• baby steps

    My eating has been trash lately.

    Last night, for example: lots of shredded cheese, some shredded cheese melted on top of Cheez-its. A can of Sprite for the first time in years.

    Night before last: a container of Rebel ice cream.

    For three days in a row, the last night ending with the ice cream night: Beecher’s Mac and Cheese from Costco…. the package said it served 6-9. I ate it in three equal portions over three nights.

    Sometime in that mix, I ate hearty portions of the sour gummies Oliver wanted at Trader Joe’s.

    The days start out okay. Most mornings lately I have been having walnuts and almond flour crackers for breakfast. Occasionally I have a protein bar with them; I am trying to cut back on the protein bars.

    About midday I make my Dunkin’ Decaf coffee, and put in my Anthony’s Marine Collagen in it. And I nurse it for the rest of the day in a Thermos tumbler.

    I had tried to cut out cheese and most processed foods except for the almond flour crackers.

    However, bananas apparently make me sick — I am repeatedly nauseous when adding a banana to my banana/ wild blueberries/ spinach/ almond milk smoothie.

    And so I gave up on the smoothies for several days. I will probably try one again today.

    And I haven’t made egg whites as a meal in several days, either.

    But, despite last night’s junk food, I woke up ready to face the day today.

    I didn’t make it to my church ladies’ group because Liam had a haircut in Sandy Springs with Finch at Aura Salon and I let Jared take him, and stayed home with Oliver instead. While Oliver can stay home for short periods on his own, leaving town with neither of us in town is not a good idea, obviously. Even if I could have called Mama and Daddy to be on standby.

    And honestly, I also needed to sleep in. I slept until 10:39 this morning.

    We’ve got projects I’d intended to get done around the house for Fall Break.

    The bushes need trimming back dramatically, and I have film to coat the windows in to provide more insulation, and I have 4 more sets of sheers to iron and put up because we really need one more panel on each of the 8 windows around the house.

    And we bought an actual old-school mop at Walmart this past weekend, intending to actually clean the floors really, really well since dog pee and poop has become a regular thing (it’s not their fault we can’t keep up since they are getting older, and sometimes they miss the puppy pads).

    But I have been in avoidance mode for reasons I’m not yet ready to talk about. Maybe next week.

    I’ve let the stress of anticipation get in the way of self-care, and all that.

    But today: Today it is 1:44 PM as I write this and I have done my light therapy. I made my gratitude list. I listened to this week’s “The Next Right Thing” with Emily P. Freeman as I did two of my physical therapy exercises.

    I did two of my physical therapy exercises for the first time in weeks.

    Jared wants to go on a walk.

    And my only house goal today is to iron those sheers and get them up. That is not a hard task.

    Baby steps.

    You can read more about me here.

  • when a funk is fear

    So I don’t write when I’m in a funk. Not when I’m deep in a funk, anyway.

    Then I go into survival mode. And I forget to write. And I get caught up in doing what has to be done to function.

    I crochet a little. I do random creative things to distract myself.

    I forget to get out my camera when it would be most therapeutic.

    And when I get like this, it’s when I really need to be writing the most.

    For most of the past 14 years that I have been on SSDI, I have severely glossed over the PTSD bit that was included in my qualifying conditions for SSDI. I spoke of it out loud among friends today. I don’t often do that.

    I don’t gloss over it in my own home. That’s pretty much the only place I don’t gloss over it. I don’t gloss over it in the middle of the night when a noise makes me jump and I send Jared running to the living room to check out whatever the random (nonthreatening) noise I heard was.

    Nevertheless, Jared goes. Jared goes even when he is exhausted, even when it means he will likely sleep out in the living room instead of with his CPAP on in the bedroom. Jared goes even when he knows what the sound was, and that there is no problem in the house.

    I didn’t gloss over it the night that the wind blew open one of the double doors in our living room after dark right next to where I was sitting, and I screamed bloody murder, the most vivid time in my memory that I screamed reminiscent to those awful February nights in 2001, back to back Saturday nights. The boys had never heard me scream like my life depended on it.

    I never told them it wasn’t the first time I’d screamed like that.

    And PTSD….is it PTSD because of assault? Is it PTSD because I was held captive in the night, begging to be let out? That night that I experienced bonafide legit torture?

    If it’s PTSD because of assault, which one? One of the ones I experienced myself, or the one I witnessed at the hands of someone I thought loved me, toward someone else?

    Is it PTSD because of actual medical stuff that had to be done to me to save my life, long before any of that?

    Is it PTSD because I am afraid of pretty much all men? Including my husband, if I am completely honest?

    Is it PTSD because of all that? Or is it something else I don’t even remember?

    The why of the diagnosis is less important. I have a difficult time even seeing that I have PTSD. I have a difficult time understanding that not everyone walks through their lives terrified of everything around them. I have a difficult time understanding that something about my neurological wiring is different.

    And sometimes, I have a very difficult time remembering that love is not supposed to hurt.

    I suppose that is the PTSD, too.

    You can read more about me here, to see how I got to where I am today.

  • the crash

    One of the feet of my grandparents’ 1940s couch…the couch lives in our bedroom now, but this photo was taken as part of a series I did several years ago called One Hundred Sixteen.

    Yeah.

    I’ve given up cheese and bread and most processed foods. Most of the things I’ve survived on for the 46 years of my life.

    So it stands to reason that when I get hungry, and let too much time go between meals, I’d get a little despondent.

    Several years ago, probably in 2016 or so, I thought I was dying. I’d had radioactive iodine ablation therapy on my thyroid the year before, and my thyroid levels were not leveling out as they should have. And my calcium levels were high, and I felt terrible, and my endocrinologist was not sure there wasn’t something screwy going on with my pituitary gland….

    And I took several of the photos I’d taken in the five years’ prior, and converted them all to black and white and made them into square formats, and made a photo book out of them, and called the project One Hundred Sixteen, related to our address at the time. And I had Ilford silver gelatin prints made of all the photos in the book…..I wanted my husband and kids to have the best of what I had done with the previous five years, in photos, things that my eye had captured over the years.

    The photo above is one of those photos included in the book and prints.

    And that is how we came to have a crap ton of silver gelatin prints of my early work around the house, and even more live in a drawer in our dining room now, just taking up space.

    I don’t have the exif data from that file above, since it’s so heavily altered. But if I had to guess, I took that photo above with a Fuji X-T2 and probably the 56mm f1.2 lens or the 35mm f2 lens. Around that time period all I would have had was the 16mm, the 56mm, the 35mm f2, and the 90mm, all Fuji X Series native lenses. It was for sure either the Fuji X-T2 or the Fuji X-Pro 2 camera.

    I laid down for a nap earlier this afternoon because I was tired, and when I woke up I was in an awful, teary state.

    I sold off 4 GFX lenses and the second GFX 50sII body this summer, and now I deeply regret it.

    If I had the second body, I could go around with both Cinelux lenses on.

    If I had the 45-100mm and the 100-200mm lenses, I could better do wildlife photography.

    But at the time, I had things I wanted to do and we sort of needed the money and well…. so they went.

    And so my meltdown earlier today was about that, and was also about the fact that while nobody paying me doesn’t mean I’m not a photographer, I also realized what I have given up in closing down my business. Even if it cost massive amounts of money I never made with it.

    I miss people asking me to take pictures of things, and I miss even more having the gear I had to be able to do so.

    Now, arguably, the X-S20 is better for some of that than the GFX gear.

    But once you have shot with a medium format camera….it’s hard to go back.

    It’s sort of like people who have to downgrade lifestyle stuff.

    And I have worked hard these past couple of weeks. Our house isn’t perfectly clean but it is better. The window coverings situation is certainly better, having a dedicated laundry day is better, Nancy is better, having the garage emptied out feels better…..

    Having the garage empty means I can get back to my studio selfies. I should plan to do that in the next couple of days.

    But then I got through with my pity party enough to go make myself my smoothie– almond milk, wild blueberries, spinach powder, and a banana– and two sips into my smoothie it hit me:

    I was despondent because I was hungry.

    HA.

    Y’all, I am so used to processed foods and cheese and all the yummy goodness. But the things I am eating (today’s breakfast was late and it was almond flour crackers, decaf coffee with marine collagen, and walnut pieces, and I did allow myself a protein bar this morning)….. they metabolize faster. And take more preparation than just grabbing a string cheese and a protein bar, or some goat cheese and sunflower seeds……

    *sigh*

    I do feel better. I went to bed not depressed last night. It was nice to just know it was time to go to bed and not feel like the world was ending, or like someone was out to get me, a frequent feeling late at night.

    And there is personal drama I don’t care to go into going on, both for me and for Jared, and there’s just a lot going on.

    And I don’t feel particularly inspired to pick up my cameras, even if I pine away over gear I parted with.

    It all feels manufactured and pointless. Jared takes me to the Marina and I sit there with the camera in my hand and remember, not even really seeing what is in front of me.

    And honestly, the sunrise photos at the Marina and the duck pictures in the evening are boring at this point.

    It’s time for a personal project. And a reckoning.

  • absent but busy

    I’ve been quiet because it’s been busy around these parts.

    October 2 was our 21st engagement anniversary. We went to Sutton’s for dinner– yummy pecan chicken fingers! And we went to watch band practice. Jared got me the cutest little bunch of sunflowers, leaving them to surprise me as I walked in the door from my ladies’ group.

    Friday came the sad news that Eats in Atlanta is closing effective October 18. Makes me sad, but then I read a little and found out that the pasta bar– the station that I’d picked up the only thing I’d eat there– pasta with olive oil and garlic– had closed with the pandemic and never re-opened. So, we are not trying to go one last time before they close. It does make me sad, though.

    Late Friday night was preparation for the yard sale that we had Saturday. It was mostly a flop, we made a grand total of $17. But it was still a massive win because we borrowed my Mama’s truck and hauled off every last little bit of the stuff we had out, either to the convenience center or Goodwill. Not a bit of it came back in the house. So our garage can park both cars in it again, which is a massive, massive win. I am thankful. Goal achieved.

    Mostly since Saturday has been recuperating from Saturday.

    But, I am back to having a laundry day! Per Dana at A Slob Comes Clean, you don’t really know how much dirty laundry you have in a week until at least the second week, and that proved true since this is the second week. Mondays are laundry day and I was able to get all our clothes laundry plus all the towels clean today, so massive win. Everything is put away.

    I’ve been making dietary changes, too. My T3 is low– my endocrinologist wants to repeat the labs now that I have stopped drinking Athletic Greens– but I think my body is just not converting T4 to T3 as efficiently anymore, and I don’t know why that is but I’m going to my primary care doc to investigate at my next physical because I don’t know that the endocrinologist is going to be that helpful.

    I’m not waiting for my physical in December, though. I have gone mostly for an anti-inflammatory type diet. Today’s breakfast was a smoothie with a banana (a whole one, and yes! I chopped it in and put it in myself– those of you who know me will know what a big deal that is), a cup of wild blueberries, a cup of almond milk, and a cup of powdered spinach (!) (and yes, I drank the whole thing, really. Those who know will know how big a deal that is, too). And I downed a couple of tablespoons of sunflower seeds with the smoothie.

    Lunch was my beloved almond flour crackers, along with a 1/4 cup serving of walnut pieces.

    Snack was a 1/2 cup of banza pasta with 1 tablespoon of olive oil.

    And dinner was half a container of egg whites, which equates to about 5 egg whites’ worth.

    It’s a far cry from my preferred bread and cheese fare. And I still have goat cheese in the fridge, but it will have to be an occasional treat now.

    Only really two days in (well, Friday and Saturday sort of counted until I threw in a Little Caesar’s Italian Cheese Bread in Saturday night and a strawberry banana smoothie from Costco which sounds good but has 25g added sugar), but I am feeling pretty good. It’s not going to be able to be an all-or nothing kind of diet– I cannot do this forever without little treats occasionally. But progress counts, right?

    So that’s where I am….still fantasizing about sugar and cheese. But much less grumpy and for once, not depressed.

    Also, the hell-beast cats have been released from their captivity and Nancy seems none-the-worse for wear.

    Anybody want a cat or two? For real?