25 September 2006 Despite still being ill, I was able to put in 9 miles, so that’s 21 miles so far. I feel like I’ve cried a river of tears and wonder when it will stop hurting so much. How I miss that sunny, happy face, the sweetness, the warmth... please God, tell her I love her and miss her. In reading my porcupine book several things have become clear to me. Many of my tears are because of my fear that my mother is right, that I’m not enough. Toward the end, my mother, on several occasions, drove home my financial inability to care for a dog. Never mind that I paid for MissB from beginning to end with very little help from them. They did help with her cancer surgery, though my boss at the time helped financial twice as much as my own parents did. They did give me Christmas money, just like the other kids. But in reading the book, I’m beginning to wrap my mind around just how abusive my growing up has been. Kevin has told Ruth that if she were 5 years old and living here, he would be calling CPS and gotten her out of here. I have to figure out how to do it on my own, having grown up with the lie beaten into me that I would never be enough. Personal boundaries were nonexistent and expectations were constantly changed. It was impossible to meet an expectation because if you did, it would be changed. Because I read about and heard about the abuse others endured and would run away, I always figured mine wasn’t that bad. I survived. Now, as I read, all I can think is that what these people are going through is no worse than what I went through and in many cases a whole lot better, and now I realize that what I grew up with was really that horrible. So what brought this rush of thought? From How to Hug a Porcupine: “Hope is a delicate thing. If someone feels they are giving everything and it is not enough, they will soon give nothing, for likewise it is not enough.” It refers to a girl running away because of her father’s arbitrary boundaries. I always figured that because I never ran away, then it wasn’t that bad because if it were really awful, I would have run away, not realizing that I was taught that I would die or worse out there, alone. So now, I must learn to overcome the fear. A part of me is truly afraid that I can’t do it, but I will endeavor to take one day at a time.26 September 2006 43 miles. A bit of a long day, not much from Dr.S but an unusually large amount from Dr.R. Honey is coming in handy. Since I have to sleep on my side, I settle Honey behind me to help keep me warm and sort of help me keep from rolling onto my back, my most comfortable way to sleep, at least before things got so messed up.
27 September 2006 57 miles. It feels good to see those miles posted. Work is keeping me busy; this is a good thing.
28 September 2006 79 miles. I’m quite pleased with my progress. The goal is to learn to be healthy, at least exercise wise, I’m headed in the right direction. Now if I can get everything else together. I did all right in the eating department today; a day by day endeavor. Perhaps a bit of tea, at the end of the evening; it makes me feel quite pampered.
29 September 2006 93 miles. Work was a little easier today; what a blessing. So many realizations are crowding around me, and I’m struggling to sort them all out and put them in their proper place. It’s about becoming who I want to be... it might help if I had a better idea of where I’m going besides just healthy. But then again, this is typical of me, i.e., I like to know where I’m going, but God doesn’t work that way, as He seems to work very much in the moment, so perhaps I need to learn to be content with His way of doing things.
30 September 2006 Took myself for a walk without my sister, as she was in Tucson this morning. I could have stayed home; no one would have known. But all I could think was that an athlete would get up and do it, so I did. Unfortunately, by the time I got home my back was in knots. I get so nervous walking alone. During the week it isn’t too bad because there are so many people around, but on the weekend, it’s so quiet. Every time a man was behind me, my hands curled into fists. It was a lot less stressful with MissB; nobody would bother me. I even had guys comment on my great bodyguard. I miss the quiet peace she brought me.
1 October 2006 In my Brat Factor today, this was part of the message: “Remember, discipline is remembering what you REALLY want.” I’m learning to lovingly discipline myself. In my reading this morning, Wayne Dyer shared this message he had framed for his children: “Good morning, this is God. I will be handling all of your problems today. I will not need your help, so have a miraculous day.” It made me laugh, and then it made me think. If God takes care of all my problems, then how will I grow? So instead, “Good morning, this is God. I will be walking with you all day, today, so any problems will be manageable, sooner or later. It’s going to be a miraculous day simply because you are living it, so enjoy it.” I’ve found another dog I’d like to adopt. Someday, I’ll be able to do so. I thank God, for everything. Family dinner is over, and I’ve come to learn that the reason my mother doesn’t want another dog is because she doesn’t want to deal with it dieing. How very sad, to deprive oneself of the joy and pleasure of years of companionship simply because of a lack of immortality. And considering my mother’s age, more than likely she’ll die before my dog will. I pray God is able to help me find a safe home of my own so I may enjoy all the blessings He holds for me.