So, where were we?
When last we met I was working on the weight thing. Still going, down 22.6 pounds as of today. Yeah, I know it's slow, but isn't it better than being up 22.6 pounds? 30 more (or so) to go. At this rate, I'll be there for summer 2010. That'll work. Gives me time to clean out the 4 sizes of clothes in my closet. I won't have to shop for a long time.
Somehow life ran away with me in the last 5 or 6 weeks. Or I with it. Let's see if we can get back on track.
September was a very challenging time. Two of my dear friends lost their mothers and my second cousin decided to end his life. My cousin is - was - a Catholic priest in Japan and had recently been struggling with mental illness. He destroyed his computer files that held 40+ years of geneology research for which he had traveled the globe. He also destroyed much of the art work he had done during his 20 years in Japan. His remains will stay in Japan. We don't know the details and his siblings don't want to know. I bet he is getting quite a scolding from my great-aunt about this one. We can only think that he was very, very ill and not the man we knew all these years. God bless him and his siblings he leaves behind.
On a much brighter and hopeful note, the charity Long Beach Basket Brigade held their - our - first ever fundraiser in September and we raised somewhere around $12,000, or about 50% of the cost of providing 600 baskets to hungry families in Long Beach at Thanksgiving. Work to go on that front, BUT I have the Pathways to Independence fundraiser next weekend to focus on, so I'll get back to that after Pathways. And, course, my full time job takes some time out of my week.
Which brings me to the other twist September brought - I've developed anxiety. Me. Yes, me. The one who CAN be all things to all people all the time and who can't do a half-assed job because that's just not done. I win awards, I excel, I am the role model, I am the leading practice, I am the overachiever, the leader, the example. I've been through far more stress than a couple of fundraisers balanced with work. A LOT more. And I've been just fine, thank you. Ask my former therapists!
The doctor tells me that racing, flight-or-fight feeling I have, that live wire buzzing inside that wakes me up at night and feels like someone is pushing a stick on my solar plexus is, indeed, your garden variety anxiety.
I'm still not buying it. I think we need Dr. House.