Dear Pancreas:

Contrary to popular belief, I have not been destroyed by your minions. This battle isn't over yet.


Thursday, June 23, 2011

Meal time.

If you want to discuss issues you discuss them at the table.
During a meal.
So every meal looms with some back corner problem waiting to ruin everything.

Today, was one of those meals.
Another one of those "You're not exercising enough" meals.
Another one of those "You aren't going to be able to do your future job as a nurse because you're not exercising" meals.

No other sibling, with the exception of possibly my brother, confronts persistent critical comments like me-- and maybe that's why we rarely see my brother. Maybe he just doesn't want to "go there" any more.

In this conversation, somehow, telling me that I would have to work at Target if I couldn't do my nursing program was supposed to inspire me to do more and more ankle exercises...

And then we slip into another one of these pointless conversations which goes around and around with me trying to point out that I am struggling with things and with them suggesting I can just "fix it" with a sticky note.

If it was that easy, I would have to buy stock in sticky notes.

I don't really want to type what came out of this discussion because it makes me both sad and angry at the same time.  Certain parties are angry, and per cue everyone vanished to different parts of the house... so that we can sweep this under the rug until the next meal and the next meal and the next, until I want to starve myself because I just want to enjoy my meal without being reminded about how many things I am doing wrong.