A Knock at the Door

I had a young lady from AT&T knock on my door.  She was going to talk about my service and possibly update it.  Before she got to that she noticed one of my cats outside running to the neighbor's house.  Then we had one of those "God" conversations.

She told me when she was about four or five years old she was attacked on the face by a cat.  She was all scratched up, bleeding, the works.  Since then she's had panic attacks every time a cat rubs up against her or touches her.

She said one time she was in her car and a friend's cat was sitting outside of her car door.  She had to call her friends to come and move the cat because she was so afraid.  I said to her, "That sounds like PTSD."  She didn't know what that stood for.  Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  YES, she said.  That's it.

I told her about a therapy program at Alexian Brothers in Hoffman Estates.  It's called Exposure Therapy and it's part of the Anxiety program.  It's about exposing someone to the fear slowly and teaching them how to manage the fear or panic they feel.  It's like telling yourself you're not 4-5 years old anymore even though that's how you feel in the moment.  They teach you how to retrain your thoughts and feelings so that you're no longer a prisoner to that incident that happened so long ago.

I shared with her some of the trauma I've been working on and how important it's been to not give so much power to the memories, the dreams or the flashbacks of the abuse.  I'm learning to bring those negative and hurtful body memories into the present, reminding myself that I am in complete control of who touches me.  I'm stronger, bigger and I have a voice.  I have more tools in my toolbox that I can use when those flashbacks and body memories surface.  I also have a close relationship with Jesus so I can ask Him for help.

We had a nice talk.  She asked again what hospital it was at.  I told her and then wished her well.

God has been using me a lot lately to speak encouragement and direct people on where to get help.  Talking to people about their issues, specifically, and divulging mine is very comfortable.  Maybe He's getting me ready to be transparent with the publication of the book.

Then again, maybe He's showing me I still have a purpose.

Junk Food - Higher Tax

I had an interesting conversation with my niece who is a freshman in high school.  She is preparing to argue that junk food should not have a higher tax than other foods.  Her objective is to persuade her classmates that taxing junk food will not reduce the number of people in the United States who are obese.

Her teacher admitted she has a tough argument to make.  My niece went to the library and checked out two books.  One was filled with arguments for and against the taxation.  The other was filled with statistics, charts and graphs backing up those arguments.  She was having difficulty making sense of how to defend not having a tax on junk food, thinking the tax would act as a deterrent.

Enter Aunt Amy.

As a woman who has been in recovery for decades for all sorts of addictions, I was able to help her by giving personal examples from my own experience with obesity.  I told her how I gained fifty pounds between sixth and eighth grade because of the stress at home.  She was surprised to hear about it.

Aside from my personal story, I gave her these to think about:

1. Ask your class to raise their hand if they eat chocolate.  Ask your class to raise their hand if they eat chips.  Ask your class to raise their hand if they drink sugary sodas.  Tell them at their age that's what they're usually doing and it's not abnormal.  Many of them are still growing, are in sports so they're active and they go to parties with their friends.  How would they feel if they were taxed on junk food that doesn't effect them yet?  
2. Obesity isn't always caused by junk food.  Consider all the carbs available to us.  Bread being the most eaten.  
3. Do you know why most poor people are obese?  Fast food is usually cheaper than healthy foods. (My niece said)
4. What about food pantries?  They are well meaning but filled with carbs including lots of breads and desserts.  Sometimes there are no limits for either.  Fruits and vegetables are scarce.  (My niece observed after serving at a local food pantry)
5. Putting a higher tax on junk food is like increasing the tax on cigarettes.  People who have a food addiction (where they eat instead of feeling their feelings) will pay the tax.  People who smoke will find a way to keep getting their cigarettes.  
6. The higher tax does not have the person's well being in mind.  If it did, the tax would go toward a treatment program and not into the state's budget.
7. Not everyone with obesity has high blood pressure, diabetes, high cholesterol or other ailments.
8. Taxing junk food will punish people who are healthy and enjoy a little something extra to eat here and there.
9. How will the tax be determined?  Will it be by the type of junk food?  And how will junk food be defined?  Who will be making those decisions?  
10. Taxing junk food might sound good at first as the answer to America's obesity problem but let's be real.  People are going to eat whatever they want to eat.  Give them better choices and better comparisons.  Bring down the price of produce.  Make it more economical to buy bottled water rather than bottled soda.  Change the economics and I bet obesity will decrease without an added tax. 

Even though this is a fictional topic, it caused me to look at myself.  I still have eighty pounds to lose.  I told my niece if she wanted to interview me as an obese person, I'd be happy to help her in any way I can.  

In the end, she thanked me for the help.  She said she was really stuck and I totally opened her eyes to see how she can defend her argument.

God wants us to build into the next generation.  I love my nephews and nieces.  Whenever I can, I support them in extracurricular activities, one on one lunches, these type of conversations and whatever else He puts in front of me.

No matter what state of mind I'm in or what I'm struggling with, God gives me what I need to be able to build into them.  

I love Him and I love them very much.

Rejection

The day was beautiful and I still wanted to hide inside.  Fortunately, I offered to take a friend to pick up her car so it forced me out of the house.  But then a feeling I hadn't felt for a few weeks came roaring up from within.  I wanted to eat myself to death.

I ate breakfast.  I was eating sugary foods beforehand.  I felt like my thoughts were taking over and so was my good judgment.  I was battling the strong desire to eat everything in sight or at least stop at the store and purchase all the foods I was avoiding.

I've lost 27 pounds.  I've lost 11 pounds so far this year.  What is going on inside of me?

Then I remembered.  It could be the dreams I've been having.  Dreams about Bonnie.  Dreams about death.  Dreams about her husband dying.  Dreams about grieving.  Dreams about our friendship dying.  The sadness I feel now that I'm more conscious than I was a few years ago when I left.

How do I deal with a loss I caused that was based on supportive behavior she was slowly backing away from?  How do I deal with the loss of someone I loved, someone who was my best friend?  How do I grieve a friendship that I thought was unbreakable only to find out the truth:  I wasn't worth waiting or fighting for?

I don't know.  These dreams are repetitious.  The same content, similar relationships, same ages, same kids with kids, sorrow and sadness, questions without answers.

I don't like these dreams.  Each time I have them I want to kill the pain with food.  We worked hard at our friendship at the beginning to repair some damage.  When that was fixed, the rest was good.  I loved her children - all seven of them.  I cared for and respected her husband.

None of them understood me.  None of them wanted to understand me.  I was too difficult, too strange, too sick to be let around them.  I'd gone from treasured to trash.

Never do that to someone who has mental illness.

Never.

McHenry Cty Track Meet

My niece is a freshman in high school.  She's on the track and field team.  She does a few running events and last year some field events.  Her coach is trying to stretch her by adding some distance to her running competitions.

She was nervous about it because of her asthma.  She takes her inhaler with her to practice and meets so she's well prepared in case she needs it.  What I love about her is her willingness to go along with her coach to become a better athlete even though her asthma might flare up.

I told her I would be at the meet yesterday.  I think I told her sometime last week.  I'd been feeling pretty low all day.  I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it but circumstances worked out in my favor.  Do you know that young lady, all of fourteen years old, was so excited to see me?

It wasn't because I had her bag of apples, or would buy her Subway or give her some $$ for the meet.  It was because I am her Aunt and she was super glad I was there.

When she was getting ready to eat after her event, she asked if I wanted to stay.  I was feeling anxious and nervous so I said, "Yeah, that would be great."  Sometimes you just have to plow through those feelings in order to enjoy the benefit of feeling loved by another person.  She really wanted me to stay.

What if I had turned her down?  I would have seen a very sad young lady.  Even if I had told her that my anxiety/panic was difficult, she would have understood but still, I would have had a sad young lady looking back at me.  I couldn't do that to her.

This is a disease.  It has enough control and I don't need to feed it anymore.  If I am feeling that way I can tell myself there's nothing here that's going to hurt me, nothing is going to threaten my safety.  Stay with your niece like she wants you to.  Enjoy her, enjoy her friends. crack some jokes and remember, she's only fourteen for a short time.  If she wants you to stay, stay.

And that's what I did.  I gave myself positive messages, positive self talk and stayed.  When it was time for me to go, that young lady was ready for me to go.  She gave me a hug and she told me she loved me.  See what I would have missed?  She's wanted some alone time with me and I was able to overcome those fears and give her some alone time.

It doesn't take much effort to plant a seed of love in the heart of a child.

Symptoms from Medicine Changes?

This week I've depended on God to help me discern physical symptoms derived from medicine changes vs stress or other physical contributors.  What my body did was new.  I'm not sure exactly which category the weirdness belongs in.

In either case, the potential was swelling of the brain, a stroke or a brain tumor.  Thankfully the CT Scan showed none of these.  But did that really matter?  Not much.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm very grateful I don't have any of those.  It's just that there are days when my shaking is very noticeable and I wish I had a diagnosis for it.  There are days my head hurts so bad I wish I had a different diagnosis than Chronic Migraine Headaches.  I know I have a lot of labels for physical and psychological problems.  I guess I wish I could pinpoint them to something concrete.

But at this point, I'll take no new names for things that are bothersome that I can live with.  I'll go to the emergency room like I did and get it checked out - that's the right thing to do.  If I walk out of there with no answer as to why it happened or a new diagnosis, I'll be okay with it.

Yeah, it still bothers me.

How long will I let it bother me?

Until it's done, I guess.

I know God has a purpose for everything that passes through His hands

I just wish He'd give me a heads up once in awhile.