There’s an expression people use when they are disgusted with someone trying to get rewarded or complimented for something routine that they should do without expecting to be noticed. I don’t know if it is original to Chris Rock, but he is the one I’ve heard us it the most hilariously.
In his bit about having low expectations for one’s life, he says that these people brag about stuff that’s expected of them, as in “I take CARE of my kids!” or “I ain’t never been to jail!” These are things that, of course, are expected of normal, functional, human beings. And normal, functional human beings don’t, after doing these things go around pointing it out, looking for compliments or rewards. in response to these low expectations for one’s own performance, Chris Rock sarcastically snaps, “Whaddayou want… a cookie?”
The problem I’m having lately, is that yes, I want credit, a cookie, a pat on the back. Right now I am so angry and sad and there is very little that i do that doesn’t make me feel either suffocatingly sad or like a ferociously angry monster. Between my health, meaning my pain levels being SO high and my mobility SO low, even the happiest reason to get out of the house requires enormous amounts of effort on my part. Also, we’re broke. Like flat broke, nothing left in our pockets, or car ashtray or couch cushions broke. And the gas bill hasn’t been paid and neither has the wifi, which is our lifeline to the outside world.
Son even needs it to do his homework. He submits his answers over Google Docs now, I don’t know if it’s to encourage them how to use the computer or to cut down on paper. I guess it doesn’t really cut down on the paper because the questions get sent home on a piece of paper and his printed out, graded answers get sent home later too, So wifi is kind of a necessity for us. When they started to cut off service this morning I called and got us another week. I have no idea where we’ll get the money from in a week but at least we still have service today. Husband has got to do something. I am out of people I can ask for help. I have degraded myself and asked my parents REPEATEDLY. I asked my friend, but her I asked for work, because sometimes I drive her places and she pays me. She handled things by ignoring me for weeks even when I sent Son to her door to check on her, because sometimes she isolates when she actually needs help. And I found out things are worse than I thought and I kind of find him despicable for this (not that it didn’t cross my mind) Husband borrowed from Son’s bank account (to pay for something that WASN’t a purchase Son authorized.)
I found that out because Son volunteered his own money when a birthday party he had been invited to was fast approaching and we hadn’t taken him shopping for his friend’s gift yet. Me finding out Husband had cleaned Son out went something like this: Son comes home and for the third day in a row bursts into my room and says, “we really gotta go shopping for Friend’s present.. like right now.. like today!!” Friend came to HIS birthday party, Friend gave him a cool gift. So Son now wants to reciprocate and his social anxiety is increasing exponentially every day that we don’t do something about this. I, having nothing to take him shopping WITH and no prospects for how I would pay for all important said birthday present, struggle to find words to reason with him as to why we aren’t going RIGHTNOWRIGHTNOWRIGHTNOW! As I am fumbling for excuses, Son says, “Just have dad take me to the bank! I have all my money from summer reading in there. We can use that!!”
So Son isn’t stupid, and without me saying it directly, he intuits that the reason for my hesitation is financial. SO I call Husband in to the bedroom from his studio and he is particularly douchebaggy about responding. Once i finally get him in here without Son, I rehash the whole situation which he knows about and has avoided doing anything about. He half angrily half sheepishly lets me know that Son doesn’t have the money he thinks he has. He has $1 keeping his account, the one he worked hard to create for himself, open, till Husband gets some school money to replace what he spent on whatever.
After grudgingly letting me in on this info, Husband slinks off and shuts himself up in his studio for hours leaving me less than 24 hours away from something very important to Son and no way to handle it. I hate when he acts like this. And all the while blaming me for things that don’t work out that aren’t my fault like my friend not calling me back with work. His explanation of that being my fault was that I was creeping her out with repeated texts and phone calls! If that’s what he really thinks he has no idea how our friendship actually works plus I love (and by love I mean loathe) the way he thinks he has any say in what happens with this kind of thing when he is sitting back doing absolutely NOTHING about our situation which is rapidly worsening for ALL of us, not just me and Son.
We have no money left for the month, We still need groceries. We still need gas in the car. We still haven’t paid the gas bill or the wifi and I don’t see any way that we will make it WITH service till June. So after trying the friend who is ignoring me one more time, I bit the bullet and called my mother.
My parents had helped us out twice this month already, once with $100 toward the electric to cover the $100 I spent on Son’s camping field trip at the end of the month, and once with $60 of the $70 needed for Son to sign up for baseball. I knew 2 things making this call:1) They would probably help. 2) They, at least my mother would rub it in my face for all it’s worth that they did and that this was third time that they did this month. Expecting all of that, it still hurt like hell to hear it. She kept picking and picking at the fact that I’ve never paid her back for any of the help that, I guess in her mind, was considered a loan.
I never called any of this money a loan, our income is super fixed, if we get behind on bills or anything of that sort, we need a bailout not a loan, because when the fixed income comes next month, the fixed bills come right along with it, So after rubbing that in my face as hard as she could she said she’d talk to my Dad and call me back. I sat and sobbed for the time in between. Part angry part shame tears. And i guess there was an element of suffocation in there as well. I don’t see this getting any better.. ever. Only worse. My health, my pain, my marriage my finances, It’s all a heavy load of crap that is slowly crushing me with misery. She called back, said Dad said he could give us $100 and said she was, “Sorry for being harsh before.” That was unexpected. She never admits to being mean or out of line.
As it was after 4 and the party was the next day I rushed over there to get the check cashed before 5. The last thing I needed was Son going to bed anxious plus an errand the morning of the party. My mobility has been beyond awful and mornings are the worst of the worst. When I got over there, she brought the check out to the car and apologized again.. but this time she confessed that she was doing so because my sister, who is visiting from Texas heard Mom reaming me out and went off on her about it. I love my sister. I love that no matter how different our lives are she always, always has my back. Side note, last time she was here with Niece, Niece took to me more than my mom, this time it appears to be the opposite, I think because of the sheer added exposure that Niece has to Mom as she and Sister are staying there. This is something that has me writhing with jealous angst and also something Mom never fails to rub in my face.
So I went and cashed the check, picked up Son so he could pick out a gift, then we went grocery shopping with my last few food stamps for the month. My craving and craven emotion following all of this was definitely reflected in my shopping. I bought a ton of sweets and some chips and a few useful groceries but not enough. I knew even as I was making these purchases that I would regret them, because they are bad for my body and because Husband won’t hesitate to point that out AND because funds are low and it would be much more beneficial to everyone to use what we have for healthy things. But that didn’t stop me from buying the crap. Or shoveling it in as fast as I could once I got it home. I don’t know why I eat to hurt myself but I seem compelled to do so
. You would think how much it hurts to stand and step and hold myself up would deter me from maintaining and gaining weight. But sugar, grease, and carbs have a serious grip on me, I read some obscure post about being able to somehow chemically turn sugar into morphine and some days I seriously wonder if that is what I’m after. So last night, Husband brought up the bad groceries and how quickly I pounded them down. I told him how compelled I feel and why I believe I feel this way but he doesn’t get it. It doesn’t matter. I am the one who needs to get it. To get how to make the right choices repeatedly till they become a lifestyle change that gets this weight off me and has me at a moveable, manageable weight. So I listened and I cried and now I feel equal parts compelled to score buckets of frosting and soda and also never eat again.
I hate feeling this way. I really hope the WLS does for me what I need it to and makes sugar off limits. I would miss is but not nearly as much as I would relish being smaller, able to move around, able to walk small distances without cursing and tears. The problem is, I want the cookie.. both the literal sugary treat I have no business eating and also the accolades and pats on the back for achieving normal human activities that are expected of a wife and mom. I also have great difficulty eating right. So if I manage to eat right for a day or two I want compliments, parades and results. I am impractical, unrealistic and impatient. If things are difficult for me, even if they are run of the mill routine for others, I want results and acknowledgement right away, I always want the cookie! Cookies, plural, if at all possible.
Multiple family members and one friend-acquaintance of mine have had this operation with varied results. Son’s friend’s mom (the friend) lost a lot. She is now, literally, a thin woman that used to be so heavy she needed help to stand and walk. I would so love that result. But even if I can’t get there, being 50-80 lbs lighter than here would have to improve my outlook on life. My mother has had wls and after losing 150 lbs she gained about 70 of it back. She is still very big, like high 300s and I think the reason she has been able to maintain her heaviness even with the changes to her digestive system is her adaptation of her unhealthy habits. Instead of tray of pork chops and sheet pans of frosted brownies she now grazes all day on peanut butte, crackers, cheese, croutons and even really unhealthy weirdness like bullion cubes, and fistfuls of vitamin E softgels and Ricola cough drops.
My aunt and eldest cousin both had wls and did well with it. Neither got skinny-skinny but both lost a massive amount from thier highest weight and now seem to be able to eat what they want in moderation. I would be happy with results similar to either of them. One of biggest fears about the whole thing is the idea of going through all of this and NOT losing enough to get my knees, NOT losing enough to make things better.
I’ve been jerked around a bunch by my insurance about who will pay for me to have this done but I finally, finally, have an appointment on 6/12 at the hospital that is going to do the procedure for me. Hopefully we can get the ball rolling and I can be logging the results of that, hopefully AWESOME results of that very soon.
As I post this, which I’ve been writing off and on for a few days, I am sad, irritable, fatigued and in quite a bit of pain. My knees, neck, worst wrist and worst ankle have been playing hell with me. Super swollen, tight and not wanting to flex and move as joints are required to for normal locomotion. I am fed up. My plan is to force my way past this pain so we can get a food voucher from TAFDC and to re-register with St Vincent’s food bank. That’s the plan. We’ll see how the actual day plays out.