fight it

Last night my husband & I watched the movie, Cinderella Man. The DVD had been collecting dust for the past month on our bookshelf - it's one of DVDs we rented from the online Blockbuster mail order service. We'd been meaning to see it sooner but I was reluctant to see any movie about boxing. More sports. How fun can that be? But of course, like most things that are attacked by my vast sinister imagination, are not as bad as I imagined. I actually enjoyed it. It was honest and riveting. One more story of how sheer will and determination can make anyone succeed.

Lately I have been under an incredible amount of stress and my emotions have tumulted from rage to hope to bottomless depression. Thankfully, the lows don't last more than a day or so, but this past week was particularly scary for me. My husband & I started to really fight and bicker. I really began to question why G-d put me on this earth. What do I have to live for? After I die, what in my life will I be able to show that I DID something worthwhile? I have no children and I don't know if and when any will show up. I never realized that would be such a depressing thought. I am at the point in my life that I want more than material things. Sure, it’s nice to have interests, like enjoy music, go to the theatre, to travel to warmer climates, buy nice clothes to build up one’s self esteem, etc., but when you die, all of that stuff will not matter. I fear that I will not do anything that matters. I am taking steps to change that, and in the meantime, I just need to hang on.

While I was watching the Cinderella Man film, I took in all the times that the main character, played by Russell Crowe, was boxing his opponent, especially in the end. It was a very gruelling fight, one that could easily end his boxing career. But he kept on going, visualizing all the reasons to keep on going, all the things he was living for, all the things he was fighting against. That’s when it hit me. I NEED TO fight this depression. Hit it hard. Fight back. When it strikes me again, just tell it, GO AWAY! I don’t need YOU!!! Ok, maybe that works on Oprah-Land, but in my world, who knows. I’ve done women’s kickboxing in the past, so I could just imagine myself punching a target with the word ‘depression’ on it (nah, a picture of the face of the person who's driving me nuts will do). Heck, I’ll do that every day if I have to. I’m tired of feeling lousy. I just pray that G-d will help show me the way.

By the way, this is Day 29 of NO chocolate. Is it time to break out the Godiva? It's got antioxidants!

All that Jazz

I've discovered the wonderful singer, Michael Buble' - please just got to his website and listen to his dreamy music, which automatically plays the page loads ..... www.michaelbuble.com

Enjoy :)

my intervention

There’s a show on A & E cable television called Intervention, which is a documentary that follows the lives of various ‘end of the road’ addicts. These people’s problems run the gamut, from heroin to bulimia to alcoholism. For some reason, these addicts agree to be filmed on this show – I don’t know how they are conned into it. None of them know that at the end of this particular journey will be an intervention, attended by various friends, family members, and an addictions interventionist. It’s very dramatic, with lots of tears and sometimes joy, especially when we find out that months later, the addict has a happy recovery. I don’t have lots of faith with addicts – my impression is that they will relapse, again and again, especially ones who are cocaine/heroin addicts. It’s got such a strong hold on them that perhaps being institutionalized is the only way to stay away from it. Of course, I have absolutely no direct experience with this, and most, if not all, of my opinions on this subject come from what I see on tv. So perhaps my opinion doesn’t amount to much. I haven’t endured their pain, so I cannot relate.

But sometimes I am jealous of them. They have a place to go to work out their demons. They can escape the real world for 90 days and get love and support and work through their issues. I have to stay here, in my lonely and frustrating world and work it out myself. I am depleted. I don’t know what I have left. My job is frustrating. I haven’t slept well in several weeks. I am always stressed. Why can’t they have a half-way house for people who are just sick of life and responsibilities? If I were a famous actress, I could claim just exhaustion and check into the hospital of my choice and be taken care of. I don’t have the luxury of slowing down and taking a break. Sure, I can listen to my relaxation CDs and do something nice for myself, like splurge on yet another book. But it’s only a distraction. The pain is still there. I don’t know what I feel anymore. I am just really depleted. I don’t feel in control. I want to change my life, maybe change careers, do something different, but I don’t know what. I can’t seem to stick to anything, except to things that are safe. It’s time to break free. But I need someone to show me the way.

what to do?

I never thought I would say this, but I miss getting those fertility drug injections every day.  It was something that brought my husband & I hope.  We were doing something about our situation.  It even bonded us.  Every day and night, my husband would give me a subcutaneous & later on, intramuscular injections.  Right now our plans are on hold.  I don’t know what the future holds.  I keep fooling myself that maybe there will be a miracle.  Maybe things will happen naturally and we won’t have to go through another cycle of IVF (even though it can be addicting, strangely enough).  Now I feel like we have to work hard again at being a married couple.  It was easy to coast a bit during the IVF process – I was quite hormonally challenged and squeamish from the drugs, and I happily let my husband go into ‘over protective’ mode over me.  He cared and gave so much to me – I don’t know what I gave to him.  

I’ve just been so tired lately.  I haven’t slept well in a long time.  I can’t use drugs as an excuse, since I’m not on any.  I just am tired of the void.  

Oh well.  Mah la’asot?  I just have to fill my life up with other things until then.  Besides chocolate.

chill baby........

It's Day #6 of No Chocolate.

I am on vacation for a few days. My husband & I have been needing to go away for a long time. The stress of life had been getting too much and a change of scene always does a person well. Except for me. As much as I criticize others for being too uptight and rigid, I am exactly that. I get anxious at the thought of a vacation. Especially when there is no structure. Something could go wrong and out of control. I know that sounds stupid and very uncool, but I have issues with not being in control. I don't see myself as a control freak though. We all have our illusions of what we think we can control. We really don't have control of much in this life. For some reason, even though I can get pretty unhappy back in my usual life, the thought of going out of my own personal chaos, something I am used to, is scary to me. So here I am, in a city that is at least 50 degrees farenheit more than I am used to January, and I am not relaxed. I worry if I am doing enough, seeing enough sights and wishing I could stay longer so that I can relax. I know I have to go home soon and this short trip will be all over. What will I get out of it? I don't know. But for now, I'll just try to chill and enjoy Shabbos.

Happy New Jeer!

It's always strange for me to wish others a Happy New Year on Jan 1st, especially to other Jews. It feels a little treif to me, like wishing them a Happy Easter. I am definately not one of those who only abides by the hebrew year calendar (currently 5766...a 3760 year discrepancy from the Christian year of 2006). However, I would become a card-carrying member in heartbeat if it would be to my advantage. Just imagine, writing personal checks with the hebrew year....none of my checks would ever get deposited (theoretically). Yes, mock me, but it's not a bad thought :)

Speaking of New Year's Resolutions, I am on Day #2 of NO CHOCOLATE. I am denying myself this legal drug and I hope to G-d that I can stick to it! A few weeks ago, I had the huge urge to make my evil world famous chocolate vanilla chip cookies. We had been getting so many holiday candy & cookie gifts at the office lately that I started to brag to my coworkers of one of my only cooking skills. Years prior, I made batches and batches of those cookies and would give them out as gifts to friends. I stopped making them once I got married - my wonderful husband slowly & thankfully became master of our kitchen and the man does not bake (I gotta blame someone :) Anywho! A few weeks ago, I decided THIS would be the year (2005) I would make those cookies again. For old time's sake. And to become the favorite employee at office doesn't hurt either. So I bought the ingredients, at several different specialty stores. I made sure that they were of the finest quality. I wouldn't want to disappoint! I dutifully put all of the bags of chocolate chips in the pantry and even scheduled a date for myself to have my cooking love-fest.

Soon thereafter, the pantry started talking to me. No, that sounds crazy. It was the silvery shiny bag of pure white sweet chocolate chips that yodeled my name. It didn't take long, but the Liar inside of me was telling me to 'just eat a few' to see how it tastes. I've got to 'test' the ingredients. UNSUPERVISED. I open the bag and drop a few chips in my palm and promptly devour them. It tasted funny. Gotta try a few more. Hmm. They don't taste like I remember. Maybe if I had a few more, it would all come back to me. Oh, these are good. Munch. "You know if you eat just one at a time and savour them, it doesn't count as much. Chocolate's good for you. Antioxidants. It makes you smarter." Who said that? Who cares. There are skinny people out there right now who eat junk food all the time and never gain an ounce. Maybe that will happen to me. I look at the bag - It appears I've eaten nearly 1/2 of the bag. I feel fine. It's high quality after all. I don't get a reaction from the good stuff. I'd usually be in some some hyperglycemic fog by now. I'm fine. I'm fine.....

I return the 1/2 empty bag to the pantry. I feel in control. Nevermind that I have one less complete ingredient to make my creation. Oh well. No one really will care if I make those cookies anyways. They should like me for me, right? The BAG was MINE!!!

I visited the pantry again and again. A handful here, a snarf there. Any excuse to devour the sweet addicting (duh!) morsels. I even brought the bag with me to read the morning paper in the living room. The contents inside the bag depleted faster than you could say 'Jenny Craig'.

I nearly reached rock bottom (of the bag) when I realized that I was out of control. If I expect to have a healthy body, especially after being on all those drugs a month ago, I must stop eating sugar. I must stop eating these chips, even though it doesn't have any artificial ingredients, and even though they taste SO GOOD. They still have the ability to make me a hefty honey. Must stop!!

I took the devil by the horns and closed the bag and tied a rubber band on it to seal in the remaining 20 chips and put the bag into the pantry. This was 3 days ago. I haven't touched it since.

Wish me luck.