As is my wont during the Holiday season I have been dragging bottom. When I drag bottom I want to isolate. Thank God I have friends who won't allow me to slink off into oblivion. I HATE their "interference" and "nosiness" but boy do I need it.
I hit 201 pounds a week ago. Scary, very scary. I feel like I can't control my eating. I know I can. My answer is the food plan outlined in Kay Sheperd's books. I am again slowly moving toward an abstinent food life. I am soooo grateful for the information I know. I hate hating myself. If I eat abstinently then I feel good. Good physically, mentally and spiritually. I am again at the surrender point. Wanting what I want when I want it only leads to destruction. To be truly full and content I need to limit my eating. And my spending and my tv watching and my other undisciplined behaviours.
Thanksgiving Day was pretty good. We went to friends' and I overate but not too bad. The real killer was last week's church Greening and Christmas party. I knew I shouldn't go. My Christmas clothes were too tight and I felt like a slob. I knew I was too vulnerable. But it was my "duty" to attend. (This condition of being "dutified" is common to Us all. I have had this condition since childhood. Since I have spent a goodly portion of my life in church the condition has played out allot in that venue. I am always at odds with myself over what I "should" do and what I want to do. Since God is involved the weight of the "shoulds" is heavy.) So I went. I had problems from the get go. I won't go into all of it but the evening came to a close with me telling off the pastor. Gad. I am an ass.
God has given me some revelations in the days since the party.
1. God does not see me as I see myself or as the culture sees me. He loves me unconditionally and desires my companionship above my service.
2. I cannot respect/love myself and be out of control.
3. I will not progress in any other area of my life until I completely embrace and address my food addictions.
4. Recovery is not selfish. It is God honoring at my highest.
So...
1. I went back on the hormones. I slapped a patch on my butt two days ago. I hope to be sleeping more in the nights to come. I hope to soon be flashing less. I hope to pick less doctrinal fights with the pastor.
2. I increased my Vit D to 4000 units per day. I got out my sunlight lamp and put it by my chair.
3. I am resigning myself to shoveling snow for an hour per day. I am looking at it as my exercise program instead of resenting it.
4. I am working my way back to the food plan. Each day I get more of the sugar and flour out of my diet and house. I found my food scale and am using it. I am using the measuring cups.
5. I put my bathroom scale in the closet.
6. I bought some new larger size clothing.
7. I am reaching out to friends and being vulnerable.
8. I am refusing to feel guilty about not measuring up to my standards of what a Christian should be.
9. I am reading my Bible daily with an eye for revelation.
10. I am praying so as to be "with" God.
Amen and the end.
Love Lynn
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Septic Harvest
Thank you all for continuing to check in with me. I appreciate it.
Well...I have been busy. The weather continues fine. We built a portico over the back door. We are building a tunnel thing over the garage door. The tunnel will divert the snow sliding off the roof and I will not need a pick ax to enter the garage from the back yard. We moved a pile of dirt to the back-yard. First we sifted out the rocks with small gauge wire fencing. This whole process was not as much fun as you might imagine. I planted about a hundred million tulips and daffodils in my gigantic flower bed. We put more pavers down in front of the back step. Ditto on fun. Today I weed and fed the lawn. We have four more storm windows to put in and then we are done. Yeah. I still have to wash half of the outside windows. Most of the inside ones are clean. I washed my comforter today and hung it outside to dry. Tomorrow is the living room drapes and all our winter gear I didn't get washed in the spring. It is supposed to snow by the week end so I am making hay while the sun shines.
My dryer blew up last week and I have spent much money getting the old thing functional again. Why do repair men never arrive on time? I wasted two days waiting for the guy. Very frustrating. I have been wined and dined by all the snow birds who went home in the past two weeks. I am very fat but had a GREAT time. Jackson Hole is beautiful right now, very few tourists. I am sad about yoga Fran leaving for the winter. I will miss her like the dickens. I taped her class and am going to do the routine at home with the dog. She will be my dogini.
I have been cooking like mad. Must be the Fall air. I made some pumpkin apple soup to die for. I "put up" fifteen quart containers of apples from our tree. I also made twelve pints of apple butter. I have been making apple desserts on the weekends. Mark thinks he has died and gone to heaven. On the weekends I also have been making big meat, i.e. pork roast, beef roast, ham, chicken or turkey. I cook the meat and veg on Friday and we eat on it all weekend. I have been putting the apple sauce over the pork roast before I bake it. Scrumptious. I have a friend with a huge garden. She had landed me with green beans, turnips, carrots, parsnips and beets. I froze most of the green beans and made borscht a couple of times with the turnips and beets. The carrots and parsnips are going in with the roasts. Speaking of tomatoes. I am still getting big fat red tomatoes. You have no idea how rare that is for this part of the world. I dutifully cover the tomato plant every night and so far it has not frozen. Has been getting down to 20-30 degrees at night. And now about the septic tank.
After our septic tank adventure we were left with a big area of bare dirt in the lawn. I was not bothered by this but Mark wanted me to replant grass. Okay, I found a baggy of grass seed in the garage and threw it down. A week later Mark came to me and said "you have got to see this." I dutifully followed him to the side yard. Low and behold, over our septic tank is an area of the most chartreuse green you can imagine. "What did you plant he asked?" " I think it's lettuce." Yep. We now are enjoying a regal harvest of fresh lettuce. It must be the heat coming from the septic tank that's keeping it from freezing. We are the talk of the neighborhood. My friend with the huge garden just put her septic tank area into spinach. Who knew.
And now I'm done. I hope to be reading and posting on a more frequent basis soon. Santa has said we might get a laptop for Christmas. I am not holding my breath. I hope you all are having a wonderful fall. I am.
Take care, Love Lynn
P.S. We had a wonderful time in Yellowstone and Teton Parks. We saw every kind of wild life but bears. We were the exception. Everyone we talked to had seen bears. Herds of them. Walking down the road and halting traffic just like the buffalo. Phooey. We had a fun time with our friends. There is nothing like vacationing with people of the same age and interests. Are you interested in a repeat next year Kim???
Well...I have been busy. The weather continues fine. We built a portico over the back door. We are building a tunnel thing over the garage door. The tunnel will divert the snow sliding off the roof and I will not need a pick ax to enter the garage from the back yard. We moved a pile of dirt to the back-yard. First we sifted out the rocks with small gauge wire fencing. This whole process was not as much fun as you might imagine. I planted about a hundred million tulips and daffodils in my gigantic flower bed. We put more pavers down in front of the back step. Ditto on fun. Today I weed and fed the lawn. We have four more storm windows to put in and then we are done. Yeah. I still have to wash half of the outside windows. Most of the inside ones are clean. I washed my comforter today and hung it outside to dry. Tomorrow is the living room drapes and all our winter gear I didn't get washed in the spring. It is supposed to snow by the week end so I am making hay while the sun shines.
My dryer blew up last week and I have spent much money getting the old thing functional again. Why do repair men never arrive on time? I wasted two days waiting for the guy. Very frustrating. I have been wined and dined by all the snow birds who went home in the past two weeks. I am very fat but had a GREAT time. Jackson Hole is beautiful right now, very few tourists. I am sad about yoga Fran leaving for the winter. I will miss her like the dickens. I taped her class and am going to do the routine at home with the dog. She will be my dogini.
I have been cooking like mad. Must be the Fall air. I made some pumpkin apple soup to die for. I "put up" fifteen quart containers of apples from our tree. I also made twelve pints of apple butter. I have been making apple desserts on the weekends. Mark thinks he has died and gone to heaven. On the weekends I also have been making big meat, i.e. pork roast, beef roast, ham, chicken or turkey. I cook the meat and veg on Friday and we eat on it all weekend. I have been putting the apple sauce over the pork roast before I bake it. Scrumptious. I have a friend with a huge garden. She had landed me with green beans, turnips, carrots, parsnips and beets. I froze most of the green beans and made borscht a couple of times with the turnips and beets. The carrots and parsnips are going in with the roasts. Speaking of tomatoes. I am still getting big fat red tomatoes. You have no idea how rare that is for this part of the world. I dutifully cover the tomato plant every night and so far it has not frozen. Has been getting down to 20-30 degrees at night. And now about the septic tank.
After our septic tank adventure we were left with a big area of bare dirt in the lawn. I was not bothered by this but Mark wanted me to replant grass. Okay, I found a baggy of grass seed in the garage and threw it down. A week later Mark came to me and said "you have got to see this." I dutifully followed him to the side yard. Low and behold, over our septic tank is an area of the most chartreuse green you can imagine. "What did you plant he asked?" " I think it's lettuce." Yep. We now are enjoying a regal harvest of fresh lettuce. It must be the heat coming from the septic tank that's keeping it from freezing. We are the talk of the neighborhood. My friend with the huge garden just put her septic tank area into spinach. Who knew.
And now I'm done. I hope to be reading and posting on a more frequent basis soon. Santa has said we might get a laptop for Christmas. I am not holding my breath. I hope you all are having a wonderful fall. I am.
Take care, Love Lynn
P.S. We had a wonderful time in Yellowstone and Teton Parks. We saw every kind of wild life but bears. We were the exception. Everyone we talked to had seen bears. Herds of them. Walking down the road and halting traffic just like the buffalo. Phooey. We had a fun time with our friends. There is nothing like vacationing with people of the same age and interests. Are you interested in a repeat next year Kim???
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
On The Road Again
Friend Kim and new cute husband arrive soon. We will visit for a bit and them we are all going to go to Yellowstone. Yeah. I am ready for some R & R. I am tired of cooking and cleaning. I want to be waited on.
I am watching the dog. She ate a bunch of grass on which I had just sprayed weed killer. First time she has ever done that. I gave her dog treats. These make her thirsty and she drank a lot of water. I hope I diluted the stuff. Gad.
Okay off to make soup and inflate a bed. Hosta la veesta Babies.
Bea
I am watching the dog. She ate a bunch of grass on which I had just sprayed weed killer. First time she has ever done that. I gave her dog treats. These make her thirsty and she drank a lot of water. I hope I diluted the stuff. Gad.
Okay off to make soup and inflate a bed. Hosta la veesta Babies.
Bea
Friday, September 3, 2010
"Life's Been Good To Me So Far"
In our little community church I am a rock star. I was the second keynote speaker at our women's retreat. In the morning I talked about the Western Christian tradition of meditation. In the afternoon I led two guided meditations. I was a hit. Only it wasn't me. Yes I studied for two weeks. Yes this is a subject about which I am very knowledgeable. Yes I have some little ability as a public speaker. But...when I got up to speak nothing came out like I had planned it. I don't even remember half of what I said. I opened my mouth and out it flowed. I think I gave a sermon. People laughed and then they cried. It was amazing, for all of us.
I have been asking God to use me. I never expected He would latch onto my gift of gab. Yes, I am a talker. Always have been. I have thought of it as a curse. Like my fat. The plump woman who could not keep her mouth shut. Believe me when I tell you I say some of the dumbest things known to woman kind. And people listen to and believe me. They always have. I have frequently felt like a big ole fakey manipulator. I know I can be persuasive. I thought using this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. I can't just leave the obvious alone. I have to jazz it up a bit. I love adjectives and adverbs. They contain the color of life. I long to present life with more pathos, gravity, excitement and humor than it actually contains. I have been told this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. When I talk or write I always try to have a governor on my mind/mouth. It is frustrating.
When I got up to talk something happened to me. The governor came off. I was free. Soaringly, leapingly free. All the superlatives in my mind and mouth were/are not enough to describe God. Telling people about God's love and having them listen to and believe me felt TRUE. Suddenly I was completely what God created me to be. In that moment I came to myself. In God. I was not self conscious. I was God conscious. What gracious liberty I was given. I am grateful. So grateful.
If you have been reading for a while you know what a burden my self is to me. It is too fat. It is too timid. It is too arrogant. It is too undisciplined. It is too judgemental. It is too self depreciating (tee-hee). I have longed to be shed of it. Food for me offered/s the release. I know this is not what God has in mind when the Bible talks about "dying unto self." We are meant to love ourselves as we love others so dying unto self cannot mean abandoning my self with addictions. I think I had a taste of what it means to die unto self. My willingness to be used by God lit up my God conscious enough to fade out my self conscious. I realize I have just described what happens during meditation. Amazing.
Okay back down to earth. I am having trouble with the praise I am receiving. Five women surrounded me in a restaurant yesterday with praises. I didn't know how to respond. I know it wasn't me. God came through me. So I said that. It is all I can say.
Take care, Love Lynn
I have been asking God to use me. I never expected He would latch onto my gift of gab. Yes, I am a talker. Always have been. I have thought of it as a curse. Like my fat. The plump woman who could not keep her mouth shut. Believe me when I tell you I say some of the dumbest things known to woman kind. And people listen to and believe me. They always have. I have frequently felt like a big ole fakey manipulator. I know I can be persuasive. I thought using this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. I can't just leave the obvious alone. I have to jazz it up a bit. I love adjectives and adverbs. They contain the color of life. I long to present life with more pathos, gravity, excitement and humor than it actually contains. I have been told this gift was LYING. And sometimes it has been. When I talk or write I always try to have a governor on my mind/mouth. It is frustrating.
When I got up to talk something happened to me. The governor came off. I was free. Soaringly, leapingly free. All the superlatives in my mind and mouth were/are not enough to describe God. Telling people about God's love and having them listen to and believe me felt TRUE. Suddenly I was completely what God created me to be. In that moment I came to myself. In God. I was not self conscious. I was God conscious. What gracious liberty I was given. I am grateful. So grateful.
If you have been reading for a while you know what a burden my self is to me. It is too fat. It is too timid. It is too arrogant. It is too undisciplined. It is too judgemental. It is too self depreciating (tee-hee). I have longed to be shed of it. Food for me offered/s the release. I know this is not what God has in mind when the Bible talks about "dying unto self." We are meant to love ourselves as we love others so dying unto self cannot mean abandoning my self with addictions. I think I had a taste of what it means to die unto self. My willingness to be used by God lit up my God conscious enough to fade out my self conscious. I realize I have just described what happens during meditation. Amazing.
Okay back down to earth. I am having trouble with the praise I am receiving. Five women surrounded me in a restaurant yesterday with praises. I didn't know how to respond. I know it wasn't me. God came through me. So I said that. It is all I can say.
Take care, Love Lynn
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The Great Septic Tank Hunt
Life here is just dandy. We found the septic tank and had it pumped out this morning. I now know way more about cesspools, leech fields, septic tanks and vaults than any nice woman should be forced to learn.
I have never lived in a house with a septic tank. I just figured plumbing was plumbing. You pushed the handle and woosh, everything worked. I have been living in a fool's paradise, with a flush toilet. Spring/summer cleaning needed done. I did it. I washed everything in the house not nailed down. A couple of weeks passed. We had guests. They took showers and needed laundry done. No problemo, right? Wrong. Problems, big problems. Apparently the extra water and soap I used doing massive amounts of laundry, and then cleaning house like a mad woman for company, killed off the few bacteria still left alive in our system. And our system was full. Over full it turns out. The guests put stress on the failing system, and it failed. Hello hotel. Gad, how embarrassing.
Okay so we needed the system pumped out, no problem right? Problemo. No one knew where the septic tank was. The information we were given when we bought the house was incorrect. In fact we were outright lied to. We were told the system was on the southeast corner of the house and had been pumped out three years ago. We plunged rebar in the lawn (per advise of the septic company) looking for the tank until we were about dead. We found enough big rocks to build a nice size fireplace, but no tank. I called the county planning office. Mistake. According to their records our old house did not have a septic tank it had a cesspool and, "Cesspools were outlawed in this county in 1981 and you will have to put in a septic tank. We're not sure where you'll put the tank as the only place for it on your small lot is too close to your water line." What is a cesspool you ask? According to the county planner, "A cesspool is a privy without a top. It is a big hole lined with railroad ties and filled with rocks. Railroad ties are placed over the cavern and covered with dirt. The main drain from the house runs into it. The old timers always planted two lilac bushes over the top of it. These were good little systems and can work for years. But when they fail you have to back fill them and put in a septic tank. Do you have any big old thriving lilacs side by side?" Yes, we do. Probably at least fifteen feet high. Shit. No pun intended.
Mark and I went outside and stared at our bushes. They are a wonder. No wonder. We wondered what to do. Mark had a brainstorm, we would call the former owner. We would ask him what exactly he had had pumped out just before we bought the house, and where this pumping had taken place. Mistake. The former owner was jovial and glad to hear from us. "I see you are fixing up that little rental I sold you" he said "it looks great." Where is the septic tank you had pumped out just before we bought the property we asked. "I never pumped out anything" he said "I think it has a cesspool." We told him his real estate agent had put in writing that the house had a septic tank on the southeast corner. He laughed. "That guy" he said "he could sell wool to sheep." Mark hung up on him. We stared at each other some more. How much money do we have in the savings account he asked. Not enough.
I am not sure how this would have turned out if the neighbor had not come over a couple of days ago while we were outside. He volunteered to lend us his lawn aerator. Said it was much more effective than doing it by hand. (The rebar you know.) We told him our problem. "The septic tank is right next to the garage" he said "Howard put it in in 1996." Who is Howard we asked? Turns out he owned the house before the former owner. "I can show you where the tank is and where the pump out lid is." And he did. We called Howard. The system had NEVER been pumped out. Fourteen years is some sort of record.
This is the end of the great septic tank hunt. We have an empty vault, we met some nice people and we know why our lilac bushes are the best in the neighborhood. All's well that ends well.
Love Bea
I have never lived in a house with a septic tank. I just figured plumbing was plumbing. You pushed the handle and woosh, everything worked. I have been living in a fool's paradise, with a flush toilet. Spring/summer cleaning needed done. I did it. I washed everything in the house not nailed down. A couple of weeks passed. We had guests. They took showers and needed laundry done. No problemo, right? Wrong. Problems, big problems. Apparently the extra water and soap I used doing massive amounts of laundry, and then cleaning house like a mad woman for company, killed off the few bacteria still left alive in our system. And our system was full. Over full it turns out. The guests put stress on the failing system, and it failed. Hello hotel. Gad, how embarrassing.
Okay so we needed the system pumped out, no problem right? Problemo. No one knew where the septic tank was. The information we were given when we bought the house was incorrect. In fact we were outright lied to. We were told the system was on the southeast corner of the house and had been pumped out three years ago. We plunged rebar in the lawn (per advise of the septic company) looking for the tank until we were about dead. We found enough big rocks to build a nice size fireplace, but no tank. I called the county planning office. Mistake. According to their records our old house did not have a septic tank it had a cesspool and, "Cesspools were outlawed in this county in 1981 and you will have to put in a septic tank. We're not sure where you'll put the tank as the only place for it on your small lot is too close to your water line." What is a cesspool you ask? According to the county planner, "A cesspool is a privy without a top. It is a big hole lined with railroad ties and filled with rocks. Railroad ties are placed over the cavern and covered with dirt. The main drain from the house runs into it. The old timers always planted two lilac bushes over the top of it. These were good little systems and can work for years. But when they fail you have to back fill them and put in a septic tank. Do you have any big old thriving lilacs side by side?" Yes, we do. Probably at least fifteen feet high. Shit. No pun intended.
Mark and I went outside and stared at our bushes. They are a wonder. No wonder. We wondered what to do. Mark had a brainstorm, we would call the former owner. We would ask him what exactly he had had pumped out just before we bought the house, and where this pumping had taken place. Mistake. The former owner was jovial and glad to hear from us. "I see you are fixing up that little rental I sold you" he said "it looks great." Where is the septic tank you had pumped out just before we bought the property we asked. "I never pumped out anything" he said "I think it has a cesspool." We told him his real estate agent had put in writing that the house had a septic tank on the southeast corner. He laughed. "That guy" he said "he could sell wool to sheep." Mark hung up on him. We stared at each other some more. How much money do we have in the savings account he asked. Not enough.
I am not sure how this would have turned out if the neighbor had not come over a couple of days ago while we were outside. He volunteered to lend us his lawn aerator. Said it was much more effective than doing it by hand. (The rebar you know.) We told him our problem. "The septic tank is right next to the garage" he said "Howard put it in in 1996." Who is Howard we asked? Turns out he owned the house before the former owner. "I can show you where the tank is and where the pump out lid is." And he did. We called Howard. The system had NEVER been pumped out. Fourteen years is some sort of record.
This is the end of the great septic tank hunt. We have an empty vault, we met some nice people and we know why our lilac bushes are the best in the neighborhood. All's well that ends well.
Love Bea
Monday, July 19, 2010
Making the Best of a Bad Situation
It is hotter than hell up here. We are having company this weekend and I am supposed to be cleaning the upstairs. Mark's office is about a foot deep in junk and this is where the guests will sleep. I am stalled. Phooey.
We got back from our latest adventure a week ago. I am finally recovered. Another thousand miles on the car in a few days just about killed me, but we had a great time. We met Mark's family in Sheridan and then all went up to his sister's wedding in Livingston MT. The wedding was at a rented church camp way up in the mountains. We were not prepared for how "way up" it was going to be and ran out of gas. Mark's sister (not the one getting married) thought it a great adventure. His wife thought it was a pain in the ass. Thank God the cell phone worked in between the two huge mountains and we were rescued.
The sister getting married was having her own adventure while we were stranded on the mountainside in the blazing sun. Her wedding dress didn't fit. And when I say "didn't fit" think vital parts of her anatomy hanging out. A casual wedding was planned and the bride purchased her turquoise and tan gauzy sundress in Florida four months ago. Four months and about thirty-five or forty pounds ago. The top of the long flowing dress did not begin to cover her breasts and the strap ties would not hook in the back. A crisis ensued. How to cover the bride's boobs? The bride began crying and did not stop for an hour. Eventually (we gas less ones missed most of this) the new sister-in-law saved the day. First she told the bride to shut up. Told her she was not "a fat slob" and that ALL brides looked beautiful. Told her she had a choice, she could ruin her wedding day over a "non-essential" or she could "suck it up and smile." Then the sister-in-law sent an SOS around the camp to all the other cabins looking for some sort of decorative pin and a half slip. Miracle of miracles, one woman had a big turquoise pin and another had a cream colored half slip. Why she had a half slip for a camping expedition was never fully explained. Anyway the sister-in-law took the outer skirt and gathered it up in the front. She pulled this extra material up and fanned it out over the brides chest and pinned the whole frothy swath in front at the empire waist. Voila, a ruffle over the offending boobs. She then tied the ties around the bride's neck making a halter top. The bride put on the half slip and the see through gauze underskirt became wedding approved. The bride looked in the mirror and said, "I look like I'm pregnant" and began to cry again. Sister-in-law stepped in. "Stop that. This is what you look like. My brother knows what you look like. He likes it. Who else matters?" Who indeed? The bride cheered up, giggled in fact, and we had a wedding.
Running out of gas, an ill fitting wedding dress, and the varying responses set me to thinking. It is all about how you respond to things. It's a choice. It is a chance to respond negatively or positively. I can change my feelings with my response. Or if not, at least I don't have to make everyone around me miserable.
I learned something valuable.
Take care, Bea
P.S. Chico Hot Springs was a treat. We stayed in the old lodge. Next time we will stay in the cabins overlooking the valley. We had one of the best dinners I have ever had. The flaming frozen chocolate orange was worth the price of the meal. Bye
We got back from our latest adventure a week ago. I am finally recovered. Another thousand miles on the car in a few days just about killed me, but we had a great time. We met Mark's family in Sheridan and then all went up to his sister's wedding in Livingston MT. The wedding was at a rented church camp way up in the mountains. We were not prepared for how "way up" it was going to be and ran out of gas. Mark's sister (not the one getting married) thought it a great adventure. His wife thought it was a pain in the ass. Thank God the cell phone worked in between the two huge mountains and we were rescued.
The sister getting married was having her own adventure while we were stranded on the mountainside in the blazing sun. Her wedding dress didn't fit. And when I say "didn't fit" think vital parts of her anatomy hanging out. A casual wedding was planned and the bride purchased her turquoise and tan gauzy sundress in Florida four months ago. Four months and about thirty-five or forty pounds ago. The top of the long flowing dress did not begin to cover her breasts and the strap ties would not hook in the back. A crisis ensued. How to cover the bride's boobs? The bride began crying and did not stop for an hour. Eventually (we gas less ones missed most of this) the new sister-in-law saved the day. First she told the bride to shut up. Told her she was not "a fat slob" and that ALL brides looked beautiful. Told her she had a choice, she could ruin her wedding day over a "non-essential" or she could "suck it up and smile." Then the sister-in-law sent an SOS around the camp to all the other cabins looking for some sort of decorative pin and a half slip. Miracle of miracles, one woman had a big turquoise pin and another had a cream colored half slip. Why she had a half slip for a camping expedition was never fully explained. Anyway the sister-in-law took the outer skirt and gathered it up in the front. She pulled this extra material up and fanned it out over the brides chest and pinned the whole frothy swath in front at the empire waist. Voila, a ruffle over the offending boobs. She then tied the ties around the bride's neck making a halter top. The bride put on the half slip and the see through gauze underskirt became wedding approved. The bride looked in the mirror and said, "I look like I'm pregnant" and began to cry again. Sister-in-law stepped in. "Stop that. This is what you look like. My brother knows what you look like. He likes it. Who else matters?" Who indeed? The bride cheered up, giggled in fact, and we had a wedding.
Running out of gas, an ill fitting wedding dress, and the varying responses set me to thinking. It is all about how you respond to things. It's a choice. It is a chance to respond negatively or positively. I can change my feelings with my response. Or if not, at least I don't have to make everyone around me miserable.
I learned something valuable.
Take care, Bea
P.S. Chico Hot Springs was a treat. We stayed in the old lodge. Next time we will stay in the cabins overlooking the valley. We had one of the best dinners I have ever had. The flaming frozen chocolate orange was worth the price of the meal. Bye
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Rushing
We were gone half of last week and we are leaving again on Friday. I am stressed out about trying to get up and running for summer and all this travel is driving me nuts.
I finally got the gigantic flower bed planted (60 plants) and also window boxes and barrels at front step. My five roses in barrels died. Wayyyyy to much rain. In their places I have planted rhubarb, strawberries, a tomato plant, lavender and day lilies. Over the weekend we got out the patio furniture and grill and furnished the deck. Mark has killed the weeds in the lawn twice. They are thriving. I will drag out the hoses tonight to start watering. I have half the storm windows out. I have half the windows washed on the inside. I have half the curtains washed, ironed and rehung. I also still have to wash throw rugs, our bed comforter and the living room slip covers. It is so good to hang stuff on the line. (My small old beloved dryer will not accommodate much more than clothing.) Then I will start cleaning the house. First project is to shampoo the rug. Then I will wash walls in the kitchen. Phooey.
Mark said the other day that we live in winter country. He is so right. Being holed up in a house for eight months makes us all crazy come summer. We go like gangbusters for July, August and September and then it is time for winter again. If you don't hit the ground running at the end of June, poof, summer is gone. I have to say, it is bea-uuu-tiful here right now. Spring flowers and blinding green grass. This won't last long. It was 90 degrees earlier today. In a few days the grass will start turning brown. Oh and the mosquitoes. They flew the dog around the yard last eve. She was not amused.
I quit drastic for diet. Turns out the equivalent of Medifast does not mesh with my constitution. I need MUCH, MUCH more fiber and protein. Gad. That protein powder went in like paste and came out like cement. Holy moly. My digestive system may never return to normal. I was thrilled to eat oatmeal and blueberries Sunday morning. I am fairly okay with my weight at present. We will see how I am after this weekend. I have to go to a wedding. I hope to not focus on my fat and to enjoy the people around me. Some of the folks are real judgemental. Say a prayer for me to just let all the comments roll off, or to be brave enough to respond in kind. I am getting my toenails touched up tomorrow. Maybe I will just flash those at the "skinny" police.
Okay have to run. I need to make reservations at Chico Hot Springs and at the dog resort (jail).
Take care. Love Bea
I finally got the gigantic flower bed planted (60 plants) and also window boxes and barrels at front step. My five roses in barrels died. Wayyyyy to much rain. In their places I have planted rhubarb, strawberries, a tomato plant, lavender and day lilies. Over the weekend we got out the patio furniture and grill and furnished the deck. Mark has killed the weeds in the lawn twice. They are thriving. I will drag out the hoses tonight to start watering. I have half the storm windows out. I have half the windows washed on the inside. I have half the curtains washed, ironed and rehung. I also still have to wash throw rugs, our bed comforter and the living room slip covers. It is so good to hang stuff on the line. (My small old beloved dryer will not accommodate much more than clothing.) Then I will start cleaning the house. First project is to shampoo the rug. Then I will wash walls in the kitchen. Phooey.
Mark said the other day that we live in winter country. He is so right. Being holed up in a house for eight months makes us all crazy come summer. We go like gangbusters for July, August and September and then it is time for winter again. If you don't hit the ground running at the end of June, poof, summer is gone. I have to say, it is bea-uuu-tiful here right now. Spring flowers and blinding green grass. This won't last long. It was 90 degrees earlier today. In a few days the grass will start turning brown. Oh and the mosquitoes. They flew the dog around the yard last eve. She was not amused.
I quit drastic for diet. Turns out the equivalent of Medifast does not mesh with my constitution. I need MUCH, MUCH more fiber and protein. Gad. That protein powder went in like paste and came out like cement. Holy moly. My digestive system may never return to normal. I was thrilled to eat oatmeal and blueberries Sunday morning. I am fairly okay with my weight at present. We will see how I am after this weekend. I have to go to a wedding. I hope to not focus on my fat and to enjoy the people around me. Some of the folks are real judgemental. Say a prayer for me to just let all the comments roll off, or to be brave enough to respond in kind. I am getting my toenails touched up tomorrow. Maybe I will just flash those at the "skinny" police.
Okay have to run. I need to make reservations at Chico Hot Springs and at the dog resort (jail).
Take care. Love Bea
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Maintenance
I am alive again. Thank You God.
Looks like Mark is going to get to keep his job and current salary. Our health insurance may be cut in half. The county budget is tight but NO ONE was laid off. The county attorney budget short falls were finally found to have been due to Mark's former boss's mismanagement and not Mark's. His good name is clear again. We are all grateful.
Okay, in the past week I have joined Curves, gone to yoga, had a chiropractic adjustment, had my teeth cleaned, gone to coffee with the girls, had my hair cut and dyed, had my legs waxed and started Drastic with diet.
I have not been spending any money for a couple of months. Fear you know. Well, getting all of the above done was not cheap and sort of sent me into sticker shock and guilt. No job you know. I always feel bad about spending money on my body when I am not the one earning the salary. I told Mark I felt guilty about spending money on myself and did he want to do something nice for himself. He promptly said he wanted to buy a $70 computer game. I said, "No I mean something nice for your body. Like I have been doing. Pampering yourself." He looked at me like I had lost my mind. "What do you mean pampering? All that stuff is just routine maintenance." Hold the phone Nellie. "Routine maintenance?" Getting your legs waxed? We had a real enlightening conversation after that. Turns out my husband wants me to do girly stuff and look girly. He asked my why I had quit painting my toenails! I was poleaxed.
My female relatives and church taught me to believe anything more than clean and neat for a woman was the apex of vanity and selfishness. The feminists taught me to devalue anything smacking of "feminine wiles." Sexual abuse taught me to hate my body, so why be nice to it or decorate it. I guess I just assumed Mark shared my views. Gad. I feel liberated. Is that not hilarious? After all that feminist crap I feel liberated when "given permission" to treasure my body and become a "high maintenance" chick. This could get damn interesting.
Take care. I love you all. Lynn
Looks like Mark is going to get to keep his job and current salary. Our health insurance may be cut in half. The county budget is tight but NO ONE was laid off. The county attorney budget short falls were finally found to have been due to Mark's former boss's mismanagement and not Mark's. His good name is clear again. We are all grateful.
Okay, in the past week I have joined Curves, gone to yoga, had a chiropractic adjustment, had my teeth cleaned, gone to coffee with the girls, had my hair cut and dyed, had my legs waxed and started Drastic with diet.
I have not been spending any money for a couple of months. Fear you know. Well, getting all of the above done was not cheap and sort of sent me into sticker shock and guilt. No job you know. I always feel bad about spending money on my body when I am not the one earning the salary. I told Mark I felt guilty about spending money on myself and did he want to do something nice for himself. He promptly said he wanted to buy a $70 computer game. I said, "No I mean something nice for your body. Like I have been doing. Pampering yourself." He looked at me like I had lost my mind. "What do you mean pampering? All that stuff is just routine maintenance." Hold the phone Nellie. "Routine maintenance?" Getting your legs waxed? We had a real enlightening conversation after that. Turns out my husband wants me to do girly stuff and look girly. He asked my why I had quit painting my toenails! I was poleaxed.
My female relatives and church taught me to believe anything more than clean and neat for a woman was the apex of vanity and selfishness. The feminists taught me to devalue anything smacking of "feminine wiles." Sexual abuse taught me to hate my body, so why be nice to it or decorate it. I guess I just assumed Mark shared my views. Gad. I feel liberated. Is that not hilarious? After all that feminist crap I feel liberated when "given permission" to treasure my body and become a "high maintenance" chick. This could get damn interesting.
Take care. I love you all. Lynn
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Rain
I think I am growing moss on my north side. The dog is so bored she just stares at me and whines. My roses are a sickly yellowish color. I am doubling up on my Vitamin D to counteract the gloom. The pigs next door are traveling around on water wings. The ducks laugh all day. And still it rains.
On the brighter side, a robin has moved into our car port rafters. She built a nice cozy nest directly over the driver side of our car. She refuses to vacate the nest so we are doing this sort of hula maneuver to enter and exit the car. Very tricky that. I will be glad when the babies are born and reared. It is fun to greet her each time I open the back door. On a less happy note, voles have moved into our basement. They tunneled around a basement window and took up residence in our old tax returns. Yuck. Mouse poops and urine all over everything. The cat ignores them. We plugged up the holes during a hiatus in the downpour and now just have to clean everything up. I refuse to do it alone so it will have to wait until the weekend. We put out traps. Nothing so far. I hope they moved out before we walled them in with Quick-Crete.
Still no job news. Turns out everyone in county government is nervous. I am only worrying about it from seven to eight p.m. every other day. Seems to be working.
On the fat front...who gives a rip? I am not gaining so I am not worrying. I started yoga again.
Yoga Fran came back from Florida. Gad am I stiff. It is great to start stretching again. I also bought some of those new "Sk*tchers" shoes. Thought they would be good for my posture and would give me a better workout while I walked. Not so much. I have plantar fascitis so bad I can hardly walk. I am not sure my feet will ever get back to normal. Those darn shoes were very expensive to be so lethal. I have a friend who is going to try to sell them for me on e-bay. I have worn them four times. I am going broke buying lineament for my feet. I also bought some heel pads for my shoes. Yoga Fran has me doing some stretches for my feet and ankles. I hope something works. I walk like and old lady.
I have been entertaining. Let me rephrase that. We have had two groups of people over for dinner. Was fun. I have figured out that four guests plus us is the ideal number. The house will seat them comfortably and food and dishes are not a chore. If it ever stops raining we will stain the deck, get the furniture out and entertain out there. I wish summer would arrive. Okay that's all. See you next month.
Love Bea
On the brighter side, a robin has moved into our car port rafters. She built a nice cozy nest directly over the driver side of our car. She refuses to vacate the nest so we are doing this sort of hula maneuver to enter and exit the car. Very tricky that. I will be glad when the babies are born and reared. It is fun to greet her each time I open the back door. On a less happy note, voles have moved into our basement. They tunneled around a basement window and took up residence in our old tax returns. Yuck. Mouse poops and urine all over everything. The cat ignores them. We plugged up the holes during a hiatus in the downpour and now just have to clean everything up. I refuse to do it alone so it will have to wait until the weekend. We put out traps. Nothing so far. I hope they moved out before we walled them in with Quick-Crete.
Still no job news. Turns out everyone in county government is nervous. I am only worrying about it from seven to eight p.m. every other day. Seems to be working.
On the fat front...who gives a rip? I am not gaining so I am not worrying. I started yoga again.
Yoga Fran came back from Florida. Gad am I stiff. It is great to start stretching again. I also bought some of those new "Sk*tchers" shoes. Thought they would be good for my posture and would give me a better workout while I walked. Not so much. I have plantar fascitis so bad I can hardly walk. I am not sure my feet will ever get back to normal. Those darn shoes were very expensive to be so lethal. I have a friend who is going to try to sell them for me on e-bay. I have worn them four times. I am going broke buying lineament for my feet. I also bought some heel pads for my shoes. Yoga Fran has me doing some stretches for my feet and ankles. I hope something works. I walk like and old lady.
I have been entertaining. Let me rephrase that. We have had two groups of people over for dinner. Was fun. I have figured out that four guests plus us is the ideal number. The house will seat them comfortably and food and dishes are not a chore. If it ever stops raining we will stain the deck, get the furniture out and entertain out there. I wish summer would arrive. Okay that's all. See you next month.
Love Bea
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Lusts of the Flesh
Has been a long time since my last post. Mostly I have been inert, with flurries of...self care. Surprised you didn't I.
I am not good at living in limbo land. The latest date for info about county budget cuts is June first. I hope we know by then if Mark has a full time job.
I am still s-l-0-w-l-y getting rid of stuff. I am now going through boxes of stuff I stored because I didn't know what else to do with it. You know about those. You forget about the contents until you open the box and think, "Oh crap it's this junk again." Very therapeutic on all levels.
My eating is good or bad depending on the day.
I just read a book by Susie Orbach called "Bodies." Very enlightening. You remember Susie, "Fat is a Feminist Issue" Susie. Has been years since I read anything by her. I'm not sure why I bought it. It was darn expensive for a paperback and I am paranoid about money right now. The book made me feel good. Like taking off a tight girdle, pardon me, shape wear pantie. I read the book, looked in the mirror and said, "Yep, that looks like me." Not "fat belly, bad Lynn", "droopy upper arms, disgusting", "wobbly double chin, all your fault," just..."yep that looks like me. I look amazingly like my mother." What a relief.
I am now reading "Having a Mary Spirit" by Joanna Weaver. Very enlightening. Joanna also wrote "Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World." Bought "Mary Spirit" after I bought "Bodies." To paraphrase Monty Python, I wanted something completely different. Turns out, not so much difference between the two. Joanna talks about the nature of "Flesh Woman." This would be the woman who sins by giving in to "fleshly" desires. This would be apple eating Eve and her ravenous daughters. Joanna forced me to confront my opposing thoughts about sins of the "flesh." I am not the only conflicted Christian out there. The Christian church has been divided about "fleshly" sin since Paul and Peter, and the Arian heresy. For 2000 years we have been taught sin resides not just in our sinful natures but also in our physical bodies. Those of us who suffer with cravings of various sorts have had no trouble believing the teaching. But just because we were taught heresy as truth does not make any the less heretical. The space between the joints in my elbow is not full of sin, it is full of synovial fluid. My red blood cells are not carrying sin, they are carrying oxygen. My body does not contain sin or cause me to sin. My sinful "appetites" do not arise in my digestive system. My ingrowing toenails are innocent of sin. Yes my poor body has had to endure the consequences of my sins but is sure isn't the cause.
So, what do Susie Orbach's Bodies and Joanna Weaver's Flesh Woman have in common? Both books say the obvious. Our physical bodies are just our bodies. They are not "good" if they are thin/beautiful and unsullied and "bad" if they are fat/ugly and commit sin. They are morally neutral. This is good news for a fatish sinnerish woman who has has a hell of a time caring for and about her "temple."
Take care. Love Bea
I am not good at living in limbo land. The latest date for info about county budget cuts is June first. I hope we know by then if Mark has a full time job.
I am still s-l-0-w-l-y getting rid of stuff. I am now going through boxes of stuff I stored because I didn't know what else to do with it. You know about those. You forget about the contents until you open the box and think, "Oh crap it's this junk again." Very therapeutic on all levels.
My eating is good or bad depending on the day.
I just read a book by Susie Orbach called "Bodies." Very enlightening. You remember Susie, "Fat is a Feminist Issue" Susie. Has been years since I read anything by her. I'm not sure why I bought it. It was darn expensive for a paperback and I am paranoid about money right now. The book made me feel good. Like taking off a tight girdle, pardon me, shape wear pantie. I read the book, looked in the mirror and said, "Yep, that looks like me." Not "fat belly, bad Lynn", "droopy upper arms, disgusting", "wobbly double chin, all your fault," just..."yep that looks like me. I look amazingly like my mother." What a relief.
I am now reading "Having a Mary Spirit" by Joanna Weaver. Very enlightening. Joanna also wrote "Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World." Bought "Mary Spirit" after I bought "Bodies." To paraphrase Monty Python, I wanted something completely different. Turns out, not so much difference between the two. Joanna talks about the nature of "Flesh Woman." This would be the woman who sins by giving in to "fleshly" desires. This would be apple eating Eve and her ravenous daughters. Joanna forced me to confront my opposing thoughts about sins of the "flesh." I am not the only conflicted Christian out there. The Christian church has been divided about "fleshly" sin since Paul and Peter, and the Arian heresy. For 2000 years we have been taught sin resides not just in our sinful natures but also in our physical bodies. Those of us who suffer with cravings of various sorts have had no trouble believing the teaching. But just because we were taught heresy as truth does not make any the less heretical. The space between the joints in my elbow is not full of sin, it is full of synovial fluid. My red blood cells are not carrying sin, they are carrying oxygen. My body does not contain sin or cause me to sin. My sinful "appetites" do not arise in my digestive system. My ingrowing toenails are innocent of sin. Yes my poor body has had to endure the consequences of my sins but is sure isn't the cause.
So, what do Susie Orbach's Bodies and Joanna Weaver's Flesh Woman have in common? Both books say the obvious. Our physical bodies are just our bodies. They are not "good" if they are thin/beautiful and unsullied and "bad" if they are fat/ugly and commit sin. They are morally neutral. This is good news for a fatish sinnerish woman who has has a hell of a time caring for and about her "temple."
Take care. Love Bea
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Guilt
I don't usually post two days in a row but I have to get this down on paper, or pixels, lest I forget. See yesterday's post for saga of Mark's job.
I was sitting on the couch today at 10:30 feeling guilty and eating bread and butter sandwiches. I felt guilty because it was 10:30 and I hadn't yet done anything.
Digression---I got up today at 5:30. I let dog out. I dressed, washed face, brushed teeth. I started coffee. I set up ironing board. I fed dog and cat. Mark got up. I ironed shirt and slacks for Mark. I turned on radio and listened to weather. I made cup of tea. Mark read his Bible and then showered. I cooked breakfast (oatmeal, eggs, grapefruit) while drinking tea and listening to local sports and birthday requests. Stripped sheets off bed and put them in the washer. Mark dressed and we sat down to eat. Finished eating and did Bible reading together. Mark put on coat and tie and left for work. I put on boots and went outside to drag huge black trash trolley to side of road. Went indoors and gathered up trash and ran it outside. Too late. Trash truck drove by and did not pick up trash. Again. Called trash people and argued with them about trash guy missing us every week. Trash girl was rude and said someone would be by to pick it up in the afternoon. Went inside and put on coat. Dog and I went outside to pooper scooper and feed birds. Came indoors fixed second cup of tea and sat down to do my devotions. Did devotions and then watched my preacher lady on television for 45 minutes. Got up from chair and transferred laundry to dryer. Noticed time. Felt horrible lazy and sat down on couch and gave in to tears and despair and bread. Felt guilty for not getting anything done.
As I was sitting there in my guilt, sniffing and eating my bread and butter, I chanced to tune into my thinking as my vision circled the room. My glance first fell on the television. I felt guilty for watching Joyce in the mornings. I felt guilty because there was a light layer of dust on the t.v.. I looked at the clock above the t.v., it was late and I wasn't doing anything. I looked at the walls. I hadn't washed them since we painted them three years ago. My eyes traveled to my desk. More dust. Inside a welter of unfiled stuff and indecision about what to discard. Also guilt about not sticking to budget better. Calendar came into view next. Gad, the days I have wasted doing nothing useful. Door next. The door has some scuff marks on it. Mirror next. Permanent streaks on mirror from years of spaying Windex on it instead of on rag first when cleaning. Mark's chair next, chair cover needs washed and side table needs dusted. Coat closet. Full of way to much stuff. Needs cleaned out. Front door. Needs screw tightened in doorknob. Green chair. Towel in chair seat is covered in cat hair. Window. Drapes need washed. Window is filthy after winter. My chair. Way to many books on side table. More dust. Magazine on the floor. Floor needs vacuumed. Sofa in front of picture window. Drapes need attention. Window is dirty. Cushions need cleaned. Cat hair on back of sofa where cat is sleeping in sun. Fat woman eating bread sitting on sofa feeling guilty about every damn thing in the room. I forgot the sleeping dog. Felt guilty I had not taken Mollie out for a run yet. (I did not feel guilty about the cat. She is living like a queen.)
My whole life has been based on feeling guilty for not measuring up. As the guilt piles up I feel overwhelmed and out of control. I hate feeling overwhelmed and out of control so I eat to ease the feeling. I then spiral deeper into guilt/despair for the eating and eventually become inert. Then I sleep.
Woke up at 2:00 pm. Prayed for deliverance from guilt. Prayed hard. I am not going to live like this. I am just not having it. I am not going to feel guilty for every f**king thing I do or do not do. Conviction comes from God. Guilt and condemnation do not. If I sin, I feel convicted, I say sorry, I make amends if possible, and I move on. If I feel guilty it is just tricks of the puny one and I stay stuck. NO MORE STUCK.
Take care. Love Bea
I was sitting on the couch today at 10:30 feeling guilty and eating bread and butter sandwiches. I felt guilty because it was 10:30 and I hadn't yet done anything.
Digression---I got up today at 5:30. I let dog out. I dressed, washed face, brushed teeth. I started coffee. I set up ironing board. I fed dog and cat. Mark got up. I ironed shirt and slacks for Mark. I turned on radio and listened to weather. I made cup of tea. Mark read his Bible and then showered. I cooked breakfast (oatmeal, eggs, grapefruit) while drinking tea and listening to local sports and birthday requests. Stripped sheets off bed and put them in the washer. Mark dressed and we sat down to eat. Finished eating and did Bible reading together. Mark put on coat and tie and left for work. I put on boots and went outside to drag huge black trash trolley to side of road. Went indoors and gathered up trash and ran it outside. Too late. Trash truck drove by and did not pick up trash. Again. Called trash people and argued with them about trash guy missing us every week. Trash girl was rude and said someone would be by to pick it up in the afternoon. Went inside and put on coat. Dog and I went outside to pooper scooper and feed birds. Came indoors fixed second cup of tea and sat down to do my devotions. Did devotions and then watched my preacher lady on television for 45 minutes. Got up from chair and transferred laundry to dryer. Noticed time. Felt horrible lazy and sat down on couch and gave in to tears and despair and bread. Felt guilty for not getting anything done.
As I was sitting there in my guilt, sniffing and eating my bread and butter, I chanced to tune into my thinking as my vision circled the room. My glance first fell on the television. I felt guilty for watching Joyce in the mornings. I felt guilty because there was a light layer of dust on the t.v.. I looked at the clock above the t.v., it was late and I wasn't doing anything. I looked at the walls. I hadn't washed them since we painted them three years ago. My eyes traveled to my desk. More dust. Inside a welter of unfiled stuff and indecision about what to discard. Also guilt about not sticking to budget better. Calendar came into view next. Gad, the days I have wasted doing nothing useful. Door next. The door has some scuff marks on it. Mirror next. Permanent streaks on mirror from years of spaying Windex on it instead of on rag first when cleaning. Mark's chair next, chair cover needs washed and side table needs dusted. Coat closet. Full of way to much stuff. Needs cleaned out. Front door. Needs screw tightened in doorknob. Green chair. Towel in chair seat is covered in cat hair. Window. Drapes need washed. Window is filthy after winter. My chair. Way to many books on side table. More dust. Magazine on the floor. Floor needs vacuumed. Sofa in front of picture window. Drapes need attention. Window is dirty. Cushions need cleaned. Cat hair on back of sofa where cat is sleeping in sun. Fat woman eating bread sitting on sofa feeling guilty about every damn thing in the room. I forgot the sleeping dog. Felt guilty I had not taken Mollie out for a run yet. (I did not feel guilty about the cat. She is living like a queen.)
My whole life has been based on feeling guilty for not measuring up. As the guilt piles up I feel overwhelmed and out of control. I hate feeling overwhelmed and out of control so I eat to ease the feeling. I then spiral deeper into guilt/despair for the eating and eventually become inert. Then I sleep.
Woke up at 2:00 pm. Prayed for deliverance from guilt. Prayed hard. I am not going to live like this. I am just not having it. I am not going to feel guilty for every f**king thing I do or do not do. Conviction comes from God. Guilt and condemnation do not. If I sin, I feel convicted, I say sorry, I make amends if possible, and I move on. If I feel guilty it is just tricks of the puny one and I stay stuck. NO MORE STUCK.
Take care. Love Bea
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Faith Less
Okay I can take a joke as well as the next guy, but eight inches is just silly. It was five below last Tuesday and today it's snowing. I'm so over winter.
Life goes along apace. One job interview down, a couple more to go.
If we have to move again it will really tell what I am made of faith wise. I demonstrated minimal faith during the last two moves. The move up here to our mountain paradise rental house happened so fast I didn't have time to panic and over control. Plus we sold our house at home and made money so I wasn't worried sick about finances. When we bought this house and moved I was exhausted and pissed off but not too fearful. This time will different.
Our house is worth $50,000 less than when we bought it three years ago. Fifty thousand dollars. I am having trouble even getting my mind around this fact. The market is flooded with for sale homes much nicer than ours. We have done a lot to this house but it is still ninety years old and small. I fear ain't no one out there a gonna want a vacation home with oodles of charm but no dishwasher. We are trying to figure out what to do about the house if Mark gets one of the jobs. None of the options are appealing. This is where the faith comes in.
If we move we will have to do a U-Haul move as we can't afford a mover. We used up all our savings fixing up the house. Traveling to and from interviews and house hunting is expensive. If we found a place then there are all the down payments and first and last months rent. I have been figuring out how to cash in our IRA and life insurance. I don't know where we will get the money to move otherwise. This is where the faith come in.
Mark has much experience at his job and in the past this has been a huge asset. Not any more. Experienced attorneys are first in line for all the jobs going. The weirdness at his current job seems to be resolving, but now the county is slashing the budget. His position may well go half time in June. If he doesn't find a job by then we will be in a world of hurt. This is where the faith come in.
I have been reading the want adds. I could apply to be a car hop, or work at Sub-way. Part time of course. I was gong to call about the car hop job and was told the summer fast food jobs are reserved for local teenagers and kids home from college for the summer. This is where the faith comes in.
I hate not being in control of my life. Scares the crap out of me. But there is not one darn thing I can do to change my circumstances. I can't fix the housing market. I can't fix the unpleasantness at Mark's job. I can't fix the county finances. I can't make someone hire Mark. I can't make someone hire me full time at more than minimum wage (which isn't enough to pay the bills). I can't get our savings back out of this house. I can't make it quit flipping snowing. I HAVE to rely on God.
So I am. Love Bea
Life goes along apace. One job interview down, a couple more to go.
If we have to move again it will really tell what I am made of faith wise. I demonstrated minimal faith during the last two moves. The move up here to our mountain paradise rental house happened so fast I didn't have time to panic and over control. Plus we sold our house at home and made money so I wasn't worried sick about finances. When we bought this house and moved I was exhausted and pissed off but not too fearful. This time will different.
Our house is worth $50,000 less than when we bought it three years ago. Fifty thousand dollars. I am having trouble even getting my mind around this fact. The market is flooded with for sale homes much nicer than ours. We have done a lot to this house but it is still ninety years old and small. I fear ain't no one out there a gonna want a vacation home with oodles of charm but no dishwasher. We are trying to figure out what to do about the house if Mark gets one of the jobs. None of the options are appealing. This is where the faith comes in.
If we move we will have to do a U-Haul move as we can't afford a mover. We used up all our savings fixing up the house. Traveling to and from interviews and house hunting is expensive. If we found a place then there are all the down payments and first and last months rent. I have been figuring out how to cash in our IRA and life insurance. I don't know where we will get the money to move otherwise. This is where the faith come in.
Mark has much experience at his job and in the past this has been a huge asset. Not any more. Experienced attorneys are first in line for all the jobs going. The weirdness at his current job seems to be resolving, but now the county is slashing the budget. His position may well go half time in June. If he doesn't find a job by then we will be in a world of hurt. This is where the faith come in.
I have been reading the want adds. I could apply to be a car hop, or work at Sub-way. Part time of course. I was gong to call about the car hop job and was told the summer fast food jobs are reserved for local teenagers and kids home from college for the summer. This is where the faith comes in.
I hate not being in control of my life. Scares the crap out of me. But there is not one darn thing I can do to change my circumstances. I can't fix the housing market. I can't fix the unpleasantness at Mark's job. I can't fix the county finances. I can't make someone hire Mark. I can't make someone hire me full time at more than minimum wage (which isn't enough to pay the bills). I can't get our savings back out of this house. I can't make it quit flipping snowing. I HAVE to rely on God.
So I am. Love Bea
Friday, April 2, 2010
Poleaxed
This post is of no great consequence but I just had to say something to somebody.
I have a friend who had gastric bypass surgery almost two years ago. I have talked to her off and on during that time. Of course I always ask how much weight she is losing. She will not tell me. Says it is none of my business. True enough. Well yesterday she told me.
She has lost 207 pounds. She weighs 122 pounds. She is 53 years old.
Just think about that for a minute. Two hundred and seven pounds. She has lost more than I weigh and I am fat. In less than two years she has done this. How is this possible? I was and still am stunned. How can you be 53 and weigh 122 pounds? She weighs less than her daughter.
I asked how she felt about losing all of that weight. "Fine" she said. I said she must feel like a new woman, and younger. "No" she said. What is it like to go through the world in such a radically smaller body I asked? "My knees don't hurt." Surely you must be having some sort of emotional reaction to it all I said. "Not really" she said. Well I ask you, is this possible?
Yes I am jealous. We might as well get that said right up front. I am also so happy for her I can hardly convey it. I love her and she was trapped by her weight and it was killing her. She has now been given and accepted a new lease on life. So why isn't she acting like a condemned woman who has been pardoned? I sure would be. I would be shaking my skinny booty all over town. I have some theories about this.
Remember Star Jones and how weird she acted after she lost all her weight? Like she was standing naked and vulnerable before the world and the only way she could protect herself was by downplaying the weight loss. Maybe this is what is happening to my friend. Maybe it is all still too new and she hasn't yet figured out how to be thin. Or maybe she is still the same person who has never dealt with her emotions. Or maybe (and this is painful to admit) she knows how jealous I am and fears I can't be supportive. What ever it is, it was like running into a brick wall, and it hurt.
I guess the post had more consequence that I first thought.
Happy Easter to all of you. Up from the grave He arose!
Love Bea
I have a friend who had gastric bypass surgery almost two years ago. I have talked to her off and on during that time. Of course I always ask how much weight she is losing. She will not tell me. Says it is none of my business. True enough. Well yesterday she told me.
She has lost 207 pounds. She weighs 122 pounds. She is 53 years old.
Just think about that for a minute. Two hundred and seven pounds. She has lost more than I weigh and I am fat. In less than two years she has done this. How is this possible? I was and still am stunned. How can you be 53 and weigh 122 pounds? She weighs less than her daughter.
I asked how she felt about losing all of that weight. "Fine" she said. I said she must feel like a new woman, and younger. "No" she said. What is it like to go through the world in such a radically smaller body I asked? "My knees don't hurt." Surely you must be having some sort of emotional reaction to it all I said. "Not really" she said. Well I ask you, is this possible?
Yes I am jealous. We might as well get that said right up front. I am also so happy for her I can hardly convey it. I love her and she was trapped by her weight and it was killing her. She has now been given and accepted a new lease on life. So why isn't she acting like a condemned woman who has been pardoned? I sure would be. I would be shaking my skinny booty all over town. I have some theories about this.
Remember Star Jones and how weird she acted after she lost all her weight? Like she was standing naked and vulnerable before the world and the only way she could protect herself was by downplaying the weight loss. Maybe this is what is happening to my friend. Maybe it is all still too new and she hasn't yet figured out how to be thin. Or maybe she is still the same person who has never dealt with her emotions. Or maybe (and this is painful to admit) she knows how jealous I am and fears I can't be supportive. What ever it is, it was like running into a brick wall, and it hurt.
I guess the post had more consequence that I first thought.
Happy Easter to all of you. Up from the grave He arose!
Love Bea
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Still Here
Thank you all for your posts. I didn't realize how much my inexpert handling of my crap resonated with people. Is a comfort to know my feet of clay extending clear up to my a** is helpful to someone.
Mark's job is on hold for two months. His position will be reevaluated again at that time. If all goes well we will stay here, if not we move.
I have learned much about politics in the past month. I am not a politician's wife. I am much too soft hearted. Criticism of Mark just about kills me. Especially when it is unjust. Insight: If you go around picking up your bosses crap...you end up with crap on your hands in spite of a sterling character. Insight: If your wife gets mad and makes a big scene at the Republican convention and comes close to knocking down a county official it does not help your public career. Even if a number of men come up to you afterward in private and tell you how lucky you are to have a wife that loves you that much. Go figure.
The spectre of job loss and a move shocked and galvanized me. I spend way to much money on stuff to alleviate loneliness and boredom. Food would be at the top of the list. Books would be second and movies/t.v. come in third. The prospect of possibly having no paycheck in two months has forced me to stop my self indulgent spending. And...we got wayyyyyyy to much stuff. I am going through our stuff with a stern eye. If I don't want to pay to have it moved, out it goes. This is as far as I have come, but we only found out the bad news about the job a week ago.
I have done more praying in the past three weeks than in the past three years. I am learning to put the future and the past in God's hands. I can only work with today. I have a couple of scripture verses I go around muttering all day. They help. Oh I had better confess I am still angry and bitter at specific people about the way Mark was treated. Mentor Mary says the best way to deal with your enemies is to pray for them. It is like "heaping coals of fire on their heads." I now remember these people in my prayers...oh, about a thousand times a day. I am sure this is not how she meant it.
I am fine. I can handle major crisis and pain. It is the day to day little stings that trip me up. Mollie is fine. We had a flat tire fixed the other day. People are always telling me how beautiful she is. The tire store was no exception. She was the belle of the ball. Not bad for a dog who spent the first year of her life chained to a tree eating her own poop. She is snoring at my feet.
I have a fine husband, a good dog, a character filled cat and a God who loves me. I am blessed.
AND I HAVE LOST SIX MORE DAMN POUNDS!!!!!!!!
Love Bea
Mark's job is on hold for two months. His position will be reevaluated again at that time. If all goes well we will stay here, if not we move.
I have learned much about politics in the past month. I am not a politician's wife. I am much too soft hearted. Criticism of Mark just about kills me. Especially when it is unjust. Insight: If you go around picking up your bosses crap...you end up with crap on your hands in spite of a sterling character. Insight: If your wife gets mad and makes a big scene at the Republican convention and comes close to knocking down a county official it does not help your public career. Even if a number of men come up to you afterward in private and tell you how lucky you are to have a wife that loves you that much. Go figure.
The spectre of job loss and a move shocked and galvanized me. I spend way to much money on stuff to alleviate loneliness and boredom. Food would be at the top of the list. Books would be second and movies/t.v. come in third. The prospect of possibly having no paycheck in two months has forced me to stop my self indulgent spending. And...we got wayyyyyyy to much stuff. I am going through our stuff with a stern eye. If I don't want to pay to have it moved, out it goes. This is as far as I have come, but we only found out the bad news about the job a week ago.
I have done more praying in the past three weeks than in the past three years. I am learning to put the future and the past in God's hands. I can only work with today. I have a couple of scripture verses I go around muttering all day. They help. Oh I had better confess I am still angry and bitter at specific people about the way Mark was treated. Mentor Mary says the best way to deal with your enemies is to pray for them. It is like "heaping coals of fire on their heads." I now remember these people in my prayers...oh, about a thousand times a day. I am sure this is not how she meant it.
I am fine. I can handle major crisis and pain. It is the day to day little stings that trip me up. Mollie is fine. We had a flat tire fixed the other day. People are always telling me how beautiful she is. The tire store was no exception. She was the belle of the ball. Not bad for a dog who spent the first year of her life chained to a tree eating her own poop. She is snoring at my feet.
I have a fine husband, a good dog, a character filled cat and a God who loves me. I am blessed.
AND I HAVE LOST SIX MORE DAMN POUNDS!!!!!!!!
Love Bea
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Long Time No Write
Almost a month has passed since my last post. Much has happened.
Mark's job is in jeopardy. This came as a bolt out of the blue. We will know by March 16 if we will be job hunting. If the job goes we will have to move. I have been reading a resume book and trying to piece together some kind of marketable skill. Turns out being a housewife for the past ten years was not a career boost. I am not hopeful about selling our house. Nothing is moving here house wise. Maybe we can rent it.
Our church seems to be imploding. This is not as much of a surprise as the job thing but it is just as painful.
On the fat front things are stable. I stopped attending the group. Turned out to be way too winter for a weekly eighty mile drive in the dark. I talked to the leader about the distance. She says there may be another group starting thirty miles closer to us in the near future. I have my fingers crossed. I have lost five pounds and my craving/bingeing is quiet at present. This is a blessing.
I think my life as a blogger is drawing to a close. I hate what I write on here. I started this blog with the hope of becoming a great writer. What I whinge on about now is not worth reading. I also started writing to chronicle my weight loss journey. Well...my journey has stopped and I have settled down on Fat Lane. I may well weigh 198 lbs until I die.
I had hoped to be a funny uplifting example of weight loss stick-to-it-iveness and Christian charity. Ha. I am fifty pounds lighter and I have (almost) quit swearing. Hardly Mother Theresa. I have gained twenty pounds back and this constant griping does not reflect Faith in God. Phooey. Reading my blog requires antidepressants. This is not what I want.
For the few of you still reading and commenting. Thank You. I will be posting until March 16th.
Love Bea
Mark's job is in jeopardy. This came as a bolt out of the blue. We will know by March 16 if we will be job hunting. If the job goes we will have to move. I have been reading a resume book and trying to piece together some kind of marketable skill. Turns out being a housewife for the past ten years was not a career boost. I am not hopeful about selling our house. Nothing is moving here house wise. Maybe we can rent it.
Our church seems to be imploding. This is not as much of a surprise as the job thing but it is just as painful.
On the fat front things are stable. I stopped attending the group. Turned out to be way too winter for a weekly eighty mile drive in the dark. I talked to the leader about the distance. She says there may be another group starting thirty miles closer to us in the near future. I have my fingers crossed. I have lost five pounds and my craving/bingeing is quiet at present. This is a blessing.
I think my life as a blogger is drawing to a close. I hate what I write on here. I started this blog with the hope of becoming a great writer. What I whinge on about now is not worth reading. I also started writing to chronicle my weight loss journey. Well...my journey has stopped and I have settled down on Fat Lane. I may well weigh 198 lbs until I die.
I had hoped to be a funny uplifting example of weight loss stick-to-it-iveness and Christian charity. Ha. I am fifty pounds lighter and I have (almost) quit swearing. Hardly Mother Theresa. I have gained twenty pounds back and this constant griping does not reflect Faith in God. Phooey. Reading my blog requires antidepressants. This is not what I want.
For the few of you still reading and commenting. Thank You. I will be posting until March 16th.
Love Bea
Friday, January 29, 2010
A Bright New Shiny Day
I went to my first Support group last eve. It is where I need to be. I am them and they are me. I am not alone.
This will be short as we are going traveling this weekend. I plan to turn 53 sitting in a hot springs stewing my aching bones. Back to the Group. Thanks be to God I was ready to handle all I learned there. If I had not had the revelation of being "right in Christ" I could not have stood it. "In Christ" I am becoming a new creation and old things are passing away. But, I have hit and drug bottom several times during my life. I have been ashamed of my willingness to drop down into the mire, and then my seeming inability to lift myself out of said muck. I have felt contaminated at my core. "In Christ" I no longer feel contaminated, but, last night I found out I am set apart because of my familiarity with degradation and despair. I need the company and support of other people who have come to the end of themselves and found God to be their only strength. I have been toting a burden I didn't even know I was carrying for a long, long time. With God's help and the care of others' I see a way clear to putting it down.
Amen Love Bea
This will be short as we are going traveling this weekend. I plan to turn 53 sitting in a hot springs stewing my aching bones. Back to the Group. Thanks be to God I was ready to handle all I learned there. If I had not had the revelation of being "right in Christ" I could not have stood it. "In Christ" I am becoming a new creation and old things are passing away. But, I have hit and drug bottom several times during my life. I have been ashamed of my willingness to drop down into the mire, and then my seeming inability to lift myself out of said muck. I have felt contaminated at my core. "In Christ" I no longer feel contaminated, but, last night I found out I am set apart because of my familiarity with degradation and despair. I need the company and support of other people who have come to the end of themselves and found God to be their only strength. I have been toting a burden I didn't even know I was carrying for a long, long time. With God's help and the care of others' I see a way clear to putting it down.
Amen Love Bea
Thursday, January 21, 2010
More New Directions
Why does the cat throw up every time I start to do yoga? I am listening to the music and breathing and breathing and getting calm and, blammo... yowling, retching and whoops-daisy-up comes breakfast. Then I have to stop, go and get the carpet cleaner, and the paper towels, and spend ten minutes cleaning up everything. Ruins the moment. Oh, and when I am doing the camel thing the dog gets underneath me and licks my face. Makes me almost want to take up jogging.
A rough bunch of days since my last post. Bad dreams, lethargy, food cravings from hell, self pity and massive amounts of anger. I have been in a bad way.
But something happened to me this morning. I will attempt to explain but may not succeed. My spiritual vocabulary is not large. When I awaken in the mornings I feel fine for about two seconds. Then the assault starts. Every fault I possess and their consequences cycle through my mind. At the top of the list is the fat thing. I feel like a thousand pound weight (no pun) has been dropped on me and I think "what is the use of fighting." But fight I do. I say "This is the day the Lord hath made I will rejoice and be glad in it" and I launch myself into my day. If not with gladness, then at least with massive movement. Since owning my sugar addiction the assault has been multiplied ten fold and I have been unable to launch myself into anything. I have grudgingly drug myself from spot to spot. My desire has been to fade into weary nothingness. Last week I earnestly sought help, received it and then did not have enough oomph to avail myself of it. But...The Help came and found me.
I decided last week to walk on the treadmill every morning. Of course I did not get it done every morning so I gave up. Only this morning I didn't. I got up and got on the darn thing. It was so boring I went and got my CD player and headphones. I didn't want to take the time to find new music so I decided to listen to what was in there. Of course it was Joyce Meyer. I was disgusted. I did not feel like listening to her preach at me and make me feel guilty. But I was too lazy to change the CD so I listened. She was preaching about being "the righteousness of God in Christ." I have heard this sermon theme enough times to quote it chapter and verse. I never understood what she or the Bible meant. This morning I finally got it.
Some of the folks in my childhood taught me I was a befouled being who would cause a lot less bother if she were just dead. Then the church got a'holt of me and told me I was a worthless sinner who deserved hell. I imprinted the idea I was a befouled sinner who should keep out of every one's way until she most likely went to hell. OK so now I buy a book that offers me the joyous opportunity to re-acknowledge "I am a sugar addict and my life spirals out of control because of it." Right. I am a befouled sinner who needs to stop bothering people to get her needs met, prepare for hell and accept the fact that she is an incurable addict to top it off. Gad, who wouldn't feel a tad down at the mouth in the mornings?
My intellect did/does not think I am contaminated or going to hell. It was my soul that believed the lie. Until this morning. Grace allowed me to see my true condition. In Christ I have been made "right." Fixed, cured, cleaned. The I of me is fresh as the morning. I am truly becoming a new creature. This revelation makes all the difference. I am right. I have an addiction. I am not my sins or my faults or my addictions. I, I, I, am right.
How will all of this play out? Beats me. I am way less freaked out and downtrodden about it all. I will ask the God of my understanding to "please help me to do your will" and then do the best I can to listen carefully. I have an addiction to sugar. I will need always to be abstinent. I need the support of others like me. I still need to finish withdrawal and get abstinent. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention withdrawal? Seems I keep forgetting about it entirely. Surprise, surprise. Most of the awful stuff I have gone through this past week could be attributed to what??? Withdrawal. I think I will ask the God of my new understanding for some help with that.
Take care. Love, love, love Bea
A rough bunch of days since my last post. Bad dreams, lethargy, food cravings from hell, self pity and massive amounts of anger. I have been in a bad way.
But something happened to me this morning. I will attempt to explain but may not succeed. My spiritual vocabulary is not large. When I awaken in the mornings I feel fine for about two seconds. Then the assault starts. Every fault I possess and their consequences cycle through my mind. At the top of the list is the fat thing. I feel like a thousand pound weight (no pun) has been dropped on me and I think "what is the use of fighting." But fight I do. I say "This is the day the Lord hath made I will rejoice and be glad in it" and I launch myself into my day. If not with gladness, then at least with massive movement. Since owning my sugar addiction the assault has been multiplied ten fold and I have been unable to launch myself into anything. I have grudgingly drug myself from spot to spot. My desire has been to fade into weary nothingness. Last week I earnestly sought help, received it and then did not have enough oomph to avail myself of it. But...The Help came and found me.
I decided last week to walk on the treadmill every morning. Of course I did not get it done every morning so I gave up. Only this morning I didn't. I got up and got on the darn thing. It was so boring I went and got my CD player and headphones. I didn't want to take the time to find new music so I decided to listen to what was in there. Of course it was Joyce Meyer. I was disgusted. I did not feel like listening to her preach at me and make me feel guilty. But I was too lazy to change the CD so I listened. She was preaching about being "the righteousness of God in Christ." I have heard this sermon theme enough times to quote it chapter and verse. I never understood what she or the Bible meant. This morning I finally got it.
Some of the folks in my childhood taught me I was a befouled being who would cause a lot less bother if she were just dead. Then the church got a'holt of me and told me I was a worthless sinner who deserved hell. I imprinted the idea I was a befouled sinner who should keep out of every one's way until she most likely went to hell. OK so now I buy a book that offers me the joyous opportunity to re-acknowledge "I am a sugar addict and my life spirals out of control because of it." Right. I am a befouled sinner who needs to stop bothering people to get her needs met, prepare for hell and accept the fact that she is an incurable addict to top it off. Gad, who wouldn't feel a tad down at the mouth in the mornings?
My intellect did/does not think I am contaminated or going to hell. It was my soul that believed the lie. Until this morning. Grace allowed me to see my true condition. In Christ I have been made "right." Fixed, cured, cleaned. The I of me is fresh as the morning. I am truly becoming a new creature. This revelation makes all the difference. I am right. I have an addiction. I am not my sins or my faults or my addictions. I, I, I, am right.
How will all of this play out? Beats me. I am way less freaked out and downtrodden about it all. I will ask the God of my understanding to "please help me to do your will" and then do the best I can to listen carefully. I have an addiction to sugar. I will need always to be abstinent. I need the support of others like me. I still need to finish withdrawal and get abstinent. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention withdrawal? Seems I keep forgetting about it entirely. Surprise, surprise. Most of the awful stuff I have gone through this past week could be attributed to what??? Withdrawal. I think I will ask the God of my new understanding for some help with that.
Take care. Love, love, love Bea
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Addiction, My Shield and Buckler
I don't usually post two days in a row but I learned something yesterday and I want to make sure I understand it and don't forget it.
See yesterday's blog as to the efforts I am making toward recovery. One of the efforts was to go and get my darn hair cut and colored. This I did. My beautician is also my massage therapist. She is multifaceted. As we were sitting and visiting while my hair processed we talked about living life. Sheri does a lot of stuff. She is way involved with her family, her spiritual journey, and physical journeys. She is a great traveler and has been all over the world. Our conversation wandered far and wide as usual because I am intensely interested in her experiences in foreign climes, both physical and spiritual. I told her how brave I thought she was. This label seemed to stump her. "Brave? What does being brave have to do with it?" Now I was stumped. "Well, being willing to take all the risks involved with doing something totally new."
"What risk" she said "I want to live my life to the full. It is a God given privilege to be able to savor all the different experiences it can offer. I am motivated by the opportunity to feel and learn. Why else are we here?" Why indeed.
I most emphatically am not motivated by first hand opportunities to feel and learn. In fact I want to be shielded from opportunities to feel/learn. And this is addiction in a nutshell. The addict wants to be once removed from life. We do not want to experience it raw. We want to know it from behind a buffer. For us each new day only offers new opportunities to be hurt. We strive for the muffled life. My muffler happens to come with powdered sugar. Yours might come with olives or needles or a charge card.
Her response continued. "Do you really want a colorless life with nothing new happening.?"
"You betcha. I want a life I can control." By now she was up and taking the papers off my head. She stopped in her tracks and looked me full in the face.
"Do you really think you can control anything that happens to you?" She was incredulous. "We control very little of what happens to us. All we can control is our response to it."
The synapses in my brain shorted out and I just sat there. What did she mean I couldn't control what happened to me? I am my own worst enemy. Of course I control what happens to me. I have made my life shit. If I had made and did make better choices my life would better. I am completely responsible for everything that has gone wrong in my life.
She patted my hand, "You sound like my teenagers" she said.
What the hell??????
I was and am lost. I have been thinking about all she said since she said it. I don't understand what she meant. And that is addiction. The inability to comprehend/accept the difference between a self controlled life and a God controlled life.
Is this surrender? Response-able only? Is it really that simple? I give up my belief I can control anything?
If I can't control anything is the muffler pointless?
Please God help me to grasp and apply what I heard. Amen
Love Bea
See yesterday's blog as to the efforts I am making toward recovery. One of the efforts was to go and get my darn hair cut and colored. This I did. My beautician is also my massage therapist. She is multifaceted. As we were sitting and visiting while my hair processed we talked about living life. Sheri does a lot of stuff. She is way involved with her family, her spiritual journey, and physical journeys. She is a great traveler and has been all over the world. Our conversation wandered far and wide as usual because I am intensely interested in her experiences in foreign climes, both physical and spiritual. I told her how brave I thought she was. This label seemed to stump her. "Brave? What does being brave have to do with it?" Now I was stumped. "Well, being willing to take all the risks involved with doing something totally new."
"What risk" she said "I want to live my life to the full. It is a God given privilege to be able to savor all the different experiences it can offer. I am motivated by the opportunity to feel and learn. Why else are we here?" Why indeed.
I most emphatically am not motivated by first hand opportunities to feel and learn. In fact I want to be shielded from opportunities to feel/learn. And this is addiction in a nutshell. The addict wants to be once removed from life. We do not want to experience it raw. We want to know it from behind a buffer. For us each new day only offers new opportunities to be hurt. We strive for the muffled life. My muffler happens to come with powdered sugar. Yours might come with olives or needles or a charge card.
Her response continued. "Do you really want a colorless life with nothing new happening.?"
"You betcha. I want a life I can control." By now she was up and taking the papers off my head. She stopped in her tracks and looked me full in the face.
"Do you really think you can control anything that happens to you?" She was incredulous. "We control very little of what happens to us. All we can control is our response to it."
The synapses in my brain shorted out and I just sat there. What did she mean I couldn't control what happened to me? I am my own worst enemy. Of course I control what happens to me. I have made my life shit. If I had made and did make better choices my life would better. I am completely responsible for everything that has gone wrong in my life.
She patted my hand, "You sound like my teenagers" she said.
What the hell??????
I was and am lost. I have been thinking about all she said since she said it. I don't understand what she meant. And that is addiction. The inability to comprehend/accept the difference between a self controlled life and a God controlled life.
Is this surrender? Response-able only? Is it really that simple? I give up my belief I can control anything?
If I can't control anything is the muffler pointless?
Please God help me to grasp and apply what I heard. Amen
Love Bea
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
New Directions
I got up and walked on the treadmill this morning. First time in a long time I have walked other than from fridge to sofa. We were trying to walk outside but at -36 degrees it was just too cold.
I have been for a massage and received much help. Thank-God for Sheri. Without her I'd have been eating the carpet by now. I have also been to see the Chiropractor. Turns out my back trouble is more than just too much snow shoveling. My right hip is out of whack due to tight hamstrings. I was adjusted and given some yoga like exercises to do. (Boy do I miss Yoga Jan.) I am sore this morning but hope to be feeling better soon. I have an appointment to talk to the Pilate's lady to see if I can do the exercises and not go broke doing it. Keep your fingers crossed as I would really like to learn these exercises. I have an appointment in half an hour to get my hair cut and colored. Things are looking up.
I chickened out of going to see the therapist. I am not ready to accept a psychological diagnosis of some sort and become part of the case load at our small counseling center. They do not treat or counsel about eating disorders here. I would have to go to Jackson for that help. May be just my pride stopping me. If so I will get over it and make an appointment. I will get to see my proposed therapist in action at a lecture she is giving on the 23rd. I probably won't do anything until after that.
I am not ready to start an overeating support group. I NEED support right now. I do not want to expend my meagre energies setting up anything. I did put a bug in the ear of the counseling center. I also fired up our pastor about the need for this kind of group. Maybe when I get abstinent I will be willing to put more effort into initiating the thing.
And about that abstinence. I know how I want to go about it this time. I am putting a support system in place for my food and emotional/spiritual help. I am not going to try to go it alone this time. I am optimistic about the outcome. I will let you know when all is ready to go. OK, now off to get rid of this brownish hair.
Take care. Love Bea
I have been for a massage and received much help. Thank-God for Sheri. Without her I'd have been eating the carpet by now. I have also been to see the Chiropractor. Turns out my back trouble is more than just too much snow shoveling. My right hip is out of whack due to tight hamstrings. I was adjusted and given some yoga like exercises to do. (Boy do I miss Yoga Jan.) I am sore this morning but hope to be feeling better soon. I have an appointment to talk to the Pilate's lady to see if I can do the exercises and not go broke doing it. Keep your fingers crossed as I would really like to learn these exercises. I have an appointment in half an hour to get my hair cut and colored. Things are looking up.
I chickened out of going to see the therapist. I am not ready to accept a psychological diagnosis of some sort and become part of the case load at our small counseling center. They do not treat or counsel about eating disorders here. I would have to go to Jackson for that help. May be just my pride stopping me. If so I will get over it and make an appointment. I will get to see my proposed therapist in action at a lecture she is giving on the 23rd. I probably won't do anything until after that.
I am not ready to start an overeating support group. I NEED support right now. I do not want to expend my meagre energies setting up anything. I did put a bug in the ear of the counseling center. I also fired up our pastor about the need for this kind of group. Maybe when I get abstinent I will be willing to put more effort into initiating the thing.
And about that abstinence. I know how I want to go about it this time. I am putting a support system in place for my food and emotional/spiritual help. I am not going to try to go it alone this time. I am optimistic about the outcome. I will let you know when all is ready to go. OK, now off to get rid of this brownish hair.
Take care. Love Bea
Thursday, January 7, 2010
It is the Chicken
Boy I don't even know where to start. At the beginning is always best.
"Am I depressed because I am fat, or fat because I am depressed?" I am depressed because I am addicted to food.
Through another of those oddball coincidences (I call them grace) I came into the possession of a book called "Addiction and Grace" by Gerald May. The book forced me to look my addiction in the face. Why do I keep forgetting I am addicted to food? Part of the addiction process he says. Why do I keep thinking I can handle this on my own? Part of the addiction process he says. I am back to square one with my attachment to finding fullness. First part of square one is finding some help. I truly can't help myself with this problem. (Yes I could adopt another food plan but it is destined to fail. He calls this "attempting to reform your addiction" as opposed to being willing to seek a "transformed life.") I called the counseling center and have an appointment to talk to someone about compulsive eating on Tuesday at 9am. I also called our pastor.
My food addiction is more than a just psychological/physical problem. In the main it is a spiritual problem. I need some spiritual support. And not just me and God. I don't hear Him well enough to to be able to avail myself of the help he is always singing to me. I told the pastor I wanted to start an Overeaters Anonymous group at our church. I told him of my addiction and lack of support. He commissioned me to figure out how to start a group. Said he was all for it and would put it in the budget. Asked me if I thought we could get it up and running by February! Gad. Or should I say, God.
I searched online for OA and Food Addicts info. There is so much it will take me a while to sort through it all. Why have I tried to go it alone for so long? Is a mystery.
I am not depressed any more. I am scared spitless. I feel secure in the confines of my addiction. Letting go of my attachment to food is risky as death for me. Here is where the Grace comes in. God give me the courage and strength to take the risks to step into a "transformed" life. Amen
Take care. Love Bea
"Am I depressed because I am fat, or fat because I am depressed?" I am depressed because I am addicted to food.
Through another of those oddball coincidences (I call them grace) I came into the possession of a book called "Addiction and Grace" by Gerald May. The book forced me to look my addiction in the face. Why do I keep forgetting I am addicted to food? Part of the addiction process he says. Why do I keep thinking I can handle this on my own? Part of the addiction process he says. I am back to square one with my attachment to finding fullness. First part of square one is finding some help. I truly can't help myself with this problem. (Yes I could adopt another food plan but it is destined to fail. He calls this "attempting to reform your addiction" as opposed to being willing to seek a "transformed life.") I called the counseling center and have an appointment to talk to someone about compulsive eating on Tuesday at 9am. I also called our pastor.
My food addiction is more than a just psychological/physical problem. In the main it is a spiritual problem. I need some spiritual support. And not just me and God. I don't hear Him well enough to to be able to avail myself of the help he is always singing to me. I told the pastor I wanted to start an Overeaters Anonymous group at our church. I told him of my addiction and lack of support. He commissioned me to figure out how to start a group. Said he was all for it and would put it in the budget. Asked me if I thought we could get it up and running by February! Gad. Or should I say, God.
I searched online for OA and Food Addicts info. There is so much it will take me a while to sort through it all. Why have I tried to go it alone for so long? Is a mystery.
I am not depressed any more. I am scared spitless. I feel secure in the confines of my addiction. Letting go of my attachment to food is risky as death for me. Here is where the Grace comes in. God give me the courage and strength to take the risks to step into a "transformed" life. Amen
Take care. Love Bea
Saturday, January 2, 2010
The Chicken or the Egg
Consider the chocolate covered peanut. Brittle outer candy coated shell, soft inner rich sumptuous layer and finally the firm center core. As God is my witness I am that nut.
Told dear sister-in-law yesterday that I am depressed because I am fat. She countered very firmly, "No you are fat because you are depressed." Great, one more thing to think about.
Hope you all had a nice Christmas. I did. Can you believe it? Christmas morning I got out of bed and the depression fell off of me onto the floor. I stepped smartly over it and went to open my presents. I felt great all day and have felt fineish for the past few days. I even rearranged the living room.
What the heck is happening to me? I am worn out from emoting. I am also worn out with the food battle. Those of us with a food problem should be able to go into hibernation for the months of November and December. Maybe I am just exhausted and depressed from the exertion of fighting off fudge. Hey I made a joke. Progress.
But seriously, am I hopeless because I am fat or fat because I am hopeless? I have always assumed the former. I think I have a food problem by which I feel helplessly engulfed, and that depresses me. Any thoughts?
Take care and thanks. Just thanks. Love Bea
Told dear sister-in-law yesterday that I am depressed because I am fat. She countered very firmly, "No you are fat because you are depressed." Great, one more thing to think about.
Hope you all had a nice Christmas. I did. Can you believe it? Christmas morning I got out of bed and the depression fell off of me onto the floor. I stepped smartly over it and went to open my presents. I felt great all day and have felt fineish for the past few days. I even rearranged the living room.
What the heck is happening to me? I am worn out from emoting. I am also worn out with the food battle. Those of us with a food problem should be able to go into hibernation for the months of November and December. Maybe I am just exhausted and depressed from the exertion of fighting off fudge. Hey I made a joke. Progress.
But seriously, am I hopeless because I am fat or fat because I am hopeless? I have always assumed the former. I think I have a food problem by which I feel helplessly engulfed, and that depresses me. Any thoughts?
Take care and thanks. Just thanks. Love Bea
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