Unexpected discoveries

I've heard the saying, "be careful what you pray for...you may get it", many times.  Also have heard people talk about receiving long awaited or prayed for outcomes and "gifts" only to discover they also had to accept whatever came along with the coveted state.

My past week began with my post about beginning again...again; how never quitting this endeavor toward health, leanness and wellness was at the top of my planner.  I did have several good on plan eating days, but by Wednesday was beginning to feel the vague stirrings for some Brach's Jelly Beans and other verboten edibles.  I'd re-entered battle with my compulsive food thoughts...countering them with the voice of reason in the usually futile attempt to NOT ACT ON THE FOOD THOUGHTS.  I actually ate something late Wed. afternoon that would absolutely have led to more food, if not a binge.

And then the dog began evidencing serious symptoms around 6 p.m.  Roughly 7 hours later my son and I tearfully held and caressed Lou as he passed from this realm into the next.

And my appetite has yet to return.  The long desired indifference to food as anything more than mildly pleasurable but essential nourishment for which I've prayed and yearned finally arrived.

I didn't eat anything after 6:15p.m. until a small dinner Thursday - my stomach was gnawing - almost painfully, but the thought of swallowing anything was repulsive.  That was as unheard of as the previous day - Lou refusing a fried wonton strip from the carry out that #1 son had just brought in, which became the first alarm that something was wrong.  In the 11 years we had Lou, he NEVER didn't want food.  He was his mama's baby :) (mama being me).

Friday was similar - I couldn't eat breakfast (other than coffee); I ate a smallish salad for lunch at work, and when food shopping after work I began to feel shaky and lightheaded so grabbed a small bottle of pure orange juice to get something in my system.   Had 2 slices of pizza for dinner Friday with sonny boy and went to bed.  Yesterday I began to want to eat a little more - a breakfast with AA buds after an early meeting, a black cherry Chobani around 3, and then a foot long hot dog and diet coke after a Costco run with my neighbor and close friend. Also had some roasted peanuts from the shell before going to bed.

This morning after my meeting a couple of errands, I did suddenly feel hungry, so fixed 2 strips of bacon, an egg plus 1/3 c eggbeaters, and a Fiber One English muffin and I feel stuffed.  This is all really weird for me, and I know full well it won't last.  Like Lou, I never met a food offering or a meal time I didn't want, unless I was laid up with stomach flu or something.

So not surprisingly, my weigh in this morning showed a loss.  I was 213.8 last Sunday, this morning 210.  I was actually surprised it wasn't a bigger loss, but not disappointed.  What I do feel is the desire to keep this current foreign mentality of eating because I need to, not because I want to regardless of hunger.  Partially because I want to keep moving down the scale - duh.  But also because I don't want to eat down my feelings of grief and sadness over losing our youngest family member (though in dog years, he was the oldest).

I answered a condolence email this morning from one of my sister in laws.  I told her I was quite overwhelmed by the depth of grief I'm feeling, but that it was honest, true, real and therefore as much of a gift as was Lou's presence in our family for 11 years.  Prior to responding to her email, I'd been on the phone with my dear friend (with lung cancer) Lisa, confessing that I've never experienced grief like this, despite having lost both parents.

I didn't experience it because I was so emotionally shut down - even at age 11 when my dad died (for all sorts of emotionally laden reasons), and then with my mom's death when I was 23.  By that time, I'd discovered the remarkable effects of booze as balm to whatever was ailing me in any given moment.  I was caring for her at home, and the night she died, I was drinking.  I wasn't drunk, but definitely anesthetized, and I stayed that way at some level for many years.  Food as self medication probably tamped down some of my feelings about mom as well, and definitely played a role in my dealing with my father's death.

I've discovered that this blogger has never dealt purely, genuinely and from my heart with loss before.  Never felt the starkness of life without a loved one.  So while the pain of losing Lou is acute, I see I'm fully awake to my heart, my soul and my humanity in a way I didn't even realize.  And that is a huge gift to me.

I couldn't squelch my tears when they come now if I tried - and believe me that I've already tried.  The've come when I walked into the local WAWA (convenience store) 3 days in a row now, and in many other "inconvenien"t places and moments.  No amount of deep breathing or redirecting my thoughts is sufficient to block their flow.  And I'm not interested in food, so it isn't serving as grief deterrent.

It's occurring to me as I write that maybe the food disinterest, my long yearned for state of being, is not an answer to my old familiar request; rather another component of being able to feel fully and deeply this sad loss of our Lou.  A gift, but not in the way or for the reasons I've wanted it. 

And it makes me feel very rich.