I'm crying right now. It's been six months, and it's just hitting me now that I had a square cut out of my skull and my brain messed with. There is one visible scar from the whole thing, but it's not where you'd think, it's on my neck. My long, luxurious strawberry hair has covered the 32 staples, the red angry horseshoe carving and the dent where the plastic skull cover didn't quite match the size of my face.
In July last year I started noticing I had a headache all the time. It wasn't a big headache so I just went about my life, but I kept noticing that it was there, all the time, in the back ground. I assumed that it was stress from the recent death of my father in law. The kids had taken it pretty hard. Hud seemed on the surface to be doing okay, but he's such a deep personality that I was always worrying that he was crying inside. His mom was taking the death especially hard, and we were all worried about her health and her psyche. I figured there was enough there to be causing the constant pressure. In August though, about half way through, I realized that it was affecting my personality. I was getting angry with the kids so much more. I had such little patience with everything. And always, in the background, was the knowledge that I was angry or frustrated because my head just wouldn't stop hurting. I kept running, kept lifting, kept biking, hoping that the activity would loosen the stress and stop the pain, but it just didn't go away. Finally, about the end of the month, right when the kids were starting back at school, I decided to run to the doctor for drugs to tamp this things down. I don't remember much about the initial visit, other than I couldn't describe just how annoying the headache was so that he would understand my concern. I knew I didn't have a migraine. It didn't effect my vision and it didn't make me nauseated. I couldn't be sure if it got worse as the day went on or better. All I knew, was that by that point I was sure that every morning when I woke up, that pain was going to be my first sensation. He gave me something, and told me to take it for a week and see if I felt better. By the time I left the office, I had already forgotten anything else he might have told me. I took one of the pills, but it didn't do anything for the pain and I didn't take any more.
About a week later I couldn't take it any more and went to get a second opinion. I went to Hud's doctor because he had been happy with the results of going to visit him. I hoped to see the same results. When I first came in and described my symptoms, he told me there are 5 different kinds of headaches, and they each have different symptoms. He told me what they all were, and then we both stopped and looked at each other. I didn't fit into any of the categories. He decided to set me up for an MRA at the local hospital.
This sounds weird, but I knew when I was laying there having the MRA that there was something different. I kept telling myself I was just being over dramatic, since that is part of my personality, but I just felt something.
A week past. I remember that when he called and asked me to come in, I thought it was funny that I was going to have to go with my toddler. Baby is so wiggly! I came in to the room and sat across from him and he had that look on his face. Baby was climbing all over the patient table, playing with the stirrups and opening and closing drawers. The doctor said, well, the MRA came back, and there is something there. You have what's called an aneurysm. I knew what that was. My neighbor had gone to the post office one day, about a year earlier, and one minute he was standing in line, and the next he was comatose on the floor. He died later that day, a burst aneurysm he didn't even know he had. And now, a year later, I was being told I had the same thing. It was sitting just behind my left eye. It was small, about 5mm, about the size of a pencil eraser. There was no idea for how long it had been there, or how fast it was growing.
I sat there with a small smile on my face as Baby wiggled around the room and the doctor tried to give me all the information. I responded normally, I didn't cry or get emotional or anything. He asked me if I had any questions, and I figured I didn't, I already knew what this thing was in my head. He told me about the two options, and what would have to happen next. We both stood and shook hands and I gathered Baby and headed out to my car. It was when I got Baby in and started the car that I started shaking. I began to cry as I pulled out of the parking lot. There was a prayer in my head, and it came out of my mouth as I turned right and towards my parents' home instead of left and towards my own. Hud was at work in the city, I knew I couldn't reach him and he couldn't come to me, so as I drove, prayed and cried, I headed to my father, knowing he would be there. My prayer was simple as I went, "Father in Heaven, thy will be done. I have these babies, I have this husband, if it's thy will I would like to stay with them. If it is not, help me bear this well, help me to please thee in the process, and please, give me the strength to keep my faith in thee." I called my dad and asked him if he would give me a blessing when I got there. He called my brother and we met there where they laid their hands on me, and by the power of the priesthood, they blessed me. My shivering stopped and my tears went away and I felt peace. We hugged and laughed and talked for a minute and then I headed back home. Hud had gotten my messages by then and called me on the way, and we met together at home. I won't talk about that moment, that's for us, but it was sweet, and it was good. We went out for lunch together and laughed and planned for what would and might come. Tomorrow We'll talk about angiograms and CT scans.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Scaling the Cliffs of Perfectionism
I am beginning to hate the scale. It is a roller coaster ride. One day it looks like the synthroid is kicking in and I'm finally going to be thinning down again, and the next it's right back up there. Bummer. The dumbest part? Well, we're not talking 10 or 20 pounds to make me stressed. We're talking 2. Or 3. I know. Dumb. Dumb dumb dumb. When I sit back and think it through logically, I'm letting 2 pounds determine my emotional state for the day! That's just nuts. I am far too old to still be crying over putting on a pound. I wish. It would be nice not to tie my emotional well being to the size of my hips! :) Oh, and it gets better. I was reading a website devoted to hypothyroidism and they were saying that people with this disease have to work out an hour to an hour and a half A DAY just to MAINTAIN their weight. This was new and depressing to me. I don't have an hour a day to go out for a run or spin on the bike. I have four kids! Besides, that would be to keep where I am now! What? Do I have to do 2 to slim down? See, depressing. The best part is, tomorrow I will be on that ridiculous scale and it will be down 2 or 3 pounds and I will feel like I'm on top of the world. Dumb.
I think really it's because it's raining outside. And it's taper week, so I'm not on the road or on the bike, and I'm adding a little more carbs to the diet. Not crazy more, just a little here and there to store for the race. If I were incredibly smart, maybe I wouldn't taper or carb up and then I could come home from the race 5 pounds thinner! Course, I'd also probably come in 10 minutes slower and slogging through a major "bonk". Ah, the struggle between weight and time! Hahahahaha.
Okay, so this is a more shallow entry. Well, sort of. What it really boils down to is that here I am on the not so far side of 40 and I haven't learned yet that it's not the body that matters, it's the mind and the heart. The time and effort I daily put in to worrying about the physical me could so much more effectively be poured into the vessel of faith and good works to the Lord. I could be developing the spirit, making it stronger and more beautiful, but I am stuck in this "natural" state, constantly being diverted to shrinking size and weight, at the expense of the spirit. It's another one of those "getting it right" things. Paul had a "thorn" that he never was able to overcome. I wonder sometimes if this is mine. Not to say that it would be my ONLY shortcoming....please, I know myself better than that. But I think this is a life long struggle for me. Something that keeps me constantly humble, and could make me stronger in the struggle to overcome. One day, if I am faithful enough, I will come to see that I am beautiful. Beautiful because I have stopped worrying about me, and have turned my eyes to my brother. I will come to see that I am strong, because I have learned to lift up my arms and lift others, lift my arms and praise God and His Son. If I spend a little more time every day learning to overcome, one day I will be the me I am always dreaming to be, I will be made perfect in Christ. Then hopefully I can hear those most sought after words, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant."
I think really it's because it's raining outside. And it's taper week, so I'm not on the road or on the bike, and I'm adding a little more carbs to the diet. Not crazy more, just a little here and there to store for the race. If I were incredibly smart, maybe I wouldn't taper or carb up and then I could come home from the race 5 pounds thinner! Course, I'd also probably come in 10 minutes slower and slogging through a major "bonk". Ah, the struggle between weight and time! Hahahahaha.
Okay, so this is a more shallow entry. Well, sort of. What it really boils down to is that here I am on the not so far side of 40 and I haven't learned yet that it's not the body that matters, it's the mind and the heart. The time and effort I daily put in to worrying about the physical me could so much more effectively be poured into the vessel of faith and good works to the Lord. I could be developing the spirit, making it stronger and more beautiful, but I am stuck in this "natural" state, constantly being diverted to shrinking size and weight, at the expense of the spirit. It's another one of those "getting it right" things. Paul had a "thorn" that he never was able to overcome. I wonder sometimes if this is mine. Not to say that it would be my ONLY shortcoming....please, I know myself better than that. But I think this is a life long struggle for me. Something that keeps me constantly humble, and could make me stronger in the struggle to overcome. One day, if I am faithful enough, I will come to see that I am beautiful. Beautiful because I have stopped worrying about me, and have turned my eyes to my brother. I will come to see that I am strong, because I have learned to lift up my arms and lift others, lift my arms and praise God and His Son. If I spend a little more time every day learning to overcome, one day I will be the me I am always dreaming to be, I will be made perfect in Christ. Then hopefully I can hear those most sought after words, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant."
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Guilt and fear? These two thoughts were going through my head today as I was driving down the road on my way home from Sees. Ah! You think you already know why I was thinking about guilt right? Well, nope, it wasn't about eating chocolate. Not this time anyway. I was watching my spedometer and thinking about speed limits. The fear was almost totally unrelated to anything I was doing, more an outreach to the run I did on the treadmill this morning.
First guilt. The other day Hud just happens to mention in passing that he got a ticket the other day coming home from Wyoming. I was struck by this for a number of reasons. First of all, Hud is perfect, so when something odd like this happens I'm always a little surprised. Second, and more to the point, it was the WAY in which he told me. There were no banners. He didn't gush on facebook about the sorrows that will befall him when he tells his wife about the expense of his going over the limit. Emotion wasn't even a factor. It was like he was mentioning that the sun was up. No biggy. Why was this so amazing to me you ask? Well, let's step back in time about 8 months. I'm driving back from a birthday party with all the kids in the car. We are on a frontage road that I have been on several times. I know that the limit goes from basic 40s to sudden 20s right about the time you start up the hill, right? So I'm tooling along, and as I get close to the hill who comes along, but the city police officer, with his lights flashing. I'm taken back, since I'm not doing anything wrong, but I dutifully pull over to the side and get my licence and registration ready. Hud had read me an article stating that if you have these things when the officer comes to the window, you admit your fault, and you smile, they're less likely to give you a ticket. So here I am all ready to go. Except for the one step. I didn't have a clue what I had done wrong. To my surprise it turns out I was speeding! I did not know I was speeding. I thought I had some time before the speed decreased. Well, I was wrong, by about 15 over the limit. OUCH! He reduced my fine to 10, because I guess I looked like I really didn't know I had done wrong. I wasn't too worried about it, I hadn't had any tickets in about 15 years, and I remembered my dad saying something about tickets under 20 were only about $50.00. That's spendy, but doable. Well, when I got home and went online to check, turns out that particular city had doubled all their fines!!!! I was in a panic all the rest of the day. How was I going to tell Hud that I had to pay $100 for speeding?!?!?! I felt terrible. When Hud came home I tearfully explained the whole story and apologized profusely for the error I had made. Ever since that day, I have made a very intense effort not to go over the limit no matter where I am. I don't want to have to tell Hud about the cost again. It was so awful! So fast forward again. He didn't even blink. Why is that? Is it because he's the one bringing home the money so he doesn't mind when he has to shell some out? I don't know. All I know is that this is one of those things that I felt profound guilt over. My children saw me breaking the law, and they saw me get caught. This really got to me, and I have tried my best to do better about it ever since. As I drove along the freeway today I thought about that. I might not have learned how to overcome feelings of guilt, but I think I have gotten something right. I don't speed anymore, I would hate to have someone else see me do that particular thing wrong again!
Now fear. This one is a bugger for me. Ya know, when I was younger I wasn't afraid of much. I was a very spontaneous person really. Wanna go down to Goblin Valley for the weekend? Sure! Feel like an evening of bungie jumping? Why not? Feel like going for a run up the canyon? Who cares if no one else is available, I see ya when I get back. Well. I don't know when it all happened, and I don't really know how, but that's all gone now. If I can't plan it out and know and be prepared for all possible eventualities I don't want to do it. If I might have to go alone I probably won't go. If my kids would have to be there without me I don't think they'll be there at all. It's starting to bug me a little. I'm afraid of some ethereal "something" that might happen. Where did this come from?!? It bugs me. The reason I was thinking about this grew out of my choosing not to go out with the running group this morning. I ended up running on the treadmill in my basement instead. Backing up, again. I have been running with my Sister in Law (we'll call her Sil) for the last couple years. We are a good team. We are about the same pace, we're both very patient, we both want to run enough not to go offending the other over silly things. Well, Sil went to play a pick up game of soccer a couple weeks ago and tore her ACL in half! :( I felt terrible for her! I still do. And not to make this all about me and not about her, but it really changed my training program. That sounds really selfish after announcing something life changing like her injury is. But it's so. I find now that I was totally dependent on her being there in order for me to be able to run. If she wasn't able to run on a day I never went out by myself, I just went down to the basement and did a treadmill workout instead, wishing she had been able to come. When she found out she was going to be out for the summer I was completely lost! I tried going out once alone, but I was frightened the whole time and ran too fast, and jumped at just about every sound. Dogs, cars, people passing or coming up behind me. To be honest the run was really nice, but when the next day came and I had to go out alone again I couldn't make myself go.
There is a group of ladies in the neighborhood, "the speedies" let's call them. They've been going out together to run at 5 in the morning for over 10 years now. I have always wished I could go out with them, but I have always known that I wasn't fast enough to keep up. When Sil got hurt and this fear got strong enough I decided to go run with them. I've tried it several times. Guess what ends up happening? That's right, I end up RUNNING BY MYSELF in the dark of the fore-morning. They're all so fast they leave me behind before we get through the first mile! The first time I went out with them some of them circled around a couple times to catch me and keep me company. But I think they were hoping I would suddenly find myself running a minute faster a mile and be able to keep up, which never happened. Now if I'm too afraid to go running by myself in the sunshine when people are alive and around, why would I not be scared to death to run in the dark of the predawn? Yeah. So when the alarm went off this morning telling me to go out with "the speedies" I said no. I went back to bed, and when the kids were off to school I got on the treadmill in the basement again. Sad day.
This has to stop. I don't know how, but somehow I need to reclaim the part of me that was unafraid. I want the freedom of being able to run in the sunshine and run alone. People do it all around me every day. This is a very safe community. There is no reason to be so scared. How do I reclaim that part of me? How do I step out and feel that freedom? I don't know, but I know I've got to get it right one of these days. It isn't right to live in fear. God doesn't want us to be afraid, and He teaches that there is no faith where there is fear. So I have to learn to overcome this. I need to grow my faith in Him in this thing. I need to take the first steps, some day, and go out into the sun with faith, believing that I will come home again, safe, and healthy and happy. So when do I do this? I don't know. I'm afraid to start. :)
First guilt. The other day Hud just happens to mention in passing that he got a ticket the other day coming home from Wyoming. I was struck by this for a number of reasons. First of all, Hud is perfect, so when something odd like this happens I'm always a little surprised. Second, and more to the point, it was the WAY in which he told me. There were no banners. He didn't gush on facebook about the sorrows that will befall him when he tells his wife about the expense of his going over the limit. Emotion wasn't even a factor. It was like he was mentioning that the sun was up. No biggy. Why was this so amazing to me you ask? Well, let's step back in time about 8 months. I'm driving back from a birthday party with all the kids in the car. We are on a frontage road that I have been on several times. I know that the limit goes from basic 40s to sudden 20s right about the time you start up the hill, right? So I'm tooling along, and as I get close to the hill who comes along, but the city police officer, with his lights flashing. I'm taken back, since I'm not doing anything wrong, but I dutifully pull over to the side and get my licence and registration ready. Hud had read me an article stating that if you have these things when the officer comes to the window, you admit your fault, and you smile, they're less likely to give you a ticket. So here I am all ready to go. Except for the one step. I didn't have a clue what I had done wrong. To my surprise it turns out I was speeding! I did not know I was speeding. I thought I had some time before the speed decreased. Well, I was wrong, by about 15 over the limit. OUCH! He reduced my fine to 10, because I guess I looked like I really didn't know I had done wrong. I wasn't too worried about it, I hadn't had any tickets in about 15 years, and I remembered my dad saying something about tickets under 20 were only about $50.00. That's spendy, but doable. Well, when I got home and went online to check, turns out that particular city had doubled all their fines!!!! I was in a panic all the rest of the day. How was I going to tell Hud that I had to pay $100 for speeding?!?!?! I felt terrible. When Hud came home I tearfully explained the whole story and apologized profusely for the error I had made. Ever since that day, I have made a very intense effort not to go over the limit no matter where I am. I don't want to have to tell Hud about the cost again. It was so awful! So fast forward again. He didn't even blink. Why is that? Is it because he's the one bringing home the money so he doesn't mind when he has to shell some out? I don't know. All I know is that this is one of those things that I felt profound guilt over. My children saw me breaking the law, and they saw me get caught. This really got to me, and I have tried my best to do better about it ever since. As I drove along the freeway today I thought about that. I might not have learned how to overcome feelings of guilt, but I think I have gotten something right. I don't speed anymore, I would hate to have someone else see me do that particular thing wrong again!
Now fear. This one is a bugger for me. Ya know, when I was younger I wasn't afraid of much. I was a very spontaneous person really. Wanna go down to Goblin Valley for the weekend? Sure! Feel like an evening of bungie jumping? Why not? Feel like going for a run up the canyon? Who cares if no one else is available, I see ya when I get back. Well. I don't know when it all happened, and I don't really know how, but that's all gone now. If I can't plan it out and know and be prepared for all possible eventualities I don't want to do it. If I might have to go alone I probably won't go. If my kids would have to be there without me I don't think they'll be there at all. It's starting to bug me a little. I'm afraid of some ethereal "something" that might happen. Where did this come from?!? It bugs me. The reason I was thinking about this grew out of my choosing not to go out with the running group this morning. I ended up running on the treadmill in my basement instead. Backing up, again. I have been running with my Sister in Law (we'll call her Sil) for the last couple years. We are a good team. We are about the same pace, we're both very patient, we both want to run enough not to go offending the other over silly things. Well, Sil went to play a pick up game of soccer a couple weeks ago and tore her ACL in half! :( I felt terrible for her! I still do. And not to make this all about me and not about her, but it really changed my training program. That sounds really selfish after announcing something life changing like her injury is. But it's so. I find now that I was totally dependent on her being there in order for me to be able to run. If she wasn't able to run on a day I never went out by myself, I just went down to the basement and did a treadmill workout instead, wishing she had been able to come. When she found out she was going to be out for the summer I was completely lost! I tried going out once alone, but I was frightened the whole time and ran too fast, and jumped at just about every sound. Dogs, cars, people passing or coming up behind me. To be honest the run was really nice, but when the next day came and I had to go out alone again I couldn't make myself go.
There is a group of ladies in the neighborhood, "the speedies" let's call them. They've been going out together to run at 5 in the morning for over 10 years now. I have always wished I could go out with them, but I have always known that I wasn't fast enough to keep up. When Sil got hurt and this fear got strong enough I decided to go run with them. I've tried it several times. Guess what ends up happening? That's right, I end up RUNNING BY MYSELF in the dark of the fore-morning. They're all so fast they leave me behind before we get through the first mile! The first time I went out with them some of them circled around a couple times to catch me and keep me company. But I think they were hoping I would suddenly find myself running a minute faster a mile and be able to keep up, which never happened. Now if I'm too afraid to go running by myself in the sunshine when people are alive and around, why would I not be scared to death to run in the dark of the predawn? Yeah. So when the alarm went off this morning telling me to go out with "the speedies" I said no. I went back to bed, and when the kids were off to school I got on the treadmill in the basement again. Sad day.
This has to stop. I don't know how, but somehow I need to reclaim the part of me that was unafraid. I want the freedom of being able to run in the sunshine and run alone. People do it all around me every day. This is a very safe community. There is no reason to be so scared. How do I reclaim that part of me? How do I step out and feel that freedom? I don't know, but I know I've got to get it right one of these days. It isn't right to live in fear. God doesn't want us to be afraid, and He teaches that there is no faith where there is fear. So I have to learn to overcome this. I need to grow my faith in Him in this thing. I need to take the first steps, some day, and go out into the sun with faith, believing that I will come home again, safe, and healthy and happy. So when do I do this? I don't know. I'm afraid to start. :)
Friday, April 30, 2010
A Preface to Momponderings
I'm writing a blog. Something in me thinks this is a little lame. BUT--maybe there is someone out there who will be wandering along, not feeling like they're getting things right, and they'll come across this and say, "Hey! I guess I'm not alone after all!" They won't actually stick around long, but they'll walk away feeling a little less blue, a little more at peace, and perhaps have something in their heads they didn't have before that helps them get a little closer to getting it right.
So who am I? Boy is that a loaded question. I'm a mom. 4 kids, 2 boys 2 girls. Sweetest sweets on the planet to me. I'm a Mormon. Whoa, did you see all those people click away?!? Too bad, they're missing out on a lot of stuff that could help them get things right. I'm married to my sweetheart. He's not perfect either, but he's far closer than I am. Let's call me Wooja. We can call DH Hud for fun. I have a Squash, Prancer, Flips, and Baby. There, I avoided names very well I think.
What got me to this point, wanting to blog? I saw a news story one night about a woman who was blogging about being a mom and a woman. She was very proud of her articles, they were all about being "in your face" and "on the edge". I felt bad for her. She knew she wasn't getting things right so she was pushing the guilt back. I thought to myself, if I did a blog I would talk about how great it is to be a mom today. How wonderful it is to stay at home and care for these up and coming adults. I would talk about how wonderful it is to be married, forever, to the same man. I would probably talk a lot about how important God is in this world, whether people want to admit it or not. I would talk about Heavenly Father probably every day, how he has encouraged me and boosted me up. I would talk about Christ. Christ has been the rock and the loadstone of my life. I would talk about how His incredible example has taken me from the brink of failure, from the brink of death. He has carried me through some interesting times, and I rely on Him to help me finally get it right.
When I was 12 I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I've been sort of dealing with this my whole life. Just this week I put two and two together and realized this illness has been the root of all the years of weight struggle I've gone through. Now don't wander away bored. It's been an exciting struggle! I went on a mission when I was 21, across to the other side of the world. I was there not so very long when the stress and the worry and some underground issues gathered around me. I began remembering a time when I was small and had been taken advantage of. I talked with my parents, who affirmed what I was remembering. They had done their best at the time, and thought it was all over and done with. I coped as I could. I wanted to do what was right and tried to loose myself in the work. I was trying so hard to be the perfect missionary. I wanted to be successful for the Lord's sake. Instead there were things I guess I really had to deal with. I found myself back home and in a women's clinic in no time at all, dealing with an eating disorder!!! I fought bulimia and anorexia for the next 1o years. I just couldn't get it right for so long! I was fighting my body, I was fighting intimacy issues, I was fighting my failure in the one thing I had always wanted to accomplish. It took a long time to realize I was still a daugther of God. Over time I began to see there was beauty in me I was missing. I began to realize that loosing the mission didn't me I had failed my life. I started to like me a little more and a little more. One day I went running with a friend, and running started to become part of me.
So what do we have so far? Mom, married, mormon, hypothyroidism, abuse, anorexia, bulemia, shortened mission, running, overcoming.
Now it's been such a long time later. Almost 10 years since getting over the fights with food. The body image is still an issue some days, but I'm spending less time crying over it and more time trying to get every day a little bit more right. Last summer I went to a personal trainer in hopes of getting the body right. :) He did a great job teaching me how to eat healthy and exercise to be strong. I spent a lot of time running for fun with a great running partner. I was studying the scriptures and had started to find a particular love in books about gospel principles. I could see myself getting it right!!! And then the Lord showed me that I could learn Oh, Soooo much more if I had a little "personal tutoring session", as Neal A Maxwell puts it. So Hud's father passed away. That was tough. A subject for another day. And then HE added a headache. I figured it was because summer was almost over and I needed the kids to go back to school. But can one headache really last 3 months? So I went to my doctor. He sent me for an MRA. And then I started another "personal tutoring session". I had an aneurysm in my brain. I'm not even kidding you! This also is a subject for another day.
Today I still sort of run. I still sort of lift weights and I try to eat right. The metabolism is trying to stay on vacation. :) But I went to the doctor and he showed me that all the weight issues were part of the hypothyroidism. So I can get a little closer to getting some things right, right now. It's really not my fault, some of this body shape and size! I can do all the running, lift all the weights I want, but if the body needs medicine, it just won't. So I turn that over to the Lord, and have faith in Him that He will make things the way that will be right for me. That is a load off!
Is this a crazy blog or what? It's a mess. I don't know how to blog, can you tell? But that how I'm starting this thing. You need to have a base idea of who's talking to you if you're going to get anything I say going forward right? So the final lowdown? Hypothyroidism, abuse, mission, (BYU should be in here somewhere), running, overcoming, sweet hubby, four angels, deaths in the family, aneurysm and recovery. I think we're up to date now. I'm a real interesting person ya think? Maybe in the summaries at least! :) More on another day.
Wooja
So who am I? Boy is that a loaded question. I'm a mom. 4 kids, 2 boys 2 girls. Sweetest sweets on the planet to me. I'm a Mormon. Whoa, did you see all those people click away?!? Too bad, they're missing out on a lot of stuff that could help them get things right. I'm married to my sweetheart. He's not perfect either, but he's far closer than I am. Let's call me Wooja. We can call DH Hud for fun. I have a Squash, Prancer, Flips, and Baby. There, I avoided names very well I think.
What got me to this point, wanting to blog? I saw a news story one night about a woman who was blogging about being a mom and a woman. She was very proud of her articles, they were all about being "in your face" and "on the edge". I felt bad for her. She knew she wasn't getting things right so she was pushing the guilt back. I thought to myself, if I did a blog I would talk about how great it is to be a mom today. How wonderful it is to stay at home and care for these up and coming adults. I would talk about how wonderful it is to be married, forever, to the same man. I would probably talk a lot about how important God is in this world, whether people want to admit it or not. I would talk about Heavenly Father probably every day, how he has encouraged me and boosted me up. I would talk about Christ. Christ has been the rock and the loadstone of my life. I would talk about how His incredible example has taken me from the brink of failure, from the brink of death. He has carried me through some interesting times, and I rely on Him to help me finally get it right.
When I was 12 I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I've been sort of dealing with this my whole life. Just this week I put two and two together and realized this illness has been the root of all the years of weight struggle I've gone through. Now don't wander away bored. It's been an exciting struggle! I went on a mission when I was 21, across to the other side of the world. I was there not so very long when the stress and the worry and some underground issues gathered around me. I began remembering a time when I was small and had been taken advantage of. I talked with my parents, who affirmed what I was remembering. They had done their best at the time, and thought it was all over and done with. I coped as I could. I wanted to do what was right and tried to loose myself in the work. I was trying so hard to be the perfect missionary. I wanted to be successful for the Lord's sake. Instead there were things I guess I really had to deal with. I found myself back home and in a women's clinic in no time at all, dealing with an eating disorder!!! I fought bulimia and anorexia for the next 1o years. I just couldn't get it right for so long! I was fighting my body, I was fighting intimacy issues, I was fighting my failure in the one thing I had always wanted to accomplish. It took a long time to realize I was still a daugther of God. Over time I began to see there was beauty in me I was missing. I began to realize that loosing the mission didn't me I had failed my life. I started to like me a little more and a little more. One day I went running with a friend, and running started to become part of me.
So what do we have so far? Mom, married, mormon, hypothyroidism, abuse, anorexia, bulemia, shortened mission, running, overcoming.
Now it's been such a long time later. Almost 10 years since getting over the fights with food. The body image is still an issue some days, but I'm spending less time crying over it and more time trying to get every day a little bit more right. Last summer I went to a personal trainer in hopes of getting the body right. :) He did a great job teaching me how to eat healthy and exercise to be strong. I spent a lot of time running for fun with a great running partner. I was studying the scriptures and had started to find a particular love in books about gospel principles. I could see myself getting it right!!! And then the Lord showed me that I could learn Oh, Soooo much more if I had a little "personal tutoring session", as Neal A Maxwell puts it. So Hud's father passed away. That was tough. A subject for another day. And then HE added a headache. I figured it was because summer was almost over and I needed the kids to go back to school. But can one headache really last 3 months? So I went to my doctor. He sent me for an MRA. And then I started another "personal tutoring session". I had an aneurysm in my brain. I'm not even kidding you! This also is a subject for another day.
Today I still sort of run. I still sort of lift weights and I try to eat right. The metabolism is trying to stay on vacation. :) But I went to the doctor and he showed me that all the weight issues were part of the hypothyroidism. So I can get a little closer to getting some things right, right now. It's really not my fault, some of this body shape and size! I can do all the running, lift all the weights I want, but if the body needs medicine, it just won't. So I turn that over to the Lord, and have faith in Him that He will make things the way that will be right for me. That is a load off!
Is this a crazy blog or what? It's a mess. I don't know how to blog, can you tell? But that how I'm starting this thing. You need to have a base idea of who's talking to you if you're going to get anything I say going forward right? So the final lowdown? Hypothyroidism, abuse, mission, (BYU should be in here somewhere), running, overcoming, sweet hubby, four angels, deaths in the family, aneurysm and recovery. I think we're up to date now. I'm a real interesting person ya think? Maybe in the summaries at least! :) More on another day.
Wooja
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