Footprints

I have a high gloss wood laminate floor in my living room.  Its pretty good looking and fools a lot of people who think its real wood. It has one big flaw though: it shows foot prints.  Especially Robbie footprints from his sweaty little paws.  I get sooo annoyed cleaning them up every stinkin' day. They attract dirt and my steam mop turns black cleaning up those danged dusty foot prints.  I get annoyed with little things like this, so I am cleaning the floors about 3 times a day to get out those damned dirty footprints. It colors my opinion of Robbie, too.  I see him as a dirty work maker for me with his paw prints everywhere in my otherwise clean house.

Things have not been going so well with the DM and his Ex. So consequently being part of this little three person dysfunctional group is the pits.  X has mastered the occupation of a PSS (Professional Shit Stirrer).  DM, on the other hand has spent the last 10 months trying to take 'the high road' and be 'her friend'.  He is her manservant when she beckons him over to her(their former) home to clean up after their dogs, fix things with her fountains and any other thing that could be done by this able bodied WOMAN who threw her husband out, but apparently regrets it and conjures up reasons to get him in the same room alone with her so she can rant about how awful her life is now that he's gone.

I am 'the other woman' who is not allowed to go to certain places where she might frequent.  I am the equivalent of the bad girl from the wrong side of the tracks who would be an embarrassment to DM if I were to chance meeting Woman Formerly Known As Mrs.  For months, I have been kept in my cage at times and not allowed to be with him on days off or evenings when we had plans.

I am a total babe in the woods when it comes to this divorce stuff.  The only experience I have had is from the nasty prolonged ordeal my brother suffered.  Even that was not traumatic to me like it would be if I had gone through it myself or had been a child of divorce.  Yes, I know I'm lucky, but it makes me not sure of how to fight this battle that I got thrown in the middle of.  All I did was give a decent guy my number and went out with him!  How was I supposed to know that he was someone else's puppet and that his main goal was to maintain 'friendship' with his whip wielding dominatrix?

Extricating oneself from another person who is so bitter and unhappy with you, yet still wants you around to control is very painful. Painful to be the one in the trap and painful for ME to be the one standing by helplessly and told to keep my distance because its not my fight.

When I was about six, my mom took us kids fishing.  It was the usual muddy adventure on a lake shore with dead fish and flies and the desire to catch a big one.  My mom was casting and I was a good distance behind her.  She tipped her rod and the line back but before she could begin the arc to get the line to the water, she hooked me on my waist instead.  It surprised me at first, then I remember how, without looking behind her, she tugged on the line.  It set the hook and the worm into me pretty good.  Someone else yelled, "Mom!! You've got Marsha!"  After some wiggling of the hook and some painful crying, water was poured on the wormy wound and I was good to go with a band-aid.  I remember the rest of the day was consumed by the catch of HUGE carp.  The big gasping monster was thrown into the trunk as a trophy to show my dad who threw the thing in the garbage.

This divorce is that hook in my side all over again.  It hurts and it stinks like worms and dead fish. This time I am working to get the hook out myself.  I don't want to be even more hurt.  I never asked for this.  Is this what it takes to have a relationship with a decent guy anymore?

Last night I stated my case and my feelings about the whole shitty scenario I find myself in.  I've had enough.  DM listened and apologized to how I am being treated and for his part in it.  He is wading in the muddy stinking waters of Lake Divorce himself.  No one has the answers on how to get free of this in a good way.

I was mad about the whole thing and last night I took out my frustration on poor Robbie. On my walk alone with him, because he and I weren't 'allowed' to walk near the house where DM and X were 'talking', I let Robbie run loose in the field near my house.  I got exasperated with him when he would not come.  I stomped toward my house, two blocks away.  Robbie did not follow.  I got my mail from the box and waited. And waited.  He did not appear.  Pissed, I went back to the field where I found him in the same spot I left him.  He had been eating grass so he could throw up.  His stomach was upset.  Coming to me with a weak tail wag, he seemed to be apologizing.  I was still mad.

Later, when I was voicing my opinion to DM of how this whole relationship is not right, he was horrified that I had left dear Robbie in the dark where coyotes could have attacked and dragged him off.  DM acknowledged, especially after last night, that he loves dogs more than people(especially women).

I left DM's house and went home to Robbie with a renewed sense of what is important to me.  That little dog has been nothing but a loving friend to me.  He loves me no matter WHAT I do to him.  And he makes tracks on my floors. More importantly though, he makes tracks in my heart.

This morning, DM came over before work to pick up the protein shake I make for him each morning to drink on his way to work.  I sent him off with the shake and a Special K bar that I cut into a heart shape.  After he left, I noticed the wood floor.  It had dusty footprints on it from someone's work boots.

<sigh>  Now I have TWO sets of prints to clean up.  And I love both of the beasts who made them.

Damaged Goods

This is a picture of a damaged box.  It could be a picture of you.  It is certainly a picture of me.  It is my friends and neighbors, too. But in particular, it is my special someone.

Some of our damages are age related.  You can't reach adulthood without showing some wear and tear. It only piles on as you live.

We get kicked around, thrown carelessly in a heap by others and sometimes the damages are self inflicted wounds.
My damages are on the outside like sun damage, deep wrinkles, worry lines, warts and a few bent joints that were broken but didn't heal perfectly.


DM has many outward damage marks like gray, and balding hair, wrinkles from squinting into the sun while driving machinery and when golfing.  He walks with a slight limp due to two hip surgeries. His skin is no where near the flawless category.  He is very attractive to me in spite of these things because I know that there is more than what I see on his bent and scarred exterior box.

                                           AND THEN
there is the damage that awaits when we get inside our boxes. Mental damage, ie; even brain damage.  Quirkiness, ideals, opinions, obsessions, addictions, wants and desires and misguided thoughts that lead to self medication and self coping mechanisms.  If you're a human box, these things are inside you. But like boxes, some of us get stomped on and run over just one too many times. We can't think our way out of our box of sorrow, loneliness or hurt.  We become desperate for a new box to live in.

I don't care who you are, if you've ever looked for friendship or love in the general population, and especially if you're over the age of 40, you're going to find yourself wading into a huge pile of damaged goods.
HAH!  I just realized that the term 'damaged goods', still contains the word, 'good'.  That implies that the contents of our boxes still hold value.  We still have value to others and to ourselves once the box is opened to discover who is inside.  So why would we just light a match and say that the damaged goods are not worth saving or even opening?  Hey, that's me in MY box that you may be torching!

My DM has physical issues and right now is also confronting the worst mental trial probably of his life.  His psyche has been damaged every bit as much as mine has been by death. He has tried to mend his damaged box, but he grabbed the wrong materials and it is not working.

How can you throw away a human box- I mean human BEING- though?  You don't.  You grab them and show them how to get help.  You tell them what worked for you and others.  You hope and pray that they are listening and will find the person who will open their box and rebuild the contents with the parts that are still good.  And there are always lots of good parts.

My metaphor here helps me write what I cannot say about my loved one's struggles right now.  I cannot be the one who opens him up and fixes the mess inside.  I wasn't the source of his undoing and I can't repair him.  I know that.  But I also can't toss him aside like trash.  He is very valuable to me and to many others. I know there may be a day when I have to let this one go and I have told him that.  He wants to be shown how to get his life put back together.  He has used these very words.  It will be work.  I am not his partner in this one, but I will be there for him as long I don't get hurt in the scramble.  I would hope I could be strong enough to say when enough is enough, and see that my involvement is futile.  Most of all, I pray that I never see that day, because I love him no matter what.

I see signs of good things around the corner. Yesterday, I opened my Yogi teabag and this is what it said, "Your greatest strength is love."  That is why I decided I would not walk away from DM now.  And today, I sip tea with a tag that says, "Uplift everybody and uplift yourself."  Pretty spookily appropriate, huh?

Life is such a bumpy, rutted road, isn't it? I hope that that driver of the truck we are riding in keeps the doors closed so we don't bounce out into the ditch.  No more damages to these fragile lives, please.

StResS

Getting through life is not easy for most people.  I'm definitely part of the 'most people' clan, but even I know I don't have it as bad as many others.

I have sat and listened, watched, read and tried to assimilate what stress does to us.  My area of interest in it comes from wanting to live in the leanest healthiest body possible with the least amount of effort. We are such intricate works of machinery, all parts dependent on other parts to perform the task of being alive and run without glitches.

Nutrition.  Its so much more than what I thought it was even a year ago.  Back then, I bought into the 'eat less, exercise more' mantra that we've been preached at for 50+ years, maybe more! Take a 30 second glance around you and you know that dog don't hunt.  It never did, but so many factors like corporate food companies, doctors and industries grew like mold to make us accept it as fact. The whole Diet Industrial Complex was born.  Kind of like exploiting cancer, except no president has ever declared a war on fat. It would be bad for the economy, you know.

There are too many aspects to go into here of what goes into making our bodies create fat and make them unable to function under the conditions we put them through by eating and living the way we do.  My focus, I find, is stress.  Stress causes inflammation, the seedling of every chronic disease and breakdown of healthy cells.  Stress causes burnout of the organs, the brain and leads to all kinds of problems we were never designed to suffer.

From my embryonic understanding of stress, it is a driver of cortisol which is secreted when the body perceives stress which in turn makes the body go into survival mode, not using its stores of fat and not burning the calories consumed as they should be.
Okay, so I'm not a doctor of any sort, nor did I stay in a Holiday Inn Express last night.  This I do understand; Stress is my enemy.

Stress is all around us, all within us and is lurking around every corner like the grim reaper.  Stress?  Moi?  You say, "I don't have any stress!!  I don't hate my boss.  Hell, I don't even work!"  But the way you live creates your own stress on body and mind.  Sitting on the couch is stressing the body. Exercise stresses the body.  Learning a new language stresses the mind. Overeating causes stress. Starving causes stress.

Dieting = Stress.

That's why I'm no longer a dieter.  I am searching for the means to live without stressing about food or exercise.  As we age, we are even more susceptible to the effects of stress.  Yes, even after we are retired! Really, all retirement is for me is a plate of new problems heaped high.

I have taken on a Mission Impossible task. Call me 'Mr. Phelps', I have to accept this mission, because I have no choice but to look for and work to reduce stress so that all my parts work together as well as possible.  You know what, though?  There are tons of helpful sources out there with fantastic insight on how to get through daily life and manage in better ways.  I wish I could mention all the things I have found that have helped me in my own self discovery journey to better health. Probably the springboard from which I have gotten the most valuable information is from Metabolic Effect.  Please don't think I'm pushing a product or company.  This is just a place packed with smart, prudent, down to earth professional people who can make sense to me out of our endocrine system, neurology, and behavioral tendencies.Oh, and of course they explain the biochemistry of movement and exercise.

Mindfulness
Moderation 365
Menopausal plan
Adrenal Fatigue
Endocrine functions
Supplements
Digestion
Hunger, Energy, Cravings
Metabolism
Hormones

These are just some of the topics I've been educated on in the past few weeks.  I will never know it all, but continuing on, I know I can get a handle on it enough to emerge with a better understanding of why I am the way I am, think the way I think and do the things I do. I can tell you that this is waaayyy harder to figure out than just mindlessly following some 'plan' or 'diet' like I have done in the past.  There is no one size fits all, and there is no single magic formula that will take me through all the phases of my life.

I'm a student of ME now!!  Freshman class, coming up to midterms maybe.
Hey mom and dad, send money- I need to buy more Quest Bars!

That's Just How I Feel

I am coming up on the anniversary of one of the worst days of my life.  I've written of it before, so you may guess what it is.  March 13, 2012 was the last day of my so called 'normal' life. Our life as Gary and Marsha.  It was the day I had to switch gears and become someone else and then someone different yet again later until that train ride ended on October 17, 2012 and Gary died.

Lately I have been very out of sorts in my head, my thoughts and my body.  I have spent a good deal of time trying to rid myself of doubt, mistrust and self loathing and so I read about adrenal fatigue, hormones and metabolism.  Emotions, mindfulness, and digestion- they are amazingly all connected to make up our wholeness.

Tonight I was going through some folders within my yahoo mail account.  The folder named Gary is full of the newsy emails I sent out to friends and family about the ups and downs of Gary's last six months of treatment and life.  Included were letters to and from his employer about insurance, COBRA and other 'housekeeping' items that I needed to handle after the fact.  I read my words and they seem very analytical and to the point without a hint of sadness.  The one thing I noticed in each was my gratitude for what every person along the way did for me to help with Gary's insurance and estate matters. I typed my heartfelt THANK YOU to every person I emailed.  I hope they could sense how much I really meant it.

I sit here now three years later and I am overcome with sadness because I am still feeling very alone and know that this grief is not over nor will it ever be. I have someone in my life now, yes, but its not the easy comfortable relationship that I had with my husband.  Not that I could expect my new love to be anyone other than who he is, shaped by his life as someone else's husband. I know I love him and he loves me, but there's so much more that goes into the investment of another person's heart at this stage of our lives.

We humans seem to have so many expectations of our lives; what we will do in certain aspects of our life, who we will be with and what we will feel.  So how's that working out for ya?  It sure hasn't for me.  Even now, I can't say that I truly trust anyone to have my best interests at heart.

My thoughts fluctuate throughout the day.  Like doing the Limbo- "how LOW can you go?" Most of the mornings are pretty good but then toward evening starts a decline in hopefulness.  I really shouldn't be blogging as I circle the drain...

So this March 13, is also a Friday the 13th.  DM is going to be at NASCAR for three days without me.  I don't have any plans, but may take a day to just do NOTHING. I probably won't be blogging either.  Maybe I will take a bath in the middle of the day.  Yeah, or meditate.  That's just how I feel...

 "Everything will be alright in the end... if it's not alright, then it's not yet the end."
     'Sonny' from The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

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