I wish I could say my only struggles are with food; however, it appears as though everything is a struggle these days. Food seems to play a part in all of it. I wish I could say that I have had such a huge transformation – and I have – yet, I seem to be going backwards at times. Just the other night, I ate half a batch of brownies – they were gluten free and fresh out of the oven. Who could resist, right? I ate the other half the following day.
I would love some more to feed the treacherous, overwhelming feelings I have buried deep inside me. How could I be so pitiful? Doing everything that I have learned to overcome these emotions, and it doesn’t seem to be enough. Am I dishonest about using these tools to the best of my ability? Probably. I should be invincible. I shouldn’t have to do more work on me. I put one foot in front of the other and do my part in what’s right. I do my best and my best is not good enough. There is always more work to be done.
It’s been just a little over two weeks since I decided to make that conscious attempt to have my mother come live with me. This is a test. A test of my capabilities, I believe. To see what I can and cannot do, or change. I’ve had this dream for quite some time that I would live with my mother, cook meals that are best for her well being, and she would show an improvement in her physical and emotional abilities. It would be a perfect world under what I determine as being the best choices for her. A little control issue on my part.
Yet, I feel so out of control.
Lessons this week are as follows:
I don’t drink enough water. Diabetics need to drink a lot of water. I attempt to wean my mother off of coffee. In the process, I am not weaning myself off. I may be drinking more than I did before. When I look back at the day, how many times did I offer my mother water? How much did I drink? not enough.
I don’t know how to plan my meals effectively. I have to give myself credit for cooking at home more; however, when cooking for one, it is easy to pick one item and be happy with that as a meal – brussel sprouts, for instance, make a wonderful meal for one. Diabetics require six small meals throughout the day. They don’t have to be heavy meals, still they require some sort of preparation and thought. I am working on this.
People Pleasing is not a virtue. I want to switch my mother to my allergy friendly diet. She still insist on bread, eggs and milk. To appease her, I buy these items, and find myself indulging in the eggs. To distract her one day I bought Trader Joe’s peanut butter cups. I indulged in the soy lecithan’d morsels, filled with who knows what else, and am feeling the repercussions. I also wonder if they’ve had an affect on her mood these last couple of days.
There are still mistakes to be made. This not only applies to all the bread and muffin flops, but also to emotional crisis. Today, I tried to make my mother eat her breakfast before venturing out on errands. She was so adamant about where she wanted to go and when she wanted to get there (NOW), that she was not buying into the choices that I had given her. She won the war, and became a pleasant person to be around once we were done with the task. However, the exhaustion won over by the afternoon and she was accusing me of stealing her money.
If I can get past the financial fear I am dealing with on top of it all, I believe I can learn to organize my life a little better. “After this or that happens, things will be different.” This or that never comes. Everything is happening right at this very moment and I have to balance it all out as effectively as I can each given day, and take action regardless of the circumstances.
I will keep asking for God’s direction on how to handle each problem, as much as I feel selfish in constantly asking for help. I must have faith that my Creator has a plan for me, it is bigger than I can even imagine, and it is not my job to figure out what that is or when it will happen. Damn it.