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Monday, Sept. 15, 2003 - 9:39 P.M.
Insignificance
Today's weight: 8000 pounds Original Weight: 212.5 Total loss: me
I'm having a crisis.
I don't usually do this when I'm taking my medication, and I AM taking it. As far as I can tell I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing, or at least all I seem to be able to do and still it doesn't matter. Nothing really seems to matter.
MOTH decided some brief time ago that he wanted to lose weight. No fanfare. No announcements. No daily posts. Just decided. The man who eats a dozen cookies at a sitting, wakes in the middle of the night for more cookies and/or ice cream and/or cold milk. The man who always has scads of candy around him, never without a peppermint stick in his mouth. He just decides that he'll drink more water. And he's surpassed me. Yeah. Just like that. He even has low blood pressure from the weight loss! He continues to encourage me, and he's never even come close to pressuring me about my weight, but I feel like a failure anyway.
He walks, he doesn't get hives on his feet. He invites me, encourages me, to go with him, but I know that if I do I won't be able to walk in the morning. Everyone else can, but I am the lone misfit on the planet who can't walk a city block because her massive girth is breaking down her stupid midget feet because they can't handle the enormous psi (pounds per square inch) ratio. I can't even walk like a human.
My Finchie has been vomiting for a week. And yes, I did finally take him to the Dr. last Thursday and he thought it was a virus. Not strep, we tested. Not ulcer, we tested (again). So he gave him some pills to keep him from puking and said if he didn't stop by Sunday we'd have to admit him to the hospital for I.V. fluids. He took the pills. He stopped puking. This morning he had no more pills. He's puking. Now the Dr. is talking MRI. That means more weird shit in my life, like who the hell has a kid puke for over a week? People must think I'm some kind of freak or just an over exaggerating liar. I swear I'm not, I swear I want to be normal like other people. I can't even mother my Finchie right.
The diet? Shyeah, right. I count my points. I am under or right on most every day. Not so far under that my metabolism is slowed down, believe me. I deviate one bit, like I had a great meal out a week ago (which I will write about soon), or I had a SMALL order of chicken fried rice this weekend, and I bloat up. And on those days, I am so far below my allowed points before that meal that it shouldn't be that bad, and it's only one time per week. W.W. introduced "flex points" to be used like this, and what do I do? I balloon like an idiot. I can't even diet right.
I miss Eldest so bad, I haven't even spoken about it. He's doing so well, he's pulling straight A's and I have no hope of seeing him until Thanks giving or maybe in October, but I miss him so badly, I miss holding him and hugging him and just hearing him or seeing his crooked smirk.
I have an assistant at work so my load should be easier, and yet I am spending hours and hours and hours every day trying to keep ahead to make things work better and smoother. And I guess it does, but it seems that the more efficient I make things, the harder I work behind the scenes to get things to work smoothly, the more invisible and unimportant I feel there. I know that if I were to leave, they would notice my absence, but I feel like I walk around and no one sees me unless I do my song and dance. Unless I don't smile, then everyone seems to see me and make a big deal about why I'm not smiling and so like Marge told Lisa Simpson, I plaster that smile on my face no matter how I feel so that no one knows that I am crying inside.
And I have no idea why I'm crying. The marriage is good, and I honestly mean that. The kids are all getting straight A's. Even though Finchie has missed an entire week of school he emailed his essay projects in and has made all of his work up. Beast is the only one in her class who has turned in every assignment.
But the house is a disaster, and I feel immobilized to do anything about it. And it's my mess. It's all my crap and no one can put it away or figure out what to keep or where to put it. And the more I look at it and the more I plan on how to fix it all up, the more I feel compelled to play spider solitaire so that it just gets worse.
And sometimes I go outside at night when everyone is asleep and I look up and I watch Mars glow brightly along side the moon and I breathe deeply the soon-to-be-autumn air and I weep for absolutely no reason in the world. And it's not like I feel depressed in those moments spent bathing in my tears, it's not that at all. I just feel overwhelmed by the air, and I feel overwhelmed by the universe and I feel completely overwhelmed and powerless in my place in the world, and I remember feeling this way other times in my life, when I just feel so freaking small and I don't know why I feel that way.
And I just feel like I want to scream out for SOMEONE to see me and feel what I feel and not ask me any questions about it but just know it and understand it and allow and try not to fix it but just share it.
I used to do this with my best friend years ago, but she and I don't communicate anymore, it just happens to us sometimes. No fight, she just stopped knowing I was alive I guess. And everyone is busy with their lives as it should be.
I watched Monty Python's Meaning of Life, and at the end of the song you're listening to, the woman says, "Makes you feel rather...insignificant."
Yeah. What she said.
Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
and revolving at 900 miles an hour,
It's orbiting at 19 miles a second, so it's reckoned,
the sun that is the source of all our power.
The Sun and you and me, and all the stars that we can see,
are moving at a million miles a day,
In the outer spiral arm, at 40,000 miles an hour,
of the Galaxy we call the Milky Way.
Our Galaxy itself contains 100 billion stars,
it's 100,000 light-years side-to-side,
It bulges in the middle, 16,000 light-years thick,
but out by us it's just 3000 light-years wide.
We're 30,000 light-years from galactic central point,
we go round every 200 million years,
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
in this amazing and expanding universe.
The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding,
in all of the directions it can whiz,
As fast as it can go, at the speed of light you know,
twelve million miles a minute, and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
how amazingly unlikely is your birth,
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space,
because there's bugger all down here on Earth.
Thanks to Monty Python's Completely Useless Website which is NOT so completely useless!
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