Diaries I Read:
When I arrived at work this morning, I found out that the man who used to work in our mailroom, who everybody loved, who was laid off earlier this year, had a heart attack this weekend and died. He was 47.
And this weekend my running buddy told me that her cousin, who�s been battling breast cancer for a while, just found out that although they thought they had gotten all the cancer, they�ve now found it in her lung, her liver, and her hip bone.
And another good friend of mine is nursing her mother, who also had breast cancer years ago and had a double mastectomy and all kinds of chemo and radiation treatment but the cancer is now recurring as boils and open sores all over her body and the nurses are asking her if the family has made arrangements and such and she is not accepting the very real possibility that her mom might not live much longer.
And yesterday was Father�s Day, the first for my mom since her father died, the first for me since my granddad died. And last Tuesday was his birthday. He would have been 81.
And my grandmother is apparently having some health problems and telling everyone that she wants to just die, and she is a case that needs more explanation than I have time for here, but let�s suffice it to say that while she is always dramatic, this time might just be for real.
And while all of this stuff is going on, I am freaking out about two pounds.
Literally. Freaking out. I spent all of Friday and most of Saturday and a few moments on Sunday being utterly depressed and inconsolable about those measly couple of pounds.
I got my new bathroom scale home on Friday evening, and let�s just say that the gym scale was not lying. I still can�t explain it � I ate and exercised and did everything right last week, and it just doesn�t make any sense. Poor B simply had no idea how to deal with me � what is he supposed to say when his wife is sobbing about how fat she is? He kept telling me I was probably just retaining water, which was NOT what I wanted to hear and did NOT help at all. I don�t think anything he said would have helped. I was really out of my head over this.
I finally got enough of a grip on myself to come to the conclusion that my only choice in this matter was to keep doing what I�ve been doing and trust that it�s going to pay off. So I ran seven miles on Saturday and five on Sunday and continued to eat as well as I could given the typical weekend pressures and even said no to a piece of birthday cheesecake last night at our neighbors� house. And I spent last evening preparing a week�s worth of zero-point soup and I got up at 5:45 this morning and ran four miles. And I stopped myself from getting back on the scale this morning because the last thing I need is to see something that will get me upset again.
I think I truly exhausted myself over the weekend, what with my crying and carrying on and self-loathing, and I spent several hours napping both Saturday and Sunday. I was. Just. So. Tired. And then it clicked that this week is my week � you know, that week in the cycle, except I�m taking my birth control pills such that I trick my body out of doing what it�s �supposed� to do � and maybe that has something to do with all of this. Maybe that has EVERYTHING to do with all this. I mean, maybe B�s not crazy and I AM retaining water or there�s some other biological, *female* explanation for those two pounds. And even if it doesn�t have anything to do with the two pounds, I�m certain it has something to do with my reaction to those two pounds. Or maybe I�m pregnant. (Hee � just always have to throw that out there.)
And all of this analysis is good and great after the fact, but it doesn�t change the fact that I flipped out. I really lost it. My emotions were totally out of control. B kept telling me that he couldn�t believe I was acting like this, that it was the stupidest thing he�d ever seen me do. And when you�re in the middle of it � when you�re FEELING what you�re feeling regardless of whether it�s logical or sane or not � that kind of comment is completely useless and un-helpful. You don�t hear your husband say, �This is really stupid� and stop in your tracks, reevaluate your position in the world and your perspective on life, decide that your pants feeling tight really doesn�t matter in the whole scheme of things, and just snap out of it. It doesn�t work that way.
It�s only now that I can see that my reaction over the situation was a little crazy and that I was acting like someone with a screw loose. But even knowing that doesn�t change the way I was feeling in those moments. I DID feel fat and I did FEEL ugly and helpless and stupid and hopeless. And I would be doing myself an injustice to pretend that those feelings were insignificant. They were real and they matter.
But still, it�s kind of scary that emotions � those that are based in such petty worries � can wreak that sort of havoc on your life. That I could be so happy and well adjusted earlier in the week and then spin out of control because of a number on the scale. That I went from feeling beautiful and proud and satisfied to feeling totally worthless. It�s a little frightening.
Working at home - Wednesday, Nov. 17, 2004
Toronto - Tuesday, Nov. 16, 2004
On the way to Toronto... - Tuesday, Nov. 09, 2004
A Good Day - Monday, Nov. 08, 2004
Another letter - Thursday, Nov. 04, 2004