Little Lies Rob My Dreams

I found myself the other day lamenting what I cannot do...

I told myself that it was just a passing season, that it wasn't my fault, that it couldn't be helped, that this was just the way life is...

Lies.  These are lies.

The truth: I have been hit with a little financial strain this season but not a devastating one that prevents much.  No, for the most part, I am to blame.  I've made choices, that don't appear too devastating at first glance, but which are insidiously destructive when repeated ad infinitum.

And it would also be true that some of the things I haven't done is because I've opened up my heart and looked inside and what I want is to build memories with John...which I can't do.  There's no getting around that.

But part of my issue is financial and it IS my fault.  And what is my problem?  It's food.  That is my realm of overspending and it's holding me back.

I've excused it away easily enough because it's not snacky foods or excessive takeout rather than cooking.  For the most part it's good whole foods, quality foods, but not necessarily food I need.  I have enough.  I have enough.  But when I feel tempted to make myself feel better, my acceptable go to bit of indulgence these days is to head to the grocery store and fill up a cart with good solid food that is on sale and pack it into pantry, fridge and freezer.  

I feel virtuous in that sort of overspending.  I'm not wasting it.  I'm not letting it spoil and then tossing it away.  I am building my food storage.   I can, as I said, easily excuse it because at first glance it's not a bad thing.

But it's food I don't need.  It's over and above and beyond.  It's the same as having a packed closet and feeling the need to go buy another five or ten pieces because it will make me feel better in that moment.  Even if I wear them all routinely, I still don't need the excess.  

I learned a lot watching my mother who was a compulsive sort of person. She ate compulsively.  She pursued hobbies compulsively.  She shopped compulsively, buying lots of things that she hid away and never touched.  Even as a single woman she bought more food in a month than she had room to store, much less use.

And I well remember her crying real tears because what she wanted was a prettily landscaped yard, a lovely home.  But she constantly wailed that she had no money and she didn't...she'd spent it on other things, things that had no real importance to her, nearly all of which ended going into a dumpster or to a donation center.  

She'd spent enough in twenty years to renovate and decorate her entire house and have her yard professionally landscaped, too, several times over if she'd chosen.  Yes, and paid someone to keep it all maintained for the rest of her life as well!  But all she had to show for it was a lot of cheap stuff and the 'lie' that she hadn't any money to do those things she most wanted to do, a lie she told herself repeatedly.

I swore I'd never be in her shoes.  That if ever I had any money to use I'd do my best to use it for what mattered, what would really count.  For me that is to take care of my needs so my family doesn't have to, to maintain and improve my home, landscape my yard, travel, and be a blessing to someone in need.

And yet, here I am, struggling ever so slightly because (a) life happened and some rather large and expensive bills came up which weren't of my making or choosing but just one of those things that happens, and (b) because my one area of repeated overspending is food.  And honestly, I might have managed something of what I truly wanted had I not been overspending.

I'm undisciplined.  Not broke.  Undisciplined. And it is high time I stopped telling myself these little lies. 

It's not yet a habit that is keeping me from doing anything I really want to do, but it could easily become the very thing that cripples me and prevents me from doing those things which I think would better enhance my life overall.  I can do better.  And I mean to!

Things That We Bump Into

 

In the midst of my resting period, I stumbled into an unexpected web from the past.  As sticky and persistently clinging as any damp spider web can be, I found myself forever trying to extricate my thoughts and feelings from the tangled mess I'd wandered into quite by accident.

It began, as things of this sort do, quite innocently.  I was wandering about doing a routine errand when I heard a page go out and the person requested had the same name as someone from my far away past, back when I was restless and seeking and quite honestly far more beautiful and reckless than I shall ever be again.  Really, it was nothing to go into a tither over and yet, I did.  I spun right around into that web and found myself confused and frustrated on so many scores as I attempted to free my thoughts and emotions.  

One Day...

 

One day...

You're going to wake up and know

How strong you are.

September - Promises for the Months Ahead

I think my time away was very beneficial.  I read a number of books.  I took a lot of naps and slept in late most mornings.  I ate decently, stayed home a lot, marathon viewed my way through several new to me vlogs and tv series, watched movies and journaled.  

Along about the fourth week of August, I woke with a tingling anticipation for the months ahead.  A little restless, a little ambitious, a little anticipatory for autumn.  I even planned my very first trip, which I'll be taking with family to another state that is NOT Florida, and then I began setting my plans in motion for a trip to St. Augustine.

This Too is What Grief Looks Like

 

I know I've said it before, but July ended up being a difficult month.  Not a hard month particularly, but minor illness, sciatica, a week of being sad, a month more or less of not feeling well overall, heat...You name it and it pretty much knocked me off kilter.  And it's left me feeling I am out of place somehow.

For one thing, school has started.  Every year I've gotten excited about a 'new year' when school began.  This year, I feel terribly blasé.  And honestly, I'm a little puzzled about it.

For another thing, I have several minor health issues that I've found have been terrible stumbling blocks.  I've been reluctant to make appointments that would obviously provide answers or solve issues because I don't feel well.  I've felt overwhelmed by decisions, period.  And yet, I have no good reason for not feeling well.  I'm not sick.  I just don't feel 100%.  

Can't Never Could

 

Over the last several months I've begun to say more and more often, "I can't..."  You may fill in the '...' part with whatever it is in your own life that you feel you can no longer do.  For me, it's about my health.

A year ago, at my annual visit with my former doctor's partner, my A1c was smack on the mark for diabetes.  The doctor, being the type that he was, fussed mightily, told me I'd die of a heart attack any day now and focused solely upon reprimanding me about every imaginable thing under the sun.  To be honest, it put my back up.  It also burst my confidence.  

Incarnations

 

                                                           painting by Freydoon Rassouli

I was sitting here thinking the other day, while the television was paused.  My photo gallery from Amazon began to scroll across the screen.  I looked at the backgrounds instead of just the people in the photos as each rolled by.  I was amazed at how often the decor of our home changed through the years, how different our yard looked in various stages, how much I'd changed myself in hair color, facial features, clothing styles, hairstyles, etc.

Later I was watching a vlogger who said, "If I could be reincarnated, I'd like to come back as...."  

And that's when it hit me.  Every season in life, every change of decor in our home, every job, every relationship, every life stage is essentially a form of reincarnation, a new life. We live a series of lives in a lifetime.  

Promises for August

 

I am glad I didn't make big promises for July because it got away from me.  I did get peaches, eat my peach ice cream, even managed a day or two with the children, but most of it was spent working my way through not feeling well.

One promise I didn't make, but which I added in was giving myself a week to just feel the feelings and not restrain myself in any way about them.  I have no regrets at all.

I am done with July.  Now let me think ahead to August...

I'm Not That Woman Anymore

 

I think one of the most disturbing reality checks is that no matter how many years away from self-abuse, and self-sabotage I might come, at some point, when I'm overwhelmed or too tired, or hungry, or sorrowing, I will find myself smack in the middle of thoughts of what I might do.  Never good things, mind you.  Stinking thinking sorts of things, things that hail right back to the days of not caring for myself but reacting with destructive behaviors.

I've never been an alcoholic, but I understand too well the desire to drown my sorrows, albeit my drownings include compulsive overeating, indulging in behaviors that undermine my self-esteem and make me feel shame.  There they are, bold and stark and demanding as always, beckoning to me wildly.  "Hey, why don't you...?" they shout at me.  

Permission to be Sad

 

I sat down the other night weary to the bone.  Beyond that even, weary to the core of my soul.  "Why?", I asked myself.  "Why am I so very wearied just now?"

Well, it's not just now.  It's been building over the past few months.  Starting the long waiting day of March 21 and going all the way through this past weekend.   Sunday evening, I sat down and looked at my calendar.  There was nothing to do.  No appointments to keep, no bills to pay, no big chores planned, no time out with the grandchildren.  I don't need any groceries, or to run any errands. 

Renter vs. Owner Mentality

 

I have a secret love.  Mind you all, it's been ongoing for years upon years, but here lately I've indulged in it more and more.  I like to watch vlogs about small apartments.  We're talking anything from 191sq. ft., to the 2m sort in Paris.  Deep city apartments, lost in the boroughs and arrondissements.  I love seeing how people utilize their tiny spaces, some of which are rented and some of which are owned.   

Do I have any desire at all to live in New York, or Paris, or Italy, or Chicago or Los Angeles? Nope. None.  Not at all.  I am very much a girl who must have her green space right outside her window, be free of traffic noise and fumes, and be able to access her home without climbing five flights of stairs or walk six blocks to the corner grocery.  I am and always will be a country woman and quite happy about it.  But I love the glimpse into a life that I don't know and never shall.