I'm doing okay with this next-to-no-sugar thing. When the cravings come, I want to grab a bag of the white stuff and dry hump it, but otherwise I'm fine. I've been (barely) swallowing tablespoonfuls of unsweetened yogurt throughout the day to destroy the candida metropolis undoubtedly thriving in my body. The sugar mine is closed, little yeasties. Pack up your belongings and move on out.
Spawnling's withdrawls have been more... pronounced. While his mood swings are less intense than they were, the unpredictability of when and what he'll destroy next has been the theme of the day. The sac of cane sugar that broke the mule's back was when he scribbled on my antique chair - correction: my late grandmother's antique chair. We are not amused. Part of this evening will be spent learning how to delicately remove pen from fabric.
My mind is clearer, my mood is more stable and I have more energy. Now as long as I can continue to resist the siren songs of Lady Chocolate, I should be alright. It's a good thing I'm familiar with the philosophy of 12 step programs, because oneday hour at a time is about all I can do right now.
As I was filling my cart with wholesome foods at the grocery store tonight, a chatty and adorable Spawnling in tow, I realized something.
No, not how awesome I am. That was established a good while ago. Keep up with the news, already!
I realized that, while Spawnling's health scare in August was traumatic enough that I still get teary when I think about it, what it has done to me on a personal level isn't all bad. In fact, I would say that the woman who walked her son through Kawasaki Disease and all the scary potential diagnoses leading up to it, is a better person than she used to be. Someone who sees how beautiful, how precious, and how short life is.
I was given a second chance at living when I got clean and sober at fourteen. I walked into rehab a shell and walked out a new person who wanted more for herself. I was given new breath yet again when I became a mother, and I learned there is a kind of love deeper than any other. It was transformational. And exhausting.
And then, when it looked like I might lose my littlest boy in those dark days of August, something snapped inside me. I remember the exact moment it snapped - you can't forget that feeling.
At first I thought it was a bad something and would require a phone call to my therapist. And maybe some drugs. And Oreos. But as shock and sadness lifted, as he gained his strength back and, finally, as his heart was given the all clear - for the next year, at least - everything looked different, felt different.
It wasn't intentional, but it seems I've given myself a makeover from the inside out. I've re-prioritized what's important to me, who's important to me, and what I'm willing to put time and effort into. I've had no problems cutting ties with people who are unhealthy - passive-aggressive, immature, continuously self-destructive. In fact, there are a few people I spoke to regularly in August that I don't speak to at all anymore. The funny thing is that it's not done out of anger or spite or a sense of superiority; I'm just not willing to put in the effort to keep a one-sided or very unhealthy friendship afloat. If I get sucked into someone else's negativity, then I'm wasting my energy on those things and not putting it into the important stuff.
Then, exhausted, I binge on chocolate. This is a lose/lose situation, obviously.
At the same time. I think I've been more real, more assertive, more kind, more honest. I cherish the people in my life, I love them deeply, I let them know. Spawnling has taught me to embrace every day - except during PMS time, when I get a couple of days to hate everyone's face.
So, this sugar thing? This didn't just randomly come about like I thought it had. It was a natural progression. I've been weeding out the negative in my life, and eventually I dug deep enough to hit my diet, that's all. It's very simple. It feels right because it is. I've arrived at a place and time when taking care of myself and my loved ones is the only thing that makes sense. I'm transformed. I don't think I can go back to who I used to be. But then again, I don't think I want to.
And there you have it. My deep thoughts for the day, brought to you by a three-year-old, a grocery store trip, and an experience that maybe I don't want to forget as much as I want to look at in a different light.
Holy crap, I'm awesome.
Spawnling's withdrawls have been more... pronounced. While his mood swings are less intense than they were, the unpredictability of when and what he'll destroy next has been the theme of the day. The sac of cane sugar that broke the mule's back was when he scribbled on my antique chair - correction: my late grandmother's antique chair. We are not amused. Part of this evening will be spent learning how to delicately remove pen from fabric.
My mind is clearer, my mood is more stable and I have more energy. Now as long as I can continue to resist the siren songs of Lady Chocolate, I should be alright. It's a good thing I'm familiar with the philosophy of 12 step programs, because one
***
As I was filling my cart with wholesome foods at the grocery store tonight, a chatty and adorable Spawnling in tow, I realized something.
No, not how awesome I am. That was established a good while ago. Keep up with the news, already!
I realized that, while Spawnling's health scare in August was traumatic enough that I still get teary when I think about it, what it has done to me on a personal level isn't all bad. In fact, I would say that the woman who walked her son through Kawasaki Disease and all the scary potential diagnoses leading up to it, is a better person than she used to be. Someone who sees how beautiful, how precious, and how short life is.
I was given a second chance at living when I got clean and sober at fourteen. I walked into rehab a shell and walked out a new person who wanted more for herself. I was given new breath yet again when I became a mother, and I learned there is a kind of love deeper than any other. It was transformational. And exhausting.
And then, when it looked like I might lose my littlest boy in those dark days of August, something snapped inside me. I remember the exact moment it snapped - you can't forget that feeling.
At first I thought it was a bad something and would require a phone call to my therapist. And maybe some drugs. And Oreos. But as shock and sadness lifted, as he gained his strength back and, finally, as his heart was given the all clear - for the next year, at least - everything looked different, felt different.
It wasn't intentional, but it seems I've given myself a makeover from the inside out. I've re-prioritized what's important to me, who's important to me, and what I'm willing to put time and effort into. I've had no problems cutting ties with people who are unhealthy - passive-aggressive, immature, continuously self-destructive. In fact, there are a few people I spoke to regularly in August that I don't speak to at all anymore. The funny thing is that it's not done out of anger or spite or a sense of superiority; I'm just not willing to put in the effort to keep a one-sided or very unhealthy friendship afloat. If I get sucked into someone else's negativity, then I'm wasting my energy on those things and not putting it into the important stuff.
Then, exhausted, I binge on chocolate. This is a lose/lose situation, obviously.
At the same time. I think I've been more real, more assertive, more kind, more honest. I cherish the people in my life, I love them deeply, I let them know. Spawnling has taught me to embrace every day - except during PMS time, when I get a couple of days to hate everyone's face.
***
So, this sugar thing? This didn't just randomly come about like I thought it had. It was a natural progression. I've been weeding out the negative in my life, and eventually I dug deep enough to hit my diet, that's all. It's very simple. It feels right because it is. I've arrived at a place and time when taking care of myself and my loved ones is the only thing that makes sense. I'm transformed. I don't think I can go back to who I used to be. But then again, I don't think I want to.
And there you have it. My deep thoughts for the day, brought to you by a three-year-old, a grocery store trip, and an experience that maybe I don't want to forget as much as I want to look at in a different light.
Holy crap, I'm awesome.