OK, so the actual blessing for Day 6 doesn't really say "Carry Me". And come to think of it...at my current weight, that would be quite a feat! No, the actual Blessing is ever so much more general in nature...but reality says I'm going to have to lean on you wayyyyy more than I should if I have any hope of conquering this 'health crap'.
Here's the real blessing: Day 6: Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." - Galatians 6:2
I won't delve deep into my belief that the thought of helping your fellow man isn't solely a Christian requirement. I did my 'philosophering' bit over on Avalon's site. Here, I'm going to stick to figuring out how to beg you for some camel time...
Yep. I'm a weak-minded simpleton. I have the stick-to-it-iveness of twice used tape and the will power of a fly in a dung heap. I'm plain flat pathetic!
What in the Hades is your secret? No...really...what is your SECRET? How do you go about your daily lives not eating or doing the things you shouldn't? And before anyone tells me to go 'exercise' when I feel like eating something, I need to point out that my guts have been scrambled THREE times in the past few weeks. Attempting to sew (which I failed miserably at, in case you care) started cramps-a-plenty. I've managed to work up to going up the stairs twice in a day - but I've ended every day this week in pain. Horrible cramping in places I'd rather not cramp, thank you very kindly. (hoo-ha cramps suck eggs - just so you know) So...exercising away my temptations is NOT an option at the moment. Would love to, can't. Not for a while at least.
So...what are your brilliant suggestions for NOT eating the things that are my vices? Oh sure, I've tried the count to ten thing. Close your eyes, take deep breaths...slowly count to ten...
What happens? This: One...little mini-wheat won't kill me. Two...really, they're small - why not have two? Three...oh heck, I've already ruined my metabolism for the day, why not have 3? Or a bowl? Four...now I'm stressed, I've fallen off the wagon. Five...stress getting worse, cravings intensifying... Six...damn. I'm going to eat an entire bowl of mini-wheats, I know it. Seven...yummm....they're going to taste sooo good and crunchy. Eight...well, hell. If I've already blown it, I might as well have some peanutbutter on celery. Nine...this breathing thing makes me lightheaded. and...Ten...mini-wheats here I come!!
Yep, that's about how it goes. Breathing: 0 Failure: 1 I need a better option.
Also, can we please figure out how to band together to somehow magically remove all other stressors from my life? Oh my, wouldn't that be grand. You see, I admit I'm a stress eater. Preferably chocolate or salty if I really feel bad about something. Case in point - the Quilt from Hades. Sit back and let me fill you in...
A dear friend, Suzanne, asked me to help finish a quilt she had made to be auctioned off to benefit our local charity, Kids N Kamp. I would do ANYTHING for Suzanne. She has been the absolute most amazing friend to me the past several months. When I suddenly began bleeding while at our Mom's Quilt Weekend, it's her hotel door I knocked on in utter panic. She's the one who got me to the car and who explained to my wonderful friends what had happened. She's also the first to have danced when we found out the baby was fine.
Move forward, Suzanne is the first person I texted when we found out we lost our son. Somehow, in my mind, she kind of 'owned' a part of him. I know, crazy...but it's how I felt. Suzanne is also the person who took me to the OB a few weeks ago, and then helped me get admitted to the hospital. She welcomed Avalon to help in her Shoot-A-Thon basketball fundraiser for Kids N Kamp, and has spoiled my littles at every chance she can get. Brass tacks, I adore this lady. Finish a quilt for her? No problem! I'm in!!
Um...huge problem. The damn quilt is possessed. I'm convinced of it. I couldn't work on the quilt the first few days I had it. I'd had to clear off my sewing table, get supplies together, and that sent me into cramping. Crap. Then, I started putting on the binding she brought me, and...well, I didn't like the look of it. I grilled my teen daughter (the quilt was being sold to teens) and her boyfriend, and they agreed, it looked odd. So....I asked Suzanne if I could do something different. She had no problem with it, as she herself was 'done' with the quilt, frustrated beyond belief. Next, I had to cut the fabric and try my new method of binding...which...FAILED miserably. Crap squared. Then came hours upon hours of tearing off yet another binding. Fun...not. And finally, I threw in the artistic towel and attempted to sew on the original binding, only to find a) I didn't have enough of it for the entire quilt, b) I couldn't make the corners look good, and c) I utterly bombed the entire thing. Crappity crap CRAP.
I had to call my friend, the woman who had bent over backwards for me to be helpful, and tell her I let her down. ACK! Suzanne never batted an eye, she was perfectly fine with it. (making the guilt ten times worse...) But I wasn't fine with it, not at all. Not only was it the worst sewing failure I'd had in a couple of decades...but it happened when I was trying to help someone who trusted me. Big whoppin' boatload of a failure. Can you say 'chocolate' anyone?
Oh yeah, I got up from my accursed sewing table, marched straight to the kitchen, dug out left-over-from-Christmas chocolate chips...and melted those puppies down. I then proceeded to chocolate cover a banana. Yummmm.... The whole time I'm searching/melting/coating/refridgerating, I was thinking, I know I'm eating this because I'm stressed. I KNOW I don't need this. Why do I want it SOOO BAD?! Awww heck, I'm a failure, I let Suzanne down, I might as well eat...
Don't even say it, I fully realize those were the ramblings of a fruit loop left too long in the sun. Just because I'd blown it with the quilt, does NOT mean I needed chocolate. The problem is, I need to find a good disconnect to convince my brain of that, when the sugar/wheat/salt/peanut voices start talking to me. They're kinda loud... Pretty pushy too... I'm...w..e..a...k......
As for the quilt, I called Suzanne and apologized deeply. I will likely do so 100 or more times. I also plan on having a mutual quilt-master friend of ours show me what I did wrong, and teach me the proper way. I will then make a quilt to be sold with hers at next year's auction. I do NOT like being beaten, and this particular hunk o' fabric has pummeled me mightily.
In the meantime, I need my camel-people (my burden-carriers, if you didn't get that) to help me with my load. Do you have any great, brilliant, insightful, fit-for-a-nutjob suggestions of what to do when those mini-wheats call my name?
Ahh-leeee-sshaaa....you KNOW you want us. We're crunchy goodness... Ahhh-leeee-sshaaaaa....just one little bowl won't kill you. We're good for your colon...everyone knows it. Ahh-leee-sshaa...come get us.....
Yep, I need help.
Psychiatrists need not apply.