First Real Signs of Strength = Small Wins

I do not know where it came from, but it’s very welcome.

I think it started with Maggie’s idea to get dressed in workout clothes first thing. And then just one small thing (I charged my Fitbit). Piled on top of Ann’s suggestion to read the book about Habits.

I have a whole day, every day to myself. I could be filling it with many things, but I don’t. The worst usurper of my time is digital. The TV is now relegated to post 6pm only. I’ve had small, barely noticeable tinges of regret for wasting this much time. The feeling is fleeting. The heaviness of emptiness is pervasive. I still feel dark and empty on the inside.

But there is a very small, yet immensely strong soul inside me that refuses to give up. Yea, she’s the same one who never gave up on Tony, too so she’s delusional but when put to good use she is mighty.

I noticed on the first day I convinced myself to exercise it was because I talked myself into sleeping the rest of the day away. I didn’t do that, but the self-talk convinced me I could, should I want to. Based on that inkling of promise, I reframed the amount of time I have to myself and I was able to make some positive steps forward.

Go to bed by 10pm, period. Get up 7:30am consistently to get the kid off to school. Get dressed in workout gear before leaving bedroom (put it out night before so no excuses). Wear the Fitbit (no monitoring steps yet) Then, come home and enjoy a quiet morning scrolling media or reading with my coffee. Finally, Peloton workout. 30 mins is the requirement.

If I can change this one thing, getting dressed and then committing to some exercise for 30 minutes daily, I will not require myself to do more during that day unless necessary.

Nice deal I made with myself, right?

I can do this well before 11am. And, so far when I do, I see the energy to do other important tasks such as work related or finance related items. I won’t force myself to do more, I just seem to be more restless doing nothing after the workout. It’s a bit harder to sit still when I created good energy.

I also know the absolute best way to manage my food intake and stick to my keto macros is to log my food. I have been doing this on and off since surgery but I’m paying more attention now. I have an app that I can scan the UPC code and it makes it super easy to keep track. I’ve also knocked almost all my sugar cravings and have found the right kind of food substitutes. It helps that I don’t go out drinking and eating as often as well!

I realize this isn’t a big commitment. But it’s a start to getting my head screwed back onto my shoulders. I’ve been off the rails for close to a year. By the end of April last year I began to lose the will to live, so time slipped right through my fingers. I don’t think I will be remembering my 51st year with any fondness.

I’ve learned to avoid making morning commitments so I can adhere to my small routine. I still overwhelm easily which is worrisome considering how much I’ve been able to shoulder in the past. I still feel like part of my mind (as well as my soul) is broken and disconnected.

My small win this week has been rewarding. Every day I remind myself I’m doing this for me. I had surgery and lost a ton of weight, no reason I can’t tone up and be strong also. I want to be strong again. So while I’m fragile emotionally, the least I can do for myself is begin to make my body stronger. I’ve misused my body, mind and soul this past year but only I can recover what I’ve given away.

By the time this posts, I will have completed and entire week of routine. Good eating, good sleeping and exercise. Other than pure physical recovery (which was no small feat based on my surgeries) this is the most I’ve accomplished since surgery. I am happy it’s a start.

I’ll take it.

Finding My Way Out of the Dark

Most days are still painstakingly absent of light for me. Even when I find my moments of activity or happiness, I actively look for the next down period. I’ve been reading self-help like a fiend, trying to find alternatives to pull myself out of this pit I’m in, but I cannot find the strength. I know one of the keys is going to be routine and getting back into an established routine, but I break routine as fast as I make them.

I have to talk myself out of bed each morning to drive my youngest to school. Most days I succeed. I get up, brush teeth and hair, cover up (not always getting out of PJs) put on the coffee and empty the dishwasher. Get the boy to school. Some days I even get a bra on. This week I resolved I would set the alarm for earlier than I need to get up so that I made sure I also got dressed.

I can go days without taking a shower, and a week without washing hair. Since I don’t move or do much, it’s not hard to forget I should do it. It’s fallen out of my routine. I don’t shower for myself, I shower if I need to be presentable.

I don’t truly understand how I have motivated myself in the past to move forward from difficulty. Either I thought or believed there was something better on the horizon, or felt I had no alternative but acceptance.

I do not have either of those two feelings right now.

This morning I woke about an hour early and started to obsess over Tony. I tried mind control “if you keep thinking about this, you should get up and exercise instead!” I cannot even actively control my obsessive thoughts.

Strangely enough, I don’t generally nap. But, if I could, I sleep a straight 10-12 hours before feeling actually rested. Is it possible anyone really needs this much sleep?

I’m a seesaw. One moment moving up and feeling the air on my face and a (very small) burst of positivity or energy, and the next moment not just coming down but literally crashing into the ground hard. As if the weight of the world is on my shoulders and I cannot lift, or even try to lift.

My son had his pull up bar out the other night and I jokingly gave it a shot. The way I feel each day is similar to approaching and attempting that pull up bar – I raise my arms, pull myself up, and I am dead weight. No strength, no movement, just nothing.  I literally could not even try, my weight was just too much, my muscles evaporated.

I have seen other people motivate themselves forward and I understand the concept of changing a small, yet important, thing to add up to bigger changes – but I don’t do it.

If there was such a thing as manic-depressive by the hour, I feel like that’s me.

Denial

You know when you get little glimpses of awareness that you’ve hit on an idea but can’t quite uncover it? I noticed this has been happening more often for me as I seem to be coming up from complete apathy to less apathy. The smoke clears for a moment, I have a thought, and I try to pursue that thought in the hopes of some personal enlightenment. In the wake of Tony-textacle, something struck me the other day – unrelated to Tony’s infidelity in his marriage – but my x’s behavior in ours. Then I recalled this same thought occurred to me post Bobby.

Strangely enough, I know more about Bobby’s post D-day than Tony’s. I didn’t even realize Tony and Kelly had a D-day in July until last week. Bobby told me everything about his recovery plan post D-day, until he hit the point in recovery that he needed to acknowledge I couldn’t be a part of his life. Tony lied to me for the past 7 months, maybe in an effort to “keep the enemy closer?” Who knows. When I realized Tony had been creating even more lies within his marriage, a little thought bubble popped up to say “do you recall saying he was more like your x than you wanted to admit?” And I got a physical sensation of being ill. It was as if my mind had buried that reminder so deeply that it created a physical sensation as it was dug up again.

Tony did, in his marriage, exactly what my x did to me upon discovery: lied more and denied what actually happened. The next stop on this this reality train is believing that Tony was also lying to me (haven’t fully accepted that yet).  I also repeat: does it even matter?  Nope, not really.   Not my marriage.

I read an article about Hiding in Denial and the flashbacks were not pleasant. When I uncovered my x’s infidelity he turned the entire situation around on me and my need for control. He wasn’t going to give up a female friend. He wasn’t going to allow me to monitor him. He may have crossed a little line, but he was in control and would manage the situation on his own. If he gave up his female friend that meant there was admitting to guilt and he wasn’t guilty. The article went on to describe that until someone admits they have a problem, no changes in outcome would be expected.

“Albert Einstein said, “No problem can be solved by the same consciousness that created it.” Until I can change how I see the problem (and the problem is me, what I’ve done, and what I’m capable of) I will never be safe for my partner. Until I can accept the reality of my own defects of character I’ll never get where I’m going. If the right help is attained, we can find hope as well as a plan to find movement and clarity for both spouses.”

So, while I initially started thinking about Tony, it led me backwards to my own situation with the x, and then further into understanding myself. I have been programmed to accept liars into my life. This has become my defect of character and I allow it to continue by actively looking the other way.  Consistently burying my cues.  I keep accepting a “less-than-I-deserve” behavior in hopes that the other person will change.

Of course, they never do.  And I have become thoroughly practiced in being obstinate about forcing a change, obsessed with their change, instead of gracefully getting up and walking away from their behavior.  I allow some else’ bad behaviors to validate my own bad behavior.

I don’t stop.

With Tony I got the behavior I was seeking from my x. At some point Tony admitted his shame and his ownership for creating the mess we were all in. This was very close to the time he spoke to his wife. I believe that, up until that point, he was as authentic as he could be. He was horrified with himself and his actions and for the further mess he would be creating. I never got that from my x. Not even close. Never even an apology until years later – and it was one of those “I’m sorry if my actions hurt you but I never really cheated” kind of back handed apologies. I think that period of Tony being so genuine is what kept me holding on even longer, he couldn’t be that honest in his marriage so there was hope for us yet (idealized thinking). It wasn’t until his wife told me he was calling me a liar that the truth of it all struck me – he went right back to denial as it was a much more comfortable place to be.  But I shouldn’t have gone with him.  I should not have been around for his mistakes and lies to his family.

I have been holding on to my own denial. The thought that hope exists where it had, in fact, been extinguished 2 years ago in April ’17 when Tony chose to stay in his marriage. I am very good at this since I had a 22 year marriage where I was hopeful for around 18 of those years because I was gaslighted and weak. I keep allowing others, men in particular, to control my life. First my father, then a husband and then two affairs. If I don’t stop trying to control and manage my pain instead of acknowledging and accepting it, to really understand it, I am never going to break this cycle.

(You can go back to re-read the article Ann sent me here, and start to see how that played into what I had already started to think about my habits)

I actually believe that things do happen for a reason. I started to uncover these old perceptions of myself back in this post, and slowly other markers (such as Ann sending me the article) showed up along the way to highlight that I was on the right path to my own little self discovery.

While it may have been the worst way possible to uncover my own truths, sending Tony’s wife the information helped to uncover something I had buried and continue to recreate. I know it will always be viewed as malicious, that I would hurt someone who never hurt me and I understand that point of view. But somewhere in this narrative I needed Tony to accept the truth, my truth I guess, and this felt like the only way I could achieve it. What happens next in his life is his. His anger at me is because of discovery, because I upended that perfect scenario of life he worked so hard to create.  I’m sure some it it is because I hurt Kelly, but the bigger part of it for Tony is because he is uncovered as a serial cheater and liar and loses his prized possession: his outward face as a good and honorable man.  I have to own what I did, it was wrong and I haven’t yet learned how to control this terrible, horrible piece of me that wants others to hurt when I hurt.

Stick with me as I dig deeper, I appreciate all of your insight.

 

Exhaustion (originally published 1/14/19)

*Originally Published 1/14 and disappeared (sorry for the repost)

I had my first period since around Dec 5th. I should have predicted the outcome post menses: total and utter exhaustion. It is exactly the time my iron has naturally depleted (5 month mark) post the blood clot episode in 2015. It’s been 3 years now that I am dealing with this anemia and I hate it.

I made the appointment for the blood test and sure enough my iron is dropping, but not yet low enough for insurance to cover and expensive infusion. I hate this part. I have to wait through another period and about a month before my iron drops low enough to cover the infusion. This basically means I am sick and tired for the next 6-8 weeks.

I have begged the doctors in the past to be more aggressive in treating it, but they say they can’t approve the treatment until a certain point. After 3 years of examples, being pretty much like clockwork….I don’t see why they can’t be proactive with the infusion instead of waiting until I literally cannot get out of bed for days on end.

So most of December into January found me lying in bed, sleeping days away.  I can find energy to get my son up and off to school, and occasionally do required errands. Maybe even one night out with family or friends.  But then, sleep again for days.

Finally went  for a second blood test and, as predicted, I am now anemic.  Waiting for the doctor to get the approval for the iron transfusion.  It irks me they can’t get back to me more quickly.  I called and the nurses empathize but say the doctor is jam packed.

In addition, prior to my surgeries my gynecological options were hysterectomy, ablation or IUD – none of which I wanted.  I should have gotten the IUD when I had the chance!  I was too afraid of the estrogen because the hormone is what caused blood lots in 2015, the ablation seemed like a better choice until I did research that said it could put you into early menopause, and I just didn’t want surgery for a hysterectomy (to explain that: I didn’t want surgery that was going to decrease my libido and increase my depression, less so about the actual surgery itself – though in hindsight the chances are over 75% I would have ended up with similar internal bowel issue that I have now due to all my adhesions).  Now, I have zero gynecological options because of all the issues I just experienced.

This means, I live with chronic anemia and iron infusions until my period stops.  The, hopefully, the anemia disappears naturally.  But it’s still a shot in the dark.

I now feel like my life is passing me by and I can’t seem to grasp hold of it.  I am getting very, very worried about money because I have none.  We have depleted all of our excess the past 4 months and credit card debt.  I was really hoping to not have to tap into my savings, but that will have to be the next step.

I’m hoping my mental and physical states pick up soon, because I feel pretty useless at the moment.

Keeping Trixie Silent

I know all the right things to do. I know not to contact Tony’s wife. Some days the right reasons don’t matter and that’s the part I strive to understand about myself.

My therapist basically said “let go and let God.” “Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.”

I did read everyone’s comments and digest them. Thank you. I just didn’t have any energy to address each one. When you know you want to do something wrong, it’s hard to listen to people who care about you telling you to behave differently.

Why do I have to hurt him? It doesn’t even make sense to me. Isn’t it bad enough I’m in such pain? Why hurt another family?

I suppose what struck me this time was the fact that I don’t know what Pandora’s box I am opening by telling her. She could be as nuts as Trixie for all I really know. Or, even if she’s not, maybe one of her friends are. I may experience the release of anger temporarily, but I could end up doing even more damage to myself and I’m not well enough to manage any more damage. I heard that from you loud and clear.

But the feeling of wanting to out him is strong.

So strong I reached out to him instead. Which is just as bad. He hasn’t answered me so now I’m obsessing. The trick is not to fall back into compulsion to force him into communication with me. He is doing the right thing for both of us. Something I can’t seem to do.

My head is still not screwed on. For any step forward I fall back, way back. I feel lifeless and empty. Trying to fill this void is overwhelming.

I know this comes down to simple math: he gave me something I never had and I can’t see past that. But I know there is no choice than to move forward and put him behind me.

I don’t even mention this to my support system anymore because I’m so embarrassed. I can’t afford the therapist as I’ve been out of work too long.

I’m just worried I’m sliding too far back. I’m worried it all feels like to much for me again.

Mexico Update

If anyone lives in Utah or Arizona there is going to be a live news cast on the infection I came home from Mexico with: Pseudomonas aeruginosa

You can also google:

CDC Tijuana Superbug

Grandview Hospital Mexico

Pseudomonas aeruginosa Grandview Hospital

And you will see I was one of the first to come home with, but not the last to be taken down by this superbug.

https://www.cdc.gov/hai/outbreaks/pseudomonas-aeruginosa.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/health-science/they-went-to-mexico-for-surgery-they-came-back-with-a-deadly-superbug/2019/01/23/ac0ca280-1dcb-11e9-9145-3f74070bbdb9_story.html?utm_term=.048b6ed8902a

I know the people in the articles and interviews and their surgeries were post mine and we have been consistently shut down from allowing to post in the support group for patients. So one of the ladies went public.

It’s sure to be bigger news soon.

Adoption

How do I really feel about adoption?

Other than exploring alternative feelings in therapy, I would always say I am very positive about adoption.   I do not truly understand the stigma people feel related to adoption.

I was adopted the day after I was born, because my mother desperately wanted a child. She told me that she wouldn’t have stayed married to my father had they not gotten the call for me so many years ago.  Her family was thrilled for her because she was the beloved only-child in a large family of cousins.  I never felt anything less than wanted growing up, and never, to this day, question who my parents are.  I even get a bit annoyed when people call them my  “adoptive parents.”   There is no need to label my parents other than parents, they raised me, loved me, cared for me and provided for me my entire life. My birthparents need a distinguishing label because they created me, but did not nurture or parent me.   I literally gag when people refer to my birthparents as “your real parents.’  My real parents are the ones who raised me, no one else is more real to me than my parents.

I do get angry when people feel the need to distinguish the people who raised me with any moniker other than parent.

The back story of my adoption is very interesting, but much too long to share (literally deserves a book) so I will provide and edited version:  Hank and Judy met in High School and were from different sides of the tracks, so to speak.  Hank came from a wealthy and social family and Judy from a less-affluent family.   Hank went off to college and during his first  Christmas break, had sex with Judy.  She got pregnant.  I never asked him if they were having regular sex or not – I will have to ask him more details.  It never really crossed my mind.

Just recently, I came across a family photo on Facebook of Judy around April 1967 – which means she was pregnant with me!  The caption under reads “Family photo for Mothers Day 1967” a little bit of irony there, eh?  The family was embarrassed she was pregnant out of wedlock and sent her away to live with an Aunt until she had the baby.  She doesn’t recall much of my birth, because women were fully sedated in 1967, and won’t speak to me about the pregnancy.  I don’t know how depressed she was, or if it was a healthy pregnancy.  I know from our first conversation that I was a full secret to her family, and her parents did not want her to acknowledge me when I finally found her in 1996.  I know she has real issues acknowledging me in general, but every once in a while her curiosity gets the better of her and she will reach out to me with a note on Facebook (though she will not friend me).

When I first found her, I was angry that she wouldn’t acknowledge me.  I was trying to get pregnant and wanted my medical history.  Because of this, I then pursued my birthfather.  Finding Hank was en entirely different story.

Hank and his wife, Debbie, immediately welcomed me into their hearts and home.  Hank and Debbie also had my beloved sister, whom I believe is the real reason all this fell into place at all.  My little sister, Kiki, and I have developed a wonderful relationship over the years and I adore her.  She just got engaged and I will be her maid-of-honor, even though I am 20 years older!  Finding Hank’s family showed me how nature is just as important as nurture.  Anyone who knows me and knows Hank would agree.  I am his child through and through.  I keep close contact with this family to this day, and my children call him Poppa Hank.

Once I found my birthparents the years have provided a more complete idea of my genetics, and maybe there was something in me that was silenced.  Perhaps the intense curiosity of knowing who I was?  Of why I did the things I did, or thought the way I thought?  I don’t recall how I felt at the time I found them except satisfied.  I was unlike my parents in most ways and everyone would always say “where did you come from!” because my mother was so gentle and I was not.  I was a busy, hyperactive, curious child – that was too much of a handful for my parents.  Looking back, I realize my mother carried the full burden of parenting, my father rarely participated in parenting unless it was to hit me for discipline.  In any case, I don’t think I ever felt resentment towards my birthparents for giving me up for adoption because my life was really good.  If my birthparents had kept me, I would have been a child of a single, unhappy mother.  God chose a better path for me placing me into my mothers loving arms.

That’s pretty much my adoption story.  In therapy we are exploring a few topics related to adoption.   The idea that I wasn’t wanted/loved in utero (this one bothers me quite a deal) and the idea that I was abandoned by my birth parents.  Honestly, I prefer to exclude these ideas in favor of the way I was actually parented, and how that affected my behaviors.  While I still struggle with acknowledging anything about my parents parenting style (because my mother is not alive and my father is 82 – whats the point) I do see value in understanding and exploring my inner child and the lengths she went to in order to be seen, heard and loved – and how my needs as a child were not met with my parents parenting style and how that developed into bad coping mechanisms for me.

I am in the process of reading a book on how to re-parent your inner child, and I can’t say I love it.   While I believe in the theory, the exercises feel just plain stupid to me.  Drawing with your left hand (or non dominant hand) your inner child has more of an ability to speak to you.  I can’t draw a straight line with my dominant hand so this exercise feels simply ridiculous to me.  I have tried a few times now and I give up – this type of creative therapy doesn’t resonate for me.  I will have to speak to the therapist today about that as she feels its significant that I can’t do the art therapy.

In my next few posts I plan to explore what I have rediscovered about my childhood.  The memories I prefer to suppress in favor of the really good, positive and nurturing memories.  I don’t know how much posting I will get to this week as I actually have to go back into the city a couple days…which is already causing me great anxiety.

 

Inner Child

Hello Madeline, meet Trixie.

Oh, you know each other already?

Hmmmm….

So work with my therapist has begun on my inner child. Basically, learning how to like and accept that young wounded girl and then learning how to re-parent her.

Truthfully, I don’t know how I feel about this work. I don’t like going back to revisit difficult things and I am a champion at forgetting bad things – also known as my stellar behavior to crucify myself on a daily basis.

A friend said to me: what you have been doing and how you have been doing it isn’t working, why not try another way? Open your mind and listen.

Because this is my nearest and dearest friend whom I trust the most, I agreed to try something different. This also includes a therapist who is also non-secular. I promised, while begging for life in Mexico, that I would try and turn to God. More on this piece to come at a later time.

This post is simply to introduce the idea of my inner child and how she will help me learn why my behaviors, especially my bad behaviors, have become my ultimate coping mechanism.

We spent a little time talking about my childhood and my parents. If you asked me, I would say I had a very good, and happy, childhood. That’s only partly true. I was a very dissatisfied child, worse so when my younger brother came on the scene almost 6 years later. I actually no longer dwelt on the cards I was dealt as a child, I thought – and still think, to some degree – going back to explore these issues doesn’t hold and value on how I choose to live today. I am aware of the things I was uncomfortable with in childhood, but prefer not to dwell. Further, I’ve been taught that it just sounds like privilege complaining. People had it way worse than me in their lives, my parents tried their best, my mother is no longer alive, and my father is nearly 82. What’s the point of reliving painful memories that can stir up old feelings of anger and sadness (amongst many other feelings) when I have moved past all of that?

Or, have I?

I am willing to explore it and think about it. Try to learn what I don’t love about myself that I allow so many others to determine my self-worth. And then learn how to love and accept all of me, so that I may share myself fully with others.

I will start with my adoption. I may have told the story in a past blog somewhere, but I’m going to write again. I will walk through some childhood memories and try to think about why my inner child is so unhappy and feels so unwanted. I think I have many answers already but I want to do the work in writing.

I feel a need to apologize to my mother in heaven before I start this work:

Momma, I love you more than anything and I’m sorry I was never the daughter you needed, but I loved you fully and know you would be so proud of the woman I’ve become. I know you won’t like this….I need to explore what’s making me so unhappy in my womanhood that must be stemming from my childhood. I no longer blame anyone, it’s only a process of realization. I know you didn’t like so many things I’ve done in my life that must have felt like direct attacks on your parenting, but you always, ultimately, supported me in the end. We were always uncomfortable together, you and I. It was never a fully harmonious relationship. We always questioned one another. I wish I understood you sooner so you could have felt more love from me than you did, but believe me, it was always there. You have, and always will be, my first love and number one. Please support this hard work I have to do. I don’t want to remember things that hurt because you are not here with me anymore and I feel it’s unfair, but I believe it can help. Please continue to stay by my side throughout. I love you.

Clean-ish Bill of Health

4 surgeries and 3 months of brainless-ness later, here I sit pondering the meaning of my life.

Since I don’t have any insight or answers, lets talk about my health.

I really liked my US surgeon, he is a good man and a great surgeon and always spoke to me with kindness, empathy and in a way I could understand what was happening with my body and why he was making the decisions he made.  He also saved my life, so there’s that.  Oh, did I mention he’s also super cute like in a Hospital Drama kind of way?

My last weight recorded in the US was 218 pounds.  I am 5’8″  That’s not my heaviest weight, but it was my weight as of April of this year (Fuck you April, just sayin’).  Todays weight was 167 with clothes on.  Almost exactly 3 months post VSG (Vertical sleeve gastrectomy) and he was super happy with the sleeve itself and my progress.  That’s 51 pounds gone forever.   Honestly, I was worried I didn’t lose any weight this month and he said that’s fine considering the wound, but I need to continue to work towards my goal weight.

How does it feel to be (sort-of) instantly thin – pretty fucking amazing if you ask me.  Would I do it again?  The surgery?  Maybe, but here in the US.  Maybe the same thing would have happened, even here.  No one knows.  I was a risky candidate to begin with.  I don’t know what choices I would make if I wasn’t in such a dark place.  But, since I did do VSG in Mexico, and I did lose 51 pounds, I DO feel pretty amazing!

That is, until I get undressed.  It’s really unattractive and I am going to have serious issues with getting undressed.  At the moment, I would pretty much eliminate any casual sex – I couldn’t manage my own anxiety about what they think.

So, that puts the weight loss in a very strange place.  I cleaned my closet and attic and have enough clothes to get through the winter.  I still had my “goal” clothes from my weight loss challenge with Bobby – clothes I never fit into as I don’t think I ever dropped under 180-185 pounds.  And they would have been a bit tight then, even.  I feel good in clothes, I look great.

Luckily, I don’t have the hair loss that many experience and my hair looks gorgeous as it’s longer than ever.

My boobs fell,  but due to a breast reduction when I was about 24, they still face forward! They fit back into my smaller bras, but I can see losing more weight from them unfortunately.  My band is back to a solid 36 from a 40.  I was a 36-26-38 at my lowest weight now 120 pounds at age 24-30.

My ass is gone and flat!  Yikes! Less worried about the ass and legs as they will be the first to come back IF I exercise.  At the moment the skin literally hangs around the bones and it looks old and yucky.  I need to fix that.

My underarms are officially chicken wings.  I downloaded some exercises for them.  I have more creases at the upper arm/armpit due to loose skin.

My son mentioned my neck looks older and he’s right.  I lost quite a bit in my neck and have to get my everyday necklace shortened as it now hangs too low.  Speaking of jewelry, all my rings are now loose and swim on my fingers.

And…..I did email Peloton to restart my subscription today….so that counts as a CHECK!

Weight loss after trauma is just weird.  It’s like I woke up and it was gone.  A lot of that has to do with all the surgeries post the VSG – so I almost forget about the VSG as it was simple compared to what followed and the trauma I endured.

I also can’t decide if I am going to tell or not?  I have told many people, but not all people.  Would I have told if I just lost weight and no trauma?  I don’t know.  People are so judgey.  There is NOTHING easy about weight-loss surgery.  It’s not an easy way out of anything.

I joked with the surgeon today about how I traded one beauty for another.  I look good when I’m dressed up, but underneath the wrappings, nothing is what it seems.  I asked him how many lives he’s saved where people come in worried about their vanity months later and he realized I was making fun of myself.  I suppose I need to be in good humor considering I had a death wish.

I sit and wonder how a man like Tony would view my scars….and how my future men will view them.  Its going to be very, very difficult to embrace certain positions, that’s for sure.

I’ve got a clean bill of health from the surgeon, excluding the possibility of a hernia in the next year.  I will take it.

Therapy is another story entirely.

I’m still working on the therapy part and I do my homework, sometimes.  I liked the relationship book she directed me to and I feel I have completed as much of the work in there as I can up til today.  Next is embracing my inner childs voice.  I do worry about continuing therapy in the New Year.  I will have to start a $6000/year deductible again with no job.  I will have to decrease the frequency of the visits if I continue to not work, and that worries me a bit.  I also need to get my kids in to her over Christmas Break.

My body is ready to get back to the work of living, now I just have to convince my mind.

Intuition

We have spoken about intuition so many times on our blogs. Women have especially keen intuition when they learn how to listen to it. Mine has certainly taught me much over the years.

We also know I actively ignore it.

It wasn’t intuition telling me not to date Tony, that was simple, straightforward facts I ignored. The intuition came into play during our relationship when I heard what I wanted to hear and didn’t allow my intuition to pick up on mild cues.

For instance, he was always actively worried about being caught post April 2017 when he spoke to his wife. That hadn’t happened in the first year. Then there were so many other cues I just didn’t pick up on as he grew tired with his situation and deceit. It was too hard on him to continue his lie and maintain the facade of “great guy all around.” That title really meant something to him. He spoke many times about his father would be disappointed in the way he handled his marital problems. Tony needed to be “the good guy” as he perceived his Dad. He needs the intact family and perception. There is value in that for him.  I feel more disappointed for him that he will always be “somewhat” happy.

The reason I am rehashing is because I wonder where my intuitive voice is now regarding Tony. It’s silent. Maybe it still believes he could be the one for me. But my brain and heart have stopped allowing it. We have accepted defeat and acknowledged its over. But I do wonder why intuition is silent on that front.  I know I am going to hear from him again.  I also know I don’t have to.  I can’t read any signs of why I still harbor any hope of any kind of relationship.

My intuition with Rob was right from the start. He likes me but he’s just not that into me. He’s not ready for me. That’s going to be ok. His communication style is so far off my own and I don’t like working that hard. I waited until today to send a text “Hey, Stranger” and got back a little bit “busy, busy, work, life etc” but otherwise, nothing meaningful.    I also get the feeling he wants me to have more on my mind….he has referred to me getting back to work more than once!

I’ve met another man online and his communication started up well immediately. Easy back and forth questions. When someone is really interested they always ask about your kids and your friends. We will see how this proceeds.  Some people are just easier to talk with I suppose.

My intuition is telling me to go slow now. I’m ok with that too.

But she’s very quiet on the job front. I have a very deep feeling things are going to net out for me because I will eventually work towards making it right again, I just can’t seem to get there yet.  I do have to force myself to focus on something (even one thing) job related every single day for the weeks leading up to January.

My intuition on my kids….well the good news is the middle child and I work well at home together. But he also falters the most when I’m not here being Mom. It makes me sad to think this child needed a mother at home more than the others and I didn’t provide that. It really hurts. I do try to do more for them that costs me nothing: breakfasts, dinners, special little treats. Mostly food. They are teenage boys.

I don’t have an excuse.  I went to the surgeon today and they cauterised my wound closed and I can go without bandages if I am comfortable.  I will always have a small pool (dip) in my belly and my bellybutton is always going to be off to the side of the scar.  They can slightly improve the appearance next year with plastics, but the damage will always remain extensive.  The good news is that (one) I am alive and (two) my surgeon is very pleased with my progress weight wise.  He released me back into “normal” life today – shower without bandages, exercise, eat well, work and play normal – don’t come see him for 6 months unless something (Like a hernia) comes up.  Ok, I was expecting all that.

Overall, I’m more determined to listen to my intuition and slow down. I also read this amazing letter written by Angela Ahrendts  written to her daughters and it includes advice about intuition.  I worked under her many years ago and wished I stayed closer – she is now and SVP of Apple.  I found this letter to be very inspiring and spot on.

Here’s her letter:

“Hopefully you won’t read anything in this letter that you haven’t already heard from me many times before. I’ve always tried to lead by example when we are together, so I will do the same in this letter by reminding you of a few thoughts that will help you navigate your incredible life journey ahead: Always be present, read the signs, stay in your lane and never back up more than you have to.

I have always tried to be present for you regardless of how old you were, where we were, or where I was. I wanted you to know that I am always there for you spiritually, emotionally and digitally. You never need feel isolated or alone. You know I am on 24/7 for advice, love, or just to share a funny filtered photo, bitmoji or laugh (even though I know I laugh inside). Being fully present, by listening, feeling, empathizing—always holding serious eye contact, and often the touch of a hand—builds trust. Trust builds confidence and confidence enables you to look forward, dream more and focus on others vs. yourself. Being present is the greatest gift you can give another person, and the greatest way to more closely connect with them. When you are present, you are living in the moment vs in your mind. You are seeing, hearing, and feeling another person, and together you are even more empowered to do great things. This is a gift that often comes more naturally to women.

I have also tried to share with you as many of life’s precious lessons and secrets as I can so that when I am not here, you have a solid foundation of learnings and values regardless of what potholes in life you may hit along the way. Stay open; always try to read the signs as you pass by them or they pass by you. I’ve often reminded you that there are no coincidences. Everything that happens in your life is for a reason or was predestined. Every book you receive, every new person you meet, everything you call lucky is a sign just waiting to be read. It is tough when you are young and so inward-focused, but once in a while you will look back, make the connection and then be more open to and curious about those signs in the future. You see, signs aren’t blatant or obvious. You have to be open and present to instinctively feel or intuitively see them. You’ve seen firsthand, and we have often discussed, the role signs have played in my life and the incredible things that have happened as a result of me listening and reacting to them. You are blessed as sensitive women to more naturally understand this.

You are fully aware of how blessed you are, the incredible gifts you were born with that your brother doesn’t have and the gifts he has that you don’t possess. You know how happy you feel when you are doing what you love and that comes so easily and naturally to you. So please, please, please connect to your passion, and then just stay in your lane. Great athletes, musicians, scientists, etc., all have an expertise that they focus on and perfect. Don’t let anyone persuade you to do anything that doesn’t feel natural or isn’t aligned with your values or God-given gifts. You know what excites you more than anyone else. The sooner you recognize your passions, and the more you focus, the happier you will be and the greater success you will achieve. Still, don’t worry if you don’t know exactly what your lane is yet. The path will illuminate itself so long as you stay present, open to the signs, and follow your passions. It’s all related.

Lastly, my loves, never back up more than you need to, and this means in life, not just when driving. Just as you are blind to what’s behind you while backing up a car, if you keep looking back in life and focusing too much on the past, you may find yourself running things over and over in your mind,often seeing or creating things that never existed in the first place. Even worse, living in reverse blinds you to what lies ahead: Your lifelong dreams waiting to be achieved, your destiny waiting to be fulfilled.”