Thursday, September 24, 2009

Ever have one of those days?

Well, I'm having one of those months. September has not been nice to me in many ways. Let's start at the beginning. On September 1, I was coming home from picking up Chase from school. We were talking about his day, enjoying our drive home, when it happened. For many reasons, I'm not going to get into specifics, but I was rearended by a driver going about 45 mph. I was stopped, but saw her in my rearview mirror, and did my best to get out of the way. Thankfully I did, and we escaped being crushed between 2 large SUVs. My car was totaled, I spent many days in the bed with excruciating whiplash and back spasms, but my family was safe. I am ever grateful for Melissia, a new friend in the area, who spent 5.5 hours with me at the site of the wreck and at Urgent Care, and for the men and women who stopped to help us. There were two gentlemen who were so magnificent, and they helped pry the doors of the car open to get my boys out, and held them and me in their arms until we could be checked out.
In an accident of that nature, there is much red tape, and legal mumbo jumbo. Obtaining the police report, waiting for cooperation of all the parties, and other garbage held up allowing us to get into a car. It was 2 weeks before my car was officially totaled out, and we were able to secure financing for a new vehicle. That happened last Monday.

Monday, September 14 was the first day I was back behind a wheel. It is terrifying to drive again when you've been hit like that. There is a vulnerability that is all-consuming. I had ridden in the car a couple of times, gripping the door or dash, terrified of every car behind us. Once I started driving again, it felt like I had a target on my backside or a cloak of invisibility because it seemed like every car stopped right on my bumper. I was still nursing aches and pain, and hadn't been able to start exercising again.

Thursday, September 17 is a day I am not likely to forget. Stuart called me from work and asked if I'd spoken to family. I had not, and asked what was wrong. He said, "It's really bad, babe." My heart stopped, and then he told me it was my cousin, Rachel. She had been killed in a car accident. He knew no details, so I tried calling my Dad. There was no answer on his phone, I texted him, sent IMs to his phone... Nothing. I then called my sister, and she had heard nothing. In the end, it was confirmed, and my heart broke in two.

Rachel was 19 and beautiful. She was at a point in her life where she had lots of questions, wanted all the answers, and was looking forward to her future. She was headed to work that morning, and pulled out in front of a semi. She was my cousin, but also my friend, and like a little sister in ways. When Stuart and I started dating, she was a little kid - like 4 or 5 - and she would always want to sit in his lap, hold his hand, and sit between us at church. Little turkey. She grew up before our eyes, as we worked in the youth department at church. After Stuart joined the CG, I lost touch with most of my kids in the youth group, except for through networking sites online.
I have been struggling with the fact that I was no longer her confidante. I was not there for her every question, struggle, or tear. I hadn't had an inside joke with her in a while, and I hadn't even teased her about her love for Robert Pattinson. She gave me a hard time about making soaps, asking me if I was now Brad Pitt in her favorite movie, Fight Club. I'm feeling a lot of guilt, regret, and loss. I do have beautiful memories, and I am grateful for them. I have thought of her every single day, and laughed. She brought such joy and love to everyone around her, and she is going to be terribly missed.

I have really had to fight against depression and hopelessness this month. It would be so easy to give up and give in. It would. There have been many days that I just want to go to sleep and forget about life. Forget about everything looming overhead. I haven't counted points in a few weeks. The weekend before my wreck, my dad was here, and he brought with him all the bad eating habits of my childhood. Beans rice and sausage, boudain, piles of spaghetti with 2 kinds of sausage and ground beef. There aren't enough points in a month for that! LOL! Then after the wreck, Mom and Nanny came, and bought all kinds of easy snacks. PopTarts (gasp), chips, cookies, soda, all those weaknesses. Thankfully macaroni and cheese is nowhere in this list.

I know I've mentioned feeling insecure around my sisters, and that wasn't so bad this time in TX. I think I had too much else that really mattered to worry about myself and my shortcomings. It wasn't until we got home that it reared its head, but in a different way. My baby sister, Ashley, is one confident, outspoken little thing. She has struggled with her weight in the past, and has been treated recently in a clinic. She takes a prescription pill, and was taking B12 shots weekly for weight loss. She started out around 165, I guess, and is now 135. I am proud of her, and she does look beautiful, but I had spoken to my doctor in the past about her weight loss methods, and he didn't feel it was right for me at that time. Well, my husband noticed the difference in my sister, and has been not so subtly telling me to look into what she was doing.

Generally, Stuart is super supportive. Right now, I weigh less than I have in years. Less than before either child was born. I have worked hard. I know that the last 4 weeks have not been good, and until this morning, I didn't know where I actually stood weight-wise. His awareness and unintentional nagging has been very hurtful. I know his intentions were to help, to offer me hope, and to give me a solution that would work. You know, that quick fix that everyone dreams of. I just don't feel good about the weight loss clinic approach. I'm not doing this just for weight loss, but to become healthy in many ways. Emotionally, spiritually, physicially...It all plays a part in overall health.

He has been somewhat unhappy about his own physical health, feeling the effects of one too many beers at a port call around his midsection, and the aches and pains that come along with age. We have both done a lot of wallowing and complaining, and not a lot of doing. My calendar in the bedroom hadn't been updated in a few weeks, because I had been bedridden after the wreck, and wasn't interested in getting someone else to check the scale for me. I decided yesterday that I was challenging him to a 9-week healthy living contest. Starting today, for the next 9 weeks, there will be no soda (Coke, pop, whatever you call it), he cannot use tobacco, I have to count my points, we both have to be active 4x/week, and he can only have 2 drinks per port call when he is underway. This will bring us to the week before Thanksgiving.

Do you realize that I - if I meet my goal - will be @ 160 lbs by Thanksgiving?! That is less than I have weighed since I was a freshman in high school.

I do want to mention, by the way, that it hasn't all been bad the last few weeks. I got a new car to replace my crushed one. It is roomy, large, and I feel like I could compete with the next Tahoe that decides they want a look at my innards via my rear end. I also got a job as a medical transcriptionist. I am very excited about being able to contribute financially again, and I hope this opportunity is a good one for me.

Thanks for your support and love. I know this entry was lengthy, but I'm needing the therapy that writing allows right now.

Oh, so today's weigh in was 184. I'm up 2.5 lbs, but that's not so bad, considering I hadn't weighed in since mid-late August.