The High Cost of Fuel

Just like gas prices, the energy demands on a person have never been higher.

The school year is over and it is summer break for me as a teacher. I have no other way to explain how I feel except that I am out of gas, energetically speaking. The tank is empty. As life would have it, I was also literally out of fuel on the last day of school. I had to fill up my tank. I had heard that Costco had the cheapest gas prices so I went there. It still cost me over $100 to fill up my tank. I don’t know that I’ve ever paid over $100 for a full tank of gas before. It was a little shocking and made me think twice about where I would drive and how far I would go with these prices.

My answer, for the most part, has been to give it a rest. I have been giving my car a rest and not driving many places, and I have been giving myself a rest by not doing many things. It has been a little less than a week since I’ve not been working and I still feel empty. Today, as I was drinking coffee and trying to figure out how to fuel up to get done what I wanted and needed to get done today I realized that I’m not sure how to fuel up.

This year at work, I had never worked so hard for so long on a nearly empty tank. I’m not sure I ever filled up. It was like every night I put just enough fuel in to get me through the next day. I didn’t have a quarter of a tank let alone a half or full tank. The energy I was putting out did not equal the energy I was putting back in. I honestly tried but I didn’t have that ability to put more in my tank than what felt like a few dollars a day.

I know that some can relate with the gas prices as they are right now. Some people will tell you, hurry up and fill up now while gas is under $5/gallon but you only have $10 to put in the tank that day. The day you get paid the prices have risen and you get less for your money. It is a cycle and you can’t get out because you only have enough to survive.

I’ve been in the pace of living paycheck to paycheck and the stress is overwhelming. You feel like you will never get ahead and that you can never take a break to breathe or fuel/save up. It is just the daily grind of getting just enough. That is how I felt energetically this year. Does it matter who is to blame for the prices of fuel being so high? Is there one thing in particular that is causing it? To be honest, I’m too tired to find out about why gas prices are too high right now. If I’m honest, I know it is probably many factors and one of them is that big systems profit and individuals suffer. Well, don’t I know how that feels being a teacher? The system will require all that I have to give and more without any thought to how it affects me personally.

One of my survival instincts is to go along to get along. I want to be good, perfect, give my all, and help no matter what. I think it can be a very good quality to have. I have a lot of care and concern for others and want to help them. I can get caught up in this way of living, and working, at my own expense. I will give you gas from my tank because you tell me you need it. I will give it to your family because they need it too. I will give it to the next person because well, I’ve got a quarter of a tank and you tell me your fuel light its on. Surely I have the heart to give from my stores for you. As long as I have a drop or a fume left, I feel I have an obligation to share it with you if you need it.

This year, there was no shortage of me giving of myself thinking others needed my time, energy, problem solving skills, help, and support more than I did. I passed out my fuel all willy nilly. I put $5 in the tank every night just to give out $9 in gas to everyone else. I was running on fumes daily and acting like I had a full tank for the taking. I wanted to blame everyone else for this problem. I wanted someone to notice and say that it wasn’t fair and offer to fill me up with fuel. The problem was I was surrounded by so many who were also on empty and had no ability to fill anyone up. Also, it isn’t supposed to work that way.

The problem is actually in my thinking. The way that I think is learned trauma induced codependency, over-responsibility to others, and weak boundaries. Many would not think that this is a problem, mostly because it is of great benefit to them if I continue living my life this way. I’m Costco on sale. I have super low prices on fuel, in fact, I’m losing myself by not charging enough for my time, energy, or expertise. Is that anyone else’s fault? Maybe. Can I control anyone else? Can I change an entire broken system? Can I change a world that expects me to be the cheapest place in town for fuel? No.

I did realize last week that I can only control me. I set my prices. I’m in charge of my fuel tank, my energy reserves. I recognize that I am on empty at the moment. I am realizing that there is no quick trip to repair how I have lived this year. There is no quick fill up and even if there was, I don’t have the means to fill up all at once right now. I am going to work on accepting my energy level as it is right now. I am going to work on accepting what happened and what I allowed this year, personally and professionally. I am going to work on resting even when that is in direct opposition to what I want to do and what the world seems to be doing at the beginning of summer. I am going to really look at my fuel prices and the value of what I have to offer versus what I charge or give away for free. I am going to take a hard look at what energy I save for those I love most. They (myself included) deserve the best of me, not what is left over.

My first thought is to go straight into major changes and big moves. I do not, however, have the energy for big moves and major changes. I need to start with the things in my ability and energy level that I can change. The first is to think of boundaries I need around my tank. I must exercise my “no” muscle. That includes doing more work or committing to more work than I have energy for. It includes asking for help. I need to surround myself with people who are able to fill their own tanks and not those walking around with siphons ready to attach themselves to my tank. I need to ignore the ridiculous notion that just because it is summer I have to be busy and do all of the summer things or I’m wasting my “summer off”.

Looking to the future, I need to decide how will I protect my energy no matter who is around me and how badly they need fuel. I need to realize that giving away what I need for myself isn’t loving to anyone. I need to realize that a big organization will gladly suck an individual dry to keep itself running and decide how much I let them take from me before I say no more.

My prices will be going up on my energy. Not because I don’t care but because I do. I care about myself. If I don’t care about me, no one will. I have to look for the things and people who help fill my tank up without also giving what they don’t have. Resourced people are hard to find these days but I want to be one of them. I want to put out the closed sign when I’m running low and not put the open sign back up until I have ample reserve.

So if you see me this summer, staring at a sunset, putting my feet in the water, drinking coffee or reading a book, leave me alone. Do not ask me to stop doing those mundane, easy, beautiful things in service of you or a system. Mind your business. I am filling up. I am toning my muscles. I am getting larger and better. If I tell you no, it is out of love, self love. We all need to respect that more. If you ask me to drive a long way, you better have fuel where I’m headed because gas prices are too high right now for empty trips. Miss me with your urgency or your desperation. I am on E and my low fuel light is on. I’m aware that there is no finger to point except at myself, so I have personal work to do. Yelling at the system won’t help, but refusing to take my normal place in the system does have an impact. This won’t be easy, I’m asking for grace. May you have it too.

Taking Care of Myself

It has been a long road to learn how to take good care of myself.

I used to love this picture. I thought I looked amazing. I had done one year of weight watchers and had gotten to my goal weight of 130 lbs. I had actually gone below it when this photo was taken. My size 6 jeans were baggy and my goal had been to get to an 8. When I looked at this photo and the others that were taken, I thought, I did it! I was healthy and thin. Well one of those things was true. I was thin.

I was not healthy in most ways. Weight Watchers had taught me a lot about portions, good fats, drinking enough water, etc. but I was also using sugar substitutes, starving myself if I wanted to have birthday cake that night, and obsessing over everything I put in my mouth. I was not really exercising just restricting my food. Yes I learned some things about cooking and eating healthier, I was also super annoying about where I ate and what and cried a lot because I wouldn’t allow myself to eat what I wanted.

At this time I was also living with chronic pain. I had lower back and abdominal cramping and pain daily. I sat with a heating pad on my mid section on most days and had a lot of stomach issues. Turns out I had a cyst on my ovary that was very angry and endometriosis. It took many months of me getting ultrasounds, images taken of my mid-section, etc. for this to be diagnosed. My periods were unbearable and heavy and I was miserable most of the time.

So I had surgery to remove the cyst one week before this picture was taken. SURGERY-to remove a part of my body. I remember asking the doctor if I could travel because we had planned to drive to St. Louis Missouri for thanksgiving to be with family. I remember the doctor looking at me strangely and saying “you can if you want to”. It had not occurred to me that we wouldn’t. One week was enough. I could do this. I could rally.

My restrictions were that I had to rest, not drive, not lift anything heavy, and not do stairs or do anything strenuous like sweeping, vacuuming, or carrying laundry baskets up stairs. I allowed myself two days of rest. I slept in a chair and let others care for myself and my children. After that I started testing and pushing what I was supposed to do. I started doing housework, I was going up and down the stairs, etc.

Less than a week after surgery, we were in the car headed to St. Louis. I was in a lot of pain. I couldn’t take the pain meds the doctor gave me because they made me dizzy and nauseous. So I had my heating pad, my pillows and my Advil. I was supposed to wear loose fitting clothing. Nothing like jeans that could pull at or irritate my stitches.

The first time I really broke the rules my doctor gave me was at a rest stop on the way when I lifted my two year old daughter onto the toilet. I felt immediate pain and regretted it. But I thought, what am I going to do? She cannot reach the toilet herself. It never occurred to me to ask my other child to help or to have her go with my husband.

This continued. We were potty training twin two year olds. I lifted them on and off the toilet that whole trip. And I was in pain and I was bleeding more than I should have been because of it. Also that trip, I did not rest. I went to a park, a children’s museum, out to eat, and to get family pictures taken. Just before this picture was taken, I had taken my child to the bathroom, which meant I lifted her up. I had started bleeding an alarming amount in the bathroom but just doubled up on pads and vowed to take it easy.

I lied to myself. I wore jeans, I got onto and off of the ground posing for family pictures, I lifted up and held my children for cute pictures and totally threw my body under the bus. And I can guarantee you that I did not rest after.

When I got home after that trip, I was worse off than before I went. I wasn’t healing. How could I? On top of that we found out that the ovary they removed during surgery was the only one I had. I was thrown into menopause and was told I would need to be on hormone replacement therapy for the next 20-30 years of my life.

My body did not know what to do with this new information. I was in pain, bleeding, depressed, having mood swings, hot flashes, insomnia, memory problems, foggy brain, zero sex-drive, and no idea how to live in the body and brain I just inherited.

Needless to say, that was a rough year. I’m just now starting to forgive myself for how I treated my self and my body that year. I hated it and abused it. I fought against it, didn’t listen to it and pushed it to its limits.

A few years later, I would find myself at the bottom of a pit of depression that would threaten my quality of life in a very real way. Years of neglecting to take care of myself, maybe even a lifetime of it, had caught up to me.

I got help. Doctors, medications, therapists, friends, family, and God, all had a part in helping me out of that hole. Sometimes years have to pass before we can see and know what was really going on. I used to look at these pictures and long for that body, that hair, that skin but now I look at it and am grateful not to be her anymore.

I often think that I would give anything to be a size 6 again and to have a smaller body, but would I? Would I want to go back to crying in restaurants because everyone else ordered yummy food and I was eating another salad with fat free dressing? Would I want to go back to beating my body into submission and pumping it full of artificial sweeteners and Diet Coke? To forcing it past it’s limits and ignoring its signs that I was doing damage?

No. I’ll take this.

Me. In a pants size I4-18 depending on the store. Me, smiling because I’m really happy. Me, having eaten pizza with my family and not cried in my salad. Who was that tiny little body for? Me? I’d rather have this one than the abuse and neglect that came with the old one. This one is filled up with love, laughter, sadness, and healing. It is warm and comforting to my children because at the end of the day, it has been listened to and cared for and loved-filled up so it can give out. It is aware of its limits and it is rested.

I am writing this post mostly for me. So I can come back and read the truth every time I want to look back at that first picture with envy, with longing, and with self-shame that my body doesn’t look like that anymore. I need to remember the pain that came with that body. Because I have moments when I hate this body I’m in. When I cry in Dunhams because I cannot zip the extra large ski jacket around my hips and I wish for a smaller body. That little body was a wrapping over an ugly truth. My largeness of spirit and love I have now is requiring a different package. Maybe someday I’ll have both. A fit and trim body that is covering a huge, healthy, and radically loved soul. Maybe not. But for now, I’m doing my best to live in the truth. And the truth is that I’ve never taken better care of myself. I’ve never listened to my body more. I’ve never been happier with the level of care and attention I give myself in a physical, emotional, spiritual, intellectual, and creative way.

So I guess my last thought for those of you reading this would be, ask yourself what picture of me is more acceptable to you? If it is still the skinny me-why? Why after knowing the truth of the level of abuse you know I went through within myself is that still what you would rather me be than what I am? And finally, what do you do to yourself to make yourself acceptable to you and others?

Be kind. Love yourself. Take care.