Seasonal Slump

It's been a chaotic few months, and something about the waning of winter is encouraging me to pull myself together and get things in order a bit.

I don't feel like I suffer from seasonal affective disorder, exactly, but I do feel like there's a part of me that just doesn't cope well with the dark and cold of winter. All I want to do is eat and sleep, and I find that I'm draggy and tired all the time. This is probably pretty par for the course around here, as our winters (and this one in particular) take a lot of fortitude to endure. But I don't make it easier on myself; when I'm low in energy and/or mood I tend to indulge myself with lots of tasty carbohydrates, which just make me more draggy and tired.

Last weekend I decided to cook. I made a pork loin marinated in citrus juice, garlic, cumin and oregano, and it was really nice. I also made an egg casserole kind of a thing that was good but very, very rich. I've been taking these things for lunch all week, and lo and behold...I'm feeling a little better. A little more in control. And thank goodness.

I was sitting with a cup of tea this morning and thinking about what I really want for myself. I realized that it's more complicated than just lookin' hot and feelin' groovy. That's a part of it, sure, but it's also about feeling calm and in control, and about respecting myself. And about having a body that's functional, so I don't have to worry about being able to go on a hike or climb several flights of stairs, or...well, you get the idea.

So often I just feel like a cork bobbing on the open sea, with very little to say about what happens to me, food-wise. I totally lose sight of the fact that I have a choice about what I eat, and not to choose is still a choice. It all just feels so thoughtless and automatic. I go to the cafeteria at work, and I pick what to eat based on where the shortest line is. Oh, and I get something for dessert, because the Little Debbie rack is right by the cashier, and I like those, and why not? And I drift through the grocery store, just impulse shopping.

So I think the trick for me will be to live a little more intentionally. I'm headed over to the grocery in a bit, and I'll go with a list. Winter's over yet, but it feels good to be thinking these thoughts and planning for the sunshine and warmer weather.

Adventures in Feminine Hygiene: The Sequel

So, I'm finishing up my second cycle with the menstrual cup (aka the CooterCap), which I first wrote about here. I have to say, I LOVE this thing. For me it is absolutely leak-proof, and surprisingly it's less messy than tampons as well. I also love the idea that I'm not putting bleached and otherwise chemically-processed fibers into or in close proximity to my body, and then I'm not throwing them out where they can sit in a landfill or the bottom of a lake forever. Oh, and the one-time investment? That too. It's all good.

The accounts I read prior to trying it out all talked about a learning curve, and there's definitely been one. I'm just now getting comfortable enough with insertion and removal that it's not a bit of a production, as it was when I first used it. And I can imagine that for anyone not used to having fairly...uh, intimate contact with her body, it might take a bit longer to get really in the swing of the whole thing. But for me, keeping at it has paid off. It's become easy, convenient and comfortable. I wish I'd gotten one 20 years ago.

So. I highly recommend the cup--it's a nice thing to do for your body, your wallet and the environment.

Visit with Dad

I went out to visit my father this weekend. He's been having cardiac issues and isn't taking very good care of himself, which landed him in the hospital last week. It was scary. My relationship with my father has always been complicated, and it's no less so now. It was so difficult to see him looking frail and scared; as someone who's never been seriously ill, I can only imagine how frightening that is. He is 81 and has never made healthy choices--he smoked until he was about 55, never exercised after about age 30 and is a perfect Type A personality. Oh, and eating habits? Red meat all the way, baby, with some pasta and bread now and again. But vegetables? Ha. If it grows in the dirt, it's not going in his mouth.

So years of hard livin' have caught up with him. He needs a valve replacement and is beginning to suffer from congestive heart failure, as well as arthritis that is beginning to create some mobility issues. My angry, temperamental, larger-that-life father has become a frail, vulnerable little old man who doesn't make great choices for himself, and I just don't know how to be with him.

What happened last week was that his kidneys temporarily quit working (the dye from a CAT scan he had was toxic enough to shut them down) and he ended up with fluid collecting in his lungs. He got more and more short of breath, to the point that he was having trouble walking from his bedroom to the kitchen. Finally a friend of his came by and saw the shape he was in, and he bundled my father up and took him to the hospital. A week of oxygen, balanced meals and diuretics in the hospital, and he was feeling much better by the time I got there this past Friday.

During my weekend there, my brother and I tried to get some more support for him around the house, which he's always been resistant to. He has finally agreed to have home health people come in three times a week to do a little cooking, help him run errands and make sure he's not sitting in front of the TV with his lungs filling up again. I repeatedly found myself lecturing him about needing to make better choices about his health, be proactive about some of these changes that need to get made, etc.

And that made me feel like a big hypocrite. I mean, how proactive am I? How healthy are my choices? The only difference between us is that I'm 41 instead of 81. Well, that and the smoking, and the personality variables, and...OK, so there are plenty of differences. But I see myself in him too--a person with a demanding life who just wants to come home from work and eat tasty, comforting food that she doesn't have to think about. Who doesn't want to have to motivate herself to go to the damned gym after working all day. Who is good at ignoring the signs that her body sends that it would like to be healthier and fitter.

All this has also been strangely motivating. In the last few weeks, whenever I've been dragging my feet about getting to the gym, I picture my father, with his bad joints and poor cardiac health, and it gets me there. I'd prefer not to be coping with these issues when I get older, obviously. I'd like to be one of those 80 year old ladies who's able to work in her garden, walk her dog, travel and generally feel energetic and engaged in the world. And that's not going to happen for me if I just sit here and ignore the fact that my knees hurt and I get short of breath easily even now, at 41.

What I did on my Winter Vacation

Well, I’m back. I made it through the holidays and through a surprisingly pleasant week-long visit with my father. Since I’ve been back in my own space and my own life I’ve been coping with the January blahs…it’s UNBELIEVABLY cold here, and gray, and I’ve struggled with the desire to eat nothing but carbs, drink like a fish and sleep too much. Actually, I’ve managed to keep the drinking and sleeping under control, but as usual, it’s the demon carbs that have proved irresistible.

Here’s a funny thing. I ate a lot around the holidays and gained about five pounds. I’m up to about where I was when I started this blog, which I’m not thrilled about. Interestingly, though, I’ve had several people in the last few weeks say “Hey, have you lost some weight?” I’m really not at all sure how to understand this…at first I was thinking it was due to Pilates, but I only went three times before my gym-buddy and I abandoned it for the holidays. So I don’t think it’s that. I don’t have an answer, but it makes me feel as if all is not lost.

I do, however, feel like most of the momentum I had throughout the fall is just gone. I’ve been completely unable to get myself to the gym, despite knowing full well that I’ll feel better, sleep better, have more energy, feel prouder of myself, etc. if I do. I’ve been playing games with myself, like telling myself that I can’t listen to any of the music on my iPod unless I do it at the gym. And like the stubborn child I am inside, I reply “Fine.” And the iPod sits on m desk, while I sit on the couch and watch TV.

Life is fairly stressful these days…my father continues to have health problems that appear to be getting worse, and I feel unsure of how to help. More to the point, I feel unsure of how to be close to him and how to be supportive while he’s feeling worried and scared. I know that I would feel more in control if I were to eat better and exercise. I also know that that control would be an illusion, but it’s one I’d welcome at this point.

Thank you to those of you who have sent me holiday greetings or otherwise left kind comments. Squilla, I was happy to hear that you’re alive and well in Australia, and your man is there with you now. *S*, thank you for your regular presence here—it’s always nice to hear from you. You too, Meegan, and Erin. I’ve been reading all of your blogs, even though I’ve been commenting only sporadically. Maybe what I need to do to to foster some re-engagement in the process of caring for my physical self is to blog more frequently and to get back in the habit of thinking about my physical self. That I can do.

Here’s wishing you all a wonderful 2008, with much happiness, good health and inner peace.

Happy Holidays

I leave tomorrow for a week--I'll be at my father's house in Denver. I'm hoping for a little more sun than we've had in the gloomy Midwest.

And for all of you, whether you celebrate Chanuka, Festivus, the Solstice, Christmas, Kwanzaa or a special day of your own devising...I hope your holidays are bright and happy. Thank you all for being a lovely part of my 2007. Here's wishing all of us a peaceful, joyful and healthy 2008.

Adventures in Feminine Hygiene

As I’ve gotten older, my periods have gotten lighter and lighter. I even have an IUD (the copper kind, not the progesterone kind), which is infamous for resulting in very heavy periods. Not for me. My periods are light enough now that my faithful friend the OB tampon just doesn’t work well for me any more, and as a result, I’ve started using ultrathin maxi pads. Ick. I’ve never used pads; from the very start of my menses, some 30 years ago now, I’ve used tampons. But now there just isn’t enough flow to warrant their use; they’re uncomfortable and leave me all dried out and…well, it’s just not working. And the pad thing? Not loving it.

So. What else? I’ve known about and been sort of interested in the idea of the menstrual cup for several years, but I had never tried one. I bought a box of Instead, the disposable ones once, and they just don’t work for me, though I know people who use and like them. Besides, part of what I’ve liked is the idea that I could use something repeatedly rather than discarding one or more of them daily. There are cups made of silicone or rubber that you insert, remove, wash and reinsert. It seemed like it might be time to try one, so I ordered one from this website and received it last week.

It’s a MoonCup, and it looks like a cute little silicone bell, or a little hat (a friend of mine, who disapproves of all the Goddessy names given by the manufacturers, dubbed mine the CooterCap. Fine with me.). I have read about how it takes some time to get used to using them, so I wasn’t expecting my CooterCap to become my BFF the moment I unwrapped it. But still. My first couple of interactions with it have been less friendly than I expected. Granted, I don’t have my period now, and many people have said that it’s hard to practice when you’re not menstruating, so I assume that’s part of my problem. The first time, I was able to insert the Cap OK, but then I couldn’t get it out. I’m not a person who has any problem interacting with her anatomy on a fairly intimate basis…so I wasn’t afraid to stick my fingers in there and get to tugging. But it had formed a fairly strong bond with the wall of my vagina, which I think is the point—that’s how you prevent leaks. It took a few tense minutes to figure out how to break the seal and extract the CooterCap, and then it kind of boinged out of my hand and across the bathroom.

Hm. Trial two, which was a couple of days ago, didn’t go that well either. Insertion went smoothly—you’re supposed to fold the Cap up in a particular way, slide it in and then let it open once it’s inside you. I folded and slid, and then felt it open up, as promised. And, OW. It felt like someone was poking me from the inside with their knuckles. Damn. Fortunately, removal was easier this time.

So, despite these difficulties, I’m looking forward to trying to use the CooterCap during an actual period. I’ve read repeatedly that it takes 2 or 3 cycles before you really get the hang of it, so I’m remaining optimistic. I really do like the idea of less waste, a one-time expenditure (though at this point, near the tail-end of my menstruating career, how much am I really saving, for either the environment or my wallet?) and the potential for a method without the drawbacks of either pads or tampons.

I’ll report back…And in the meantime, if you're interested in learning more, there's a nice little tutorial here.

Thin Dreams Die Hard

I’ve been consumed lately with the un-fun task of getting my grandmother’s estate underway and debating with my siblings the merits of keeping farmland vs. selling it off. Ugh. In the midst of all this, a friend sent me a link to a post over at Shapely Prose, and it really hit home. It’s all about the things we tell ourselves will be different when we’re thin. Have you done this? God knows I have. For years I’ve had this running list in my head:

Once I’m thin…

• I’ll find a fantastic man.
• I’ll be more outgoing.
• I’ll travel more, and to more exciting places.
• People will find me more interesting.
• I’ll smell better.
• I’ll be fitter.
• I’ll be outdoorsy and will learn to love kayaking, hiking, snowshoeing, etc.
• I’ll be happier.

Wow. WTF? I could go on and on with this list. It’s absurd. The post at Shapely Prose talks about self-acceptance, both of body size and of the strengths and limitations that make up a personality. It talks about understanding that the things we’re not good at, or are afraid to do, or don’t like to do, are not necessarily because of our weight. They’re because of who we are, for better and worse.

Me? I’m not especially outgoing, and that’s not going to change if I’m a size 10 instead of a size 20. People already seem to find me interesting. I have already traveled to some pretty cool and exciting places, thanks. I’m pretty sure that the outdoorsy thing just isn’t me—I’m darn fond of a comfy bed at the end of the day, and I don’t really like being hot, or cold, or not having access to indoor plumbing at will. Give me museums, cities and culture any day. Those things may be a little easier on the feet at a lower weight, but would it change what I like, what I choose to do and what I’m good at if I lost weight? Of course not.

And yet. It’s hard to give up the fantasy. It’s hard not to continue to believe in parts of it, like the one about the fantastic man. Do I know big women who have found wonderful men? Of course. And I also know that it’s my feelings about my fat, rather than my fat itself, that gets in my way. I know this. And yet.

What are some of your thin fantasies?