Sunday, July 30, 2006

My mother is dying. She had a stroke on Friday and is lying in a hospital bed in Boise in a coma and she is, for all intents and purposes, gone. We're just waiting for her body to catch on to the reality.
I'm numb. I sit here and look at all the chores that need done, but can't seem to focus on anything for too long. I want held, but that's not an option for me. I sometimes feel pretty productive, but then want to curl up into the fetal position and rock back and forth. Everyone tells me that's normal.
Great. For the first time in my life, I'm normal.
I'm fortunate in that I have made peace with my mom -- for the most part any way. She is (was) who she is. I understand her more now that I ever did before.
I'm tired, but can't or don't want to sleep.
I don't know what to do. Nothing feels right -- I was in the garden earlier. My brother was helping me get caught up on two months worth of weeding. The funny thing is, I came across a small herb patch I had given up on and not marked. I had assumed the seeds never grew.
But I was busily pulling weeds when I realized there was something more than that godforsaken wild geranium -- cilantro. A few minutes later, I found sage.
I guess that's what life is like though. Buried under all the weeds is sweetness -- something savory and exciting -- the little things you don't notice when you're so busy -- but you have to pull the weeds -- get rid of the crap first.
I guess its a good metaphor for my life right now -- must get rid of the crap.
Maybe I'll try to sleep --

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

not again, not again, not again.

Well crap, shit, fuck, damn and everything.
I just binged -- ahhhh damn, damn, damn
I'm feeling tired and sorry for myself and I stuffed myself silly -- Gawd I wish I could think of a better way to cope with crap -- what do other people do? -- everything I can think of just feels destructive.
This sucks so very much.
What I do know is that I want to be held. Held by a big strong man who will just hold me without groping me. He will hold me and tell me I'm beautiful and that everything's going to be ok. He'll adore me and enjoy spending time with me. I'll be his best friend and he'll be mine.
Instead, I have my husband who will attempt to hold me, but will eventually grope me and then it becomes something sexual instead of something nuturing, kind.
I realize what you're thinking -- it's that psycho babble mumbo jumble -- "but Karma you have to love yourself first -- you have to be willing to hold yourself -- comfort yourself -- God can fill the void."
You know, I do realize, of course, I'm fabulous -- but you know a girl's got needs --- and I've had it waiting around for God or anybody else to take care of me because it's not gotten me very fucking far now has it?
Taking care of myself is a lonely and frustrating option -- it might work if I had a single solitary coping skill but I don't and I simply have no idea what to do when I feel like crap.
If I sleep, I feel like I'm lazy
If I read, I feel like I should be working
If I work outside, I feel like I should be inside and vice versa.
If I eat, well you have to eat to live so that's productive right.
Well not if you stuff yourself.
Holy crap -- why does that make sense to me when I'm in the middle of it and then I feel so crappy immediately after?
I would simply LOVE to go a day and not obsess about food.
Not have to worry if it were good or bad -- how many fat calories it contained if I am eating at the right time of day.
How would it be to just eat cause I'm hungry and stop when I'm full.
Simple and completely impossible at the same time.
There has got to be a better way to deal with reality.
If I write, I suppose that's good. But I'm sitting here thinking about how tired I am -- how stuffed I am and how much work needs to be done around the house and yard and how much I just want to curl up in bed.
Perhaps I should take some sort of medication.
Is that a cop out?

Monday, July 24, 2006

Quantum physics

So if all time is happening -- can you influence your future? If you visualize your future in a certain way, can you make it happen?
It's all about choices right?
I visualize a future in which I don't obsess about every morsel I put in my mouth. I see a place where the men in my life stand up for what's right. Where I can have conversations with people that go beyond the surface -- that feed my intellect.
I visualize a space in which I have unconditional love -- from one man in my life other than my son -- I visualize a place where I would be willing to accept it.
My gawd do I send out signals to men that say," Let's just stay on the surface -- forget about a deep and spiritual connection -- where you can say what you think with out it being a threat -- where intimacy is not about sex, but about an unspoken connection.
Where the people that are supposed to be adults are adults -- where I am not responsible for taking care of everyone and the dog.
Where I fit in -- and not intimidate the hell out of everyone -- where I'm understood.

Friday, July 21, 2006

If not then, maybe now

When I started this over a year ago -- I truly thought I'd have reached my weight loss goal by now --
If anything, I've lost ground rather than made progess -- at least if I pay attention to what the scale says.
I gave up the scale for Lent -- and only during my weak moments get back on -- they end being mere moments, but they take weeks to get over.
Why is it that women in our society are taught to judge themselves by numbers -- the 3 numbers on a scale or the size of a pair of pants? We are all so much more -- well most of us --
the women that really are only what the numbers are worth have depleated themselves into being nothing but digits really.
Feeling pain, rather than numbing it with food is rather overwhelming -- I've spent so many years of my life just trying to survive and now, when faced with the task of actually living instead of merely surviving -- well, wow -- it's so very hard.
That's the other thing -- our parents, intentional or not, teach us that our feelings are bad -- that we can't just feel things -- the pain, joy and truth of our existence.
How many of us were jumping for joy and told to "settle down" -- or sobbing over a loss and told to "get over it" -- my gawd -- how many times have I done this to my own children?
In the process of sorting out my life I seem to be having more sad days than good sometimes -- but now that I'm am allowing myself to feel the pain (or whatever) I'm aware of how much good there really is -- how many angels God has sent my way -- just when I think I can't be any more stupid or my situation can't get worse - there is an angel or a messenger or something -- someone to remind me that adversity is often an opportunity --some things happen for a reason --- you can't change other people --
So I had a revelation the other day -- I forced myself to go to the gym to meet with my trainer -- a bear of a man who has a take no prisoners approach -- I certainly have a love hate relationship with him.
He made me do these chest press things - at 50 pounds, which is a lot for me -- I made it through one set of 18 and hoped he'd let me stop. I told him I as having a bad day, afterall -- (aka "please, pity poor me) but he pushed for another set.
One-third of the way through my arms were on fire -- another third and I wanted to cry and give up -- but then a voice inside me said "Don't let them beat you, not at this, not at anything" -- I finshed that stupid set -- and I hurt, but I did it -- My trainer, Jeff, just looked at me and said "wow".
That thought has kept me going quite a bit the last day or two. I still can't seem to get control of what I'm putting in my mouth -- mostly because I get tired and frustrated.
But it occurs to me as I write this -- that not controlling what I eat, puts someone else in control of my life. Being fat just allows him to feel controlling an superior to me.
Ha -- he doesn't deserve that.
My arms -- and my heart -- for that matter -- hurt like hell -- but it's nothing I can't handle now.