Tag: aging

Ashes

On By NB GwenIn The Journey2 Comments

“. . . Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,
My youthful desires have been burnt with the years–
And tonight in the chilling sunset-wind
A cicada, singing, weighs on my heart.”
― Haoran Meng

It’s been a while.

The past year has been rough, to put it midly.

Am I a phoenix, rising from the ashes? Not really. I’m more an old nag trying to find a greener pasteur to ease my life.

I want to be a phoenix though. I’m losing hope. I’ve become numb. There’s ashes all around me and I don’t know how to sweep them away. I don’t know how to burn that fire to help me rise.

I’ve tried for over a decade to get help with my weight, my self image, my mental health. I’m so tired of fighting. My medications make me gain weight, my health conditions make it harder to lose weight. I’ve gone to a bariatric surgeon and got rejected due to my depression. I’ve tried every fad diet, every non fad diet, I’ve gone to a dietitian, trainer; when I say I have tried everything, I literally have – even those stupid fad pills.

My life is chaos. My husband is on the list for a Parkinson’s implant and cannot work until after that surgery minimum. Meanwhile, I chug along. Drive our child to school. drive to get coffee, drive to work, sit for eight hours, drive to home, eat, sleep, rinse, repeat.

I’ve tried explaining my life to others. I get told – you just need to exercise more, you need to eat healthier, it’s all in your head, no gain without pain. I put on my mask and just nod in silent numb agreement. They don’t know. I eat healthy – I LOVE veggies, lean meats, I love healthy food. It’s finding the energy to properly prep and cook that I struggle with. I do all the manual labour at home – I shovel, I snow blow, I mow, I build, I care and tend to everyone in the house. I’m exhausted. My spoons are gone, they took the last train out years ago.

I want to read my books, but the fog in my head makes it almost impossible to focus. That’s almost more depressing than the physical. I was smart. Now, I feel empty.

I turned 49 this year. I have so many regrets.

This post took on a direction I didn’t expect. I’ve held on to so much over the last while. Lost two more friends within six months of each other. Getting older is painful. Menopause is miserable.

I’ll never be beautiful. I’ll never be the woman I want to be. Slim, active, flexible – I used to be those things and I didn’t even know it. I remember a saying, paraphrasing – youth is wasted on the young. What I wouldn’t give to have myself back, dig myself out of the ashes and hold myself up to the light.

Beauty from the ashes, life from the earth. Fill my heart up from that shimmering pool of fire. Make me feel that passion for life once again.

Céline Dion – Ashes

Dream On

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“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist

I constantly feel younger than I am. I turned 47 a little over a month ago. Forty-freaking-seven. I am the unhealthiest I have been in my life. The bariatric surgeon says she can’t help me. I felt lost.

Notice I said felt? I’ve have found my stride. I have found my group of ladies who want the same goals and are helping me stick to it. I’ve already lost some weight, but it’s not just the physical weight coming off, it’s the mental.

I’m a very introspective person. Maybe too much so, in that I see and acknowledge my faults, whilst forgetting to acknowledge my strengths. This season is always hard on me, however, I do believe that this winter has been very hard on most people.

The days are getting longer, though. I’m no longer getting home in darkness. The sunlight dappling through the curtains in my living room are proof of that. Even with the snow we’ve been getting, signs of the Spring to come are starting to show. I feel that change. I haven’t felt it in a long time. I can’t wait to be outside, doing yard work, planting, growing things – reveling in that sunlight.

I breath in deeply and can smell those days, I dream of them. Don’t get me wrong, I do like winter. I used to be very winter active – skiing, cross-country skiing, hiking, etc. The cold seeps into my joints now though, it makes me feel old with the creeks and aches that come with it.

As I age, my mind has been left young. I am forgetful, I do struggle with some things I didn’t before, but when I look in the mirror, that image is not who I picture in my mind. I’m working of bringing those two images together into the one I want to be, the one I should be.

Meanwhile, I will dream on about the spring and summer. I will dream about being fit and working on my goals. Most of all, I will dream of having inner peace and loving myself.

Aerosmith – Dream On

Exhausted

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“Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning do to do afterward.” ― Kurt Vonnegut

I love to laugh.

Lately my MS has reared it’s ugly head and pain radiates in various areas of my body. I’m exhausted mentally, physically…emotionally.

I’m exhausted from worrying about how my children are. How can I not be a burden to them?

I’m exhausted from worrying about my husband. He has Parkinson’s, I don’t want to make him worse.

I’m exhausted from forcing myself day in and day out to sit at a desk. I HAVE to be the bread winner. I’m the only one able to work full-time.

I’m exhausted from fighting for help for my son. He’s 17; we adopted him young, but it didn’t protect him from the in-utero alcohol and drug use. Now he’s paying the price for someone else’s folly.

I’m exhausted from fighting for my daughter. She’s almost 19; she’s fought through so much emotional trauma. She’s finally conquered high school and on her way to college.

I’m exhausted from worrying about my youngest son. He’s 5; he starts this school this year and I wish with all I am that I could wrap him in a warm blanket of hugs and hold him tight to me away from the upcoming onslaught of expectations and rigidity.

I’m exhausted from trying to maintain our house. Selling it has been both the worse and best thing for us…if only it would sell…

On Friday, I meet a bariatric team in hopes of getting a much needed surgery to help me in my health journey. I have no fear in this, only hope. Hope that all this exhaustion will be worth it. Hope that I will once again find some health and joy.

Hope that I will laugh without pain and not in spite of pain. Hope that I will no longer feel so exhausted.

Foo Fighters – Exhausted

Days go by

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“In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die: 
Ever drifting down the stream- Lingering in the golden gleam- Life, what is it but a dream?” ― Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass

Today is a good day. At least, I think it is.

It’s funny how you can wake up and feel like things are good or they are bad…or they just are.

The older I get, the more it feels like time is just an illusion – we believe it keeps a steady pace, but it rushes on and slows are the most inopportune times.

I’ve been very self-examinatory lately. My oldest child will be turning 18 in a few months and finishes high school this school year. My middle child is turning 16 soon. My youngest is going to be 4 in a few months. How has so much time already flown by? How can my first baby have gone from being in my arms to preparing for her adult life?

I’ve never been a perfect parent. Far from it I feel. I feel that I’ve missed too much, not done enough, not been enough. I try – by all the powers, I have tried.

The days go by at a pace that leaves me behind. I remember when my eldest was born, how hard it was. I remember when we adopted my middle child, my sunshine boy. I remember the fear of having a section when I had my youngest – he decided coming feet first into the world was a great idea (a week before he was due no less!).

I remember the first time I saw my first neurologist and was told I have MS. I remember my doctor telling me I have osteoarthritis (I was even younger then). I remember the first time I smoked a cigarette, I remember how I quit but not how long ago it was. It feels like forever.

I can’t remember my first kiss, but I do remember my first real boyfriend.

Memories.

They are so easily lost.

I find myself constantly trying to remember. My brain has become my enemy and I try to befriend it again over and over.

Days go by, but the memories ebb and flow.

Dirty Vegas – Days go by

Regret

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“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’ve done many things in my life that have caused regret. I’ve been encumbered by my inability to act, by my inability to move past those days. I’ve been shackled by self-blame and self-hate.

It’s funny how a person can change as they age. Looking at myself as a 16 year old, I can see how carefree I was – unencumbered by life. I had issues, don’t get me wrong – but they were so minor compared to the rollercoaster of adulthood.

Regret can grip you tight and knot you up inside.

Regret.

I breathe in a great sigh.

I have wasted so much time on that one little six letter word…regret…

I am now 42 years old. I am enjoying knitting for the first time in my life (and getting creative with it). The pain and numbness of my hands does not stop me. I will not regret this. My daughter has the opportunity to go to Greece in her last year of high school…I will not regret that. My son shows more and more interest in computers and programing, I will no regret allowing him the screen-time to grow that interest. My youngest is slow to grow, but quick of mind – I will never regret nursing him as long as I have and I will never regret having him at my age.

I am learning to let go of regret. It’s a hard lesson, one that many do not heed, but it is a wonderful lesson. It is a lesson in self-love and self-acceptance.

I am learning to love myself…and that moves me past regret.

Ozzy Osbourne – Crazy Train