still breathing... and then some!
Hello folks!
I is not dead!
Oh, far from it.
So many things have changed since I last posted here. So many freaking things. In order of happening: moved out of Marg's (old boss). Fixed my body and my mind. Lost my job (Marg passed away). Started school.
Yeah. So, in June of 2011 I moved out of Marg's and into my "own" 3-bedroom unit, a mirror one of what I lived in ten years ago. So weird. Eldest daughter (20 years old) is no longer in my life as she's chosen her drugs over her family. When I moved out, she stayed with me for a few months, and then began stealing again, so I kicked her out. A few months later she came back, I thought things were fine, they weren't. I shut her out of my life in April 2012. Yes it's hard, but it's the best thing I could do for me, and for her. Son also found a new home, at my forceful behest. He is 19 years old and it's about time he found out what Life is all about. He's doing okay though, living with his girlfriend at her mother's. Quit school, but he has a part-time job now (Walmart, I know.)
How did I fix my body and mind? I changed how I eat. Drastically. I weighed over 200lbs. I was depressed, sad, angry, and hopeless. Eating whatever I wanted. I'd tried vegetarian. I'd tried vegan. Then I tried eating whatever the fuck I wanted, anything to keep from feeling this overwhelming sense of despair.
But I'd always been curious how things were done "before", in the "olden days", so to speak. In my mind I'd go back a hundred years, five hundred years, and wonder how things were done then, when it was "better". That was okay, but I wasn't going far enough back. I needed to go way back, thousands upon thousands of years. It helped when I was in Chapters and a book fell on my foot. I picked it up and it was about this Paleo diet. So I bought it. Hey, when a book flies out at you from the shelf, it's probably a good bet you're supposed to take it. So I read it. A bit technical but it sang to me. It made sense! No grains. No legumes. Limited dairy. Limited sugar. BIG changes! Suddenly, no more hot cereal in the morning. No more toast to dip in my fried egg. But I gave it one month, just like the book said to do. After one week (after the "carb flu") I had all this energy! I was waking up at 6am! I wanted to DO things! I wanted to move! So I started walking in the mountain by my place (it only takes 45 mins to walk the marked path over rocks, etc). And then I started riding my bike. Couldn't do hills, hell no. Huffing and puffing, but the feeling of riding my bike was exhilirating! I felt alive, for the first time in decades. I maybe rode my bike two or three times a week, but after a month I'd lost about 10lbs. And when I ate grains again, I felt my pants getting tighter again, within a matter of hours. And I felt the darkness creep back in. I felt old injuries embering back into existence. Climbing stairs was getting hard again. So I kept the grains out. I drastically lowered my sugar intake (bye bye ketchup over my scrambled eggs!) and I upped my fat intake monumentally, or so it felt. Bacon everyday! But it was the "good" fats. And I was still losing! And still feeling oh so alive!
It's been over a year, and I know when I've slipped and had something I shouldn't. Within hours I feel the old me slithering back in. After a few days, I'm back to being alive. I'm now down to my pre-pregnancy weight of 145lbs and things are still getting smaller.
Moving up to March 2012, and Marg is getting sicker, weaker. Can't eat anymore. Can't take her pills. Can't swallow water without choking. So she goes into the hospital. Is given a tube in her gut so she can get nutrients, plus a little bit of "nectar thickened" food so she can at least satisfy the psychological need to eat. There's talk of paralyzing her from the mid-back down so she can live out the remaining few months of her life relatively painfree. There were plans put in action of her moving to her mother's when she got out of the hospital, and I would ride my bike there (13km away by highway) every day that I'd work, from 9am to 4pm when her mother would get home from work. For twelve days straight, and then a weekend off. Her bed had already been moved to her mother's and set up in the living room. Her clothes were there. Everything she needed.
After ten days in the hospital, a few days before she was supposed to talk to the doctor about getting the paralyzing done, she closed her eyes and never opened them again. In the room with her was her mother, her brother, sister-in-law. So she wasn't alone. She died with her family around her. Never made it to her mother's. Her coffin was pink.
And suddenly I had all this time to myself. I had no idea what to do with myself. I thoroughly enjoyed the first month "off". I viewed it as the vacation I never got working for Marg for eleven years. And then I got bored. I got antsy. Along came an ad for summer employment, but only for people either on Employment insurance, or had been on it within the last three years. A summer job as a "trail labourer". Great! I'd be outside! I'd been doing physical work! I applied, got it, and for the next 6 weeks (until the end of August, though the job lasts until end of october), I helped re-build a boardwalk through marshland, and when that was done, we built a trail through dense forest which had us using brush cutters to cut down small trees, and then using axes to take out the roots. And then came the "fun" part: we shoveled gravel. Trailer after trailer, we filled with gravel. Drove the trailer to the path, dumped it out, and raked it flat to no less than 4 inches. Over and over again. Hard work, but I loved it. I loved feeling my muscles working, pulling and lifting and pushing. I got to drive the ATV for the first time in my life, and I now understand people's love of ATVs, even if they do tear up trails. It's hard not to go fast on them!
I miss that work. I miss the comraderie between me and four guys. I was the only female there, but I pulled my own weight. The youngest one there, 25 years old, even told me so. Steel-toed work boots, long pants (hot summer weather too!), work gloves, a hat for the sun, and sometimes safety glasses. Even in the rain, we worked. So much fun hammering in nails when the rain's soaking everything and you're 10 lbs heavier because your shirt and your pants are soaked.
During all that, I applied to go to school. First it was going to be as a PSW (Personal Support Worker). Bascially, what I'd been doing for the past eleven years, but with a degree. But people kept telling me to go into nursing, that I could do it, and besides it's better pay. So I did. I applied to my local college, and I GOT IN! Being on employment insurance allowed me to go back to school through a gov't program called Second Career which woud pay for my schooling and my living allowance. Limited to a 2-year program, plus any upgrading necessary. So now I'm taking upgrading, or Pre-Health, and if I get the marks, I'll be studying to be a Practical Nurse. If not, then the PSW program. Whichever, I'll be getting a piece of paper that says I know things, and I'll get a job, and old age security.
Oh yeah, and because my son is no longer living with us (my youngest daughter and myself), I had to move to a 2-bedroom unit, with no basement, so I had to rid of a LOT of things. But I'd read Thoreau's Walden and I was actually looking forward to downgrading my possessions and living more frugally. Really frugally, it seems, because Second Career also pays for my living expenses, but it's a very meagre amount, akin to living on welfare.
So that's it. That's what's been happening to me.
I am still alive, much more so than I was.
I'm not writing fanfic anymore. Don't really watch much television. And now that I'm going to school full time (and studying isotopes, or as I like to call them isofuckingtopes), I feel like I barely have time to wash my dishes! But I'm happy. I'm comfortable. And I have hope.
I is not dead!
Oh, far from it.
So many things have changed since I last posted here. So many freaking things. In order of happening: moved out of Marg's (old boss). Fixed my body and my mind. Lost my job (Marg passed away). Started school.
Yeah. So, in June of 2011 I moved out of Marg's and into my "own" 3-bedroom unit, a mirror one of what I lived in ten years ago. So weird. Eldest daughter (20 years old) is no longer in my life as she's chosen her drugs over her family. When I moved out, she stayed with me for a few months, and then began stealing again, so I kicked her out. A few months later she came back, I thought things were fine, they weren't. I shut her out of my life in April 2012. Yes it's hard, but it's the best thing I could do for me, and for her. Son also found a new home, at my forceful behest. He is 19 years old and it's about time he found out what Life is all about. He's doing okay though, living with his girlfriend at her mother's. Quit school, but he has a part-time job now (Walmart, I know.)
How did I fix my body and mind? I changed how I eat. Drastically. I weighed over 200lbs. I was depressed, sad, angry, and hopeless. Eating whatever I wanted. I'd tried vegetarian. I'd tried vegan. Then I tried eating whatever the fuck I wanted, anything to keep from feeling this overwhelming sense of despair.
But I'd always been curious how things were done "before", in the "olden days", so to speak. In my mind I'd go back a hundred years, five hundred years, and wonder how things were done then, when it was "better". That was okay, but I wasn't going far enough back. I needed to go way back, thousands upon thousands of years. It helped when I was in Chapters and a book fell on my foot. I picked it up and it was about this Paleo diet. So I bought it. Hey, when a book flies out at you from the shelf, it's probably a good bet you're supposed to take it. So I read it. A bit technical but it sang to me. It made sense! No grains. No legumes. Limited dairy. Limited sugar. BIG changes! Suddenly, no more hot cereal in the morning. No more toast to dip in my fried egg. But I gave it one month, just like the book said to do. After one week (after the "carb flu") I had all this energy! I was waking up at 6am! I wanted to DO things! I wanted to move! So I started walking in the mountain by my place (it only takes 45 mins to walk the marked path over rocks, etc). And then I started riding my bike. Couldn't do hills, hell no. Huffing and puffing, but the feeling of riding my bike was exhilirating! I felt alive, for the first time in decades. I maybe rode my bike two or three times a week, but after a month I'd lost about 10lbs. And when I ate grains again, I felt my pants getting tighter again, within a matter of hours. And I felt the darkness creep back in. I felt old injuries embering back into existence. Climbing stairs was getting hard again. So I kept the grains out. I drastically lowered my sugar intake (bye bye ketchup over my scrambled eggs!) and I upped my fat intake monumentally, or so it felt. Bacon everyday! But it was the "good" fats. And I was still losing! And still feeling oh so alive!
It's been over a year, and I know when I've slipped and had something I shouldn't. Within hours I feel the old me slithering back in. After a few days, I'm back to being alive. I'm now down to my pre-pregnancy weight of 145lbs and things are still getting smaller.
Moving up to March 2012, and Marg is getting sicker, weaker. Can't eat anymore. Can't take her pills. Can't swallow water without choking. So she goes into the hospital. Is given a tube in her gut so she can get nutrients, plus a little bit of "nectar thickened" food so she can at least satisfy the psychological need to eat. There's talk of paralyzing her from the mid-back down so she can live out the remaining few months of her life relatively painfree. There were plans put in action of her moving to her mother's when she got out of the hospital, and I would ride my bike there (13km away by highway) every day that I'd work, from 9am to 4pm when her mother would get home from work. For twelve days straight, and then a weekend off. Her bed had already been moved to her mother's and set up in the living room. Her clothes were there. Everything she needed.
After ten days in the hospital, a few days before she was supposed to talk to the doctor about getting the paralyzing done, she closed her eyes and never opened them again. In the room with her was her mother, her brother, sister-in-law. So she wasn't alone. She died with her family around her. Never made it to her mother's. Her coffin was pink.
And suddenly I had all this time to myself. I had no idea what to do with myself. I thoroughly enjoyed the first month "off". I viewed it as the vacation I never got working for Marg for eleven years. And then I got bored. I got antsy. Along came an ad for summer employment, but only for people either on Employment insurance, or had been on it within the last three years. A summer job as a "trail labourer". Great! I'd be outside! I'd been doing physical work! I applied, got it, and for the next 6 weeks (until the end of August, though the job lasts until end of october), I helped re-build a boardwalk through marshland, and when that was done, we built a trail through dense forest which had us using brush cutters to cut down small trees, and then using axes to take out the roots. And then came the "fun" part: we shoveled gravel. Trailer after trailer, we filled with gravel. Drove the trailer to the path, dumped it out, and raked it flat to no less than 4 inches. Over and over again. Hard work, but I loved it. I loved feeling my muscles working, pulling and lifting and pushing. I got to drive the ATV for the first time in my life, and I now understand people's love of ATVs, even if they do tear up trails. It's hard not to go fast on them!
I miss that work. I miss the comraderie between me and four guys. I was the only female there, but I pulled my own weight. The youngest one there, 25 years old, even told me so. Steel-toed work boots, long pants (hot summer weather too!), work gloves, a hat for the sun, and sometimes safety glasses. Even in the rain, we worked. So much fun hammering in nails when the rain's soaking everything and you're 10 lbs heavier because your shirt and your pants are soaked.
During all that, I applied to go to school. First it was going to be as a PSW (Personal Support Worker). Bascially, what I'd been doing for the past eleven years, but with a degree. But people kept telling me to go into nursing, that I could do it, and besides it's better pay. So I did. I applied to my local college, and I GOT IN! Being on employment insurance allowed me to go back to school through a gov't program called Second Career which woud pay for my schooling and my living allowance. Limited to a 2-year program, plus any upgrading necessary. So now I'm taking upgrading, or Pre-Health, and if I get the marks, I'll be studying to be a Practical Nurse. If not, then the PSW program. Whichever, I'll be getting a piece of paper that says I know things, and I'll get a job, and old age security.
Oh yeah, and because my son is no longer living with us (my youngest daughter and myself), I had to move to a 2-bedroom unit, with no basement, so I had to rid of a LOT of things. But I'd read Thoreau's Walden and I was actually looking forward to downgrading my possessions and living more frugally. Really frugally, it seems, because Second Career also pays for my living expenses, but it's a very meagre amount, akin to living on welfare.
So that's it. That's what's been happening to me.
I am still alive, much more so than I was.
I'm not writing fanfic anymore. Don't really watch much television. And now that I'm going to school full time (and studying isotopes, or as I like to call them isofuckingtopes), I feel like I barely have time to wash my dishes! But I'm happy. I'm comfortable. And I have hope.