Barely recognizable

A couple of people I know have recently lost a LOT of weight. 

Of course it happened gradually, but after a while folks started to notice. "Wow, you really look great!" people said to them, especially those who hadn't seen them for a while. They flushed with pleasure and showed off the new clothes they'd been able to buy. Or they just said, "Thank you," and grinned to themselves. 

Photo Weight Loss courtesy of luigi diamanti at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Occasionally, someone who hadn't seen them since their "before" picture would say to them, "I almost didn't recognize you!" More smiles. 

Few people would argue that when someone who's overweight loses weight, there are so many health benefits that it would be ludicrous to criticize someone for not being overweight anymore. Or to try to twist that person's arm into overeating again. 

Weight loss is an easily visible transformation. The results are measurable, and those who care about the person who has succeeded in taking off weight would no more do or say anything to jeopardize their success than they would try to drive full speed into a concrete wall! 

Yet when the change is internal, that's often the first thing that happens. People are used to relating to someone in a certain way - and when that person changes, it can be hard for them to adjust. They may react in any number of ways: anger, sadness, fear, or a combination of those ... and more. What is excellent news for the person who's changed on the inside to mature or grow, become more free of fear, of resentment, of anger ... is often NOT good news for those who still see the changed individual as the same old person they used to know. Not that he or she hasn't changed. It's that the people around him or her are actually living in denial, not wanting to admit there's been a change. Or, they see the change but they really don't like it. Like the old drinking buddies of the alcoholic who's in recovery, they just want to go back to the "way things used to be." 

First, the person usually looks the same. The automatic assumption is that the person therefore IS the same ... and that the "change" he or she claims to have experienced either won't last or is somehow suspect, perhaps a veiled personal attack against family and/or friends from that former lifestyle. This leads to some inevitable boundary issues, and may actually lead to the end of certain relationships.

Second, and maybe more importantly, admitting that there has been a change, or saying that it is a good thing, would be the same as admitting that their own lives might need to be changed. In a lot of cases, people just don't want to examine their core beliefs, their attitudes, or their behavior that closely. 

I didn't. Until I did.

That is, I had to get to the place where I was desperate enough to look for help. Anyone who needs help won't seek help unless he or she feels there is no other alternative. Everyone seems to want to do it on his or her own.

Adjusting to that kind of reaction from people from my "old life" was a stretch for me. I guess I naively thought that if I was happier with the new me, then everyone would be. I hadn't counted on folks feeling threatened by it. Or denying it even happened. Or being weirded out by my insistence on rigorous honesty.

Just like I needed to be my own motivational coach, I need to be my own cheerleading squad. To myself, I'm barely recognizable compared to my "before" profile when I look into my spiritual mirror. To the ones who know me well, they can see and rejoice in the difference too. However, very few appreciate the transformation, so most of the motivation to keep it up, and the recognition for milestones already reached, has to come from within. 

For now.

Such a long way

Sometimes I get discouraged when I think about how far I have yet to go to get to the place of being rid of my defects of character.  In many ways, it seems like three steps forward, two steps back.  Some days it's one step forward, three steps back.  I make mistakes along the way and I pay for those mistakes.  I also (hopefully the first time around) learn from them.  

Sometimes I don't.  Sometimes it takes several times down the same path for me to get the message.  Someone trips one of my triggers - and I'm back into my "don't back me (or anyone I love) into a corner" mode.  The claws and fangs come out just as sharp and dangerous as they were "back in the day."  

And that's when I get discouraged.  I look at the path ahead and it's daunting.  

It appears endless, the road ahead.  At such times, it helps me to stop, to pull over, so to speak, and to look back the way I came to see how far I've come.  How frequently I used to blow up.  How unhappy I was.  How afraid my husband and children were of my temper tantrums, melodramatics, and tear-fests.  How uptight and judgmental, how incredibly narrow-minded I was.  How many deeply held resentments I had.  How they held my life hostage in Victim-land.  How impossible it was (still is) to pull myself out of those obsessive, self-destructive behaviors.  

What helps me most is to concentrate on those behaviors that I keep repeating, lessons I need to learn, re-learn and learn all over gain.  I have stumbled upon a way to keep from getting quite so discouraged as I keep tumbling into the same things.  I look at three things:  duration, intensity, and frequency.

Duration:  My flights of obsession and angst used to take me on emotional rampages that would last weeks, sometimes months.  They don't last so long any more.  Some last minutes; others last hours.  Some last days.  Very few last weeks.  It's not perfect - but it's progress.  

Intensity:  The depths of my rampages used to be such that I would wallow in self-pity, immerse myself in anger, bathe in bitterness.  And in a weird way, I'd enjoy it.  Not so much anymore.  I can't say that I don't do it at all.  But I don't do it as thoroughly or as deeply as I once did - and I don't enjoy it nearly as much.

Frequency:  Not two weeks would go by (in my life before recovery) that I wouldn't have something to complain about, someone to judge (even if it was for judging me!)  It happens occasionally now - but only occasionally.  

Duration, Intensity, Frequency - that's the DIFference between then and now.  

Sure, there is such a long way to go.  But I've come such a long way.

Awareness is the Key

Appearances can be deceiving.  People are multi-faceted.  Often there are hidden treasures laying beneath the surface for those who are willing to invest the time it takes to get to know someone.  Even when you think you know someone, and have known them for several years, they can still surprise you with yet another facet.  

But there are times when I assume that I know something about someone and that is set in stone, and I can miss something important, something wonderful, about that person.  And I suspect that it happens to other people when they look at me.  A few times in my life, I have demonstrated a latent ability that others didn't expect from me, and I have seen eyebrows raise in shock.  

Taking a very simple example from the physical world, ... okay - I'm obese.  I know I'm obese.  Yet there are times when I see a passageway toward which I and another person are approaching ... and I honestly think both of us can fit through at the same time.  That's because I still think of myself as this tiny slip of a thing I used to be when I was eight.  I didn't start gaining weight until I was in my 20's and so my natural 'default' body image is one of someone who takes up almost no space.  So when I head into the passageway and the other person waits for me - it's a reminder.  (Oh yeah, crap.  I don't look like that anymore; I can't do those things anymore.) 

The same with my default personality-image.  My self-esteem, my way of thinking about the kind of person I am defaults to that scared, needy, clingy, manipulative complainer all too quickly.  When I act out of that head-space, I feel myself sliding inside, feeling two-dimensional: something just cringes and feels all oily and soiled.  When I become aware, and do a quick inventory of my attitudes, I realize it's because I've gone back into that muck and mire of the old life.  The answer for me is to realize that's what has happened, admit it to myself and to God, ask for His help, and then in faith to stop the mindset and begin to really live life intentionally instead of coasting. 

Sometimes I have no clue where I'm going or what I'm doing.  Okay, most times I don't.  That's when I go back to my newly-discovered (yet ages-old) maxim of "One Day at a Time" and trust that God is doing for me what I can't do for myself.  He sees all the fragmented pieces as a complete whole and someday, He'll let me see it as well.

It's awareness that is the key to living an "intentional" life - a choice-based life, rather than one just run on "auto-pilot."  But it's  trust in something - a Power - greater than ourselves that allows us to turn that key and unlock from a lifetime of coasting in sheer "me-ness." 

Identifying those old self-destructive patterns and their sources is extremely hard; I am not going to sugar-coat it.  The process is far from easy and it takes a lot longer than desired.  Often someone on this road of healing doesn't know the next step, much less what lies around the next bend in the road (if there even is one).  But with perseverance, commitment to being aware of those things and rooting them out ... the way does clear, the thicket thins out, and there is a growing light along the way - plus a surprise that I for one never expected.

Happiness.

Boy it's HOT!!

Don't get me wrong - I love the heat. One of my favorite places is curled up next to a fireplace on a cold winter's night. But summer - I hate to complain because it happens for such a short time in our part of the country.

I love the warm temperatures. It's the humidity and the bugs that annoy me.

I could spend a lot of time complaining about the weather, the climate, the economy, the construction that never happens except when the population triples during tourist season and people are already stressed to the max because crazy Uncle Max has decided to descend on the family (no I don't have an uncle called Max and I don't know anyone who does...) and the kids are more and more bored: "There's nothing to do!!" - so their idea of fun is going to a mall and spending our hard-earned money.

I could even spend a lot of time complaining any other time of year. In the winter it's the cold and wind. In the spring it's the wet and the muck. In the fall it's - well, it's that winter is right around the corner and autumn lasts an even shorter time than summer does.

But I can turn this whole thought process on its ear and look for the praiseworthy things. It's something I'm training myself to do.

In the summertime, the sun is nice and hot, the vitamin D is plenteous, I get to go on vacation, and I'm not encumbered with heavy coats, caps, scarves and gloves when I have to buckle myself in the car.

In the fall, - well - what's not to like about the fall? Beautiful colors, not as much lawn-mowing, the extra expenses of the summer (air conditioner, electricity, eating out because it's too hot to cook) are gone, and the neighborhood kids are back in school and not setting firecrackers off in the middle of the night.

In the winter - hallelujah, NO BUGS! The driving isn't all that bad - even the potholes are filled in with the snow and ice. And since winter lasts such a long time here, the crime rate is lower than in most places - criminals don't like the cold either.

In the spring, there is hope for warmer temperatures. The trees and crocus are the bravest souls - they bud long before I would venture out. The days are getting longer - spirits are up. The birds are coming back - one of my favorite sounds is the cooing of mourning doves early in the morning... that or the twittering of the sparrows in the hedge.

It's been said that attitude determines altitude.
I like that.