Wednesday, December 7, 2011

203.2. Hiding.

I've been hiding.  From you.  And from me.

My weight has fluctuated up and down a bit and when I think why all I come up with is the same excuses that I'm tired of.  So I haven't written.  Plus, I have been in a mood that I have not been able to explain the origin of or find solutions to.  Plus Plus, I have wanted to give up on myself and it has only been five weeks since I started this.  Hence the hiding.  I love that word.  Hence.

But, last night, with Dale (my husbands real name - not Harold which I will probably still call him) out of town, Dani working, and the babies in bed, I was alone.  So I took advantage of this quiet time and with the house dark except the Christmas tree rainbow lights, I turned on the fireplace, snuggled in a comfy chair, and reflected.  On me. 

My mind thought of the words I've read from comments and fellow bloggers of encouragement, road blocks, and strategies.  I thought of the experiences I had been having at work and at home.  I thought of my own actions in eating and exercising (or lack of).  But it was when I thought of my recent evening with daddy when we started to clean out my momm'a clothes that slowly my mind started to clear.

Momma wanted her clothes donated to the humanitarian center for others in need soon after she passed away so I cleaned out her dresser and most of her closet  since it would be difficult emotionally for daddy to do it.  I took her clothes off the hangers and neatly folded them, then put them into a bag for him to take to the center the very next day.  I found myself not wanting to give anything of hers away because I felt I was losing her again.  Her smell.  Her colors.  Her essence.  Her.  But I knew I had to do it because daddy couldn't.  It wasn't debilitating or paralyzing since my moment a bit ago, so I committed myself and dried my tears, and did it.

Mind clearing.  As I stared into the flames last night, watching them dance, I realized why I was hiding.  Like my momma's clothes, I did not want to get rid of my stuff.  Why though.  Because I had not fully committed myself.  I wanted a Julie to come take over my life, like I did for my daddy, but that isn't going to happen.

I have to do this on my own.  The 'hard work' way.  I have to dry my proverbial tears and COMMIT.

Tomorrow I fly to Ontario and work for a day then get to meet up with Dale where we get to spend a weekend with his son, wife, and four babies, swimming in the hotel pool, wandering around Oak Glen, making divinity (his families tradition), and spending time just enjoying family.  I will also be thinking of me and how and what I need to do to make a FIRM commitment to myself and I will report.

If I hide again, will you come find me?


1 comment:

  1. commitment really clears up the cobwebs. It's like t have kids...and it isn't even a thought. Of course you are committed. When I started losing weight, to place that same level of commitment on myself. That was a strange concept. And finding a reason to place myself as that high of a priority, it took a while. you will go through a few of these type of epiphanies. It's kind of nifty looking back, actually. Sometimes we need to stand back and look. You are doing great.