You Are Enough...

It's a long, and lonely walk... 

The air is cool, and heavy with the various smells of earth and sulfur; and night crawlers have begun to pepper the sidewalks with their icky slithering. Only the one or two headlights are seen, and the occasional paperboy might go by...  Sometimes, you might even see a cop car. It's 4:05 AM, and very few are the souls who share my 45 minute journey, once or twice or thrice a week, as I make my way to work down our town's main avenue.

I don't like the journey; yet I do.

For a single, lonely woman... It's a dark, and scary journey. Imagination gets the best of you and you think anything and everything will jump out of some bush, and get you. You think that the car that just abruptly stopped in front of you means to hurt you, when it's really just a paperboy... just doing his thing.

You even get a little whiny during the journey: If only I had a car... if only I had a better job... Why didn't I do my Master's when I had the chance... Why didn't I just become a lawyer when I had the chance.. Why couldn't I have found a rich husband, so I could just sit on my can, and eat bonbons all day... *Really*

(I didn't say ALL my whining would be rational...)

Still, the 45 minute journey is a necessary time of introspection, which might otherwise go very much avoided thanks to our gadget-obsessed lives. (Sure, I could meditate while exercising at a comfortable time of the day, but I might not be as willing to face my fears as when they are staring at me so blatantly in the face.)

Our fears and inadequacies often haunt us; derail us from goals. Sometimes, it's outright paralyzing.

I have to admit that I'm a very dysfunctional adult. I'm riddled with mistakes to fix; mountainous obstacles from self made messes which I'll need to climb on my own... I admit I'm scared...

• Scared I'll never find a good career path, or even an inclination for one;
• Scared I'll never fix my credit and medical bills;
• Scared I'll never be loved and fully accepted;
• Scared of my impending divorce;
• Scared of not having health insurance;
• Scared that I don't see myself as an adult;
• Scared of being healthy, and in shape, for the first time ever... in my adult life. 

Yes... it's true. All those things about me are TRUE. And yes... they are often my lonely, dark roads. 

They are there to remind me that I need to love myself. That I, and only I... am enough. That even those roads have beautiful moments, smells, and memories... all waiting to be found and had. 

We may, sometimes, have support to deal with some of our fears... but some roads will require that we walk alone, and in self love.

"And, oh boy, Diabetes, I don't want to self love," I tell myself... I spent a good, long childhood, being ignored by my parents; and a good young adulthood being a hermit crab... Ah, why must I pay attention now? 

*Whine* 

Why must we dare to live, and have courage, and dream... And be vulnerable??  (Say no to the pushy woman, at work, with the box full of cookies...) 

Probably... because we are the biggest gift we could ever gift ourselves; WE... are the magic in our lives. And nothing else - NOTHING - will ever come close to that. 

I'll try my hardest not to let it slip by. 

Not Quite a Wordless Wednesday: food IS love

I don't really care for Valentine's Day.

You know how it goes. The heavy pressure on that romantic aspect of our lives, that may or may not, live up to "Sense and Sensibility" expectations. The courting, the chocolates, the flowers, the glittery stuff. The "proposals" and declarations. Bah. Humbug. It was enough to make some of my dearest friends... 'joyfully' declare their mood of choice for the holiday, by getting creative on Facebook...

(I have to admit, since I also dislike romance novels,
I thoroughly enjoyed this little creation.)

So... though I do the usual, quiet penance at home with the husband, I can't say I focus very much on Valentine's Day. I certainly don't think of walking away with any sort of "wordless Wednesday lessons," if you would. What's to learn? Materialism? Impossible-to-live-to expectations? Yeah, so one would think. (I don't even have any kids, so I can't make this post about them! lol)

Often, though, life quietly speaks to us in it's own way... especially when our hearts are open, and not just open to diamonds, or chocolates, and other distractions and materialisms, but open to what's TRULY being expressed... by fate? God? The universe? Your own inner self? Perhaps. But, maybe... Just maybe... Valentine's Day needs to be a bit more "selfish" than it already is, you see. Valentine's Day should be about the one love that actually matters more than almost any love out there: self love. Yes, not the kind of self love that goes around expecting what can I get from others... but the kind of self love that goes around expecting what can I get from MYSELF. 

The little image, above... the heart made of wholesome food. That was IT. That was all Valentine's Day had to give me, yesterday. And it gave me a LOT; more than I could have imagined. A random posting of sorts, shared by a stranger, with entirely different intentions.

Food is love.

For me, food has always been love (even though I sort of dislike food). Just, perhaps, not the right kind of love.

Like any other person struggling with binge eating, and disordered eating, I tend to, unwittingly, look for love in food. I tend to want to FEEL things from the food I eat -- comfort, enjoyment, 'numbing' of bad feelings, friendship, avoidance of issues, appeasing of bad memories, etc, etc. Often, I've tried, again and again, to replace the love that others would not give me, or the missing attention from parents... with food, or bury whatever awful life traumas, underneath it.

Often, this is termed "When Food is Love."

Recently, though, I've been quietly asking myself... what if I can just change that definition around? What if food can still be love, but, from a different angle?

The image above gave me the answer. It almost literally screamed it:

"You can do more than just THINK you're getting emotional support from food... you can actually LOVE YOURSELF with food. Good food. Quality food... HEALTHY FOOD. To show yourself love with proper nourishment is the purest form of self love... Be very selfish with it. Do not abuse it, and do not entrust it to just any food. Treasure it."

When we thoroughly manage our health and give ourselves quality foods that make us FEEL healthy, able bodied, and able minded, capable of taking on the world, of thinking, and making proper decisions... When we give ourselves foods that don't just fuel our bodies, but make our hearts sing because they are wholesome and tasty, and FULFILLING, and in more than just temporary emotions we might feel... But also in HEALTHY emotions we may anticipate because we've put effort into making such meals, and invested in ourselves, as we would in our children... We are literally, feeding ourselves love. We ARE our children. We ARE our loved ones.

It's not a diet, it's not a "healthy lifestyle..." It is SELF LOVE. It is simply... Loving Yourself.  

Work on loving yourself, today. You'll be glad you did.

The Most Annoying Person I have Learned to Love...

The day I lost my car... I became an avid pedestrian. Every local place became THE place to go for any goods and services. I really didn't want to lose my car, but the many months of being sick and at home, on leave from work and with no paycheck, left me struggling to make ends meet -- and well, car payments were not a priority. I let the car go.

Then shortly thereafter, I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. November 17th, 2009.

I thus began to get acquainted with a certain place a lot more often than I would have liked. A certain pharmacy. God, I hate pharmacies. I hate their smell, I hate their lights, I hate the waiting... and the lectures you get every time you get your prescription refilled as if you hadn't heard them before for like the billionth time. I've also never cared for the chit-chat. You know, the chit-chat cashiers always give you when you're ready to go. I'm sort of this anti-social who just wants to grab the crap she needs, and be on her way. No eye contact, no talking... bah humbug.

But, alas, there was Sally. (Sally is not her real name.)

Sally loves and loves to talk. Sally is very social. Sally always has something to say, and engages well with customers. Sally loves talking a little too much with her customers. I think she may have even gotten a bit in trouble for it before. It's not easy to leave Sally's side, by the register. Heck, she sometimes even comes over to you while you're in the isle to talk to you while you shop! She's always full of stories -- about the weather, about how things used to be in Ames, about her cat, about how things used to be in her hometown, about what's on sale, about what the best and most addicting snacks are, about her younger years when she used to have a career in social work, etc. Needless to say, Sally is very annoying.

Some days, when Rod and I used to go into the pharmacy together, we'd find ways to try and avoid Sally -- especially if we were in a hurry. Sometimes, we'd just want to shop in peace. Sometimes, we might have even gone to a different place altogether. But... in Iowa, politeness reigns. If we failed avoiding her, we'd still listen to Sally. Conversation began to get so involved... that now we'd be telling Sally our own woes.

Sally knew when I had no job or when I was underemployed with few hours, or when we were sick; when we had many, many struggles. Sally has often given us career advice, and even advocated for us.

In 2010, a devastating flood of epic proportions (the last of it's kind seen 500 years ago), hit Iowa. It affected the resources and properties of many folk. Our town lost a lot of water mains and pipes, and the water supply became contaminated. The advice was: purchase water, and if you're poor, please go to these local water dispensing sites we've set up. The problem was the water dispensing sites were SO far away, we couldn't get to them. Buses weren't going by certain areas either, because of flooding. Rod and I bought what little water we could, but then had no money left over for actual food. (And you know, with type 2 diabetes that's being treated with only diet, that's a rough ride... you have to seriously mind your carbohydrate consumption and you just can't survive on ramen noodles like someone else with a working pancreas could.)

Local Target store's parking lot, during the floods of 2010

I don't recall why we were at the pharmacy that day... but Sally asked about our day, and how we were faring with the floods, and well... we told her our woes, as had become usual. Sally, as it turns out, had been worried about us. Sally took us to the Red Cross -- Sally got us more water, and Sally took us to the supermarket and bought us food. Sally had endeared herself to us. Her quirky little self got into our hearts. She still, would sometimes, annoy the crap out of us... but our appreciation for her glossed over all that stuff. The stuff of being ourselves, squeaky wheels and all.

I don't believe in a god... and I don't believe that 'god' is love. I believe that LOVE is God. I believe WE are 'God' to one another, when we are in need, and our humanity calls... and we respond with love. And that day, when we needed her most, Sally WAS 'God.' Sally helped us see another healthy tomorrow... and not struggle for today. Sally was also... our advocate. Sally KNEW we had type 2 diabetes... Sally RESPONDED to those needs. (WE can be patient advocates to ANYONE with a chronic illness, with their needs, ANY given day of the week. The opportunities are everywhere. Look for them. THIS is also part of advocacy. Being the glue that connects everything... when all else has failed.) 

Now... about a few weeks ago, I started noticing something wrong in my daily trips to the pharmacy. I really didn't see Sally as often, anymore, and she didn't seem as chatty as her usual self, anymore either. She seemed tired, and I thought to myself, "She looks like she's aging pretty fast; she looks a lot older than she was a month ago." (I didn't say anything.) I really had begun to MISS my daily encounters with Sally, and that daily inconvenience of having to stop and talk to her... while in a hurry to God knows where. "Maybe she's just cut back on hours," I had wondered... or maybe she's got a second job...  or maybe she was spending more time with visiting family. (She always spoke fondly of family far away -- or with annoyance -- depending on who the family member was. lol)

But today, walking home from work, I heard a voice yelling at me from a block behind "Why are you walking in such a hurry?! I can't catch up with you!" I stopped, and turned around. I saw it was Sally... and I got a little annoyed that I had to stop, and wait for her... It had been a pretty tiring day for me, and my carpal tunnel was worse for the wear. Sally lives a block from where I live, and she wanted to chat while we walked. Fine, I could entertain this.

She asked me about ME, first. How I was doing... how Rod was doing. How we were coping along with life. She pointed to her new hair cut... and how she wanted it shorter, for it's getting so fine these days, it's harder to style. I don't really care, but I politely listen anyway... (Ever the eternal Oscar the Grouch.) Then she gently eases into the topic... The chemotherapy has been really hard... and Sally can't manage it anymore. I am one of the special, chosen people in her world, that she has decided to tell... and no one else. Sally only has 4 months left to live.

I politely listen... offer my company... offer to spend time with her when she's stir-crazy at home, if anything. Sally can't drive anymore, which is just the same... because honestly, I still don't have a car. We can ride the bus together, she says. It'll be good. It'll be fun.

I offer to walk her all the way to her place, but she declines. I give her my cell phone number. We say our goodbyes, and I go home. I reach the bathroom, and undress. I break down and cry, and cry... and cry...

I don't know Sally's real name. I've never asked.