Eeeegad! Twelve days since I last posted. Lots has happened, yet I just haven't had the mojo or energy or desire to write about it.
A dear friend who follows this blog emailed, sending concerns. I responded, saying:
Despite the joy of not having sugar obsessions blaring in my consciousness every moment of the day (or possibly because of it), my emotions and thoughts are a bit confusing and extreme. My husband and I continue to work at our marriage, but have had a few set-backs lately. I don't seem able to do any beading, although I've been knitting and quilting a lot. I think it is mostly a matter of dealing with all of the emotions that surface at this time of year in some other way than overeating and binging. I've been thinking of writing a post trying to work with, or at least name, the emotions... a bit stuck there as well. Not to worry though, this will pass.
Her compassionate reply to the above indicates a remarkable depth of understanding and provides the impetus I needed to open this posting window. She also sent me the image of a little, porcelain bunny, the one you see above, giving me the title for this post. Yep, I'm hanging in there, ears back, stretched out, gripping firmly the lifeline of sobriety, just like the rabbit. What else can one do?
It feels a little daunting to face my emotions, to write about my feelings. Maybe a Ten Things List will do the trick? OK, then. Ten emotions that surfaced today:
- Worry. I had three Dr. appointments at our local clinic today. One for little-toe bunions with a podiatrist who comes here once a month. One for a flu shot. One for an odd lesion on my left breast, a little red mole that turned red and got all scabby starting 9 days ago. I can build tragedy in my mind so easily. Worry. I worry and procrastinate, hoping it will go away. Turns out it was only a scratch (how that happened I have no idea) across the mole that got a little infected.
- Fear. It's snowing a goodly amount right now, accumulating rapidly. When it snows like this, my car does not leave the garage. Lots of fodder for worry and fears here. How many days will it last? Will we have enough food? Will our pipes freeze? Will our water pump break as it has in past years? Will I miss the OA meeting tomorrow morning? Will our power go out from snow laden trees falling on power lines? (A calm, little voice is saying: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change...)
- Joy. I decorated a wooden stick-tree with battery-run Christmas lights, twigs of fir and white ribbon bows as a display for selling beaded spirit dolls at the Farmers Market tomorrow. Probably won't make it because of the snow, but it gave me great joy to make the display and have it look so sweet.
- Happy. Walking 2.2 miles this morning with my neighbor made me happy.
- Despair. Looking at Christmas cards in town today lowered my spirits considerably. Do I want to send cards this year? Some years I've had fun making cards, sending them to a few special people. Most years my husband and I send cards with a brief newsletter. Many of our card and gift exchanges feel hollow, little more than a habit, following the path of expectations, meaningless.
- Resentful. From thinking about cards and gifts, my thoughts drifted toward my husband. A few weeks ago, I suggested we volunteer to help with the community Thanksgiving dinner this year. He doesn't seem interested. I got a list of work assignments and read them to him. None of them appealed to him. Do they still need helpers? Should I go alone and leave him home to have a peanut butter sandwich for Thanksgiving dinner? I am procrastinating, not volunteering, not planning a meal for us either, feeling stuck and resentful.
- Relieved. I'm glad I saw the Dr. about the lesion today and relieved to know it's a non-issue.
- Sad. Last week I went to our annual Quilt Camp, four days of stitching and socializing with about 40 local women who quilt. Big bag of mixed feeling there, some good, some not so good. I don't make main stream quilts using the latest patterns and fabrics. The noise of sewing machines and constant chattering annoys me, so I find a spot in the corner to work. I'm shy, always have been, not much of a socializer, a loner. I tend to focus on working and getting my projects finished rather than on people. Part of me wants to be more like them and with them... sadness blankets me. I don't seem able to shake it.
- Lonely. My three best women friends are unavailable to me right now because of work, travel or other activities.
- Guilty. I'm behind on lots of things and not very focused about catching up. Procrastinating on both little and big things, the to do list grows ever longer and I feel more shame.
Well, that's a bag-o-feelings for the day. I feel good about naming them, revisiting them as an on-looker, detached a little from the experience of them. They're not so bothersome in a Ten Things List as they are in my mind. How cool is that!