Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Dreamworld

What is it with me and dreams lately??? Last night I dreamed again of my late husband, and again, it was a bit disconcerting. What am I trying to work out in my mind? This dream involved flying to some Las Vegas-like destination, and the plane arriving at the airport before it was even open. The buildings were all dark, until we began to disembark. Then the lights started to come on, the escalators came to life, etc. It was a while before I realized I'd left my purse and my cell phone on the plane, and I told my late hubby I needed to go find it. Somehow, we got separated as I tried to find Lost and Found. From there, I don't remember exactly what happened, but I don't think I ever got my purse/phone back. In one part of the dream, someone in the Las Vegas-type place offered me 8 gold coins, which were actually quarters, as though I were a beggar or something similar. I didn't take it, because I told the guy when I found my purse and phone I wouldn't need it. Sheesh!

After my husband died, I couldn't dream at all. I wished I could; I wished I could conjure him up in my dreams, like many widow(er)s do. But any sleep I could was dreamless. I also couldn't pray, which was more disturbing. I'm not a 'religious' person, but I have always prayed and believed in the power and even necessity of prayer, for me, anyway. The only time I could talk to God was when I was driving, and usually then I'd be crying too, which probably wasn't the safest way to operate a motor vehicle. But it was the best I could do. I was so numb in those days (hubby died 3/27/99), and I felt so lost. I saw my therapist a few times, but the bottom line was that grief is not a treatable condition -- it's something that must be experienced fully, like it or not. I'm currently reading "On Grief and Grieving" by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, the matriarch of the field. She co-wrote this book as she herself was dying, which I find to be very touching. Even in her own time of need, she helped others. I hope I can be like that when I grow up.

I talked to my mother this morning, and she told me some funny stories about my nieces and nephew, the ones belonging to my estranged sister. My oldest niece, almost 8, had to get glasses recently, but unlike some kids, she's very happy about it. She has some other friends who wear glasses already, and my mom and other sister wear them, so I guess it's not a big deal to her. When I was a kid, I think I would have been embarrassed to wear them -- kids can be so cruel with the jokes -- but maybe things have changed for this generation. I hope so. I have another friend who grew up in Southern California, and she's had to wear glasses from a very early age. She said she always felt so different from the other kids -- many of them may have worn contacts, for all we know. Growing up in SoCal is a little different experience than in some other parts of the country, I'm thinking. There is more emphasis on perfect, beautiful bodies there, and certain clothes/adornments. The sad thing is, my California friend is a beautiful, beautiful woman, and an even more beautiful person. There was absolutely NOTHING wrong with her looks -- she was an absolutely adorable little girl -- I've seen pictures and videos. Her little eyes sparkled and her smile would melt your heart. It makes me sad to think of how bad she felt when it was so unnecessary. I hate people who make other people feel bad.

I think of myself, too, when I look back at old pictures. I have always believed myself to be fat, since I was a child, because my family told me I was. I was put on my first diet around the age of 8 or 9, and even my siblings say they remember that I had to eat different meals than everyone else. My youngest sister commented that she didn't know how I could ever eat chicken, tuna or green beans anymore, since that seems like all I ever got to eat. But I look back at pictures of myself as a teenager, and as a young woman, and I WAS NOT FAT! How could I have been so brainwashed? Now, of course, I truly am fat -- I am obese, considered morbidly so. People who spend much time with me generally comment on how little I eat, and that I don't seem to eat things that are 'bad' for me. I guess the bottom line is that my body knows how to conserve -- it's been yo-yoed more times than Duncan (let's see how many of you get that reference!). I know that increasing my physical activity will help me lose weight, in addition to the things I've been doing anyway. (I've lost about 25 lbs. since November, partially because of medication problems, but also because I try to eat a very healthy and balanced diet. My current weight is 270 lbs.) My hubby and I frequently share a meal at restaurants, instead of each order something. If we do order separate dishes, we eat half (usually) and bring the rest home for another time. We eat a big salad every night with dinner -- don't slather on the fatty dressings -- don't eat fried food for the most part, though occasionally, being a southern girl, I simply MUST have fried chicken. We bake our own breads, with whole grains and as much crunchy stuff as we can cram in there. We use a yogurt spread as a substitute for butter, etc. etc. etc. I've come to believe that we need to eat more non-artificially enhanced foods, and it seems to be paying off. My cholesterol is 188, and my hubby's is a little higher -- he has a family history of hypercholesterolemia, but not so that it would be life-threatening. He does Jazzercise, and has for 18 years now, so that helps keep him lean and gorgeous, not to mention energetic. When I exercise, I tend to get a little freaked out by my increased heart rate (I have Mitral Valve Prolapse and Left Ventricular Hypertrophy, along with panic disorder -- all of this can involve rapid heart beat), and I really really feel uncomfortable sweating. That may sound silly to some, but I'm hot-natured, so making myself feel hotter than normal anyway is very unappealing. Still, I'm hoping to be able to add some regular walking, and maybe bike riding into my routine soon. I'm recovering now from the 'pseudo flu' and sinusitis/bronchitis that I've had since early January, so my strength is coming back. Wish me luck on that.

Enough for now -- didn't mean to write this much to begin with! Gotta get the Valentine boxes ready for the nieces, nephews, and grandkids, so off with me!

Peace,
WIP

1 comment:

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