We're still not home yet. Phil was surprised, and not pleasantly so, when I confessed yesterday that I'm in no special hurry to be home--I've been gone so long, it doesn't seem to matter how long the 'end' lasts.
Phil's triceps tendon is under the surgeon's knife as I type this, and his patienthood and upcoming reduction in activity have been the main focus of attention.
However, I--or we-- meet with my therapist tomorrow, and my patienthood, which has been comfortably stealth for at least the past couple of weeks, is about to receive some scrutiny again.
Darn it!
End without end--wasn't I gone all that time in order to get over all this?
Why am I so triggered by long and perseverating jokes about weight/weight gain/weight loss, directed at someone else--this isn't all about me, do I know?
Why do I get so upset when it's mealtime and someone else doesn't want to eat yet: what would be so bad about eating alone?
Why, after a seven-mile hike, do I focus on convenience and my post-exertion lack of appetite to the point of being affected the next day by yesterday's deficit?
Of course, none of these scenarios were covered in treatment. Of course, right up until we flew into Anchorage Saturday night, most meals were communal (at the residency and at the farm) and happily so. This aspect of 'the end' wasn't covered in the manual.
A more important 'of course': all this seems to me to be normal operating conditions. Getting out of treatment is not the end, I still roll the way I roll; but now I have better mechanisms in place to correct for foibles, behave more graciously, maintain my physical presence. My bottle of coconut cream/soymilk mixture is good insurance, although I'm going to have to phase out the soy; and when we hit a meal, I don't just eat lettuce and spirulina anymore. I'm no longer convinced that I can run on 300 calories a day with a maximum of 800. That whole concept seems such a long way away.
End without end, and the ends are tied together--but perhaps there's something of an upward spiral in there.
WOW! Such major steps you've taken after this journey this summer. I can't impress upon you enough. And while you may still have uncovering to do, the questioning you did above are fine if not asked with venom or anger or frustration. Ha! good of me to talk about it. But I hope you are being gentle with yourself. My gosh, woman, you have made leaps!
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DeleteThanks, Meredith--what validation! I do feel some cheer comparing now with the last time I came out of treatment. Much better this time!
What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from. T. S. Eliot and my staff, I lean on it, and yes, living with the ending takes a long long time and yet the now is still always there and needs all attention... ahhh....
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DeleteKay, yes! And even back to Parmenides, 600BC: "It doesn't matter where I start from: I get back to there again later."
We've been on quite a journey since the last time I checked your blog. Sorry I hadn't read it while away on vacation. I kept computer stuff to a minimum, as you could tell on my blog (I didn't blog the entire time I was gone). Sounds like you are making progress, although you don't seem to feel like you've totally recovered. Just keep making baby steps. I'm still here for you.
ReplyDeleteOh, and I hope Phil's arm is better now, too.
Thanks, Shannonmarie! Good to read you. I hope you had a wonderful vacation. I didn't blog for the first five weeks in treatment either. Sometimes it's good to take a hiatus, although finding the position to start from again is odd.
DeleteWe'll talk more!
love
Ela