FFF 2-16: It’s Official…

i am officially diabetic.  Or, as I pointed out to the somewhat officious nurse practitioner who broke the news to me, i am “a person with diabetes.” That is the more person-centered language that’s preferred in health care these days.  This was after I heard her tell someone down the hall that she had “a raging diabetic” in her office.  Not raging in the sense of angry, apparently she was trying to impress on the other person just HOW egregious it was that the pharmacy had FAILED to give me a glucometer.

I thought “raging?”  Not really.  But definitely in the “over the line” category.

You know, it’s not like i didn’t know this could happen.  I’ve been “borderline” for a long time, and even inched over but was able to talk my way into deferring any action.  Like, you know, medication.  But they kept wanting me to cut sweets and carbs and exercise more and… you know.  Here i am.

CW:  I am about to talk about people with diabetes and it won’t always be very nice.  Feel free to skip to the end.

I grew up with grandparents who had diabetes, late onset, type II.  A minor refrain of “Ohhhh, I shouldn’t have any of that cake – – – –  ok, just give me a tiny piece,” ran through my childhood.  It didn’t stop them from eating a little pasta or enjoying their lives.

But for some reason, i hated it when they talked about their “sugar.”  “You know, I got to watch my sugar.”  “I think my sugar’s up.”  “I think my sugar’s down.”  I don’t know why that icked me out, but it did.

After my first divorce, i was in a relationship with someone who had “that blood sugar.”  He was about 15 years older than me, thin and wiry, but he was always talking about “I better eat ,” “I better not eat,” “I gotta watch my blood sugar.”   And pricking his finger to test his level about 12 times a day.

i mean, honestly, i didn’t mind when we were still having great sex, he could have talked about his blood sugar all day long.  But once that was a faint memory, it grated on my nerves.  It didn’t help that he blamed his lack of performance on his diabetes, when in reality he was burning out his aged libido fucking some little tootsie where he worked.  (Ooooooh, still a bit bitter i see.  Hmmm, and i thought i was truly over that.  Sorry.)

Anyhow.  Breathing…

The thing that irritated me the most was when he (ok, he had a name – we’ll call him Tom) would talk about how he better not do something because of his blood sugar.  He’d prick his finger and carefully insert the slightly bloody strip into the machine and then annouce with due gravity, “No,” shaking his head woefully, “No, I better not go, my blood sugar’s up.  I mean it’s not dangerous – yet – but I better stay here.”

“What is it?” I’d ask anxiously.  “How high is it?”

“It’s 190,” he might say, “and even though I ate about an hour ago, still, it should be a lot lower than that.”

It got so bad that I’d google the level he told me, just to see if he was likely to die or not.  I won’t make any harsh judgements here, right?  But i assure you, he is still alive and well, married to his tootsie in another state.  Living happily ever after, I mostly hope.

But – back to me – today, when the nurse showed me how to check myself.  It was 178 and she tsked and frowned just enough to let me know this wasn’t good.  But when I looked at her stupid chart?  They want me to be under 180 an hour or two after meals.  Which I WAS.  So please do not act like i’ve just busted the bank for high blood sugar.

She assured me I could still go out to eat.  Seriously.  And I was very good, I just nodded and said, “Ok, good to know.”

i have to keep frigging records – every day – and i have to bring them back to her in two weeks so she can look at them and tell me if I have to test more often.  You all.  I’m at the doctor every damn week, sometimes 2 or 3 times a week.  That’s ridiculous.  i feel like my health is being held hostage.

Ok, i know it’s my own fault, for my own good, blah, blah, blah.  I know i’m still pretty lucky in most ways, and I’m sure it will be worse before i actually die.  I know it’s not too late to make a difference.  If you are tempted to lecture or preach in your comment, please resist.  Comments with the theme “poor baby” will be most appreciated.

And here, for your entertainment, are a couple of images from google – with the prompt “raging diabetic.”


Right – the A in Diabetic is a pizza, I’m pretty sure the E is candy.  And the quote?

The three toughest fighters I ever fought were Sugar Ray Robinson, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Sugar Ray Robinson.  I fought Sugar so many times, I’m surprised I’m not diabetic. 

– Jake LaMotta

And yes.  This means i have to do better at FFF.  i already know, thanks.  🙂



Monday, Monday

After all my fine talk about FFF, and wanting to get healthy, yesterday i binged on carbs and sugar and fat like there was no such thing as obesity or Diabetes, Type II.  Yep.

I ate some healthy meals – then filled in the gaps with a vanilla milkshake with 2 shots of espresso (yes, it was delicious.)  A skinny margarita.  (Mmmhmmm, naming it a “skinny margarita” was a case of marketing genius.  i felt virtuous drinking it.)  Girl scout cookies.  (Do-Si-Dos.  A wise choice because i only bought that kind -my favorite kind.   Trefoils are my second favorite, but when I eat those, I crave Do-Si-Dos, so that’s not really a good buy.)

I woke up this morning feeling the way I did when I used to smoke cigarettes and was trying to cut down.  That morning after “oh, fuck, I overdid it again” feeling.  Ugh.

I have goals about being healthy and losing weight – and some of the choices I’m making point me in the opposite direction.    A little voice in my head that, after 3 or 4 “healthy” choices, says, “Oh, screw this, throw caution to the wind, you only live once, what’s life without a little deliciousness?”

And i like healthy food!  It’s not like i don’t.  I had a seafood omelette for breakfast that was just lovely.  So why do i feel like i’m depriving myself?

If i were my own client, i would tell myself that i might want to redefine “deliciousness” with some pleasure that doesn’t involve food.  Or drink.  You know?  Just something for me to think about.

Somehow, i need to shift my perspective so  i don’t see this as depriving myself of life’s goodness but as better meeting my needs and treating myself extra well.  Or something.  I need to spend my wild splurges on something besides calories.



Like Agnostic Zetetic Says…

I was looking for quotes related to “work” and found this lovely series of quotes from Agnostic Zetetic, whom I had never heard of.   I saw this one first and it just made me laugh.

“There is a certain loveliness, I think, to performing deep cleaning in one’s underwear on a beautiful summer day.” 
― Agnostic Zetetic

And then this:

“I was not merely cleaning an oven; I was improving the world.” 

I thought, “that’s got to be a submissive person, I can’t imagine who else would feel that way!!”

The next one

“No one has the right to demand that your body be something other than what it is.” 

made me think of FFF, and I had to remind myself that for most of us, the demand to change our bodies is internal, not from someone outside ourselves.  At the same time , I thought about Bleue, and what she wrote about her post-baby body.  How much of our desire to change is really about health, and how much is external pressure?  Only each of us can know.

And then this:

“We’re not broken. We’re not in the wrong bodies. We’re not inadequate. We’re not lesser. We’re not unwanted. We’re not fraudulent. We’re not undesirable. That’s all just a set of lies we tell to soothe the experience of the prisons we put ourselves in.” 

I wondered if Agnostic Zetetic was trans, but the quote speaks to me too.  It’s about trying to manage the dialectic – that we are all perfectly fine just the way we are – and we can all be healthier, thinner, more flexible, more of whatever we aspire to.  Both of those things are true.

Then the quotes move away from bodies and into who we are on a different level:

“Even with the very best of intentions, even with the ambition of making the world a better place, when we cast judgment upon people whose lifestyles, beliefs, or predilections we dislike, we add to the emotional filth of hostility and make the world feel a little less safe for the folks we’re genuinely trying to help.” 

I find myself thinking something like this every time I see someone on FB attacking someone’s appearance or laughing at their weight – even when it’s someone I don’t respect or hold in high regard.

“May we each find in ourselves the courage we forgot we have, to see the beauty we forgot is inside us, while battling the demons we forgot we can slay, on a battlefield we forgot we can win.” 

I think i want that one on a wall hanging, or somewhere i can see it everyday.  And i want this one for so many of my clients:

“If you’re lying to everyone you know, including yourself, at every possible turn, is a little upheaval really the worst that could happen to your life right now?” 

But THIS one speaks to me directly.

“If it’s convenient to love you, you’re lying to someone about who you are or what you need.” 

I have to sit with this one for awhile.  I think there might be some home truths for me here.  I can still here MP commenting to me casually that he appreciated that I made his life so easy.  Some might think that means I’m a good submissive, but I don’t think so, not in this case.  I think it is more about the lies Agnostic Zeretic calls out here.

There are more quotes i liked but I will save them for another time.

Agnostic Zetetic does indeed appears to be a slave, and probably trans.  They once had a blog, but it’s password protected and apparently hasn’t been used since February 2015.  They’ve written one book:  Pinocchio’s First Time, which bills itself as Trans Erotica.  I can find very little about them – and am using the gender neutral “they/them” just because I don’t know what pronouns they preferred.

But the quotes don’t come from the book, which is the shortest one I’ve seen on Amazon.  So I don’t know where the quotes come from – you can find them on Goodreads quotes, but they’re not attributed to anything.  The book does have at least one quote – the last one I’ll share here.  It’s in the first few paragraphs of the book, where’s it’s quickly established that they’re tied up and being played with by someone who is “gorgeous, slender, nuanced.”  Someone who “made my brain shudder and my body follow suit.”  Then this:

“It’s for your own good, boy. Take the pain, and grow with it. You can’t be any better than you are now without some growing pains.” His voice was gentle, as though he actually had some semblance of mercy deep down inside of him. 

The promise of those words is so powerful for me.

FFF – 2-9

I was reading Vesta’s submission – she was talking about her husband.

“What I have noticed is that as my husband became immersed in the body form, in his own body form, a sense of space quietly began to be lost, like air being sucked out of a blow up swimming pool that has developed a small puncture.

As conversation reduced to talk of salt, and the evils of sugar, the benefits of magnesium and calcium, there was less and less room for a sense of sacred union. Anxiousness about the body form, about survival I guess, or perhaps preoccupations with wellness, took over the space and left not enough room for touch, togetherness, a sense of being spiritually alive.

With nearly every comment he makes of this sort, and his insistence that I give my heartfelt agreement, I feel further removed…”

I’ve been doing a bunch of medical appointments this year – i’ve named it “The Year of the Doctor.”  For the last 3 – 4 years, i had really only gone to the doctor if I was sick.  Once to get my blood pressure meds, but not again.  Not for a mammogram.  Not for a colonoscopy.  Not for the follow-up blood-work they wanted me to do  Not for any of that.

This year, I’m doing all the things.  Colonoscopy – check.  Mammogram – coming up.  Problem with my foot – working on it.  But i can see how easy it would be to get caught up in all of this physical stuff.  The more I do, the more they want me to do.  I’ve gone from lab work once a year to lab work every 3 months – to make sure my kidneys are still working, because of the blood pressure meds I’m on now, to make sure my blood pressure is perfect.  I’ll get another shot in my foot today.   If that doesn’t work, we’re looking at more invasive procedures.  I’ve got follow-ups and check-ins – this week, I had three doctor appointments.  That’s insane.

So I can see how easy it would be to get caught up in this stuff to the point that if someone says, “How ya doing?” i might find myself responding, “Well, they just about got my blood pressure down to what they want it to be, and my foot’s doing a lot better, even though I still can’t wear heels, and …”

I”m doing some proactive work on Alzheimer’s too.  Not that I have Alzheimers, or any form of dementia at the moment, but it runs in my family.  The women in my family live a long time, and most of them end up losing their minds long before they die.  I would prefer not to do that.

My mother was really smart.  So she was able to cover up the difficulty she was having pretty successfully for so many years that by the time we – my sister and I – realized what was happening – it had already happened.  She couldn’t take medication for it not only because she couldn’t remember to take it, but she couldn’t remember what she was taking it for or that she’d agreed to it.  There’s a lot of stigma and shame about losing your memory, but pretending you’re fine is not really a good solution.

I am still fine -but I’ve had this weird memory quirk with using the wrong word that seemed different to me.  So we’ve done some checking – an MRI, mostly – and next week I’m going to take a test of cognitive abilities which will at least give us a baseline of where I am now.

I don’t intend to thwart death, but the progression of Alzheimer’s can be slowed if you catch it early.  I’d like that to be me.  And I think that talking about it – here and other places – is one way I can begin to reduce the stigma and shame around it.

Now, as for the rest of that FFF stuff, I met my exercise and dance goals, didn’t lose an ounce, didn’t count calories, and didn’t organize a damn thing.  Man.  I’m living a one-star life.   I did go to the beach, and walked in the calming air of the ocean, waves breaking just a few feet away, wind beating at me, feeling that immediate sense of well-being the ocean brings me.  I ate less a couple of days, applied for a loan to buy a house, and am using my Dragontree journal!!   And it’s ok.  It’s a new week.  We’ll try again.




Sharing stories

Sometimes i share things here just because it’s something i wouldn’t talk about anywhere else.  For example:

CN:  Dental issues

Wednesday night, i cracked a tooth.  Ok, it might be a crown, but in any case, it cracked. It didn’t come out or anything, it just cracked and any pressure on it feels like it is going to finish falling apart and that would be bad.  So you might think that i called the dentist and took off work Thursday to take care of it.

But no.  i did not do that.  i needed to go out of town for a meeting that i didn’t think i could reschedule any time soon, the tooth wasn’t bothering me, and i figured i’d get it taken care of Friday.

Only i forgot my dentist is closed on Friday.  And i didn’t want to go to an emergency dentist because they cost a fortune.  So i decided it could wait til Monday – only my dentist couldn’t actually get me in on Monday, so here it is Tuesday, and i finally have an appointment this morning.

But in the meantime, i’ve been limited to soft, easy to chew, non-crunchy food.  There’s still no pain, i just have to eat really slowly and carefully.  Even as i write this, i’m waiting for some cereal to get soggy.  (It’s Quaker Oat Squares, and i’m wondering if they’ll ever lose their crunch.)

It’s been interesting.  Apparently, i can be satisfied with much less food than i had thought and still feel good.  Apparently, when i eat slowly and carefully, i appreciate my food more.  It is, after all, a version of eating mindfully.  And apparently if i eat less – wait for it – drum roll –  i actually lose weight!!

Two or three pounds so far.


So there’s the silver lining to the cracked tooth or crown.  The real question is whether i can maintain the pattern, even to some extent, once my tooth is fixed. Right now, it seems easy, but once i am able to enjoy the crunch of Doritos again?  Can i sustain this life change?

Who knows?  Only time will tell…  Stay tuned as our heroine faces new challenges every day…

(P.S. Apparently Quaker Oat Squares actually never completely lose their crunch.  How can that be???)

In Contrast

i actually have one more post of Training finished, but i’m waiting til tomorrow for that.  i can’t resist posting this:


i saw that posted on Facebook by a lovely Dominant woman i know, and i was so delighted i just laughed out loud.

And for just a minute, i envision eating Doritos and onion dip, and going to a kink event all by myself, far away from Where-i-Live.   Not at the same time, of course.  The Doritos and dip, i could do tomorrow, the kink event would have to wait.

i’ve been thinking about my relationship with food though.  MP and i went out for dinner tonight, and had a nice meal.  i ate reasonably – a small piece of salmon, some asparagus and a baked potato.   And i would have been fine.  BUT it was free pie night!

Yes.  Free pie.

And suddenly, it was essential that i get my piece of free pie.  What the hell was that about?  i mean really.  It’s not like i couldn’t afford to buy my own damn piece of pie if that was what i wanted.  But it suddenly became important to have it.

Shrug.  Fuck it.

It wasn’t great pie, so that was sad.  But it wasn’t half bad either, and i didn’t come home and continue eating  because i felt guilty, so fuck it.  And then i saw the meme my friend posted and just laughed.

And yes, i am apparently becoming the crazy food blog lady.  Here’s what my piece of pie looked like:


It was pretty lovely..  Not sure if it tasted as good as skinny feels – they say nothing does  – but it was a close second.

i  think that i think that if i quit indulging my food whims that i’ll be a dried up (skinny) old hag who’s no fun. But i don’t think that’s factual, i think it just feels true.   i need to find my way into a space in my head that recognizes that impulsive eating is not the only road to joy.

Oh, wait, no sex, no kink, no submission, no cigarettes, no drugs… maybe food is all that’s left.   (Not that i want cigarettes or drugs, but still…)

Ok, no, i know that’s really not the way it is.  No, it isn’t.  But somehow i get caught up in that thinking – that it’s either fun and food or no food and no fun.  And i start feeling guilty and awful for not knowing better.

Then i remember that it’s not just me struggling with this, it’s half the people in our society.  At least half.  And the media sends us really fucked up messages about food and fat because they’re all about consumerism.  So i need to step away from that crap, in my head.

i’m looking for a way out of the compulsions, right?  And really i know the way – it’s being mindful, sitting with the urge rather than acting on it.  But knowing and doing are sometimes very far apart.  If that weren’t true, the world would be a very different place.



Sunday Check-in; 5-1-16

Whoa, another week gone by, another check-in, another general lack of any progress in any area.


No increase in exercise, and no weight loss and i didn’t do stuff i thought about doing that would have been fun and good for me.  i did some binge eating and read two books from the Masters of The Castle series, which is a lot like candy for the brain.

i did some work stuff effectively, and dug myself out of an emotional pit that had captured me.  i was not as productive as i would have liked.  i blogged here every day, but no where else.

i felt a lot of sadness about my relationship with MP.  It’s like living with a dear friend who’s not in good health.  i love him, and don’t want to end our relationship, and i still want the things i thought we were going to have which proved elusive.  He is not able to give me those things.  A Gordian knot to untangle.

In other news – today is May 1, May Day, or Beltane.

Beltane kicks off the merry month of May, and has a long history. This fire festival is celebrated on May 1 with bonfires, Maypoles, dancing, and lots of good old fashioned sexual energy. The Celts honored the fertility of the gods with gifts and offerings, sometimes including animal or human sacrifice”.

i found so many images to share:


And then i saw this – suggestions of how to create your own Beltane ritual.  This is one with a focus on Honoring the Sacred Feminine with a Goddess Ritual.  It starts with decorating your altar – and i have an altar, of sorts, i just haven’t used it in a long time, and it’s not set up at all anymore and MP’s dirty clothes baskets are taking up a lot of space around it.  So i have some work to do just to get started.

In the ritual, i would start with a prayer to the Four Directions, which i have not done in a very long time.  Then i would call on the goddesses – Isis and Ishtar and others who i don’t know, adding Hecate to the list they suggest.   Hecate – goddess of journeys – is mine, the one that resonates with me, the one i follow.

The ritual goes on to name and honor the women in my life who have touched me, and that’s a long list.  Finally, naming myself and honoring the mysterious and sacred feminine that flows through me – and through you too, even if you are male, because feminine energy is within all of us.

Just thinking about doing it feels good, and i need to figure out where in this house i can carve out some space just for myself.  i have clutter and crap i need to get rid of, and MP has even more than i do.  But today i need to not get overwhelmed with doing the whole house, i just need to find some sacred space for myself.

Your sacred space is where you can

find yourself again and again.

~~ Joseph Campbell