Archive for the The Journey Category

Today was a busy, busy day. And when I am busy, I generally feel stressed. It’s like this, I’m working along, doing what needs to be done and then suddenly, the Stress Badger jumps on my back, clamps onto my neck and growls. I hate the stress Badger. She’s very annoying.

So I take deep breaths. I put some lavender essential oil on my hands and inhale. I make little “oohm” noises under my breath. And the Stress Badger whispers, “Ice cream.” And then I start the cycle of inward chatter, will I or won’t I? Today I did not. But on the way home I stopped by my least favorite store to pick up sugar free chocolate and they didn’t have any. Now, for some folks this might not be a big deal. For me, it was catastrophic. For 30 minutes I walked back and forth down the aisle trying to find where they might have hidden it, all the while biting my nails and shivering. Evidently the store got the bright idea to re-work the candy aisle and, *gasp* removed all of the sugar free candy.

So I went to customer service to inquire. Maybe someone would see the desperation in my face and have mercy on me and go to the back and find me some. I know it’s sitting on a pallet back there, right? But alas, they told me to come back tomorrow. As if I’m normal and I’ll accept that response. Que the time Sam’s Club ran out of my sugar free gum and I stood crying at the desk about how I will DIE without it. And one of the ladies scrambled to the back and found me some. Bless her. But that was not the case today. My least favorite store snubbed me, and I am forever chaffed.

I drove home slowly as the Stress Badger dug her teeth into my shoulder muscles and growled some more. And I remembered that I recently purchased chocolate to make homemade brownies(to replace those I stole from my children while they stayed with Grandma). Suddenly my brain was lit on fire with the longing for soft and chewy brownies. And I began to salivate and sigh. And then I remembered that I am attending my 25 year high school reunion this weekend and there is no possible way I’m going to start gobbling brownies and gain 10 pounds before I see my old buddies.

So here I sit.

Writing a blog entry.

Not eating brownies.

Or sugar free chocolate.

Or ice cream.

With a Stress Badger chewing on my neck.

It’s times like these where I just want to run up to strangers, give them the Three Stooges Eye Doink of Death, and then run away laughing hysterically. The things I would do for entertainment if they were socially acceptable!

But seriously. Sometimes I have to learn how to function without my comfort snacks. It is in these moments that I (shockingly) realize the world will not end if I don’t satisfy my cravings.

I write all of this to illustrate that living a healthy lifestyle is not for the faint of heart. One must make difficult decisions, face emotional hangups, and find a way to deftly remove the iron jaws of the Stress Badger without food. Tonight I will accomplish this by finishing a book, (Laddie by Gene Stratton Porter) and drinking hot tea, and maybe crying. Because sometimes life is hard and there are no easy answers. And maybe I should write something holy and prayerful but I just don’t have it in me today. I’m tired. And the best thing I can do is keep it simple, and just go to bed.

I love good days. Good days are like rainbows—they refresh and renew, delight and inspire. On good days I can run and laugh and smile and make stupid jokes nobody laughs at. Yesterday was a very good day. And then there was…

Today.

Today I feel like all the Mondays of the whole year joined forces and morphed into the biggest, stinkiest, ugliest Monday there ever was. (It’s Thursday by the way) That’s what dealing with chronic depression/pain is like. Every day has the ability to be a Monday.

The grody Monday Monster isn’t satisfied unless it wallops me completely. Which is how I found myself laying on the floor of my cubicle moaning. (okay, that didn’t actually happen but it felt that way) I realize I should have done something inspiring like read an encouraging scripture passage, pray, or walk the stairs to get my adrenaline pumping. Instead I went to lunch with a friend and complained.

You can’t see me but I’m shaking my head. Epic failure.

Now I know what you’re thinking… (bet you didn’t know I’m a Swami, did you? Wish you could see me wriggling my eyebrows to evoke an air of mystery).

“Margaret, we all need to vent. Just go on and let it all out there. Air those feelings. Feel them and then exhale them. The more you let them out the better you’ll feel.”

That looks good on paper but in practice it’s terrible. Because the moment we start droning on about what’s wrong with our lives, the more we infect others with our misery. Also, complaining elicits bad advice from people who can’t solve your problem—which only compounds the problem and makes you and the person frustrated when you reject their advice. About half-way through my gripe-fest I realized how impossible I was behaving and began talking about things I am grateful for. My friend said, “Look at you! Way to turn it around!” And then I smiled and we parted ways, and I wept.

I wish “venting” helped. It doesn’t. I wish being grateful helped. It doesn’t. Sometimes the big stinky Monday Monster wins and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Now that I’ve spilled the milk and cried over it…

It’s time for ice cream.

And cookies.

And, rats. Wait a minute. If I give in to food lust I’ll be depressed AND fat. If I’m fat I’ll feel even worse because I’ll have to go shopping for new clothes(and I loathe shopping). And if I have to buy new clothes I’ll have to spend money I don’t have, which means going into debt, etc. etc.

Geez. Is there any winning against the Monday Monster of Madness?

These are the thoughts I wrestle with every day I feel like a gutter sludge-sickle.

But guess what? There’s hope!

When the Monday Monster starts slurping and slobbering all over my wimpy resolve, I remember that I still have a few secret weapons in my arsenal. One of them is…

Humor

I was doing crunches the other morning(that’s abdominal work for all you non-workout folks). I like crunches because they make me feel like Jillian Michaels(until I stand up). While I’m on the mat crunching away I’m thinking, “Margaret, you are so rocking this ab workout. You are STRONG. You are MIGHTY. You are too awesome for words.” And then after my workout I was walking through my house and realized my belly was swaying side to side, and not in the most flattering of ways.

When one loses an immense amount of weight, the skin does not return to its smooth and youthful vigor. It sags. It lumps. It curdles like cottage cheese. Which is why I started crunching in the first place. I thought ab work would eliminate the wobbly belly. Nope. Surprise, surprise! The television commercials all lie!

But instead of moping about because of the jiggly belly, I realized that some people will never experience the free flowing gladness of misshapen tummy trembles. Sadly, they will go through life slender and sleek, convinced that the six pack ab look is the penultimate achievement in physical perfection. They will hear the cry of their stomach and endure agony upon torturous hunger pang all the while missing out on the blessed, billowing belly of bliss.

And for some reason that struck me as both sad and incredibly funny. So I began walking around my house trying to perfect what I now call, “The Trendy Tummy Sway”. And my children were dutifully horrified and I was pleasantly proud. Because it takes a special gait and body type to perfect, and I–my friends–am now the ultimate TTS master.

So today when the Monday Monster started snacking on my resolve today, instead of eating ice cream, I decided to demonstrate the Trendy Tummy Sway in public. I strutted down corridors and aisles with the finesse of a runway model. I strolled and strutted. I sexy-pouted and swayed. And you know what I learned? Evidently, nobody really notices the TTS but me. But it was certainly fun to amuse myself and it did snuff out my food cravings completely.

Today if you are above ground,

if you are breathing,

if you are cross-eyed or lacking limbs,

if you are bulbous or bony,

…you are capable of laughter.

And so when I socked the Monday Monster in the eye with laughter, he dissolved into a puddle, just like the Wicked Witch of the West. And then I Trendy Tummy Swayed all over and sighed. Because even when my body is not happy, my heart can be.

There is a certain person in my life that makes me crazy. Let’s call her Annoying Nelly for the sake of anonymity. I know for certain she does not read this blog so I am totally safe! Phew. Now that’s out of the way, hop on! I’m about to go off.

Now let me say from the outset that I love Nelly. And not in a casual, “Oh, I just LOVE that outfit on you!” kind of way I’ve known her for a good many years and we are pretty solidly committed to our friendship. Sure, we’ve done each other wrong on occasion, but for some reason or other, we always come back around to making a go at being buddies. But recently her shenanigans have irked me to no end and so this morning, after a night spent tossing and turning with heartburn caused by a recent relational commotion, I decided I was done with her for good this time. It was finally time to give Nelly the “bye-bye boot”!

So while I was riding my bike, I was working out our break-up conversation. It went something like this,

Me: “You suck at being my friend.”

Nelly: “Right back atcha, you big Nerd.”

Me: “I’d rather eat grub worms than look at your veiny face any longer.”

Nelly: “I’m vain because I’m actually beautiful, unlike SOME people.”

Me: “I said vein, not vain.”

Nelly: “Ugh. You disgust me. Get out of my face.”

Me: “Fine!”

Nelly: “Fine!

Now the dear read must understand that Nelly is the Queen Cheese, and I’m not talking cheddar(because that would be an offense to cows the world over). Nelly is never (admittedly) wrong and her arrogance often defies reason. For example, when I ask for a smidgeon of kindness because my nose hair is malfunctioning, she balks. But should the corns on her big toe flare up, Dear God in Heaven, she will moan so loudly the moon shouts at her to shut up. And God forgive the sun for daring to shine on her suffering. But this barely skims the iceberg(why not mix and match clichés?). If given the option, I’m 98% certain she would boil live crabs to consume them AND mutilate baby’s breath in order to put them in something as ghastly as a vase. As if people actually want to watch decapitated flowers die a slow and painful death. (And if the dear reader knew how flagrant her use of the word chigger while camping in the woods, one would know how grievous her sins truly are, but I digress).

So between murdering flowers and properly identifying skin feasting insects, she diverged to invite me to an event to which I was not inclined to attend. And when I not-so-kindly responded, “I don’t want to attend but if you say I must, I suppose I must,” she said, “Tough noogies! Be there or be rare(because everybody who’s anyone will be there and that makes them common and you not-so-much)”.

So while I was dragging my sore nose follicles around my admittedly never-clean-house, I sighed. Because when I’m frustrated, I exhale a lot, as if heavy breathing will get me out of events I am not inclined to attend. So my husband said, “If you don’t want to go, don’t go.” But then I considered Nelly and her purplish, perpendicular-pursed lips, and in my heart-of-shriveled-hearts I knew that was not really an option.

Which is how we ended up seated at a table shooting dagger-cicles at each other with our optical orbs and consuming vast quantities of an unnamed beverage(okay, mine was water, hers not so much). And while we left the event with nary an unkind word, it was abundantly clear that we despised the ground the other pummeled with her feet and were destined to be ex best friends forever.

Because really, who eats fried chicken AND mashed potatoes AND macaroni and cheese AND corn bread muffins and retains their figure in a 40+ environment? Did I mention that I hate her (cholesterol saturated) guts?

So while I was working out our friend-busting dialogue in my brain, I heard the following verses through my earbuds via my ESV audio Bible(recorded by David Cochran Heath!).

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you.” – Gospel of John 15:12-14

And somewhere in those few lines it felt implied that if I broke up with Annoying Nelly, I would somehow be snubbing the friendship of God.

Gulp.

Cue the epic pout.

And after I was done pouting(while watching out for loose lightning bolts to shoot out of the sky and fry me like a mosquito at a bug zapper), I decided to ask God to help me love my friend instead. And while love is decidedly more difficult and not nearly as hilarious to write about, it is certainly a more worthwhile endeavor.

If you are struggling with a difficult friend today, take heart! You are not alone. And while there are a million reasons why you should break up with that person, and most of those are verifiably disgusting and abhorrently true, you are brave and beautiful if you do not. While I am learning the discipline of loving and forgiving the Annoying Nellies of the world, I am creatively conscious of the Very Good Friend who keeps no record of (my) wrongs and who has lovingly commanded me to go forth and do the same. And maybe this is what it means to lay down my own life (my will, my desires, my freedoms) in order to love Annoying Nelly. And here I’ll be completely candid, it really does feel like dying a thousand a little deaths over and over again, but when I consider that my VGF is a giver of life, laying down this Nerd body becomes less of a burden and more of a great and wonderful joy.