There were things bought when I was visiting my mom and sibs. I spent more money than I expected there and for the month (I bought games prepatory to to help me calm down to go). But I needed (and still need a few items) clothes. One would think, the way my mom wouldn't stop talking about my weight loss than she'd do the bunch of buying - but 1) not so much and 2) the bulk of things she held up for me when we did go shopping together? I didn't like or I found too big for me just looking at it.
It was kind of bizarre, how what I bought for myself, she kept telling me to get a smaller size. But things she picked up to show me, didn't work with either my style or my sense of my body shape.
Meanwhile I was trying to take deep breaths for every comment on my size, my waist, my health and energy levels, what I ate. That last bit is non ha ha funny. because unlike Thanksgiving there were several times there was nothing in the house for me to eat. Times when things got bought and brought to the house I couldn't eat. The odd circumstance of being in a car filled with people nomming on Burger King and I'm sipping water. And my mom's apologising to me for it and it's just awkward and I spent a lot of time wishing they'd just not make a big deal over the fact I couldn't eat what they did and also wishing they'd REMEMBER what I couldn't eat.
I had at least one allergic reaction and one meal I couldn't touch cause they forgot and added capsacin pepper.
Meanwhile my sister thinks I'm girly for wearing skirts. And I felt caught in a strange; I like what I like. I don't think of it as girly or not girly. I like certain fits and I like certain pretty things and maybe my tastes have been modified by what's been available in my previous size - I don't know. I'm focused on comfort these days and things that make me smile when I'm wearing them either and I don't necessarily note the smile inducing is associated with something 'boyish' or 'girlish'.
Among other things? We ended up 'The Walking Company'. Teal deer - my sister needs chiropractic adjustments to her back and arch support. I ended up picking up very expensive non podiatrist arch supports and now am pondering getting a referral TO an podiatrist, because the budget blowing purchase? Led to me standing up straighter, walking easier (in fact raising the height of my cane) and reducing hip pain by 53%. I was able to walk about in a MALL, with a summer storm on the horizon and the barometric pressure up the wahzoo at near NYC speeds. I almost felt like myself again, like I knew my body. So now I have all sorts of thinky pondering thoughts about alignment and foot problems etc... And the long ass search for a PCP.
Even before the supports - I was able to leave the house every day I was there to go out shopping and do stuff for hours. I know part of it is that if I felt ill, the car was RIGHT THERE. I had a private place to go sit down and not have to worry how to get home. But it's also boosted my spirits somewhat to know how much better I'm doing on my thyroid medications. That I have more spoons these days than I'd realized. More physical spoons at least. I needed yesterday to try and recover some emotional ones.
Meanwhile I might ponder cheaper shoe support/arch supports. It could mean less expensive shoes, balanced by something keeping me in alignment (that could be put in other shoes) and a spreading around of my funds. Which I'd appreciate.
And I'll be pondering the wardrobe my sister and mother claim is FAR TOO BIG - which I thought was only a 'little loose'.
And this fact actually makes me sad. It feels like the conversations I used to follow and sometimes even be a part of, have moved to tumblr. But everytime I look at Tumblr (after attempting to set up an account, becoming thoroughly confused and hating it) I get this weird feeling in my stomach. All my feelings of that frustration come back and added to it are all these thoughts of 'Who owns your words on tumblr?' and 'How do you control your space'? Of course, given that I couldn't understand the... dashbord?, how would I fathom controlling the space.
I hesitate to stick my nose back in there though, even though I want to puddle around the conversation. Cause man, I loathe feeling as if, on my worse brain says, I wouldn't be able to even poke a stick at what is a medium of communication.
Then again, maybe the conversatons would stress me out, give me a headache, and it's a good thing I have one less medium to try and filter into my information streamload.