Eye Surgery Fears > Chocolate Cravings

In 535 days of chocolate abstinence, especially the past 500 or so of them, I've been relatively free from obsessive thoughts about chocolate. Sometimes I see something, a candy shop window, an ad on TV, or an array of chocolate in a store, which triggers a momentary craving. But, for the most part, I'm blessed in my abstinence program with quick recovery after these stirrings.

Not true right now. A couple of weeks ago, I saw a little display of Lindt chocolate bunnies near the checkout stand at our local grocery store. I'm always drawn to bunnies anyway, and so picked one up to examine it more closely. Immediately I noticed it was not milk chocolate, which I never liked much and only ate in desperation, but dark! I noticed it was weighty, a goodly amount of chocolate. It's totally adorable with it's little, brown, crinkle-ribbon bow, and golden bell.

Adorable as the bunny may be, I could so easily chomp off its ears, devour it's nose, and scarf down all the remains of its plump little body in less than 5 minutes flat. I've been obsessing about Lindt bunnies ever since. Every time I go to the store, I can't take my attention away from them. I wake up thinking about them. After Easter, they will be gone, thank heavens, but until then, it's tough business.

Today, I'm asking why. Why am I obsessing about dark chocolate? Why is chocolate haunting me, calling my name, pleading with me to give up my abstinence, just this one time?

I have to think it's fear. Either that or the fact that my mom died 1 year ago today. She's been on my mind a lot these past few weeks. I am missing her and feeling the loneliness of not having a mom or dad any more. However, chocolate wasn't a problem for me around the time of her death. So why now? I'm back to looking at fear.

Oh ho, a thought just came to me... maybe it's both Mom and fear! In the next two months, I will be having eye surgery in both eyes, cataracts, stage 3. Yes, I've been doing the research and understand it's a common and relatively easy procedure these days. Plus it's almost 100% guaranteed to improve my vision, which has been deteriorating quickly. That's the logical, adult, reasonable way to look at it.

The little kid in me remembers Mom, when she had cataract surgeries many years ago. Mom wasn't one to complain about pain or inconvenience. She endured child births and surgeries without any sign of fear or complaint. But when she told me about her cataract surgery, her description sounded like the worst nightmare you can imagine. She told about the horror of her eye being clamped open, and being able to see the knife coming at her eye. I recall her saying she wanted to die then, and would rather be blind than ever have to go through that again.

Her surgery story has always stuck with me, as my worst daymare. So yep, memories of Mom, extra strong right now on the anniversary of her passing AND my own fears of the surgeries ahead. That's what is under the chocolate cravings. What to do about it? I don't know.

4th of July and Parades

Tomorrow, on the 4th, there will a huge parade through the streets of our little town. I won't be there. In fact I haven't attended the parade since 12 years ago when I rode in one of the county fire trucks driven by my volunteer fire fighter husband. We did that for 2 years.

It was fun, riding high above the crowds lining the streets, throwing candies out the windows to the kids, blasting the horn now and then. It was fun to be part of the parade and part of the fire department.

Since then I've always skipped the parade and the festivities in town. We've only once driven to where we could see the fireworks. Instead, we hole up on our property and wait for it to be over. Why?

Why? That's the question behind today's post. Seems to be something from my childhood, some anxiety or fear.

I recall enjoying community 4th of July celebrations as a youth, spending the whole day and evening at a local park, participating in three-legged races and such, eating hot dogs and ice cream, anticipating all day the culminating fireworks display. Didn't like the big-bang crackers, but super loved the cascading, color-changing sparklers. Happy memories. Whole family, big blanket spread on the ground, our little "turf," Mom and Dad on the blanket, like home base.

But for un-remembered reasons, we didn't go to the parade, which was the kick-off event to the day's fun. Maybe my brother went to it. I didn't.

So, going back in time, I recall going to at least one 4th of July parade in Sutter Creek, CA, as a child, maybe when I was 2 or 3? My biological father died in a car accident in September, five days before I turned 5. Since my memory has me atop my Daddy's shoulders, it must have been when I was 4 or less years old.

Feeling my way through the shreds of memory now... Daddy, taller than most men in the crowd, and me on his shoulders giving me a fabulous view! Yet it's possible I'm a little frightened by the size of the crowd and all the noise they are making. Do I feel insecure way up high, by myself? Did Daddy put me down? Was I engulfed by the crowd? Did Daddy let go of my hand for a moment? Did I get lost? I do not recall the specifics, but as I write these words, I feel agitated, anxious, with a sensation of wanting to graze in the kitchen, rare thoughts of my binge foods.

It seems pretty clear that not wanting to attend parades as a spectator has something to do with this incomplete memory. It's OK if I don't go to parades. Yet, I'd like to find a way to comfort and reassure my inner child about the past event.