Today for me: Monday
Today, for me, I:
(Did not) go out with the team. I actually listened to my body, and when it was only 20 degrees outside when I woke up, I decided that was a little insane. Not so much the riding in the cold weather as taking the chance of getting sick before Thursday. So I rolled back over for another hour then got up. When I got in, they were all doing workouts inside on the rollers, so they didn't go out on the road either!
I ate cookies. Yes, I did and I did not feel guilty and I enjoyed every flipping bite of them. I have been trying so hard to keep low calories and eat my high protein and dairy and vegetables that I think I am going to scream. I guess I can say that the eating issues are going ok - if I compare them to what they had been, yet I'm still struggling with them. Had hoped the trip to the nutritionist would have helped more than it has, although I had hoped it would be a resource I could check in with weekly or every two weeks, not a 6-week window. I will figure it out somehow, yet for today I have chosen cookies...Famous Amos cookies :)
Visited with Papa Dave. As a late teen/young adult, I was quickly adopted into my girl's camp BFF Shauna's family. For years, I would have Sunday dinners and sleepovers with them. When I worked in Champaign, many times I would just go to their house instead of driving all the way home. After I had dropped out of college and was making some rather bad choices for my life, I remember calling Dave one night. I had spent a few nights sleeping in my car because I did not feel I had anywhere else to go, and I asked if I could come stay there. They took me in under the condition I would get get a job and try to get back on my feet. I did. For many, many years he willingly filled a father-figure void in my life (thus becoming my "Papa Dave"). They moved out to Utah almost 20 years ago and still make it back once in a while. This weekend they were here as part of something on campus. I spent some time Friday with Zina and, knowing just how valuable and helpful it would be, went over and visited with Dave this morning for a few hours before they left.
Both Dave and Zina have watched me "fight the fight" for a lot of years. I had shown up at their house to get bandaged up after doing something stupid to myself more than once. They always did their best to help, although I was not always completely up-front with everything that I was facing. They always just kept encouraging me to hang in there and keep fighting. Both of them have family members who have struggled with severe depression and other psychological issues so their compassion toward me has always been very genuine in that respect.
It was good to just sit and talk about things. What had happened this summer and how I was dealing with life since, the therapists I was working with, my feelings of asking to be released as RS president, how class has been helping, what I still feared.
We talked quite a bit from the spiritual aspect of it all and how I still struggled at times with feeling like I had done something wrong and this was my punishment. I shared my frustration of the battle between my spiritual and temporal self. Knowing there is this greatness that is in me and not feeling like I am able to "match up" to it. How I see the world differently and how I can see the good in people, as if seeing their spirits. How my life just feels "off" sometimes.
We talked about the role of Satan in things and how when I stood up and decided to get healthy, it was like the hounds of hell had been set loose on me. I shared how I just wanted to give up so many times, and how I still battle the destructive thoughts and desires. Told him I was fighting it though. Was my plan to stick around and see how it all turns out. As for Satan, yah he does not like me very much. He has almost had me in his grip several times and each time I manage to brake free. Yah, he hasn't let me off the hook for that quite yet.
We talked about acceptance and I shared that I was struggling with that. Years ago Lisa told me I was not going to beat these things (depression, PTSD, anxiety, etc), they were a part of me. I could learn to manage them although I was never going to get rid of them. I looked at her and asked if she could teach me how. For the most part I bought into it. Somewhere along the way I fell back into "I can beat this" mode and I have trying to win a battle ever since that can't be won or lost.
Recently, I have been trying to come to terms with...or peace with...or something with it. I really wrestle with the thought, "there is something wrong with me that I cannot fix" and to have to stand and admit this to myself is even harder. There's no one or nothing to blame with this and that makes it difficult, there is no cause, it just is. I can't even say I was dropped on my head as a kid or something like that. There is anger and frustration as a result and no target to point it at, except for myself.
The comparisons to health problems doesn't fly with me because I beat high blood pressure, diabetes, sleep apnea, and more. I beat them. I beat them all. I am never going to beat this though. No matter how hard I try, I can never make it go away. I am having a hard time accepting this and I know I have to. If I am going to move this from battling to managing, I have to accept it, I have to come up with a different way to view it rather than something negative. It is trying to shift the view from broken to unique.
So Papa reminded me that I was special and I was very loved. I was loved by them, others, and especially God. I was important and I had a very valuable purpose here and each day I am touching lives whether I realize it or not. He reminded me that sometimes good things happen to bad people and sometimes really bad things will happen to really good people too. It is how we learn to choose. He encouraged me to keep hanging in there and keep working toward loving myself. He commended me for not giving in or giving up and to just take it one moment at a time. He told me to not be afraid to ask for help and to use the people and resources that God was putting before me. He told me to avoid not choosing something or not talking to someone that can help me simply because I am afraid - if God placed them in my path, it was to help me not scare me.
Then he put his arms around me, called me his daughter, told me he loved me, and held me tight.
Thanks Papa.
(Did not) go out with the team. I actually listened to my body, and when it was only 20 degrees outside when I woke up, I decided that was a little insane. Not so much the riding in the cold weather as taking the chance of getting sick before Thursday. So I rolled back over for another hour then got up. When I got in, they were all doing workouts inside on the rollers, so they didn't go out on the road either!
I ate cookies. Yes, I did and I did not feel guilty and I enjoyed every flipping bite of them. I have been trying so hard to keep low calories and eat my high protein and dairy and vegetables that I think I am going to scream. I guess I can say that the eating issues are going ok - if I compare them to what they had been, yet I'm still struggling with them. Had hoped the trip to the nutritionist would have helped more than it has, although I had hoped it would be a resource I could check in with weekly or every two weeks, not a 6-week window. I will figure it out somehow, yet for today I have chosen cookies...Famous Amos cookies :)
Visited with Papa Dave. As a late teen/young adult, I was quickly adopted into my girl's camp BFF Shauna's family. For years, I would have Sunday dinners and sleepovers with them. When I worked in Champaign, many times I would just go to their house instead of driving all the way home. After I had dropped out of college and was making some rather bad choices for my life, I remember calling Dave one night. I had spent a few nights sleeping in my car because I did not feel I had anywhere else to go, and I asked if I could come stay there. They took me in under the condition I would get get a job and try to get back on my feet. I did. For many, many years he willingly filled a father-figure void in my life (thus becoming my "Papa Dave"). They moved out to Utah almost 20 years ago and still make it back once in a while. This weekend they were here as part of something on campus. I spent some time Friday with Zina and, knowing just how valuable and helpful it would be, went over and visited with Dave this morning for a few hours before they left.
It was good to just sit and talk about things. What had happened this summer and how I was dealing with life since, the therapists I was working with, my feelings of asking to be released as RS president, how class has been helping, what I still feared.
We talked quite a bit from the spiritual aspect of it all and how I still struggled at times with feeling like I had done something wrong and this was my punishment. I shared my frustration of the battle between my spiritual and temporal self. Knowing there is this greatness that is in me and not feeling like I am able to "match up" to it. How I see the world differently and how I can see the good in people, as if seeing their spirits. How my life just feels "off" sometimes.
We talked about the role of Satan in things and how when I stood up and decided to get healthy, it was like the hounds of hell had been set loose on me. I shared how I just wanted to give up so many times, and how I still battle the destructive thoughts and desires. Told him I was fighting it though. Was my plan to stick around and see how it all turns out. As for Satan, yah he does not like me very much. He has almost had me in his grip several times and each time I manage to brake free. Yah, he hasn't let me off the hook for that quite yet.
We talked about acceptance and I shared that I was struggling with that. Years ago Lisa told me I was not going to beat these things (depression, PTSD, anxiety, etc), they were a part of me. I could learn to manage them although I was never going to get rid of them. I looked at her and asked if she could teach me how. For the most part I bought into it. Somewhere along the way I fell back into "I can beat this" mode and I have trying to win a battle ever since that can't be won or lost.
Recently, I have been trying to come to terms with...or peace with...or something with it. I really wrestle with the thought, "there is something wrong with me that I cannot fix" and to have to stand and admit this to myself is even harder. There's no one or nothing to blame with this and that makes it difficult, there is no cause, it just is. I can't even say I was dropped on my head as a kid or something like that. There is anger and frustration as a result and no target to point it at, except for myself.
The comparisons to health problems doesn't fly with me because I beat high blood pressure, diabetes, sleep apnea, and more. I beat them. I beat them all. I am never going to beat this though. No matter how hard I try, I can never make it go away. I am having a hard time accepting this and I know I have to. If I am going to move this from battling to managing, I have to accept it, I have to come up with a different way to view it rather than something negative. It is trying to shift the view from broken to unique.
So Papa reminded me that I was special and I was very loved. I was loved by them, others, and especially God. I was important and I had a very valuable purpose here and each day I am touching lives whether I realize it or not. He reminded me that sometimes good things happen to bad people and sometimes really bad things will happen to really good people too. It is how we learn to choose. He encouraged me to keep hanging in there and keep working toward loving myself. He commended me for not giving in or giving up and to just take it one moment at a time. He told me to not be afraid to ask for help and to use the people and resources that God was putting before me. He told me to avoid not choosing something or not talking to someone that can help me simply because I am afraid - if God placed them in my path, it was to help me not scare me.
Then he put his arms around me, called me his daughter, told me he loved me, and held me tight.
Thanks Papa.