Life & Health - A Journey

As this website is all about the journey, let me talk a little about the latest: my quest to get stronger and lose some body fat. I’ll warn you: Womanly health talk follows. If that’s not your gig, stop reading now.

I’m not a real scale-obsessed person. I didn’t spend a lifetime on a diet, never really had to worry about what I ate or how much. Genetically, I was blessed with a decent metabolism and overall, pretty decent health. All of that took a hard turn when I hit my mid-40s. Suddenly, midsection body fat started piling on, energy levels went up and down, mental health took a downward turn and everything in general felt really out-of-sorts. That was the best way I could describe it: Just out-of-sorts.

Then 50 came. It all got just a little bit more awful. I don’t really know what to do with any of this. Of course, I did what any true American does and I googled that shit. And you know what it tells me???? Want to know what the wonderful world of internet medicine says???? That it’s all normal for someone of my age. That these are just symptoms of perimenopause and I can tell my doctor if I want, but they’ll just put it in my file and tell me it’s normal. And you know what else??? Apparently this hormonal purgatory can last for several YEARS! YEARS! Like menopause is a nice stagnant pool of womanliness, but perimenopause hates your fucking guts for years. It will just keep punching you in the face with symptoms until one of you gives up. I can’t say I’m a fan at this point. I vacillate between feeling slightly ick, to feeling godawful. Occasionally, happy times are thrown in, but it takes a ton of effort. And who do you talk to about this?

Other women, who are getting the same sucker punch every day, and are just trying to hold it together?

Your doctor, who is hearing it from all sides and has very little sympathy?

MEN?!?!?!!?

There’s just no fucking place to turn.

So I’m holding it together, barely, and trying to maintain. The more I learn, the easier it is to endure but goddamn, I sure know why some women are driven to homicide. I had a problem separating hangers today and I could have easily killed the first person to talk to me in those few seconds. I mean I wouldn’t, of course. I don’t think 🤔

Deeper Into Grief

Today, I received the items I picked out from my dad’s personal effects that I wanted. Some pictures, some of his pins and medals, etc. But the most important thing was his flight jacket.

Now let me preface all of this by saying that, I LOVED being a military brat. I loved the pageantry of military events, I loved going to the hangar on Christmas and having Santa land in a helicopter, I loved going to a DoD school and learning military ranks and history. And I learned that THIS was my connection with my dad. He was the reason I was a military kid, and I admired him and was amazed by him, and I very much wish I would have told him this sooner. My heart aches at my stubbornness and stoicism and the IDGAF attitude that made me hold out. And honestly, he’s the reason I’m this way, so really, it’s all his fault.

Seriously, though, it’s important that I move beyond blame. It’s too late for that. It can’t be fixed, so what do I do in this void of options? I can remember, I can be better, and I can vow not to let this stand in the way of any other relationships. Holding the flight jacket, a flood of memories and feelings came back with the smell of leather and the mixture of a child’s memories of her dad doing his awesome job. And her memories of a time she called him “daddy” and was so proud to be his daughter. There’s no going back, but I can learn to move forward and learn to let people know when they’re important to me.

So I’ll be working on that. It will take time and effort. And I won’t necessarily do it right. But I owe it to myself, and to the memory of a man who was my father, and deserved to know how much I loved him. I can only hope there is someplace that exists where he does.

A Return in Brief (and Grief)

After another several months, I’m returning, hopefully regularly. And much like an irritating ex, I’m only here because I need you.

My father passed away yesterday. Technically, he’s my stepfather, but that’s not important. He’s been the only father I’ve known my whole life. What IS important is that he was largely an “absent” father. Now, that wouldn’t have been so bad if our mother wasn’t as mentally ill as she was. I can see why running interference with an unmedicated, untreated, probably bipolar woman doesn’t sound fun, and why instead he chose to leave a lot. But there were still some pretty perplexing choices that were made by him, and suffice to say, since moving out of my parents’ house, our relationship has not been close. When I do come into town, it’s to meet him down at his local bar or VFW and have a drink and meet his cronies (again) who can confuse me with my sister (again). There’s no family dinners or chatting over a card game, just hanging out at the bar until I can politely leave.

He’s lived with my sister and her family for several years, and she’s been a saint. Making sure he eats and checking in on him, trying to get him (unsuccessfully) to go to the doctor, and just in general keeping the old man ticking. I’m glad she was there for him, and I’m sorry that she had to find him. But thankfully, he went peacefully.

All of this to say that my grief is complicated. I’m sorry we couldn’t mend the rift between us before he passed, but that mending is a two-way street and I can’t take all the responsibility for that. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have had a better relationship, but again, that was something he could have started doing many years ago when I was a 17-year-old living on my own because my mother decided that I needed to leave. For the record, I was a good kid. Keeping my grades up, making my parents proud, not bringing embarrassment on the family, was SUPER important to me. I was quite the boring young person! Why my mother decided I couldn’t live there anymore was beyond me, but I honestly expected my relationship with my father to improve without the influence of my mother. It never happened. He never reached out, so what is a 17 year old supposed to think, except that neither of her parents loved her anymore.

And that’s our relationship then until now, 35 years later. I’m sure there’s some sort of grieving I should or need to do, but honestly, I’m not sure how to go about it. I’ll work on it. Hopefully talk to friends about it. Get some insight. Until then, maybe some introspection, some mindfulness, some meditation. I know grief is a process. I just wish it was the same process for everyone so I knew what to do.

Recall

Proponents’ Statement of Reasons TO THE HONORABLE GAVIN NEWSOM:

Pursuant to section 11020, California Elections Code, the undersigned registered qualified voters of the State of California, hereby give notice, we are the proponents of a recall petition and we intend to seek your recall and removal from the office of Governor in the State of California and to demand election of a successor in that office. The grounds for this recall are as Follows: Governor Newsom has implemented laws which are detrimental to the citizens of this state and our way of life. Laws he endorsed favor foreign nationals, in our country illegally, over that of our own citizens. People in this state suffer the highest taxes in the nation, the highest homelessness rates, and the lowest quality of life as a result. He has imposed sanctuary state status and fails to enforce immigration laws. He unilaterally over-ruled the will of the people regarding the death penalty. He seeks to impose additional burdens on our state by the following; removing the protections of Proposition 13, rationing our water use, increasing taxes and restricting parental rights. Having no other recourse, we the people have come together to take this action, remedy these misdeeds and prevent further injustices.

As most of everyone heard, a recall election was recently held in California. This process was spearheaded by a bunch of Trump-loving simpletons and to say it was infuriating would be an understatement. Not only did it cost California $330 million to do a thing that was only a year away from being decided in a regular election, but the division it caused in the state was severe. Not only that, but the lies that it was about Newsome’s mishandling of the COVID-19 pandemic caused confusion and anger. Officially, these people just had a problem with Newsome being compassionate to…well….anyone!

Now I’m not in any way a Newsome superfan. As a matter of fact, I’m hoping for a very viable alternative when elections come up in 2022, but what a waste of time and money this was! All it did was make clear how petty an entire group of people can be with the backing of a rich sociopath.

I’m glad that my fellow Californians saw this for what it was and defeated it. It was close for a bit and worrisome but in the end, we did the right thing and for that, I’m grateful.

Look Around...

Look around, look around
Look at where you are
Look at where you started
The fact that you're alive is a miracle
Just stay alive, that would be enough

—-That Would Be Enough, from “Hamilton”

While I love Hamilton as much as the next person, when this song popped up on my shuffle, these lyrics meant something different to me, given that September is Suicide Prevention Month.

Given the past year and a half (or 100 in Pandemic Years) it’s becoming increasingly harder to appreciate the little things in life that usually keep us going in difficult times. Beauty, wonder, adventure, have been elusive and harder to get a hold of. And it’s been really easy to slip into despair and hopelessness. I know people are struggling to pull themselves out of that quagmire, and to them I say, “Look at where you started. The fact that you’re alive is a miracle” You held it together during this time. You woke up every day, even on the days you weren’t sure you wanted to. You’re here, and to me, that took guts and fortitude, and it makes you amazing. Keep staying amazing, everyone. Let’s try to be there for each other, but if you can’t manage that, at least be there for yourself. There’s someone who doesn’t want to lose you. And eventually, when we get back to “normal” we’ll all have a beer together.

Love Myself

I’ve been trying to find myself

Started seeing that love is wealth

Holding on to my dreams of full ascension

Looking out on a whole new plane…

-Mad Caddies, Love Myself

This popped up on my shuffle, and it was pretty timely. I was just having a discussion about our “sense of purpose” and our “legacies” particularly as we get older. In our later years, most of us have our basic needs met. Especially if you spent a lot of years struggling, that contentment, at least for me, has left me searching around for my sense of purpose and what will be my legacy after I’m gone. We all like to say our children are our legacy, but that doesn’t seem right to me. They are their own people, and with any luck, they are their OWN legacy. We don’t get to claim them or saddle them with that burden. It isn’t up to them to fulfill our sense of purpose.

So, what is your legacy? What fulfills your sense of purpose? How will you know when you’ve done it? Do you have an end game?

Back In The Saddle

Before launching into this, I should probably explain what brought me back to this. It’s actually two-fold: a) I started Neil Gaiman’s writing MasterClass and b) out of curiosity, I signed onto my old LiveJournal account. Also, as an aside, it seems LiveJournal not only still exists, but is somewhat active. Who knew!?

Anyway, these things together had the benefit of re-igniting a desire to express myself in writing. I’m not sure how I will go about this, but I’m going to try much harder than I have in the past. I’ve even set a daily reminder! I think, at the beginning at least, I’m going to use a daily writing prompt. In the past, I’ve shuffled through my MP3 and used song lyrics as a prompt. I think I’ll do that again, except I have all of Apple Music to inspire me now!

Woohoo! I’m pretty excited! See you here tomorrow!

Pandemic Thoughts

Hello, again—-

Yep, been awhile. I keep promising I will add content regularly and then……I disappear for a year again. I will get the hang of things eventually. Maybe I should set a reminder?

Anyway, I have something I want to discuss. In general, it’s on tipping service people, because if there’s one thing I’ve discovered during the Time Of COVID, it’s that us white people are some overbearing, entitled motherfuckers. Not only do we generally come from a place of privilege granted simply by our melanin-deficient mugs, but we somehow think we EARNED it. Now that's some shit! And while this was driven home most uncomfortably in the early days of lockdown, nowhere have I seen the affects so starkly as when I decided to start driving for GrubHub.

Now, I have a decent full-time career, and I admit, I’ve mainly started delivery driving as a way to break up the monotony of Lockdown Life. I love my life, my husband and my dog, but we could all use a bit of a break from each other, even BEFORE my dog managed to get herself skunked (which is a story for another time). I only take short blocks of 1-1 1/2 hours, and they’re usually during non-peak times (those fill up fast) but one thing I’ve learned in my short time: all of you need to seriously re-assess where you are on the privilege spectrum. You’re willing to fork out money to order takeout, be a pain in the ass by changing orders or adding orders or whatever, ordering INSANE amounts of food, and then what? Tip $1.00???? Now I’m picking on white folks here, but I admit, I’ve rarely come face-to-face with any of my delivery customers thanks to Contact Free Delivery. I’m mainly assuming, but even if it isn’t ALL white people, I’m still picking on you because honestly, it carries over into what I see in grocery stores, restaurants, and any other business still running during this time.

What I’m saying is, this is a trying time for everyone, and we’re all facing our own sets of personal challenges. Do you really want to be the reason someone else’s life is a little more difficult? I think this is a serious question you should ask yourself before you interact with another human. Take a moment and say, “Would saying/doing this make me ANY level of asshole?” Chances are, what you’re about to do, will.

I'll Get The Hang Of This

So, Juneathon was going to be a running month, but I discovered that running is unpleasant for me. Too many unexplainable pains, especially knees and hips. I think I want to lose some weight, and then give it another try. I really like running, mostly. I just don’t like the joint pain. When I workout with weights, I only have normal muscle aches and pains, and those go away.

Anyway, enough of that.

The past couple of weeks have been unprecedented in racial violence and unrest. As a white person, I know my place in all of this, and I also have come face to face with my responsibility, as well. No matter what I’ve done up until now, it’s not enough. When strangers think they have found a kindred soul and will spew racist shit with no hesitation at me, I know I haven’t done enough. Granted, they probably feel comfortable because I’m white, but that’s not ok, either. And honestly, this kind of shit never happened to me until the current administration. It’s obvious some pretty despicable humans feel emboldened lately, and that’s more than a little problematic. But another problem is my unwillingness to call these people out right then. I know self-preservation plays a part in my decision, but so does avoidance of conflict, especially with an unknown. It’s something I’m hoping to get better about.

I’m currently reading “How To Be An Antiracist” by Ibram X. Kendi, and have joined an online book club to discuss it. Of course, the entire club of 20+ people are all white, which is good and bad. I fear that it will eventually devolve into a bunch of overeducated folks (most are teachers) thinking that by admitting their racism, their work is done. We’ve only had one meeting, so I’m giving it time. I’m not sure how much they’ve truly internalized that admission, or if it’s just for show. But there I go, judging and choosing to see the worst in people I don’t know. I’m hoping to get better about that, as well.

Anyway, how are you all doing?

Juneathon-First Week

A little late, but my first week was a success.

I started back to a running program about 5 weeks ago. Trying the Jeff Galloway system this time around. I’ve always been a Couch To 5K advocate, and I still am, but the Galloway method is pretty amazing! I might be a convert!

I haven’t missed a day of doing SOMETHING, even if it’s a short yoga session. And while I’m feeling amazing, I’m a little disappointed at lack of results. I decided to go with pictures as a way of tracking my progress, and I’m not sure that was the way to go. I might need something with numbers. I’m not a fan of the scale, so I’ll try tape measuring.

I’m also wondering if I just need to dial in my diet a bit better. I realize being a woman of a certain age slows this all down, but logic has no place when I’m looking at myself naked in a mirror.

How’s everyone else’s journey going? What are you working on?

A Return, of sorts.

Good morning, beautiful people!

I sit here after almost two years of radio silence, cobbling together some thoughts to share.

As you know, a lot is happening right now (understatement). Personally, a lot changed about a year and a half ago when I took a job on the west coast, while my husband stayed in Colorado. The job was in a completely new field for me, so we wanted to give it a trial run before we moved the household. We thought we would be strong enough to handle it, and we did. But what we learned was that is something we will NEVER do again. If you ever need help with navigating a similar situation, hit me up in the contact page and I can give you some advice.

So just before the shit hit the pandemic fan, husband, dog and one of our children hit the road and traveled west to join me. We got lucky and found a wonderful rental near the beach, the job is going well, and just a couple weeks after they got here, we were in lockdown. Talk about a trial by fire! We hadn’t lived together for over a year, and now, we were living together constantly. It has its challenges, but we’re both still alive. Again, want some help with a similar situation, hit me up!

Health and wellness has been a challenge. Our household has a joyous array of mental issues to deal with that have been draining motivation. We’ve gained weight, gotten sluggish, and just….ugh. Comfort food and boredom eating have gotten the best of us. Now we’re jumpstarting things by joining Juneathon again, and I’ll be blogging about that, so watch this space!

Judge not......

More than once I’ve been accused of being judgmental.

Judgment: noun: the forming of an opinion, estimate, notion, or conclusion, as from circumstances presented to the mind.

Yes, I do that. I do that all the time. I will form an opinion about lots of things, including people. And then, if evidence presents itself that this judgment was wrong, I will modify my opinion. People, circumstances, everything in life, is an ever-evolving process. And if you DON’T do that, I feel very sorry for you. Because what you’re saying is “everyone, everything, every situation, is equal in my mind and they all deserve to be treated equally.” Not only does that seem unnecessarily difficult and unfair, but it could even be dangerous. Is there nothing that gives you pause? Do you never feel fear, or at least imminent danger? Why do you think everything deserves equal treatment from you?

But let me be very clear: judging someone I’ve recently met is NOT the same as saying they don’t deserve to exist, or be loved and cared about, to be treated like a human being. It is merely saying that you don’t have a place in MY mind, MY heart, yet. And if as a friend or loved one you feel judged by me, what you’re really saying is “why can’t you accept what I’ve done or said, no matter how foolish, or mean-spirited, or ugly, without questioning it and stop looking at me like that!”

So as a group, let’s maybe use the right words. It’s probably not “judgmental” you mean to call me. Or maybe it really has nothing to do with me at all. Maybe you’re projecting something onto me that you feel deficient about, or that you chose poorly, or your self-esteem took a hit that had nothing to do with me. And if it DID have something to do with me, let’s talk about it. If I did something wrong, I would love the opportunity to fix it. But hurling a word at me then walking away is not helpful.

And if you’re experiencing this in your own life, either as a hurler or hurlee, let’s take a step back, take a breath, and REALLY look at the situation, with honest eyes, heart, and mind, and be willing to accept that you might be wrong.

Very few people have died from being wrong.

Today is the first day........

I’ve decided to make this site about journeys because, frankly, I always feel like I’m on one. I’m always trying to be better: healthier, stronger, a better friend, a better person. And I know I’m not alone.

So where am I currently?

I’m weeks away from my 50th birthday (I know, right?), I’m a few months away from graduating from graduate school. I have a good job, a great family, a home and a goofy dog. Despite all the trappings of contentment, I’m never content. I always feel there is something more I could be doing.

I suspect I’m not alone in these feelings.

For those who have wandered here, consider this a cozy little tavern with comfy chairs, a cheery fire, and probably your favorite alcoholic beverage. Or non-alcoholic. Whatever. We don’t judge.