It’s January. Time for Honeybells and Resolutions…

26 Jan

 

Of course I had a blogging explosion planned for the new year.

Really. I did.

I was going to start on the first and make it a regular, daily habit. No! Really! I am serious.

What is it that “they” say about the best laid plans? And about life is what happens while you are planning on blogging and doing all sorts of healthy things in this brand new sparkling fresh year? Yeah. Those things they just gassed it up and ran me right over.

So here I am. It’s almost February. I definitely proved my own theory, at least for myself, this year that January 1st should not mark the arduous attempts to adhere to new and risky diets, epic exercise, serial dating, and quitting your job immediately because you definitely want a new one in the new year. I think the angst and the self loathing and the eventual abandonment of all of one’s best intentions in a new calendar year could be avoided and all of us could achieve more of our self-improvements if we looked at New Year’s Eve as a declaration of changes and then utilized January to do the legwork to make long term changes in our lives and have them stick.

When I finally quit smoking (years ago. That is a story for another time) I kept reminding myself what the hypnotist thing at the Ramada Inn up north told me- it takes 21 days to start a new habit or really break an old one. I remind myself of that every time I start digging my heals in, clenching my jaw until my teeth threaten to crack, and clawing at the air. I’m not good with change. In retrospect, as in way after the change happens, I’m awesome at the whole change thing and shifting gears. In the immediate moment though, and when the change is facilitated in some way by another person, yeah I’m like a cartoon cat someone is trying to put in the bathtub.

Numbers sooth me. That concept of 21 days works wonders. Other number things that help me: I can do anything for 1 year. Tomorrow is another day (specifically in x number of hours I get to start fresh).

So January has a few more than 21 days. Not a problem. That first week, for me, is used to analyze my by behaviors that triggered the issue that made me declare such a related resolution at midnight. Come on, none of us get squishy and chunky and lose our various drives- creative and otherwise- overnight, and unless someone is force feeding us deep friend candy bars on an hourly basis, there is some reason as to why we wind up where we wind up.

Last year I ripped apart the things that were stopping me from being active in my life. None of the information helped me be more active during that long and painful 365, but it did help me find the answers to try a few new ideas to manage my rheumatoid arthritis and to be in my life again. I learned that I have a genetic oops that impacts the way I should be eating and the foods that cause extreme fatigue and anemia that I must avoid, and I learned that my son has the same disorder (it’s passed along on the x chromosome) so we can hopefully guide his health future away from the various sinkholes that riddle my past. So we adjusted our pantry, our diet, and learned to make our own breads and many things that are considered staples. I identified my needs from relationships in that year and learned to speak up for myself and I learned to stop holding on and certain people are like one-off experiences and transient, rather than permanent (yet dynamic) fixtures in my life.

So here I am, on my journey, not quite skipping along, but at least I’m out of bed, somewhat alert, and hammering out a few words today.

I’ve learned to stop calling my journey “epic”, because it is just a journey with some epic portions, but as a whole it’s not as seemingly endless as the word epic would make one believe. I have learned that anything that I’m thinking of as epic is a beast of a gnarled and prickery vine, thick as a thigh, that needs to come down immediately and be put through the chipper. Chips are an entirely more manageable thing than a beastly vine. Chips I can deal with. Chips I can sort through, examine the ones that need a closer look, and then use the wood chips from all those worries to fuel bigger things in my life that need that energy.

Does that make sense? I wish I could draw better. This stuff is all very visual and graphic for me, but I can barely hold a pencil these days, so I’ll just type it as best as I can.

Anyway, so I have a pile of “chips” in front of me and I’m busy sorting them one by one. I have decided to stop putting things off because it’s time to take care of me too instead of keeping everyone else’s ducks in a row. I won’t sweep these bits off the table into a shoebox because we are expecting my mother, our appliance repair guy, or the condo people. No more. I spend so much time analyzing my communication, my behavior, so I don’t Aspie-offend anyone. Too many who should, don’t bother with patience or kindness or giving the benefit of the doubt. I’m done wasting my time trying to be nice, I’m just going to be me (which, rumor has it, is pretty nice but isn’t meek and has quite a helping of smartass).

Things have to change this year. Things are changing this year. I’m losing too much of me and that’s not ok because I finally have the me part figured out. At least, after 26 days into the testing ground of 2011, the resolution sandbox, I know that much.  I know that this year, I’m not going to lose the resolution game, as I have been training and compiling resources and I’m ready to hit the ground running for distance rather than with the spirit of a sprint.

That’s all I have got for now, folks.

Xo

B
Mean Green Mama from Outer Space

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