at 6, instead of getting up, I foolishly kept hitting the snooze alarm because I was mad that I was so tired and didn't want to get out of bed. And because those 9 minutes of sleep between beeps is (seemingly, although not really) better than nothing.
I haven't tracked my sleep behaviors in relation to my hormone cycles, but I'm suspicious that they may be linked. I should start in about a week, which is prime PMS time. Have any of you noticed your sleep being poor in relation to your cycle? I will be paying attention to this, IF I stay off the trazedone.
Which is the big question. Do I deal with the side effects? Do I split my pill down into a 1/4 size? (Which is basically a crumb, since they don't split cleanly. If I'm going to continue to take it, I need to call & ask for a smaller dosage.)
I sleep better when I'm working out. I haven't worked out regularly in months and months. So if I can start that back up, perhaps I'll sleep better. I only drink coffee in the morning, only rarely do I have any in the afternoon. Caffeine isn't the problem.
I have a suspicion that no matter what I do, I'm going to have to take drugs to sleep well. But figuring out what works without a sleep hangover may be a challenge.
I'm too PMS'y and crabby to make a good decision on any of it, so I'm letting it lie for now. I just wanted to vent while it was still fresh in my mind.
Thursday, June 06, 2013
My sleep meds (148.2)
Weight is a fluke? I did not expect to be down that much in one day. Wondering if my scale was wonky, if I've been holding onto midcycle bloat (quite possible), or if adding lemons to my daily water caused it. My pants fit looser this morning around the waist, so maybe not a fluke.
The last time I saw my psych nurse practioner, she asked how I was sleeping. I was taking .25 to .5 mg xanax at night to sleep. I told her I'd fall asleep easily but often wake up and take about an hour to fall asleep.
She prescribed trazedone, 50 mg. She told me the side affect people complain about most is vivid dreams.
I started with 50, but found it was too much. I had a very hard time getting up and felt drugged. I only took 50 for a couple of days. I broke the pills in half & have been taking 25 mg for several months.
I had very vivid dreams. Sometimes benign, sometimes anxious, often weird, and always very real and close to my wake up time. It wasn't bad enough to make me stop taking the med. I slept very well.
Most nights I didn't take it until 9 or 10 pm, because I'd be sleepy after 60-90 minutes. If I took it at 8, I'd be sleepy at 9:30, and that wouldn't leave me much of an evening after I put kids to bed. And I'm a night owl by nature and going to sleep at 9:30 is practically unthinkable.
But it takes 10+ hours for the med to get out of my system. So when I should be waking up at 5:30 or 6 am, I can't. I can barely get up at 6:45 to get the kids ready for school. If I don't set an alarm, like on the weekends, I will sleep until 9 am.
I have never been a morning person. And I've always felt like my wanting to sleep late is a moral failing (night owls, do you know what I mean?). It's a continual, degrading battle. I'll set my alarm for 5:30 and tell myself "tomorrow I WILL wake up on time!"
I never do. I hit the snooze for an hour or more. And so I feel like a moral failure every morning.
I think this habit is so ingrained, so deeply embedded in my personality, that I didn't stop and examine that I was making it worse by continuing to take the trazedone. I liked how I slept on it, I never woke up early anyway, so why stop even though it was getting harder & harder to wake up?
Monday I decided to stop taking the trazedone and try xanax again. The more work I do in OA, the more I am exploring how to stop the sabotage.
I am starting to wonder if the ideas that apply to addiction--that self-knowledge isn't powerful enough to change the behavoirs of an addict--apply to this kind of self-sabotage. It sure seems like it.
Yesterday I woke up at 5:15 with the birds. Literally. I'd slept with the window open, heard the birds singing (loudly--we have a lot of chatty birds in the neighborhood), and woke up. I wasn't sleepy. I got up and made coffee and had a wonderful morning of quiet time.
This morning, I hit the snooze for an hour. And I missed not having that quiet time.
Since self knowledge isn't enough to change my wake up time, I wonder if I can apply the same tools that I use with compulsive overeating to other areas like this in my life? Something to think about and talk with my sponsor about.
The last time I saw my psych nurse practioner, she asked how I was sleeping. I was taking .25 to .5 mg xanax at night to sleep. I told her I'd fall asleep easily but often wake up and take about an hour to fall asleep.
She prescribed trazedone, 50 mg. She told me the side affect people complain about most is vivid dreams.
I started with 50, but found it was too much. I had a very hard time getting up and felt drugged. I only took 50 for a couple of days. I broke the pills in half & have been taking 25 mg for several months.
I had very vivid dreams. Sometimes benign, sometimes anxious, often weird, and always very real and close to my wake up time. It wasn't bad enough to make me stop taking the med. I slept very well.
Most nights I didn't take it until 9 or 10 pm, because I'd be sleepy after 60-90 minutes. If I took it at 8, I'd be sleepy at 9:30, and that wouldn't leave me much of an evening after I put kids to bed. And I'm a night owl by nature and going to sleep at 9:30 is practically unthinkable.
But it takes 10+ hours for the med to get out of my system. So when I should be waking up at 5:30 or 6 am, I can't. I can barely get up at 6:45 to get the kids ready for school. If I don't set an alarm, like on the weekends, I will sleep until 9 am.
I have never been a morning person. And I've always felt like my wanting to sleep late is a moral failing (night owls, do you know what I mean?). It's a continual, degrading battle. I'll set my alarm for 5:30 and tell myself "tomorrow I WILL wake up on time!"
I never do. I hit the snooze for an hour or more. And so I feel like a moral failure every morning.
I think this habit is so ingrained, so deeply embedded in my personality, that I didn't stop and examine that I was making it worse by continuing to take the trazedone. I liked how I slept on it, I never woke up early anyway, so why stop even though it was getting harder & harder to wake up?
Monday I decided to stop taking the trazedone and try xanax again. The more work I do in OA, the more I am exploring how to stop the sabotage.
I am starting to wonder if the ideas that apply to addiction--that self-knowledge isn't powerful enough to change the behavoirs of an addict--apply to this kind of self-sabotage. It sure seems like it.
Yesterday I woke up at 5:15 with the birds. Literally. I'd slept with the window open, heard the birds singing (loudly--we have a lot of chatty birds in the neighborhood), and woke up. I wasn't sleepy. I got up and made coffee and had a wonderful morning of quiet time.
This morning, I hit the snooze for an hour. And I missed not having that quiet time.
Since self knowledge isn't enough to change my wake up time, I wonder if I can apply the same tools that I use with compulsive overeating to other areas like this in my life? Something to think about and talk with my sponsor about.
Tuesday, June 04, 2013
Character defects & monkey mind (150.4)
I have so much going on in my head, it’s hard to know what to write today. So I’m just going to type & see what comes out.
Last night at my OA meeting, the discussion was on step 6.
Steps 4 & 5 lead up to step 6.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
This step simultaneously excites me and terrifies me. Excites me because this step is one of the key milestones in deep, lasting, positive change. Terrifies me because, while I know I have many character defects, admitting to them and letting them go will be difficult.
Why do I think this will be difficult? Probably because I've lived with my character defects for so long, I don't know how I'll live without them.
What are my character defects? I haven't officially defined them yet. But mostly, at this point, I feel like I am one big ball of character defects. Procrastination, selfishness, laziness, monkey mind, self hatred, easily distracted, fearful to the point of paralysis, anger, self importance, arrogance, impatience, being controlling. I'm sure there are more that I'll discover as I work these steps.
I am hard on myself. I often feel like what I do isn't good enough. That *I'm* not enough. That if only I would be this or that, instead of who I am now, I'd be happier and be a better person. I often live my life out of selfishness and laziness--as in, I don't want to do what I don't want to do.
I routinely "should" myself. I should get up earlier. I should go to bed earlier. I should workout in the morning. I should workout at night. I should eat better. I should feed my kids better. I should spend more play time with my kids. I should manage my money better. I should manage my household better. I should meditate, be more spiritual, take yoga classes, be more generous, volunteer more, be nicer to my husband, be more patient with my kids, be a better parent. And on and on and on.
My monkey mind processes these kinds of thoughts all day long. Not only these thoughts, but thoughts of how I failed in the past, or how others failed me in the past.
I get in a loop, and the loop goes round and round until it crowds out all else.
Some days are better than others. Some days the monkey mind is quieter and doesn't beat me up as much as other days. Some days, I feel like I've done some things right--like get up early enough to not be crazy in the morning, handle a parenting situation well, or have a cleanly abstinent day.
This leads me to think of step 7, which is "Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings."
Like removing my compulsive overeating, I need my higher power to remove my shortcomings.
Self knowledge and knowledge of the how's and why's of self hatred aren't enough for *me.* They may be enough for others. For an addict like me, self knowledge doesn't make me change.
I need divine intervention to help me change and to learn to accept myself.
Does that mean I can't do anything for myself? No. I am called to action. I am called to work the steps. I am called to have an Action Plan which helps guide my day, to make it the best day I am able to. I am called to read and learn and listen.
I am called to not rely on my way, to not rely on my strength alone, and to give my cares to my higher power to work through them for me. (Being the control freak that I am, this one is really hard.)
Getting out of the rut of "shoulds" is hard work. Changing bad habits & unproductive routines is hard work. Selfish & self centered--I don't want to do what I don't want to do--makes this challenging, as well.
Many days, I don't want to have the best day. I just want to coast, to be numb, to not feel all my shortcomings. I no longer numb myself with food. But there are other ways I escape. Right now it's reading. It has also been shopping or movies or TV shows.
I don't write all this as if I'm a helpless case. I am making changes. I do have better days. I see improvements. I am hopeful for the present and the future.
The best thing I can do for myself is focus on one day at a time. One choice at a time. To do what's necessary at this moment, and then do what's necessary the next moment.
Monkey mind often makes my moments get mixed up. I'm doing one thing, I think of something else I need to do, and skip to that something else. I often have to force myself to stay on task, to resist the urge to follow every thought that flits through my brain. It's hard work.
Sunday I spent a lot of time outside working on the yard and the landscaping. When we did the back yard two weeks ago, we didn't have time for the front. Sunday, after I saw the accomplishments of four hours work, I felt good. It was therapeutic to breathe fresh air, work the ground, beautify my home and get rid of the "pile" of weeds and unattractiveness of our neglected (for years) landscaping.
That kind of thing--working when I'd rather have been lazy and reading--is one kind of positive change I am happy about.
What is remarkable to me, is that now that I am out of the food fog, now that food is a "minor" issue (I will always be an addict, the addiction is not minor, but I have been freed from compulsive overeating), I can finally pay attention to deeper issues of my life.
The food fog hid these issues by burying them. Now they are rising to the surface, and I can't (won't) ignore them. Shining the light on them is the first step to healing.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Time off almost always throws me off (151.2)
Warning: minutia of the last 5 days coming up....
I took last Thursday & Friday off, and then was off yesterday b/c of Memorial day, so I had 5 days off in a row.
Thursday I spent all day working in the yard with my mom & step dad. We trimmed every single tree we have and burned a ton of old branches that had built up under our holly trees (any time a big branch would fall, I'd drag it to the branch pile by the fence. There were years of built up branches & it looked awful). My step dad Bill cut down small unwelcome trees that had grown up in the holly trees and in our large bushes at the back of the house. He trimmed the blue spruce trees that were dragging the ground on the front of the house. He trimmed our six bushes in the front.
Bill also brought us a large fire ring (which he made out of a large barrel--it's about 4 feet in diameter) so we can have a fire pit. We burned all the branches. I couldn't believe how much we burned & how quickly it all burned up.
The back yard is transformed. I can sit outside now and enjoy myself. I could never enjoy myself before. I'd look at everything and be overwhelmed by how much needed to be done, and disgusted that it had gotten so out of hand.
We also had a new couch (sectional) and recliner delivered on Thursday. Our old furniture was 14 years old and was horrible. Dirty, torn with stuffing peeking out, broken arm on the loveseat, pillows whose seams had come undone. We would not invite people over to our house because it was so embarrassing.
So the family room, which looks out on the back yard through the patio doors, is also transformed. It's like a new house. We can finally feel good about having friends and family over. And I don't feel so defeated when I come home at night.
The kids went home with mom on Thursday night, because Mark & I went to Indianapolis for a work event at the 500 track on Friday. At 9:30 Thursday night he asks if I want to go see Star Trek. I was beat but no way was I saying no. We saw it in IMAX. Such a fun movie & 3D IMAX is incredible.
Friday we drove to Indy, spent two hours at the track, looking at the cars in the garage area and gawking at the drivers. We aren't racing fans, but it is still cool to see famous people. Dario Franchitti was 5 feet away from us on his golf cart. I have a great picture of him waving at us. He is a 3 time Indy winner and is married to Ashley Judd (although they are getting a divorce). He spent a lot of time signing autographs and taking pics with fans. A really nice guy. And gorgeous.
We picked up the kids Friday night on our way home from Indy. They had had a good time at mom's.
Sophie turned 12 Saturday, and her birthday party sleepover was also Saturday (4 girls including Sophie). The weather was perfect. Mark set up the tent and the girls sat out there and talked and played. We spent the entire day outside. We had a fire & roasted hot dogs for dinner and made s'mores when it got dark. She had a wonderful day.
Luke loved being outside, too. We played with his rocket launcher toy and played a short game of croquet.
We are indoor people by nature, so it was refreshing to get out & enjoy our backyard.
Sophie's party was a lot of work for me. I clean up after them as they go b/c I can't stand the mess. I was on my feet for about 10 hours straight, which was worth it so Sophie could have a memorable party. The girls stayed up until 4 a.m. They went home at noon on Sunday.
Sunday we relaxed for a few hours, then we went shopping for a different recliner (didn't like the first one), then we went to our friends' house for a cookout. It was another great day outside, and we all had a lot of fun.
Monday we slept in and then hung out. Sophie slept until 11:30, catching up from her late night. I read a book & sat outside.
Then Monday afternoon I took Sophie bathing suit shopping. Oh. my. gosh. It was miserable. She has a long torso but isn't fully developed up top. She's also very modest and won't wear a two piece, not even a tankini. We went to five stores. Tried on suits at Justice, which I thought would work but her torso is too long. We tried on women's sizes and junior's sizes at Penney's, Old Navy, and Gordmans (went to Sears too but they had nothing for her to try on). Junior's suits are all too revealing. And one piece suits are practically non existent.
We finally found a suit at Macy's. It is gorgeous. It was also a fortune, but we had spent almost 3 hours in frustration, and I just wanted to get her something she felt comfortable and confident in. It is the most beautiful suit I've ever seen. Sapphire blue with shirring on the front (which makes her more comfortable because it makes her tummy look flatter) and a white band at the top, with a white halter tie. Size 6 womens, Ralph Lauren. She'll be the best suited 12 year old at the pool.
I had no idea what size she'd be or that we'd have so much trouble. She had no problem finding a suit last year. If I'd known I would have looked at Land's End or Speedo, and measured her to get a good fit. She needed a suit today since they are going swimming this afternoon, so ordering wouldn't have worked anyway since I waited till the last minute. Live & learn.
So. How does all this throw me off? My food was allllll over the place. I'd have a good meal then a crappy meal. I ate more meat this weekend than I have in ages. I am still bloated from all the salt. I didn't eat cake or ice cream or s'mores. I didn't eat sugar. I just ate too much and not high enough quality a few too many times.
This is a partial work week. I'm working today and part of tomorrow, then taking Thursday & Friday off to be with the kids again. I wanted to spend their first full week of summer break with them, at least as much as work would allow.
I have learned my lesson though, and will do a better job planning my food and our activities. I don't want another long weekend with willy nilly food.
I took last Thursday & Friday off, and then was off yesterday b/c of Memorial day, so I had 5 days off in a row.
Thursday I spent all day working in the yard with my mom & step dad. We trimmed every single tree we have and burned a ton of old branches that had built up under our holly trees (any time a big branch would fall, I'd drag it to the branch pile by the fence. There were years of built up branches & it looked awful). My step dad Bill cut down small unwelcome trees that had grown up in the holly trees and in our large bushes at the back of the house. He trimmed the blue spruce trees that were dragging the ground on the front of the house. He trimmed our six bushes in the front.
Bill also brought us a large fire ring (which he made out of a large barrel--it's about 4 feet in diameter) so we can have a fire pit. We burned all the branches. I couldn't believe how much we burned & how quickly it all burned up.
The back yard is transformed. I can sit outside now and enjoy myself. I could never enjoy myself before. I'd look at everything and be overwhelmed by how much needed to be done, and disgusted that it had gotten so out of hand.
We also had a new couch (sectional) and recliner delivered on Thursday. Our old furniture was 14 years old and was horrible. Dirty, torn with stuffing peeking out, broken arm on the loveseat, pillows whose seams had come undone. We would not invite people over to our house because it was so embarrassing.
So the family room, which looks out on the back yard through the patio doors, is also transformed. It's like a new house. We can finally feel good about having friends and family over. And I don't feel so defeated when I come home at night.
The kids went home with mom on Thursday night, because Mark & I went to Indianapolis for a work event at the 500 track on Friday. At 9:30 Thursday night he asks if I want to go see Star Trek. I was beat but no way was I saying no. We saw it in IMAX. Such a fun movie & 3D IMAX is incredible.
Friday we drove to Indy, spent two hours at the track, looking at the cars in the garage area and gawking at the drivers. We aren't racing fans, but it is still cool to see famous people. Dario Franchitti was 5 feet away from us on his golf cart. I have a great picture of him waving at us. He is a 3 time Indy winner and is married to Ashley Judd (although they are getting a divorce). He spent a lot of time signing autographs and taking pics with fans. A really nice guy. And gorgeous.
We picked up the kids Friday night on our way home from Indy. They had had a good time at mom's.
Sophie turned 12 Saturday, and her birthday party sleepover was also Saturday (4 girls including Sophie). The weather was perfect. Mark set up the tent and the girls sat out there and talked and played. We spent the entire day outside. We had a fire & roasted hot dogs for dinner and made s'mores when it got dark. She had a wonderful day.
Luke loved being outside, too. We played with his rocket launcher toy and played a short game of croquet.
We are indoor people by nature, so it was refreshing to get out & enjoy our backyard.
Sophie's party was a lot of work for me. I clean up after them as they go b/c I can't stand the mess. I was on my feet for about 10 hours straight, which was worth it so Sophie could have a memorable party. The girls stayed up until 4 a.m. They went home at noon on Sunday.
Sunday we relaxed for a few hours, then we went shopping for a different recliner (didn't like the first one), then we went to our friends' house for a cookout. It was another great day outside, and we all had a lot of fun.
Monday we slept in and then hung out. Sophie slept until 11:30, catching up from her late night. I read a book & sat outside.
Then Monday afternoon I took Sophie bathing suit shopping. Oh. my. gosh. It was miserable. She has a long torso but isn't fully developed up top. She's also very modest and won't wear a two piece, not even a tankini. We went to five stores. Tried on suits at Justice, which I thought would work but her torso is too long. We tried on women's sizes and junior's sizes at Penney's, Old Navy, and Gordmans (went to Sears too but they had nothing for her to try on). Junior's suits are all too revealing. And one piece suits are practically non existent.
We finally found a suit at Macy's. It is gorgeous. It was also a fortune, but we had spent almost 3 hours in frustration, and I just wanted to get her something she felt comfortable and confident in. It is the most beautiful suit I've ever seen. Sapphire blue with shirring on the front (which makes her more comfortable because it makes her tummy look flatter) and a white band at the top, with a white halter tie. Size 6 womens, Ralph Lauren. She'll be the best suited 12 year old at the pool.
I had no idea what size she'd be or that we'd have so much trouble. She had no problem finding a suit last year. If I'd known I would have looked at Land's End or Speedo, and measured her to get a good fit. She needed a suit today since they are going swimming this afternoon, so ordering wouldn't have worked anyway since I waited till the last minute. Live & learn.
So. How does all this throw me off? My food was allllll over the place. I'd have a good meal then a crappy meal. I ate more meat this weekend than I have in ages. I am still bloated from all the salt. I didn't eat cake or ice cream or s'mores. I didn't eat sugar. I just ate too much and not high enough quality a few too many times.
This is a partial work week. I'm working today and part of tomorrow, then taking Thursday & Friday off to be with the kids again. I wanted to spend their first full week of summer break with them, at least as much as work would allow.
I have learned my lesson though, and will do a better job planning my food and our activities. I don't want another long weekend with willy nilly food.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Graduation day and beginning of summer (149.6)
she is now a 6th grader.
Her birthday is Saturday. She will be 12.
Last day of school is today. I'm taking a few days off to be with the
kids. All of us are ready for a break.
They have a busy summer planned, but for the first time they are not
doing a camp every week. My mom is keeping them for about 6 weeks
(mixed up between camps). I'm working 4 days the weeks she has them so
I can have them one day a week, which breaks up the days with grandma.
Here's Sophie yesterday before school.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Cooking debacle (151.6)
(I don't know why I'm up a pound. I had a great food day yesterday. Probably pre-period weight. Who knows.)
If there were ever a night for me to lose my sh!t, it was last night.
Before I picked up the kids at school, I went to the store and bought fruits, veggies, and meat.
When I got home, the first thing I did was go light the grill. Only the grill was totally and utterly broken. My husband had told me the last time he grilled that it was shot. It's been "shot" for a while, but we've been limping along with it. Well, what he meant to communicate to me was "it's deader than a doornail." The middle burner was completely rusted to the point it had collapsed. No more grill.
Here I was with two pounds of chicken and two pounds of ground sirloin. I decided to dry saute the chicken after cutting it up into bite sized bits.
This had happened to my big cooking pan a few months ago. I haven't replaced it yet, and have been using my small saute pan for pan cooking.
I took the wok off the heat, poured the carrots into a strainer and rinsed the black flecks off. Then I started crying.
I hate to cook. I don't cook enough. Here I was, determined to cook a healthy dinner, and I was getting hammered on.
My son asked if I was ok. I said yeah, I'm just having problems with the grill and the wok and I'm frustrated and sad. He asked if he could give me a hug. He's such a sweet little boy, and very intuitive of other people's feelings. His hug helped.
I turned on the oven, put the veggies in a baking dish, tossed them with garlic and salt & pepper. When the oven was hot, I put the veggies in to roast them.
Then I got out my small saute pan, cut up the chicken, and cooked. I cooked it one breast at a time (4 total--full butterfly breasts), and it didn't taste as good as it would have grilled, but it was passable.
I made Sophie a salad with strawberries and chicken.
I gave Luke grapes, broccoli, and chicken nuggets. The grapes cost $4.50 for one pound. He said they were all sour. One more stupid problem! So he got strawberries instead; at least they tasted good.
Then I went and sat outside on the deck for 30 minutes and listened to my book. I took my sleep med, had the kids get ready for bed, tucked them in, and went to bed.
No eating to drown out my feelings.
I woke up early this morning and read an OA book. I got the kids' breakfast and lunch ready before they got up. I was much more relaxed because I wasn't in a rush to get their lunches packed in time for the bus.
I'm not as angry today. I am still covered in fear, which is where all my negative emotions come from. I have a lot I'm worried about--stuff I don't need to get into here--and I keep trying to give it away but the feelings won't leave me. I talk with my therapist Wednesday.
Choir is over for the summer, so I have Thursday's free. Tonight I'm going to a second OA meeting this week. I need it.
If there were ever a night for me to lose my sh!t, it was last night.
Before I picked up the kids at school, I went to the store and bought fruits, veggies, and meat.
When I got home, the first thing I did was go light the grill. Only the grill was totally and utterly broken. My husband had told me the last time he grilled that it was shot. It's been "shot" for a while, but we've been limping along with it. Well, what he meant to communicate to me was "it's deader than a doornail." The middle burner was completely rusted to the point it had collapsed. No more grill.
Here I was with two pounds of chicken and two pounds of ground sirloin. I decided to dry saute the chicken after cutting it up into bite sized bits.
I wasn't sure what to do with the sirloin; I don't like pan fried sirloin. So it's still in the fridge, for me to figure out tonight.I decided to use the wok and cook the veggies first. I put the wok on the stove to heat it up. I bought pre-cut squash and a package of snow peas, and I peeled & sliced a few carrots. I put the carrots in first. The second I started tossing them, they were coated in black flecks. The wok was toast. You don't cook with a pan once the teflon starts breaking loose.
This had happened to my big cooking pan a few months ago. I haven't replaced it yet, and have been using my small saute pan for pan cooking.
I took the wok off the heat, poured the carrots into a strainer and rinsed the black flecks off. Then I started crying.
I hate to cook. I don't cook enough. Here I was, determined to cook a healthy dinner, and I was getting hammered on.
My son asked if I was ok. I said yeah, I'm just having problems with the grill and the wok and I'm frustrated and sad. He asked if he could give me a hug. He's such a sweet little boy, and very intuitive of other people's feelings. His hug helped.
I turned on the oven, put the veggies in a baking dish, tossed them with garlic and salt & pepper. When the oven was hot, I put the veggies in to roast them.
Then I got out my small saute pan, cut up the chicken, and cooked. I cooked it one breast at a time (4 total--full butterfly breasts), and it didn't taste as good as it would have grilled, but it was passable.
I made Sophie a salad with strawberries and chicken.
I gave Luke grapes, broccoli, and chicken nuggets. The grapes cost $4.50 for one pound. He said they were all sour. One more stupid problem! So he got strawberries instead; at least they tasted good.
Grapes are stupidly expensive, but they are one of two fruits that Luke can eat, so I buy them every couple of weeks.I finally sat down to dinner myself, after an hour of this debacle. Then I spent another hour cleaning the kitchen--in addition to washing everything up and loading the dishwasher, I put away all the clutter that had accumulated in the hot spots (clutter landing spaces). I swept the floor. I was beat.
Sitting down to eat is something I'm working on. My sponsor told me that I am worth the time it takes to sit and eat a meal. In the past, I'd have taken bites between cleaning. I hate to eat while the kitchen is a mess. Last night I let my OCD go and sat to eat.I listened to my book on my playaway while I was cleaning, which helped distract me. I get playaways from the library. They are MP3 players the size of a credit card. I'm listening to the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series; I'm on book 2.
Then I went and sat outside on the deck for 30 minutes and listened to my book. I took my sleep med, had the kids get ready for bed, tucked them in, and went to bed.
No eating to drown out my feelings.
I woke up early this morning and read an OA book. I got the kids' breakfast and lunch ready before they got up. I was much more relaxed because I wasn't in a rush to get their lunches packed in time for the bus.
I'm not as angry today. I am still covered in fear, which is where all my negative emotions come from. I have a lot I'm worried about--stuff I don't need to get into here--and I keep trying to give it away but the feelings won't leave me. I talk with my therapist Wednesday.
Choir is over for the summer, so I have Thursday's free. Tonight I'm going to a second OA meeting this week. I need it.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Don't drive angry (150.6)
One of my favorite movies is Groundhog Day. Remember the scene when Phil is driving with the groundhog on his lap, telling him "don't drive angry." I love that scene. It makes me laugh every time I see it.
I haven't been laughing lately, though. I have been angry. Irrationally angry and irritable. Angry at little things and big things. Angry almost all of the time.
I may be anxious and depressed frequently, but consistent anger has not been an issue for me in the past.
After 3 or 4 days of this, I finally decided to research wellbutrin and anger. Turns out anger has been a side affect for many people. I'm not alone in feeling this way.
Wellbutrin has never caused this problem for me before. I'm rather in a quandary. I won't take an SSRI because of the proven (both scientifically and by my personal experience) weight gain side effect. Wellbutrin is the only anti depressant that doesn't cause weight gain.
I've been researching other treatments for depression. It's the usual blah blah blah. Get more sleep. Exercise regularly. Do yoga. Meditate. Eliminate stress. Eat right.
Nothing new. I know all this already.
What I did find that was new is the relationship between inflammation and depression. There's a lot of mumbo jumbo science behind the link between the two. The take away is to reduce inflammation and you could possibly reduce your depression.
You reduce inflammation by not eating foods that cause inflammation--which just happen to be all the crap foods I shouldn't eat anyway. Processed foods, wheat, milk, sugar.
I haven't completely eliminated any of those. My diet is much cleaner that it was last year, but I still eat processed foods every day. I'm not clean "enough."
So there are all these healthy things I need to do, which I know will help. It's more difficult to do, though, when I'm depressed, anxious, walking through mud, & angry all the time. There's the rub.
I'm not walking through mud today, or yesterday, but I still have the pent up anger feeling. I haven't decided if I should wait it out--have only been back on it for seven days--or stop it again. The anger and anxiety is very upsetting.
I obviously shouldn't make that decision on my own. I know I need to go see my nurse practitioner who prescribes my meds. But honestly, I don't know what she can do. I've researched all the meds and nothing looks like it is the right fit. There are even studies now that suggest anti depressants work no better than placebos. I'm not sure I believe that, because I have been helped by them in the past. Presently, however, they aren't completely helping, and may be making things worse.
I haven't been laughing lately, though. I have been angry. Irrationally angry and irritable. Angry at little things and big things. Angry almost all of the time.
I may be anxious and depressed frequently, but consistent anger has not been an issue for me in the past.
After 3 or 4 days of this, I finally decided to research wellbutrin and anger. Turns out anger has been a side affect for many people. I'm not alone in feeling this way.
Wellbutrin has never caused this problem for me before. I'm rather in a quandary. I won't take an SSRI because of the proven (both scientifically and by my personal experience) weight gain side effect. Wellbutrin is the only anti depressant that doesn't cause weight gain.
I've been researching other treatments for depression. It's the usual blah blah blah. Get more sleep. Exercise regularly. Do yoga. Meditate. Eliminate stress. Eat right.
Nothing new. I know all this already.
What I did find that was new is the relationship between inflammation and depression. There's a lot of mumbo jumbo science behind the link between the two. The take away is to reduce inflammation and you could possibly reduce your depression.
You reduce inflammation by not eating foods that cause inflammation--which just happen to be all the crap foods I shouldn't eat anyway. Processed foods, wheat, milk, sugar.
I haven't completely eliminated any of those. My diet is much cleaner that it was last year, but I still eat processed foods every day. I'm not clean "enough."
So there are all these healthy things I need to do, which I know will help. It's more difficult to do, though, when I'm depressed, anxious, walking through mud, & angry all the time. There's the rub.
I'm not walking through mud today, or yesterday, but I still have the pent up anger feeling. I haven't decided if I should wait it out--have only been back on it for seven days--or stop it again. The anger and anxiety is very upsetting.
I obviously shouldn't make that decision on my own. I know I need to go see my nurse practitioner who prescribes my meds. But honestly, I don't know what she can do. I've researched all the meds and nothing looks like it is the right fit. There are even studies now that suggest anti depressants work no better than placebos. I'm not sure I believe that, because I have been helped by them in the past. Presently, however, they aren't completely helping, and may be making things worse.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Night eating--circadian rythm (150.8)
I read last week that researchers confirmed our circadian cycles affect our hunger.
Here is a link:
Study explains what triggers night-time food cravings
Bottom line:
The researchers found that the internal circadian system regulated hunger, with participants feeling the least hungry in the morning (8 a.m.) and most hungry in the evening (8 p.m.).
“Our study suggests that because of the internal circadian regulation of appetite, we have a natural tendency to skip breakfast in favor of larger meals in the evening. This pattern of food intake across the day is exactly what Sumo wrestlers do to gain weight.” said Steven Shea. “So, it seems likely that the internal circadian system helps with efficient food storage. While this may have been valuable throughout evolution, nowadays it is likely to contribute to the national epidemic of obesity.“
Here's another study: Circadian clock linked to obesity, diabetes, heart disease This is a study on mice, which have similar molecular structures to ours. Their cycles are a mirror image of ours--they are active at night, while we are inactive at night. Bottom line: "Mouse tissues are relatively resistant to insulin [convert food to fat] during the inactive/fasting phase [our night time cycle]. "Whereas they become more sensitive to insulin (therefore better able to transfer glucose out of the blood [and NOT convert it to fat]) during the high activity/feeding phase [our day time ] of their 24-hour cycle.
"As a result, glucose is converted primarily into fat during the inactive phase and used for energy and to other tissue building during the high activity phase."
“That is why it is good to fast every day…not eat anything between dinner and breakfast,” said Johnson [one of the researchers]. The take away? I'm wired to eat at night. I have to fight evolution to eat breakfast early and not eat the house down after 8 pm. Of course we have practical, real life experience of the results of eating at night, although I have read health/fitness articles in the past that say it doesn't matter when you eat--a calorie is a calorie is a calorie.... calories in/calories out. But that's simply not true, as evidenced by our experience and now by scientific research. I guess it's helpful to understand the WHY's of my behavior. But it's still a fight to change. Thanks a bunch, evolution.
Here is a link:
Study explains what triggers night-time food cravings
Bottom line:
The researchers found that the internal circadian system regulated hunger, with participants feeling the least hungry in the morning (8 a.m.) and most hungry in the evening (8 p.m.).
“Our study suggests that because of the internal circadian regulation of appetite, we have a natural tendency to skip breakfast in favor of larger meals in the evening. This pattern of food intake across the day is exactly what Sumo wrestlers do to gain weight.” said Steven Shea. “So, it seems likely that the internal circadian system helps with efficient food storage. While this may have been valuable throughout evolution, nowadays it is likely to contribute to the national epidemic of obesity.“
Here's another study: Circadian clock linked to obesity, diabetes, heart disease This is a study on mice, which have similar molecular structures to ours. Their cycles are a mirror image of ours--they are active at night, while we are inactive at night. Bottom line: "Mouse tissues are relatively resistant to insulin [convert food to fat] during the inactive/fasting phase [our night time cycle]. "Whereas they become more sensitive to insulin (therefore better able to transfer glucose out of the blood [and NOT convert it to fat]) during the high activity/feeding phase [our day time ] of their 24-hour cycle.
"As a result, glucose is converted primarily into fat during the inactive phase and used for energy and to other tissue building during the high activity phase."
“That is why it is good to fast every day…not eat anything between dinner and breakfast,” said Johnson [one of the researchers]. The take away? I'm wired to eat at night. I have to fight evolution to eat breakfast early and not eat the house down after 8 pm. Of course we have practical, real life experience of the results of eating at night, although I have read health/fitness articles in the past that say it doesn't matter when you eat--a calorie is a calorie is a calorie.... calories in/calories out. But that's simply not true, as evidenced by our experience and now by scientific research. I guess it's helpful to understand the WHY's of my behavior. But it's still a fight to change. Thanks a bunch, evolution.
Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Depression settling in again--? (151.0)
I still have a pound or so of travel weight to shed. I didn't overeat, but we ate at weird hours and I had foods I don't eat at home, with more sodium than normal. Not worried about it. Just noting it.
I had some anxiety in Colorado that I think could be altitude related. I had a major anxiety attack last summer, when we were there for a week. It was mostly due to the increased dose of lamictal, I think, but I noticed the same type of anxiety (but milder) on day 2 of our trip.
Travel went perfectly smoothly--no airline or driving issues. We flew direct from Indy to Denver (drove to Indy, about 3 hours). I was relaxed about traveling because I'd allowed plenty of time. Kids traveled well. I love flying. We had our TomTom so no directions issues in the car when we left the airport.
So I don't the anxiety was situational. I think the altitude was the issue.
Monday was a full travel day, about 11 hours from leaving BIL's house to getting home.
Yesterday I let the kids stay home from school again. They were beat. I went in to work at 1:30 and Mark came home to stay with them. I started feeling some "afters" yesterday. I thought it was just that--afters. But today I am listless, anxious, and starting to feel like I'm walking through mud again.
I started tapering off Wellbutrin on 3/7/13. I was fully off by 4/2. My intention was to get off of it, because I'd been on it long enough that it was no longer effective, then get back on in the late summer or early fall. I assumed I'd be okay for most of the summer. When I've tapered off before, it was a few months before I got back on.
Today, I feel like I am probably going to go back on it sooner than later.
I could be feeling like this because of lingering after affects of travel. Or it could be hormones. I'm smack dab in the middle of my cycle. I looked back over my cycle/moods notes that I keep in notepad on my phone--right before my period and about 7-10 days after my period, I'm moodier than usual. It's 16 days after my last period. So, not sure if this is hormones or not.
It feels like depression starting again.
I will wait a day or so to see if it lightens. If not, I'll probably start wellbutrin again.
Which is fine, I'm not opposed to taking medicine. I just expected the "off" cycle to be longer than this (expectation based on how this went the last time I cycled off/on). And I'm not okay with having more than more than 2-3 days of walking through mud.
I had some anxiety in Colorado that I think could be altitude related. I had a major anxiety attack last summer, when we were there for a week. It was mostly due to the increased dose of lamictal, I think, but I noticed the same type of anxiety (but milder) on day 2 of our trip.
Travel went perfectly smoothly--no airline or driving issues. We flew direct from Indy to Denver (drove to Indy, about 3 hours). I was relaxed about traveling because I'd allowed plenty of time. Kids traveled well. I love flying. We had our TomTom so no directions issues in the car when we left the airport.
So I don't the anxiety was situational. I think the altitude was the issue.
Monday was a full travel day, about 11 hours from leaving BIL's house to getting home.
Yesterday I let the kids stay home from school again. They were beat. I went in to work at 1:30 and Mark came home to stay with them. I started feeling some "afters" yesterday. I thought it was just that--afters. But today I am listless, anxious, and starting to feel like I'm walking through mud again.
I started tapering off Wellbutrin on 3/7/13. I was fully off by 4/2. My intention was to get off of it, because I'd been on it long enough that it was no longer effective, then get back on in the late summer or early fall. I assumed I'd be okay for most of the summer. When I've tapered off before, it was a few months before I got back on.
Today, I feel like I am probably going to go back on it sooner than later.
I could be feeling like this because of lingering after affects of travel. Or it could be hormones. I'm smack dab in the middle of my cycle. I looked back over my cycle/moods notes that I keep in notepad on my phone--right before my period and about 7-10 days after my period, I'm moodier than usual. It's 16 days after my last period. So, not sure if this is hormones or not.
It feels like depression starting again.
I will wait a day or so to see if it lightens. If not, I'll probably start wellbutrin again.
Which is fine, I'm not opposed to taking medicine. I just expected the "off" cycle to be longer than this (expectation based on how this went the last time I cycled off/on). And I'm not okay with having more than more than 2-3 days of walking through mud.
Friday, May 03, 2013
Colorado bound
Nephew's wedding in Boulder is tomorrow. We fly home Monday afternoon.
It's going to be chilly so we have coats packed. Smooth travels
getting to the airport. Right on time. Very little stress today
because I allowed lots of time. Was up until midnight packing, wasn't
able to start until 7 last night. It's a lot of work packing for kids
and me, even though it's only 4 days.
Thankfully I have one trip (Florida in February) under my belt being
abstinent. Colorado will be easy. They are the healthiest people in
the country.
Be back next week. Have a great weekend all!
Thursday, May 02, 2013
Adolescent thinking; feeling better; night time eating link (150.0)
There are days when I can't believe I'm a grown up, with all the responsibilities that come with it--mortgage, house, wife, kids, career, financial obligations, and all the trappings of modern life.
I don't know why, at age 43, I often feel like I'm still a kid inside. I suspect it has to do with childhood emotional trauma and getting stuck in "little girl" thinking (Vickie had a recent post on little girl thinking, which is where I got that term from).
I also suspect that it comes from my need to be taken care of. While I'm hard headed and a control freak and independent and usually feel like I know what's best for myself and those in my life, I have a flip side that just wants to let go and let someone else take care of everything.
My vacation in St John in 2009 was ridiculously enjoyable because I had absolutely no responsibility. Our friend Max did all the planning, so I just showed up with my packed bags and let him take the reigns. I didn't drive once in St John. I didn't have to cook, other than helping out where I was instructed to (we had a great cook in our group). I didn't plan our excursions. I had no kids to look after. It was nirvana.
So why does a control freak like me secretly have a desire to be controlled and taken care of?
It all seems really deep and worthy of years of therapy, doesn't it?
I just finished reading the Fifty Shades trilogy. Yes, there's a ton of risque sex in it. But I enjoyed it for the relationship and the development of both characters--there's more to it than sex. It's pure escape reading, but it does raise questions about a man taking care of a woman (and I don't mean sexually) the way men used to take care of women. That spoke to me on a primitive level that, in the light of day, I would feel ashamed to claim as something I desire. But in my private thoughts, I think it would be incredible to have someone make decisions for me and take over the responsibility of my life.
Ok, so I'm not quite so damaged that I live in this fantasy world. I'm not looking for a Christian Grey-type man. I'm happily married, I love my kids, I like my life. I'm blessed beyond measure.
I would still like a measure of letting go and letting someone else take over.
In thinking through all this, I do believe this goes back to my adolescent years, when I felt like my parents didn't take care of my needs.
When they didn't protect me but instead let me have an 18 year old boyfriend when I was 12.
When they left me home alone with my little sister during the summers in middle school.
When I worked very hard in school without their help.
When I was a senior in high school and realized my parents had no money to pay for college (thankfully I received a full ride 4-year scholarship, so that was taken care of, but I didn't know that was going to happen until I was close to graduation, and it happened because *I* made it happen, not them).
When they let my boyfriend move in with us when I was 22, because he came from a broken home with a father who had molested my boyfriend's sister.
When I felt like they were too wrapped up in their own drama to care for mine.
When I felt like they should know better how to make decisions for me, and not let me make decisions on my own, even when I was 22.
I was forced to be independent and care for myself, the best way I knew how, at a young age. I couldn't believe it then, on a subconscious level, that I had to do these things myself. I often felt bereft and alone, without the care I craved.
The responsibilities I have now are hard for me grasp, even as an adult. My husband and I are extremely close and very good at communicating, yet I sometimes feel like I manage my life alone and have the bulk of the responsibility. (You should know that he has the sole responsiblity of earning our income, which is sales and fee based, so he has a huge share of the burden--it's not JUST me.)
Not being alone is one of the keys to the success of the OA program. At least in my food life, I am no longer alone.
My appointment with my therapist is May 22 (that was the soonest she could get me in; she's out the week of 5/13). Add all this to the list of things to talk with her about.
****
I had a good talk with my sponsor yesterday. We worked through my issues. Just talking with her got me focused on cleaning up my food, cleaning up the way I take care of myself. I ate three good meals yesterday. I ran 3 miles (running is still hard--my heart and lungs are not conditioned--but I ran sprint intervals, and my sprints were in the 9:45-10:30 range for .1 miles at a time, so with more training I'm going to be rocking the speed and distance). I sat down and ate dinner at the kitchen bar, instead of standing up or eating it on the couch. I didn't eat at night (see below for more on that). I went to sleep at 10:30. One good day under my belt. One good day at a time. I feel much better and more positive today.
***
I read an article that Frances posted on Facebook about night time eating. Researchers did a study on it. Very interesting read. Turns out we are programmed to eat at night. Our hunger is at its lowest at 8 am and at its highest at 8 pm. Egads! As if we overweight people don't have enough to deal with to lose weight; we are absolutely fighting evolution when it comes to night eating. Night time eating
I don't know why, at age 43, I often feel like I'm still a kid inside. I suspect it has to do with childhood emotional trauma and getting stuck in "little girl" thinking (Vickie had a recent post on little girl thinking, which is where I got that term from).
I also suspect that it comes from my need to be taken care of. While I'm hard headed and a control freak and independent and usually feel like I know what's best for myself and those in my life, I have a flip side that just wants to let go and let someone else take care of everything.
My vacation in St John in 2009 was ridiculously enjoyable because I had absolutely no responsibility. Our friend Max did all the planning, so I just showed up with my packed bags and let him take the reigns. I didn't drive once in St John. I didn't have to cook, other than helping out where I was instructed to (we had a great cook in our group). I didn't plan our excursions. I had no kids to look after. It was nirvana.
So why does a control freak like me secretly have a desire to be controlled and taken care of?
It all seems really deep and worthy of years of therapy, doesn't it?
I just finished reading the Fifty Shades trilogy. Yes, there's a ton of risque sex in it. But I enjoyed it for the relationship and the development of both characters--there's more to it than sex. It's pure escape reading, but it does raise questions about a man taking care of a woman (and I don't mean sexually) the way men used to take care of women. That spoke to me on a primitive level that, in the light of day, I would feel ashamed to claim as something I desire. But in my private thoughts, I think it would be incredible to have someone make decisions for me and take over the responsibility of my life.
Ok, so I'm not quite so damaged that I live in this fantasy world. I'm not looking for a Christian Grey-type man. I'm happily married, I love my kids, I like my life. I'm blessed beyond measure.
I would still like a measure of letting go and letting someone else take over.
In thinking through all this, I do believe this goes back to my adolescent years, when I felt like my parents didn't take care of my needs.
When they didn't protect me but instead let me have an 18 year old boyfriend when I was 12.
When they left me home alone with my little sister during the summers in middle school.
When I worked very hard in school without their help.
When I was a senior in high school and realized my parents had no money to pay for college (thankfully I received a full ride 4-year scholarship, so that was taken care of, but I didn't know that was going to happen until I was close to graduation, and it happened because *I* made it happen, not them).
When they let my boyfriend move in with us when I was 22, because he came from a broken home with a father who had molested my boyfriend's sister.
When I felt like they were too wrapped up in their own drama to care for mine.
When I felt like they should know better how to make decisions for me, and not let me make decisions on my own, even when I was 22.
- I understand now that my parents were immature and emotionally stunted themselves. They likely had no more ability to make the right decisions than I did. I think I'm beyond blaming or being angry with them now, but it's taken me a long time and a lot of therapy to get to that point.
I was forced to be independent and care for myself, the best way I knew how, at a young age. I couldn't believe it then, on a subconscious level, that I had to do these things myself. I often felt bereft and alone, without the care I craved.
The responsibilities I have now are hard for me grasp, even as an adult. My husband and I are extremely close and very good at communicating, yet I sometimes feel like I manage my life alone and have the bulk of the responsibility. (You should know that he has the sole responsiblity of earning our income, which is sales and fee based, so he has a huge share of the burden--it's not JUST me.)
Not being alone is one of the keys to the success of the OA program. At least in my food life, I am no longer alone.
My appointment with my therapist is May 22 (that was the soonest she could get me in; she's out the week of 5/13). Add all this to the list of things to talk with her about.
****
I had a good talk with my sponsor yesterday. We worked through my issues. Just talking with her got me focused on cleaning up my food, cleaning up the way I take care of myself. I ate three good meals yesterday. I ran 3 miles (running is still hard--my heart and lungs are not conditioned--but I ran sprint intervals, and my sprints were in the 9:45-10:30 range for .1 miles at a time, so with more training I'm going to be rocking the speed and distance). I sat down and ate dinner at the kitchen bar, instead of standing up or eating it on the couch. I didn't eat at night (see below for more on that). I went to sleep at 10:30. One good day under my belt. One good day at a time. I feel much better and more positive today.
***
I read an article that Frances posted on Facebook about night time eating. Researchers did a study on it. Very interesting read. Turns out we are programmed to eat at night. Our hunger is at its lowest at 8 am and at its highest at 8 pm. Egads! As if we overweight people don't have enough to deal with to lose weight; we are absolutely fighting evolution when it comes to night eating. Night time eating
Monday, April 29, 2013
Old issues resurfacing (150.4)
I think it's time for me to go see my therapist again.
This past week has been difficult. I'm beating myself up for not exercising enough and not eating "perfectly." I have more and more days where I'm not satisified with my weight or the way I look. I'm getting trapped in the loop of "if only I'd lose another 10 (or 20) pounds, I'd be where I want to be." I'm upset that I'm two pounds heavier than my low weight this year. Two pounds! And I feel like a failure.
Food thoughts are taking up too much space in my brain. Cravings for things I can't eat. Eating foods that are borderline not okay--Zone bars and Luna bars are my "treat" and I'm eating too many of them, especially when I'm hormonal (like this weekend).
I know that eating processed foods are causing this, too--it's not just mental sabotage. It's food addiction.
I feel like I'm on the edge of a precipice, like I could go over if don't reverse course now.
It's old thinking, creeping back in. My thoughts are moving in the old patterns, trying to fix the food instead of working on my insides and the WHY's of what I'm doing. Fix the food, as in....I will only drink smoothies today, and that will get me back on track. I won't eat anything after 6 pm today. I'll get back on track on Monday. Of course, this strategy fails every time.
This is not where I want to be. I am stuck in a loop.
The body image thing is coming up because of my inner turmoil, I think. Friday was our office open house, and I wore a new outfit I bought the week before. Size small top and size 8 pants. I felt good about how I looked in the morning, but I saw myself reflected in a window in the office and thought, geez I need to lose 10 more pounds, and then I didn't feel so great about myself the rest of the day.
A big part of me is happy about how I look. 25 pounds lost since last September, and I'm not miserable by any means. I can wear everything in my closet. Clothes shopping isn't a chore; it's fun. I don't feel like a total failure.
It's just that the "not good enough" thoughts are bigger than the "I'm okay the way I am" thoughts.
Rationally, I know the size I am now (my dress pants are mostly size 10s, some 8s, dresses size 8s, tops size smalls/mediums) is a good size for my body. Irrationally, I'm back to the thinking "I need to be a size 6 and THEN I'll be happy."
I'm stuck in the "if only's." The "if only's" are getting bigger.
I've been here before and recognize that it's a path to failure if I don't work on it.
I have tools to deal with this, through my OA program. But I think it's bigger than that and I need my therapist's help.
I realize, of course, that to anyone who has a lot of weight to lose, I sound like an ass. "I mean, really, 10 pounds? You're upset about 10 pounds? You're not happy being a size 8? Oh you poor thing (not)."
The thing is, I'm still a fat girl on the inside. The fat girl is insecure. The fat girl doesn't trust the weight loss to stick. The fat girl on the inside is terrified that she'll turn the thin girl back into a fat girl on the outside...again. The fat girl doesn't think she deserves to be thin. Fat girl needs a lot of help.
This past week has been difficult. I'm beating myself up for not exercising enough and not eating "perfectly." I have more and more days where I'm not satisified with my weight or the way I look. I'm getting trapped in the loop of "if only I'd lose another 10 (or 20) pounds, I'd be where I want to be." I'm upset that I'm two pounds heavier than my low weight this year. Two pounds! And I feel like a failure.
Food thoughts are taking up too much space in my brain. Cravings for things I can't eat. Eating foods that are borderline not okay--Zone bars and Luna bars are my "treat" and I'm eating too many of them, especially when I'm hormonal (like this weekend).
I know that eating processed foods are causing this, too--it's not just mental sabotage. It's food addiction.
I feel like I'm on the edge of a precipice, like I could go over if don't reverse course now.
It's old thinking, creeping back in. My thoughts are moving in the old patterns, trying to fix the food instead of working on my insides and the WHY's of what I'm doing. Fix the food, as in....I will only drink smoothies today, and that will get me back on track. I won't eat anything after 6 pm today. I'll get back on track on Monday. Of course, this strategy fails every time.
This is not where I want to be. I am stuck in a loop.
The body image thing is coming up because of my inner turmoil, I think. Friday was our office open house, and I wore a new outfit I bought the week before. Size small top and size 8 pants. I felt good about how I looked in the morning, but I saw myself reflected in a window in the office and thought, geez I need to lose 10 more pounds, and then I didn't feel so great about myself the rest of the day.
A big part of me is happy about how I look. 25 pounds lost since last September, and I'm not miserable by any means. I can wear everything in my closet. Clothes shopping isn't a chore; it's fun. I don't feel like a total failure.
It's just that the "not good enough" thoughts are bigger than the "I'm okay the way I am" thoughts.
Rationally, I know the size I am now (my dress pants are mostly size 10s, some 8s, dresses size 8s, tops size smalls/mediums) is a good size for my body. Irrationally, I'm back to the thinking "I need to be a size 6 and THEN I'll be happy."
I'm stuck in the "if only's." The "if only's" are getting bigger.
I've been here before and recognize that it's a path to failure if I don't work on it.
I have tools to deal with this, through my OA program. But I think it's bigger than that and I need my therapist's help.
I realize, of course, that to anyone who has a lot of weight to lose, I sound like an ass. "I mean, really, 10 pounds? You're upset about 10 pounds? You're not happy being a size 8? Oh you poor thing (not)."
The thing is, I'm still a fat girl on the inside. The fat girl is insecure. The fat girl doesn't trust the weight loss to stick. The fat girl on the inside is terrified that she'll turn the thin girl back into a fat girl on the outside...again. The fat girl doesn't think she deserves to be thin. Fat girl needs a lot of help.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Serenity Prayer - the full version (149.8)
Until a few months ago, I didn't realize there was more to the serenity prayer than the first few famous lines. An OA member shared his story last night and also handed out copies of the prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr. He had recited it by memory the first time I'd heard the whole thing.
Here it is:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him forever in the next.
Amen.
The "reasonably happy" line hit me in the gut. I'd had a rough afternoon, and was mentally lamenting all the sh*t in my life that was getting me down. Having the conversation in my head, why can't I have "x" or why can't my life be "x."
Then I read the reasonably happy line.
Am I reasonably happy? Of course I am. And then some. My problems are first world problems.
And of course, "hardships as the pathway to peace" isn't easy to swallow either. I'd rather have a smooth pathway to peace.
Neither is "taking this sinful world as it is, and not as I would have it." I have spent most of my life trying to control *my* world and making it into what *I* think is best. Letting go of my control issues and letting others live their lives is something I've worked on in therapy, and I'm getting better at it, but it's still a challenge.
After learning about the rest of this prayer, I think it's a shame that most of us only know the first small part. Those first lines provide comfort; the rest of the prayer challenges us on a much deeper level.
Here it is:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is,
not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him forever in the next.
Amen.
The "reasonably happy" line hit me in the gut. I'd had a rough afternoon, and was mentally lamenting all the sh*t in my life that was getting me down. Having the conversation in my head, why can't I have "x" or why can't my life be "x."
Then I read the reasonably happy line.
Am I reasonably happy? Of course I am. And then some. My problems are first world problems.
And of course, "hardships as the pathway to peace" isn't easy to swallow either. I'd rather have a smooth pathway to peace.
Neither is "taking this sinful world as it is, and not as I would have it." I have spent most of my life trying to control *my* world and making it into what *I* think is best. Letting go of my control issues and letting others live their lives is something I've worked on in therapy, and I'm getting better at it, but it's still a challenge.
After learning about the rest of this prayer, I think it's a shame that most of us only know the first small part. Those first lines provide comfort; the rest of the prayer challenges us on a much deeper level.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Uncomfortable in growing-older skin (149.6)
My grandma is in the hospital and I visited her last night. She has been in and out the past few weeks. Had a pacemaker put in last week, then was back on Wednesday b/c of blood in her stool (she also has diverticulitis).
She is 84 and has lived a hard life. She and my grandpa had a farm, and she did all the work a farm wife has to do. She worked in nursing homes in her 50-60s. She is stubborn and did everything herself, and still does when she can, although that's gotten harder and harder.
When I was there last night, the nurse was changing her IV. Her veins collapse after an IV is in for a while, and they have to keep finding new veins. She hadn't eaten in a few days, and finally had dinner last night before I got there. She threw up after they changed her IV; she said it was probably too much food on her stomach that had been empty for days.
She didn't have her dentures in. She looked tired and frail. She talked about going into a nursing home but said my aunt doesn't want her to yet. My aunt and her family live with my grandma. They moved into her house 15 or so years ago, so she's never alone. My mom helps a lot too, taking her to appointments and to the hospital and staying with her.
Aside from noticing how frail she was, what got me was her skin. It is thin and crepe-y. Even her skin looks tired--which makes sense since it's the largest organ we have. Her inside upper arms were especially striking to me; not only thin and crepe lined, but flappy. I am not being judgemental, just explaining what I saw.
As I was leaving, I had a little freak out. *I* am going to be in my 80s someday (God willing). I will have skin like that. I will likely have skin like that before I'm 80.
I love my skin. I pamper it with skin care products and makeup and body lotions. I'm blessed to have good genes and fair skin that hasn't been in the sun too much. I don't look my age.
Sometimes I don't have time for body lotion, and I don't put lotion everywhere (like my inner/upper arms). This morning I put lotion on my upper arms. And I couldn't help but think, is there a miracle product I can buy at Sephora that will stave off my skin aging too soon?
Aging is showing up more in my hands than anywhere else. "When did I start getting my grandmothers' hands?" I said to myself a year or so ago. My earliest memories of my grandmothers are in their 50s. And at age 6, I of course thought they were old then.
It's no wonder the beauty industry is a bazillion dollar business. I am freaked by the idea of looking older. Not getting older. Looking older. Obviously millions of other women are too.
My therapist once told me, when I first started seeing her and my primary complaint was the way I looked at 185 pounds, "you know, there will always be something you won't like about the way you look. How will you deal with getting older?" I don't really remember the solution she offered. I was so focused on getting the weight off and fixing my head about weight, I didn't bother processing how I'd think about myself as I got old.
John Ortberg, the Pastor at Menlo Park Presbyterian church whose online sermons I listen to, once told the story of an old woman who was beautiful. She was at that age where looks were superfluous, where her spirit shined through her face, and made the wrinkles beautiful. I know many women who fit that description, especially at my church.
That idea gives me a little peace, but it is the END result. It's the journey getting there and the entropy on the journey there that gives me pause.
I don't know how my grandma felt about getting old. I wonder if she gave it much thought; if having 5 kids and a daily life of intense work that didn't depend upon how she looked precluded a concern for the face in the mirror. (As opposed to my life, where how I look plays a part in my business success).
I do know she's used her body to its fullest and she's ready to shed her mortal coil (sorry, English major here). And I think she's ready for a shiny, healthy, brand new body in heaven.
So I guess the take away from this is:
Enjoy my youth and beauty for what it is NOW. Take care of myself NOW--body, mind, spirit (and skin). Accept that I will change. Learn to embrace my changing, aging face and body and love it for what it is. Be thankful every stinking day for everything my body can DO.
As I age, I hope I can see past the wrinkles and sags and crepes and spots...to the spirit-driven beauty within myself.
She is 84 and has lived a hard life. She and my grandpa had a farm, and she did all the work a farm wife has to do. She worked in nursing homes in her 50-60s. She is stubborn and did everything herself, and still does when she can, although that's gotten harder and harder.
When I was there last night, the nurse was changing her IV. Her veins collapse after an IV is in for a while, and they have to keep finding new veins. She hadn't eaten in a few days, and finally had dinner last night before I got there. She threw up after they changed her IV; she said it was probably too much food on her stomach that had been empty for days.
She didn't have her dentures in. She looked tired and frail. She talked about going into a nursing home but said my aunt doesn't want her to yet. My aunt and her family live with my grandma. They moved into her house 15 or so years ago, so she's never alone. My mom helps a lot too, taking her to appointments and to the hospital and staying with her.
Aside from noticing how frail she was, what got me was her skin. It is thin and crepe-y. Even her skin looks tired--which makes sense since it's the largest organ we have. Her inside upper arms were especially striking to me; not only thin and crepe lined, but flappy. I am not being judgemental, just explaining what I saw.
As I was leaving, I had a little freak out. *I* am going to be in my 80s someday (God willing). I will have skin like that. I will likely have skin like that before I'm 80.
I love my skin. I pamper it with skin care products and makeup and body lotions. I'm blessed to have good genes and fair skin that hasn't been in the sun too much. I don't look my age.
Sometimes I don't have time for body lotion, and I don't put lotion everywhere (like my inner/upper arms). This morning I put lotion on my upper arms. And I couldn't help but think, is there a miracle product I can buy at Sephora that will stave off my skin aging too soon?
Aging is showing up more in my hands than anywhere else. "When did I start getting my grandmothers' hands?" I said to myself a year or so ago. My earliest memories of my grandmothers are in their 50s. And at age 6, I of course thought they were old then.
It's no wonder the beauty industry is a bazillion dollar business. I am freaked by the idea of looking older. Not getting older. Looking older. Obviously millions of other women are too.
My therapist once told me, when I first started seeing her and my primary complaint was the way I looked at 185 pounds, "you know, there will always be something you won't like about the way you look. How will you deal with getting older?" I don't really remember the solution she offered. I was so focused on getting the weight off and fixing my head about weight, I didn't bother processing how I'd think about myself as I got old.
John Ortberg, the Pastor at Menlo Park Presbyterian church whose online sermons I listen to, once told the story of an old woman who was beautiful. She was at that age where looks were superfluous, where her spirit shined through her face, and made the wrinkles beautiful. I know many women who fit that description, especially at my church.
That idea gives me a little peace, but it is the END result. It's the journey getting there and the entropy on the journey there that gives me pause.
I don't know how my grandma felt about getting old. I wonder if she gave it much thought; if having 5 kids and a daily life of intense work that didn't depend upon how she looked precluded a concern for the face in the mirror. (As opposed to my life, where how I look plays a part in my business success).
I do know she's used her body to its fullest and she's ready to shed her mortal coil (sorry, English major here). And I think she's ready for a shiny, healthy, brand new body in heaven.
So I guess the take away from this is:
Enjoy my youth and beauty for what it is NOW. Take care of myself NOW--body, mind, spirit (and skin). Accept that I will change. Learn to embrace my changing, aging face and body and love it for what it is. Be thankful every stinking day for everything my body can DO.
As I age, I hope I can see past the wrinkles and sags and crepes and spots...to the spirit-driven beauty within myself.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
What a difference a year makes (149.4)
A year ago today we moved our financial advising practice and joined a group of advisors at Ameripr*se (don't want to hit a search engine, so the *).
It has been challenging and rewarding. It has changed our lives. We have been successful and happy. Mark said yesterday I am blossoming in my roll here and he can tell I am so much happier. And I AM!
Our work environment was miserable for so long, and I basically shut down for quite a while. Here, I am with a team, who are supportive, intelligent, kind, and generous.
I love coming to work every day. I love our beautiful new office building. I love the girls and the other three advisors.
We are blessed beyond measure.
***
I have been swamped. Work is nuts, which isn't a bad thing. We had a client meeting Tuesday night and a client dinner an hour out of town last night. Both were great meetings, but it was a lot of extroversion and time away from home and the kids.
My weight is staying steady. I am fine with that, but I know it's not going to move until I start exercising and paying more attention to what I eat after 6 pm. I tend to eat the bulk of my calories at night, which is (duh) obviously not the best way to do things. It's okay, though. I am a work in progress.
It has been challenging and rewarding. It has changed our lives. We have been successful and happy. Mark said yesterday I am blossoming in my roll here and he can tell I am so much happier. And I AM!
Our work environment was miserable for so long, and I basically shut down for quite a while. Here, I am with a team, who are supportive, intelligent, kind, and generous.
I love coming to work every day. I love our beautiful new office building. I love the girls and the other three advisors.
We are blessed beyond measure.
***
I have been swamped. Work is nuts, which isn't a bad thing. We had a client meeting Tuesday night and a client dinner an hour out of town last night. Both were great meetings, but it was a lot of extroversion and time away from home and the kids.
My weight is staying steady. I am fine with that, but I know it's not going to move until I start exercising and paying more attention to what I eat after 6 pm. I tend to eat the bulk of my calories at night, which is (duh) obviously not the best way to do things. It's okay, though. I am a work in progress.
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