I got a new scale. This one says I weigh 311.8 pounds. Well, hmmmmm…. That is rather disheartening. Doesn’t really matter though. I am the same weight I was before I stepped on the scale. AAAAArrrraaaggggHHHHH!
I am just going to keep going. Sooner or later my body is going to reach the tipping point and the weight is going to start going down. I know I’ve been building muscle, because I can pick up a 40 pound bag of dog feed with one hand and give it a toss… The squishy fat hump that was across the top of my shoulders at the base of my neck is gone.
I can feel the muscles across my upper chest and all the way up and down my back, as well as my abs. Granted there is a layer of fat over them… but I can feel them under there. Feels like I’m growing inside this fat suit, building up to the point to where the fat suit is gone.
Oh yeah… my double chin is gone.
Be grand if I could just flip a switch and this total body transformation could be expedited immediately… like in some sci~fi movie. But, that is not how it works. It is moment by moment, day by day, changing from the inside out.
Attitude and resolve is such a huge part of this transformation. Truth be told mine has been thoroughly tested over the past few days. You’d think that the people supposedly the closest to you would be happy for you, when they see healthy change in your lifestyle. When they see positive changes in your health. When they see changes in your activity level. They said they were. Yeah right… pppphhhhttttttt!!!!!!!!!
OMG! Let the temper tantrums begin….AGAIN! In the past I’ve allowed. Yeah that’s right, I’m owning it. I’ve allowed their temper tantrums (manipulations) to completely derail my efforts. Usually resulted in a massive binge (not this time-not even a little binge) and days or even weeks of dark gray to black depression. The kind of mind numbing grief that leaves you immobile staring at the wall.
NOT THIS TIME! Yeah, I am kinda sad, but not that miserable nasty depression.
I am sad that my mother still refuses to own her own words, and actions. I am sad that she seems to feel it is necessary to “have a death crisis” yet again. (the first one of these I can remember was just before my high school graduation in 1978) Yes I went when the nursing home called me, part of me knowing that it was yet another manipulation, and part of me reeling from hearing how awful she was doing. When I got there she was gluing a mug together. Her color was good, breathing was fine, legs were swelled … no surprise there… all in all considering the massive neglect she has put her body through for 84 years she was doing fine.
I am done taking responsibility for her choices. Doesn’t mean that I don’t love her. Just means that I love myself as well, and I am not torturing myself over her self-destructive choices any longer. I am still tired from the massive adrenaline dump, surge, whatever you want to call it, that kicked in when they called saying she was at death’s door once again. On an up note… I did not have a panic attack or a gastric attack after seeing her. That in itself is major progress… oh yeah… and no binging either.
I actually had a talk with her that I’ve needed to have with her for years. She did her best to stop me from saying what I needed to say to her. She had a friend come in, then went for the constant interruption after her friend left. I got a chair and waited out her friend. Then we had a chat. Or rather I had something I needed to say… she needed to hear it as well, whether she wanted to or not. Truthfully I’m not sure she did hear it. Oh I know physically she did, but actually acknowledging what I had to say, that I don’t know. Only she knows that.
I told her that when it is her time to go (for this body to die) then it is her time to go; not a moment after, not a moment before. So if she had some issues she needed to deal with, then she had best get it done. I said it’s up to her, her life, her issues, Up to her to deal with them. It’s not up to me, it’s up to her. There is no guarantee of tomorrow for any of us, all we actually have in this life is right now, this moment.
I stopped off at Wal-Mart and picked up some supplies, visited with a friend I hadn’t seen in years… ran into her at the store, and came on home.
When I got home I unloaded the supplies, and headed out to the kennels to take care of the dogs. By the time I made it into the house I was totally exhausted and collapsed into a chair. I told my husband about the conversation with my mother, and about running into my friend. Then I sat down at my desk… and what did I hear… cupboard doors slamming in the kitchen. It was 9 pm by that time and I had not “fixed any dinner”.
Yee Haw… let the next tantrum begin.
Really?! Seriously?! I hadn’t eaten any dinner either… I just came in from taking care of the kennels… after dealing with yet another… come quick you mom’s dying… picked up supplies and you are having a bloody temper tantrum over dinner?! OMG! Seriously?! Another manipulative take care of me tantrum. One with my mother today wasn’t enough. Really?! He’d been sitting on his rear in a recliner, watching a big screen tv all bloody day. There are 2 refrigerators, 1 chest freezer, and a pantry… all stocked with food. Seriously you can‘t get something to eat. No I did not fix him any bloody dinner. Nor do I feel guilty about it.
This type of tantrum in the past has resulted in me coddling him, fixing him something to eat then losing it and binging. This time his selfish childish bratty bullying behavior pissed me off. I said enough of this shit and went out the door got in my truck and went for a drive. Bloody well tempted to keep on driving. I sat at a crossroad for quite a while sorting out which direction I was going to go. I decided to come back home.
I am no longer taking responsibility for their poor behavior; not my mother’s nor my husband’s. In the past I have enabled their behavior. I realize this. That, I am responsible for. As for their actual behavior… nah that is not mine that is theirs and I am not carrying the burden of it for them anymore.
I am watching my husband restrict his own activity more and more. It seems like the more active I become the more resistant he is to being active at all. Makes me sad, because I see a once strong man turning into a puffy ill body. The really sad thing is that he is doing it to himself. Back in the day I would have blamed myself for his choices; and ran after him trying to “make it better”. He would scream and yell, stomp and slam, I would shut down, binge, plummet off the edge into a black hole of depression, slowly crawling out after days or weeks, needy, looking for any kind of positive affirmation or affection.
Geez that was a crap way to live. I can see where he might be a bit confused. Lol… where both of them might be.
I am still me…. But I am NOT that person any more. I am done accepting the blame, or the responsibility, for other peoples choices. Your choices… your responsibility. Deal with it.
This is my choice, my responsibility. I choose life. I choose to live. I choose to live guilt free, no regrets!
One of the coolest things about all this….. is …… I am not ANGRY any more. That white hot rage, static in my head, is calming, rather than rage and static it’s morphing into focus. I actually have moments of peace and actual calm. That is so wonderful.
I am free. Hehehehe… the circumstances really don’t matter anymore… I am still free.
Life is a journey, sometimes it is quite the trip.
Mary E. Robbins
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