Just a short note. Who knows when I'll get back to this. I've gained weight since my DH's death. I won't blame anyone else but myself. I had a long talk with my therapist and we finally hit upon the catchphrase that seems to define how I'll lose all this weight-- I CHOOSE.
I'm a control freak whose life spiraled out of control the day my poor Randy died. Since then, I've made decisions where I felt there was no other option. For over a year, I had to decide based on bad vs good, not which one suited me. Finally, my therapist (Dr Marty Groble, for those in the Jacksonville area) pointed out that what went into my mouth was one of the few things I had a direct choice in making.
Well, my Band-Buds, it was an epiphany. There was my point of control, and I've been reveling in it for a couple of weeks. I've lost five pounds because I can look at the chocolate vs the peach and say "I choose the peach because I choose health." I have chosen to start walking again when possible. I've chosen to begin quilting again rather than sit on my butt playing mindless computer games. I've made so many choices, I'm smiling again.
Even the house I had to move into when Randy's death forced me into foreclosure is no longer a point of resentment and negativity. I've chosen to make it work rather than move to something less congenial if prettier. Sure, this is a 2-bedroom house 30 miles from my job. It's in a gorgeous neighborhood with a park, as familiar and comfortable as my favorite pair of blue jeans, and it's cheap. I can have my pets here. An apartment close to my work would cost $200 more a month and we'd have to get rid of our pets.
"We??" you ask? Yep, we. That gent who gave me the pearl ring? I chose not to marry him, but we're a happy pair of roommates. I chose him, too.
