Reset. Refresh. Reboot. Restart. Re-do. Do over. Do more. Do better.

Just. Do. It. (F-bomb for emphasis might be strategically yet invisibly inserted in that statement.)

I am a fan of ridiculously long blog post titles (obvs).

I am a type 2 diabetic, but not very in control of my condition. On Sunday I finally screwed up my courage and marched myself down to the lab for the various blood tests my new physican ordered for me. In April. At my request.

Yeah, I have procrastination and head-in-the-sand avoidance techniques down to an art form. But I did it. I made myself go in there fasting and had 5 vials of blood drawn. When I got home, I made an appointment with my doc to receive the bad news.

Only the results started coming in Sunday night. By Monday morning, all my bad behaviors of the last 14 months came home to roost.

My doc’s personal message said it all to me:

I just reviewed your blood work and your blood sugar is out of control. Please schedule an office appointment so we can meet and discuss this face to face.

New doc via text

Shit. I felt like I had just gotten caught doing some very bad thing in class and was being summoned to the principal’s office to discuss my transgressions and how I need to improve my behavior.

I was half expecting this type of response. The whole professional support team that deals with diabetes and other chronic conditions had already been in touch and were demanding insisting encouraging me to make an appointment to get started on improving my behaviors managing my condition.

Fortunately, I feel more ready to take advantage of the programs they offer. Perhaps this time I will climb back up on that wagon and success will stick, undeterred by job stress and life stress (which result in emotional eating, indulging my sugar addiction, and essentially not caring much about the long-term impacts.

I do believe the only thing that has saved me from really bad outcomes has been my 3.75 years (it will be 4 years in October) of consistent and regular resistance training exercise. While I have slacked off in the last 14 months, “slacked off” for me means that I have averaged 4.67 gym visits per week in that time period whereas before, when I had a much better handle on all aspects of my life, I would go stretches of 90 to 100 days without missing a day.

Today I began the reset button. To borrow the motto of AA and other addiction based support programs, one day at a time. Today was day 1.

My successes:

  1. No soda. I don’t drink diet soda; the full calorie, full sugar version is my heroin. To put this in perspective: for the last 6 months, I have had at least 2 20 oz. bottles of coke every single day. Some days it was the equivalent of 2 liters of soda.
  2. No candy. While I would not say I have eaten my weight in chocolate, I have routinely had a king sized chocolate bar most days of the week.
  3. Logging food at MyFitnessPal. I opened this for the first time in months, updated my weight (I have gained 8.6 lbs. since my last login), and dutifully wrote down everything I ate today. I was at 1536 calories, only 336 over my 1200 calorie target. It’s a start.
  4. Testing and taking medications. I actually tested my blood sugar and took medications on time today. I need to find a better schedule/solution, but again, it’s a start. While mainlining sugar, I have been wildly inconsistent about the medications to control my sugars.
  5. Exercise. I was at the gym this morning doing a lower body workout. This is nothing new or even very special, but I feel more focused and deliberate in this endeavor.
  6. Steps! I have a fitness tracking watch that counts my steps. While the goal has been 10,000 since I got the watch in November, I have yet to make that goal. Today, I paid attention to that metric and made about 5,000. With some focus and deliberate effort, I want to extend this to the 10,000 step daily goal.

Bad habits I will have to overcome:

  1. Breakfast pastry. I have a super weakness for croissants and gave in to the impulse this morning. While “only” 12 grams of sugar, it’s 580 calories, 58 grams of carbohydrates, 37 grams of fat. I am skipping dinner for that bad boy. I console myself that at least I limited myself to 1 rather than the 2 I have been consuming.
  2. Piss poor attitude toward blood sugar readings. I have tested routinely throughout the day, and it was only tonight that my reading fell into range. It’s discouraging. It’s depressing. It makes me wonder why I try. It’s only day 1. I keep telling myself: Self, it’s ONLY DAY 1. GET THE F**K OVER YOURSELF.

For a first day of restarting health recovery, I did not do too badly. I am a big fan of celebrating small wins, only now it’s with a glass of ice water.

Tomorrow is a new day. I am hopeful today is the start of a new streak of better lifestyle choices.

Is this estrangement?

My daughter lives across the country. She and her husband moved 2.5 years ago in a great leap of faith and with a soft landing of a job transfer.

For the most part, they are happy and have weathered the storms of being thousands of miles from their families and the lives they knew here. That first year they both came home separately for visits. My son-in-law (SIL) was homesick and missed his family and friends, my daughter (D) was overall having a tough time with depression and anxiety and felt the need to come back and touch base.

From the geographical distance, I have done everything I could to help and support them through the rough spots. Our communications have been sporadically consistent, but when she lived 5 miles away our communiations were sporadically consistent. It is my daughter. It is me. It is the pattern of speech and interaction we have established as we navigated the family dynamic.

D and SIL flew into town at the end of July and were in town a week. I know because D called and told me the dates when she purchased their tickets, described their projected activity and schedules, and we made some loose plans to get together and looser plan to speak privately about something on her mind.

About two weeks prior to their arrival I texted about the upcoming vacation. I was excited to see them after more than a year. She responded that the day could not get here soon enough!

On the Tuesday they were to arrive, I texted her again to see if they were in the air? I had a vague idea they would be arriving early afternoon. My SIL’s stepdad was picking them up at the airport, and they would staying with my son and daughter-in-law in town, but I was half expecting a phone call or text with any scheduling updates.

Silence. No text reply or phone call.

Finally, before I went to sleep that night, I texted again to see if they had indeed arrived safely?

This time, there was a quick confirmation, apology, and explanation that it had been a long day.

That was the last text I received.

On my DIL’s instagram, I saw photos with her paternal grandparents birthday dinner (their arrival a surprise that delights me still) as well as a pic from a concert she and my DIL attended the next day.

I waited for contact with suggestions about getting together. Or even a “hey, we are way too busy to get together this trip.” Nothing. Finally, on Sunday, I texted my surprise at not seeing or hearing from them and I wished them safe travels on the flight home.

Tuesday my SIL posted a photo of the window view from the plane on their way home. Not a text or phone call from either of them. I am disappointed in this turn of events.

My question: is this estrangement?

I think about this situation and wonder if this is it? Will we ever interact again? I chastise myself for being overly dramatic and conflating her silence with estrangement. I examine my own thoughts and emotions, wondering what I said or did that might have been hurtful or infuriating to bring this about?

Honestly, I don’t know.

My truth: I do not believe this is me, doing something egregiously offensive and shocking them into silence as their only defense.

More importantly, I do not know that I care to try to dredge up reasons for being shut out.

Make no mistake, I love my daughter and my son-in-law, so much that I respect their agency to make their own decisions. If I fault her for anything, it is not being clear and direct as far as her choices. I would never make demands for their time or attention, but I feel justified in mild expectation of communication, even if it was simple regrets about availability.

But in the big picture of families, being ghosted is small-ball. Maybe it blows over, maybe it lasts the balance of my life. I cannot fully understand what she is doing or why with the information available to me.

In my heart, I want her to be happy. Whatever her reasons, my hope is her silence and our distanct contributes to her overall sense of peace.

But in my head and beneath the pragmatism of my views on agency and personal responsibility, I feel hurt by the rejection … if that is even the appropriate term for this situation. It is not something I need to get over, yet it is something I wish I understood.

Jumping in … except I really don’t jump

There are a lot of things in my head I want to write about, just to Kon Marie my head and thinking. While I am not quite naive enough to believe it will impact my life in significantly positive ways, I am hopeful enough to believe it will streamline the cognative processing process.

So I am putting forth another rah-rah! go me! backgroun post as I prepare for the brain dump that is coming.

For now, a little more about me.

I have a husband and have been married since 1998, so 21 years. In addition to that, we lived together for almost 7 years before getting married. Ours is a good and stable union, and through the years I have come to realized H is the imperfect guy who is nearly perfect for me.

Into this marriage I brought 3 young (at the time) children. I was divorced and my kids at the time we began dating were 4, 5, and 7. The kids’ father was part of their lives, so it was not as if my H became insta-father to them. He was present, we made decisions regarding our life and times together, although he mostly left any required disciplining to me. There were expected standards of behavior set forth from him, though, and while they are not now and were not then far off the normal rules of polite society, my H and I are different enough to make me feel his implementation was too heavy handed. In hindsight, his approach differed from my own.

Growing up, the kids were easy-going and good kids. No serious issues other than having to nag about getting homework done, etc. I like my kids as people as well as love them because they are my offspring. As grown-ups, they are caring and responsible adults.

I do not think my life is anything special in either its ordinaryness or its lack of spontaneous drama. H and I are both flawed in different ways, and the strengths and weaknesses of our personalities are evident in our choices and living our lives. A good example: H is extremely active on social media sites – Facebook and Instagram – and stands firmly in his beliefs and is willing to wade into the muck when his values are challenged or mocked. Me? I quit FB a couple of years ago after a very limited presence for about 18 months. I also just deleted an instagram account after 8 months and zero posts. I dislike the venom and the poison that is often found in these public forums.

Blogging limits my exposure to the shenanigans in social media and helps me maintain balance. I feel more in control of my own narrative here in my own blog.

And I want to stay practical, positive even when the tales are woeful, sad, or inspire a sense of white-hot anger. Facts and circumstances can inspire strong emotion, and while I do not have anything again expressing emotion, I understand that my reactions are not necessarily going to effect change on the facts or events. I would like to influence the outcome of future situations and circumstances, though. In my mind, I cannot rewrite the story of what has happened to me, but maybe I can create happier endings to similar situations going forward.

I am, at my core, a hopeful optimist.

I must have something to say, right?

This is the first post on a new blog, so I must have something to say, right?

Probably so, only I seem to be thought constipated right now. A lot of events in the last week have me thinking about the last couple of years and the burning desire to document them in a definitive way. My marriage. My husband, My grown children. My job(s). Health. Diet. Exercise. Insecurity. Money. The past, present, future. Ideas. The random observations that amuse and bemuse me that I feel the need to memorialize.

Stories. Yours. Mine. The stories add so much color and texture to our days.

Essentially: EVERYTHING. Life is interesting to me. Life and living is an ongoing adventure and full of lessons in infinity.

So let’s get started.

Tomorrow.

About me?

What can I tell you about me?

What would you like to know?

I have no particular theme in mind, or anything profound to share with you. But I spend a fair amount of time living inside my head, lost in my own thoughts and ideas and observations of what happens in the day-to-day business of living.

I love the stories. I love mine, I am optimistic that I will generally love yours. I love the authenticity and rawness of living and the reporting we share with one another. The good and the bad. The positive and the negative. The black and the white. And all the meh and neutral and gray in between.

As my tagline says, I want to remember this.