I believe that it’s honest to say that I have successfully changed my eating habits permanently. I am a touch proud to say so because I had let my addiction to sweets rule my life and my body paid the price. My doctor told me when I was called into the clinic, that I was pre-diabetic. I couldn’t believe it. I never eat sweets now, except very rarely when I go out for dinner with friends.
I stopped eating sweets on August 7th, so hearing that I’m pre-diabetic was shocking. The doctor spoke to me assuming I ate a lot of processed foods, but I don’t. I make almost everything, including my sauces and dressings, from scratch. I’ll be more diligent henceforth. The high cholesterol is likely due to my passion for prawns, shrimp, and scallops. That is going to stop even though I’m now on a new medication.
I like my new way of eating. I am never hungry, but whenever I eat, I consume very small or small servings. Only dinner is a normal-size portion, still I am very conscious of serving size. I’ve cut pasta from my meals and that’s a big change. In the past, I ate pasta, and lots of it, every night for months on end.
One thing I’m going to have to watch is how much coconut milk I consume. I’ve become a big consumer of it because I make a batch of laksa often. But that may change. I won’t however, abandon my love of Asian meals. Last night I had chicken; I hadn’t bought or eaten any for probably six months.
Thankfully, the heavy rain slowed by 8:30, and so Her Highness and I were able to walk the flooded trail #6 in the 707 Park. We came right home under very dark sky to bask in the heat of the fire. I kept busy all morning doing chores. I’ve tidied and re-organized my pantry and started cleaning the fridge. I will finish the fridge today and start on the hall cupboard after I’m done.
Much to my amazement, the sun came out just before noon, so after lunch we went to Elder Cedar to walk the circuit. I’m sick of limping and I’m sick of the pain in my foot, and the worst part is that it is never going to get better. Jennifer said that she was going to send me to someone who would give me a shot of a steroid in my heel, but so far, I’ve heard nothing.
When we got home, I did more work on the fridge. It feels so, so good to open the fridge door now and see pristine glass shelves and all my food looking clean and neat. To reward myself for all the cleaning and tidying of the day, I subscribed to Mubi—actually, to the seven-day free trial—so that I could watch The History of Sound last night. It stars the impossibly desirable Paul Mescal and Josh O’Conner whom I also fell for when he was playing Lawrence Durrell in The Durrells in Corfu.
And what a movie! It began as a short story bearing the same name, published in The Common, the literary journal of Amherst College. I know this, because I looked it up on Wikipedia. And why did I look it up? Because the screenplay is everything in this movie. The actors, therefore, had the enormous challenge of making a script that is profoundly literary, feel like true and honest speech for their characters.
It's about love, in this case, love between two men who meet through their passion for folk music. The soundtrack is full of beautiful, acoustically performed folk songs, and the movie ends with the protagonist explaining his love of folk-music, and it is a beautiful testimonial to hear.
It’s certainly not for everyone. How can it be when it’s about two men in love? The gay aspect of the film is almost incidental, but it’s where all the emotional force of the film comes from. But … the film is just as much about the writing and the music. It’s two hours of heavenly storytelling, of escape from our fucked up world, and engagement with a powerful movie about forbidden love and folk music.
It's streaming on Mubi, and you get a week free if you buy a subscription. I signed up and I’ll cancel my subscription before the week is up. I do this often.
And then bedtime. How I love sleeping! I’ve become very, very good at it since my breakdown. I regularly sleep seven hours a night. Pre-breakdown, I only slept for four hours a night for twenty-five years, and I was never tired. Last night, with the skies so clear, the stars were spectacular, and I had a long look at them before climbing into a nice warm bed.
Pictures say a thousand words. I have many other photos of Steve like this, all in different getups. Whenever he goes out, he dresses up ‘appropriately.’ What they all have in common is an extreme “look at me” factor. I moved here to live where there was the least possible stimulation. We were doomed from the start. We broke on the night of a party which I did not want to attend. It made Steve mad, and he announced that he was leaving me.
Two friends of 52 years dumped me. They denied my diagnosis, ridiculed my doctor and psychiatry, and Franny has rejected three tries from me to reconcile. She asked me what was wrong with me, and I told her what my diagnoses were. Then Franny asked me why I got these diseases, and I told her about being neglected, and off they went.
It was so sudden and vicious, I didn’t know what to say. I don’t even remember if I could speak. I usually can’t if there’s anger around. But when I told her about my diagnosis, she asked, “And you believe her?” She didn’t! She felt she knew better than Dr. S. what was wrong with me, and it hurt to hear a friend speak about me the way she did. But her question made me think.
When Dr. Shoja told me her thesis about me, it shocked me. My next appointment was two weeks away, so I had time to think and formulate questions. But I didn’t have to think much. I believed her thesis. However, I’m glad I questioned it a second time when old bitchface asked it of me with disdain.
The passing of time has allowed me to realize that many things I remember from my life with Steve, before, and since, reinforce my faith in Dr. Shoja’s theses.
One of the worst things ever in my life was my surprise 50th birthday party. The collected crowd gathered around to watch me open the incredibly wonderful present they had bought me collectively, and all they saw was pain on my face and me rubbing the back of my head. I mumbled some kind of gratitude and fled to my bedroom after only a few words.
I couldn’t handle everyone looking at me. I felt like I was against a wall and that all my friends were a firing squad. I felt intense pain in my head and physical agony through my body. That’s why I fled the room. I’m the polar opposite of my beloved Steve. He loves attention, and attention is anathema to me. We failed as a couple, but we are first rate friends to each other, and we will be forever.
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Today has dawned bright, sunny and cold (5°). We are going for an early walk together, then I will leave her here and go into the village to meet Kelly for breakfast. Later this afternoon, we will walk with Eoin and François. It’s My Day; all will go well.
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