onceafatgirl

Peace is better than chocolate

Archive for the tag “life on the road”

A short post about planning ahead and letting go

Today’s post is going to be short and bare bones. In fact, I totally forgot about this blog until I got out of the shower and a weekly alarm was going off on my phone asking “Did you post a blog yet?” Crap!

On Monday afternoon, my husband told me we were moving to Corpus Christi, Texas. The rest of the day, I made apartment arrangements and started preparing meals for the next several days. A breakfast, lunch, and dinner each for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. On Tuesday we packed up from morning until evening with breaks to FedEx our deposit for the apartment, email various paperwork, and return our DVR and modem to the cable company. On Wednesday, we spent the morning completing our packing and cleaning, and got on the road a little after 10 in the morning. My husband in the moving truck, towing his car behind him. Me following behind in my own car. We drove until evening through a dust storm, the makings of a tornado, and then a heavily raining thunderstorm.

On Thursday, we got an early start and drove all day. We attempted to stop at about 5 so I could attend a weekly video conference meeting with some fellows who keep boundaries around their food, but that didn’t work out as well as I had hoped. We were in the middle of nowhere Texas and the motel we stopped at didn’t have fast enough WiFi for a video conference, and I didn’t have good enough service to turn my phone into a hotspot. Alas. So we just kept driving straight on through to Corpus Christi.

Here’s the deal. I never once worried about food. I had my meals prepared and in a cooler. When it was time to eat, we stopped off at a rest area and I filled up my tank and my car’s. Every evening, I put my future meals in the hotel fridge and refroze my ice packs. My days were jam-packed, and sometimes stressful, but my food was taken care of. I made a plan, prepared, and took care of my food ahead of time. And that meant that everything else was just life. A dust storm in Arkansas was life. Traffic in Houston was life. The nasty lady at the front desk of the crappy Texas motel was life. I was able to play it as it lays (laid?) because I had my food taken care of. There was no need to worry.

We pulled into our new apartment complex at 9 AM on Friday, signed the lease, and had the truck unpacked by 1. Now we have been spending our time getting used to our new surroundings, finding the grocery stores, slowly unpacking our boxes, and getting used to driving here.

All in all, the whole thing went smoothly. But it turns out I still had to write a blog. So here it is. If you want to keep your commitments, plan ahead, prepare ahead, and then just let life be life. It’s going to be life anyway.

Alas, reality doesn’t care what I think

I’m an addict in the middle of playing the waiting game. If you are an addict, you know that this is not the most comfortable place to be. In fact, the jaws of Hell might be more comfortable. The jury is still out.

My husband has gotten word that his next job is lined up, and we know where (at least we are as sure as we can be – it’s construction after all), but we don’t yet have any information on when we will move. At first we expected it to be in the next 3 weeks, but it may turn out to be closer to 5 weeks. And it is the nature of his business that any job is subject to change. Investors pull out, companies go bankrupt, the market shifts. We do expect him to end up on this particular job, and we do expect to be moving soon, but the details are not set.

So I am packing and cleaning, getting everything as compact as possible so that at a moment’s notice we can load up a moving truck and get back on the road.

This is not how I live my daily life. I am a preparer. I like lists. I like schedules and quality information. I like to have a plan and a contingency plan. Or two.

When I was younger and eating compulsively, I was a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda gal. It was easy. I wasn’t ever expecting to be responsible for my actions anyway, so it didn’t matter if I knew how things would turn out. They would turn out fine because someone would swoop in and save me. I am not saying I was this way maliciously. I wasn’t meaning to use or abuse anyone. It was just that I could only handle so much of life. I was bad at living. I was easily overwhelmed. I shut down at the first sign of difficulty or pain. I had zero coping strategies that did not include getting high on sugar and just not thinking about, or dealing with, the problem.

When I first got my eating under control, I had to start dealing with all of my feelings. And if I couldn’t get high and forget my problems, it became clear that the only real way to deal with my problems was to solve the ones I had. And as for the problems I didn’t have yet, it seemed best to head them off at the pass. To streamline my life, my actions, and my relationships so that as much as possible was predictable, convenient, and clean.

And I have to admit that that way of living was particularly helpful when I was just starting to be responsible for myself. But there is something that I learned (very, very slowly) while I was keeping my strict food boundaries: the moments that move me, the experiences that make the biggest impact, the really juicy life-nuggets, happen in the unforeseen, unwieldy mess.

For most of my life, I never wanted to commit to anything because I didn’t want to have to readjust when things inevitably changed. But now I believe that self-respect and pride lie in making the commitment, even knowing that circumstances will eventually change. There is peace for me in fully committing to something, until it is time to readjust, and then changing, and fully committing anew.

So here I am, knowing that a big change is coming, but not knowing when, and not having the option of specific planning. The only thing I can do is get everything as close to ready as is possible, and then trust that it will all work out exactly as it is supposed to. (And I will admit that I keep my fingers crossed that the way it is “supposed to work out” is in line with how “I would like it to work out”.)

Maybe that’s the other part of it. Recognizing that how life is “supposed to” work out might not look like how “I want” it to. Let’s say, for example, that the apartment that I want to rent gets snatched up in the time between my talking to the nice lady at the apartment complex and the time I get a concrete moving date. I can be angry, but there is no use for it. I can be sad, but it won’t help.

What I need to do if something like this happens, of course, is acknowledge it, accept it, and take action to find a new apartment. And to trust that how it worked out is, indeed, how it was supposed to. My experience of reality has nothing to do with reality. Feeling that reality is “frustrating” or “not fair” does not change the facts of the situation. So I need to adjust to life as it is, not as I want it to be. And when I pick myself up, brush myself off, put on the big girl panties and do something about the way it is, I have a reference for the magnitude of my resilience. I have a sense of my own power. I have life.

The longer I have my eating under control, the better I get at life. And the better I get at life, the more I realize that it is all about the place where planning and flexibility meet. It’s about both preparation and non-attachment.

The opportunity to live on the road with my husband has been a blessing and a joy. I would not give it up for convenience or predictability. After all, life has a way of happening, unpredictably, whether you want it to or not. Living like a recluse wouldn’t guarantee me predictability, it would only make me ill equipped to deal with the curve balls I would eventually get thrown.

I have loved living all over the country, meeting new people, enjoying the different cultures and experiences. And moving comes with that. Packing and waiting and going with the flow are all part of that package deal. So I am sitting in the discomfort of waiting to find out what happens next. And when it’s time to do the next thing, I will meet life head-on. And I will meet life on its own terms, with uncertainties, and delays and all, because there is really no other way to meet life.

The best life in the whole world

I have spent this week in Indianapolis. My boyfriend was on a short job. 6 days. Tomorrow we leave early in the morning and take a 12 hour drive south to a long-term job. Roughly 9 months. Or that’s the plan anyway.

We were supposed to be at that job already. We thought we would be there mid-September. And then early October. We already have an apartment there. We moved in, and then packed up a handful of things and left it again for a few weeks. Because the work was elsewhere.

My boyfriend keeps telling me, “Nothing is certain in construction.” Apparently….

But I’m getting better at this whole moving around thing.

Today I have already packed up for the drive tomorrow. My 3 meals are ready to go. As well as a bit of extra food for the next day so we don’t have to go to the grocery store tomorrow night after the long drive. I did the laundry and all of my clothes are packed except the ones I’m wearing and the ones that I will wear on the drive tomorrow. I have opened up the drawers and cabinets to make sure we won’t leave anything behind.

And I’m also getting better at this whole uncertainty thing.

My boyfriend said that he was surprised at how well I took it when he told me would be coming to Indiana before we went back to our new apartment.

Yeah. Historically, I haven’t been the best at dealing with change. Especially sudden change.

When I got control of my eating, it became (and still is) the most important thing in my life. There is a quote by Thomas Jefferson. “Eternal vigilance is the price we pay for liberty.” I understand that this is a universal truth. Jefferson was certainly speaking of the liberty of the nation. But it is just as true regarding my liberty from food addiction. I have been a slave to food. I have been oppressed by my eating disorders. I am free now. But in order to stay free, I must never take that freedom for granted. Keeping boundaries around my food and keeping my eating disorders under control does, indeed, require constant, eternal vigilance.

I’m not complaining. It has never not been worth it.

But because of this desire to protect my freedom, I have often been very bad at “going with the flow.” For years after I quit sugar and put boundaries around my eating, I kept my life in a strict routine. I did not step out of my comfort zone. I ate my meals at home, or at restaurants I knew well. I avoided trying new things with food. And making plans to go out for a meal, or even around a meal time, would often fill me with anxiety. I could never be comfortable until I had eaten my meal and that was out of the way.

Because of this, the thought of travelling was terrifying. The only place I ever went was my hometown to visit my family.

Vacation? Vacations are about relaxing and enjoying. Not anxiety. How could leaving my own kitchen be a vacation?

But here’s the interesting part. All of that vigilance opened up my life. Made me available for new things and new experiences. Made me available to fall in love. Gave me the clarity to realize that what I was supposed to do was leave my life in New York City and travel the country in a pickup truck with the man I fell in love with.

It’s funny. All of that habit and familiarity and routine directly lead me to give up all of that habit and familiarity and routine.

Of course, I am still vigilant. I want to keep my freedom. So I protect it.

But it turns out that there are so many more ways to take care of my food boundaries than I ever thought before. It turns out I can do it and still move around the country.

But also, I am with a man who is not just supportive, but who goes out of his way to take care of me so that I can take care of myself. He makes sure I can get to the grocery store. He booked us a hotel with a kitchenette this week, so I could cook for myself. When we went out to eat with his family, I picked the restaurant so that I could be sure of getting what I needed. And I did.

Plus, I have all of this experience now that shows me that when I am committed to keeping my food under control, I can. And I do.

So, yes. I am getting better at this. The roving and the roaming. And the unknown.

I’m with the person I want to be with most. I am experiencing new places and things. And I am more comfortable trusting that everything will work out than I ever thought I could be.

The truth is…so far, I love this life.

I’ll end with a little story. We’re in an extended stay hotel, so many of the guests are regular travelers. I met a woman today in the elevator. We got to chatting a little. I told her my boyfriend was in construction, and that we travel. I said, “The truth is, it’s a pretty sweet life.”

She got a little teary-eyed. She said, “I just recently lost my husband. But he was in construction. And we travelled around too. And yes, I had the best life in the whole world.”

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