toxicity in food and relationships

I’ve got a lot of shallow and deep thoughts running through my attention deficit mind today and I’m going to attempt to share… although I suspect that it won’t make much sense.

My pants are too big. I love that. I’ll love it more when they’re size 10 and too big instead of size 18 and too big… but it’s still progress. I am fairly sure I’ll have a pound or two loss tomorrow – mostly due to the fact that I had a gain two weeks ago and didn’t have an official weigh in last week. I haven’t made huge strides this week on the scale but the inches are really apparent (at least to me). I’m entrenched… even with the birthday cake last Saturday, I’m still melting away.

Speaking of melting…I read a blog entry that really made me melt today… out of compassion… understanding… the desire to reach thru the screen and give this young lady a hug. She was open and vulnerable about a relationship in her life that was unhealthy for her… and yet she has continued in it. I’ve written a lot of those type of blog entries… those of you who have been around for awhile can attest to that. It’s interesting to me that people who tend to have unhealthy physical habits also have unhealthy emotional habits. It’s like… they’re (we’re) immersed in toxicity. Addicted to it, I suppose. Unaware of how to live any other way.

I told her what I tell myself often... she’s worth SOOOO much more.

It’s a hard row to hoe… this single life. It can be desperately lonely at times. There’s no one else to help pick up the messes… pay the bills… share a meal… share a joke. It’s an enormous responsibility, being responsible for yourself all alone. If you don’t do it… it won’t get done. If you don’t entertain yourself, you won’t be entertained. If it wasn’t for Farmville and Facebook and TCM and the library… I’d be bored out of my skull. I’m the only person in my life responsible for my own happiness, security, peace of mind, etc. BUT… I’d still rather be alone than with the wrong person and miserable. That’s a whole different kind of loneliness… that aching to connect, to make things right, to find security, to have to read between the lines of the things they say and wonder if they’re really working late or violating the commitment you made to each other. My kind of alone is manageable… it’s only impacted by me. No one else has my permission to make me feel bad.

On rare occasions I extend myself beyond my safe boundaries and attempt to interact with the 3 dimensional people. Sometimes it’s great… sometimes it reminds me of why I’m such a lonely old cat lady. The cats are always glad to see me. My kids… eh… they suffer through their obligatory visits but they certainly don’t think, “gosh, it would be great to go hang out with mom”. It’s a weird thing, this empty nesting as a single person.

I had a great talk with a young man whose mom has recently (about the same time as me) gone thru a heartbreaking marital breakup due to infidelity. Initially, he stayed with his dad because mom was so off the charts angry and bitter that she was unbearable to live with. He’s astonished at how different she is now from where she was then. I’m glad they found their way back to each other… he’s her only child… she has lost a lot. We all process loss differently. Sometimes we isolate ourselves to insulate ourselves. (and that we, in that sentence refers to me). Some people need to be isolated until they learn to process their anger. I came across his mom while she was in the midst of her intense bitterness and offended her a bit by saying, “you’re going to have to forgive him to be able to move on”. I know… “Miss Pot… Ms. Kettle thinks you’re black”… she’s come a long way and it’s making a huge difference in her life. Their lives. My kids drifted away during the Darby Invasion and never returned. Their new reality is exclusive of a need for me… yet mine also is exclusive of the need for anyone else to make me feel complete, fulfilled, purposeful.

It’s like eating meat… I have it rarely and only when it’s the best quality available. When I have it… it’s good and I appreciate it… but I don’t go hungry without it.
I’ve come a long way, baby… and not by smoking Virginia Slims. But I still avoid toxicity in my life by restricting access to my life. I have a low tolerance for BS. When the warning light comes on that disappointment is on the way, I retreat. End of story. I’m not going to compete for attention. I’m not going to suffer with pining for anyone who doesn’t make me a priority. Maybe one day I’ll boldly push forward into the flashing red lights again… not yet. I know myself well enough to know that sugar is toxic to me… it makes me eat… and disappointment is toxic to me… so I avoid them both.

And so this young lady… who has been enormously successful in remaking her body… is now taking steps to remake her heart by eliminating this toxic situation. And it’s hard… it hurts… she’s suffering and I just want to tell her to hang on, stand firm, be bold, realize that the healing may be tough but the being healed is wonderful. She is worth it. She deserves better than being lied to, taken for granted, not getting someone’s whole heart… like me. I only deserve the best and if the best isn’t available, then I’ll do without for now.

When I can’t afford the good chicken… the kind without hormones or antibiotics… I just don’t eat chicken.

I was praying the other day (aka “whining before the Lord”) about my loneliness. I told Him how unfair it is and how there are so many really mean people who have someone to share their life with and yet here I am this really incredibly sweet person J who loves with such completeness and who is capable of truly enhancing the life of someone and I’m all by myself and lonesome. God spoke to my heart clearly and definitively and said, “get healthy. He’s waiting”.

And so I told God, “apparently my imagination is running away again, because I apparently imagined that you said to get healthy first”.

So he repeated Himself to me. You know, like we do for kids who are not listening. “I SAID….” Only he didn’t have to speak in caps for me. I heard Him. I knew what He meant.

Weight, schmeight. It doesn’t matter from the standpoint of making me loveable to the right person. Michael Darby needed an excuse for being an insensitive, uncaring jerk and philanderer. My weight was the easiest target. The low hanging fruit, so to speak. Oh… and the mental instability that his abuse created in my life. That was a great reason to abandon a relationship… attempt to make a person crazy and then leave them because you were successful.

I know that I am worthy of love at any size but give my best to people when I’m at a healthy size. And that is my deepest desire… leave it to God to ferret it out and present it to me… I want whatever relationship I have for the rest of my life to be my best. I want to give it my best, I want to get the best from it. I want to be strong – both mentally and physically. And spiritually. Because I don’t want any more junk in my life… food or feelings.

Weird how it all ties in together, isn’t it? Or is it just me?

It's lunch time. Yabba dabbo do will be here before long!!!