EQUILIBRIUM, SORT OF

Equilibrium.

The fine art of balance.

Between holding on and letting go.

I've spent the last few weeks in hell. Moving, boxing, purging, throwing, giving and realizing that there is just a time to let go. I've started going through the thousands of emails and realized how fortunate I am that I have so many friends that sent me such wonderful notes of encouragement. I can't wait to get back to them and let them know how much that meant. I went through days in a literal blur. I felt like I was swinging back and forth and the swings were long and deep.

Finally, it's all over.

I've moved in and feel like my life is back to somewhat normal. Well, let me rephrase that. I've never been normal but I'm back to being me again. You know what's weird? All those things that I couldn't live without.......I don't miss. In fact, I couldn't even tell you what's in that huge POD that I packed. I still have way too much crap and when I finally unpack it I will probably toss a ton more. 

So I'm starting to relax.

Somewhat.


I think I need to put consistency back in my life. I've been neglecting the gym and I need to start hitting it every morning. It may hurt to get on that treadmill but it does help. Not with the actual pain but it helps my self esteem and it definitely helps the way I look it my clothes. I find comfort in schedules and predictability so, maybe, if I bring it back into my life I will feel better. 


I do hate one thing.
The bathtub.


It is beyond me how there is even a bathtub in existence on the planet that is so shallow that it doesn't cover you with water. How pathetic!! Plus the water pressure is almost non-existent. I think the water flow gauge on the shower head will have to be rebuilt. Also, there is hard water and I hate it. So let me get this straight, I hate the tub, I hate the shower, I hate that there isn't a doggie door and I hate that I can hear every noise in this place.


Do I sound like a ungrateful princess?
Yes.


Let me tell you.....the bath is one of my few real pleasures. I love to read and take long soaks in the tub. I had a spa tub and I was in it every night. It won't happen in this tub. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck.


Hey!


I am getting back to normal!!


Whine, bitch, moan and complain.........


Yep.........back to normal!


Cool!

JAR OF HEARTS

Just when I think I've got a handle on my life.
Something comes up.
And it proves that I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

You know.......I've learned how to handle pain. I've accepted that I have to find a different direction for my life. I've even tried to put the past behind me. I've congratulated myself that I was able to feel like I've buried one of the most hurtful situations of my life and moved on.

I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

My daughter asked how I felt about this particular issue. I really thought that I could take a highly charged emotional issue and put it aside. Running into it head on proved to me that there are some things in this life that will stay with me for my whole life and there isn't a thing I can do to change that. 

I don't even think I want to try.

My daughter and I are practically cloned. When we give our hearts, either to some thing or someone, that's it. I don't know whether that kind of intensity is a good or bad thing. For her, it's very good. She has found the love of her life and they will both do everything in their power to keep it alive and stable. They have a love and respect for each other that's obvious to the people around them. It's not just the honeymoon phase that I'm talking about. It's a deep regard and love that has them putting each other first and foremost. Not to say that they haven't had issues but they have a commitment and their word is their bond. Nothing on this earth could make them break that vow they've made to each other. 

It's truly a beautiful thing to witness.

I've experienced loss; of my parents and the loss of the people that I've loved more than life itself.  I've felt gratitude that I've had the good fortune to feel that kind of love for another person. When it ended I thought the earth was going to open up and swallow me whole. It didn't and I didn't wither and die even though I felt like I would. 

Now I've found out that I didn't move on like I thought I did. I've opened myself up for another dose of that soul-sucking feeling all because I got curious. Well, you know what they say about curiosity. That saying is absolutely true. Whenever I get curious I get in trouble. I have this penchant for putting everything to rest and it takes a great deal for me to do that. Fortunately, I don't normally make the same mistake twice.

I'm not going to dwell on it either.

For once in my life I'm not going to push the envelope. I'm going to keep my little Miss-fix-it hands out of it and trust that life will work itself out. 

I like to say that.

Have I ever done it?

"Go with the flow" is not my forte.

DUE NORTH

Do things happen for a reason?

I've always wondered if things happen for a reason. Some people use destiny or fate as a reason why they shouldn't take their own steps but I've found that no matter what steps I choose to take, something always happens that puts life into perspective. 

I've been asked if I believed if there was a reason that we're born. I do believe that to be true. Take my story, for instance. Back in 1952 premature babies had a high death rate. Born between 26-29 weeks and weighing two pounds, survival wasn't a given. There was a high chance my lungs would not have developed to a point where they could sustain life and there was an even higher chance that I could have been blind. Instead, I beat the odds and was given to a couple in Omaha, Nebraska that wanted a small baby girl that fit in a shoe box.

My life also seemed to be full of coincidences. 

For example, I spent three months in an incubator and I was finally allowed to go home on the 17th of November. What are the odds that I would take my own daughter home from the hospital on November 17th? My original due date was October 20th; the same day as my son-in-law's birthday. 

Now, it seems that I'm coming to some sort of path that seems to have been preordained. I don't know where it will go but I have the feeling there is a definite reason for these two paths to cross. It's a little unsettling to look back and see how life leads you down certain roads. You can always change the path but can you change the outcome? 

I don't know.

Whether your experiences are good or bad there are life lessons to be learned. As unfortunate as it is our periods of growth come from these times or as I call it.........AFGO. (it's just Another F**king Growth Opportunity. The upside is that you can't appreciate something good if you'd never gone through something bad. Destiny is tricky and heady stuff. You can't read too much into it but you can't dismiss it either. When something good does happen you can't let it pass you by. You have to hold on with both hands and not let it go. 

All of this involves trust and that's never been my strong suit. It involves letting go and really believing that I can't control every aspect of my life; that there is a God in heaven that is guiding my steps. I can't just say I believe that, I really have to believe that.

It's like your compass is always pointing you...............

Due north.

IT DOESN'T FEEL LIKE 37 YEARS

37 years ago.

It seems like yesterday.

Thirty-seven years ago my dad finally succumbed to the cancer that had ravaged his body for the last few months. It was strange. We only found out that he was terminal in May. We had gone to Santa Barbara for a check-up and found out there that he may not even make it home. He had lung and brain cancer. He remained coherent almost to the end. A couple of days before he died he stopped recognizing family members but he still remembered me. I remember sitting holding his hand knowing that it wouldn't be long and I'd never see his face again.

I was a daddy's girl through and through. 

I'd walk into a room and he'd sing, "there she is, Miss America." I grew up with a strong sense of self and belonging but when he died, I felt like an orphan. I got my first taste of mortality and I didn't respond well to it. I realized life and relationships aren't permanent and from then on I kept everyone at a distance to steel myself against further loss. It didn't help that my mother died three years later. It truly shaped the way I looked at life, family and friends. 

From him I learned how to be tough and face any challenge. I learned never to knuckle under when you knew you were right. He was private, cerebral and I learned that you didn't talk about your business. I got his dry, snarky sense of humor and his quick decision making skills. I learned to take people at face value because sooner or later they will always show you their true self. He pushed me to be all that I could be which was funny because the only thing he wanted for me was to find a nice Jewish boy, settle down,  get married and have babies.

But I was a wild child.

When I was turning sixteen, my dad got driving lessons for me and bought a beautiful yellow mustang and parked it in the driveway. Smart of him NOT to teach me how to drive. It would be a case of the immovable object meets the irresistible force. Anyway, once I got the car I learned how to drive VERY fast and I still think I was the first once that felt the need for speed. I'd scream up to the Four Queens and jump out and tell the valet to hold the car. Then I'd go in and in my sweetest, syrupy voice say, "Daddy, I need money." He'd look at me and then say, "how much do you need honey?" I'd run out the door and be on my way.

What I didn't realize at the time is that he personalized my license plates with "ROSE" so that he could keep tabs on me. Even when I went to school and he didn't have the local police department keeping an eye on me, I'd get busted. When I went to school I took a run up to San Francisco to a Stephen Stills concert. I started to go back stage and who do you think the security guard was? My cousin. 

My dad knew before I hit the door.

So thirty-seven years later I still miss his counsel, advice and lecturing. 

I guess you could say I still miss my dad.

ANALYZE THIS

Do other people also wish they had a real handle on their lives?

Just when I get one hurdle crossed.

Another one pops up.

I've been called tenacious and, so I've heard, it's one of my more "endearing" qualities. It's just that I have an insatiable curiosity and when something doesn't make sense I have to try to put it in some sort of order so that I can process it correctly. The other part of that equation is that when I want something I never give up.

Where is the fine line where tenacity turns into stupidity?

There comes a point of acceptance, I guess. Sometimes there's no way to make sense out of something that will just never make sense. You can't fit the square peg into the round hole and I should just leave it at that.  I used to say, "there's Mr. Right, there's Mr. Right but I want the one in the back that will really screw up my life." I have always tried to change the unchangeable but, then again, I've always tried to fight City Hall too.


I wish I had the recognition between the "able to do" and the "I shouldn't touch this with a ten foot pole." 


I just don't understand why I just can't leave something alone and not try to figure out the why. I guess after almost 60 years, maybe I'm just not able to change the process. Maybe I shouldn't want to. It's like changing the rules in the middle of the game. You just don't do it.


Having chronic pain changes you and it plays with your confidence. I think it's difficult to put up with some of the physical limitations that arise when the flares are out of control. Couple that with the emotional issues that come along with the pain and it can be a real recipe for disaster. 


I don't understand why people walk out of your life without an explanation. It is beyond my ability to process. I know I should just accept it and let it go but my thoughts don't work that way. I have always liked hearing the bad news so that I could deal with it and move on. Without that, I tend to look back and that's not a good thing.


Maybe it's this urge to analyze everything. Well, that's not quite it. I analyze, over-analyze, do a quick once over again and then start the process over again. After that I beat it into the ground, kill it, bury it and then resurrect it to analyze it all over again. Now, if I could just do this before I act, I'd be ahead of the game.


So once again I've thought myself into a nice little flare. I have decided, though, I'm still going to go to the gym and walk through this even though the pain is still there.


Let's add this up.


I've got physical pain.


I've got emotional pain.


I've got enough baggage to take a trip around the world.


I sound like a real peach...................

LEANING TO LEVEL

Balance in all things.

Important.

Except when you can't see it.

When you have a chronic illness it's imperative that you rearrange your life so that stress isn't running your day. You would think that the people around you would understand that.

No such luck.

You get to a point in your life where you get tired of fighting. I don't mean a physical or verbal fight with people, I mean fighting against circumstances and struggles. There comes a point in time where you say, "enough." It's the point when you realize that you're struggling against the immovable force. 

You get tired.

You just get tired.

I think it's time, at least for me, to stop holding on to the past and move forward. Holding on just means holding back. I need to stop asking why and accept things for what they are. I can't look to the future if I'm looking over my shoulder at the past. I cannot continue to agonize over what I don't understand. I need to do just one thing. 


I need to let go.
I need to find laughter and joy.


I just have a little problem.


If laughter is the best medicine then I must be in the placebo group.

PITY PARTY FOR ONE

What goes better with Poor-pitiful me crackers?

Maybe a Port-Whine?

I've spent the last week feeling very sorry for myself. I suppose it's natural but I am so tired of fighting. Everything feels like it's being sucked down into this insurance denial vortex.  Now, I'm in one heck of a flare. 

Stress does not help this illness at all.

My advice?

Live in a bubble and stay away from it at all costs.

I used to take rejection very well. I was in a business that lived on it. The way I looked at it was that every "no" was one step closer to a "yes." That's the way it worked and the No's just rolled off my back. How could I do it with such ease then and with such pain now?

Why?

Because my future didn't depend on it.

That's why.

I have decided to just let my attorney deal with it. That's what he's getting paid to do so I'm going to take my little controlling hands out of it. That will lessen the load on that front. Now, I start the depositions for the car accident and that should be a whole lot of fun. I just hate them. I have to keep my emotions in check and answer questions from bozo's that couldn't find their way out of a paper bag. 

Okay, strike that. I'll be nice.

I have to get through this pity party and stand up again. 

I've never been one that accepts change well. It's weird. It's not the idea of changing. Everything evolves and I'm comfortable with that concept. Usually the people spouting how great change will be are the ones that want to institute change and it's usually to fit in with their agenda. That's the part I'm not crazy about. I'm more into logistics and looking into every possible scenario that could come up from moving that particular chess piece clear across the board. That is what gets me into trouble. I'm real good at looking at scenarios. Maybe it's my cynical way of looking at everything instead of being an optimist. Let me rephrase that. To me it's not cynicism, it's realism.

I think the problem also stems from the fact that change brings stress which brings me back full circle. Fibromyalgia, change and the stress that it brings to not belong in the mix together. It definitely does not do the body good. I just keep thinking back to the thought that all of this will build character. Yeah, right. You know the next line........I definitely have a lot of character.  

So now I have to just suck it up and leave the pity party.

Can I take at least one balloon with me?

I hate to leave empty-handed.

GOT TO BE REAL

"God has given you one face."

"And you give yourself another."

William Shakespeare

I hear a lot about "being real," about being "your authentic self."  Is it really possible? Maybe it is to a certain point but I'm not sure anyone can be truly real. In my own mind I just don't think its really possible.

I don't think it's realistic to think that anyone can get through this life without their psychological skin being burned at some point. For some, it's a scarring that means major therapy and for others it's the place we start the construction of walls. I don't think I've met anyone who doesn't have some point at which public knowledge ends and privacy begins. 

So what is meant by "being real?" How much of ourselves do we have to show the real world before we're considered fake? If we don't choose to show it all are we living a lie?

I went to my reunion a few weeks ago and after I left I felt like I was living that proverbial lie. I was smiling like everything in my life was fine but nothing could be farther from the truth. Every bone in my body hurt. The car accident and this subsequent illness has wreaked havoc in every way possible; physically, emotionally, spiritually, in my career and financially. Did I want to appear weak and out of control to my former classmates? Not only no, but hell no! So, am I not being real? Do we need to expose our vulnerabilities to be real? Is this I'm okay, you're okay stuff going too far?

Where does being real begin? 

What does it mean?

I know I have walls up. Only my closest friends get past most of them but there are still those that are ingrained so deeply no one will ever pass them.  I do know that one of the deepest has to do with abandonment. I'm equally as sure my adoption has a great deal to do with it. There are pieces to the puzzle of me that only I can fit to make the puzzle whole. I'm not sure I even want to put the puzzle together. What would be the benefit at this point?

So the face we put to the world is the self that we want others to see at face value, so to speak. The rest has to be earned. Chronic pain is the proverbial icing on the cake. Yes, it makes you introspective but it also brings the false face to the forefront. Invisible illness is just that. It is a false face that we present to the world so they don't see the physical pain that lies underneath the surface. Physical pain, emotional pain: pain is pain, no matter how you cut it. 

So what is "knowing our authentic self?" I think that most of us know who we are. We know what brings us pleasure and what brings pain. We might not know what we want to do with that knowledge but that has no bearing on the knowledge. We present to the world that which insulates our psyche. It's not a false self, it's a safe self. We've been conditioned to believe that if we don't bear all we're not being "real" and I don't think that is the case at all. 


I just don't think we have to tell all. 


I think there is such a thing as too much information.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DANIELLE

This is one of my favorite posts.

For many reasons and on many different levels.

It's been thirty years in the making.

I can honestly say that there is nothing else in this life that has brought me greater joy than my daughter Danielle. I said that the first time I felt her move and I can say it again today. There truly is no greater gift in this life than your children.

I remember being in the bathtub about three weeks before she was born. All of a sudden she dropped and I could breath deeply for the first time in months. I didn't care about any of that. All I could think about was that she was getting ready to come into the world. I started thinking about so many things. I prayed she'd be healthy and I prayed that I'd be a good mother. 

I had no idea how deeply I'd fall in love and it only took an instant.

I had a C-section and as they cut me open and brought her out into this world, she was looking around the room. She always did things her own way and it started from the moment she took her first breath. At three months she started to shove my hands away so she could hold her bottle herself. She was independent and wanted to do things her way.  Nothing much has changed. Danielle was definitely not the type of child to be reined in. The only thing I could do was draw a big circle and let her move freely within it. She could make any decisions within that circle but if she took one step out her little fanny was mine and we worked well together within that framework. When a lot of children and parents were at odds, Danielle and I drew even closer together.

We moved to a new house when she was four and we built a HUGE sand area in the back yard. She had her own little house out there but it wasn't quite enough. She wanted a microwave in there so she could make her own hot dogs in her own house. She ate pyracantha berries and ran when I tried to take them out of her mouth. She walked at 8 months and ran shortly thereafter. Nothing would ever be the same again.

When asked at school what we wanted to do in outer space she replied, "I want to ride a shooting star." There she is in one simple statement. She wrote about the red dress that I wore when I went out at night and canary diamonds. I then told the teachers that I wouldn't believe anything that Danielle said about them if they would do the same in return. She wrote a report on amphibians in the first grade and found a National Enquirer that said "Woman gives birth to frogs," and used that as her research. Her teacher called me and laughed like crazy while I was cringing. She gave her an A.

Danielle has her own code and way of looking at things. She is fiercely independent and loyal. Heaven help you if you come against anyone or anything she loves. She doesn't give many second chances. She also doesn't have many shades of gray; trust, loyalty and love are the words she lives by and expects the people in her life to live by them as well. Did I mention stubborn?

I've always been immensely proud of her and, again, nothing much has changed. I may not have agreed with all her decisions but they were hers to make and the lessons learned were hers also. She has always known that whatever decision she makes, good or bad, I'll be right there beside her. 

She's met the man who will be her life partner and its a good match. It's full of fire, passion and love. They share a wonderful trait; when they give their word it's gold. He lives by the same codes and values that she does.  I have no doubt that 50 or more years will go by and they will still be together looking back on a life full of joy and yes, challenges and wonder. They will treat their love as something profound and rare; something that shouldn't be wasted. I can't wait to give her away to this wonderful man. He's not my son-in-law, he's my son and I couldn't be happier about this match. 

So thirty years has gone by since the night that I gave birth to her. It was the most wonderful night of my life and it has been such a joy to watch her grow into the lovely, giving and gracious woman she's become. I can only hope that she will avoid the mistakes that I've made and I hope that she has as much joy and fun with her daughter as I've had with her. Danielle is my greatest accomplishment in this life. I couldn't love anything more. She will learn so many life lessons when she has her children but, most importantly, she will learn the lesson of true unconditional love. 

I've passed on the curse and I know it works.

I had a little girl just like me and I know she'll have one just like her. Over-reaction runs rampant on the female side and she'll have a whole lot of fun with her little girl. I really can't wait to see it. Her soon-to-be husband will have to sit back and shake his head. Me? I'll be laughing and reveling in the perks that grandchildren bring.

She's wonderful, strong and full of life.

 She is my daughter.

She is her own person.

She is beautiful, inside and out.

She is Danielle.

I love you more, my baby!

Happy 30th Birthday!

MEET THE PARENTS

July is always a tough month for me.

It's been 36 and 33 years

and even though the pain is gone

the reflections are bittersweet.

I don't think that you should learn the lesson of mortality in your early 20's. It changes you and, in my case, not for the better. My parents death shook me to my very core and removed the feeling of security. It served to cement the knowledge that nothing in this life is permanent and that knowledge has followed me, in varying degrees, until this very day. It not only followed me it shaped the way I looked at family, friends and life.

I didn't need or want to know that. 

I'm not sure what to write. I know that I miss them; their counsel and just their very presence. I believe that my life choices would have been very different if they had been here. I think if I had to decide, I'm more like my dad. He had a dry sense of humor and very quick decision making skills. He was more cerebral and very private. My mother was a wonderful cook and could make anything grow. She had a tender heart and showed every emotion on her face. She was hysterical and my dad likened her to Lucy. When I see some of the characteristics in writing I realize I'm a blend. I know that genetics obviously play a large role in development but, since I was adopted, I can tell you that a lot of it I picked up by osmosis. Either that or my biological parents were a carbon copy of my parents.

I really do wish that my daughter could have known her grandparents. That's one of my biggest regrets. They would have spoiled her rotten and to my mind, that is exactly what grandparents are supposed to do and I am certain that when my daughter has children I will most certainly follow that wonderful tradition. Spoil them and then send them home.

It's weird. July 9th is the anniversary of my mother's death and it is also the birthday of my daughter's almost mother-in-law.  When I was born I was premature and was in an incubator for 3 months. I needed to reach 5 pounds so I could go home. I was sent home on November 17th and that is the same day that I brought my daughter home from the hospital when she was born. My mother's birthday was May 26th and that is the day I got married. I could go on an on about coincidences with important dates in my life. It always seems to happen that way for some reason. Is that weird or what???

So July is a month of reflection for me. My parents would be in their 90's if they had lived. The other VERY strange thing is the age they were when they passed away. My mom was 59 and my dad was 61. They seemed so old to me......I mean, parents were old. They looked old to me and they acted old.  I'm almost the same age as my mother was when she died and I can't see myself as being old. I don't look it and I certainly don't act it. Come on, I am not ready to be a grownup!

That's the trick that age plays on us. Our bodies, no matter how in shape or toned we are, do age but our minds don't catch up. I still feel the same way that I did in my 20's except  I just have a little more experience under my belt. Well, a lot more experience. This is when I look in the mirror and  hate my neck. I've never been tempted to get a face lift but I have been tempted to refresh my neck just a tad. That's the thing about aging. You really do miss your neck. Also, when you walk down the street in your 60's, not many turn around and say, "whoa, baby"!

You know, I may be more like my mother than I realize. I started this post kind of blue and missing my mom. She was also a random thinker and she'd come up with stuff out of the blue and I'd look at her and wonder where the heck did that come from?  Well, I don't have to look far to find her. She's right here.

Hello mom.........your daughter is keeping up your glorious tradition and you'd be happy to learn that it has been passed on to your granddaughter. 

We're all just three little peas in a pod.

KICKING THE HORNET'S NEST

I feel like the girl who kicked the bee's nest.
Why are the bee's flying around me now?
Gee, I don't want to get stung....
I shouldn't have kicked the damn nest in the first place.

I read a friend's post and she was talking about how she blew it big time and it started me thinking. Well, how it started out she was rationalizing how a reasonable woman would never take candy from their child's Easter basket. First of all, I've done that a million times and I still feel no shame. It was the part about acting out and having all these issues and regrets that started me thinking.

And that's a very bad thing.

I start getting introspective and it does a couple of things. First of all it gives me headaches because there are so many issues that I have to deal with and I'm still not crazy about digging up all that pain. The second thing it does is make me reach for either chocolate or donuts and that can be either singular or plural. It's not a good thing for my backside because I still have that 25 pounds that I have to lose and just thinking about that hammers my self esteem.

The self esteem issue is probably a huge one because I struggle with it on a daily basis. I look in the mirror and see a woman in pain. No matter how you cut it pain still shows up on your face and you can always see it in your eyes. You can smile but pain will never fool your eyes. I have become someone that I don't know. Or have I? Is this the woman that was there all the time and I just kept her hidden away? Is all of this finally showing and I'm just now seeing it? 

I hope not.

I keep coming back to this issue of perfection and I still don't have it quite right. See the irony here? I just don't know why sometimes I feel that I'm just not good enough. Some people stuff their issues and some people medicate or drink away their issues. I sought to love mine away. If I was just good enough they would all go away. Of course, I wasn't good enough so the quest began again. I set myself up for failure. There would always be flaws because we are all imperfect beings. The opposite side of that coin, for me, was that I expected them to leave so I was always ready for that possibility. 

I'm just now beginning to see what that issue cost me. 

I had an ex that loved to manipulate situations. It wasn't for any love of me or what was best for me. It was all a game and what was best for him in that moment. Unfortunately, I didn't see it at the time and it set into motion a number of events that I will forever regret. We don't get through this life without making mistakes and I have made a couple of beauties. I cannot go back but I am going forward. What I want the past to do is help me NEVER to make the same mistake again. The other thing I hope that it does is give me wise counsel so that if someone I care for is about to make the same mistake I can help them before they go down that same path.

There are times that I wish I had a time machine and could go back in time. I would do things so differently. I would react oh-so differently and I would stand at those forks in the road and take a completely different path. I would speak in tenderness instead of anger and I would stand instead of retreating. I would laugh instead of cry and I would have chosen right instead of wrong. I would have understood what the saying, "by the choices we make we create the life we have," meant and chosen wisely.

What I have learned is to choose the higher ground. I think before I speak and I try never to say anything that I don't mean because once it comes out of your mouth you can never take it back. I think I have more compassion and tolerance for myself than I ever did before. While I still have plenty of things to deal with, I don't hate myself as much as I used to. I have learned how to say no and not feel guilty and I have come to the realization that everyone doesn't have to like me. Maybe, just maybe, I am beginning to believe that I just may be enough. Well, that's a big maybe.

Does this mean I'm becoming a grown-up?

PERFECTION

It rained. 

The wind was  blowing. 

Then it stopped. 

There is a lot of emotion and introspection when pain hits. I think I'm still dealing with perfection issues and that is the basis of the problems I'm having right now. This disease brings to light that we are not perfect and, as much as we don't like it, we might have to ask for help. 

Help comes in different forms. Asking for anything has never been easy for me. I've always been the one who's offered help but taking it is another thing altogether. I abhor being in a position of weakness and that is what asking for help does to me. I know I shouldn't be that way but something in me hates accepting anything from anyone. 

Does it make me feel obligated? 

Maybe. 

I think it's more than that, though. I still say it makes me imperfect and weak. It makes me realize that I'm not as strong as I think I am and I can't take care of myself all the time. It's self-reliance and I may not be in total control of my destiny. I hate that.

I set this bar of perfection for myself. I don't care what it is. My biggest problem is that I've gained weight due to thyroid issues and inactivity. I can't accept it. I look at my face or my body and end up hating myself. If I'm not attaining the perfection that I set for myself then I've failed and I hate to fail at anything. I just want to give up trying to be perfect and just be who I am. 

If I do anything I do it all the way. I work hard, play hard and rest hard. I also got sick hard. I guess I've been perfect at that as well. I wake up everyday thinking that I'll set these realistic boundaries for myself and once again I find a way to count everyone of my imperfections. I find a way to include just one more task, one more email or one more activity that I know will hurt me tomorrow. 

I know all this and still I do it.

I do it and then I beat myself up for it. 

What does it take to reach a point of acceptance? Sometimes I think acceptance and resignation is the same as defeat. There we go again. Anything less than perfection is failure. I know I should let go and let God deal with it. All this faith that I claim to have has not remedied this in my life. I do have faith but I don't know how to let go and let God deal with these issues. In my head I know that I'm an imperfect being but the bar that I've set for myself is a different issue altogether.

How do I change that?

I really want to learn.