Sad

Yesterday I found out that the dad of one of my best friends in high school died of a heart attack while he was riding his bicycle.  Today I found out that an acquaintance of mine from high school died after an 8 year battle with breast cancer, and while I didn't know her well, we were friends on Facebook and I had been following her story.  My husband and I are attending two memorials over the next two weeks for the two friends who died last month. 

These things weigh on me.  I know people die every day, and we all lose loved ones and friends.  It's part of life, but when these things occur so close together, one on the heals of another that I haven't yet fully recovered from, the sadness of it builds up in my system on a cellular level and interferes with my ability to function.

I'm not trying to draw any conclusions, learn any lessons, or strive to improve myself through this.  No, for once, I'm just going to acknowledge and honor this part of myself.  I'm affected by this.  I know I'm not suffering in the same way as those who lost a partner, a dad, or a brother, and I'm not looking for sympathy or support.  I just want to say I'm sad.

Reset

I'm still struggling a little bit with the carb cravings since I've allowed myself to give in and eat some of the things I had been avoiding.  I'm also afraid to get on the scale and see what I've gained, so I'm avoiding that.  I am, however, eating very low carb today.  One thing I've managed to continue doing is eat under 25 grams of total carbohydrates every Monday and Tuesday, no matter how badly I might deviate from my plan for the rest of the week.

For Mothers' Day my husband and kids made me mimosas for brunch and prepared Chicken Pad Thai, as per my request, for dinner.  It was delicious.  They also gave me a new iPhone, and this whole post was just an excuse for me to play with the camera on it.  So, here are pictures of my dinner last night, and my low carb breakfast this morning.

Weighing In

My last weigh-in  was way back in March.  Well, the end of March.  Since then I have lost 3.2 pounds.  Yes, it took me the whole month of April to lose that, but you know what?  I'm counting it as a victory that I didn't gain back all the weight I had lost, considering the amount of emotional eating in which I indulged.

I ate pizza, donuts, cheesecake, potato chips, and nachos.  I drank wine and margaritas many nights.  I exercised and practiced yoga zero minutes (That's a slight exaggeration, but you know what I'm saying).  In between those little binges, though, I continued to eat low carb foods.  Finding out that I don't have to become completely derailed by occasional binges is encouraging.

I'm down to 231.8 pounds, and I'm hoping now that things have settled down somewhat I can get back to losing a pound or two a week again.  Maybe next week I'll see the 220's again.  I never thought I'd be happy to say that!  Sigh.  Well, I am happy to say it.

Living

I'm grateful for:

• breathing.
• dancing. 
• singing. 
• hugging the people I love.
• being able to tell a friend I love him and say goodbye face to face.

I'm Alive!

The month of April was emotionally intense and stressful.  Two friends died. Our dog needed two surgeries. My son needed dental work, and between the surgery and dental bills my husband and I were struggling a bit to figure out how to pay for it all without sinking into credit card debt.

The friend I mentioned the last time I wrote died a week and two days after I wrote.  I did get a chance to see him again before he passed away. He had a huge sendoff celebration starting with a motorcycle ride through town with a bunch of other bikers.  His daughter arranged for someone with a sidecar to ride with him, as it was his dying wish to ride one more time.

After the ride he gathered with friends and family at one of his favorite karaoke spots for one last night of singing and for a chance to say goodbye to those he loves.  My husband and I were there, sitting with his family.  It was,..emotional.  He sang Live Like You Were Dying, and I came undone.   After he died that song played over and over in my head.  It was there all night while I was trying to sleep, and in the morning it was still there, as insistent as it had been the previous day.  It occurred to me that perhaps this was a personal message from Jeff to me; to live like I was dying.

I spent the month of April trying to numb myself, as I do when I feel overwhelmed with stress or emotion, and the message I am taking away from Jeff's death is to plug-in, feel my emotions, and face the situations that cause me to shrink away with courage.  The message for me is to live.