Living on the Periphery

I live on the periphery.  At least, that’s how it feels.

I drive around in my nice car.  I have nice clothes.  I always look “put together”.  My outward demeanor tells you that I can handle anything.  I smile.  I come home to my nice house.  I have nice kids who are straight A students.  I have a nice, yellow lab.  I ride horses.  I travel.  I like to read.  And some days, I think I’m smart.

You assume that I have a lot of friends, go out, and have fun on the weekends.

But you’re not correct.  And you don’t know because you don’t ask me to coffee or invite me out to lunch.  If you and the other girls are going out for a drink, you don’t include me.

Why?  I don’t know and you might not really know either.

I try to participate in conversations.  “Oh, I really like chicken fried steak too!”  And you tell me about the restaurant that has really good chicken fried steak, where you and the other co-worker are going out to lunch today.  But then you turn around to finish discussing what time you’re going out to lunch and don’t invite me.

So I live on the periphery and am left to wonder why.  Left to imagine what I’m doing wrong.  I come home to my nice house, pet my nice dog, and drink my nice cup of coffee.  Alone.  I don’t always mind being alone but I so desperately want to be part of the group, want to be thought of as fun and someone you want to hang out with.

But apparently I’m not.  So I live on the periphery.

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Game On!

I’m on Day 3 of a new get healthy plan.  This one is called “Game On!”.  Its a program which focuses on all aspects of health – diet, sleep, water consumption, exercise, making a new healthy habit and letting go of an old, unhealthy, habit.

Plus, its all done in a friendly competition!

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“Kick your friend’s butt while shrinking your own.”  Ha!  I love that.  The competition goes for 5 weeks.  A friend of mine set it up; she’s done it before.  We have 5 or 6 teams of 4 or 5 people each.  So far, its been great!  Every day, all day, there are a ton of emails that go around offering support, encouragement, tips, what’s working and what’s not.

So far, what’s great about it is that I feel like I have a plan for being healthy every day.  If I need some help or inspiration, there’s about 25 people who are ready and willing to lend a hand.  Plus, there’s the aspect of not wanting to let my team down.

I really need to do something because I weigh more than I ever have before.  I know 138 at 5’4″ isn’t the end of the world but a lot of my clothes are not fitting.  And I just haven’t felt well.  I’m tired a lot; I get out of breath easily.  And that’s not how I want to live.

I know I’m only on Day 3 of 5 weeks but I feel like this just might do the trick!

September 5, 2017

This is like my third attempt at this blog post.  Ugh.

It was going to be about learning to be better to myself.  But it was sounding lame, cliche, and uninteresting.

Its hard to be good to yourself.  I’m not sure why, but it is.  I’m trying.  Today, I sat down at 11:00 and took twenty minutes to eat a lovely peach and some Marin Cheese Co. brie on my back porch.  I love sitting on my back porch, looking out over the vineyard, sipping my coffee.

Twenty minutes just for myself seems so indulgent.  But I’m beginning to understand that its really not.  Just like texting with my friends and posting in my blog is not indulgent.  Neither is taking the dog on a walk or working my horses.

Collapsing at work and having my doctor tell me that I need to follow up with a cardiologist (finally got an appointment) sort of puts things into perspective.  But I’ve been surprised that I’m finding it so hard to be kinder to myself.  I always have wondered about the people who are told, “If you don’t make lifestyle changes, you’re going to die” but fail to change.  And, here I am . . . one of them!!

Its really easy to blame others:  “My husband doesn’t help enough.”;  “My job is too stressful.”;  “I’m so busy with the kids’ activities.”  But, realistically, it comes down to me, myself and I – my choices, my decisions and how I deal with the things life throws at me.

I can talk to my husband about our division of tasks.  I can have my kids help out more and take on more responsibility because they are 12 and 14 years old now.  I can find healthy ways to deal with my job and other stress.  I can take a look at our household schedules and see if it can be managed differently.

And I can stop feeling guilty about 20 minutes on my back porch, drinking good coffee and reading the paper.

 

How to be Different

Apparently, I need some lifestyle changes.  After collapsing at work out of the blue (caused a huge commotion), I went to see my doctor yesterday.  (I refused to go to the ER with the nice paramedics.)  My doctor called me a “textbook case of the healthy person who drops dead from a heart attack.”

Well, hmmmm . . . She was concerned when I looked puzzled at her order to “spend the rest of the day doing something for myself.”  I have plenty of things that I’d really like to do for myself but they never seem to happen.  For example, 3 days ago I picked some fava beans, found a recipe and have been wanting to make soup.  Fava beans are still sitting on my counter and they don’t seem to be making soup themselves.

How is that possible?  How can I not even find time to cook food that I want to??  What the heck do I do all day?  In my opinion, I don’t do much.  But when I tell my girlfriends, “I did this and this and this today . . . nothing!” they’re like, “wow, you did all that?” My doctor says I tend to minimize.

So, o.k., I need to lessen my “constant state of stress and anxiety” (more doctor quotes) and that’s great but HOW??  How do I just start being different?  How do I make space for myself?

I think I’ve asked this question before here in my blog.  Maybe the better question is: How do I not feel guilty about making space for myself?

I mean, we’re not talking about me going on a shopping spree or something.  We’re talking about soup!!!  Healthy soup that the rest of my family could eat.

I did finally announce to my 12 and 14 year old kids that they get to make their own school lunches and unpack their lunch box when they get home this year.  My husband was thrilled at this declaration.  I’m not exactly sure why – he rarely if ever made their lunch; he just seemed to be upset that I made lunches for the kids.  The kids were less than thrilled.  Me?  I felt guilty.

When Your “Happy Place” is also Your “Sad Place”

I love my horses and I love spending time in my barn.  Its where I do my best thinking and, even though I often forget it and neglect to spend enough time there, hanging out with my horses truly makes me happy.

But its complicated.  While my barn is most definitely one of my most happy places, its also a sad place sometimes.

My horse, Stormy, turned 28 on June 13.  I was hanging out in the barn with him and, for some reason, my thoughts turned to my beloved first horse, Tori.  Pretty quickly, I was sitting in my barn, balling my eyes out.  I had to put Tori down on September 3, 1997 – that was a long time ago!!!!  But oftentimes it seems like it was yesterday.  Is it always going to seem like that?

Hanging out with my current horses – Stormy, my retired old guy; Slewy, my gorgeous off-the-track Thoroughbred I can’t seem to ride; and Holly, the kids’ mini – is certainly comforting.  But, sometimes I’m in the barn and I’m just overwhelmed with how much I miss Tori, how he was supposed to still be here with me (I know he’s always “with” me).

Compounding my sadness is the fact that I feel like I’m failing Tori daily by not riding Slewy.  Its as if all the time we spent together and all the skills he taught me is somehow being wasted.  That, though, hasn’t been enough motivation to get me back to riding Slewy.

Because Slewy’s not Tori.  They’re both Thoroughbreds and I put Slewy’s bit on Tori’s bridle, hoping that would help. They have similar personalities – sweet, kind, inquisitive, always in your pocket.

I just know that somehow, in my slightly nutty head, this is getting in the way of riding Slewy again.  And I’m just not sure what to do about it.  Logically, I think I would feel better if I were riding.  But logic doesn’t seem to have much to do with this.  If it were all up to my logic, I would have been riding years ago.

My happy place being my sad place makes it complicated.  And difficult to move forward.

Mired in “Do-Nothing-ness”

I was making progress on a few of my goals.  I was spending time in the barn, practicing Spanish (occasionally), walking the dog, feeling healthy, and, in general, just getting things done.

Yet once again, it has all come to a screeching halt.  It started with end of the school year activities, my son graduating from 8th grade, etc.  Then I got sick and was down and out for about 10 days.  Since then, I haven’t been able to get back on track.

I’m frustrated and upset about it.  But mostly, I’m just tired.  And not quite sure what to do.

Last week I took my son to the doctor for his summer camp physical.  I hopped on the scale . . . and was dismayed to find that I’m the heaviest I’ve been in a long time.  136.5 at 5′ 4″.  Ugh.

I haven’t been walking my dog so he has a ton of energy and is up all night roaming the house, which is keeping me awake at night.  So . . . not sleeping well.  Plus, we’ve gotten in this pattern of not going to bed until midnight or so and then sleeping in.  Also, not good.

I came up with the idea that I would be back on my horse by September 3.  That’s the 20 year anniversary of my first horse’s death (thoughts of Tori still brings me to tears, nearly 20 years later).  I lunged Slewy exactly twice and that was going on three weeks ago not.  So much for good intentions.

One of my new excuses is that its harder with the kids being out of school.  I don’t have a few hours to myself every afternoon.  And I’m a person who desperately needs a few hours alone most days.  But with the kids not in school, 1) they’re always around so there’s no down time for thinking, writing here in my blog or my journal, or much else of my own and 2) I do things with them (which I love and am not complaining about) – we go to the pool, go shopping, or who knows what.  So, again, very little time to myself.  Right now, this afternoon, I think is the first time since June 1 that I’ve had any time home alone.  And I’m spending it writing and playing Hay Day rather than really accomplishing anything.  But I’m so, so tired.  I feel like I just need to sit for awhile.

O.k., so no answers really.  Just complaints.  Often writing helps me to sort things out in my head so maybe this is a way to start again.  I don’t know.  I’m tired of “starting again.”

When Your Passion, well . . . Isn’t.

I’ve ridden horses since I was 9 years old.  My parents finally gave into riding lessons by assuring themselves that my love of horses was a “phase” that would soon be cured by a few lessons.  After all, we did live in suburban Los Angeles – I was a city girl.

So much for the “phase” theory.  The main requirement when my husband and I were shopping for our first house was that it the property be flat enough for a barn and riding arena.  I now have a lovely little barn, an arena and three horses.

Despite that, I haven’t ridden in over a year.  I haven’t consistently ridden in probably 10 years.  My daughter rides and yesterday we tried out a new barn for her to take lessons at.  Watching her ride made me almost want to climb aboard my off-the-track Thoroughbred again.  Almost.  Maybe.

I expressed that thought to a friend of mine who replied something along the lines of “well, I know its always been a passion of yours.”  And that got me to thinking . . . has it been?  Was it?  Is it still?

Horses are definitely part of my identity as far as most people who know me are concerned.  But the fact that I ride and own horses is certainly not the first thing I’d tell you about myself.  I enjoy my time in the barn, which now mainly consists of feeding the horses, turning them out, cleaning stalls, brushing them, etc.  My best thinking is done in the barn.  No matter what’s going on, time in barn is pretty much guaranteed to improve my mood.

Can I even say that I “ride”? Or do I need to move that to past tense . . . “I rode.”?

I constantly berate myself for not riding my horse.  He’s likely the nicest horse I’ve ever owned or will ever own.  I constantly tell myself that it is therefore ridiculous that I don’t ride him.  For awhile I was just flat out afraid of him but that’s a story for another day.  And our relationship on the ground is definitely on the upswing lately.

But back to the “passion” issue.  I tend to think that if riding truly was my passion, I’d be finding a way to do it.  I’d be finding a way to make time for it even with all my mom, wife, attorney, etc. responsibilities.  So I’m wondering . . . is it really my  “passion” anymore?  It was when I was 9 certainly – but not any more so than any other horse-crazy, 9 year old, little girl.

Is the fact that I haven’t gotten back on my horse evidence enough that I’m ready to give it up?  And if so, how do I let go of that part of myself?  How do I tell my first serious riding instructor (who I still am friends with), “you know, I don’t think I’m going to ride anymore.”??  She’s also on the “but its your ‘passion'” bandwagon.  My Mom believes the same, “oh but you’re so, so good with horses.”  Ummm . . . yeah, Mom, not so much.  My last two horses destroyed my confidence and I’m just plain scared of my current one half the time.

I feel like “I’m not going to ride anymore” is an extremely radical statement.  Maybe I need to get back on my horse and ride a bit first.  Maybe that will help sway me one direction or the other.  Maybe I need to stop making such a big deal out of this.

In the meantime, I enjoyed watching my daughter ride yesterday.  It made me almost want to ride myself.  Almost.  Maybe.