I came across a blog post, actually a comment on a blog post, that's got me rather worked up. I'll not link to either the blog or the comment simply because the author, who addressed it in another post, did not address the commenter by name. I don't know how much of a splash on the blogosphere the author would want to make. I know some of you also read her blog so you may know what I'm talking about.
The author had posted about her frustration and depression about not progressing in her weight loss. The commenter replied along the lines of exhorting her to "keep in mind how her lows affect her husband." The commenter then went on say that she needs to remember her outlook affects others and asked if she frustrates them or makes them smile.
Really? This is helpful?
I got into this emotional mess by swallowing my feelings so as to not upset others. Like most boys, I learned not to cry, not to complain, not to upset others. Put the feelings of others before your own was my upbringing. Well, just how far can I stuff my emotions down before they affect me in other ways?
The commenter really hit a sore spot and then some. Don't upset your husband? WTF? Do people really still think this way? Fuck that. I don't know where I would be without my wife helping me navigate my emotional waters. I do know she would be dead if I had refused to take on her trials alongside. For better or for worse, not for better and what's best for Him.
I followed the commenter to his own blog. On that same day he wrote asking why some people are unhappy all the time and if they would just focus on the good and count their blessing, they would be happy. Has he never dealt with depression and mental illness, if not in his own life then in the life of a loved one?
So, dear readers, I tell you this: You are the most important person in your life. You do not need to surrender your Self to appease others. Complain on your blog if you want to (I'll no longer be afraid to complain on mine). Sure, it's ok to be aware how you affect others, but don't let it stop you from doing what you need to do for YOU.
Taking care of yourself first is the only way to even begin taking care of those you love.
Showing posts with label arrogant bastards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label arrogant bastards. Show all posts
2/21/11
2/6/11
Onions
It's been a bit since I last posted. To tell the truth, for every two steps forward in getting a handle on my emotional health and it's integrated, interwoven effects on my physical health...it's usually a step backward. It's like an onion. Just when I feel I've let somethings go, truly feel that I am over some situation or worked through some negative self image, I find it again at a deeper level....a more basic level.
I have a lot of anger.
Without going into all the details, 2010 started out by a betrayal of a friend. That friend was also my pastor but I am careful to point out his breach of confidence was rooted in our shared friendship and not his confidential duties as a man of the cloth. It was final straw and the tipping point in my relationship with him. I ended up resigning my position as a lay leader in my congregation and pretty much withdrawing from church altogether. The rest of the church leadership got involved with the pastor in issues that went much deeper than my personal pain, and it ended with him tendering his resignation in June effective at the end of August.
There is no doubt in my mind, though, that he blames me for the majority of his failed ministry with my congregation. I have the e-mail.
I've consciously let go of my hurt and anger. It doesn't serve me. I know that I did not, as he put it, "damage his ability to participate in the relational structure of the congregation..." I have worked hard to let it go and not let the situation and the memories of the situation control my day to day emotional life. And I've been rather successful.
But then I peel a layer of the onion.
Things have changed in the way I relate to church, to members of my congregation and to how I experience God. I went to church today and we installed a new, interim pastor, and I've been moody all afternoon. Everything has changed. It isn't over simply because he left. There is aftermath that continues to affect my life and the lives of others. The situation of the former friend and pastor can be directly linked to my wife's emotional and mental health issues. The stress of the last year has been central in my weight gain. I have a lot of anger that I am left with this situation to deal with.
I'm not giving up. I'll keep peeling back that onion. Pastor Whosit surely isn't the only thing I'll find I'm sure. Keeping a positive attitude and squelching the negative self talk is a significant step forward for me given my past and personality. But denying what's buried deep down will not keep me moving forward.
I've got more work to do.
You know, this isn't a typical Jogging Clydesdale post. But it was important to write so I think I'll post it anyway.
I have a lot of anger.
Without going into all the details, 2010 started out by a betrayal of a friend. That friend was also my pastor but I am careful to point out his breach of confidence was rooted in our shared friendship and not his confidential duties as a man of the cloth. It was final straw and the tipping point in my relationship with him. I ended up resigning my position as a lay leader in my congregation and pretty much withdrawing from church altogether. The rest of the church leadership got involved with the pastor in issues that went much deeper than my personal pain, and it ended with him tendering his resignation in June effective at the end of August.
There is no doubt in my mind, though, that he blames me for the majority of his failed ministry with my congregation. I have the e-mail.
I've consciously let go of my hurt and anger. It doesn't serve me. I know that I did not, as he put it, "damage his ability to participate in the relational structure of the congregation..." I have worked hard to let it go and not let the situation and the memories of the situation control my day to day emotional life. And I've been rather successful.
But then I peel a layer of the onion.
Things have changed in the way I relate to church, to members of my congregation and to how I experience God. I went to church today and we installed a new, interim pastor, and I've been moody all afternoon. Everything has changed. It isn't over simply because he left. There is aftermath that continues to affect my life and the lives of others. The situation of the former friend and pastor can be directly linked to my wife's emotional and mental health issues. The stress of the last year has been central in my weight gain. I have a lot of anger that I am left with this situation to deal with.
I'm not giving up. I'll keep peeling back that onion. Pastor Whosit surely isn't the only thing I'll find I'm sure. Keeping a positive attitude and squelching the negative self talk is a significant step forward for me given my past and personality. But denying what's buried deep down will not keep me moving forward.
I've got more work to do.
You know, this isn't a typical Jogging Clydesdale post. But it was important to write so I think I'll post it anyway.
10/29/10
Counting my blessings
I've been hemming and hawing about whether or not to expound on my thoughts about Maura Kelly and her recent blog blow up. If you haven't read it, you can here and a link to a solid, sound response (the best I've found yet)* can be found here. But to sum it up, Kelly put her foot in her mouth when she said that she would find it disgusting to watch fat people be affectionate on TV, indeed that watching a fat person walk across the room is too much to bear in real life. And it gets worse from there, partly because she seems to be in earnest that she's really writing to help the overweight.
I don't have a real need to vilify her. Plenty of others on the interwebs have done enough of that. Instead, the whole thing has gotten me rather reflective about my own situation. I've been rather lucky that I have not experienced a lot of prejudice and nasty comments from strangers. And those I get from friends and family are mild and only on occasion. Some of the stories are downright funny if you ask me. A few years back a patron of the branch library, where I work as the librarian and staff supervisor, called to complain about customer service. I took the phone call, listened to the gentleman, then asked if he knew who on my staff had treated him so poorly. He said: "It was that really fat guy." I responded, "Well, sir, I'm the only male employee here so it must have been me. What can I do to make the situation better?" There was silence, then he said "Well, I guess we're even." Then he hung up.
It isn't to say that I have escaped harsh words and judgmental looks from others. Simply that it doesn't happen too often to me. This brouhaha around Kelly's post actually reminds me how lucky I've been to have such a fantastic network of friends and family. I have a feeling that it has partly to do with the fact that I'm male. Most of my female friends have many more horror stories than my male friends in this regard. Or it could also be that I'm just clueless, which actually tends to go along with being male.
Still, there is one thing that many well meaning people in my life do that cuts deeper than most. If they see me snacking, they'll ask "are you sure you want to do that?" My former pastor was notorious for this one. It bothers me because a flat out insult can be processed and ignored rather quickly in my headspace (ok, I'm not that laid back, but in comparison...) but these statements carry a stench of "Father Knows Best" that really rubs the wrong way. And I can guarantee that it will have the opposite effect. It doesn't work when I shame myself, what is it about these people that they think they can shame me into a healthier lifestyle? Many friends and family who say that to me say it only once. But some just don't get a clue.
Where is all this leading? I have no freaking clue. Like many in my situation, the emotions caught up in lifestyles destructive to healthy living are complex. If I write next week, I would probably come up with a whole litany of slights and insults, judgments and injustice. But right now, I'm feeling pretty good about myself so this is really all the bluster I can muster after following the train-wreck at Kelly's blog.
*Update: Josh Shahryar's response is fantastic in its rational counter arguments and analysis, Jen Lancaster's response is simply brilliant.
I don't have a real need to vilify her. Plenty of others on the interwebs have done enough of that. Instead, the whole thing has gotten me rather reflective about my own situation. I've been rather lucky that I have not experienced a lot of prejudice and nasty comments from strangers. And those I get from friends and family are mild and only on occasion. Some of the stories are downright funny if you ask me. A few years back a patron of the branch library, where I work as the librarian and staff supervisor, called to complain about customer service. I took the phone call, listened to the gentleman, then asked if he knew who on my staff had treated him so poorly. He said: "It was that really fat guy." I responded, "Well, sir, I'm the only male employee here so it must have been me. What can I do to make the situation better?" There was silence, then he said "Well, I guess we're even." Then he hung up.
It isn't to say that I have escaped harsh words and judgmental looks from others. Simply that it doesn't happen too often to me. This brouhaha around Kelly's post actually reminds me how lucky I've been to have such a fantastic network of friends and family. I have a feeling that it has partly to do with the fact that I'm male. Most of my female friends have many more horror stories than my male friends in this regard. Or it could also be that I'm just clueless, which actually tends to go along with being male.
Still, there is one thing that many well meaning people in my life do that cuts deeper than most. If they see me snacking, they'll ask "are you sure you want to do that?" My former pastor was notorious for this one. It bothers me because a flat out insult can be processed and ignored rather quickly in my headspace (ok, I'm not that laid back, but in comparison...) but these statements carry a stench of "Father Knows Best" that really rubs the wrong way. And I can guarantee that it will have the opposite effect. It doesn't work when I shame myself, what is it about these people that they think they can shame me into a healthier lifestyle? Many friends and family who say that to me say it only once. But some just don't get a clue.
Where is all this leading? I have no freaking clue. Like many in my situation, the emotions caught up in lifestyles destructive to healthy living are complex. If I write next week, I would probably come up with a whole litany of slights and insults, judgments and injustice. But right now, I'm feeling pretty good about myself so this is really all the bluster I can muster after following the train-wreck at Kelly's blog.
*Update: Josh Shahryar's response is fantastic in its rational counter arguments and analysis, Jen Lancaster's response is simply brilliant.
10/21/10
But oh that magic feelin'...
I'm gettin' that antsy feeling. The one you get when you know you're finally approaching the decision you know you want to make but for whatever reason you avoid it. The one where you say to yourself, 'time to get healthy' and know you actually mean it this time.
I'm getting there.
Mrs. C's new regimen is doing wonders. I cannot believe the improvement we are experiencing in only a week's time after 3 months of illness--spirit crushing illness. The atmosphere in the stable is palpably lighter and there is laughter. And I feel renewed.
Much of what brought so much stress in the last half of '09 through the fall of '10 has finally found its way to closure--and the friendship that was lost no longer troubles me. I know it's a bit cryptic, but no one enjoys it when a friendship disintegrates, especially if it was for circumstances beyond one's control; especially if it needed to happen to protect one's boundaries. I will need to live with the knowledge that the other party places the overwhelming majority of the problem at my feet and will never consider his own failure. But given our last chance encounter, I find myself untroubled. That chapter is closed.
Life certainly ain't perfect and I do have problems focusing on the goal. I did stop by the 7-11 for chips and dip, knowing it was a mistake. But it feels like my subconscious is trying to get in a few last hurrahs.
This isn't a "well, I'll start tomorrow" kinda thing knowing tomorrow never comes. I'm not sure when I will start. But I feel like the knots in life are unraveling and the clarity is returning.
I'm getting there.
Mrs. C's new regimen is doing wonders. I cannot believe the improvement we are experiencing in only a week's time after 3 months of illness--spirit crushing illness. The atmosphere in the stable is palpably lighter and there is laughter. And I feel renewed.
Much of what brought so much stress in the last half of '09 through the fall of '10 has finally found its way to closure--and the friendship that was lost no longer troubles me. I know it's a bit cryptic, but no one enjoys it when a friendship disintegrates, especially if it was for circumstances beyond one's control; especially if it needed to happen to protect one's boundaries. I will need to live with the knowledge that the other party places the overwhelming majority of the problem at my feet and will never consider his own failure. But given our last chance encounter, I find myself untroubled. That chapter is closed.
Life certainly ain't perfect and I do have problems focusing on the goal. I did stop by the 7-11 for chips and dip, knowing it was a mistake. But it feels like my subconscious is trying to get in a few last hurrahs.
This isn't a "well, I'll start tomorrow" kinda thing knowing tomorrow never comes. I'm not sure when I will start. But I feel like the knots in life are unraveling and the clarity is returning.
9/26/10
Complaints from the Back of the Pack: A Race Report
Yesterday's race was both rewarding and incredibly insulting. I'm not exactly sure what to write about either feeling.
I arrived at the fairgrounds for the Michiana Relief Sale 5K about an hour before start time. I checked in, made some small talk with the other runners. Sipped on my water. Agreed that yes it was chilly but it was going to be a good run. Then someone asked where I was going to be stationed.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Aren't you volunteering for the race?" he said.
"No. I'm running."
The slightest pause passed, just enough to notice.
"Good for you!"
This happened three times. And it really pissed me off. Each time the person got a silly smile on their face, like they wanted to pat my head and buy me a pony. Yes, I'm a fat guy that's gonna run. How about "What's your goal?" or "Hey, great! Good luck in the race!" or "Been running long?" or any of the other banter I heard all around me?
But it wasn't going to spoil my run.
As the fates would have it, a treasured friend from high school happened to be in town and attended the race. My friend is, I believe, 6'5" and as lanky as a cat. In fact, back in the day, we were known as Calvin and Hobbes. But that's another story. Hobbes found me and we immediately fell into the familiarity of old friends. We agreed that he need not stay with me through the race, but he did want to come back and find me after he had finished. He wanted to pace me as I finished up.
There was a lot of people there I knew. It's a small town and the relief sale is put on by my denominational church, so there was even a greater chance of meeting someone I knew, or was related to. It was great to see old friends besides Hobbes, but I will admit about being nervous about running with, and embarrassing myself in front of so many I knew.
We lined up and started off after the 2K walkers left the track. The route took us around the half mile horse track twice, then out into the parking area, back into the fair grounds and then back to the track for the last half mile. I got lapped by the leader just shy of the first half mile. No problem. I knew that was going to happen. I knew I was going to be at the back of this pack. As I was finishing my first lap, the timer was calling out pace times and I remembered that the organizer said that he'd be doing this. Half mile in 7 minutes. Not great, but about my average.
By the second time around, the timer wasn't calling out the pace. He was off to the side drinking coffee. That pissed me off too. I may be slow, but I deserve the respect that was afforded the faster runners too. It wasn't as if I was in last place. I had 5 runners behind me. Nor was it as if I hadn't finished in the 1 hour allotted to the race time. This happened throughout the race. Volunteers that were posted to guide runners through the fairgrounds left their post by the time I came through. That pisses me off.
Still, it really was a good run insofar as the pace was good and hard. I was about a mile from the finish when Hobbes joined up with me. We chatted a bit, though my pace was a little higher than would allow a comfortable conversation. This was, after all, a race. He kept me going, encouraging me, asking how I trained and what else I was doing this summer. And we talked about his training for a half marathon he was running in a month. I really enjoyed that last mile.
His longer stride did push up my pace a bit, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. And before I knew it, there was the chute. I did kick it for the last 100 yards or so even though there wasn't anyone to race ahead of. Crossed the line at 40m47s. It was nearly a minute and a half off my race last weekend. I was really pleased.
But I was disappointed that other runners had already walked off. Some had already picked up their prizes and were walking around the sale. Now, I'm not being a whinny ass here. The other runners don't owe me anything and I certainly didn't expect everyone to stick around at the finish line for the back of the pack. But there was no one. Except Hobbes. Where was the congeniality of runners that I've been reading about?
So, what a mix of emotions. A good hard run. Great time spent with an old friend. A marked improvement in my pace and time. Didn't come in dead last. And yet, I experienced condescension, apathy and downright been ignored.
After posting this, I am letting it go. I met my goals and I will be there next year.
I arrived at the fairgrounds for the Michiana Relief Sale 5K about an hour before start time. I checked in, made some small talk with the other runners. Sipped on my water. Agreed that yes it was chilly but it was going to be a good run. Then someone asked where I was going to be stationed.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Aren't you volunteering for the race?" he said.
"No. I'm running."
The slightest pause passed, just enough to notice.
"Good for you!"
This happened three times. And it really pissed me off. Each time the person got a silly smile on their face, like they wanted to pat my head and buy me a pony. Yes, I'm a fat guy that's gonna run. How about "What's your goal?" or "Hey, great! Good luck in the race!" or "Been running long?" or any of the other banter I heard all around me?
But it wasn't going to spoil my run.
As the fates would have it, a treasured friend from high school happened to be in town and attended the race. My friend is, I believe, 6'5" and as lanky as a cat. In fact, back in the day, we were known as Calvin and Hobbes. But that's another story. Hobbes found me and we immediately fell into the familiarity of old friends. We agreed that he need not stay with me through the race, but he did want to come back and find me after he had finished. He wanted to pace me as I finished up.
There was a lot of people there I knew. It's a small town and the relief sale is put on by my denominational church, so there was even a greater chance of meeting someone I knew, or was related to. It was great to see old friends besides Hobbes, but I will admit about being nervous about running with, and embarrassing myself in front of so many I knew.
We lined up and started off after the 2K walkers left the track. The route took us around the half mile horse track twice, then out into the parking area, back into the fair grounds and then back to the track for the last half mile. I got lapped by the leader just shy of the first half mile. No problem. I knew that was going to happen. I knew I was going to be at the back of this pack. As I was finishing my first lap, the timer was calling out pace times and I remembered that the organizer said that he'd be doing this. Half mile in 7 minutes. Not great, but about my average.
By the second time around, the timer wasn't calling out the pace. He was off to the side drinking coffee. That pissed me off too. I may be slow, but I deserve the respect that was afforded the faster runners too. It wasn't as if I was in last place. I had 5 runners behind me. Nor was it as if I hadn't finished in the 1 hour allotted to the race time. This happened throughout the race. Volunteers that were posted to guide runners through the fairgrounds left their post by the time I came through. That pisses me off.
Still, it really was a good run insofar as the pace was good and hard. I was about a mile from the finish when Hobbes joined up with me. We chatted a bit, though my pace was a little higher than would allow a comfortable conversation. This was, after all, a race. He kept me going, encouraging me, asking how I trained and what else I was doing this summer. And we talked about his training for a half marathon he was running in a month. I really enjoyed that last mile.
His longer stride did push up my pace a bit, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. And before I knew it, there was the chute. I did kick it for the last 100 yards or so even though there wasn't anyone to race ahead of. Crossed the line at 40m47s. It was nearly a minute and a half off my race last weekend. I was really pleased.
But I was disappointed that other runners had already walked off. Some had already picked up their prizes and were walking around the sale. Now, I'm not being a whinny ass here. The other runners don't owe me anything and I certainly didn't expect everyone to stick around at the finish line for the back of the pack. But there was no one. Except Hobbes. Where was the congeniality of runners that I've been reading about?
So, what a mix of emotions. A good hard run. Great time spent with an old friend. A marked improvement in my pace and time. Didn't come in dead last. And yet, I experienced condescension, apathy and downright been ignored.
After posting this, I am letting it go. I met my goals and I will be there next year.
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