So much misery, so little time | Salon Books

So much misery, so little time | Salon Books.

“Suffering,” he writes, “is as common as death, and like death, it resists all attempts to explain it.”

Peter Trachtenberg took a tour around the world in his quest to understand why some people are crushed by suffering and others are transformed by it.

I know a thing or two about suffering. Maybe not as much as some, but don’t we all suffer equally, regardless of ther reason? No, my losses aren’t as great as the losses of the man who lived through Auschwitz, or the people who lost everything in Katrina (or Andrew or any severe weather or reason), or the twins with the skin disease. Are they any less though?

I’ve had a life of loss, but if I try very hard and flip it around, I’ve been given some powerful gifts as well. I’m compassionate, I’m thoughtful of others, I don’t see differences between people… often. I’m sure there is more. I am a better person for my suffering. I am stronger. I am smarter. I am a lot of things.

I also have less. I am missing important people, things, accomplishments, milestones and events. Much like our Holocaust survivors, I watched members of my family waste away in sickness and die. I’ve buried my mother and my sister. I’ve stepped up to fill in her place, as best I can.

Suffering… what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger? One foot in front of the other. I live my life by that mantra. I always have, and I suspect, always will. Disaster will always strike, but good times are always just around the corner.

I want to pick up this book. It fascinates me. Maybe I just need to know that everyone else is just as miserable as I am. Maybe my Zaide is right, if we all hung our troubles up at the end of the day, and could pick new ones to take home, we’d still take our own. We know them, we understand them, and we have learned what to do with them. Someone else’s troubles frighten us because they are foreign. I’ll keep my troubles, my suffering, because I know what to do with it, and I know good times are coming.

food for thought

Lately this has become a reoccurring theme in my life (or at least a reoccurring bit of advice I’ve given and applies to myself a lot too), so I am sharing it:

What’s done is done and I can’t go back and change it now. You can only do what you feel is best at the next opportunity you have.

I am not saying don’t own your mistakes, but don’t wallow in them either.

Changes… feel free to skip

I am far from religious… or even what I would call spiritual. That said, I am going to try to make an effort to have a more wholesome household. What does that have to do with religion? I have had a lot of exposure to Orthodox Judaism, and they seem so happy, it spills over to their families. I am not saying the mothers don’t have the same stresses non-religious mothers have, but in my mind, that happiness, that… Je ne sais quoi, tends to go hand-in-hand with God. Being as I am at odds with God, god, and that guy over there right now, I am not interested in bringing religion into the picture, not in the daily sense.

I want to stop yelling. I want to stop losing control of myself, and by virtue of that, my family. I want to have my day planned out the night before. I want my home to be “company ready” all the time. I want to de-clutter. I am going to start scaling back, minimizing, zen, if you will. I want to be free of our possessions… to the extent we can be. I like having certain things, so to be able to pack into a bag is unrealistic. I want to pare down our clothing to fit in our drawers. I want to not be overwhelmed so very often. I want to pare down. In that vein, I’ve started two lists for every month. Stuff I want to buy, and stuff I bought. Stuff I want to buy will be kept for the month and re-evaluated the following month. Stuff I bought will be re-evaluated and see if it was something I needed or a useless impulse buy. I am trying to work on my spending.

This could go on and on, but it wont. I am just making a declaration for myself. I’ve done very well on my raw food diet. I have one meal that isn’t raw a day, the rest is raw goodness. Some days I don’t have a non-raw meal. I am pleased with my progress. I have to say, I notice I feel different on days I backslide and eat too much in the way of cooked foods. My stomach hurts and I just feel bad. It could be in my head, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not.

On the subject, I am also going to try very hard to stop “I can do it/start tomorrow” and turn tomorrow into today. I always put things off, thinking there is time tomorrow.

Tomorrow (because it’s 8PM and my kids are in bed… or should be) I am going to go bike riding with my kids. And we’re going to play in the pool outside (just a little wading pool) and I am going to measure for my raised planting beds. I can’t buy the lumber until next weekend, but a little planning can’t hurt, right?

a family undertaking

http://www.pbs.org/pov/pov2004/afamilyundertaking

The parlor, or “death room,” was an important part of funerary rituals for most of the 19th century, the place where deceased family members were laid out for final respects. This image dates to c. 1890-1905, a time when many funerals were still taking place at home. Soon, however, death would begin to leave the home and by end of World War I most Americans will receive their health care in doctor’s offices and hospitals and most funerals will take place in funeral homes. As the funeral “parlor” came into vogue, the home parlor was rechristened a “living room.” A 1910 issue of Ladies Home Journal declared the “death room” to be a term of the past.

interesting to read this, mainly because we have had two people, literally, deathly ill in our living room, each died in there. I never knew that what I grew up calling the “living room” used to be the “death room.” How very. Perhaps the death room is going to come back into vogue? Perhaps it is just more… natural? I fought for both of them to be brought home, to be allowed to die surrounded by their loved ones, in a setting that some part of their brain might still recognize as home. Or maybe it is just more comforting to those of us who are being left behind.

feelings

I had a real shit day. No one did what was asked of them. I am sick. Ia m so hot. I made the mistake of getting on the scale. I felt bigger, I should have known better. I was down to like 145-ish. It read 160. One hundred and sixty people. So not only did I balloon up like a whale, I am at the heaviest I have ever been, and that was when I was pregnant! I am spilling out of fitted pants, my fat pants are now my comfy pants. I was just feeling good about how I looked, how I felt. Then I felt a few pounds creep on, and I guess they snowballed. I’m short, a few pounds shows. Fucking fifty pounds? I’m rotund.

I feel disgusting. I am torn between wanting to eat everything I see because I *feel* hungry (not thirsty, I know the difference, and in general I reach for a drink first) and wanting to stop eating all together until I drop this weight. I know, it wont work. But guess what, diet & exercise didn’t work either. I guess it’s food diary time for me again. When I feel accountable to someone, I don’t let a little here, a little there slide by.

I never got my thryoid tested. I’ll have to see if I even still have the damn paper. Maybe I can get a new one from the MW without paying for another visit.

God, I feel like a cow. My sinuses are all stuffed up, my head feels three sizes too big, and I guess it matches my ass, right?

So I am not only complaining, I did move the shoe rack, and the small marble table, and it opened up our entire entrance into the house. I swept and mopped. I brought three baskets of laundry up and got two of them put away (the third is full of the kids clothes, which can’t be put away just yet).

We did not get to the park this morning, but we did get a new nightlight for the boys room and toilet paper. We had hotdogs in crescent rolls for dinner tonight.

I love my family. I do. I wish I could wake up, and have a giant do-over. One that starts long enough back to let me fix personality flaws in myself that I don’t have the strength to fix now, but could be altered in choices I made growing up. I just want the promise that I get Michael back, my kids. I just want basic things in me fixed, and I can’t do it here and now. I can’t do it alone, and the people around me don’t want to make these changes. I am feeling very weak right now. Lack of will power. Lack of something. Maybe I don’t want it bad enough, but I feel like “it” is things I have wanted for a long time. I just can’t do it alone. I’m not a leader, and I am not a follower. I just like to have a little company during life changing times.