The road climbs steeply. . .

. . .out of depression. A road that seems impossibly vertical, peppered with slick rain and desert heat. A road, once traveled, you hope to never return. People who suffer the affliction of depression often travel that treacherous road more than they care to admit. I am one of those people.

For much of the time away from my blog, I have been under the heavy heart of depression. This past spell has been punishing. Starting in March, worsening with the dreadful summer heat, and continuing on through what in other climates would be Autumn, I struggled with the impossibly vertical road. Starting to see the tunnel - no light yet, just the tunnel - was a huge step for me, beginning in October. But, then, a slight step backwards right after Thanksgiving. It's like that, you know.

So where does that leave me now? Teetering on a very fine line. It honestly can go either way. Hoping and taking measures to assure I hug that fine line until a thicker one is underfoot. And I pray a lot.

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God." -Philippians 4:6

And while I am not a morning person, I thank God for every morning I awake. With each new sunrise, a new beginning. Another chance to walk that fine line until it becomes thick.

One last thing for today:

"Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being. Each of us owes the deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this inner light." -Albert Schweitzer (with thanks to Suzanne from Privet & Holly for sharing)

I am grateful for my friends and family standing strong beside me on this journey. You have made all the difference.

Forward

18 months. Where did the time go? Where did I go? I can't believe it's been so long since my last post. Feeling a little like I am in the confessional from my Catholic youth.

I have much to share, to ponder, to catch up on. I hope you 4 or 5 loyal followers are still with me! Please stay tuned and help me move forward. . .

For now, suffice it to say I am reveling in our "winter" weather of 20's to 30's at night and 40's through 50's, a little of the 60's, during the day. I do love a chill in the air!

Happy New Year from all of us to all of you! 2011 is going to be a great year!believe smile construct teach read play laugh help sing insprire love dream hug dance forgive learn give listen understand hope share appreciate

WHAT WILL MAKE YOUR NEW YEAR HAPPY?

*from our pipo press New Year's cards

Summer Struck

I am a four seasons kind of girl stuck in a perpetual summer world. Some may find this a predicament of their liking, but I couldn't be more discontented. It makes me crabby knowing I am only a little more than two months into a six-month stint of heat. Not just any heat, but the heat of the unforgiving desert. This mood seems to hit earlier and earlier each new year. I apologize to those around me as I try to muddle through it. I know I am no fun to be with when I'm like this. I feel like a grumpy old man. I wish it didn't have to be this way. Why can't I dig deep down and find a reason to love this weather? Be happy just where I'm at, be present. This will take much soul searching. But it is worth the dive, to find reason to be in the here and now. Even if that means my "here and now" will hit 115 degrees come Saturday.

I gain weight just smelling Albertson's fresh baked bread. . .

. . .I am quite sure of it.

Why else would I be down only two pounds this past week? It's so frustrating because, for once, I have been faithfully following the plan. I can't remember the last time I made it two weeks on a diet. Exercise is a bit sporadic, but I am much more active than I have been in a long while. And this week had been really tough on my psyche, cravings abound and emotions gone wild. I even cried while watching the final College World Series game - what is up with that?! I did not, however, give in to any cravings. Which, in my mind, is why I should be down more than a measly two pounds.

I know, I know, two pounds is a healthy amount of weight loss per week. OK, I truly do believe that, just not this week. First, it was only my second week on the program and I expected more off in those first few weeks. Second, this week has been a real challenge; but I did not waver. Not one bit. And my activity level was up. Go figure.

Which brings me to the Albertson's fresh baked bread incident. I swear I could hear that bread calling my name as Wink and I grocery shopped on Thursday. Thursday at 4:00 PM to be exact. If, for whatever reason, you cannot have Albertson's fresh baked bread, do not, I repeat DO NOT, grocery shop at 4:00 PM. Fresh, right out of the oven. Aroma fills the entire store. Bread hot to the touch. Ugh. I literally wanted to cry. Yes, cry. Addict, the script of an addict. Cry, maybe, but I did not cave. The bread stayed on the shelves as the clerk commented on how healthy our cart looked. Thank you Albertson's clerk, I really needed to hear I was doing the right thing.

Instant gratification. I guess that's what this is really all about. I want it and I'm not going to get it this time. A little too much instant gratification got me into this mess; I shouldn't expect that it would get me out of this mess as well. Instead, I learn how slow and steady works. I learn how to wait on that gratification; have it really mean something. I learn how to work hard. All sounds much more worthy than the whole instant gratification gig, huh?

Well, on to week number three. I'll gladly take another two pounds down as I look toward the distant holidays and know that, if I keep it up, I will have given myself and my family the best Christmas gift ever. One well worth the wait.

Top Ten Reasons. . .Lake Milton

Far enough away to feel the peace of being waterside; but close enough to make the trip often throughout the summer months. Perfect for my family living in Ohio. Perfect for me and Caly when visiting!

As with all things Ohio, Caly dove right into this adventure. She was so excited to take that first few steps into the lake. But anxious too. Worried about catfish. Apparently she had an unsavory experience with a catfish in one of our lakes. (We live in a lake community, but I wouldn't even dip my foot into this water, let alone swim in it. It's that disgusting "reclaimed" water; environment friendly, because we live in the desert.)

"Are there catfish in this lake?"

I take a moment because I can see on her face that she does not want there to be catfish in this lake.

"No honey, there are no catfish." I am going to hell.

"Good, because if there were catfish in this lake, I would not go in it."

"Why?"

Caly proceeds to tell me of a boating mishap on our lakes where the boat tipped, she ended up in the water, and what she perceived to be a catfish nipped at her.

As if the memory of this makes her doubt my word, she asks again, "Are you sure there are no catfish in this lake?"

Well, I've already lied, what am I supposed to say? If I tell her, "yes honey, there are catfish in this lake," she will freak out and not enjoy the lake. And we were there all day. So I reiterate, "No honey, there are no catfish in this lake." How seriously do you suppose God takes lying to your child about catfish?

"Good, because if there were catfish in this lake. . ."

"Well then, you have nothing to worry about." Unless, of course, she later fishes with cousin David and catches one. Thank goodness they were unlucky in their fishing endeavors.
Senses awakened for Caly as she thoroughly took in the lake. Cousin Joe allowed her to drive the boat. Really drive the boat. I was worried we would all end up in the lake with the (shhh) catfish! But Caly did an awesome job as captain and we all made it back to shore without incident.
Peaceful. How does water do that to you? The ebb and flow. The mist. The coolness in its touch.

My cousin Karen had already beat the odds, surviving months after cancer threatened to take her life. The peace of this trip was never more apparent than in her face as the boat glided upon the water. She seemed to feel free. Free of this monster that now dictated her life. Free of pain. Free of wondering how much longer she will defy the odds.

As I watched her, fully aware I would never know the depth of her thoughts at that particular moment, I had no words to share. Partly from sadness, but also partly from peace. Peace in knowing that somehow this special place is able to quiet her soul, stop the chaos of cancer from spinning within. Because that is what water does.
Lake Milton has come a long way over the years. Expansive luxury homes are replacing old, dilapidated, camp-style structures. Landscapes are filling in where wild brush once took over. The feel of the lake is just so much more regal. But even with the obvious improvements, the simplicity of the water still prevails. And the peace. Peacefulness only a place of water can bring into being.

Lake Milton, you had me at hello.

Poppy enjoying the boat ride:
Caly ready to go on the boat:
Aunt Rosey's boyfriend Bill and Poppy relaxing at the pagoda:

Chatting with Kimberly, Karen & family friend Jesse:

Kimberly and Joe - does it get any better than this?

Consequences

Meals for the month. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even dessert. Yum.

At first I found it quite disturbing when I realized that none of these meals come frozen; all the foods - some containing meat - are "soft canned." For days, I was extremely hesitant to take those first few bites of each meal, literally nauseated just thinking about it. With good reason - the food leaves much to be desired both in taste and size. I told my therapist the portion sizes are laughable and she said, "No, Michele, the portion sizes are normal."

Normal. Haven't been there for quite some time, if ever. Food has always been a problem. I remember when I was young, but way old enough to know better, my Dad called all three kids into the family room. I had a feeling I knew what was about to transpire. You see, I had finished off the Hostess cupcakes. In one sitting, sneakily I may add. Leaving zero for the rest of the family. The conversation went something like this:

Dad: "Who ate the cupcakes?"

Me: "Not me."

Steven: "Not me."

Lisa: "Not me."

Dad: "Well, someone ate the cupcakes and you three aren't going anywhere until I find out who."

Me: "Wasn't me."

Steven: (looking totally baffled as he was really very young) "Not me either."

Lisa: "I ate the cupcakes."

What?! This was my lucky day - a sibling taking the fall.

Dad: (knowing darn well who really ate the cupcakes) "Lisa, are you sure you ate the cupcakes; you know you will be punished."

Lisa: (big crocodile tears coming from her even bigger olive eyes) "Yes, I ate them."

OK, what kind of sister lets her younger sister - by a lot - take the punishment for something that, in all truthfulness, she did.

I do not even remember feeling guilty.

This, my friends, is the script of an addict. The first clue I was about to have a life-long problem regarding food, particularly cupcakes. (You might recall my recent winter obsession with vanilla bean cupcakes from Starbucks.)

In all seriousness, I never remember having a "normal" relationship with food. And because I was never overweight, I didn't really pay it much mind. Year after year of paying "it" no mind, however, has taken its toll. I can't recall a time since I gave birth to Christopher that I was of a normal weight. In fact, years ago, when an old neighbor saw our wedding album sitting out, she asked me whose it was. I forget that almost everyone in my daily life has no idea I used to be thin.

Now officially obese, I have no choice but to address the addiction. Head on. No excuses. With all my might. Oh, I've been around the block a time or two with the whole diet scene. Nothing has worked because I have not let it work. This time has to be different; a last resort of sorts.

So, I am on board with Nutrisystem. Not the yummiest food in the diet realm, but what is necessary at this point of my journey. I call it my "consequence" for making the choices that got me here. Something I must be accountable for and to.

The first week has gone relatively smooth, minus the severe nauseousness in the beginning and getting used to what a normal portion of food looks like. I weighed in six pounds less than I did the week before. Wink (who has been so loving and supportive of this endeavor) tells me it's a great start, but I continue to beat myself up because I didn't lose ten. I tend to have an "all or nothing" attitude that I know needs some adjustment. Gotta keep my therapist busy!

So, please keep me in your prayers for the strength I will undoubtedly need to get through this. And, if you ever wonder what Michele is having for dinner, take a look below and you'll have your answer!
Consequences.

wRiTeR's BlOcK

I seem to be suffering from a severe case of writer's block. Ugh.

I think it could be attributed to my lack of food intake.

Seriously.

No, really!

More about that on Monday. . .