It’s always a treat to discover a new blogger with whom I have so much in common. I’m happy to share one of those discoveries: Rainey Daze and Crazy Nights — Poetry, Paintings, and Ponderings: Through My Eyes.
This is sad, beautifully written and exactly how I feel. It’s a difficult feeling to put into words; doppelgänger is a perfect metaphor. Thank you for writing and sharing it, Rainey.
doppelgänger April 1, 2012
for such a long while i have deceived you
i’m not really me anymore
the doppelgänger me is sleepwalking through my days
faking a smile, completing my tasks with semi-efficiently
while i remain curled protectively around my heart
no one is the wiser and it’s been better this way
the black tide is rising and i’m growing too tired to swim
the doppelgänger me is beginning to crack
the painted smile is fading
it’s getting too hard
alice is falling through the glass
you will soon know that i am no more
and that leaves me
I’m one of those people who doesn’t respond well to being told what to do: what I can and can’t do, what I should and shouldn’t do. Well, with some exceptions, which I’ll get into in a bit. For the time being, stick with me here.
I’m diabetic and have always had a sweet tooth but at my first nutritionist visit after being diagnosed, it was strongly suggested I not eat chocolate chip cookies or brownies again. Basically, ever. Please. I went right out and had one of each and have since developed a taste for doughnuts as well and I really don’t even like the sugary little pieces of fried dough.
It occurred to me a few minutes ago, as I was posting about the “woe is me” way the first week of my new health regime ended that I’m at the dangerous edge of fabrication.
I mean, this is my record of my efforts to regain my health, what I learn along the way and what progress I make. Is it not, therefore my right, nay, my obligation, to show visible success at every turn? To be a shining beacon on encouragement to all who follow me? To all who want to be poster children for wellness? Continue reading
The worst thing about an exercise/wellness program is not the exertion but rather just getting started. I’ve always found that to be true.
I’m having a lousy day. Mangled my finger on Saturday, finally gave up and saw the doctor on Sunday (my clinic has 24/7 urgent care–gotta love it), and am bandaged and on antibiotics and pain pills.
Hence, no exercise and an overindulgence in mom foods to make me feel better.
The thing is I feel pretty good, just drugged and kinda having a pity party. Pity parties are a necessary (occasional) part of life, I think. I just didn’t plan to have one only one week into this new health kick I committed to.
Besides I didn’t have time to send out invitations. And, no one would have come anyway. Pity parties are best handled solo.
If you know what those words have in common, besides the fact that they are all fruit, you are a woman.
I know this, because like me, you’ve spent your whole life being reminded of your body shape. There are many variations on the above three — the rectangle, diamond, tube, triangle, inverted triangle and on ad finitum.
And, there’s the coveted hourglass. Probably most coveted by men and the women who want to appeal to them. The bombshell, the babe. The iconic Marilyn.
Me? I’m an apple, grown out of an hourglass. In my mid-30s I lost my waist and found some pounds and my body is now round, not even remotely close to that hourglass. Continue reading