gone

She's gone now. Margie now knows what happens after you die. And I know that I can survive around 6 hours and 42 minutes without her on the planet.
Though I did eat Chinese food: deep fried flour with red dye sugar syrup and a fortune cookie or two. Guess what my fortune is: You will receive good news today.
OK.
A sugar binge is on the way, lurching through the darkness with a promise of oblivion followed by enough self loathing to effectively distract me from the hurt in my heart.
I am bewildered. I am angry. I am afraid of how powerful this feels. Last night I had dreams that huge crocodiles with red eyes were bursting through the floor boards of my house on the water. I had a pitch fork and was fighting them off one at a time.

changes

Here is the thing about not compulsively overeating: certain things have to change. My friend is dying more quickly than anyone had expected. She's at home now for hospice care and positioned facing the lake outside her living room window like she wanted. She's in and out of consciousness. I called her husband and asked him to tell her that she doesn't need to spend one moment worrying about me, that I'll be just fine, and that I love her. He said that he would whisper that in her ear as soon as he got off the phone. He said that he was so sorry I didn't get a chance to see her. I said it was OK. Then I got off the phone and cried on and off for the rest of the night.
Another thing that happened: I realized that I'm absolutely done with being spoken to angrily. Now I don't mean that people can occasionally take issue with me or that I won't tolerate any arguments or disagreements from anyone, but I'm finished with the irritated stream of crap from a certain family member. So I told him. I told him I was done. And I told him he could make up his mind and let me know if he needed to move out or if he was willing to stay with these new limits. I actually said that as far as I was concerned, our relationship was over, but I was open to starting again on a new footing and seeing if there was actually anything there. We both knew that I meant every word.

I am also done with a couple of my "friends". Because if I can lose Margie, then I can lose the crap that I've been accepting from certain people.

prayed

This afternoon I was trying to nap when I got a call from my sick friend's husband. He needed to cancel an appointment with my spouse because they were still in the hospital. As we said goodbye, he said, "Keep praying." And I think because my rational mind was still napping, I got this idea to pray for a miracle. So I prayed, "God, please heal M. If anyone deserves it, she does. Please heal her. Please." And I felt a twinge of faith. What if it could actually be? People heal. Spontaneous remission.
All I'm saying is, it's not over until it's over.

And at the same time, I have been stuffing my face with dairy and gluten free cupcakes which don't have wheat but have evaporated cane juice. Yes. It's pretty much sugar. Not quite the heroin that is white sugar, but close enough for government work.
So again, I begin. I need to be more careful about what I put in my mouth because it is a slippery slope. I find that I am right on the line between obsession and clarity.

death

The woman who showed me and taught me how to pretty much live a strong and good life is dying. Just before Thanksgiving, she had a cough and got it checked out. I remember so clearly that she told me, "Let's talk again in a couple of days. I am sure I'm going to feel better by tomorrow." It turned out to be lung cancer. So she changed her diet and was about to start chemo when the next scan revealed that the cancer had spread throughout her lungs. She had one or two chemo sessions and got pneumonia. That was last week. She's in the hospital now and tomorrow she'll go home. No more treatment. The cancer is too far gone. She has very little time left.
She did a massive amount of my laundry when I was overwhelmed with my first baby. We lived on the top floor of their home then. I was embarrassed by my inability to deal with laundry and taking out the garbage so I kept saying, "Oh, no. I'll get that. Don't worry about it." And she'd say, "I'm heading downstairs anyway. Why don't I just take it." And she'd take our garbage bag down the stairs to the bin. I wanted to be able to show her I'm OK now. For longer. Because of her, and her advice to listen to the doctors who told me I needed medication for my depression, I was able to start keeping up with chores. I have been at the point where I am about ready to actively pursue other interests, instead of just swatting at the balls hurtling in my direction.
When I had pneumonia, she came up to our place, told my spouse to get the pills I was supposed to take, gave them to me, and then dipped a corn chip in guacamole and fed it to me. She later said she was sorry but that she gets bossy when she's scared. I was so sick that I didn't know how sick I was. She told me that too.
What I'm going to tell her is that I love her and I am so grateful for everything she taught me. I am going to reassure her that I will be just fine, and I'll continue to put to use everything I've learned. I'll do everything I know how to do to let her know that I am OK and she doesn't have to spend one second worrying about me, my husband, or my kids.
Then I'll stand up and step forward. Because the world will have lost a brilliant soul, and there will be a lot of work to do.

The hardest part of this thing is that the pay off is so far away. And the relief offered by slamming junk down my gullet is immediate. So I sit as darkness looms and wait for the next day when I can eat again (because I don't want to eat at night after dinner) and I can't wait because I feel shaky and alone. Like I'm hanging on a rope ladder from a helicopter.

Time to set a goal.
Setting goals and working toward them is supposed to be good for self esteem.
Here's a goal:
Walk for 20 minutes tomorrow.
Keep going with the wheat free, sugar free food plan. And let go of dairy again.
Yeah! You go girl!!!

I have been wanting someone to intercede on my behalf for my whole life. Against those who I knew weren't treating me right. I couldn't stand up for myself, I realized after years of trying and failing to make a difference in my situation. The power must lie outside of myself, I concluded. And I set about trying to find the one who would protect me. One situation after another came and went, and still no savior. Like a greased pig, the idea kept eluding the grasp of logic as it transitioned from person to person as they morphed from protector to jerk. "Someone protect me from my erstwhile protector!" I wailed as I set about finding another one.

OK.
I get it.
No one is going to intercede. No one is going to make anyone see things the way I do. There is no outside force. There is only me.
To keep speaking up and see what happens. And if nothing changes...

long haul

Baby has pneumonia and an ear infection. Daughter is on the mend. Spouse is slowly recovering. Baby was diagnosed yesterday and has another appointment this Friday. We were sent home with the inhaler and antibiotics. I made a chart to keep track. I am amazed at my ability to keep on my feet through all of this, while sick. I chalk it up to the super-human qualities bestowed on those who become mothers. I can also tell if someone has a fever by feeling their forehead -- which is new. Now I'm just sad and resentful. I don't know if another partner would be more helpful or if this is a universal phenomenon in couples with kids. But it feels like it's been almost all me all week all day and all night because he couldn't move. And he did do things like daughter's eye drops and ... watching the kids while I got some sleep the other morning.
I just don't want to clean the kitchen again and again and again while I'm feeling so lousy. The amazing thing is that I haven't had wheat or sugar since day one of this blog. I have had a little dairy since my dairy back slide on Friday but will let that go again.
OK Here goes: I got weighed at the doctor on Friday and I'm 234 pounds. Here's where I got to by eating the things that hurt me to excess for years. I guess I'm lucky that I'm stopping now, because there's no limit to weight gain as we all know from watching TLC and spying on morbidly obese.
And now that I have this blog and I've made the commitment to report honestly as I go through this process, I am able to see the insanity of "Key Lime Pie! It's the perfect solution!"