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Hello, dears. There's water, lemon, black tea, violet butterfly pea tea, and peach tea, but no iced coffee.
Speaking of the coffee, once the cold brew sachets are gone, I'm going to try to make my own. I watched Ree Drummond make it on an episode of her program when she'd just started and it's not difficult. I've found the type of coffee used in the sachet is acidic. Very much so. One of John's friends told me that her father-in-law always added a pinch of baking soda or salt to his coffee every morning to cut the acidity. I shall have to do that. Warning though: if the coffee isn't overly acidic, this will render it nearly tasteless.
I continue to argue with the grammar/punctuation programs on the blog format. I kid you not there are times when one program insists something is utterly wrong with a sentence and when I change it to the suggested wording the other program proceeds to underline it all as an error. Other times I might use the word "buy", and the program only wants me to use 'purchase' but either word would be correct as used and doesn't change the meaning of the sentence in the least. At other times, if all the suggested corrections are made, the program doesn't care for its own sentence and proceeds to highlight it!
Now it's not just the grammar program. I've been arguing with the spelling program for years. There are words that I knew were words and the spelling program would say, "Is not!" I'd go look them up in a dictionary and there the word was plain as ink on the page.
The programs have helped me be less wordy and made me proofread thoroughly, but they are often very frustrating too.
I've had such a time lately with my self-image.
I simply could not reconcile myself to my body as it is at present. Not older, not more painful, but simply less comfortable. I made a medication slip-up that helped egg that feeling of being out of sorts into a bigger thing than it actually was. I discovered that for some unknown reason, I'd added a bunch of D3 tablets to my thyroid medication. And most days I was taking 2 D3 tablets and NO thyroid medicine at all. Every now and then I'd get a thyroid pill. It was an utterly foolish thing to have done and I've no idea how I came to make such a mistake nor do I understand why it took me so darned long (probably a month or more) to catch it.
It was mere chance that led to the discovery. I do recall saying to John how odd it was that my thyroid pills were larger than my previous prescription...No they weren't! It was D3s the whole while. I picked up prescriptions last weekend and had a thyroid pill refill in that lot of medication. That's when I discovered my foolish error on Monday. I was replenishing my pill box. I read the description page of what the pill looked like and the pharmaceutical numbers on the pill. There were no markings on the D3s. I had a bottle of D3 in the medicine box, so I got one of those, and sure enough, they were the same. Ugh!
Was I distracted by something or someone at the time? Did I think that because the pills were so dissimilar in size I'd know to take one of each? Whatever the reason, I was wrong and I hadn't been taking thyroid medication at all. However, starting Tuesday, I have been back on my medicine as prescribed and I'll stay on it thank you very much! All I've read about thyroid in the past week leads me to believe that this mistake is what has led me to feel so out of whack.
One of the things that has left me feeling so unsettled has been a great dissatisfaction with my weight. Let me explain a few things about that. I have never not been overweight. I was always healthy and active, but I was not thin. I followed a rather vicious pattern in childhood of dieting and then not being on a diet. It wasn't by my choice. My food and my food choices were controlled by my mother. If Mama dieted, she made me diet. If Mama decided to chuck it all in and cheat, then she'd fill me up, too. It was a very destructive co-dependent part of our relationship and it took me years to overcome the mess it made of my thinking.
As an adult, I developed a pattern of compulsively overeating and then purging. It was an even more destructive pattern than the one I'd experienced as a child and teen. Finally, at age 28, I decided that I would overcome that pattern and I did. I lost a little weight but I was still overweight. Active and healthy but still overweight. And that's where I was when I met John.
When John and I married, we had a limited budget, a large family, and a LOT of company who appeared at mealtimes. I stretched the meals with additional carbs like pasta, rice, and potatoes. We both gained weight during that period.
Eventually, I lost a bit of weight and then when we were a much smaller household, we decided to try Atkins and each lost an appreciable amount. I lost about 50 pounds during that time and I again settled in at a weight that while heavy, was at least a familiar size and one I felt I could be comfortable at. And then I had pulmonary embolisms and lost another 40 pounds following that. Still heavy, but I felt very comfortable at that new weight.
Until about a year ago when I gained roughly 10 pounds. My doctor felt with other symptoms I displayed that the cause of the weight gain was my thyroid. And perhaps he's right. But I had not counted on the head talk about my weight gain.
The whole vicious cycle of the past has been haunting me. I do NOT allow myself to eat compulsively. I do not binge or purge. I have learned how to handle the stress and unhappiness that caused me to want to self-soothe with food in the past. I know which foods I am most prone to binge eat and don't buy those items. But when I'm stressed or upset, I often still want to turn to food.
So I have avoided having certain foods that I knew would trigger me to overeat in the house. I've eaten a LOT of salads of late...I've been careful to avoid snacking for the sake of snacking and I balance my carb intake. If I have a soda, I get no other sweet that day. If I eat two cookies, or whatever the serving size is said to be, that's it, no more sweet treats for me that day.
And then the memories of how I was never enough began to replay. Mama always wanted me to be thinner, prettier, more popular, have curly hair, straighter teeth, and get straight A pluses because straight A's. I could never be enough. Mental health counselors couldn't treat my depression without saying, "If you'd lose weight, you wouldn't be so unhappy," and couldn't see past the fact of my weight to the depression that caused me to overeat or to the causes of the depression such as emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, and chose instead to see it as a direct result of my weight. Then there were the countless strangers who would walk up to me and boldly say to my face, 'You know you have a pretty face if only you'd lose weight..." "You have such lovely skin...It's a shame you're overweight."
That's been running through my head for the past two months. I, in and of myself, feel I am NOT enough. And I feel afraid. I fear that I will become out of control all over again.
That's the journey that an additional 10 pounds has taken me on. It's wreaked havoc with my self-esteem.
Anyway, we'll see if taking the thyroid medicine as prescribed helps make a difference along with some slight dietary adjustments and continued vigilance. Oh yes, and a ton of positive self-talk.
I have been thinking a lot about how strong children are. The older I get the more sensitive I become to what children face. We adults foolishly say that childhood is carefree. It's a fallacy we like to spout, that we adults face harder things and we long to be children once more. But I'll tell you this sincerely. Children face unspeakably hard things. And they do so at an age where they have no learned resourcefulness for coping. Yet, somehow, they survive and go on. In my limited experience, I know children who have been abandoned without a word by a parent. Children who deal with the fallout of mental illnesses. Children who have the physical signs of security but who are neglected emotionally. Children who have faced death through illness or injury. Children who have had unspeakable acts forced upon them.
And yet somewhere inside they find the strength to wake hopeful, to smile, to skip and play while navigating the horrors that life has already thrown at them. If a child cannot show an adult what blind faith is then shame upon us for not opening our eyes and seeing it. It is joy in the face of sorrow. It is hope when everything says there is no hope. It is bravery beyond words. It is simply getting through each day and then facing the next. All the while they are at the mercy of adults who are complaining and reacting angrily to the day they've had. Who are whining and spouting off about their emotional well-being and the need to protect their mental health. And pouring out their merciless anger upon those very children who have been given them to raise. Heaven help us.
I heard a sermon that blew me away with more revelation. He was preaching on the Ecclesiastes 3 'Seasons' passage. I understood that I had gotten so accustomed to drama and struggling over my feelings that I didn't know how to enjoy a season of peace. I've gotten so used to straining to pinch pennies that I don't appreciate the season of abundant provision. I've gotten so used to crying over the heartaches that I don't know how to enjoy a season of laughter. I've been so busy looking behind me that I can't enjoy the season of rest... Heaven help me, I am ready to stop living in a season that has come and gone, is PAST, and enjoy the one I'm in!
I'm also weary of letting anxiety and worry rob me of my joy in future events. Remember how we nearly spoiled that wedding party trip we took? Ugh. No more worrying about things that won't happen for future events.
John and I must have been on the same wavelength. We talked on a short road trip we took this week and we both agreed that we were tired of looking at what we didn't get out of life. Now, neither John nor I dwell on those things as a rule. But we look back and say, "Oh yeah, well that didn't happen, and it was a hard disappointment." You know the sort of things I mean. The job you'd applied for and got hired for, only to arrive the first morning and learn you'd been downgraded to a different position. Or the relationship you'd put your heart and soul into only to watch it crash through no fault of your own. Those sorts of things. My greatest disappointment is that I never had, nor do I have, a loving relationship with my mother and brother. I wanted that very much. They do not.
It's easy to feel that deep-down disappointment and to wonder why it was so. Why couldn't it have been different? I don't know. No one has a good answer to offer for why. Only God knows.
But as I told John, I want to look more closely these days at the things I did receive that I'd honestly not dreamed were possible, like the relationship he and I have had. For 31 years and 8 months, I have been in love with a man that I love dearly, who truly loves me. I like him most of the time. These 30 years we've been married have flown past like a busy week. Sometimes, the days were hard but the marriage has always been good. I cannot even voice how incredible I find this fact.
There's my relationship with Christ. I was certain that God would never love me. Given the family struggles, If my family found me unlovable, God most certainly wouldn't care. Yet time and again, I've learned that He does love me. I've also learned that a church might cast you out, but God never fails in his loving care. He will correct, guide, and discipline you but never leave you.
There is the fact that for the past 28 years, I have been writing steadily. I won't win awards for my writing but what a joy it has been to write of my home, share my heart, and have a steady audience willing to suffer through it all with me. I can't say thank you all enough. Some of you became dear friends. I've found many kindred spirits. We all need kindred spirits.
And last is the fact that we are debt-free. That might sound petty given the previous things I mentioned but having grown up in financial insecurity with basic items often unavailable (not food but clothing and shoes, electricity, running water...) having grown up in that fearful atmosphere of having everything I owned taken away and having married into the same sort of financial insecurity with my first marriage, to have a man who not only provided for my children and me, who has done what he could to ensure that I never have to worry about losing my home or going without basic needs while we struggled to live on a low salary is amazing. I may well whine about not having this or that, but I always know I have the things that make me feel physically secure. John understood my need for financial security. I didn't need millions of dollars. I just needed a home that was mine.
In the weeks ahead, we have many things happening. Some will be routine, some joyful, and some will be stressful. We'll have comings and goings. There will be days that are overly long and days that will have additional activities thrown in. I am still determining how my time will be distributed and how many posts I will get to write. This week will be as usual but in June I'm planning to only keep up the weekly Diary. I typically do this in August, but this year, it's necessary that I do it in June. It may stretch into a portion of July. Please bear with me. If I can write anything extra I will, but I can manage a weekly Diary post as that is done in small increments.
Now, I shall end this and get back to work. Thank you for stopping by and I'll talk to you again soon.
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5 comments:
I do not think children are strong or resilient--if they were, so many adults would not be in therapy or on psychotropics. I think most children are good at working the hand they are dealt with, often with maladaptive behaviors, which is why it is so hard to do treatment with children---they are afraid of learning new behaviors because they believe that if they lose those self-protective behaviors that saved their lives, they will be weak and will get hurt again. When I did treatment with adolescents, I worked at teaching them that they were learning a new language (behavior) and that if they ever felt like they needed the old skills they would be able to call them up.
The worst thing is that there is a study called the ACEs study. It followed thousands of children for a long time. By the end they were able to categorize traumatic events and found that after a certain number of them, children's physical health was severely damaged---even if they had received treatment---when they became adults.
According to the study, "When we’re thrust over and over again into stress-inducing situations during childhood or adolescence, our physiological stress response shifts into overdrive, and we lose the ability to respond appropriately and effectively to future stressors—10, 20, even 30 years later. This happens due to a process known as gene methylation, in which small chemical markers, or methyl groups, adhere to the genes involved in regulating our stress response, and prevent these genes from doing their jobs. As the function of these genes is altered, the stress response becomes re-set on “high” for life, promoting inflammation and disease."
As the number of adverse events in a kid's life increases, so do the physical problems in adulthood. With an ACE score of 4 or more, things start getting serious. The likelihood of chronic pulmonary lung disease increases 390 percent; hepatitis, 240 percent; depression 460 percent; attempted suicide, 1,220 percent. Children who have had this many adverse experiences can have an increased risk for alcoholism, drug abuse, depression, and suicide attempts; an increase in smoking; poor self-rated health; an excess of sexual intercourse partners, and sexually transmitted disease; and an increase in physical inactivity and severe obesity. (ACES.org if you want to read more.)
I know what you mean about weight. I have battled excess weight my entire life, at one point I was 150 pounds heavier than I am now. I was severely abused physically and I remember thinking, "Someday I will be so big, no one will dare to hit me." And so I became. When I lost weight, I actually had panic attacks that I was getting too thin, too weak to defend myself. It is a curse and although I have it under control now, I fight a lot with not eating mindlessly or when I feel sad (or happy!). And it does not help that food nowadays is manufactured to reduce impulse control for snacks.
I guess I am writing this to say you are not in this fight alone and that, judging from what small things you have said about your mother, you have already won the fight. Maybe not always pounds wise, but by becoming a better person than she is. And you have used this blog to help others become better people.
I made a similar medication error a number of years ago. I used to have my desk upstairs in our bedroom and kept my daily medications in the top left drawer. I take Singulair for asthma (a square pill) and Clonidine for blood pressure (a very small round pill).
I also had a prescription for a muscle relaxant following a back injury but had never taken it. When my mom was laid up with sciatica and in horrible pain I gave her the muscle relaxant to try. She was then given her own prescription and gave them back to me. I put them in the drawer with my other meds. You see where this is going, right?
It just so happens that the muscle relaxant and clonidine look very much alike. I took the muscle relaxant instead of the blood pressure medicine for about 10 days when it dawned on me that I should have had a lot more in my bottle and realized my error. When I mentioned it to my husband he commented on how quickly I'd been falling asleep each night, something I usually struggle with. However, it didn't help my blood pressure at all.
And to make you feel even better about your error, I'm an R.N. (or was, anyway).
I took, have recently gained weight due, I believe, a mix up with my thyroid medication. My doctor's error, not mine. And I'm struggling to get it off
One thing that helped my attitude is to focus on the things I can do to improve my appearance. I asked my hairdresser about a more flattering haircut. For my that's a long, layered bob with blunt bangs. She also suggested a shampoo that really brightened the overall tone. I watched some YouTube videos on flattering makeup for older women (I am 64) and have been taking more care with my makeup. Finally I went through my closet and tried on everything. I put aside anything that didn't fit or flatter me. I also watched a lot of videos on how to dress to flatter for my age and size. I'm short and decided capris were not doing me any favors. Instead, I purchased two pair of loose, flowing wide leg trousers. They are cool and comfortable, flattering and in style. I added tops that hide a thick middle and are also comfortable and flattering. I didn't spend a lot of money and the results have been that I feel better when I look in the mirror. Obviously you are already doing some of this. Good for you ditching the pants that didn't make you feel good.
One more note - you mentioned Ree Drummond's iced coffee method and that's who I learned from and use her method. Super easy and makes a lot or a little. So good and delicious too.
Hi Terri.
I rarely comment but wanted to commend you on your positive attitude to recognizing when you are in a good season rather than dwelling on a bad one. I will take this to heart as I am guilty of doing the opposite!
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