I've been happy and I thought you should know. Missing my mom is a daily occurrence, mostly while driving or late at night or while blog posting...and I am still so sorry she and I were unhealthy together, unhealthy for each other, unhelpful with the whatever it took to make changes for the better for us both.
My mom must be with me, feeling what I feel, because my ability to help myself has increased and gotten so much stronger in her absence. My ability to know when I need help outside of myself, not in an "I want someone else to do this for me!" way (and I totally did behave that way in the past) but in an "I want to do this and can use help!" way. A slight tweak of perspective and intention changes everything.
I do pray for the change I want to happen with my body - but I no longer pray for the will power to resist certain foods. I don't pray for the way my brain works to be different. I don't pray for my behavior to stop.
I pray for wisdom for a safe and healthy me, friends, family, community, world. That's all.
Today I take responsibility for my behavior and I love my brain and body. I love them because I understand how they work and, more importantly, how to work WITH them. I can use the example of a dysfunctional family, I guess. When people live in a dysfunctional family they learn to live the best they can within that funky dynamic. Some people even come out better, healthier for it.
I know my brain is going to wig out over certain things. I know my body's going to have difficulty some things I really wish it didn't. And I know that I can find ways to make health and vigor fun for both of them. That's the trick for me: fun. Well, fun or accomplishment. If it isn't fun, if it doesn't make me feel like "total win," I don't want to do it.
So, I make all the shit I don't want to do fun and full of accomplishment AND IT'S WORKING.
I used to ride on the praise of others...now I ride on my own cleverness and ability to get stuff done that I would normally get overwhelmed by and just ignore or hide from...or want someone else to do.
Am I losing weight? I haven't weighed myself to tell you. I'm still wearing smaller clothes and haven't broken their seams - so my guess is so far, so good.
Showing posts with label pray. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pray. Show all posts
Monday, January 14, 2013
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Memory Serves
PALM SPRINGS, CA - "Waitress Insults Fast Eater, Stuns Family"
We were sitting in a Denny's, eating breakfast, coming to the end of the happiest family vacation I can remember. Breakfast was my step-dad's favorite meal and, in true lover-of-food fashion, he graciously allowed us to order from anywhere on the menu.
We ordered big.
I can't remember liking anything but ham and eggs at that early age, but I'm sure I ordered what would come with toast, with pancakes, and a big, big glass of milk. (In a family full of fat people, this amount of food is common for a nine-year-old to order at a restaurant.)
Plates of pancakes were still steaming yet my step-brother, the skinniest of our bunch, announced he had finished everything on his plate - I mean he gloated that he was done before all the rest of us. Our waitress happened to be there just to see if we had everything we'd need. She saw the pride in my brother's smile, heard the tiny arrogance in his voice, and noticed he was looking to her for praise.
But, instead she made a face and said, "Pig!"
My brother's jaw hit the table. The rest of us laughed.
For years since we have preserved the memory of my brother being told. Well deserved, you smug, little show-off. The grown up me now stares at this scenario with a new appreciation for what my step-brother did.
In a family full of fat people, it's kind of great when you finish all of your food - especially if you happen to conquer something big. I remember being so proud of myself, and so full, and so satisfied with life, and so full, and so happy, and so full, when my step-dad looked at me and said, "God love ya, kid." because I'd finished a 12" pizza. I did that. I finished it. I never could before. And now that I did it, I had my step-father's attention and acceptance AND I had a recommendation for God to love me. I was proud of myself. I think I've finished every pub pizza thereafter, and we ordered pizza on Fridays religiously for years.
So, yeah, my brother expected the waitress to be pleased and find him super cute and exceedingly interesting and accomplished and and and and and. Why wouldn't he?
Food was LOVE.
We were sitting in a Denny's, eating breakfast, coming to the end of the happiest family vacation I can remember. Breakfast was my step-dad's favorite meal and, in true lover-of-food fashion, he graciously allowed us to order from anywhere on the menu.
We ordered big.
I can't remember liking anything but ham and eggs at that early age, but I'm sure I ordered what would come with toast, with pancakes, and a big, big glass of milk. (In a family full of fat people, this amount of food is common for a nine-year-old to order at a restaurant.)
Plates of pancakes were still steaming yet my step-brother, the skinniest of our bunch, announced he had finished everything on his plate - I mean he gloated that he was done before all the rest of us. Our waitress happened to be there just to see if we had everything we'd need. She saw the pride in my brother's smile, heard the tiny arrogance in his voice, and noticed he was looking to her for praise.
But, instead she made a face and said, "Pig!"
My brother's jaw hit the table. The rest of us laughed.
For years since we have preserved the memory of my brother being told. Well deserved, you smug, little show-off. The grown up me now stares at this scenario with a new appreciation for what my step-brother did.
In a family full of fat people, it's kind of great when you finish all of your food - especially if you happen to conquer something big. I remember being so proud of myself, and so full, and so satisfied with life, and so full, and so happy, and so full, when my step-dad looked at me and said, "God love ya, kid." because I'd finished a 12" pizza. I did that. I finished it. I never could before. And now that I did it, I had my step-father's attention and acceptance AND I had a recommendation for God to love me. I was proud of myself. I think I've finished every pub pizza thereafter, and we ordered pizza on Fridays religiously for years.
So, yeah, my brother expected the waitress to be pleased and find him super cute and exceedingly interesting and accomplished and and and and and. Why wouldn't he?
Food was LOVE.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Achey Me.
We're spending one on one time with Crackers (our cat) whenever we feel we can. He's up for being cuddled just a little. Mostly he wants to sit on his own, tucked away in the restroom on a towel I doubled up for him. He's moving pretty slowly and the phases our vet explained would happen are taking place. It's troubling letting your pet die on his own; yet, none of us is able to give a go ahead for euthanizing him. Either choice is a hard one...but we're pretty resolved to try comfort measures right now.
I feel bad for the times when he would hop up to be in my way and get some loving that I pushed him off or set him aside so he wouldn't be a nuisance or get in the way of what I was doing. Granted, I didn't do so EVERY time, but the times I did were pretty ignorant of me. It was only a few weeks ago. His decline has been rapid - too rapid - and heartbreaking, but we're trying to give him the dignity we'd give any one of our relatives who is dying by loving him the best we can while he's still among us.
It's the first we've ever done this. In the past, we've had a cat and two dogs who died very unexpectedly so there was no goodbye time, no extra TLC, no being with them through the scary part.
The vet believes Crackers understands what is happening and is doing what comes naturally to cats. We just love him so much.
I've had a horrible time with food all over again - and my ambition is half-hearted with just about everything. I'm sure some of it comes from worrying about and mourning my cat and some of it comes from worrying about my mom and stressing over her world of issues and some of it comes from that lonely feeling that happens when you realize at the bottom of your bottom there is no one to pull you out - it is really up to you and whatever faith you can muster.
If I didn't believe in God, I'd be an even deeper mess. But, I do. I really do. And I pray that we are doing what is right for Crackers and that we are being respectful as we hang with him these last days.
I feel bad for the times when he would hop up to be in my way and get some loving that I pushed him off or set him aside so he wouldn't be a nuisance or get in the way of what I was doing. Granted, I didn't do so EVERY time, but the times I did were pretty ignorant of me. It was only a few weeks ago. His decline has been rapid - too rapid - and heartbreaking, but we're trying to give him the dignity we'd give any one of our relatives who is dying by loving him the best we can while he's still among us.
It's the first we've ever done this. In the past, we've had a cat and two dogs who died very unexpectedly so there was no goodbye time, no extra TLC, no being with them through the scary part.
The vet believes Crackers understands what is happening and is doing what comes naturally to cats. We just love him so much.
I've had a horrible time with food all over again - and my ambition is half-hearted with just about everything. I'm sure some of it comes from worrying about and mourning my cat and some of it comes from worrying about my mom and stressing over her world of issues and some of it comes from that lonely feeling that happens when you realize at the bottom of your bottom there is no one to pull you out - it is really up to you and whatever faith you can muster.
If I didn't believe in God, I'd be an even deeper mess. But, I do. I really do. And I pray that we are doing what is right for Crackers and that we are being respectful as we hang with him these last days.
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