It's a Wonderful Life?

Ok, I just had a God moment I think. I’ve been mulling things over since my last post. If you read my blog with any regularity, you have probably noticed a few patterns. First, I’ve had some crappy things happen to me. Second, I’m sometimes willing to take an honest look at myself and how I’ve managed to get to where I am today. Third, I just LOVE to pull out the violin every couple of posts and whine and complain and throw a grand ol’ pity party for myself. It is kind of a warped little dance I’ve been doing all year. I think the great thing about my blogging is that there is PROOF out there now; proof that I can’t ignore when it’s convenient. Proof that shows me that yes, while I have made some progress in some areas over the last decade or two…I still have a lot to learn. There is still a LOT of room for growth…and I’m not just talking about my weight. We all know that my weight is a symptom of much BIGGER struggle I have going on in my head.

The other day, I read a friend’s blog. She never fails to put a smile on my face, whether I’m reading her blog or chatting with her via msn. It is kind of ironic honestly, because as funny as she is…there have been many times in the time I’ve known her that she hasn’t always told me what I wanted to hear. We work together and when things between Erik and I started to go south, she was the one that really helped strip my blinders off. She helped me see all the excuses I was making for him and for myself and was relentless in forcing me to see things as they really WERE and not the way I was trying to imagine them to be. Until recently (when I gave her a link to my blog) I don’t think she had ANY idea about the extent of my weight problem and I was really ashamed to share the link with her. I even asked her not to read it until I was ready and as far as I know, she honored that request (I gave her the ok a few months ago). She hasn’t really said anything about the blog or about the realization that I am a ginormous fatty(we don’t work together as often as we used to so maybe it’s because of that…I find it hard to believe she would hold back if she truly had something to say ;) . To be honest, I wasn’t so embarrassed about her learning how much I weighed, seeing actual pictures, or reviewing my gargantuan measurements. I was ashamed because she was going to see my overwhelming and pathetic penchant for wallowing in my problems. Now I say she hasn’t really said anything about my blog, but today I think she told me just what I needed to hear…more on this later.

As ashamed as I am about my weight, I am truly probably more ashamed that I will turn 40 next year and while I may have moments where I can recognize my own part or responsibility in where I am at today, I haven’t quite figured out how to USE these realizations to move me PAST my problems; which brings me to this recent post of hers. I would encourage you to go read it for yourself, but here’s a little synopsis: Basically, she wrote about “It’s a Wonderful Life” and how she’s always had a problem watching it; not because it was sappy and at times saccharine, but mainly because, in typical Tammy fashion, she saw things in it that many other people missed: the fact that George had an awful lot to do with his current situation. George made decisions and choices throughout his life and those choices set him, as much as any circumstances outside of his control, on the path that led him to where we see him at the beginning of the movie. I read that and immediately felt the bright glaring spotlight of shame focused on my own glaring culpability in my current situation.

The weight is easy. I’m fat because ultimately, I make choices about what I’m going to or not going to put in my mouth and most of the time, I choose poorly. I also choose to not go to the gym or even do little things around the house that might slowly begin to build my strength up. Granted, I have a lot of crap in my head that often defeats me, but ultimately…the responsibility is on me. I choose to give into it all. I allow it to overwhelm me and defeat me. Even that is a decision I make.

Let’s talk about some other decisions I’ve made that have gotten me to where I am. First, I fell in love with Erik. I knew from the beginning that something wasn’t quite right. It took us two years (as good friends) with subtle and most times not so subtle chasing on my part to land him. That probably should have been my first clue. Once we were together, there were plenty of other signs that I chose to ignore. Regardless of anything Erik did in this situation, I made many decisions and really almost “forced” our relationship in a direction it wasn’t going in naturally. I didn’t get pregnant on purpose, but since we all know Tanner wasn’t immaculately conceived, I think we can agree that I should accept my part in creating him.

The financial problems we have encountered have also largely been due to our own choices. Yes, we have had oodles and oodles of medical bills and other unexpected things come up, I’m fairly certain that if we hadn’t been living way beyond our means for quite some time, things wouldn’t be quite as desperate as they are now. We would have been in trouble, but I think we could have dug our way out by now.

So yes, in many ways, my life sucks, but ultimately I think the thing that sucks the most is that I have to cope with the fact that I am the biggest reason it sucks; not erik, or Tanner, or my mom dying or whatever else I latch on to periodically to distract myself from the reality of my situation.

So these are things I’ve been mulling over since reading Tammy’s post. Flash forward to today…I get a call from my grandfather (hi papa :). He called to tell me he was sending money for Tanner’s Christmas, we talked about his upcoming wedding next March and how I was going to try to get Tanner and I up there around that time and somehow we ended up talking about my blog. Basically, he mentioned that he had read my last pity party (my words, not his) and felt like he needed to remark on some common threads or patterns he’s seen in the weave of my blog over the last year. I’m sure you can guess what they were. He acknowledged that while I can at times have moments of crystal clear self realization where I am open to accepting my part in the way my life has turned out…I also have many moments where I slip back into these periods of stagnation which keeps me stuck in this warped little static cha-cha you’ve watched me do all year. There can’t be any real growth because every time I take one step forward, I lose ground again. I set goals and then almost immediately lose sight of them and fall back into old patterns…the same old patterns that got me right to where I am today. Here is where I could come up with a bunch of excuses WHY I lose ground, but come on…you’ve heard them all before and in the end, you and I both know they are irrelevant. If I want to change my circumstances, I am the only one with the power to do that.

In the end, I thanked my grandfather for his advice, we said our goodbyes and, pondering the last bit of our conversation, went to check my email and there…like a period at the end of that conversation with my grandfather was Tammy’s comment on my last blog. You can go read it for yourself, but once again…I had to smile. I don’t know if it is God or fate or what, but someone or something is definitely trying to slap me upside the head this morning. Thanks Papa and Tammy for giving me the swift kick I needed. Here’s hoping I can keep my eye on the prize this next year and actually make some progress towards my goals.

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Papa, this one is for you!

NOTE: ugggh, I've hung on to this stupid post for days meaning to bring my scrapbook up and scan a pic of my grandfather, but you can see where that has gotten me. Now my update needs an update. I figured I'd post this and try to get a picture for it later

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I spoke with my grandfather over the weekend and he kind of chewed my rear end about not posting much lately. Believe me, you don't want him annoyed with ya, so I figured I better post something pronto ;) That is him in the picture btw. He was a cutie wasn't he? Consider him your eye candy for today ;)

As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been busy with work. I work my fulltime job, a part time job and in whatever other time I have, I’ve been trying to get ready for a small craft fair this December as well as trying to get my website up and running. Honestly, I’m finding that it is difficult to really carve out enough time to get much done, but I’ve discovered that I can actually do my second job from my scrapdesk (when it isn’t too busy) and work on stuff in between “service requests” with my part time job. I still can’t quite manage to get as much done as I would like though.

I also haven’t posted as much because in addition to being fairly busy with work, I have had some health issues (what’s new there?) that have had me to and from the doctor 3-4 times in the last two weeks. For once, I won’t disgust you with all the gory details, but I have a wound that is taking it’s sweet time to heal. I initially tried using Neosporin on it and based on what my doctor said….Neosporin is worthless and unless you own stock in the company, should never be used. The wound was not in good shape to begin with and about two days into caring for it, I decided that maybe I should use Neosporin to speed the healing. Two days later, this wound was MUCH worse than it had been originally so I went to the doctor at GREAT urging from Erik. They had to actually had to do a minor little surgical procedure while I was there because they were concerned I had a pocket of infection below the actual wound so I’ve been going back every couple of days to have them look at it, been on anti-biotics, etc. It’s been fun, let me tell ya!

I also have an allergy to the adhesive used in medical tape or bandages so I started developing secondary “burns” in the area around the actual wound itself. At times, I felt like those hurt worse than the wound we were trying to treat. They honestly do feel like a burn. The good news is that the wound seems to finally be on the mend, but I can’t believe it is taking so long to get better.

Of course, a bit part of the reason it is taking so long is my weight. It is on the underside of my stomach and was most likely caused by a brief effort to get back on my treadmill. I hadn’t mentioned it on the blog or even to erik because I feel like I’ve said I was going to get going with it how many times over the past several months and nothing has happened. I figured if I actually had something to report, I’d let you know then! I only managed a few days and then developed this cyst. They are hereditary (people in my family get them whether they are skinny or fat) but they can be brought on by friction, etc. So, apparently the friction of my lovely stomach rubbing against my clothes caused the mother of all cysts. Luckily I don’t get them as often as my mom used to, but when I do they are awful. This one was particularly bad; probably one of the worst I’ve ever had. The doctor said that the location may get hypoxic too because it is on a part of my stomach that probably doesn’t get oxygenated due to my weight.

Anyway, it looks like its on the mend, but I have to wait until it is completely healed before I can try walking again. Until then, I’ve been doing periodic squats and just getting more overall daily activity just going to the doctor’s appointments, going to shop a bit at the scrap store, etc. I know its sad that I count stuff like that as an increase in activity, but it really is. I went to the scrap store a week ago and spent about 10-15 minutes on my feet before I had to sit down. Really, I needed to sit down within about 5 minutes, but I was too ashamed to walk back to the crop room that soon so I forced myself to walk a few aisles and then went and rested. Later that night I could feel it in my legs, etc. It felt like I’d actually gone and done a workout, but I suppose I’m in such poor shape that it probably was a workout for my poor body.

I don’t know where my rock bottom is, but I have a feeling I’m getting close. Last year about this time I was having a problem with my knee and this issue with this cyst/wound has kind of made me feel the same way. By rock bottom, I don’t mean depression really. I’ve actually been in rather good spirits despite the health issues, but when something like this happens, I see how little it takes to knock me right on my ass again. When I was having issues with my knee, I realized how easily it would be for me to wind up bedridden. With this cyst, I’m realizing how difficult it can be to turn things around…to get walking and start moving this snowball in the other freaking direction. It is a scary place to be, but let’s face it…I probably need the crap scared out of me more often. It might keep me motivated.

I’ve had oodles of stress at work that I will probably go into in another blog so while I’m not going insane with the eating, the last few days especially have found me finding some comfort in food. Luckily they aren’t binges, it is just a cookie here and there mostly…walmart has these cookies in their bakery that I think are infused with crack because as soon as I start to get overwhelmed with stress I get the urge for a fix lol. Sometimes I’m able to satisfy the urge with a healthier choice, but yesterday was a banner day stress wise so I asked erik (he’d probably say it was more like begging) to go get a few when he went for some other items we needed. I had tried everything else to to take the edge off …a 55 calorie beer, a small mini Hershey bar from Tanner’s Halloween stash, but my body was craving those darn cookies…what is up with that? How do you guys handle cravings like that when you are stressed to the gills? When you can’t really take a walk or whatever to help cope with the stress? I even tried deep breathing, etc. Anyway, have to get back to work (actually took me two days to write this entry because it’s been a madhouse at work).

There you go Papa! This entry should keep you busy for a while. BTW, I want you to start your own blog! I think I’m just going to ride your butt until you get one going ;) I want to hear more stories like the one you shared with me over the phone the other day. For my readers….my grandfather was a mohawk sportin’ hellion in his younger years. I’m almost afraid to hear what other stories he has rattling around in his closet lol.