Today I was in the supermarket using the mirrored wall above the meat products I was supposed to be buying to glare at my reflection. Ok so the angle was awkward and the wobbly edges of my reflection, which only made me more globular, were due more to the warped surface than my own actual outline.
BUT there it was: me glaring at myself and wishing that I was as skinny as I was when I used to think I was fat. Oh for the older fat me, who was actually slim in comparison to the new fat me.
Today when I woke up, even I knew that my leg hair had gone about 40,000 steps too far. They prickled at me when I rubbed a tentative hand down my legs and that was particularly upsetting as I was wearing pants. I have been silent for the past few (20 days) trying to seriously rally back. I’ve been in constant rally mode, it seems.
So my last post was about green juicing. On July 17, at a doctor’s visit, I stepped on the scale to hear that in my 2+ weeks of green juicing I had gained, yes GAINED, 6, count them, SIX pounds. This was despite low calorie intake- but carefully balanced to avoid the starvation mode that would scare my body into holding on to fat <– LOLZ, apparently. I was on high fiber green juices and gallons of water to help flush my system. I WAS DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT! Even if I hadn’t lost 550 lbs, surely GAINING 6 of those &%@#^*$#% things is just WRONG in every single galaxy known to man???? SURELY!
SO on that fateful day, it became official: something inside my body is mega-busted and nobody understands what it is, or how to fix it and it made me scared. No. It actually made me FURIOUS. And sad. And distraught. And filled with the fear that this is my forever look. I DON’T LIKE THIS LOOK!!!! How do I return it? WHAT IF I NEVER GET RID OF IT????
That was July 17.
I clawed my way to the surface of despair just in time for July 22- the Oh So Happy Day, my tiny man turned 1! That was a beautiful day. He’s walking, and babbling a few recognizable words, and several indecipherable ones; he’s social, and smiley, and the sweetest one year old since my firstborn was one himself.
Remembering how I spent the first week of his life hunched over his impersonal plastic hospital bassinet in the Baby ICU, praying that he would be okay, and that he would never remember that he spent much of his first week without being cuddled and swaddled and kissed; praying that he would forget that the first things that clutched his arms were tubes and casts…when I see him now, so happy and confident and hitting all the milestones with style, it warms me through and through. I really did spend all of that July 22 beaming down at my beloved bundle. It was a great day, like a promise of even better to come.
So ten days after publishing my last blog in my June Blog A Day challenge and I find myself sitting here, listless and sighing heavily, with a hint of melancholy in the aftertaste. Why am I so blue? Do I miss the challenge of digging deep and letting the world into my world on a daily basis? The relentless soul searching and pen-and-ink regurgitation was quite stressful at the time so I anticipated much more relief than I can currently lay claim to.
I think a part of it has to do with the fact that I’m sitting here and realizing that as a teacher the work never ends and as a mom the work never ends and Holy Bigglesworth as an about-to-be Masters student, the work never ends so where on earth am I going to find all the time my life needs now and will continue to need when the STORM of September (Me teaching. Me studying. Jude starting school <—ermagerd!!) rains down?!?!?
So I’m duly done and over with the mourning of my old self, since the time period that qualifies as the ‘best old self’ varies wildly. Physically it would be around 2002, when my bulimia (yes, yes, yes, future post I’m sure) had finally shaved all the unwanted pounds right away, and my ferocious dancing schedule kept me tight n toned. My skin as glowing and my hair was noice!
Academically, it was probably 2003 since I was fresh from a scholarship to a French University and my grades were beasting it up- I was turning in A’s almost by accident and without effort, it seemed.
Professionally, that would be around 2011. I named and launched a product that is now seeing roll out in several other countries, building every aspect of its brand identity with my own hands. It got me recognized at an industry gathering and people I’m awe of KNEW MY NAME. Screeeeaaam.
Romantically, of course there was the whole, married the love of my life thing and how that blossomed into our beautiful family, so 2010 (even though that’s only getting more and more amazing, making that more of a jump-off year than a screen-shot year).
And emotionally….hm. Perhaps I’m still seeking emotionally, but I’d say 2009 was a good year for that too.
I’m FOREVER seeking a higher spiritual plane. I will never stop trying to be more and more of God’s Girl, so I’m not sure there’s a YEAR for that, either.
Then there’s 2014. Oh dear sweet 2014, which has felt like such a wrecker of hopes, dreams, aspirations, health and body image. I was quite prepared to just write off this year as a thing to just get through when it dawned on me that as of today, we’re only just ending the first half. THE FIRST HALF! There’s like a whole ‘nother half to come.
There are times in life where your next move begins with words you speak loudly to yourself long before you have even a HOPE of believing them.
Today has been a bad day. I’m mopey and I’m struggling with getting my blood sugar levels high enough to feel truly human.
One of the ‘conditions’ I’m currently dealing with is an inexplicable surge in natural insulin production. Now, as a type 1 diabetic, I shouldn’t really have much if any insulin being produced naturally in my body. Therefore I have to inject before EACH meal (yes. Many ouch a day). Now with no real understanding of HOW my body is doing this magical thing, or what triggers it, or when it could happen what happens is I MUST inject my insulin, like normal, at the normal levels. This is so that if today is normal and no other insulin is lying around my endocrinal system, I can live and I like living.
HOWEVER! If it is NOT a normal day, and my body kickstarts its own insulin thing, then uh-oh…too much insulin in my system. I crash. My sugar dips too low. It struggles to come up. I feel weak, lethargic, like I’m underwater. Or in a really bad funhouse dream. Continue reading “Sad Sunday”→
I’ve been thinking about how that’s another beautiful concept that the world got its grubby little hands on and ruined with all the twisted convolutions we have laid on top of a truly simply, beautiful thing.
Claire Huxtable, whom we all love and adore, (and who will never be anything more than a ‘screen name’ for the truth and majesty that is Phylicia Rashad -who shares my b-day bt-way) said something beautiful. I’ll let her tell you herself:
For those who can’t/won’t watch the clip, she offers coffee to Elvin and Cliff. Elvin pauses and comments, “I didn’t think you did that kind of thing … serve … serve him.” OH NO HE DI’NT! Coz Mz Claire comes back with a true life lesson:
“Serve? As in ‘serve your man’? Let me tell you something, Elvin. You see, I am not “serving” Dr. Huxtable, okay? That’s the kind of thing that goes on in a restaurant. Now I’m going to bring him a cup of coffee, just like he did this morning, and that, young man, is what marriage is made of: give and take, fifty-fifty. And if you don’t get it together, and drop these macho attitudes, you are never going to have anyone bring you anything, anywhere, anytime, anyplace ever.”
I think God has given me an interesting life for a reason. I may never fully understand all the whys and wherefores of every exciting thing I have lived through, but I know through to my core that everything I’m going through is very much for a reason.
Some of them I get pretty quickly.
I think becoming a mother unlocked so many deeper understandings of God’s love, and how He could punish us, but still love us; how He could watch us make less than wise choices and still love us- how He could LET us make those choices and still love us; and how everything He did was born out of love even when it doesn’t look or feel or sound like it (ever yelled at your child because you were SO GLAD the thing they did that could have killed them didn’t and you just don’t even know what to do with the intensity of all those feelings, prime among them ‘love’? Yeah.)
Today, on my way back to the staff room, I ran into a few of my weaker French students thrilled that it was the last day of school (for THEM, don’t get me started on the back end we teachers face, with the marking and report cards and parent queries. Sigh). They were so happy to hear I would be teaching them in the next grade up that they did an impromptu dance. “Mrs Graham! We love you SOOO much, you see! You’re our FAVOURITE teacher! We LOVE everything about you, you make us laugh, even when you’re cussing us off! WE JUST LOVE YOU! See you next year!!!” And off they whooped, looking back occasionally to wave at me and clap gleefully.
Sometimes there is nothing left to give.
Some days, the urge to lay on the floor groaning softly, “You win, life, you win” overtakes us, and it is only the fear of what may be on the floor under your desk that keeps you upright, content instead to drape yourself overs its rickety wooden surface whimpering, “Cookie. Must have cookie…”
Some days you don’t have it in you to smile and pretend that today’s a good day and that you’re full of hope and optimism for tomorrow.
Sometimes you’re just too human to be anything but your sorriest human self.
And humans are broken.
So some days- just some days, not all of them- your happy button is broken and there’s nothing you can do about it at the moment.
And the absolute worst thing to encounter on a day like that, is some oblivious soul who says things like JUST smile. JUST remember tomorrow is another day. JUST be happy you’re alive.
Sir and/or Madam: if you do not remove yourself and your chipper clichés away from my desk, I may be forced to kick you right in the encouragements.
Today is a day where I just need a day to be…broken.
Is that okay, world?
If come the weekend, I still appear somewhat grumbly, I give you free rein to pelt me with Instagram optimism and iCookies.
But some days, when there’s nothing left but the dim awareness that one cannot in fact lie naked under one’s desk at work as a means of coping, and a grudging concession to social niceties ( like grunting in response to greetings)…
Then one deserves a minute to simply
Today, ‘being’ is the best I can offer.
Apologies in advance.
But please, no one leaves my blog without some cookies ❤
Because everyone needs courage for SOMETHING, and everyone should have some.
One day, we’ll all be some version of fine, friends. And for today, we can let that be enough.