A Postcard from the Big Top

Wow, that last post was bitchy.  Even when I’m feeling good, I’m cantankerous.   Hm.

I can’t believe it’s been over a month since I posted.  I wish I could even point to some momentous occurrence that has kept me away from the keyboard, but I can’t.  Unless you count one book in a complete-rough-draft stage, two more storyboarded and ready to start writing, and another two or three still in early storyboarding.  I haven’t had a huge amount of time to actually get the words down, but I’ve done a ton of writing in my head and that’s where it has to start.  I’m very excited to have the rough draft done and already have a lot of ideas for revision.  Now I just need to find the time to sit down and do it – revision is much more complex and intricate to me, and requires a lot more effort than the initial writing.

Anyway.  Life’s been…well, I guess it’s just been life.  I’ve done really well with eating right, though I’ve definitely been struggling with the exercise.  I’m working really hard on that aspect this week.  I finally got the heart issues mostly resolved – and it looks like I will have to continue taking a microscopic dose of the beta-blocker, which I’m a bit sad about, but it’s a very small dose and it’s better than the unrelenting PACs and PVCs, I will admit.  But even without the beta blocker, they aren’t severe any more.  Getting off the blood pressure medication was definitely the key – and, of course, a clean diet.

Lately I feel like I’m on a tightrope, though.  There are just so many things to balance and – I guess I’m actually walking the tightrope and juggling at the same time.  Thank God I have a good family and friends to catch some of the balls when I let them fall, and blow on me to balance me out when I lean too far to one side.  I’m making it, though at a snail’s pace.

I’m going to try to start posting again, but I know that I can’t promise anything.  The writing comes first – I have put it aside for far too long and it’s time for me to stop locking that part of myself away.  I also have some reading commitments I’ve made and have not fulfilled – you know who you are, and I haven’t forgotten, I promise; though I suck rather mightily at the moment, I will redeem myself  – and that’s at the top of the priority list too.  But I miss being connected with the blogosphere.  I’d like to find time to fit that ball in with all the rest, I really would.

My priorities look something like this:  (1) My kids, which entails everything from getting them fed to making sure they don’t have teenage or tweenage meltdowns; (2) my husband, which basically just means not being a mega-psycho-bitch and keeping the house in some semblance of liveability – God love him, he doesn’t ask for much, though I try to throw in as much love and affection and even occasional sex as I can manage, and he’s been amazing lately; (3) the writing; (4) food and exercise; and (5) everything else.  I’m sure my job should fall in there somewhere but right now I could honestly care f-all about it.  I’m getting the work done, but I honestly don’t care.  I really need to change jobs because I am SO phoning it in and that’s just not fair to the clients…they deserve someone who gives a shit, don’t they?  And that’s just not me anymore.

So that’s where I live right now.  I keep saying I’m at the bottom of the well but that’s not really true.  It’s more like I’m on that tightrope and occasionally I do fall, but thank God there’s a safety line, so I can always haul myself back up.  And there are a few wonderful people out there who are more than willing to jump in and lend a hand to get me back up there, too.  I’m very blessed.  I just have to remind myself of that periodically.

Healthy and Happy – the Conjoined-Twin Dwarves

I feel amazing.

I just want that on the record.  For when I slip into old eating habits and feel like crap and don’t understand why.

Eating healthy, eating really clean, feels so good.  I want to remember that.

Yesterday, I was able to plan ahead a little better and kept my sodium to 1,789 mg.  It sounds like a lot, but it’s still almost 700 mg below the US RDA (and bear in mind, I don’t have a lot of respect for the RDA in most regards, but I gotta have something to go on here).  I also managed to get my calories up to 1,435, which is a little below what I normally shoot for, but as close as I could get – and I only did that by eating a little more of something not-all-that-healthy.  [It never ceases to amaze me how much clean, whole, healthy food you can eat for 1500 calories - more than I ever want, to be honest.]  But overall, I ate very well and extremely clean, meaning virtually nothing processed.  The worst thing I ate was a garlic breadstick with dinner – actually two, that was the something extra – and that was pretty bad.  Shouldn’t have done that, but I did, on the theory that I had calories I needed to meet and leeway in my sodium range – right now I’m trying to stay under 2,000, and I was at about 1500 then.  Not the best reason to eat something.  But I’m getting there.

Today’s meals are planned and, if I stick with the plan, I will end the day at 1,480 calories and 1,866 mg of sodium.  Everything on the list will be healthy with the exception of part of dinner.  I’m planning to eat what the family eats, but less.  That may change – it did last night.  I planned the same thing last night but ended up making a grilled chicken breast and steamed green beans and only eating the breadsticks from the family’s meals.  So tonight may be better than planned, which would put me lower on sodium (a good thing) and lower on calories (not a good thing, but they’d be healthier calories, which is a good thing).

It really is complicated.  It makes me think of the complaints of people trying to lose weight or improve their health – that the methods that work are too complicated.  They require too much thought and planning and preparation.  “I don’t have time,” people will say.  “I’m tired.  I don’t have the money.  I don’t want to mess with it.”

Let me ask you this.  Do you have time to spend four hours in the doctor’s office in a day, waiting, and then another two hours undergoing tests? Do you have time to do this three or four times a month?

You’re tired.  Do you think that sleep interrupted by heart palpitations, gastric distress, aches and pains, or simple mental stress will help that?  Or would you rather sleep soundly from the moment you go to bed until the moment when you wake, without the benefit of an alarm clock, in time to get ready for work, eat a healthy breakfast, and still make it to the office on time?

You can’t afford it.  Can you afford blood pressure medication, diabetes supplies, endless medical tests, or even just a constant supply of over-the-counter pain relievers, antiacids and sleep aids?

I’ve had all the same complaints, people.  I let them rule me.  And as a result, I’ve suffered all the consequences listed above, that you probably thought were me being sensationalist and over-dramatizing the consequences.  I’m not – that has been my life, the past few months, and the more palatable alternatives are what I’m experiencing right now, having decided to stop making excuses and start doing what I know I should be doing.

It is complicated and confusing to actually think about what you’re putting in your mouth.  It’s time-consuming to plan your meals every single day with attention to nutrient content, possibly harmful additives, calorie count and other factors that make the nutritional difference between Cheetohs and spinach.

It is tiring to work out virtually every day, whether you feel like it or not.  It is hard to make time for the workout and the meal planning and the shopping and the food preparation in a day that is already crammed full.  It does require sacrifice, time management, self-discipline, and sometimes rearrangment of those parts of your day that you can rearrange.

I know all this.  I am a wife and mother, with two kids who have all sorts of requirements, an ailing mother who also has needs, a full-time job that frequently wants to be more than full-time, and a driving need to write.  I don’t have the time, the money or the energy for these things either.  Life is hard for everyone – not just you.

But I also know that I’m 36 years old and dealing with health issues that I would not be dealing with, had I made time for self-care the way I know I need to.  Forget about weight loss.  Forget about how I look or what size clothing I wear – because that’s not even what it’s about anymore.

I missed seven days of work in January and early February for doctor’s appointments and medical testing.  I spent over $200 for medication, and will be spending about another $750 for my part of the expenses, after insurance.  Do the math – that’s nearly a thousand dollars.  Do you know how much organic produce I could buy for that?  And my condition isn’t even life-threatening, at least not yet.  Imagine what those numbers would look like if I had diabetes, honest-to-God high blood pressure (I don’t, actually, though my doctor is only beginning to realize it, thank God), arthritis, or erosive esophagitis instead of simple GERD.  Those are only a few of the problems that are possible, and they’re all where I’m headed if I don’t change, and change now.

Let me be very clear on this, by the way.  Being fat does not make you sick.  There are overweight people who are overweight for various reasons who are very healthy.  Eating crap and sitting on your happy humpus all day makes you sick.  Yes, it does, and I know some people disagree.  I don’t care.  It made me sick.  I’m 36, and the way I’ve eaten in the past has made me feel like I’m about 60, some days.  [Actually, there are 60-year-old women I work with who are more spry than I am sometimes.]

Whatever your excuses, you can keep making them until the cows come home and nobody can stop you.  Nobody can make you decide to be better to yourself.  And every night, you can tell yourself it’s not your fault, you couldn’t have done any better because everyone else just needs too much from you.   I know I did, for a long time. It might even make you feel better for a little bit.

But I feel a lot more content, and energetic, and better, when I go to bed knowing I’ve made time to care for myself.  It takes more effort and concentration from me, I have to get up earlier in the morning, and I have to say no on occasion to others’ demands.  But in the end, I’m worth it.  So are you.

I’m not sure who I’m ranting at, here – anyone reading this blog is probably already on the road to health and knows the value of self-care.  And anyone reading it who isn’t there, is probably annoyed as hell with me right now and thinking what a preachy, sanctimonious b**ch I am.  And they might be right, I’m willing to concede that. But I preach and rant because I care.  If I could possibly make one person who isn’t there, actually hear me and think about what their body really needs and how much more they deserve, for one second – I’d be happy.

Hell, I’m already happy.  I’m happy to be alive, to be blessed with the amazing people in my life, to have endless opportunities and possibilities in the future that I may not know about yet, but that I am confident will appear.  I’m happy to have tomorrow, and the next day, and however many days I can eke out of my poor, abused body.  I’m happy to be strong and feeling good and loving myself.

But I’d be even happier if everyone else in the world were there, too. 

Always Something to Learn…

Day Two in my exercise of avoiding sodium.  I am still stunned at how much is in so many foods.  This will definitely be the impetus that propels me into truly clean eating, though, that’s for sure.  My new problem?  Getting in my daily calories while avoiding the sodium.  My daily plan for today comes up to a little over a thousand calories.  Not nearly enough, and the only thing I can do to increase them without increasing sodium is eat about a thousand pounds of fruit and vegetables.  (Actually?  I’m thinking cheese.  The brand I buy is surprisingly low in sodium, and I do love cheese.  Plus then I don’t have to stuff myself to bursting to even come close to the right calorie range.)

Once I get the sodium thing down, I’m going to start paying attention to fat grams.  At that point, I’ll pretty much never eat again.  Hah.

It never ceases to amaze me how much there always is to learn.  No matter how much you think you know about health, about the body, about eating well and exercise, there is always something new to learn, every day.  It’s been a sort of quest for me for the past few years and I am definitely much wiser than I started out (which wasn’t hard, as I started out completely clueless) but I am a long way from “there” – wherever “there” is.  It’s sobering whenever something comes up – like this sodium thing – that highlights just how much I have to learn.

But so far, I’m suffering no ill effects whatsoever from discontinuing my blood pressure medicine – bearing in mind that this is only my second day, of course.  However, I am happy to report that while I did have palpitations yesterday, they weren’t nearly as severe.  So far today, I have had perhaps two episodes, both very mild.  Now, that may have nothing to do with the meds, as TOM did show up unexpectedly today and I have noticed in the past that hormonal fluctuations seem to accompany the changing severity of the palpitations.  But I wouldn’t be at all surprised if a sodium/potassium imbalance were part of the problem.  It’s no secret how intricately intertwined the body’s systems are, and nothing irritates me more than to hear someone say, “Oh, X can’t possibly have any effect on Y.”  Of course it does.  If it affects Z, and Z affects A, which in turn affects B – at some point down the line, there will be an effect on Y.  (Don’t you love my lightning fast and sterling example of the different uses of “affect” and “effect” there, by the way?  You’re welcome.)

I do feel wonderful today.  That is partly a product of clean eating and exercise, definitely.  It’s partly a product of being very focused and productive at work.  It’s partly due to an improved focus and awareness of appropriate self-care – I have been very dedicated to my Fake It Till You Make It experiment, and so far I’m Making It pretty well.  But a huge amount of it is due to the fact that, in the past week, I have written 135 pages on my latest project.  When it comes, it comes fast.  And I am reminded that there are very few things in life that make me feel more alive and energized and effervescent than writing.

When I start writing after a long hiatus, I always wonder, “Why haven’t I been doing this?  I should do this all the time; why don’t I?”

And after a few days, I remember why.  Because it consumes my existence.  Because once I get going, I don’t care about anything else.  I am immersed in the world of my story, and the so-called real world around me pales to a pathetic shadow.  I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to sleep (I was up till 1:30 the other night because I couldn’t stop) and I certainly don’t want to work.  It takes real determination to stay focused and continue this delicate balancing act in which I’ve been engaging for the past two weeks, and the struggle is a little harder each day.  The temptation to put the work aside and just write all day is horrific – but what a great way to get fired, no?    I can’t do it, no matter how much I want to…but it’s harder every day.

In the evening, I find myself irritated that I have to take time out to make dinner and sit down to eat with my family.  (Dinner time is sacred at our house – it is family time, and if anything interrupts it had better involve major injury or someone getting a huge check.  So far, writing does not involve huge checks, so…)  I don’t want to take time out to exercise.  I didn’t want to watch the Biggest Loser the other night.  I get cranky when YD wants me to make her popcorn.  Not Acceptable.  I have a serious addiction here, and it is escalating.

This is the struggle for me, and it’s the real reason I’m not a published writer.  Because to do it right, I have to lose myself in it.  I have not yet found the balance and self-discipline that I am evidently going to need to do this professionally.  It’s not a job for me, it’s a passion and an addiction, and right now I need to utilize my intelligence, my organizational ability, my sense of responsibility, and my self-control to find the path to making it into both. Typically, my answer to it is to put the writing aside completely as I “just don’t have time for it” (meaning I don’t have 24 hours a day to immerse myself in it, the way I want to) and that’s how I end up going months without writing a single word.  That is not the path I want to take this time. This time, I want to find the middle ground, to develop the balance between my passion and the rest of my world, which I also love.

So that’s the theme for my life right now.  Balance…focus…responsibility…self-control…and self-awareness.  They are things I need in all areas – my work, my home life, my health, my writing – and if I can manage to get a workable rhythm to them, I may find this the best part of my life so far.  I’m working on it.

HOW Much Sodium?!

I had a bit of a shock this morning.  One of the things my doctor has decided to do is take me off my blood pressure medicine – which is a potassium-sparing diuretic – as he feels it may be contributing to electrolyte imbalances that could be part of the reason I’m having cardiac issues.  So today is my first day without it, and I had decided I need to be super-careful about my sodium intake.  (I know I’m going to have fluid retention issues for a while as my body adjusts, but I’d like to minimize them as much as possible.)

So I wrote down the sodium content for everything I plan to eat today – I do plan my meals to a nicety, so this isn’t as hard as it sounds – and added it up.

I am SHOCKED.  I follow a pretty clean, low-salt diet, with an emphasis on whole foods and a minimum of processed crap.  But still, if I followed my planned diet for the day, I’d be over the RDA of sodium for people with NORMAL blood pressure – let alone high blood pressure!  Well over.  Like, scary-over.

I’m more than slightly horrified by this.  What horrifies me the most is that this is post-life-change.  I can’t even imagine what my daily sodium intake would have looked like three years ago.

And the thing is, none of this is added salt.  This is what’s in the food I’m eating already, and it’s food that either is specifically low-sodium, or that you would think would be low in sodium.  (Clearly, you’d be wrong, because it’s not.)

I’m a firm believer in synchronicity.  If I’m getting a message from a lot of different sources, regardless of how coincidental it may seem, it’s not a coincidence.  It’s a message I need to hear.  Right now, what I’m hearing is that I don’t eat clean.  I’m talking the talk, but I am SO not walking the walk.  And it is past time for that to change.

I can’t force my family to leave alone the unhealthy crap, and for a while now I’ve been trying to have one foot in both worlds, partly because I don’t like conflict and partly because it’s just cheaper to compromise.  But when I look at the medical bills that came in last month alone, I’m aware that the truism really is true – you might save money at the grocery store now, but you’re going to pay a lot more than you saved later on, at the doctor’s office.

It’s time for me to do it all again – start from scratch, reexamine every single thing I buy and eat, and change.  I can’t afford not to.  And oh, that makes me tired.  But it’s got to be done.

Doctor, Doctor…

I’m not a fan of life’s little ups and downs.  I’d just like to get that on the record at the outset, here.

I just came from the doctor’s office, having finally – in desperation – scheduled an appointment with him to discuss the results of all the testing he’s done, because NO ONE WOULD TELL ME ANYTHING!  I found that a bit frustrating, I think justifiably so.  So I made an appointment, and the insurance company will pay another $140 or so.  Sorry, Blue Cross.

I have been seeing this doctor for 12 years.  Twelve years.  Ten plus two…six plus six…twelve.  12.  Almost long enough, technically, to grow a whole person who is physically capable of producing more people. (It’s possible.  My daughter started her period when she was 11.)   That’s a lot.  I have been very happy with him; he’s always been very thorough and willing to listen to me about what’s going on with my body – that’s very important to me.  Nobody, no matter how much training they have or how long they’ve been practicing medicine, knows my body better than I do.  I should have at least some input into the process, shouldn’t I?

I believe in being very proactive and involved in your own medical care.  I work in a law office and for several years, worked exclusively on medical malpractice cases, (yes, you may being throwing stones at any time, thank you in advance for avoiding the head area) and I have learned the importance of being aware and informed and paying attention.  There is nothing more important than being involved and aware of the care you are receiving – and if you aren’t getting the care you need, going elsewhere.

After twelve years, I may have reached that point.  I know that my doctor doesn’t know what’s going on with me.  I understand that the results of the testing that has been done are not showing anything.  I also know that I am continuing to have symptoms, despite medication and my best efforts to regulate them with diet and exercise, and that tells me that something is wrong.  If the tests aren’t showing anything, perhaps we aren’t doing the right tests?

He’s been focused primarily on cardiac issues, which makes sense.  However, after multiple tests, it seems certain that the problem is not with my heart.  I’ve had a plethora of tests, some rather invasive, and I feel confident that if I had a cardiac abnormality, we’d have found it by now.  I am firmly convinced that the problem lies somewhere else in my system; perhaps it is an endocrine issues, as I have certainly struggled with those in the past, or perhaps it is a blood chemistry issue.  All I want is for every possibility to be explored.  I do not believe that is too much to ask.

I spent over an hour with my doctor – and yes, it’s impressive that he would even spend that much time with me, particularly at an appointment that was scheduled solely because I wanted to talk to him, and not because it’s in the normal treatment pattern.  This is why I have stayed with him so long.  However, it’s incredibly upsetting, frustrating, and somewhat humiliating that I had to spend the first twenty to thirty minutes of that time convincing him that I’m not insane!  That I am not a hypochondriac, that I am not searching for something that isn’t there, that I am concerned about my own health and am not trying to be difficult, but only to be sure that I don’t have a major issue going undiagnosed.

This man has treated me for 12 years of my life, through thyroid issues and blood pressure issues and gastroenterological issues and anxiety and depression and pregnancy and a million other, more minor health issues.  He knows me.  He knows my family history intimately – he treats my mother, too, with her serious health issues, so he knows some of the reasons I am so vigilant.  He should know I’m not making this up, or just looking for attention!

[And the thing I hate?  Is that the fact that he does seem to question my legitimacy on this subject makes me wonder about it myself.  Am I imagining things?  Am I being overly paranoid, overthinking, manufacturing symptoms by my very anxiety and fear of symptoms?  Is it really all in my head?]

I can’t tell you how sad and alone it makes me feel to even entertain this notion, and I have enormous sympathy for women who, throughout the years, have struggled to have their health issues taken seriously by a male-dominated profession full of people who dismiss any complaint that can’t be immediately diagnosed, as “hysteria”. I know this has changed to an enormous degree…but I also know it hasn’t changed enough.

I don’t expect results right away.  I don’t expect him to have all the answers.  But I will be damned if  I am going to sit still while he decries the questions.  They are valid questions, by God, and if I don’t insist that someone take them seriously, then I have no right to complain ten years down the road when I am sick or disabled and it’s too late to do anything about it.

I will be heard, and if it isn’t by him, then it will be by someone else.

The upshot of the lengthy and at times acrimonious meeting is that I will discontinue a medication that could possibly be creating electrolyte imbalances, and I will have a sleep study.  (That part made sense in the context of the discussion, but thinking about it now, I can only say, “Huh?“.  But whatever.  I’ve always had sleep issues, so what the hell.)  In two weeks, we will meet again and discuss options; should we have obtained no answers and no improvement, his next step is to send me to a cardiologist.  [My next step is to get a copy of my chart and find a more holistic doctor who's willing to look at a lot of different scenarios and options instead of employing fanatical tunnel-vision and then throwing up his hands when he doesn't see anything.]

I do feel that I was heard.  But I don’t feel I should have had to argue and insist for so long to be heard.

{And another fun thing?  I do have heart-rhythm abnormalities, but we aren’t going to worry about them because they don’t match the symptoms. Um, what if I’m just really, really bad at describing symptoms?  Does that mean the symptoms don’t matter?  Good God.}

So I’m either a pathetic victim of a blindly impersonal and uncaring medical profession, or I’m a raging hypochondriac who’s driving her poor doctor crazy.  I’m not sure which it is, and that depresses me.  Oh, and I found another gray hair this morning.

Just shoot me.

But for the up side?  I lost three pounds last week.  I’d be more excited about that if I weren’t pessimistically sure that next week I’ll have gained three pounds.

Gah.

Love is in the Air

I should be writing right now – well, obviously, I am writing, but I should be writing something else.  That was my original intent, when I finally got up at 6:30 after being awake since 4:30.  I hate waking up so early on a Saturday, when I really need to catch up on some sleep.  My mind and body aren’t very in sync, obviously.  I do feel very rested, though, so I’m not complaining – yet.

It’s been a good week.  I’m extremely pleased with the results of my “fake it till I make it” experiment.  I capped it off yesterday with a red dress – kind of the ultimate in self-confident behavior, I think – and my goal for the day was “don’t feel self-conscious even though everyone on the planet will be looking at you.”  (Because they do – wearing red is a guarantee of attention, whether it’s good or bad, which is why for years red was a color completely eliminated from my wardrobe.)  I did pretty well.  I did a pretty good job of not focusing on whether or not anyone was looking at me, and not body-checking every time I walked past a mirror.  DH was extremely complimentary, so that was a bonus, too.

Today, of course, is Valentine’s Day, which is not a holiday we really celebrate.  We exchange cards, and we generally get a small gift for the girls.  I usually try to make a nice dinner, and that’s about it.  If it’s on a weekday, sometimes DH will take me out to lunch, which he did yesterday.  I do try to make it a day when I focus on being very thankful for those in my life whom I love, and for the blessing of their love in return, but that’s an internal thing.  I’m going to make it a point to take the girls, or at least YD, over to visit my mom, as we haven’t been to see her in the past couple of weeks and that’s too long.  I’ve also promised to make time for a walk with my friend B., which will be good on both a physical and mental level.  I need to remember how fortunate I am in terms of the people in my life, and take the time to appreciate them.  That’s sort of what Valentine’s Day means to me.

So I’m pleased with the week.  I also had a stunning realization this morning when I woke up so early and realized that it was Saturday…I wasn’t as relieved as I generally am.  I realized that I no longer hate going to work.  That’s huge for me, because it’s an indicator that I’ve taken a huge step out of the horrible mental place I was in at the beginning of the year.  Between the clearing-the-air talk I had with my boss, the rearrangement of my office and my own concentrated efforts to be organized and productive, I’ve been able to make a huge difference in my own daily outlook.  It feels great to know that I have that power – I mean, I knew I did, but I wasn’t doing too well at exercising it.  It’s good to see that improvement.

I still haven’t weighed myself, so I have no idea if my week of excellent eating and exercise discipline have made any difference in that regard.  It’s not really a factor anyway, as my body just feels so much better.  I’m not planning workouts in advance the way I generally do, I’m just making the decision in the evening when the time comes.  Generally that’s a guarantee that I’ll slack, but I’m doing concentrated exercises in mental redirection – putting myself in a particular mental place that will engender enthusiasm for the workout, and so far it’s gone well.  I’m taking it one day at a time, though, because I think that’s what I need right now.  I need very much to be present, right now, in order to keep things ticking along and get myself into that mental place, so looking ahead isn’t really going to help me.  One day at a time, one decision at a time – and so far, so good.

My goal for the weekend is to continue to be present and to focus on the decisions I’m making, one at a time.  I tend to let weekends get chaotic and distracting and I don’ t make very good decisions.  I need to stop looking at weekends as mini-vacations from my real life, and start treating them as days that are just as important to my body and my health as weekdays with their regular routines.  That’s my conscious goal for the next two days.  I’ll let you know how I do.

Happy Valentine’s Day, and may you find much love to be thankful for.

The Ghost in the Machine

I’ve got questions, folks.  I’ve got lots of questions.

My question today was, “Why is it that negative emotions seem to be so much more powerful and automatic and immediate than positive”?  And while I know that this is something that is true to varying degrees depending on the person and the situation, it’s something I think has a grain of universal truth to it.  And I think it’s something that one can train oneself into or out of, and unfortunately a lot of us, myself included, have trained in the negative and out the positive.  Let me explain:

For instance, if I happen upon a photo of someone I loved dearly and have lost, the immediate and predominant emotion is grief.  That person may have brought me great joy and many other positive emotions during the time I knew them, but still the first and most powerful thing I feel is grief – the negative emotion.  (Please to note that my definitions of negative and positive are arbitrary here; most emotions have both negative and positive aspects and I’m aware of that, but for the sake of discussion let’s simplify.)

I tend to look for what I call an evolutionary reason behind human characteristics – in other words, I tend to wonder why this trait survived instead of being bred out of the race.  I’m not going to militantly espouse evolutionary theory here, but I think it makes sense that traits that are valuable to the species – i.e., those that aid survival – are more likely to be passed on, while traits that are detrimental to survival are more likely to die out.

So where did this one come from?  Here’s my thought, and please to bear in mind that it is only idle thought.  I have done no research (other than my 36 years of on-site field work, I guess, ha-ha), nor am I professionally qualified to issue a theory in the matter.  But it seems to me that negative emotions generally exist to deter – fear exists to alert the organism to a situation that is detrimental to survival or prosperity, and to warn the organism to avoid that situation.  Sadness is a consequential emotion likewise encouraging avoidance – that was a bad situation and it ended in a bad result, which makes us sad, hence we are more likely to avoid that situation if possible in the future.  Of course, as intelligence and awareness increase, the emotions become more complex and mutate, if you will, so that they may (a) no longer actually serve their initial purpose and (b) serve many purposes other than the original intended purpose and (c) actually become detrimental in their own way to the organism.

So in a nutshell, what I’m saying is that I think the original purpose of emotion is a sort of Pavlovian stimulus – you press the right lever, you get the cheese (happiness, pleasure, etc.) while if you press the wrong lever, you get the electric shock (fear, sadness).   As we’ve grown and developed greater intelligence and spiritual awareness, we build enormous structures of meaning around those emotion that change their function, but the original purpose was pretty simple.

Positive emotions exist to encourage behavior that is beneficial to the species – love, joy, pleasure, all encourage us to do good things.  (Originally.  We can warp those, as well, and frequently do.)  They encourage us to mate, to bear offspring, to care for and nurture those offspring, and to cooperate and help one another in all the undertakings that aid survival.

Negative emotions exist to deter behavior that is detrimental to the species, as set out above.  But this sets aside anger, which generally does not prompt passivity or avoidance, but rather encourages action of some sort.  So does that make anger a positive emotion?  I think that originally it was – it was a function of the fight-or-flight reaction, triggering physiological processes that made it more likely the organism would prevail in the inevitable conflict.  Territorialism, protection of the weaker members of the tribe, the instinct to defend against another trying to steal the fruits of the harvest or the hunt – those are all things that would, if threatened, prompt anger, which would prompt the organism to defend, which would of course aid survival.

Like many things, though, anger can be warped into a negative thing, and because of its intensity and innate violence, I think it lends itself more easily to negativity than most originally positive emotions.  Also because of that power and intensity, I think it is extremely addictive.  It inspires those physiological responses that closely mimic positive ones – increased circulation, rapid respiration, a surge of energy – and the organism can easily come to crave those processes because they’re enlivening.  Unfortunately, they’re also very damaging to the body if carried to the extreme or indulged on a regular basis.  So anger can very easily be warped and become habitual – in the form of chronic anger and stress – and self-destructive, and end as a force that is detrimental to survival rather than beneficial, as was the intent.

And what’s the point of that dissertation?  I’m not sure it has one.  It’s just interesting to me to dissect why we do the things we do and feel the things we feel.  Sometimes it can make it easier to avoid those negative reactions, because I’m more likely to stop and think about why I’m feeling the way I am.  If I can pinpoint an “evolutionary” reason then I tend to be more inclined to resist that automatic reaction and consciously assert my higher self, by choosing and practicing a more positive, spiritual reaction.

Because that’s the thing that makes the whole mess bearable.  We are contained within physical shells that have programmed responses and inclinations – but the “we” that is contained therein is so much more than those programmed responses.  If we don’t utilize the intelligence and spirituality and intuitive wisdom that we possess, we can be at the mercy of those responses – but we don’t have to be.  We have the ability to choose a higher path, and to be more of the soul and less of the flesh.  And just as the flesh can influence and inhibit the soul – if we allow it – the soul can, if we are aware and conscious and make the effort, deeply influence the flesh.  The key lies in making a continual effort to be spirit-driven rather than physically-driven.  It’s not something that comes easily at first, and it’s not easy to sustain, but it becomes easier and more natural with practice.  [And it helps enormously when I'm able to remember that proper care of the physical shell is essential, because the flesh does continue to influence the spirit, and if I'm not caring for the physical shell, the spirit will suffer as well.  Like everything else in the universe, it comes down to balance.  Just ask Descartes.]

So that’s what I’ve been thinking about this morning.  I do go off on tangents, I know. I want to be a philosopher when I grow up – or maybe in my next life? 

Have a wonderful, spirit-driven day!

Gold Among the Dross

A random stranger told me I was “so pretty” today.  He was a little unusual  and it probably should have creeped me out a little, but it actually made me feel good.  He was saying what he thought, and he thought I was pretty.  I’ll take it.  I mean, he wasn’t, like, rubbing anything on me or drooling.  Take your compliments where you can find them, that’s my motto.

Still writing my mind-candy (complete with recalcitrant characters doing impromptu yoga poses), enjoying it deliriously, and not caring in the slightest that it will never be The Grapes of Wrath or even Mansfield Park, or even wondering (much) if it’s something I’ll be able to sell.  I am loving it and I feel like I could move mountains.  That’s all that matters.

Still making it a point to take really great care of myself in non-eating and exercise ways, and it is indeed spilling over into the eating and exercise, as I’d hoped.  I won’t opine on whether it will continue; I’m just glad for the days I’m having right now.  It feels good to be good to myself.

Still working very hard and being very conscientious at work, which makes me feel so much better about myself as well.  Eventually it should pay off in greatly reduced stress as well, which will be good.

I’m trying to be more conscientious about housekeeping through the week too.  I tend to not do much of anything other than cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, figuring the rest of the house can take care of itself until the weekend when I’m actually home more than four (waking) hours of the day.  I’m trying to do little things in the mornings like make the bed – which has never been a priority for me, I mean, nobody goes in there except me and DH – and straighten the bathroom counter instead of leaving makeup strewn across it.  (Not sure I got to that one this morning, so if you’re reading this, DH, don’t snort too loudly.)  It doesn’t make much actual difference to the house’s condition, I guess, but it makes me feel better about myself, which is the point.  And it will get me in the habit of being more careful if we do, in fact, end up putting it on the market.

I did catch myself being mean to myself this morning – I think my actual words were, “I could be a bigger idiot, but it would be a struggle”.  I repudiated it immediately, which is something else I’m working on.  Not being mean to me or to anyone else – the latter being infinitely easier than the former, but they’re both important.

So we’re halfway through the week, and so far it’s been a good one, because I’ve chosen to make it that way.  And now I’m going to go eat a super-healthy lunch which I am really looking forward to, and then I’m going to go hang out with my random-yoga-posing characters for the rest of the lunch hour.   Eventually I may even figure out how to get them to sit in normal positions rather than (based on my inept description) with their ankles behind their heads…

Have a great day!

Things to Remember

I had an awesome workout last night.  Just had to share that.

I got a card from a friend I haven’t talked to in far too long yesterday, too.  It made me feel very good, and I plan to get in touch with her today to tell her so.

I also spent my lunch hour with another friend I don’t spend enough time with – we had a great time – and I spent about two hours yesterday writing.

It was a good day.  That’s just a sampling of the goodness.

Today is going to be a good day, too.  I cannot ever emphasize enough the power of your own will in bringing to you that which you desire.  I don’t know why it is that I seem to forget that periodically, and end up just sitting and glumly waiting for wonderfulness to find me.  It never does, until I go out and put myself in its path.  I need to remember that.

I have a new story in the works, and I’m enjoying it.  It’s not great literature.  It’s probably not literature at all, to be honest.  It’s pure mind-candy.  But it’s fun, and it’s feeding my soul to work on it.  Nothing else that I do makes me feel happy and alive and passionate and joyous like writing.  I need to remember that as well.

Today, I am wearing a blouse that I love, that I normally cover with a sweater because it leaves my arms completely bare, shoulders down.  I’m not wearing the sweater, unless I have to go outside.  (It’s chilly, folks.)  I am not going to “body-check” when I walk by a mirror and destroy my pleasure in the outfit by critiquing the appearance of my arms.  I am going to simply enjoy wearing an outfit I know is beautiful, and leave it at that.

I got up this morning and did my body test on the Wii, not because I wanted to know how much I weighed, but because I want to strengthen the habit of morning exercise.  I didn’t work out, because I’d slept too long, but I did reinforce that mental pathway of “get up, go downstairs, work on the body”.

I fixed my hair, and I put on a little makeup, and I used the retinol moisturizer that literally takes ten years off my appearance but that I’m normally just too tired or lazy or bummed to bother with.  I wore my contacts, instead of skipping them and wearing the glasses that I hate, but which are easier and which mean I can take them off to nap at lunchtime instead of getting outside and doing something energizing.

I packed my day’s worth of healthy meals and my water, and I had a healthy breakfast.  At work, I made decaf coffee so I could have my second cup, instead of drinking the regular and dealing with the heart palpitations all day that make me tired and upset me.

I gave my longsuffering, ever-patient DH a real kiss when I left (I mean, a real kiss, folks) instead of the usual perfunctory peck.

Oh yeah, and I wore the sexy Victoria’s Secret push-up bra instead of the broken-in comfy one that doesn’t do much for the girls, if you take my meaning.  (Overshare?  Well, maybe.  But it’s part of the process.)

These are the things I’ve done today to honor and appreciate my body and myself, and to make myself feel good about who I am.  And it’s early yet.  I plan to add to the list.  And I will add that despite how it may seem, it’s really not about how I look.  I’m not saying that if I look good, I then have permission to feel good.  It’s sort of the opposite, actually.  I am giving myself permission to feel good regardless of how I actually look.  It’s not about your perception, it’s about mine.  Am I vibrant and sexy and beautiful and worth knowing?  The only answer to that question that counts is my answer.  And the answer can be whatever I choose; I am the one who makes it so.

Everything is cumulative, and everything is cyclical.  The bad, and the good.  I can keep feeding my own negativity and end up miserable, or I can choose to feed my positivity and my self-appreciation, and break out of the cycle of unhappiness.  I can build the good and the strong and the positive simply by choosing them over the bad.  I definitely need to remember that.

It’s not as easy as it sounds.  Nothing ever is.  In fact, it can be incredibly difficult, particularly when you are (as many of us are) at the mercy of unpredictable and abnormal hormones and brain chemistry.  But it can be done.  I have done it in the past, I am doing it in the present, and I will continue to do it in the future.

And that’s what I need to remember most of all.

Have a wonderful day.  And I will, too. 

PS:  Okay, and I just put my hands on my waist, and I have to say, I may still have the muffin-top, but there is some awesome ab structure underneath it.  I am going to choose to be very proud of that today.

Fake It Till You Make It

I’m embarking on a sort of experiment this week.

One of the biggest problems I’ve had, and one that I share with just about everyone and certainly most people who are trying to lose weight, is a terrible self-image.   For whatever reason, we quite literally convince ourselves that we are sub-normal in our horribleness, not worth loving or spending time with or even the effort it takes to really care for our bodies.  We have this image of ourselves as being the ugly duckling in a sea filled with beautiful swans, and the sad irony is that all the other swans think the same thing about themselves.  Or a lot of them do, anyway.

A few years ago, with the help of an amazing therapist, I made the decision to stop feeling that way about myself.   I decided to start believing that I was, as Max Ehrmann says in the Desiderata, “a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here”.  And although it wasn’t as simple as just making the decision – it’s a long, difficult process – it was a major turning point in my life.  I started making changes that have, so far, resulted in my marriage falling apart and being rebuilt far better and stronger than new; a loss of 40 pounds and a change in lifestyle to one that respects and cherishes my health and my body; and a completely new mental and spiritual outlook that has made me far happier, more serene, and more open to everything the world has to offer.

But it’s not a perfect process, and the job isn’t done.  I was shocked and appalled when I realized that, for the past year, I’ve been slowly slipping back into that place where I treat myself like the enemy.  I didn’t even know it was happening until I caught myself one morning (a couple of weeks ago) saying, “God, I am so disgusting.  I hate my thighs.”

It literally took my breath away.  I was so horrified at hearing those words coming out of my mouth (again!) that I was dizzy.  This is not who I am anymore!  I don’t do this to myself anymore.  I’ve given up self-hate, right?

It’s an insidious habit.  It creeps back up on you when you’re not paying attention, and before you know it you’re self-castigating at the drop of a hat all over again.  It isn’t limited to criticizing your appearance or physical characteristics, either, lest you think I’m just being shallow.  I’ve caught myself telling myself what a horrible mom I am; how stupid I am; how clumsy/lazy/worthless/selfish/you name it I am.  And this is not okay.  While I fully recognize my own imperfections, I am also rationally aware that I am not a bad person.  I am not stupid, I am not a terrible mom, I am not criminally lazy/worthless/selfish or anything else.  And yes, my thighs are plumper than I’d like.  But they are not the size of California redwood trunks, the way I see them.

The thing is, I know from personal experience how effective visualization is, and how well the Law of Attraction works.  And it doesn’t only work for the positive.  If I’m thinking these things, and telling myself these things every day, they will become self-fulfilling.  That’s already begun, and I don’t like the downward trend one bit.

So I’m making a conscious decision to move in the opposite direction.  While I am disappointed that I have so much weight still to lose, and unhappy with my appearance, I will choose to think of myself, and treat myself, as an attractive, vibrant, charismatic, sexy person.  I will make extra efforts at self-care – instead of thinking, “oh, I’m not messing with my hair today, I’m too tired, I’ll just pull it back,” I’ll take that extra ten minutes to make it gorgeous.  (Even the – gasp – gray ones.)  I’ll dress to my best possible advantage, rather than throwing on something comfortable but (let’s face it) deeply unattractive simply because I’m tired and I don’t think I can manage to look good in anything anyway.  I’ll even wear makeup, for goodness’ sake, no matter how much I hate it.

Why?  Because this is one area where it really is possible to fake it till you make it.  If you take extra pains with your appearance and self-care, you feel more attractive, and for whatever reason that translates to more energy and self-confidence.  And that, in turn, makes you feel like you’re worth that extra effort, and the energy expenditure required to, I don’t know, have a really great workout?  And it just keeps building and building.  Nothing makes you feel better than feeling good. 

Anger begets anger.  Depression and fatigue beget depression and fatigue.  But if you can force some joy and energy and self-confidence – even a little bit – then they beget joy and energy and self-confidence.  I’m going to make this process work for me, not against me.

And in the process, not only will I take better care of my body, I will take better care of my soul.  I am not going to be the one beating up on my poor, defenseless psyche.  There are other people out there who will be happy to do that!  I need to stop helping them do their work and start taking care of myself again.

So this week I’m forcing the effort to really care for myself.  We’ll see how that goes.  This time next week, I expect to be feeling great about myself.  Wish me luck!