Merry Christmas 2020!

I've been so busy this Christmas morning - that is how it is when you're the mom, usually. Or at least, in my extended family, it is. My grandmother, who raised me, put so much effort into making Christmas special for her 3 children and 12 grandchildren (and I've lost count of how great and great-great grandchildren). When I was young, I didn't realize how much she had to do to make our Christmases the amazing memory-filled days they turned out to be. So I have kind of big shoes to fill there! This morning, I finished wrapping presents, got started on some dinner things, cleaned up the kitchen. And I actually enjoyed it.

Yesterday both the boyfriend and I got off work at noon; I picked up lunch on the way home and we ate together. And afterward, he went to play games and watch videos while I set to chores - mopping and rearranging the kitchen, making some snacks and treats, and finishing wrapping gifts. At first I started feeling a little resentful that he got to play while I had to work, but then I realized how stupid that was. I LIKE the work. I like being busy and productive, and I am not happy spending hours on end just being entertained. And I don't think there's necessarily a moral superiority to either thing, though our society likes to think so.

It's not that I don't like being entertained, or relaxing. I like those things, in smallish doses. I like having fun. But I also like the feeling of having completed a task, made something others will enjoy, or just keeping active. As I hurdle into the second half of my life, I have learned to be more and more grateful that I can do those things. 

So yes, it's Christmas. My oldest son came over last night and actually spent the night here; the youngest still lives here of course and my middle will be coming over around noon. We will have a big dinner and open presents and maybe play a game or watch TV, and I will be so very grateful for these wonderful men I have in my life. It's been a strange, tough year, but we are all still here, still ok, and making our way through it all together. So yes, Merry Christmas indeed.

Heavy burden

I'm fat. 

No, really I'm fat. BMI-wise, I'm considered obese. At 5'8", I am as of today 199.6 lbs. I've hovered around 200 for months. It seems to be my new normal, and I hate it. 

This time last year, I was doing pretty well on a keto diet. I actually got down below 180. And then Covid happened, I had to work from home for about 3 months, and I gained it all back (and then some). It is amazing how much work it is to lose 20 lbs, and how easy and fast it is to gain it back. 

Most of my life, even after kids, until my mid 30s I hovered around 140. I thought it was "fat" at first - I was about 125 before I had Joey. Not from trying; I was just tall and naturally thin. After I had kids, I liked those curves so I decided I was comfortable with 140. But over the years the weight has crept up month after month, year after year. And here I am with 60 lbs that I hate - and I don't just hate the pounds, I hate myself for them. 

I used to feel bad for people who hated themselves over their looks. Aren't we more than that? But here I am doing it - and some personal problems aren't making that any easier. I read an entry on a forum the other day that was something along the lines of: feeling as if being fat is a moral failure can seem worse because it's so damn visible. Lots of of bad things people do - abuse, theft, just being an asshole in general - you can't see that on a person. For all you know, anyone you meet is pretty good or pretty bad. But a fat person - well, for most of us it's because we eat too much. And it's never something we can hide - it's always there. We feel guilty for taking up space in a world where if we'd just do better, we wouldn't look like this.

And yes, I know there are all kinds of reasons for being overweight but I think the vast majority of us is: it's because we eat too much (and I'm not getting into the reasons for that). And it's so hard to change it because it is a thing that brings me comfort and joy and it's so EASY. 

But man, I hate being fat and I sure hope the things I'm doing help me stop being fat.

The Socials

A friend who I met through Facebook recently posted that she was tired social media, because it was missing real connection/communication and was nothing but navel gazing for those us participating. Interesting that she rarely interacts on my posts (or lately, in my comments on hers), so I wondered if I was one of those she thinks that about. It doesn't hurt my feelings or bother me; I just thought it was curious.

I do disagree with the evaluation, at least in part. There IS plenty of self-promotion and even bragging, to be sure. I post pictures of my dogs - yeah, it feels good to get comments and likes. But I also hope that it makes someone smile. I'm a weirdo who does random google image searches of dogs and babies when I'm feeling bad for the sole purpose of making me feel better. 

Especially during the isolation of Covid, Facebook has been a life saver. To be fair, the folks I keep in touch with on social media are mostly people who live far away from me, and Facebook helps keep them close even when I'm allowed to be social locally. I used to engage in the drama of politics and sensational stories until I read some Jonathan Haidt, and watched a video where he cautioned his listeners to, whenever we hear something that outrages us, think before posting it or forwarding it. It stuck with me, and now I tend to do it very seldom. Most of my Facebook stuff is about my kids and my pets and my life...with the occasional funny meme. It's a place for my friends and I to be goofy with each other. One of my private groups is a replacement for our closed blog site that no longer exists. It's Cheers, but online. 

There is no doubt there is a sinister side to social media, and I think the hard part is it does take a lot of mental acuity and strength to rein it in to be our tool, rather than the other way around. I'm not so naive to think I'm not the product (I know I am) but I also know I can use it as a product, too. 

So I'm not letting it go anytime soon, and I do sometimes wonder what it would take for me to abandon it altogether. Because it feels like I'd be abandoning my friends & family there who I like to stay close with, and I don't want that at all.

Up and down

I think blogger dates these things...but I don't know if it updates that if I ever go back and edit (which I am prone to do). So it's a Wednesday, December 2, 2020 at about 5:20 a.m.

I've been awake since about 3 am. I was exhausted last night, went to bed at 8, so that might have something to do with it. I was feeling off and cranky when I got home from work. 

Anyway since I couldn't sleep, I put the ear buds in and fired up a Marc Maron podcast, where he interviewed Michael J. Fox. Before the interview, Maron lamented that people thought he was exploiting his grief over his partner who died. And at the end, he performed a song he'd written about his grief for her. The entire experience - the interview with a fixture from my childhood, and the bookends of grief-talk - left me contemplative and not a little sad. The song was so beautiful I began crying. And I was angry that anyone thought he was "exploiting" his grief. We're damn lucky he shares it.

I've been down a lot lately. But not all the time. I'm cycling more often than I want to, and it worries me. I fear I'm difficult for loved ones to be around. And yet I do take care of them, and often feel my efforts aren't noticed. So I feel bad but I feel justified, if that makes sense.

Michael J. Fox said that gratitude makes optimism sustainable. And I believe that with all my heart - it's just really hard to do sometimes. I don't have much to truly complain about - my life is not currently very difficult. At least, no more difficult than anyone else's during this time of Covid and a weird life we never anticipated becoming normal. And yet I find reasons to complain, and as I mentioned to friends, I don't know if it's chemical or real or what. I worry I'm pushing away the man that I love, because I fear he will leave eventually. That he's not "in this" enough. Even though he's given no real indication of that. Just my fear of me compromising so much that I won't just meet in the middle, I'll go so far to his side that I won't even be able to see home anymore. 

I had a dream last night about a man I used to date. In my 4 single years, I dated a lot, and not many made an impression and hurt when they left. This one did, and I still see him from time to time, driving his FedEx truck in my part of town. Consequently, I do think about him often. I no longer feel what I did, but I still feel something; there is still a residual, niggling hurt that lack of resolution will probably never allow to die. So he showed up in a dream, in a social situation I'd have thought I'd be friendly to him in. But our eyes met, and I promptly ignored him. And he looked sad...and it was satisfying. 

I just want to get through today...I say that a lot lately. And I do get through them, more or less intact. I wonder how long I can.