You know it's going to be a rough day when...

...you wake up at three in the morning, with pain shooting from your hip down to your toes, and can't go back to sleep. Good to know the sciatic nerve is working, but enough already.

It was noted, on yesterday's post, that I spent as much time being snarky as I did writing about my grilled cheese sandwich. Is there a correlation? As a matter of fact, there is. Good catch, Jonsi, because I was running the avoidance pattern.

I've written about me and food before. You can click on the weight loss label and read the other posts, if you're so inclined, but here I'm going to focus on this week. I eat to stuff emotions and shut my brain off. I don't eat if I'm this side of feeling panicky. I've been processing a lot of anger as I recognize and acknowledge the vast array of lies with which I grew up. I grumbled about the attitude toward the military, which was only the tip of the iceberg. I'm appalled at all the prejudices I grew up with, and most of them had nothing to do with skin color. I didn't notice, until much later, because I was always trying to fit in. What did I have to do to fit in. I've given up... no, I've decided I don't want to fit in with their criteria, because I think it's pretty shallow.

This week as been a week of facing the lies I grew up with about things that mattered in the family but, in truth, don't really matter at all. I stifled so many opportunities and potential friendships because they didn't fit the "criteria" I was taught as acceptable and desirable. I look back now and wonder how in the world I managed to grow up at all, especially without doing anything incredibly stupid. I'm sure I have guardian angels who are going to have words with me at some later date.

With a major event happening in the family, it's been safest for me to be as scarce as possible. When someone is feeling out of control, I seem to be the easy target for regaining that control. I skipped a few meals to stay out of the way. Not the first time and won't be the last. And may God help me if anyone tries to fix this. Trust me, from experience, it will only become uglier for me. Then again, that might egg on a few "helpful" individuals.

The grilled cheese sandwich was a reminder to myself. I love to cook. I was defiant and decided to cook even though I wasn't home alone. Pathetic, I know. I was very quiet. And using the jam was so out of the ordinary. It felt like I was breaking the rules. Wow, that sounds even more pathetic. Writing about it was an exercise for myself. It allowed me to be in the moment, a peaceful, perfect moment.

I'm in the middle of a personal project that could change everything or change nothing. And it's out of my hands, for the time being, and in the hands of those helping me. By focusing on something that turned out perfectly right, I didn't have to think about all the things that could go wrong, on a life-size scale. My close friends know what I'm involved in and are very encouraging, but I have to tread carefully, because there are those who would make my life truly miserable if they knew. I also have another potential plan in the works, but won't come to fruition for at least another month or two. I'm not at liberty to discuss it, which wouldn't keep some helpful soul from prying and trying to explore all the angles, or telling people who have no business knowing. I'm tired of walking on eggshells, but I don't see an end in sight, anytime soon.

My privacy has been violated so often, I frequently don't even notice until I find myself embarrassed by some familiar comment from someone I barely know or don't know at all. I know I'm the subject of lots of gossip and speculation, and yet people wonder why I'm so reserved. And I know that the gossip and speculation is brutally unkind, with only a grain of truth in it, maybe...

Oh, wow. This all comes back to the discussion at several blogs, this week, about defending/standing up for others... Most of the discussion has been focused on protecting/defending/standing up for children and spouses, neither of which fits me, but it has driven home how often I have been maligned and no one says anything, in order to keep the peace... It's easier for everyone to let the lies roll... because they aren't entirely sure if some of what's said isn't true, if not wholly then maybe in part, or from a certain point of view...

My sister has defended me, and is no longer privy to the litany of my flaws.

I'm more peaceful now than I've been all week. It helps to look deeper, but sometimes it takes someone else to ask exactly the right question that turns the key in the lock to open Pandora's Box and allow Hope out. What is my hope? I know I can't change anyone else, but I am endeavoring to change me, let go of past bad habits and develop new, healthy habits, to follow the path God has laid before me, if I'll only hold fast to my faith, and trust Him.