Month: August 2017

August: Exercise Everyday

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As my sweet summer begins to wind down, and the scale is a few pounds heavier than it was in May, August’s theme is to exercise everyday.

While I believe the sheer amount of stress I was under this spring helped keep my waistline trim, I want to maintain the weight in a much healthier manner. I used to walk 2 miles on my lunch break, but the hot summer air has kept me from that. I sacrificed running, rock climbing, and yoga to paint the house so I would have some semblance of order in my life. With the bulk of the house preparation complete, it is time to focus on my health and keep moving forward with life.

I am still carrying the stress from earlier this year. I tend to keep all my stress in my hips, and my hip flexors are so locked now I don’t remember what unlocked felt like. The only way I know how to unlock them, outside of a chiropractic visit, is Bikram yoga. I need to get back on the mat.

There is a 20 pound kettlebell weight in my office; I don’t use it as much as I should. My arms and back are proof of this. Everyday, with the exception of something on fire, I am going to pick up the weight and do a few reps.

I’m hitting the jogging trail more often, but I walk a lot when I run, probably due to all the muscle tension. Rock climbing needs to be a priority as well.

My husband and I have 2 big hikes planned for the fall: one in the mountains and one on an island, so there is preparation involved to keep this exercise ball rolling after August fades.

I am ready to be physically healthy again.

July in Review

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July highlighted my brown thumb tendencies, as well as the noxious weeds that seemed to pop up in my marriage.

Plant wise, I did well. I kept my ajuga transplants watered and so far they’re still green. I transplanted an upset, poorly placed gardinia, but it hasn’t quite decided to live or die yet. Nonetheless it has been given ample amounts of water and soil.

Having a smaller house with less to manage has improved life in other areas, namely the garden. I’m more inclined to walk outside to check on things than my old house. There was so much surface area to clean, walk through, and maintain. My next feat is to get the yard landscaped. But first, gutters!

As for the marriage bit, things got better as the month progressed. At first, even after a good day, we were arguing. Sometimes I think he just likes to pick fights. His love language is words of affirmation, perhaps more acutely so, which probably exacerbated an already flammable situation. Every time I think the worst is over, we hit another rough patch. It’s almost like clockwork. I really hope we have turned a corner; I think the vacation helped. We never used to be so ugly to each other. I must learn to respond by standing up for myself and not defaulting to complacency when he’s in my face telling me to go….well….you can fill in the blank.

As with growing plants and marriage, time tells all.

And fertilize/mulch as required.

Sobering

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“Sober means I’m not getting drunk. I have a glass of wine or a beer now and again. So what? It was never my intention to stop drinking forever.”

These words were hurled to me as I confronted my favorite addict after I found a poorly hidden empty bottle of wine. They claimed they were 75 days “sober.” And by their definition, perhaps. But for a known binge drinker, I doubt that’s the case. I’d also like to mention all this drinking was done in secret – as was their addiction; their family was oblivious, because they would have gotten upset. And rightly so.

The addict then proceeded to make me sound like I was the crazy one. A master manipulator, there was no confession of wrongdoing or relapse. It was in-your-face defiance with their version of sober. The bait and switch made me feel cheated, hoodwinked, and the structure of trust came crashing down; that will have to be rebuilt. Again.

I liken it to having an affair on my husband with a guy named John (this is for comparison only, I’ve never cheated on my husband). An event caused me to confess, with tears, that I was ending the affair, profoundly sorry for the pain I caused, and I was again faithful to my husband. And so the marriage rebuilds. Then, my husband comes home after work several months later to find another man’s coat had fallen between the couch and the end table. His heart races as he asks me who’s it is.

“Oh, it’s John’s,” I’d say. “He came over today to watch a movie with me. We’re not sleeping together anymore, we just hang out, go to lunch and stuff, and have been for awhile, I just didn’t tell you because you’d freak out about it. I said I would stop sleeping with him, which I have, not that I would never see him again. John and I have a friendship that goes way back and he’s so interesting and nice to have around! What’s so bad about me having a friend over? It’s not a big deal!”

My husband would not think this was okay. No reasonable spouse would think, hey she’s right, I’m totally overreacting! I’m sure something would happen down the road, regardless of my good intentions, and I’d wind up back in bed with John: past behavior is an indicator of future behavior, like credit scores. My husband’s anger would boil over and he would give me an ultimatum: John or him.

I would be angry back, saying it’s unfair just because I spent the past few years sleeping with John and now that I’ve mended my ways, everything is fine, and trust should be restored.

Yet this is the argument I’m having over 2 carbon atoms with a hydroxyl group hanging off of it – alcohol.

There will come a day in the not too distant future where a line will be drawn with that ultimatum: family or alcohol. Personally I’d choose alcohol: it has no accountability.
The entire premise for my addict’s continued use of alcohol all revolves around them and their wants and needs. The fact that their use is destroying their family does not register.

Perhaps that is the most heartbreaking part of this whole painful situation.

I covet your prayers at this time.