I fear the future. Not afraid exactly, but very aware that things are shifting. I am 59. My mother died at 59, a little less than 2 months before her 60th birthday. I am well, other than all my ailments which seem to increase and then to ebb just a bit before increasing again.
I want to change my health, if I can. I want to make the most of…..or is this true? Do I want to “make the most of the time that is left?” I wonder.
Entropy. I am ensconced in something a little like apathy but is actually the process of being ill and in pain. In pain much, and often, most of the time I spend awake. Pain drains the body of energy. Of hours. Of spark.
I had such a huge burst of energy yesterday. My body cried out to MOVE and move it I did, all the while thinking not to overdo, or endanger. Which I did do to some extent–on the stepstool cleaning the high shelves…surely not the wisest occupation when one has been on the mend for seemed like weeks.
And then a breeze of energy. And today, more energy. It’s like being given a whole new body, each cell with a new mindset and then, when the pain does come, it’s just that. Pain. Not the end of the world. Not a sudden stop sign, warning signs…but when the pain is the headache, the gnawing presence of migraine that never really stops…such pain sucks the soul. The body, like the mind, becomes flat. Flaccid.
I had my Botox for Migraine Tuesday. I should have 2 good months before the headaches come back in force. (the hosts are every 3 months and in case you’re wondering–that’s 31 shots to the face and head.)
In any case, I am once again too large to be comfortable in the spaces that I inhabit. It’s harder to be bigger. I spend too much time tugging at my clothing, adjusting in my seat, shifting from foot to foot when waiting in line. I spend too much time thinking about my body, my looks, my belly, how it hangs, how I wish it didn’t. I wonder how I would fit into the seat of an airplane would I fit into the seat of an airplane?
I desire. I want. I want to feel better. I want to be smaller than I am now. I want to inhabit a body that is smaller and feels lighter and better.
But I will not do the deep deprivation calorie-counting dive as of old. Been there before. Successfully. But then slippage back down that long hill is so swift and easy and saddening.
No, I will ferret out a way to do for my brain (body) what those weight-loss drugs do. They push food, the thoughts of food, the relentless focus on food, off to the back forty where they hover like the once-fierce promises of a storm that has become just a bit of fog. I know. I took a weight-loss drug for a while and it did just this. While also making me so anxious I couldn’t bear it.
No…change things tiny….or. Let me see. The first thing that occurs to me is to remove the thing that makes all the binging on sugar/fat/fast food, etc., more enjoyable. Maybe even possible. That is Diet Coke. It is a pillar of my eating. I have been hooked since I was….18? It strips the tongue and mouth of fat. It changes the taste of fast food burgers and fries. It makes cheap pastries and cakes tolerable. It sits in the mouth like the ghost of sweetness. It is gassy. It is incomparable. It is expensive.
That would be a change I know I could make and would be glad of. And I don’t think it would quite feel like desperation. Which is another word for deprivation. Desperation. I can replace it with very watery home-brewed iced tea. And sparkling water.
Another tiny change….well, not tiny. I could get everything out of the house except the things that I want to eat. And here is what that would look like–
Oils. Vinegars. Spices. Nuts. Beans. Peas. Rice. Pasta. Canned tomatoes, beans, vegetables, fruit, broth, bullion. Frozen fish, vegetables, fruits. Fresh bacon, Canadian bacon, Fakon, eggs, deli meats. Cream of Wheat. Yellow Grits. Fresh broccoli, carrots, onions, celery, peppers, potatoes. Fresh apples, berries, watermelon, oranges (in season). Slaw and Salad mixes. Bagels. Loaf Bread. Crackers. Peanut butter. Jellies. Coffee. Tea. Yogurt. Milk. Half/Half. Sweet Relish, Mustard, BBQ Sauce, Mayo. Cheeses.
I also have stuff for baking, but what if I didn’t? Would it be better to just get rid of it? I am one of those unfortunate people who can whip up a batch of chocolate cookies or an apple crisp in no time flat. Or a pan of biscuits. What if even these staples were not in the house? What if I really could streamline things down to what I want to eat and nothing else?
I’ve certainly never tried this before. What if?
Tiny changes. I will think and think and think. And change things. And then not think so much.
~r.
