I actually had to look up my site to see what I had written about last. I have had a very busy two weeks. We adopted a puppy from a pet rescue in Huntsville, AL. My friend, Lori was so cool, she offered to ride along with me. We had a nice little drive down to banjo country and picked up this adoreable, sweet, spunky little pooch.
Having a new puppy has been fun and stressful all at once. I have forgotten how much work they are and how there has to be constant supervision, constant playing, walking, poop scooping, sometimes waking during the middle of the night and standing in the cold rain at 4 a.m.
I’ve had some other things going on with school, Girl Scouts (I did not push cookies sales this year, I felt like it would make me a hypocrite. I let my kids go and sell, but I didn’t post anything on Facebook or ask anyone to buy them. I didn’t even buy any.)
With these changes and events and still trying to weave my way out of the blues or depression, not sure which one it is, I haven’t tracked my food intake, I didn’t weigh in last week or make a Weight Watchers meeting because I was on a field trip, Thursday. Not going to weigh in often has a very negative affect on me. I feel like it entitles me to get away with something for a little longer. I know that’s ridiculous, but it’s true. My mind is the master of illusions sometimes. I’ll go a day of indulging and not tracking and then convince myself that I’ll do better tomorrow. Then tomorrow comes and I promise to get back on track tomorrow. I know there are many of you that can relate to this mindset.
I keep telling myself to snap out of this funk, but it’s just not happening. I thought I was hiding it pretty well, but a few of my close friends have pointed out that I don’t seem like myself or that they can tell that something is wrong. Guess I should erase Oscar winning actress from my bucket list.
The anniversary of my sister, Brandi’s death is quickly approaching and even though it has been four years since we lost her and there are a number of people that expect me to get over it, I described to my husband the other night with tears in my eyes: imagine that the person in your life that is the first person you call when something great happens or something sad happens or you need advice or you just want to goof around and have someone make you laugh for a minute, the person that grew up with you and has seen you at your worst and best and has loved you through it all, then imagine what it would feel like if they were just gone. That person was just taken out of your life unexpectedly, then multiply the pain that you think you would feel from that loss by ten thousand. That’s how badly I hurt.
As time goes on, I do find myself laughing about things we did or shared or enjoy special memories, but the pain comes often when I think about that it has been four years since I have heard her sweet voice over the phone and that hilarious laugh she had. It has been four years since we hugged when she left my house after visiting for Christmas and I always loved the way her hair smelled. It has been so long since we danced to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”, went to the store to buy yarn so she could teach me to knit, which I never picked up on no matter how many times she patiently showed me, since we talked about our kids, since we said “I love you”.
What I hate the most about the anniversary is thinking about the events of that horrible day. I hate that the last time I talked to my sweet Brandi, she was dying and neither of us knew it. I told her to call the doctor and that I would call her back to check on her later. I could never in a million years ever imagined that it would be the last time we would talk. I could have never imagined that my 29 year old sister was having a heart attack. I could have never imagined that mine and my family’s life would be forever changed.
I remember right after I lost my sister, I asked my friend, Rosemary, who has lost a brother, how I would ever get over it and she told me that I wouldn’t. She said, “you won’t get over it, you just find a way to get through it”. Over the years I have learned what she meant by that.
I finally told myself, yesterday that I was going to get up and make the best of the day and it was a good day. Today began well with spin class, hot yoga, walking my puppy, but then towards the end of the day, I wanted to erupt into an ugly cry and punch and tear things apart because I simply miss my sister.
As I write this, I realize that all I can do is try to keep making a difference and get the message out there for women to recognize the symptoms of a heart attack. http://www.womenheart.org/supportForWomen/prevention/questionHeartAttack.cfmTo get the message out there that if you are obese and you think it won’t shorten your life, you are kidding yourself.
I’m also giving myself permission as of this moment to be sad. I give myself permission to do what I need to do to get through this. I will be at my Weight Watchers meeting in the morning for weigh in. I can’t jeopardize my health because I’m having a rough time. I owe it to myself and to my family. Tomorrows weigh in isn’t about how much I gained, it’s about being accountable and trying.
