It’s been awhile since I’ve written in this category, I’m not sure why that is. But since I’ve missed another Monday post, now’s as good a time as any to write one.
I missed this past Monday because I didn’t attend the meeting; I asked a regular attendee to cover for me. I didn’t attend the meeting because I have been feeling under the weather for past 10 or so days, whatever’s got me has really grabbed hold! I have been through all the regular permutations of an infection… sore throat, cough, aches, chills, and I’d say for the most part they’ve come and gone. What’s lingering now, and has been for at least 5 days, is this unrelenting lethargy… it feels like I’m moving through water, and I could sleep at any moment.
It’s bad enough that I actually went to the doctor, which may not mean a lot if you don’t know me, but says something significant if you do. I intensely dislike going to the doctor’s. He gave me an antibiotic, and paperwork to get my blood tested, and told me the exhaustion is normal; since my body is fighting an infection, it is working overtime, so it’s tired!
Problem solved, case closed. For what possible reason would I be writing about such an inane subject?
Answer: I have uncovered an interesting mental side effect of this physical illness, and that is guilt. I feel guilty for feeling sick.
Illogical, irrational, and most likely makes me sound unbalanced, but it’s the truth. I have no energy, and I berate myself for getting nothing done. The monkey mind creates a laundry list of things I should be doing to get well: exercise more, fight through the exhaustion! Drink more water, eat healthier, meditate harder, snap out of it.
“You’re not that sick,” says the monkey mind.
I do try to talk back to criticism, but suffice it to say the circular argument is exhausting to think about, let alone write it out, let alone have it in the first place.
And even when I’ve completed the laundry list, there is always, always another item added for which to feel guilty because it has gone uncompleted.
Three days ago, I awoke from a disturbing dream. All I can remember from it is that I was diagnosed with cancer. The disturbing part was the emotion I experienced, which was guilt, because I was convinced that the cancer was my fault for something I had done, or something I had failed to do.
When I realized that was my take-away from the dream, I knew I was troubled. And I examined where guilt was infecting my life, and was startled to discover how pervasive it was. Truly, it is egotistical how much responsibility I give myself.
So my inflated ego… something else about which to feel guilty.
While the illness is the catalyst for this self-examination, I believe I will find that, even as I heal, even as I become more active, take on more responsibility, and so on, guilt will still be playing a role. My best guess is that it’s always been there, I’m just painfully aware of it now that I’m sober. I’m still not sure what that is, if it is:
A. connected with addiction
B. residue from being raised in an Irish Catholic household
Or maybe it’s
C. all of the above
And more important, here’s the essay question that needs to be answered:
How the heck do you overcome an addiction to feeling guilty?
Feel free to respond, especially if you’re in recovery… from guilt!
Taking the time to write this post, because I know I am going to get great responses to help me tackle this issue!
I have been hanging on to this blog by my fingernails of late.
It started out as a rationale: I re-started a new fitness/weight loss/get healthy challenge a few weeks back, and I swore I would not bother the blogosphere with this nonsense again. I barely want to hear it myself, how could anyone else?
On the other hand, I have come to a point in my blogging where I write twice a week: one that wraps up the wisdom I glean from the weekly meeting I run, and the other where I release whatever is running around inside of my brain. If I am involved in a diet and exercise challenge, then guess what is the only thing running around my brain?
And then another thought occurred to me: many of the recovery bloggers I read credit their sobriety to immersing themselves in the recovery blogging world. It was not my path, but it has always intrigued me. Perhaps I can employ that same mindset and immerse myself in the diet and fitness blogs of the world.
So that’s where I’ve been. Instead staying on top of my WordPress reader, I have been branching out to MyFitnessPal forums, and the top rated diet and fitness blogs of recent years. It has been an interesting experience, but I’ve got to say it: not the same, not the same at all. There is something very unique, and very special, about our community. I certainly did not find it in the diet and fitness world, that’s for sure!
So that’s where I’ve been. And here’s why I’m back, and it has to do with a valuable lesson I learned from all the mini-challenges I did this year: consistency.
I have been working on improving my fitness for about 14 months, working on losing weight for about 7 months, and working on my overall health for 6 months. For a large majority of that time, I was looking at the glass half empty. No matter what I did, my focus was one what I hadn’t done, or what I still needed to do, or how much better I could have done it. It all came to a head for me a few weeks ago. I had started this challenge on September 12 (2 months before my birthday), and I had just had my first very successful weigh-in. My husband was congratulating me, and I could not see it. You see, that weight I lost that week I have been losing and gaining all year, give or take a few pounds. So while the number sounded good (I honestly can’t remember what it was, something close to 10 pounds I think), all I could see was the number I should be at, since I had already lost those 10 pounds 2 or 3 other times this year. And the more I tried to explain my thought process to my husband, the more he looked at me like I was speaking another language. I wound up in hysterical tears by the end of it; not because he wasn’t understanding my point, but that I was not understanding his.
This is a nod to my recovery tools: I can see now when I’m thinking like “Old School Josie” by watching the reactions of others. I may not be able to stop Old School Josie Thinking entirely, but I can at least recognize it and correct it.
So my mini-meltdown was the start of a slow new understanding: this is a process, not an event with a start and end point. Sounds obvious, doesn’t it? But when you’re in the thick of it, it’s anything but.
Next lightning bolt: each failed attempt, and that is probably not even an apt description, but let’s roll with it… each failed attempt was some kind of lesson learned that helped me the next go-around. Every subsequent challenge I have undertaken (I would say there have been four in all) has shown me greater and greater results. The most concrete example I can give: this most recent one had me going strong for three weeks, and I got to the lowest number on the scale that I have seen in my adult life, when I hit the all too familiar roadblock: a celebration of some sort. This time, it was my wedding anniversary, which turned into a 4 day free-for-all in terms of eating. It has been slow going this week, but I am slowly getting myself back on track. So here’s the progress:
1. I am back on track, normally a celebration derails me for weeks
2. My high number on the scale since resuming is the previous challenge’s low number
Even Old School Josie Thinking can’t argue that this is progress!
Last valuable lesson learned, and now I will finally tie this all back to blogging: Consistency is key. It is true in my sobriety, it is true for my diet and fitness, and it is true for blogging. If I don’t keep myself to a schedule, then I will fade away into the blogging sunset. I know it. Just in the few weeks I took off, the monkey mind was getting louder and louder: enough is enough, you are getting too repetitive, who gives a crap about what’s going on in your life? On and on.
Here’s my response back: nothing but great things have happened with respect to the blog. So I guess I’ll keep writing!
Through the orthodontic process, we discovered an abnormality in my son’s mouth, and we have been anxiously awaiting results of the oral surgery he had as a result of that discovery. Results are in, and it was the best possible news. So the miracle is: the good health of my children is now something for which I am consciously grateful each and every day!
Second miracle: surgeons who take their job seriously, and go the extra mile to ensure the best possible results. I’m telling you, there’s no feeling like knowing you can trust your child’s medical professional!