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I'm wondering how much of my life would have been different if 'fear' and 'guilt' had been on the list of Seven Deadly Sins or Ten Commandments. This morning I had the urge to act on impulse but stopped out of 'fear' of 'feeling guilty' later. Sure, social mores are necessary; they are what stop us from driving head on into traffic or smacking people in public. But what exactly would I do or have done if I wasn't always concerned with 'regretting it later'.
As this is Fat Secret I'll go ahead and do the 'reveal now' of the point where this connects to All Things Food. How many times do I consider eating 'this' or binge eating 'that' but refrain because of 'fear' at losing control followed by guilt. Guilt of letting myself down. Failing again. Guilt & fear. Fear & Guilt. And vice versa how many times have I stuffed my emotions with food to refrain from saying the thing I want to say or avoid feeling the thing I don't want to feel? When will the 'do the right thing because it's the right thing to do' replace those emotions?
Taking me on this path of reflection was an overwhelming urge this morning to take the weed-whacker to my entire yard. Yes, my beautiful back yard of plants and flowers. I just wanted to obliterate it to nothing more than dirt. Something akin to the rose garden scene in Mommy Dearest.
As I've mentioned lightly but then glossed over with pages of amusing graphics in my recent journals, I am struggling with grief. Big time struggling.
This morning I was thinking 'he was right' when Cutty advised me to sell everything and move away after he passed. I would joke 'you know me, I never walk away from equity' and I know better than to make any serious decisions like that right now but lately... the memories are getting to me. The reminders. This corner, that drawer, this wall, that chair.
I'm doing my best to not 'eat' my emotions or fill that emptiness with Ice Cream but for every action there is a reaction and as I stared at the yard this morning I wanted to rip it apart.
Guilt. I started the yard for Cutty ~ at a time he could not do it himself. He loved the flowers and view from the window. Me? Not so much. I mean, I liked flowers but I was more of a 'fresh cut' kind of gal who didn't really like getting dirt under her nails. The patio was for sipping coffee beneath a shady umbrella. Getting down on my hands and knees and digging in the dirt? Thank you, no. It'll wreck my manicure.
See, our yard.. oops, there I go .. I still say 'we, us, our' ... THE yard is ... a facade. My home is in the city. The yard is 99% run off dirt from rooftops on top of no longer traveled city sidewalks. Truly, you dig six inches down and you'll hit cement and bricks. I've also found some interesting old artifacts.
Cutty wanted me to grow lawn. I did. Over the past two years I'd haul in a few bags of soil at a time and built a lawn on cement. Last summer he asked if I thought I could grow grass around the air conditioner. Challenge accepted.
But He never saw it. His health worsened as the seeds took root. I stare at that lawn and fight... anger, resentment, emotions, all reactions that lead to me wanting to just hack it all away.
I also recognize how I converted that 'mission' of making him a beautiful view into my own refuge. I'd run outside to escape him and his ever increasing angry rant at death. My morning time outside grew longer as I increased the volume of gardening to be maintained. My 'chicken and the egg' kept me out almost all day on Sunday. Rather than admitting 'anything besides inside being yelled at'.
This was the emotion behind imagining the destruction this morning. Guilt. Over letting this yard rob me of spending time with him. Perhaps it gave me the sanity to return inside and stay with him, keep him here with me at home, through to the end. I am great at seeing both sides of a coin as I toss it in the air to decide my fate.
I'm really not sure of the point behind any of this beyond it's my journal and these are thoughts and emotions swirling around me lately. This is what's going on behind the silly photos and jokes - deflection - a way of making myself smile and laugh and hoping to share that with my friends rather than 'this'.
A Dear Kind friend here reminded me yesterday in a PM that my grieving is still recognizable and acceptable.
Even then I felt like a facade. My Dear Kind friend stated they were amazed how well I've been doing in the diet department with what I've been through ~ I feel like I'm failing. I'm 10-15lbs 'heavier' than I was a year ago and I'm fearing I've lost it and am guilty that I've regained weight.
I'm hitting the two year mark in less than a week. August 25th ... the terrible twos set in. The period for me that has always been the most challenging. Generally I lose my mojo at 18 months ... and by 24mo's I'm like 'forget it.. bring on the M&M's'.
I want to get this one right because it's the right thing to do; not because of fear of regaining or guilt over having people look at me ONE more TIME and ask 'what happened... you were doing so well'. I want to take a weed whacker to my whole WOE and just redo it for the right reasons. I want that PEACE with myself I've been seeking ever since setting my 'diet' to that header.
I want ... to improve. I didn't whack down the yard. I know winter will take care of that soon enough. I am just going to breathe, eat wisely because it's the right thing to do, and let the season's take care of me.
If you read all this, bless you.
Bella
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86.2 kg
Lost so far: 43.1 kg.
Still to go: 4.5 kg.
Diet followed: Reasonably Well.
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steady weight
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