<![CDATA[Rebecca Cook - What She Says]]>Mon, 18 Sep 2017 05:26:30 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[monday monday]]>Mon, 18 Sep 2017 10:30:01 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/monday-mondaygood morning and again i say rejoice.

i think it will be a good day with not much in it, not much required of me. why is this so often a relief when i hated the idea of being up here again, sitting in this chair, frittering away the day.

and i am up here again. and i'm not breaking free. into the water, no. into the cafe to write, no. or read. or walk to the sculpture garden or along the river. or be thou onto lunch with a friend.

how is it that i have become so fond of being alone? when did it become necessary?

and to write, perchance to be brave.

i have been decluttering and organizing. it is hard but it is also good. but as with everything i must needs not to overdo and get rid of everything.

i need to stop buying two or three of things, the backup, the just in case.
i need to shake loose the idea that there will never be enough. there is already enough.

my goals for each day have been to eat no sugar and to move. eating no sugar is going well, but the movement, just getting into the water...why won't i just do it as victory says?

this is not because i do not want to. but that is it also. there have only been a few times in my life that i have really committed to exercise. and these have been, overall, brief.

but when i was young, and didn't think about. i rode my bike. i walked through the woods. i did a walk-a-thon barefoot.

inside this day i will read for EFM and attend EFM. i will eat a simple sandwich for lunch. maybe also eat a banana. and eat ice i know i will. and sugar i will not. and eat my last meal by four. (i feel ever so perfect in the morning if i don't eat at night.)

and read for ministry class coming up this weekend. and contemplate the workings of god. our lord large looms above me.

~r.



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<![CDATA[a little bit of echo]]>Sat, 16 Sep 2017 12:27:26 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/a-little-bit-of-echoactually, a lot of echo. all this time, this last year or months or couple of years i'm not sure, i've heard the characters speaking in my head, i've heard the openings of poems and stories and essays. i've stopped and started and stopped. and wished. but the drive the hot blue the desparate need to write it all record it shape it love it, has receded. i have gone for long stretches without writing before. then i despaired and developed and swelled up, like a pimple, before it all came rushing out. now? no despair. this is more disturbing, except i am not disturbed. perhaps i have really switched to god's work. or assignments. like the star trek essay for the reading.

or maybe i just don't want to write anymore. it's okay if i don't.

or maybe it's having "landed" an agent. perhaps this has ruined me. like my semesters of poetry getting my MFA damaged me. i couldn't write poems for a long time, or a while. who remembers? and i was depressed, disturbed. my lowest point. who knows?

but i will blog again. it is something.

and submit if i can stand it.

and teaching is wonderful this fall. my students are amazing.

here's to a good day with no bad dreams in it or flu malaise muscles sore or feet too much. 

~r.


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<![CDATA[long time no]]>Tue, 12 Sep 2017 09:59:56 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/long-time-noso long since i've been here. it's been rocky? maybe not. hard to tell.

but not much has happened.....not so. i am preaching now. i preached on mother's day and on the sunday before labor day. i have a year to go before i get my "license" but it does feel right and bizarre and very wrong to preach.

and i can straighten my leg now. still not doing the "exercises" on a regular basis, or hitting the pool. and i've gained about forty pounds since the surgery back in december. this is causing pain in my joints and making the fibro worse.

i have begun treatment for my eating disorder. i have long known that i need this treatment and my binging has gotten so bad--binging mostly on sugar. 

now i'm on the 2 goals a day plan--eat no sugar and move. this is helping.

i have kept it in the road for almost 2 weeks.

the biggest danger is that i will take all the advice and counsel from the food coach and kim and be perfect perfect camper of the week and then just stop and start binging again. so i need to take it very slow.

but the pain......at least i'm not having ibs stuff. and i'm eating things i love. except sugar, which recedes.

the light is going and i'm so glad. i don't recall feeling this way....at least not for a very long time. but i have always loved the change of time, when it gets dark at five-thirty. and morning comes when it should.

i would like to focus on writing, but other than the sermons, i haven't written much. sermons certainly count. and i did write an essay for a reading i did a few weeks back.

i seem to move from obsession to obsession. first it was clothes--capsule wardrobe. now it's tidying and organizing. 

and always food. my body my body who is seeing me?

and i must mention that on the mental health front i have made great strides--when i start to mire up in my pain or in my loud head or my whatever, i say "no need for trauma drama." or i say "stop!"

and i'm determined to be independent now, more often. to do everything i can on my own. but this right knee is going down fast. but i will put it off as long as possible.

​-r.








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<![CDATA[i did do]]>Wed, 31 May 2017 11:25:33 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/i-did-do
the beach. and disappointed with the beach. sort of. i don't have the strength in my knees to stand in strong waves, or the sand that sucked at my feet. i ended up sitting in the sand and letting the waves crash over me. the water was too cold. there wasn't much sun. dale wouldn't go in with me because he does not like the water. and i, i must admit, didn't like it in my mouth or in my eyes and i think i may be a lake girl, at least until i am strong again. whenever that will be.

we had gone down to Florida for a family reunion (dale's side). and it was a pleasant time. the pillows at the Hilton were so bad i had to buy some of my own. the bed wasn't great either. it had a little knob on each side where you could adjust the firmness. right.

we got room service our first night, after the ten hour drive (bad traffic). and we had free breakfast every morning at the hotel, which was very good. and now i know that whenever you book a room at the Hilton (probably anywhere), you must request a free breakfast and you will get it.

there was a family dinner and then an auction and that was fun. we bought all sorts of silly stuff. we took dale's dad and his brother to lunch, seaside. and we bought gifts in little seaside shop.

and the beach was very cool, old-fashioned, like something from an old movie. i just wish i'd enjoyed the water more.

but it was good to get out of town, just me and dale. we don't do this often enough and we are going to be doing it MORE often, i swear. there are some things i can make happen.

​~r.


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<![CDATA[where does it go?]]>Tue, 09 May 2017 13:34:42 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/where-does-it-goperhaps it is getting older, or being "retired," or perhaps we are spinning faster and not everyone has realized it, but time is whizzing past. it's been well over a month since i posted here and i feel like it was a couple weeks ago.

i am recovering, the knee is better and better. but it hurts and i figure it will always do. to some degree.

i have stopped doing my home exercises, rather i have stopped doing them most of the time, every day as i should. i want to get back on track. i want to but the doing is difficult especially as the exercises seemed to aggravate my knee and i kept overdoing. i hurt my knee swimming. bother.

and speaking of swimming, i haven't been in the water and my excuse is that we were all sick and i had hurt my knee and, and, and. really. i think it is the Y. parking is awful if you don't get there at the right time. is that enough to keep me from going? and it's all the way downtown. but Chattanooga is very small and the difference between getting to the Y and getting to my old gym is only about five minutes. is it that it's so large? my old gym was tiny and mostly filled with old folks. i've seen quite a few hard woman's bodies on display at the Y. does that bother me?

this happens every time i join the Y so i must dislike it very much, at the least.

but i won't berate myself. i will concentrate on the good things, my accomplishments, not my shortcomings, my "sins." To sin is to miss the mark. I so often miss the mark.

i think that if i'd allow myself to creep forward.....shoot for once a week at the Y. or wherever.

and read a bit each day. or every other day. or once a week. work through a book slowly. we are doing so much reading for EFM. i do it all in one day mostly, and it takes over three hours.

i see myself, want to see myself as the sort of person who has a routine that doesn't feel like a routine. i see myself as the sort of person who moves all day. i'm going to look up that old rhyme about what to do each week--Saturday is for baking, Monday is for washing, etc., etc.

i want to be productive. and that is most likely the problem. productive. i'll get more done if i look at everything as fun.. fun. every day is an opportunity for fun.

i give my first sermon Sunday. i am reconciled to the fact that i will be a bit more nervous every day. it will all be well. in a bit i will go over to church and pick out my "frock." ha ha.

we bought a new car, a new "used" car. a kia sorento. i miss the responsiveness of my murano, but this car is very nice. the moon roof enough is worth it. almost the entire roof is glass. and it's so shaded that we can have the screen pulled back most of the day. i haven't driven with it open very much so far. and the front seats are heated AND cooled. the seats are all leather, unlike the murano which had leather toppers. i can talk to the thing and it does what i tell it to do, i.e. play the cd, change the radio station, call a certain someone. and i used the navigation saturday, for the first time ever. i never used it in the murano.

but i have a big guilt. we signed a paper when we traded in the murano saying that as far as we knew there was nothing wrong with the car. this was not true. but there is the infernal justification that the dealership should have looked at the horse's teeth before they bought it. if they had hooked it up to the computer/diagnostic thing the car would have thrown a code. but they didn't. they just drove it around the lot. which worries me because this place is known for selling cars to people who have bad credit and are maybe desperate enough to sign up for a twenty-eight percent loan, and maybe this dealership just doesn't fix the car and maybe the person who bought it doesn't buy a warranty and and and and...

the whole thing makes my chest tight but no one i've fretted with feels the same. perhaps it is the lie itself.

yes, Rhett, i am like the thief who is sorry to be caught, but not sorry to have done the stealing. what we did we did and we can't undo it now.

i will see Father Zack in a little while. i think we will pray together.

blat this anxiety. this chest full of bees. this thousand ton mare sitting on my chest, biting my ear. she's a real pill and i cannot loosen. my toes curl. my jaw is sore.

i feel stymied. but i'm going out to buy mother's day cards for all the mother's i know. the sun is shining full force. we are having the first spring we've had in years. 

i am having allergy fits.

i keep grabbing up sugary pastries.

ten pounds makes a whole world of difference.

my hamstrings are too tight.

my bangs are too short.

life is pretty good.

`r.


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<![CDATA[path of silence]]>Sat, 18 Mar 2017 15:20:38 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/path-of-silencePicture
mindfulness. i have resisted this all my life, very suspicious of it, having the idea that i would become so calm, lose my drive, my verve.

turns out, this is exactly what i need. 

driven behavior. self-induced anxiety and stress. off the hook excitement. these cost me too much. the price is high anxiety, the mood roller coaster.

mindfulness. breath. slowness. in the momentness. tapping into the fuzzy orange body of God and breathing.


and a big part of this will be structuring my life. most elusive thing. i am resistant to structure, always have been. i love the idea of it. i made a chart when i was in high school, already struggling with this idea.

life should be spontaneous, shouldn't it? fly by the seat of her pants, you know?

but it is crazy making.

i need to get back to volunteering. but do i want to? the nursing home again? i just don't want to do anything that regular......only an hour a week....seriously.

i have an hour a week. yes. but am i willing to do it?

the hardest thing now is knowing that if i do go to the nursing home and get all chirked up singing and interacting, i will likely crash as soon as i get to the car.
this happens when i go to social functions.
when i have conversations.
whenever i get excited....boom....anxiety....mood dropping and dropping and flying up above the clouds caught in the earth's gravity.
the endless orbit.

i must find my way through this. perhaps a better place to start is to go on gentle walks with people i know need friend time and would like it with me. not a great commitment, but a gentle kindness. the movement should help me stay calm.

mindfulness. it's saturday.

please no saturday disease today.

love and many kisses,
 
`r.

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<![CDATA[the ideal]]>Thu, 16 Mar 2017 11:39:41 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/the-idealPicture
a few better days. better knowing and understanding, grounding.

and yet i sit here nutting up, waiting to worship and meditate. until james is gone for the morning. and i've told Ro no interruptions.

i have the tv on as i write this, attention divided.

i had my hair did yesterday. this always helps the mood.

i am doing better, making progress, knowing when enough is enough. learning my own signals.

sunday evening, ro, net, dale, and i played our weekly game of pandemic legacy. when we were finished i had the impulse to keep on socializing, but it was making me crazed inside and i said, i'm overstimulated, i have to be alone. so i scooted into my blue room and decompressed, alone and content.

last night we went to classes at st. paul's. afterward, i got more excited the more i talked. but when it was time for bed, i went upstairs and prepared for sleeping and calmed down as dale read the horse and his boy to me. he is reading the chronicles of narnia to me. a very calm way to slip into sleep.

i have also made a decision about my eating. i've been having a difficult time, unable to maintain my weight, obsessing over sugar and food in general. obsessing over my fitness pal and polar flow. so yesterday i did the bravest thing i could think of--i changed my settings. i plugged in my ideal weight and will stop weighing and will learn to trust myself.

and continue to move, which i have done.

today the water and a few phone calls.
and prayers.
and listening to bubbles.

`r.




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<![CDATA[shocking the orchid]]>Sat, 11 Mar 2017 23:55:41 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/shocking-the-orchidPicture
then again, i'm not sure what just happened, the last day. or so. did i come here yesterday?

i don't think so. 

yesterday was friday. i swam. then out for lunch. then centering prayer.

and then i was overstimulated and i went for more even though i knew i should stop. i had my friend come over to chat. it was too much. i wanted to do it, but i was too tired to put my thoughts into words, too drained.

too stupid.

i just want to be myself. but therein is the problem. i am the stumbling block. i am the delicate flower.

i'd sooner be a thistle. an oak.

actually, all this is the side show i suspect. i cannot sleep.

or rather i cannot sleep long enough.

i cannot live a life where i'm in bed by eight and up by three. it's too hard to socialize. to go to late church services. to late concerts.

etc.

i am forcing myself to stay awake until nine tonight. and we spring forward tonight.

and we've a tiny wintery mix going on, what we southerners call rain with any bits of ice in it.

and for all the world and all the worlds held deep inside my head i'd ask god to fish me out and dry me off and set me upright onto the proper path.

because i've blown off course.

the power couplings on C deck are entirely out of alignment. 

(in a few years, no one who doesn't know me well will be able to communicate with me because roughly 30% of my language will be movie and tv metaphors and illusions.)

`r.

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<![CDATA[shock the system]]>Thu, 09 Mar 2017 14:26:15 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/shock-the-systemPicture
My mood is still fluctuating, though not as rapidly. I must find a way, many ways, to cope. Much of this will be changing my "state."

Having gone through so many depressions, I know how important it is, often, to shock the system--cold shower, brisk walk, scream, dance, sing, jump up and down.

Coping with bipolar seems to require the same things. I am sitting in my recliner as I have been for the last few hours. I know this is not "good" for me and is adding to my stress, but I am doing it anyway. Granted, I have "sat" for my stab at meditation. I have done the Morning Office. I have resisted the urge to have the TV on while reading the Times, while searching the Interwebs, and I have mostly done this. But I have had a sense of dread about whether or not to go to the Y, whether or not to go out, to do anything.

Guilt, the default emotion. The dreadful state. I'm so so so so so so sorry for whatever it is that I have done.

I want to do nothing. Much less shower. Dress. Clean up.

But these are the things I need to do. And many other things.

The problem is where need meets want meets need. "Should" and "need" and "must" are dangerous words for me and can send me into an endless feedback loop of guilt and anxiety. 

Instead, I want to concentrate on the things I WANT to do and LIKE to do.

Life is play.

Writing helps. It usually does, but I resist doing it also.

I am cutting out caffeine to see if it will help with my stress. Well, it certainly should. Although giving up daytime caffeine has been very easy, forgoing my morning coffee for decaf has pretty much put me to sleep. Back to sleep. Comma groggy.

The cure for how I feel, guilt-wise, at this moment, is to make a decision. And then let the anxiety go. I can either go out. Or stay in. I don't "have" to do anything. Nothing is pressing.

I can choose to approach the day as a gift in which to play and putter and be grateful for the change to do so. Or I can sit here and continue to fret and curl my toes because I'm so anxious.

My path seems quite clear when stated in this way.

But I haven't been to the Y at all this week. Pressure. 

But really, stop.

Talk to the hand.

`r.

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<![CDATA[inverting]]>Wed, 08 Mar 2017 12:03:42 GMThttp://godlikepoet.com/what-she-says/invertingPicture
Having difficulty with my mood, no fixed star. I cannot pin the tail on the donkey on the Rebecca her head keeps whirling round.

I am trying, trying. Just now I was type this I am listening to rain and thunder instead of the TV on in the background.

I have taken to the Morning Office and prayers.

Just after breakfast, I sat for 9 mins listening to bubbles and watching the lane line on the bottom of the pool, stroke, stroke. Eventually I will meditate. Or something like.

I have to learn to get ahead of the rapid fluctuations. Surely I can attend to some of this with mindfulness.

Though a large part of my mind does not want to rest, wants to flitter. And fly.

How to stop oneself from flying.

And crashing.

To level the plane.

And while writing all this I've wanted to get back to my divided attention and work on my food page, a mindless project I've been playing with. It is so much fun, but is it good for me? During my convalescence, I went wild with food, gained some weight. I became fixated with sugar and was fairly crazed. (I have lived with this obsession most of my life.) The food page is filled with the good things to eat that are NOT sugary crazy-inducing sweets that trigger my madness and obsession.

My mother-in-law's best friend died, a fantastic old lady who was a pillar in the community and the church. I do not say pillar lightly. We have a funeral today and though the passing is sad, we welcome the chance to attend as we have never participated in an Episcopal funeral service before.

Of all the things I'm trying trying working on is reducing stress. And this means that I will often have to forego the things that have always made me happy, like being around people. I must limit my exposure lest I am lifted up too high and begin orbiting the earth. 

I am an extreme extrovert, or I have always been. But it is not good for me. The over-stimulation. I think I must live as an introvert. Perhaps I have become an introvert.

`r.

(i must say the online mynoisemachine is marvelous. as is omm writer)




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