Thank God people don't actually read my blog because I'm sure there would be an outcrying over this post, complete with anoxeria nervosa specialist links attached to the outraged comments. Because these days, food is really overrated. This from a woman who lovingly plans complete semi-fancy dinners for the week cross-referencing her favorite recipes to what is on sale at the grocery store. I like to eat yummy food or at least, I USED to like to eat yummy food.
Now, I view food as a necessary, albeit very small part, of my life. Before any links for eating disorders get sent my way, this is not because I think I am fat (or was fat) though I have to admit I'm pretty happy that the little mommy gut I had collected along the way has shrinked measurably and on good days, has almost disappeared, especially if I'm standing up. But that has just been a nice by-product of what is really going on here.
Except I'm not quite sure exactly what is going on here. My stomach has been in knots for a while, leading to me getting ill when I do eat, especially if it's before 5pm. So, I choke down a low calorie protein drink in the morning (so I can work out) while I'm doing something else because if I'm not doing something else, I'll gag on it. Any solid foods in the morning come out immediately and I'm not saying anything more about that. Lunch consists of a protein bar if I'm can stay distracted enough to choke that down and dinner (since V. has been gone for almost a month) is a Weight Watchers dinner or some steamed shrimp. The weirdest thing for me, normally having a pretty healthy appetite, is that I am stuffed after these dinners.
So yeah, I've got grief and some stress to help explain this phenomenon but to be honest it's more than that. I eat only enough to not pass out, sustain a hard gym workout, and have enough of a foundation for nighttime vodka tonics after I. is safely asleep. Yes, I know it's not healthy, not even a little bit. But you know what, IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER. Better because I can control it, this in a world that is SO out of control for me right now. I like feeling the hunger pains because the physical pain makes me feel less guilty that I'm alive and Mark is not. I don't want to feel good right now because ultimately, it will make me feel bad. I can't do all the physical things I used to do to deal with my emotional anguish but I can feel the pain of hunger and it distracts me. I try to remember to take a vitamin with dinner so I'm not trying to do damage to myself, I'm just trying to make it through.
And while I'm not proud of myself and I may not be treating myself the very best that I could be, with V. gone and Mark dead and me trying to keep I. happy and my head above water each day as a single parent, it's the best I've got so for right now, it'll just have to do.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Tougher Day Than Expected
I don't know why I didn't think that today may evoke sad feelings for me. Today was Hunter's 1st birthday party and I. and I were looking forward to it all week. We went and picked out a couple of nice gifts and a card earlier this week and yesterday enjoyed wrapping everything up.
Then this morning it hit me. Mark wasn't going to get to celebrate Hunter's 1st birthday and it made me sad, very sad. Then Mark's eulogy song came on at the gym which made me miss him even more. The party was nice but it was over 100 degrees and we were outside so to say that we were miserably hot would be an understatement. I couldn't help but whisper in Hunter's ear as I held him, "I miss your daddy." because that's what kept repeating in my mind. Watching him eat his first cake, I know Mark would have enjoyed seeing it so much and part of me felt guilty that I was getting to see this when he was not.
So, it was a bittersweet day and will be a sad night. I miss Mark's smile, the way it would light up his whole face. I see it in my dreams, the good ones, that I have about him and it wakes me up warm and happy that I got to see him one more time, hang out with him one more time. But then it reminds me of how much I have lost with this one friendship and it makes me miss him even more.
Just when I thought it may be getting a little better this week, I'm back to where I was. I know this is a normal part of the grieving process but it was so nice not to be so sad, in pain, and either on the verge of tears or crying. I guess I should just look at it as a nice break and look forward to the next break down the road.
Then this morning it hit me. Mark wasn't going to get to celebrate Hunter's 1st birthday and it made me sad, very sad. Then Mark's eulogy song came on at the gym which made me miss him even more. The party was nice but it was over 100 degrees and we were outside so to say that we were miserably hot would be an understatement. I couldn't help but whisper in Hunter's ear as I held him, "I miss your daddy." because that's what kept repeating in my mind. Watching him eat his first cake, I know Mark would have enjoyed seeing it so much and part of me felt guilty that I was getting to see this when he was not.
So, it was a bittersweet day and will be a sad night. I miss Mark's smile, the way it would light up his whole face. I see it in my dreams, the good ones, that I have about him and it wakes me up warm and happy that I got to see him one more time, hang out with him one more time. But then it reminds me of how much I have lost with this one friendship and it makes me miss him even more.
Just when I thought it may be getting a little better this week, I'm back to where I was. I know this is a normal part of the grieving process but it was so nice not to be so sad, in pain, and either on the verge of tears or crying. I guess I should just look at it as a nice break and look forward to the next break down the road.
Friday, August 28, 2009
It Appears I'm Supporting King Abdullah Abdullah
That's gotta be an unusual posting title, I would imagine. But regardless, as I was processing bills for the next week, it appears that in fact, I AM SUPPORTING THE GOVERNMENT OF SAUDI ARABIA.
Why do I say this? Because I just looked at my credit card statement for the last 2 weeks and somehow I've racked up over $8500 in just a few days. Me, the person who doesn't spend money. How does this happen? Well, I'll tell you. It starts with a husband sent to DC, Holland, Germany, and then Saudi Arabia with a business credit card that somehow ceases to work so he starts charging on our PERSONAL credit card. Oh, it's reimbursable you say. Yeah, EVENTUALLY. Just got paid today and there wasn't one cent of reimbursement and this credit card is now due September 2nd. Jeez, think that may add some stress and aggravation to me?!
On top of it, I look at the details of the expenses and when V. calls me tonight, I ask him, "What the hell were those towelheads (pardon the slur, it is my fuckin personal credit card) riding in while they were in DC? Fucking Secret Service black Escalades?" because 2 days cost over $2500 in transportation costs. And you know what V. said? "Yes, that's exactly what they were riding in with dark, tinted windows."
Fucking Saudi Arabia, with our jacked up oil prices and I'm paying for them to ride around like they're fucking President Obama. On top of this, the company is mandating a 4 day furlough so we'll get a paycheck soon with 6 days of pay for 10 days of work PLUS this God forsaken project will not be done in November (or July as previously promised) but sometime next year so we'll just lose another year for our family. No big deal, right? To quote Tony Montana in Scarface, "You're all a bunch of fucking assholes."
Why do I say this? Because I just looked at my credit card statement for the last 2 weeks and somehow I've racked up over $8500 in just a few days. Me, the person who doesn't spend money. How does this happen? Well, I'll tell you. It starts with a husband sent to DC, Holland, Germany, and then Saudi Arabia with a business credit card that somehow ceases to work so he starts charging on our PERSONAL credit card. Oh, it's reimbursable you say. Yeah, EVENTUALLY. Just got paid today and there wasn't one cent of reimbursement and this credit card is now due September 2nd. Jeez, think that may add some stress and aggravation to me?!
On top of it, I look at the details of the expenses and when V. calls me tonight, I ask him, "What the hell were those towelheads (pardon the slur, it is my fuckin personal credit card) riding in while they were in DC? Fucking Secret Service black Escalades?" because 2 days cost over $2500 in transportation costs. And you know what V. said? "Yes, that's exactly what they were riding in with dark, tinted windows."
Fucking Saudi Arabia, with our jacked up oil prices and I'm paying for them to ride around like they're fucking President Obama. On top of this, the company is mandating a 4 day furlough so we'll get a paycheck soon with 6 days of pay for 10 days of work PLUS this God forsaken project will not be done in November (or July as previously promised) but sometime next year so we'll just lose another year for our family. No big deal, right? To quote Tony Montana in Scarface, "You're all a bunch of fucking assholes."
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Back to the Horrible Nightmares
After getting what apparently was a 1 day reprieve from starting the day off with crappy nightmares, this morning's was a doozy, complete with many different facets. In it, I was driving V. and I down the winding part of a local freeway (163) at night and I couldn't see very well. Things were just very fuzzy and my eyes kept closing. It was really scaring me because there were cars on the road and then I almost hit a CHP who had stopped a car on the side of the road. I knew he would call it in and they would be looking for me so I got off the freeway and started trying to take back roads to get home.
We ended up going up an almost 90 degree hill that leveled off to a patch of dirt. We got out and went inside this cropping of stones, like a mini Stonehenge and there was no one there. It was dark and eerie and we decided to leave but when we went to our car, a whole bunch of people drove up, parked and got it. It was mostly women and their daughters, older than I. maybe 6-8 years old, and they looked like they were getting ready for a dance recital of some sort. There was this ramshackle small house that they went into and we followed them in there. Lots of talking, lots of chaos, busyness, and fast movements as they unpacked their stuff. V. decided he wanted to leave but I wanted to stay and see what they were doing so he drove away in the car, leaving me there.
No one was really talking to me, I was just standing there watching, still in that drowsy, dizzy state when I realized there was a long hair hanging out of my mouth. I started pulling on it, and it kept coming out, until it was 2 feet long. The very end of this hair was attached to something brown and as I kept pulling it out, thick brown liquid started pouring out of my mouth and I was throwing this up for a long time. This freaked me out so I decided I wanted to leave but the people had hidden my purse and phone and it quickly became apparent to me that they were not going to allow me to leave and that things were going to go very badly, very quickly. I hid and finally found my phone, feeling drugged up and when V. finally answered, I told him that I wanted to leave and to come get me though I didn't know where I was. V. said in this irritated voice, "Oh, now finally you want to leave?" but agreed to meet me at some intersection that I thought was within walking distance.
I waited until everyone seemed busy and then started running down that steep hill but they saw me and the mob of women started running after me, screeching and screaming, and catching up to me. They were grabbing my arms, jumping on my back, and trying to stab me with syringes full of Thorazine and slapping drug patches on my neck. I pulled the patch off but still felt the instant effects of the drug which slowed me down a little. I grabbed the syringe and stabbed the woman in the neck with it. Just as I thought there was hope of escaping, I looked up to see another woman directly in front of me. She had this huge boulder in her hands, which she raised above her head and slammed onto the top of my head.
The last scene in this nightmare was this loud, angry mob carrying me over their shoulders back up that steep hill, my head covered with blood, dripping down my face, and me crying out over and over again that I just wanted to see V. and I.
I woke up, heart racing, emotions raw, feeling exhausted already and the day had just begun.
YUCK YUCK YUCK.
We ended up going up an almost 90 degree hill that leveled off to a patch of dirt. We got out and went inside this cropping of stones, like a mini Stonehenge and there was no one there. It was dark and eerie and we decided to leave but when we went to our car, a whole bunch of people drove up, parked and got it. It was mostly women and their daughters, older than I. maybe 6-8 years old, and they looked like they were getting ready for a dance recital of some sort. There was this ramshackle small house that they went into and we followed them in there. Lots of talking, lots of chaos, busyness, and fast movements as they unpacked their stuff. V. decided he wanted to leave but I wanted to stay and see what they were doing so he drove away in the car, leaving me there.
No one was really talking to me, I was just standing there watching, still in that drowsy, dizzy state when I realized there was a long hair hanging out of my mouth. I started pulling on it, and it kept coming out, until it was 2 feet long. The very end of this hair was attached to something brown and as I kept pulling it out, thick brown liquid started pouring out of my mouth and I was throwing this up for a long time. This freaked me out so I decided I wanted to leave but the people had hidden my purse and phone and it quickly became apparent to me that they were not going to allow me to leave and that things were going to go very badly, very quickly. I hid and finally found my phone, feeling drugged up and when V. finally answered, I told him that I wanted to leave and to come get me though I didn't know where I was. V. said in this irritated voice, "Oh, now finally you want to leave?" but agreed to meet me at some intersection that I thought was within walking distance.
I waited until everyone seemed busy and then started running down that steep hill but they saw me and the mob of women started running after me, screeching and screaming, and catching up to me. They were grabbing my arms, jumping on my back, and trying to stab me with syringes full of Thorazine and slapping drug patches on my neck. I pulled the patch off but still felt the instant effects of the drug which slowed me down a little. I grabbed the syringe and stabbed the woman in the neck with it. Just as I thought there was hope of escaping, I looked up to see another woman directly in front of me. She had this huge boulder in her hands, which she raised above her head and slammed onto the top of my head.
The last scene in this nightmare was this loud, angry mob carrying me over their shoulders back up that steep hill, my head covered with blood, dripping down my face, and me crying out over and over again that I just wanted to see V. and I.
I woke up, heart racing, emotions raw, feeling exhausted already and the day had just begun.
YUCK YUCK YUCK.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Stormy Weather
Well, it's as stormy as San Diego gets in August. Heard the raindrops and the wind blowing through the trees and retreated to the patio with some candles and my computer. The computer because I got an email from Jodi asking Brian and I to pick the song lyrics that should appear on Mark's headstone. It's going to be beautiful and since she narrowed down the band, I'm listening to different albums and reading the lyrics to see which one hits me as right.
As the wind moves through the trees, the rain stops and I realize just how much I don't want to be doing this. At first blush, it gives me something to do to keep distracted and occupied but eventually, the magnitude hits me that I'm helping design my best friend's headstone and I'm in the prime of my life. Well, before this I thought I was, now I'm not so sure. Mark's death shakes my foundations to the core - I felt youngish, thought I was youngish but he's dead and I saw it happen so how can I possibly believe that now?
I can feel this line of thinking leading to crawling the walls, pacing the patio so I am going to run quickly up to bed and read a book about a mother dealing with the confusing, challenging non-linear journey of grief. I read it and every 10 pages, a sentence jumps out at me and I repeat it to myself like a mantra and think "Yes" because it touches part of the wound inside of me.
Good night.
As the wind moves through the trees, the rain stops and I realize just how much I don't want to be doing this. At first blush, it gives me something to do to keep distracted and occupied but eventually, the magnitude hits me that I'm helping design my best friend's headstone and I'm in the prime of my life. Well, before this I thought I was, now I'm not so sure. Mark's death shakes my foundations to the core - I felt youngish, thought I was youngish but he's dead and I saw it happen so how can I possibly believe that now?
I can feel this line of thinking leading to crawling the walls, pacing the patio so I am going to run quickly up to bed and read a book about a mother dealing with the confusing, challenging non-linear journey of grief. I read it and every 10 pages, a sentence jumps out at me and I repeat it to myself like a mantra and think "Yes" because it touches part of the wound inside of me.
Good night.
Rain Clouds
Today's weather finally matches how I feel. Instead of brilliant sunshine, blue skies, and fluffy white clouds, it's overcast, dreary, and much cooler than it has been in months. I just realized that I smell rain and looking outside, there are some big fat drops on the ground. I hear thunder rumbling in the distance which is really rare around here and it sounds perfect to me. It's really soothing to have the outside match my insides for a change.
For the first time in over a month, I woke up this morning to a nice dream rather than a nightmare. In it a good friend of mine, with whom I was to have coffee with this morning (someone killed someone during the night and since he's the Homicide Lt., he had to take care of it, damn murderers!), was hugging me, saying how much he cared about me and loved me. Then all these neighbors, friends, and random people came to my door with little presents to show how sorry they were for my loss. I woke up feeling cared for and warm. Then I remembered reality (damn reality!) so I promptly pulled the sheet over my head and just lay there reliving my dream for a few minutes longer because it just felt so nice.
Now the weekend yawns in front of us with me scrambling to find ways to make it feel like a weekend rather than another weekday, as they usually do when V. is gone. You would think I would be better at this by now since he's been gone practically all the time for 9 months and I was before Mark died, it's just been since that I've been floundering. I'm thinking of calling Jodi and seeing if she wants to meet at Mark's favorite restaurant for lunch on Sunday. Monday afternoon, we're having a late lunch/early dinner at Mark's parents' house so I don't know if that's going to be too much. Plus, a playdate on Monday morning - ugh. Thus, my reluctance to book Sunday.
The rain is really coming down now. I love it. I feel like the summer rain clouds overhead - they really shouldn't be there because it's summer but they are, they're full of water, and they need to let it out, summertime or not. I'm looking forward to after I. goes to bed, to sit outside, smell the rain, and just be, me and the rainclouds.
For the first time in over a month, I woke up this morning to a nice dream rather than a nightmare. In it a good friend of mine, with whom I was to have coffee with this morning (someone killed someone during the night and since he's the Homicide Lt., he had to take care of it, damn murderers!), was hugging me, saying how much he cared about me and loved me. Then all these neighbors, friends, and random people came to my door with little presents to show how sorry they were for my loss. I woke up feeling cared for and warm. Then I remembered reality (damn reality!) so I promptly pulled the sheet over my head and just lay there reliving my dream for a few minutes longer because it just felt so nice.
Now the weekend yawns in front of us with me scrambling to find ways to make it feel like a weekend rather than another weekday, as they usually do when V. is gone. You would think I would be better at this by now since he's been gone practically all the time for 9 months and I was before Mark died, it's just been since that I've been floundering. I'm thinking of calling Jodi and seeing if she wants to meet at Mark's favorite restaurant for lunch on Sunday. Monday afternoon, we're having a late lunch/early dinner at Mark's parents' house so I don't know if that's going to be too much. Plus, a playdate on Monday morning - ugh. Thus, my reluctance to book Sunday.
The rain is really coming down now. I love it. I feel like the summer rain clouds overhead - they really shouldn't be there because it's summer but they are, they're full of water, and they need to let it out, summertime or not. I'm looking forward to after I. goes to bed, to sit outside, smell the rain, and just be, me and the rainclouds.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The Week
I guess I must have used up all my words on the trifecta posts of Sunday because I haven't had anything to blog about since then. Maybe that's not exactly accurate. It's not that I haven't had anything to blog about, it's just that I didn't have the words.
I had my therapist appointment on Monday, causing me to face emotions, anxieties, and sad thoughts I had stuffed down in order to make it through the days as a quasi-single parent of a 3.5 year old. Dealing with all this led to a harrowing, long night with me pacing around until 12:30 am until I finally was able to settle down and go to bed. So much anger, sadness, despair, and loss being faced all at one time.
I think that the worst emotion that is the root of all the other emotions is loss. Loss. LOSS. Loss of a friend with whom I knew and was known intimately, one that I had 11 years of important, life changing history during some really formulative years. That history now cannot be shared with anyone since I'm the only one left standing to talk about it. Loss because I'll never have the opportunity to have a friendship like that - those days are gone now and never will come again.
These days and nights are dichotomous - I'm exhausted but I can't sleep well, I'm starving but I can't eat. Basically I get through the days by sheer concentration on I. and get through the nights through sheer determination which at times feels like I'm scratching my nails on a chalkboard for hours. There are things that piss me off during the day that I don't realize until they come back to me at night to be processed. The latest, irrational (and probably self-centered) thing that has been pissing me off is when people seem to pass right over my grief but are sure to ask how Jodi is with this sympathetic, hushed tone. I feel like screaming, "Yes, I realize that I was ONLY his FRIEND and not his WIFE but she was his wife for 3 years and he was my closest friend for 11 years and I know things about him that even she doesn't know!" That makes it sound like it's a competition which it isn't and I understand that Mark and I weren't planning a life in the future together which is a HUGE thing but the fact remains that we had a special, one of a kind friendship that other people cannot even BEGIN to understand and I'll be DAMNED if my grief is discounted and passed over.
As you can see, I'm really not fit for human consumption right now thus an idea I had for a t-shirt. The front of it would read "My best friend is dead." and the back would say "Any questions? Good! Now GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" Seriously, I'm really considering it because I know just having that shirt and wearing it even if it was around the house would make me feel better. And in these early days of grieving, even feeling a little better would be well worth it.
I had my therapist appointment on Monday, causing me to face emotions, anxieties, and sad thoughts I had stuffed down in order to make it through the days as a quasi-single parent of a 3.5 year old. Dealing with all this led to a harrowing, long night with me pacing around until 12:30 am until I finally was able to settle down and go to bed. So much anger, sadness, despair, and loss being faced all at one time.
I think that the worst emotion that is the root of all the other emotions is loss. Loss. LOSS. Loss of a friend with whom I knew and was known intimately, one that I had 11 years of important, life changing history during some really formulative years. That history now cannot be shared with anyone since I'm the only one left standing to talk about it. Loss because I'll never have the opportunity to have a friendship like that - those days are gone now and never will come again.
These days and nights are dichotomous - I'm exhausted but I can't sleep well, I'm starving but I can't eat. Basically I get through the days by sheer concentration on I. and get through the nights through sheer determination which at times feels like I'm scratching my nails on a chalkboard for hours. There are things that piss me off during the day that I don't realize until they come back to me at night to be processed. The latest, irrational (and probably self-centered) thing that has been pissing me off is when people seem to pass right over my grief but are sure to ask how Jodi is with this sympathetic, hushed tone. I feel like screaming, "Yes, I realize that I was ONLY his FRIEND and not his WIFE but she was his wife for 3 years and he was my closest friend for 11 years and I know things about him that even she doesn't know!" That makes it sound like it's a competition which it isn't and I understand that Mark and I weren't planning a life in the future together which is a HUGE thing but the fact remains that we had a special, one of a kind friendship that other people cannot even BEGIN to understand and I'll be DAMNED if my grief is discounted and passed over.
As you can see, I'm really not fit for human consumption right now thus an idea I had for a t-shirt. The front of it would read "My best friend is dead." and the back would say "Any questions? Good! Now GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" Seriously, I'm really considering it because I know just having that shirt and wearing it even if it was around the house would make me feel better. And in these early days of grieving, even feeling a little better would be well worth it.
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