Does a healthy mind really make a healthy body?

I was a thin gal once.  It took me until my teenage years to get there, but I was thin once.  What I found interesting back then was all I had to do was move more than most to get there.  You see, back then, I was able to eat candy and ride my bicycle for miles and managed to lose weight.  I guess it was the “move more” movement that worked for me, but once I got my drivers license, I resorted to eating less… way less to stay thin through the rest of my teenage years.  Little did I know that I would go down a very long spiral into becoming a stress eater with high expectations that being on a diet for a week would be the answer I need to get thin again.  Adulthood really let me down when I worked in an office and sat most of the day.  When I worked in the salon, I was on my feet.  There has never been a balance to consider as my age went up with my waistline.  The moment I fully landed in obesity city is when I was pregnant with my daughter.  Probably didn’t help that I waited until I hit my 30’s to become a mother, but having my daughter was worth it.  I sadly was complacent in overweight-ville for far too long and lost focus.

 

Believe me, I tried dieting to lose the weight, but there were so many roadblocks that set me up for failure.  I tried Jenny Craig and managed to lose a few pounds, but could not see myself eating Jenny Craig approved TV dinners for the rest of my life.  I had heard of some people succeeding, but would land back in obese city once they were left to their own devises to maintain that goal weight.  Sure, there were some that probably won the battle and stayed a winner, but I have no doubt that there were just as many that fell off the goal weight pedestal they worked at getting to.  I had tried Weight Watchers…. Twice!  I did well my first round with losing 45 pounds, but hit the brick wall of a plateau that had me quit.  I figured that once the scale budged more than a tenth of a pound, I would jump back on the food Nazi bandwagon and get to my goal.  It was nice to have anything I wanted to eat and maintain my weight, but lost focus and my weight skyrocketed before I could stop it.  I went back to Weight Watchers to try again, but their program changed in a way that I couldn’t meet that important weight loss goal of 10% of my body weight.  It was like my body decided that losing weight was a bad thing and held tightly to every fat cell that resided inside me.  It was a plateau situation all over again!  Only, I managed to lose 15 pounds and not the 45 I once lost before.

With even more weight to lose compared to the first time on Weight Watchers, I decided that after a year of no changes on the scale, I decided to go on the journey alone.  At least my wallet got a break.  That monthly fee to sit in meetings and be told it is bad to eat like normal people when it came to celebrations and eating out with friends.  That constant nagging need to figure if I could spare the points for my day to have a piece of cake at the birthday party or a few chips with salsa for a snack.  Heck, trying to figure out how many points it is for the salad dressing at the restaurant was giving me a migraine.  I understand that things should hold a value, but every bleeping crumb that passed my lips was getting to be a bit tiresome.  Then, let’s not forget the activity points you can earn.  Gee, was shoveling the driveway of snow for an hour a high intensity exercise with more points I can eat?  Or was my shoveling of the snow for an hour a low intensity activity because I didn’t throw out my back?  I was truly starting to believe that I lacked the ability to decide for myself anymore, but I at least figured that if I ate less carbs and ate more lean meats with vegetables and fruit, something will happen.

For the next couple years, I thought I had my eating all figured out, but then the evil beast all women call Menopause came knocking on my door.  The hot flashes, the mood swings, the night sweats and the itchy skin came to play and they brought the most unwelcome friend to the party…. Weight gain.  That beast thwarted every attempt I made to lose weight.  Sure, I had a moment that proved promising and that was drowning myself in drinking only water.  Sadly, I was not aware that too much of a good thing can potentially kill you when your sodium levels drop and you almost pass out doing ordinary tasks around the house, but I did lose 10 pounds.  With a little tweaking, I got myself back to feeling normal again, but it took me gaining those 10 pounds I lost.

I had accepted my fate and my body decided that I am meant to be obese.  That is when something changed inside me.  I started losing weight!  Albeit, it was not much.  A pound or two here and there, but there was progress.  I recall going to the doctor and was told to step on that blasted scale, only to find that I was down 4 pounds!  It is not anything monumental in the eyes of my doctor, but it was a welcome surprise to me!  I started thinking long and hard as to how this happened and came to the conclusion that my daily taking of a multivitamin was the step in the right direction.  Sure, I took vitamins while on all those diets and restrictive eating plans I tried over the years, but this just seemed…. Different.  It was not some disgusting horse-pill sized daily vitamin that got stuck in my throat every day.  It was a chew-able gummy vitamin that tasted like candy to me.  Made taking vitamins so much easier and I actually look forward to taking them.  I also added a probiotic gummy that has prebiotics for digestive health.  It was like getting candy for an after breakfast treat!  With taking vitamins daily now, I noticed that I am not painfully sick in the fall and winter like I have been, and it has become easier to eat in moderation.  Of course, eating in moderation has been something I always worked on, but there have been times I would take a second helping without thinking much of it.

Another thing I noticed is that my family life has changed.  I became a grandma almost a year ago and with the additional mouth to feed and the budget to maintain, I went into what I call the martyr mode of eating.  I made sure that everyone had enough to eat before I even think of having seconds of anything (and that included vegetables), and I always make my portions small to start.  Noticing that being satiated was enough and getting stuffed only made me want to throw up.  Along with the change in eating, I was moving more because I had more cleaning set before me.  I have noticed that I am okay with snacking here and there, but even that has improved.  I am not denying myself anything and it is so freeing from all those years of counting calories, points, and whatnot while forcing a diet on myself.

Sure, there are times I do not see those big changes on the scale, but every pound matters.  The last time I stepped on the scale for my official total, I was down a total of 41 pounds!  Of course, there are times the number on the scale goes the wrong way, or no way at all, but I remind myself that getting upset only pushes me to give up hope.  I am losing this weight for myself and nobody else.  I have a goal weight in mind and I remind myself that it will take time.  That there are obstacles everywhere, but if I appreciate the progress and not beat myself on the setbacks, I believe that there is hope that I can get there.  Not in the time-frame that I would like to have, but in the time-frame that my body allows it… it will happen.  It boils down to having a little self-love and a whole lot of patience.

Just recently, a client that has not seen me in months came in to get her hair done.  As I walked up to greet her, she gave me the compliment that I needed to hear… “WOW! You lost weight!  I almost didn’t recognize you!!”  Just knowing that people can see the change means a lot to me.  It validates the progress that I have made and is peeling away the pounds that were hiding the person inside.  The person I am proud of.  As long as I remain positive in my efforts and strive to keep trying.... I will get there.

So, in conclusion.... Does a healthy mind make a healthy body?  I think it does.

Thanks for reading and have a great day!

Typing out loud (a mental pressure release)...

I was going to begin today's blog entry with a disclaimer, but to be totally honest here... I always wondered why I need to explain myself about explaining myself.  That I blog as a form of release to what is trapped within me that I need to talk, or rather type out loud something that is on my mind.  What I blog about is feelings I have over things that happen around me.  My end result, if a person chooses to read this blog, is to maybe see that they are not alone and maybe, just maybe, they can relate in some way.  I am not here to point blame at anyone else, but myself on why I feel like I do.  What I do hope to really get out of my typing out loud is a way to find a solution (by typing it out) to why I am feeling the way that I do.  Many call this therapy, I see it as a reset to my feelings... a release of sorts, one thought at a time.  Of course, with a load of revisions that make what I have to say too further explain myself poorly.

Fact:  Everyone has someone that will judge you regardless of the efforts made.  Heck, some people are so focused that their beliefs are the only ones everyone needs to adhere to, and will utilize their full arsenal of their logic to verbally eviscerate you for thinking otherwise.  I am not one of those people, but have fell victim to such attacks often.  Thus, it is taking me to second guess sharing my raw truth today, but part of my process of blogging is to accept that there are some very critical people out there that will lash out.  I just need to be strong enough to brave the slings and arrows with understanding, compassion and love because we all have our own stories to tell and battles to fight.

*****

I believe that I am an empathetic person.  I also believe that my level of empathy has been learned over years of experiences that required to think of others first.  This is in no way of being sympathetic, and yes, I looked up the definitions to make certain of the difference.  What I do find interesting is how both can play off one another.  Sympathy is a reactive feeling, while empathy is the deeper understanding.  What I am trying to understand is how my deeply ingrained level of empathy can turn me so raw with emotion.  So raw, that it scares me.  Could it be because I am exposed to so much hurt around me all the time that it is actually breaking my spirit?  I am not sure, but I am not the easily jovial person I once was.  Sure, you can call me depressed, but I do not fit in the cookie-cutter description of a depressed person.  Sure, I can get sad from time to time, but how do I explain how I can feel emotions off of people?  It doesn't happen all the time, and I would like to admit that I am wrong more times than I am right, but when it does..... it punches me in the gut.... hard.  It is hard to believe that I actually felt a person's fear by touching their shoulder, but I did.  The anxiety of having no control and the fear of it happening.  Heck, I was experiencing a charged atmosphere filled with anger, frustration and impatience that punched me in the gut so hard, I thought I was going to throw up!  Another time, I walked into a room and felt so overwhelmed that I felt like I couldn't breathe!  It felt like the air was filled with sludge of sadness, loneliness, and defeat. I am not all that certain if these feelings are the true feelings of what is around me, or rather this is just my own inner feelings rising to the surface, but what I have been feeling is not willing to be ignored.  What I do find strange is if I am depressed, then why can I find calm and contentment in the storm of emotions?

Upon further thought, I am curious as to why I feel the way that I have been feeling lately?  Maybe it is the sympathetic part of me that I fear I would hurt the feelings of others with my inner storm.  I know that DD will probably read this and tell me that I am wrong, but as of late, I have noticed a level of stress bubbling under the surface with her.  Understandably, I know that it is due to her busy life of college, work and being a mom.  I understand the need to just shut me out of deep conversations because we are of different generations and different life experiences, but we also know that we lack real communication skills.  That is my fault because I just refuse to believe that some, or even most of her challenges are as daunting as she claims it to be.  As her mom, I become this person I claim I am not... a judgmental one.  I know it is because I have expectations from her.  Expectations that she achieves more than I have.  To reach the goals of greatness that I see in her where I have admittedly fallen short on.  Of course, my expectations have come at a price.  A price that others may see as enabling her by doing things she is capable of doing, if given the chance.  Then, there is my inability to comment on the positive acts she has done and push her to do even more, or point out where she needs to improve.  What really makes me mad at myself is how I could demand more from her if I am the one lacking and pushing for perfection if I have flaws of my own to deal with!  Of course, I also see a bit of fear in her eyes.  The same fear I have in mine.  The fear of failure where succession is required.  I guess that is why DD chooses to avoid the deep conversations with me.  Really, how can someone talk about fear of failure to the one person they don't want to disappoint?  

I don't want to disappoint anyone.  That is the "people pleaser" in me.  I believe that is the crux in my enabling dilemma.  I want everyone to be happy.  My job requires it, my family needs it, and I am forgetting how to be happy with myself.  I wonder if my internal sadness is what is bringing everyone down.  My intentions are to not be so sad, emotional, or in physical pain so often.  I am not pleased with my inner turmoil about how I got this way.  Sure, I can blame everyone about how I am feeling, but the one person responsible is me.  I am responsible for my achievements, my failures, and my feelings.  I believe it is a matter of strength to stand up and take ownership of all successes and failures.  To stand up and face those slings and arrows that will come my way from blogging.  To be graceful and appreciative to kind words and support.  To be accepting that not everything is going to be perfect or even just okay.  To continue on my journey of life lessons and maybe, just maybe, be a little more brave.

I think that is enough for today.  

Thanks for reading. 

His way / her way.....

For years, I have been struggling with understanding DH.  While I know that while dating, he was much easier to understand.  It was after we got married is where I felt I became confused.  You see, we changed.  I became more focused on family and acknowledgement of the effort put into it.  I also had expectations that were to build from the foundation of our dating relationship, even bordering upon what I saw in other married couples and their families.  Little did I know I have been living with blinders on for so long.  I can easily say that I am a bit selfish when it came to what I thought marriage was all about.  I mean. really, marriage is not all about accolades and pats on the back for what you do.  It is much more and not always what you think or expect.  It is more about being selfless than selfish.

Sure, we can have expectations and opinions on how two people connect and stay connected, but we need to remember that everyone does things differently to get their point across.  It takes being open to looking at things at a different angle to get a better picture.

Almost 7 months ago, DD had a baby.  As an old saying goes, "man plans, God laughs", but in this case.... it is a blessing we so needed in my family and I am thankful for the blessing my grandson is.  During her pregnancy, I saw two big things I would have not seen coming.  DD maturing in such a manner that I am so proud of her, and DH being even more of the stoic rock that holds us together.  His acceptance and support made my heart grow to double it's size, and when he finally opened up to me with his feelings (which, is not something he likes to do)in words, he opened my eyes to see how much he does love me and our growing family.  I learned that while I am one to expect words from DH, I failed to see his actions in the same light.  That moment he opened up and exposed his feelings through words, I started to understand.  He assumed the actions he did were the words that spoke volumes to me and his family, but I failed to see the meaning.  Obviously, a classic lack of communication that I have heard that makes marriages fail.  Fortunately, DH and I are stubborn enough to tough it out.  Believe me, we had a moment where we would have parted ways.  It was discussed, but luckily we decided to try harder and do better. So far, we are at 21 years and still trudging along together.

I guess that there comes a time when something so small becomes the catalyst that expands the vision we so desperately need to continue forward.  While most may see that speaking of feelings is small in the grand view of things, it is huge when it comes to DH and myself.  Sure, I can blog my feelings, but I will admit I am not the best at "talking" feelings.  Probably because I fear hurting someone else's feelings.  I don't want that ability to shoot first and worry about the damage later.  I am not so painfully self-righteous that I treat everyone in my path as a moron lacking common sense.  I am aware that my views on things are different than some, and sometimes different than most, but I never felt it is necessary to cram my opinions down the throats of every person I come across.  Hell, I have never targeted a single person with disdain because I am not their biggest fan.  I refuse to argue over trivial crap just to prove a point.  I guess that is why I choose to put my head down and take my lashings, but there are times I do try to stand up for what I believe in or believe is right.  I don't see myself as weak, I see myself as tired.  But when I hear words of feelings that support me and the efforts I put forth... I feel validated.

For years, I felt unappreciated for all that I do.  The sacrifices I make for my family not being validated has been my anchor.  Unbeknownst to me, the same feelings existed inside DH.  While what he believed was what a marriage was all about, did not register to what my views have been, and for years we have been at an impasse.  Both silently fighting without a word being spoken.  Sure there have been outbursts here and there.  Mostly about trivial crap that repeats itself a few times before something is said.  Still, this silent argument will continue because we are now at a point that we are taking things for granted again, but the argument has weakened some because we had a moment that placed a spotlight where we needed it to be.  Highlighting that we have our own set of actions that does say that we do really care and love one another.

I am in no way saying what we have in our marriage is perfect.  There are times I wonder what goes through DH's head sometimes.  I wonder what his upbringing has taught him to believe in some of the actions, or non-actions, taken are considered appropriate.  What is thought of as "normal" expectations of family.  I would assume the same goes for me when DH wonders why I do the things I do. 

I have a fairly recent event that proves that DH and I were raised differently.  Almost a month ago, I tripped down the bottom of my stairs on a dog toy and hurt my foot and ankle.  As I was crying at the bottom of the stairs, swearing up a blue streak, DH's only comment at first was... "You okay?"  With my colorfully worded reply of "no", all he could say is, "what do you want me to do about it?"..  Really????  An ice pack would be nice.  Maybe an offer to take me to the doctor to get it checked out?  Nope.  Just shouting stupid questions from the comfort of his damn chair is what I get.  I wonder if his mother was the only caregiver in the family.  No judging here, but maybe it is just a guy thing because I do not recall my dad offering medical assistance to my mom if she hurt herself.  It is possible that boys and men cornered the market on being taken care of instead of being caregivers.  I can only assume the exception to the rule is male doctors because it is their profession to be a caregiver, but not exactly in the capacity of a woman, though.  I just find it odd that there has always been an imbalance of sorts.  Of course, if DH fell down the steps.... one of two things would happen.... 1. He would act like he is dying, or 2. He would grit his teeth and "walk it off" to prove a point how tough he is.  I can say this.... the pain level is the deciding factor and DH is stubborn enough to avoid the doctor.  Could be a third option, come to think of it.... He could do both 1 and 2 while arguing that he does not need to see a doctor.  Totally frustrating when he does that, but I would not be rolling my eyes while I try to be helpful like he was.

I guess what I am getting at is communication is hard and the way people communicate does become easier once you pay attention to the little things because it is those little things that can shine a bright light on something you are lacking to see.  Actions do speak volumes if you are willing to listen with your eyes from time to time.  Be aware, try to understand, and if you need to hear the words... all you need to do is ask.  Sure, it may sound needy to ask for validation, but those that truly love you will not see it as weakness,  but as strength to acquire it.  Sure, there is another edge to the sword that is the opposite, but life is like that.... in order to feel love, you need to experience heartbreak... in order to be understood, you need to find a way to express yourself that makes sense.... in order to to have balance, you need to give and receive.  Life is messy, complicated and painful at times, but it can be wonderful, too.  It all boils down to choices.  You can choose to focus on the negatives or you can choose to find the positives 

Fear factor mash-up

Good morning.  I have not done much when it comes to blogging lately, as well as being social media active.  I have my reasons and it fits perfectly with today's blog entry.  That is why I an titling this, "Fear Factor Mash-Up".

A couple years back, there was a whole stir of drama over my blog and the sharing of my thoughts.  The phone calls that only offered scathing opinion about me blogging my thoughts had me take a strong stand on cutting off the drama at it's knees through taking a long break from all forms of media.  I stopped blogging, I stopped being socially active on social media, and I even screened my calls through weighing the value of hearing another scathing opinion or debate topic at how I am destroying lives through sharing my thoughts on things.  I never really thought that picking apart my thought process, exposing my raw feelings, and basically sharing my opinion was so dangerous to those I never even wrote about.  Every word shared was picked apart in such a manner that twisting it into something it wasn't became the fuel to bully me into hiding in the corner and the starting point of how much I hated who I am.  I, to this day, truly believe that I just don't matter, and sharing anything with anyone is just a waste of time and energy.  I have become the poster child of what to avoid.

Now, if you happen to have a conversation with me, I appear perfectly fine.  I will crack jokes on my behalf.  I tend to be a little insightful, but I also try to keep my talking to a minimum.  I believe that I have hit my limit on being told that I talk too much, I talk to loud, and I lack the ability to do all that much right.  But in all honesty, I am a beaten down individual.  I am fearful of hurting anyone's feelings and I am a self proclaimed "people pleaser"; a person that never asks for anything, but will jump to do even more if there is a hint of displeasure.  My home life is one example.  I do all the cooking, cleaning and errand running for everyone in my home.  I have enabled my family to expect things to be done for them.  I alter my plans to rush home to cook dinner so my family can be fed when they come in the door.  I wash the dishes because nobody is willing to step up and help and a sink filled with dirty dishes and a pile of dirty stuff is frowned upon here, but if I left a sink filled with dirty dishes with the hopes someone would help me, one of two things happen....  The sink stays filled with dirty dishes, or someone will complain that there are no dishes to eat off of.  On the rare occurrences that someone does wash the dishes.... they will either demand credit or complain that they always wash the dishes.  Same goes for laundry.  I will sort, wash, dry and fold the laundry.  My only request is that they put their clean clothes away.  What usually happens is that clothes are grabbed from the piles to be worn and as they look through the clean clothes, a majority of it gets unfolded, and tossed to the floor.  There are times people will do a load of laundry, but it ends up in one of three places....  sitting in the washing machine (wet), sitting in the dryer (dried), or thrown on the dryer (not folded in a wrinkly pile.  Sometimes, stuff is still wet in the pile). While nobody seems to care all that much, it is heartbreaking that nobody wants to help me.  If I ask.... I am fighting a battle that I always lose at.

I will admit that I liked talking to people.  That is, until I was told (repeatedly) that I talk too much.  Well, that and the opinion that what I have to say is useless.  I am socially inept on social media.  I have no niche to claim as my own.  I hate ruffling the metaphorical feathers of others, so I try to avoid offering an opinion.  Being told that my opinions are stupid and the diatribe to follow that points out as to why I am so uninformed just makes me run and hide.  I am not a death-watch monger that feels the need to talk about death all the time.  I never understood the need to seek out depressing topics of discussion.  I am not all "zen", like some of my friends with daily motivational reminders that I am worthy because.... let's be honest here.... I don't feel all that worthy.  I just try to do my best and hopefully make it through the day without pissing someone off.  I hate confrontation.  With being beaten down to just keep my damn mouth shut has me be that pathetic girl hiding in the corner, hoping to be noticed. I hate taking pictures of myself because I know that I am not photogenic, and when someone takes a picture of me.... all I see are the flaws that society tries to avoid front and center.  I believe that there are some really good causes out there that need support (animals, kids, cancer, wounded warriors, homelessness), but I can't pick just one to stand behind fully.  Hell, I'm a "cause" I can't even stand behind. 

I have become a wishy-washy fearful person that has lost her way because of her people-pleasing ways.  I just want people to be happy around me, but I fail every stinking time.  So in this mash-up, I am facing my fears of what people think because I already know that I will never measure up to those perfect people that dictate what I need to change to be more acceptable in public.  So here I am.  Ready to take on more silent opinion where I am lacking.  I lack the thin physique of my youth, I am not as wrinkle free as I was, I am a worn-down shell of a once vital woman that holds everything back because I really do want to be loved (flaws and all), and lacking appreciation for all that I can accomplish.  I am not asking to be put on a pedestal and praised, but sometimes it feels as if I really want to.  Maybe it is the lack of thought when it comes to me.  The feeling I get that I really do not matter anymore is what hurts.  I never had a party thrown in my honor (for those wondering... a birthday party.  Being born so close to a holiday... nobody ever came to my childhood birthday party.  DH never threw me a 40th birthday party like I did for him, nor did he do one for my 50th last year), I never get a "just because" surprise offering of flowers, I never received a "thinking of you" card in the mail, and while I am not a person that hugs people all that much.... I would really like to get a hug once in a while from someone.  Even a kind word that I am worthy would be nice.

Okay, now go on and dissect what I shared today.  I will be awaiting the call with what I have done wrong this time.  Oh, and no "pity calls" please.  I have a lot to do and very little help with getting it done.  Enjoy your day and thanks for being curious enough to read this.

Never ready

I knew there would come a day that my job as a mother would come to an end.  I know that I will always be a mom for DD, but she has taken on a big responsibility of her own.  She became a mom.  Yep, my baby girl is a mom to an adorable baby boy.  The story of how she became a mother is quite the adventure, but not my story to tell.  I can definitely say while this was a surprise and obviously not planned, it is truly a blessing nonetheless.  My grandson is a real charmer!  Yep, I am a grandmother at (cough, cough) 50.

What today's installment is about it how life manages to shift and change without respect of time needed to process to new stages of life.  It feels like it was only yesterday that I was holding my baby girl in my arms.  I remember telling her to never grow up so I don't ever have to face the day she becomes an adult and will start a life of her own.  Regardless of her resistance to listening to what I say, she grew up..... way too fast for my liking, but she is a person I am proud of.  She fought with me often, she tried my patience on multiple occasions, but I would never change a thing.  Well, maybe some things, but having her in my life is not one of them.  There were times I actually wished she would understand how hard it is to be a mother and understand why we do the things we do.  I was just not prepared for her to become a mother now.  I can agree with the phrase, "Man plans, God laughs", because I had big plans for her and he decided otherwise.  I wanted her to follow the plans my mother laid out before me (get your life in order, get married, then have kids), sure it is traditional and what was expected in my mother's generation, but it still manages to make sense.  Since that plan did not happen, DD has a tougher road to follow, but I still want to help her reach her goals regardless of the challenges she now has bestowed upon her.  She has not finished college (she just started), has not started a career, and while I am aware of her boyfriend's proposal.... is not married.  I am aware that in this day and age, it is not a requirement to be married to have a child, but it does offer some piece of mind that there is another person committed to a relationship and to the care of an innocent life.  I know that DD's fiance' is a good guy.  He is fully ensconced in the role of father, he is being financially supportive of my grandson, he is supportive of DD and her desire to finish college, and he loves her about as much as he loves his son (which is a lot)....  it actually makes me a little jealous that she has such a supportive partner.  DH is a good guy, but was not as involved in the day-to-day needs when DD was a baby.  He was supportive, but there always seemed to be some kind of disconnect between them.  I believed it is because DH is not one to share feelings while DD needed him to show more emotion.... to make a deeper connection.  Thinking back, I can see that he tried, but at the time it did not feel like all that much.  How sad is that?  DH was not given credit for trying until now.

Given that the arrival of my grandson was considered not just a surprise, but a fast and furious adventure, so has the progression of things I am not prepared for.  I was not exactly prepared to have a grandson, but here I am embracing it like a duck takes to water.  I love that little nugget like if he was my baby.  Yep, I do call him nugget. I have embraced having DD and the little nugget live with us.  I knew they have been planning on moving out, but I thought I had more time.  I was (and am) still not prepared for her leaving so soon.  You see, my previous plans are still firmly in place in my mind.  She has not finished her studies at the local college yet, so she would still live here.  Then, her plans were to transfer to another college that would require her to move away for school and I get those random weekend visits that buries me in dirty laundry and an empty fridge.  Once she finished with college, she would live with me for a while as she would find a job and get her future in order, then, she would move out.  I figured I had at least another 4 or 5 years.  After the announcement last night that an apartment was found, I get only another week or two to have her and the baby here.  I am blessed to at least have some time with both my daughter and grandson under my roof, but I fear that once I am no longer so close.... I will no longer be needed and I won't get to see my baby's face every day, or even get to kiss the cheeks of my beautiful grandson when the need arises.  I will miss hearing the sounds my grandson makes (even his gassy sounds) echoing in my home.  I will be in a constant sense of unease because I cannot protect them from life outside my home.  There is a lot of bad things happening out there and I want to keep them safe with me.  I know I did a good job raising DD, or at least I believe I did the best I can do, but everything has happened so fast it is hard to let go and let my baby fly away from the nest.

After taking a moment to walk away and think about things, I realized that nobody is truly ever ready for big changes.  Regardless of how aware we are that nothing is meant to stay forever, we never are prepared.  There is never enough time.  If we could have one more day, a week, a month, a year.... it still does not prepare us.  Sure, we can come to terms with it, but it does not make it any easier when it happens.  There will always be the need for just a little more time.  I think the same goes for just about everything in life.  Especially, when we place a value on it.

With all that in mind, I know it is necessary for DD to take the next step....  To build a life of her own with her fiance' and their son.  It still does not make it any easier for me to embrace it.  I was never ready the moment I held her in my arms.

Thanks for reading.

Fear

Fear is one thing that affects me the most these days.  Fear of the unknown, fear of judgement, fear of mistakes, fear of rejection, fear of loss.... fear.  An emotion so powerful that it causes anxiety so strong that it can paralyze a person.

Sure, fear can be something enjoyed as well.  That boost of adrenaline that gives us the option of fight or flight.  While I am not any form of an adrenaline junkie, I suppose I can see the appeal.  I seem to be more on the side of fear being a feeling best avoided.

While I make this blog entry, I am riddled with fear.  The fear of judgement races to the front of the line.  Coming along for the ride is fear of being misunderstood.  The reason for this is because people have the ability to twist words to fit to their design.  I have been a victim of my words being twisted into something entirely different than what I meant.  And with that, I am judged very harshly for it.  But today, I feel that this entry must be made.  I will face my fears and hit that publish button today.

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Even the most intelligent people make mistakes.  It is from those mistakes we learn the hard truth that we are not perfect.  Regardless of what others may think of us or want to believe we are.  Sure, we try to make all the right decisions and choose the correct path, but it is the fear of making mistakes in the eyes of those that expect perfection that can create a series of other fears.  Lets begin with the first fear after a mistake has been made.... fear of being misunderstood and the fear of judgement.  Mistakes start as an attempt to change or rectify a situation, but sometimes mistakes are made because our thought process gets clouded.  While we tend to believe we make sound choices at the moment, or in the moment, the reasoning may not be acceptable by another.  I'd like to say this is because opinions do come to light when it comes to attempting to understand why a person did what they did, but manage to judge instead of understand.  That is what judgement is... an opinion believed before all facts are presented.  Basically, judging the worthiness of a book solely by it's cover.  It is the fear of judgement that what was once seen as good, being seen as bad in the eyes of those we hold in high regard.

Following the fear of judgement and being misunderstood, there is the fear of rejection.  Being rejected solely upon not fitting in the parameters of what is expected.  Yes, everyone has expectations and should strive to have these demands met, but to what end?  There is zero compromise with some.  It is a black or white kind of world.  The harsh opinions that dictate right from wrong in such a vicious way that those that try to appease these people are fearful of not just judgement, but fearful of rejection.  Best example of this is found in relationships.  And the spectrum of relationships spans beyond friends and into families.

Fear of disappointment is a tricky one.  This one ties a fair amount of fears in a neat little package.  A child being fearful of disappointing a strict parent with a rigid set of views and values faces not just judgement (ridicule), but can lead to rejection (being disowned; kicked out of the family fold), as well.  Of course, we cannot forget that there is a fair amount of misunderstanding in this scenario because there are times when even the strictest of people will compromise (unwillingly) because the love between a parent and child is unconditional.  But sometimes, that fear of disappointment goes beyond the first ripple in the family spectrum.  It may not be the child's parents that they are fearing, but the extended family of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  Even friends can cause a person to step back and avoid total open honesty.  While we would like to believe that honesty is the best policy, it is the fear of the reaction to the truth that gives us pause.  The only way to know is to face the fear, tell the truth and face the consequences from your actions.  Honesty can be painful and liberating at the same time.  Is it hearing the truth that softens the blow of the magnitude of the situation?  Usually, not at first, but our character is based upon the challenges we face and how we deal.  It is taking the time to digest the facts and come to terms with the truth that makes the difference.  It also takes a person willing to make that time to do so.

The bow that wraps the box of fears is the fear of the unknown.  This is the most paralyzing fear.  The fears that preceded this one pale in comparison because we face the unknown every day.  While there are times we are immune to the risks we face every day, there are some things that come to light that cannot give the answers we seek until it happens.  And even then, there is no absolute.  Just a gateway to choices to make and hope that the choice we make is the right one.  It is faith that pushes us forward to making the next step.  The faith that everything will be okay in the end.  As we all know that faith is believing in something we cannot touch... someone we cannot touch.  As for me, I believe in God.  God means love, compassion, tolerance, acceptance, and forgiveness to all that believe in him.  He holds our fate.  He is the author of our individual story.  His son sacrificed himself for absolution of the sins of all... to be forgiven when we choose what is seen as the wrong path.  We have been given choices because God sees to it.  Yes, I have fears of what is going to happen next.  I have fears of what happens tomorrow, but I have faith that God has a plan for me.  I believe he has a plan for everyone, regardless of religious affiliation.  Even those that don't.  What I am fearful in the unknown is on this plane of existence and with the people I strive very hard to not disappoint, but have....  to try to not fail, but failed anyway...  to be understood, but not be.... to be free from judgement, but being judged regardless.  The list goes on and on, but I do wonder....  are people capable of forgiveness?  Forgiving people of their secrets when there should be none?  Forgiving people of their fears?  Because, let's be honest here... we all have secrets we are ashamed of.  Wouldn't it be so freeing to release the shame, embrace the truth and be accepted unconditionally because of it?  I'd think so, but sadly fear has a tight grip and stops people from trying.

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I would like to give you a little information before questions and phone calls from family (and friends) come flying at me.  Today's blog entry is about a personal crisis that I would like to keep to myself and will not be discussing it to anyone until I feel I am ready.  Writing about fears is a step in addressing my crisis and affirming my faith in order to move forward and figure out what I will be choosing to do next.  I am not needing any assistance in my journey at this moment, but when I am ready it is heard with an open mind and an open heart.  I hope you can respect my wishes and wait until I am ready to talk.  Thank you.

The death of tradition....

It is November... the precipice of the holiday season.  Thanksgiving is literally around the corner with Christmas hot on it's heels.  Then, in a blink of an eye.... it is New Years.  All those family traditions that I do my best to keep alive is dying and this year will show how dead my holiday spirit is really is.  Pretty sad to realize that my efforts have been in vain all these years, but when one person holds the holiday spirit for the whole family.... it is no surprise that this was going to happen.  Here is my story to how this happened to me.....

I have grown up with the traditions that most people have.  A house filled with family, friends, laughter, love and food.  Sometimes, decorations are involved.  Thanksgiving is known for the huge feast of Turkey and all the trimmings with no complaints of the increase on the scale or the nap that follows a full tummy.  Christmas (my most favorite time of the year), with all the decorations, the lights, the time with family, and that constant reminder of "it's the thought that counts" when you unwrap the fifth hat and scarf set.  It is that feeling of togetherness of family that rarely ever gets time to spend together.  Sure, I have no doubt that people can try to carve out a night here and there to invite family over for dinner, but with the hustle and bustle of life in general, it is hard to navigate the perfect time for everyone, thus, the appreciation of the holidays because people will make the time.  Of course, it never hurts to have a tradition to give the holiday that added something that makes it special.

Now, with a small family of my own, I have tried to keep the traditions alive.  I have made the final push to unite all family from DH's side with mine to celebrate the season, but sadly I have run out of steam to keep doing it.  You see, while I work hard to keep the traditions alive, my little family unit has no desire to participate in these traditions.  At Thanksgiving, DH takes his seat on the recliner to watch TV while I scurry about cooking and cleaning for the arrival of family to come.  While I am running like my life depends upon it, I have to ask for help and get that feeling of guilt that I will never measure up to our parents for the holidays.  DH's mom is a saint and I swear that she has forest creatures at the ready to help her to have her house be as spotless as it is, cook a delicious meal and still manage to not look completely frazzled.  While I know that my mom had her magical powers, I at least knew she had the ability to place a fire under her offspring's backside to help out.  Sure, I can ask DD for a little help, but with her work and school schedule, she needs her sleep during these holiday breaks.  Oh, who am I kidding!!  She hides in her room for a reason and that is to avoid manual labor over the holidays.  While there is plenty to be done before the actual day that family comes over.... I am left to tackle it all on my own with the added obstacle....  DD's boyfriend.  It seems that my house is the place to hang out and it is really hard to clean the house while you have your daughter and her boyfriend lounging on the couch, watching Netflix and sharing YouTube videos on their cell phones.  I was raised to never ask a guest to help with housework and it gets really hard to do much with a guest in my house almost every day!  With thinking getting ready for Thanksgiving being hard.... Christmas is even harder!!

Yep, my favorite holiday is circling the drain.  I get zero help for Christmas AND I have limitations to boot!  Back, when Christmas gift giving was the way I grew up with... everyone got a gift.  It did not matter what it was, but the feeling that someone took the time to think of you and what you like as a gift is what I can only describe as heart-warming.  I am not a materialistic person.  I do not need the newest gadget or the most expensive trinket to feel loved.  What matters to me is the thought... the effort.  With the way life is.... we tend to take for granted our feelings for one another.  We lack the ability to want to spend time together.  What my Christmas season consists is a budget and virtually no gift exchange.  When the economy crashed and things got tough for DH and I, we stopped exchanging gifts to one another and only focused on family.  Which, in turn, our families decided to only give gifts to the kids and there was an age limit on that (after you turn 18... you are now in the adult pool and no more Christmas gifts from family).  We are now down to only one child to buy for and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that the wonderment of Christmas is dying.  Then, lets add the zero assistance in the decoration department.  DH used to decorate outside, but after 3 years in a row of teenage vandalism to our outdoor decorations.... DH no longer pulls out the decorations or hangs lights on the house.  All that is left is the indoor decorations and nobody is willing to volunteer their help, let alone enjoy the effort I put in to put this stuff up.  My knees are not built to visit the crawlspace anymore and with our new 3 year old German Shepherd, Mikita, getting acclimated to his new home.... I just do not have the energy to guard a Christmas tree that will take over his favorite spot in the house.  That, and the fact that anything round is considered a "ball" and must be played with will be the death of me.  Of course, in my mind..... what good is a Christmas tree if there are no gifts underneath it?

This year, I think that the holidays are going to lack even more of the traditions luster.  I will go buy my niece her gift, wrap it, and call it a day.  I might find something small for DD so she does not feel the sting of no Christmas gifts.  DH was furious with me for the gift I got him when I tried to rejuvenate the wonderment of Christmas a few years back and I am not going to try again.  Knowing that he does not Christmas shop... I am certain that there will be nothing for me, either.  I am downsizing the Christmas tree to one that will sit on my dining room table that has battery operated lights and no ornaments and leaving all my other decorations in the crawlspace.  Holiday meals will be no different than an ordinary day and maybe I can get my family to at least go to church with me on Christmas.  I might try to bake, but why bother?  It just doesn't feel like the holidays anymore.  I am just so sorry that the years of traditions are going to die on my watch.....