I must confess that I’m a bit of a whinger. I know, I know… this surprises you (!!!)… but I am prone to moaning, groaning and whinging (yes, I know they mean the same things, but I added the extra word for emphasis and to assist non-Oz readers in deciphering my slang!).
I’m well-versed in playing the victim and – if I do say so myself – I do it with great aplomb.
Regular readers would know that a lot has been happening of late. In the past seven weeks, my father has been hospitalised (ostensibly with some bowel problem), air-lifted to a nearby capital city, diagnosed (again) with cancer, moved into palliative care and passed away.
I returned with my mother (and brother) to my (former) hometown for the funeral (etc) and am travelling back to the capital city (where I live) tomorrow. It occurred to me that it will be exactly seven weeks ago when I was in my hometown for a long weekend (as my father hadn’t been well – the cancer was already obviously invading his bones) and he was admitted into hospital. I extended my stay as a result and – it means much of the ensuing time has been focussed around his health and how best to support him and my mother. When he was transferred to my current hometown, my mother stayed with me for over a month and I spent most evenings after work visiting him in hospital and driving my exhausted mother home to my place where I tried to care for her and ease her sorrow just a bit.
This upheaval is an excuse – not a reason – that my life (of late) has been somewhat unsettled. I’ve tried to continue to exercise; and my healthy eating wasn’t TOO bad until the last week or so. But, I know it’s important for me to realise now that all is not lost. I haven’t jumped on the scales as yet to see what damage the last week may have wreaked, but even I can tell that (despite a possible few kgs gain) I’m still significantly slimmer than I was when I started this weight loss program back in May – something I must remember if the scales deliver bad news in coming days. My faithful (but comfy) old shorts which await each of my visits to my parents’ place, literally fall down now and I received a number of comments from my mothers’ friends who hadn’t seen me for a few months.
So, as a new week dawns I have to get back on that horse. Or wagon. Or bike. Whatever it is that one gets on.
I’m planning on taking a couple of more days off work as it’s (quite frankly) been about seven weeks since I did my own thing in my own house, so I’m not quite sure how I’ll react when I’m back home. But, after scoffing a favourite childhood treat of chocolate icing on biscuits earlier today, even I know that I can’t continue using comfort food or alcohol to fill an aching void gnawing away in the pit of my stomach. And at some point I need to accept that I probably haven’t got a sore throat, but just a lump that isn’t yet ready to go away.
I’m assuming normality will help and – although I’ll have a couple of more days at home, I hope to stay away from the junk food, open my food tracker for the first time in a few weeks and slip into bed each night feeling strong – physically, mentally and emotionally and knowing that, by just doing my damnedest, I’ve done my father proud.
October 30, 2011
Hi. That’s exactly what I said to myself when I had to continue after my Dad died. It was 3 weeks before finals at law school (second year) and I felt like doing nothing but cry. But I willed myself to do well by saying that I needed to make my Dad proud, and he’d never think it was alright to let emotions override studying for finals (my Dad had a doctorate in education). So I persevered (and I also had to imagine myself as a John Grisham law school smartie–since being just woeful me wasn’t going to do the trick). And it turned out OK, which is 20 times better than what it could have been. You’ll be okay, just do your best.
🙂 Marion
October 31, 2011
True… I guess all I can do is TRY to hold it together and plod along!
Deb
November 1, 2011
Hi Deb,
I had nearly a week off when my Dad died, but went back to work the day after the funeral. It was horrible hard and I kept getting weepy at my desk, especially that first day but also for many of the days that followed. But the focus of work did help — it was like a respite from the grief for a few hours, and then I would go home at night and weep without restraint.
My Dad died suddenly though, which was shocking but meant we probably had more energy to cope with it. You’ve been running a marathon for seven weeks! Don’t forget to allow yourself to heal and recover physically as well as emotionally. Good nourishing food, rest, exercise… you know the drill.
Be kind to yourself at this time, and feel free to fall apart when you need to. I grieved really hard for my Dad, but in hindsight I think it was a good way to do it. It was like every tear washed away a bit more of the hurt.
Everybody grieves differently though. Feel free to do it your way, and don’t be constrained by what anyone else says or thinks, even me!
Belinda x
November 1, 2011
Hi Belinda
I’ve decided to go back to work tomorrow in order to get back into routines. Part of me – selfishly – liked the idea of more time off… but just because I liked the idea of the time off, not because I feel I need it. I tend to be hard on myself so am working at not ‘guilting’ myself over things as much at the moment. It’s still not real and this morning I could almost see him sneaking into my bedroom to go ‘boo’ and scare me (a favourite trick of his).
Deb
November 1, 2011
I don’t consider that a whinge – justifiably you’re feeling a bit fragile right now. And you know chocolate icing won’t help – so steps in the right direction my friend.
November 1, 2011
Thanks Liz. Have refrained from junk over last two days though I’ve been very very tempted!