BAND OF ANGELS

First, a disclaimer: No one thinks I "sing" in the sense of making music. I am more a bullfrog when it comes to that, but, hey, God loves bullfrogs, too.
My husband says I sing my one note very well. My daughter thinks my one note is always flat. I think I sing adequately if I'm accompanying, unbeknownst to her, Anne Murray. I can manage Karen Carpenter, too.
However, operatic sopranos give me migraines, and I believe it was no coincidence that The Sopranos was the name chosen for a Mafia family on a TV series.
As for Advent hymns, they make me impatient. I want the real thing -- the carols. Patience is one virtue that I have no use for at Christmas.
As a child, my sisters and I sang our hearts out as we played two old LPs by Mitch Miller over and over in the weeks leading to Christmas. Because we were in Sunday School (going there directly while our parents headed to the service), we got to indulge ourselves each week as our various teachers mimeographed (and doesn't that word age me?) sheets of lyrics for us to memorize for those wonderful old Christmas pageants.
I love the lighting of the Advent candles and the readings and rituals that go with it, but give me a full month of real carols, because I love this time of year and it seems that, the older I get, the more I need the magic and spirit of Christmas Day.
When you are a child, it comes naturally; when you have children of your own, it is such a joyful time. Now we have two young adults in the house -- and hanging stockings and decorating are not high on their list of fun any more.
I think they need a visit from three ghosts on Christmas Eve. I indulged myself in a little cry the past week when I remembered their glowing little faces of only a few short years ago, and their making gingerbread houses, or helping me to bake or make the stuffing. They couldn't wait for the tree to go up, and to decorate the windows. Each one had an Advent calendar, though a couple of times they got ahead of themselves and there'd be some missing chocolate behind a few doors. What I wouldn't give to have those days back again.
Grandkids would bring some of that back (note to kids: not right away, please!), but it's a different experience. They would bring joy, but their parents would be more directly involved. The everyday fun would be at a different house. Though I do hear that it's very relaxing to be able to hand them over to someone else after a long day.
I guess what's making me so nostalgic is Chris leaving for Seattle and his new career early in January, making his own way in life. I thought his leaving for university was heart-wrenching: I have no idea how I'll survive this! And next fall, Nat will be in university, though close enough to live at home if she wants.
But there is always a rainbow, and the dogs are it. Christmas is special for them, too. They always try to eat everything from tree decorations to pine cones to nativity figures. (Ours are olive wood, made in Bethlehem and given to us a long time ago by a wonderful woman who belonged to our church.) Of course, wood is almost as good as food (but turkey is No. 1) to a retriever, especially our golden, Purdy. She, in turn, has passed the tradition on to Zeke, our young and goofy black Lab/greyhound.
So, the nativity scene has been set up high, so as to avoid temptation, as have the stockings. Not that I don't think they could figure out how to get them, but they'd make enough noise in their efforts that we'd hear them. (I hope and pray.)

**********************************************************************

IN GRATITUDE
I want to thank the Caring Team, through Lorraine Mitchell, for all the support and kind words that keep me going. They touch my heart each time, and seem to come just when they are needed the most. I can't even begin to tell you how much you all mean to me. God bless you.
xo

The weight news: At the end of Week 38, I weigh 255.75, down 91.25 pounds since March 13, when I went on the preop meal plan two weeks before surgery.
I had a private goal, set only a couple of months ago, of losing 100 pounds by the end of this year. It will be close, but I'm determined. Halfway is 103.5 pounds. I expect I should be there sometime in January.
It would be a wonderful way to begin 2010 if I do drop 100. Bless you all for my band. You have given me back my life and I can't say "thank you" enough times.
xo

I must apologize for not writing, but I've been concentrating on home life and my weight-loss doldrums.
I have been bouncing between a maximum of 271 and 262.5 since my fill and defill in September. It's been a long haul, and I've been mostly discouraged.
However, I went for a fill last Saturday, a very small one because 0.25ccs was too much before, and -- with lots of care -- this one appears to have taken. Instead of being on full fluids for one day and then returning to solids, I've been on full fluids and some soft food all week. I also was told to rest and not strain myself, so no Dorothy and no swimming. It felt really odd not doing much in terms of exercise.
I started knitting a shoulder wrap just to have something to keep my hands busy and, wouldn't you know it, I strained my left eye this time. I have an optical appointment in mid-December, so I'll finally be able to get a new prescription and get glasses with the correct lenses, assuming the budget will allow it then. Andy and Nat will have appointments, too, and that will mean three new pairs of glasses.
It seems I bruise and swell easily when the band is tightened with more saline. So a slow approach is best afterward. I probably will stay with this food plan for a few more days and then very gradually introduce solids.
In September, I weighed 266. Last Saturday, I was 266.5. Today, at the end of Week 35, I have dropped to 263.5 -- down three this week and 83.5 pounds in total. I am one pound away from my lowest weight so far on this journey.
Next week, I will resume full exercise. I'm really praying that the scale will continue downward and I can escape this roller-coaster.
There's still a lot of stress in my life that I cannot escape, but I have been able to feel more positive this past week.
Now I just have to get through Christmas, with all those mouth-watering ads on TV. Luckily, I can no longer eat all the products being shown, but part of me longs for the old days, when I could feast for a month.
I need to keep a very narrow focus and banish my internal demons. There will be no treats in this house unless the other three people here can eat them in one sitting, away from me and without me knowing.
Like pigs finding truffles, I can smell chocolate in any form. And I'm pretty good at scenting anything sweet and/or fattening, whether it contains chocolate or not. I'm rather like our beloved dogs in this ability, except that they are omnivorous and I have yet to eat a sock or lick the floor after a spill.
Oh, BTW, before I sign off, we are coping with the one vehicle, four people conundrum for now. Chris's hours have changed to the overnight shift, so he takes the van and so far gets back home just in time for Nat to get to school. Andy's making do with biking or taking transit to work.
Biking gets him home in about 30 minutes. Transit takes up to 1.5 hours. I may end up driving him there and back this winter, which will mean an awfully early start to my day. But who needs sleep? Meanwhile, many thanks to the three people who contacted me about the transportation issue. I valued your suggestions highly and greatly appreciated your concern.
xo

Hello, faithful friends,
I have a problem, now a huge one, of transportation. With three people here, we were able to cope with our old 2000 Windstar.
However, we now have good news and bad.
The good is that Chris has got a full-time job (hurray!!!) beginning some time in January in Seattle (sob!!), writing programs for Amazon.com.
The bad news is that Chris has got a part-time job for the interval working at a Best Buy in Burlington stocking shelves.
His hours are all over the place, and there are no GO train/buses for the times he starts, or sometimes the times he ends.
If he takes the van, Andy can still get back and forth to work by GO, but I'm left with no way to swim -- and I can't give that up -- go to doctors' appts or to pick up Nat after school on band days and curling days.
Sooooo, I'm wondering if any of you has a lead on a car that is past its prime, languishing as it waits for the scrap heap. We will pay to get it up and running, and pay to rent it, until Chris is done with his Best Buy job. I will be the only one driving it. I have a five-star insurance rating. Another option is to find someone with a connection to a rental company. I've checked a few places, and the cost is really high, beyond our budget. But I won't give up swimming and the only other solution is taxis, which isn't a solution at all given our income.
I know it's a bad time of year to be asking this, but if anyone's parents are thinking about giving up driving because of age, we could maybe strike a deal to rent or buy from them for a couple of months.
Any and all advice or help would be greatly appreciated.
I just got hit with notice of Chris's two shifts for the coming week, and they are long and start at 6 a.m.
You can email me at swimgirl@cogeco.ca so you don't have to go through the blog. Or, you could phone me. I don't want to publish our number here because it's unlisted, but we're in the church directory. If you don't have a copy, the church office can provide you with our number.
I wish we lived in an era where we could just be beamed to where we want to go, but we were born too early. I'd love to be able to say, "Beam me to the pool." But I think that will be after my lifetime.
In the meantime, I appreciate you taking the time to read this. Live long and prosper.
xo

Today, I weigh 264 pounds, only 1.5 above my lowest level so far. So, as far as the Battle of My Bulge goes, I'm feeling moderately good about myself.
I've stuck to a good, regular timetable for eating and I've eliminated all carbs, sticking to protein mainly.
That and the exercise seem to be working again. I'll see how things go next Saturday, when I have booked a fill or a consultation. I want to see if I can get a wee amount of saline added, but not to the point where I get sick with acid reflux and can't take in anything, including water. That's what happened in September.
If we decide I don't need a fill at this point, I still want to get weighed on the special scale so I can see if my muscle mass has grown and my body fat decreased. Because muscle is denser, it doesn't have as much mass as a pound of fat. So I can be losing inches but not necessarily pounds. I want to compare my readings with those I had the last time. I basically just need to check in with a member of the support team.
As for different aspects of my life, my best response is that old punchline: "Well, other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?"
xo
Update: I swam 3k today! The lengths swim went till 3, but because of time constraints in meeting Nat for a ride home, I swam only till I'd completed 120 lengths. We'll see how the knees are tomorrow.

I am not in a good place right now, for various reasons. There are too many struggles on too many fronts and I don't have a lot of inner armed forces to take it all on successfully. In some places, I'm hanging on by my fingertips. Regarding others, I'm trying hard not to retreat into a cave and barricade myself in.
On the weight front, which is where my spirits can be raised, I got up to 270 again a couple of weeks ago and have got down to 267 by today. However, despite eating protein and swimming hard, I feel that I should have shown more of a loss.
I've been stuck in a rut without steadily going down for some time. The lowest I've been is 262.5, or 4.5 below my current weight.
I've sent in a request for a fill in November. I hope there's no adverse reaction to it as there was last time. But something has to give, and I'm praying this is the way to go about it.
I don't know when the fill date is: Slimband has gone to a policy of not posting fill calendars; we simply specify the location we'd prefer and then set a time.
I'll post Friday with my weight then, and I'll hopefully have a date for a fill to tell you about.
All I can ask is that you pray for me, on my weight-loss journey and on all my family relationships.
God bless all of you, too.
xo

Copyright: John Bettis, Richard Carpenter

I'll say goodbye to love
No one ever cared if I should live or die
Time and time again the chance for love has passed me by
And all I know of love is how to live without it
I just can't seem to find it

So I've made my mind up
I must live my life alone
And though it's not the easy way
I guess I've always known
I'd say goodbye to love

There are no tomorrows for this heart of mine
Surely time will lose these bitter memories
And I'll find that there is someone to believe in
And to live for something I could live for

All the years of useless search
Have finally reached an end
Loneliness and empty days will be my only friend
From this day love is forgotten
I'll go on as best I can

What lies in the future is a mystery to us all
No one can predict the wheel of fortune as it falls
There may come a time when I will see that I've been wrong
But for now this is my song

And it's goodbye to love
I'll say goodbye to love

Sigh. That's my biggest comment to make. I had a horrible week emotionally from things happening in my personal life. You name it, it's been a spectacular wreck.
I feel raw, as if I've been skinned and turned inside out. My night snack, although it was only a cup, was chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.
I've been stuffing it all down and knew it while I was doing it, but I could see no other way out except suicide.
And that's not an option I can take. I wish it were. I wish I didn't have to care about how it would affect people, even when I'm being sliced open.
But like the pigeon-holed "good girl" I've become through a lifetime of wanting to please and then been found wanting, of wanting to be truly loved and not receiving it, I find I still feel responsible for everyone else's well-being and I end up miserable, as often happens.
It sucks and I suck. I am in despair. And I'm despairing of myself today. I didn't lose any weight, but I gained a few pounds. All because of chocolate, all because of self-loathing and all because I feel scared and alone.
So, I'm climbing back on the demon and I'll be damned if I'll let myself get thrown off again.
To heck with letting my pain push me into old and bad patterns of behaviour. I am more determined than ever to win this war. I may have to retreat and reform, but I'll never give back what ground I've gained again.
I'd rather die. I will flog myself into shape if that's what it takes. I WILL go back to basics and get myself a steady run of success.
I promise that I will no longer try to self-medicate. If I have to, I will check into hospital. I will not sink further into depression despite strangling pain. I will fight to regain my dedication to my food plan. I will depend only on me. I will accept pain, anger and hurt and deal with them without food. They will become motivators and not millstones.
I will learn to like myself, no matter how long it takes. I will not allow anything to derail me. I will make myself feel the negative and not try to stuff it down. I will endure, even if I have to stand alone.
I will be eternally grateful to those who love me unconditionally. I will not let them down again.
I will take on the whole world if I have to. Starting right now, I will follow the course that is best for me. I will build boundaries to protect me better. I will not regret any people who judge me and then discard me. I will not allow their opinions to sway me from my focus, no matter how much I am hurt.
I will fight for me. Nothing matters but my successful journey to mental and physical health. I can endure any pain to get there.
I will try to avoid anyone who is unhealthy for me to be around. Even if I have to sleep a lot to avoid the brooding that gets me craving bad things for my recovery, I will not feel guilty for using sleep as a tool.
I WILL NO LONGER GIVE IN, TO MY DEMONS OR TO MY SICKNESS.

Lis Wheable came over with her camera again just over a week ago, and the resulting picture makes an interesting comparison with one taken by Liesa Kortmann, the Oakville Beaver photographer for the feature story that, more than nine months ago now, helped this journey to get started.

This will be a short post after my long one -- lots has happened, and not happened, personally -- but the good news is that I lost the three pounds I had gained to 269 and now weigh 262.5, for a total loss of 84.5 pounds.
I hope to have lost 100 by the end of the year. I did penance for indulging in some ice cream, piling protein upon protein over the past week and a half. And I have new muscle, so although I've lost fat, I've gained in muscle weight but lost in inches.
I hope to have some pix up in the near future when Lis gets a chance to send me the one she took last week of me in the red summer dress she bought for my various July receptions.
It is now a bit big on me, which is most gratifying.
And my swimming is burning about 1,000 to 1,150 calories daily -- that's where the new muscle mass comes in.
In my next post, when I get up the energy , I'll talk of other things. (Can you tell Dorothy was just here, working me out on weights and resistance exercises?) My heart rate is still up, so it was an excellent session, as always.
My BP, which I sometimes measure if I'm in Shoppers, remains about 106/60, so I'll probably be taken off one of the two meds I'm on for that.
I'm using a special light these days for about 30 minutes to give me the effect of sunshine. I have Seasonal Affective Disorder or SAD, compounded by not being able to walk about in the sunlight because of my knees. The light compensates for that, and helps fight the depression that SAD brings.
So far, I'm not doing too badly, though I am still hurting about several issues. However, I'm trying to battle through and am seeing my psychiatrist on the 29th, so I hope to get a referral to an OHIP psychotherapist. That probably means time on a long waiting list, but it's better to get my name down than to keep putting it off.
See you all in cyberspace again in the next few days, my faithful readers.
xo

I got on the scale today to discover I'd gained three pounds, which I want to lose (and more) by Friday. I need a reality check, don't I? The only way to drop those pounds for sure is to go on water for the next few days. And that defeats the purpose of my eating plan.
I have eaten my snacks too late at night the past week. I have had ice cream twice since Monday. I'm using my night cravings to bury all the negative feelings I've been having lately.
Some come from external sources, such as worry about a brother-in-law who is having prostate surgery in the near future and about my dad getting hit by a car from behind while on the opposite side of the road -- a reckless driver backing down his driveway and all the way across the street -- and having his ankle run over after being knocked down and hitting his head. He is doing okay, but he's badly bruised and probably has torn ligaments (there's swelling, so the X-rays were inconclusive). The police can't charge the driver because it happened in the adult community of Swan Lake, which is deemed private property, ergo no criminal charges, but my parents may be able to sue in civil court for pain and suffering.
Then there are family issues on both sides, plus worries about Chris getting a job and some concerns that I can't go into about Nat. This blog lets me give you part of the picture of my life, but I have got in trouble and been censured and censored by others when I write about my private life, so there's added frustration in those cases. However, I do put them in my food journal. I just can't share with friends online, and that bugs me. However, this is a blog from Maple Grove, and what I write affects others, so though I gnash my teeth sometimes, I have promised to abide by a certain code, one that I don't have to follow in private writings. But it bugs me that the picture here is incomplete sometimes.
So, I have been in some turmoil, and that's not good for my addictions. And I have more than one. It's what makes me believe in the fairly well-accepted theory that there's an addiction gene. With my paternal grandparents and my grandfather's siblings, it was alcohol. Only one was able to be in recovery for half his adult life, and it was through AA. The others were plagued by alcoholism until they died.
On my mother's side, food seems to have been the issue in some cases. Andy's family have their own demons and they manifest themselves in many ways.
With me, my second addiction is shopping. It doesn't have to be for me -- even new towels that are needed will do. Buying gives me a boost in self-esteem. Food merely buries powerful emotions that I can't seem to deal with.
Sometimes I feel so lonely that I don't think I can bear it. I am an extrovert in a house of introverts who like to stay on their own. I feel left out. Most of what I say is ignored or laughed at. Even two emails with a guide as to how to keep things clean and tidy, in the kitchen, for example -- so that I'm not always nagging -- are treated like spam mail. Nothing changes.
That doesn't stop me from worrying, though. I worry about Andy and his job, which he hates but can't escape for financial reasons. I resent having to share the van (and thus my freedom) with so many people, and I am frustrated that they don't take good enough care of it. It's going to be 10 soon, and it's all we've got, but that doesn't seem to register. The doors are slammed, rather than closed with less force. There are heavy feet on the accelerator, which in turn leads to heavy braking and more repairs.
Speed bumps are not handled properly. Doors are shut on seatbelts, which means they are worn and will soon be at the point where they need replacing, which would be more than $1,000. Then I feel guilty because I'm complaining about a vehicle, when half the people in the world are starving and have no shelter. I am a terrible person in that regard.
I've even been wondering if I should just let the blog go. Most of my own family never read it; only one sister ever comments positively online; my in-laws avoid it, I think. I don't hear from old friends or get comments online or even in private emails. And only anger has come from some other people in my families, even though I'm never specific about any issue or say which family. Even my parents don't read it. I hate it when these people ask what's new when they see me, when I'm pouring my heart out (as much as I permit myself) in the blog.
It sets off my "I'll never be good enough" feeling, which I've had since I was a very young child. I've tried to explain why I feel this way, only to be told that either I have a faulty memory or that the feeling is stupid.
But I didn't just decide one day that I wanted to feel this way; there were things that made me believe it. We all have our own memories, but when you are told something never happened and that you are wrong, or when someone argues up and down and sideways about what colour dress you wore at a certain time (and you can prove they're wrong with a picture), it just destroys something in me.
It denies me the right to be correct and to be respected. It denies the validity of my feelings. The other person(s) can be proved wrong, yet they never give in. I feel they are too proud to apologize, or that I am not worth the effort.
So I feel rotten and angry and resentful. And I turn to food to stuff down the hurt. I am not given a chance to heal. I am seen as being a certain type of person, and no one is willing to let me be the real me. I am forced by them to fit into their concept of me, even if it's bad for me or one that lets them feel superior, which means I am denied my very personhood. And so I have very low self-esteem in areas that I value. And these people don't ever really listen. I don't know if it's because they would have to acknowledge their own faults, or if they are blind and in total ignorance as to the effect they have. Some of these people have to be so rigidly in control that they cannot let anything past their armour.
I don't know any more. I try not to judge and let people get to me, but once you let someone get away with interference because they don't respect personal boundaries, then it becomes very hard to re-establish yourself as someone who no longer is willing to wear a tire tread on their forehead. If you do assert yourself, it's seen as aggression, and they become the aggrieved party and blame you.
I have always been one to wear my heart on my sleeve, and I have paid the price. But I think that's better than hiding behind stone walls and taking potshots. It's cowardly.
It's the same with lies and secrets. They are poisonous and can ruin all kinds of relationships. I'd rather be upfront and let the sun in, but too many people like to hide under a rock and ignore the problem, and then there are those who hide so they can strike like a snake.
I have only my faithful church readers to hear me.
I'm sorry to dump this out there, but maybe it will be therapeutic for me. And, please, if anyone knows of a good personal therapist covered by OHIP, please let me know. I'm going to get put on waiting lists, but I sure could use help now. However, I'll get on any list I can.
I need to feel really loved always, not just tolerated or taken for granted 99 per cent of the time. That's what I've felt all my life, and I don't want that; I can't live like that now and I won't accept it. I finally think I deserve better, even though I fall into despair about whether anybody feels I'm worth it.
I cannot remember ever feeling secure for long about people loving me, the ones who matter most. Their love has always seemed dependent on me proving over and over that I'm worth it, and I've always felt a failure at being able to keep someone's love. As far as my life is concerned, unconditional love has come only from my beloved dogs. And that's a very sad thing to live with. I feel so damaged that I often despair at my ability to be mended, and my ability to be loved. Words mean nothing without actions, and actions of love need to be accompanied by true words of cherishing, not just for the moment but forever.
In the meantime, as I pray for all of you, please pray for me. I owe you so much, but I really need the spiritual support. Thanks so much again for your generosity, which comes in so many forms.
xo