Saturday, August 04, 2012
I'd like to begin with a thanks for the support and prayers for my family that I've recieved. My uncle should be moved from the ICU either today or tomorrow as he's been stable for over 24 hours now. He's awake and aware and in high spirits. My cousin (his oldest daughter) flys out today from the So. Cal. area to stay with him and his family until my uncle is up and moving about again.
I discovered that the reason I hadn't heard until three days after the accident is because my aunt didn't tell anyone. This is not unusual for her, my aunt is a very independent and self sufficient woman and it's not out of keeping with her personality that she would deal with a crisis then let everyone know once she'd gotten things settled.
Yesterday was a low-key day. I spent a good deal of the day on the phone with various family members, I exercised minimally, and chilled out with the girls. I also did only enough housecleaning to maintain my momentum but not enough to move forward.
The primary purpose of today's blog is a bit of introspection. I seem to be hitting a rough patch in my transition to healthier eating. It's almost as though two of me are in here. the "old" me that deals with stress by turning to comfort foods and is willing to accept "cheap" boxed meals when finances get tight, and the "new" me who has been looking at labels and is more likely than not to pass by a drive through and go home for a healthy lunch and knows that the cheapest meal out there is a simple soup and home made bread or biscuits.
I still miss some of my old favorite foods, but I have recognised side effects from eating them that I never would have before. I'm not sure if I it's because it wouldn't have occured to me to think of my food as a culprit, or if there was such a strong general malaise that permeated my life that they were just another voice in a MUCH larger chorus.
I've felt this dichotomy, this unaligned division of self, a couple times.
First when I quit smoking, there was a time where the battle between my will to quit for good and the force of my habits warred for what seemed like forever. Slowly, the more I won, the easier it seemed to win subsequent battles. Five years ago I would have been insulted and angry had someone offered me a cigarette, now I am able to refuse with no emotional response to it whatsoever. This is because cigarettes hold no power over me. You know, I've never written those words in that order all at once... ever. That statement feels so good.
More recently, when I made the change from piling my coffee with milk and sugar to simple black coffee I felt a similar inner tension. Not nearly so strong as when I quit smoking, but there was a longing for the old coffee and the occasional cup that I would 'Doctor" in my half-asleep fog brained state in the early mornings. I dumped a few cups out those first couple weeks. Again, though, the more battles I won with this phantom of habit and conditioning, the easier subsequent battles became to win. I don't even have so much as a whisper of longing for my doctored coffee. I'm pretty sure now that I'd find it far too sweet to be palatable if I tried to go back. The habit and the sugar in altering my coffee also has no power over me any longer.
Today I am feeling that inner tension again. This time, while it isn't as strong as the cigarettes were, I'm not as certain of my imminent success. Not because I don't think I'll win, rather because the choices and behaviors I am altering right are so all pervasive in my life and there are so many chances to lose that I sometimes despair over winning a majority of the battles consistently. Perhaps it will take longer, perhaps I will look back and wonder why I was so nervous over my success, but I know I'm a bit scared.
I guess I need to do a bit of soul searching to find the source of my uncertainty. I think it implies that somewhere, the creature of habit inside me still has more wiggle room that I would like her to have. Honesty compels me to face the possibility that I am giving her that extra slack in response to a greater, nameless fear. The good thing is, that not that I've recognised this inner war, I'm determined to win. Sometimes there's an advantage to being a stubborn wench.
Like with smoking and my candy-coffee, there is an end to this war. I know from past experiences that I am capable, strong, and I will win. I am not currently in the mood to expend much patience on this, but that will change.