Self caring.

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EmoVulcan

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  • Quietly, I sit in the eye, else I am the storm.
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Self caring.
« on: November 05, 2015, 05:21:13 AM »
Hoping to help...and validate myself, I suppose. Sorry, it is long...I have difficulty with brevity, because.soundbytes suck and contain only parts for laziest of thought.

I was an overweight infant and toddler.  I remember my mother, a little hurting her voice, relating how people (she did not name) had said her baby was too fat.  She had not thought so,  she was a product of the generation who endured the depression.  They thought baby fat was a survival tool against drought and privation.  Of course.

I remained over weight for the bulk of my life, not obese, but not a 10 in any sense except for size.  There was a subconscious desire to remain hidden from men's desires of physical release; I was absolutely inhibited against any thoughts of myself as a sexual creature, no child has this concept of physical sharing as a healthy thing to do.  So, the excess was already there, and I could not in truth make it go away, not with all the lack of will to be noticed, and wishes of CSA ending, that were not being fulfilled, despite prayers, raging demands in my head, that never passed my lips.

Now, after having children, I did not care for saggy skin, wrinkles, stretch marks, scars and battle wounds on top of a now ballooning body.  I grew into some size twenties my uNm in law gave me.  I detested this state of being.  My knees were hurting all the time, one hip was not enjoying motion and that inner critic was just going wild.  My ex began shaming me,
As my inner critic was also doing.  The fat cow, who let herself go.

Miserable. That is the impetus for change.  I began even then, to make one change at a time.  I switched to whole grains, and eliminated white bread, rice and pasta.  I returned, somewhat effortlessly, to the "normal" adult wrapped in baby fat that I had always been before.  And stayed there for many years more.

I became conscious of amounts, balances of meals, and the dangers of sugar, namely in cola..an addiction of mine that I indulged in as an adult, because the child had been denied.  That was a luxury in my parents mind.

So many years later,  divorced, children grown up on their own.  I seriously made some progress towards health that I wanted, and tried not to find.  I quit smoking cigarettes, reduced meats, increased veggies and fruits over time.
I still hurt in my joints, still cried all the time...went back to size 10. I  promised myself to be happy to just be where my 'setpoint' had been. It was comforting, even, dare I say, empowering to actually have my way, with myself. I was happy.

I stopped obsessing, weighing, counting and strictly denying myself. I still felt that the state of my health had nothing to do with feeling like dying.

Then, two years ago, and eleven months after just giving up soda as ever present in my life.  I got sick, like bad sick. Dizzy nauseous, weak.  Nothing stayed down, acid was burning my stomach, and my throat.  I landed in er.  The doctors with all their wisdom and knowledge, rehydrated me, took some representative samples to more fully understand what just happened to me.  The recommendation was to have a fasting sugar done at a date two weeks down the road...but they did not really think this was my problem.  Not even a full week, and I was in that same er, and in worse shape. What was puzzling to me, I was now wearing size 8, and thought to be healthy....so this didn't track with professionals either.

My sugar was nearly 400...that is huge! So I was told, it should have stayed lower than 110, and that was like, always.

Ah, what turmoil and self defeating voices came out.  I told you so..ad nauseum from myself and all others.   :pissed:

But, I am nothing, if not stubborn.  I tuned them all out, and got to some serious business.  The blessings of obamacare are not seen to many....too bad, we do not have better than money to use as power, leaving me without hope, as no power is my lot, and no money comes to those with no power. However, I was blessed with a medical team, and some personal training with a nutritionist, a good doctor, a great diagnostic and supportive team.  This is knowledge I was given!

I applied this new think...exercise, diet, testing, tracking and keeping myself straight, by the hour.  Then I finally get my medical marijuana card, and I incorporated some new knowledge, more esoteric than proven.  I used the essential oils of cannabis in homemade tinctures and edibles, and grew my plants, with focus and nurturing...for this IS my health I was taking responsibility for....having been made part of the team, to bring in (what?) My own power, i did not suspect would it consist of a flower.

Now, I am a real woman, who wears a size one!  Not even dreamt of by me, but is something that happened in this wondrous time.  But, that is the thing.  Knowledge is power...and when everything syncs up as it is designed to without effort and strength having been brought to bear.  I have confirmed, life is not as complex, nor as simple..as a child's innocent being.
But, humans have thoughts, and we don't know what is hidden.

Yes, I feel better all the Time..and I do not stress about food as a remedy to everything.  Food is medicine...and we were given the seed bearing plant for our use.  Cannabis is the tree of life, to me...it addresses the physical body and the mental aspects that chronic pain causes or maybe the other way around;  depression, apathy, unworthiness, lack of joy.  Now I want to say, this was once all well known to us...but we forgot, and it was buried away and hidden, hmmm by some others in power.

Just because I am paranoid, the facts still remain, and that does not preclude that someone is out to get me.
Paranoia is a safety precaution and a warning to the wary.  In this world negatives have been made positives, positive are the negatives we were taught to avoid.  No not truly as personal as I think, I get it.  Just another piece of the puzzle I am trying to solve! 
 :umbrella: :umbrella: