Thursday, September 8, 2011

New Growth

Yes, that is a nasty picture of my toes. There is a point. I am feeling sick right now, raw throat, stuffy nose, sneezing, watery eyes - a poster child for a cold commercial. I feel bad. I have a strong desire to eat my way through this feeling bad. I had some chicken soup and crackers and drank some tea but I wanted more, like chocolate.

I'm tired of eating to nurture myself when life feels overwhelming. Although I have learned much and have evolved, the desire to eat still beckons mightily. A hot bath is in order, because my body is achey and it will remove me further away from the kitchen.
I noticed my toes in the tub. I had decided a few weeks back to give the nails a break from the polish, and hadn't gotten around to doing anything with them. (And they really need to be cleaned up as you can see. And one of life's big questions, are you supposed to get rid of the hair on the big toe?) Anyway, I noticed that the new clean nail growth is pushing the old yellowed nail to the top.


I have learned many new ways to take care and nurture myself that I never knew how to do before. I'm have begun thinking in new ways. But the yellowed old ways are still there, lingering and waiting to come out especially when I'm feeling sick, and down.

Okay, let's get to the bottom of this, what feelings am I trying to push down? Immediately my mother in law comes to mind. The last couple of weeks have been REALLY difficult. How many times have I already said that in the last year since she was diagnosed? Just when I think we've got the handle on the last level of difficulty, a new one is just around the corner waiting. She's been really confused lately and quite paranoid. Every couple of days we hear what is fresh on her mind: George and I are getting a divorce, he's cheating on me, we've moved out of town (together at least!) and left her, we're hiding something from her, George is dead, we now have three kids, (a boy this time!), and George has us living in a drabby apartment. All of these involve George, but now she has begun to fixate on me and my perceived shortcomings. She believes these thoughts and is scared and frightened. She can't work her telephone, or change the channel on her tv, but she can still move her way around in her wheelchair and make sure we know the television is broken and we are not answering her calls. She looks miserable and she shares that misery with us. It is draining. At the end of 2010, it looked like cancer was going to take her life in a speedy manner but she plateaued. I didn't realize that you can linger in this horrible state in between living and dying. Or I had not come into contact with it so personally.

My tears start falling when I understand that this is what I'm holding onto and not acknowledging and not allowing through. More grief. The desire for chocolate has faded somewhat and the desire to write about the situation springs up. I have put a call into the Hospice Social Worker because I need to talk to a professional who deals with grief on a regular basis. Last time I talked to her, she gave me profound insight especially as she has met my mother in law. I so needed to hear what she told me. This is going to help me more than the chocolate. A little new growth is pushing me.

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