Kitty Chat

Well, I learned a new word the other day. ‘Panniculus’, which is the fold or drape of skin that obese people have over their bellies. What I call a Fanny Pack or Bum Bag. What I have. If you have one of these, it means you are obese or have been in the past. So don’t try hiding your girth under yards and yards of flowing black clothing. Black does not make you look thin. Black just makes you look depressed… and fat.

A Panniculus is found after gravity has its wonton way with your fat abdomen, if you are not keeping the stomach muscles developed, that it. It is also, apparently, more prevalent in women but is found in very obese men as well. I won’t discuss some of what I read because it makes me ill, but it had to do with odour, dead skin cells and hygiene… you can put them together in your own mind. Mine has gotten a lot smaller so much so it doesn’t ‘fold over’ anymore, but it is still there. (God Kitty… that was a visual which we didn’t need.) Nevertheless, my panniculus is getting smaller. The only way to get rid of it completely, apparently, is to continue doing my exercises and continue losing weight. I have to lower my body fat to a certain level in order for it to disappear. Won’t I need a tummy tuck? No, I just have to loose enough weight. “You don’t see panniculi in concentration camp victims, do you?” was the rather harsh comparison I read on some website. Oh great, I really do need to turn into an x-ray...

Well, bollocks to that.

Here is what I have found on it: Abdominal Panniculectomy is the medical term for the surgical removal of excess abdominal panniculus which in lay term is called the "apron"; that redundant layer of fat tissue at the lowest portion of the abdominal wall. Because fat distribution is never even in all individuals, some people with obesity have significant deposit of fat at this most dependent part of the abdominal wall which further aggravates the various complications associated with obesity especially back and joint pain.

The "apron" (abdominal panniculus) in an obese individual may weigh as little as 5 pounds, or as much as 120 pounds. The largest abdominal panniculus removed at the Center for Surgical Treatment of Obesity weighed 110 pounds. The excess "apron" is part and parcel of the problem of obesity. The lay term for an abdominal panniculectomy is "TUMMY-TUCK surgery", which may unintentionally belittle the problem as merely cosmetic in nature.

I am at 79kg right now. My Lowry stick-thin Cardiologist wants me down to 60kg. I think 65 is plenty thin. 65kg would be 143 pounds or 10 stones 3 pounds. Geez, last time I was that thin, was back in ’84-’85 and I was wearing a size 8 dress. Any thinner than 65kg and my boobs will completely disappear.

On the other hand… I could have a tummy tuck and liposuction; have my arse done as well. And thighs. And hips. Ah hell, while you got me under the general anaesthesia, just do a job lot, will ya? Nip and tuck it all.

I am serious I hope you know. Apparently, you can go to Portugal for two weeks and come back completely overhauled.

And why not if it makes you happy, right?

OK, so don’t all shout at once, “But you are fine just the way you are, Kitty! You should be happy with yourself the way you are!”

I am happy with myself. I have a (fairly) good self-image and I certainly think I look miles better now than I did even just 12 short months ago. I can stand naked, look at myself in the mirror, and not wince. (As long as I am not wearing a thong…) I could even allow other people to look at me naked… but I am not going to go that far down the self-confidence boulevard.

Hmmm… so, what is it? What is this need I have developed lately and quite suddenly to become all glam and attractive? I suppose in no small way it is because I keep remembering my last date I had (with a man) back in April. I say ‘with a man’ because I am going out all the time with women friends, see. No, this was a proper date with a very sweet member of the opposite sex and even involved kissing and stuff. OK, not much ‘stuff’, but there was kissing involved. Right. ONE date, then a text message to say, ‘I had a lovely time’…and then he never contacted me again. Ouch... Let us now observe Kitty’s poise and feelings of self-worth take a killing in a rather bullish market. Finally some two months later or so, I did eventually phone him (withholding my number so he didn’t know it was me, as you do) and he said he was sorry, he had behaved like a pig (no argument here, mate) because he had had a lovely time (yes, I know) and something about ‘keeping in touch’… (Oh please, just cut bait, will ya?) My bullpoop alarm went off really loud and clear on that one remark.

Why do we women emotionally invest so much in a ‘potential’ relationship? Alright then, why do I do it? Is it because I am lonely? Am I hoping that by finding a diversion this will mean that I do not have to look at what is really bothering me? Is it misplaced revenge against the men who have dumped me in my past? I don’t know really and truthfully, I guess I will just have to keep picking at this emotional scab; it is certainly one that will never heal.

On the other hand, if I do go down the ‘nip-and-tuck’ route (but staying this side of getting ‘trout-lips’ like Melanie Griffiths or Leslie Ash from 'Men Behaving Badly'.) If I do have a complete over haul, I run the risk of becoming drop-dead gorgeous with a fantastic body, etc., but still being just as alone, just as ignored, just as passed over for dates on a Friday night. (OK, so I am not making myself even remotely available at the moment but work with me on this one…) I know that is a lot to do with why I stayed so fat for so long. I could lie to myself and say, ‘Men don’t find me attractive because I am fat. IF I were thin, men would be falling over themselves to date me.’ I didn’t want to look at the possibility that men didn’t want to date me because I wasn’t, well, fancy-able? Wasn’t ‘good enough’ for a second date. Perhaps that I was of the calibre that they could see me once and then never call again? I never wanted to consider until now that it is actually some flaw, some defect or some failing in my character or personality that is what has caused the lack of ‘suitable men suitors’. Well, might as well call a spade a spade, right?

Ohhh dear, that hurts, that really does. Double ouch. You can stop now with the self-flailing, Kitty, remember, you are not a Corrales Penitente.

I think the hermit and celibacy route is a good idea for me for now. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and certainly, nothing rejected, right? With my track record of 97% completely appalling choices in men, it is probably best just to sit the next few dances out… besides, with the effects from the Paroxetine, I have no desire to do anything about it anyway. I'll save a fortune in batteries, according to one dear frind. (Thanks Bugs...)

Today is 26th July and as of today, the kittens and I have now been here in Central Brittany, France, one full year. Wow… what a year, one that I would not wish to repeat, let me tell you that right off. I have had both bountiful gains and crushing losses. As I think back and reflect over the past twelve months, I am alternating with an emotional pendulum swing between satisfaction and pride then remorse and regret.

When it was good it was very, very good and when it was bad it was horrid…

So on the good side, I have my Titre de Séjour, I have 'right to work' here in France, I have my Social Security number, my Carte Vitale and my 100% CMU (Complimentary Health Insurance.) I am only weeks away from having my Decree Absolute then my divorce will be final. I am living in a great community and have a lovely HLM two-bedroom flat with gorgeous views over the open countryside and the Lorient to Pontivy bus route is directly in front of the flats. I have a washing machine and we all have bikes to ride thanks to a precious friend. We are only seven-minute’s walk from the girl’s school and I know many of the people in our village, certainly all the shopkeepers! The girls have settled in very well and are completely bilingual. They are both doing very well in school and I am so very proud of both of them. I am now in regular, almost daily, contact with my son, which has done more for me than Prozac. To find out that he is such a mensch makes me so proud I could burst!

Health-wise in the last twelve months, I have lost well over 20kg, have my heart problem under control, my cholesterol is exemplary, I have improved my health and fitness dramatically, my attitude has improved and I feel much stronger as a person. Not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but so much more together than I was last July. Last July I was a total wreck after arriving here. I now understand I was suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome, who could have guessed? The Doctor and I are working on that and I feel confident that the black cloud of melancholic despair that has been on my horizon for the last ten months or more has finally dissipated and disappeared to be replaced by blissful clear blue skies in my psyche. I am savouring this recovery; it is a long time coming.

As I look back at this past year, I also have to be mindful of the mistakes I have made. Due to my neglect, our dog died. I take responsibility for that, I should have looked out for rat poison being scattered about, for dead carcasses, I should have paid more attention to his whereabouts, if I had only known. I will post something about that in the next few days.

Probably the worst thing that happened to me this past year was that I destroyed the most precious friendship I have ever known by my own insensitive and callous attitude. I crushed the person I cared most about all because I couldn’t bring myself to trust them. I know that with time, the keen suffering I feel because of that injury will grow fainter, but I also know that nothing will ever replace that friendship and there will always be a poignant ache in my soul, the dull pang of regret. I pray that one day in the future I can mend that bridge I burned down between us, that we will take the chance to mend it, to rebuild it stronger and better, together.

I let many people down. I hurt those who mean so much to me: my family and friends. I was wrong in so many things and in so many ways. However, I must now forgive myself for these past mistakes. I have said I was sorry, that I feel guilt, remorse and shame for my mistakes. But there comes a time when you have to let go and that time for me is now. In order for me to make any headway in my emotional wellbeing, to make any progress in my mind, I need to stop beating myself up. I have spent many months in penitence, I feel contrite and I hope this is enough to atone for my sins. If you chose to judge me, go ahead. I am certainly not going to be casting any stones… lost-wax casting, perhaps, but no stones. It is time for me to move on now with my life.

So what do I come away with? Hope. I come away with hope, confidence and optimism for the future. I come away with gratitude for the friends I have made and for those who have stuck by me, who still believe in me and what I am trying to accomplish. I come away with an expectation of success that my fondest dreams will one day materialize.

I come away from this year with a positive attitude; this past year could have killed me, and not just the heart attack! It didn’t, though did it? No, I am still standing, I am still smiling, and I am still joyful and dancing through life with my pink toenails, high-cheekbones and amazing fashion sense. And sense of humour. Yes, that is still intact.

So one year on, I am a Happy Kitty. Things could be worse, things could be better, but I am meeting all of the challenges head on and overcoming them. I am proud of my accomplishments and myself. Therefore, I will give myself a virtual pat on the back, since I deserve it!

Oh and by the way… did you know the word ‘challenge’ is a euphemism for ‘pain in the arse’?

This was sent to me by my lovely friend Sharon and I wanted to share it with all of you!

Inside every older lady is a younger lady -- wondering what the hell happened.

-Cora Harvey Armstrong-

 

Inside me lives a skinny woman crying to get out. But I can usually shut her up with cookies.

 

The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy.

-Helen Hayes (at 73)-

I refuse to think of them as chin hairs. I think of them as stray eyebrows.

-Janette Barber-

Things are going to get a lot worse before they get worse.

-Lily Tomlin-

 

A male gynaecologist is like an auto mechanic who never owned a car.

-Carrie Snow-

 

Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry with your girlfriends.

-Laurie Kuslansky-

 

My second favourite household chore is ironing. My first being, hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.

-Erma Bombeck-

 

Old age ain't no place for sissies.

-Bette Davis-

 

A man's got to do what a man's got to do. A woman must do what he can't.

-Rhonda Hansome-

 

The phrase "working mother"! is redundant.

-Jane Sellman-

 

Every time I close the door on reality, it comes in through the windows.

-Jennifer Unlimited-

 

Whatever women must do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.

-Charlotte Whitton-

 

Thirty-five is when you finally get your head together and your body starts falling apart.

-Caryn Leschen-

 

I try to take one day at a time -- but sometimes several days attack me at once.

-Jennifer Unlimited-

 

If ! you can't be a good example -- then you'll just  have to be a horrible warning.

-Catherine-

 

When I was young, I was put in a school for retarded kids for two years before they realized I actually had a hearing loss. And they called ME slow!

-Kathy Buckley-

 

I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb -- and I'm also not blonde.

-Dolly Parton-

 

If high heels were so wonderful, men would still be wearing them.

-Sue Grafton-

 

I'm not going to vacuum 'til Sears makes one you can ride on.

-Roseanne Barr-

!
When women are depressed they either eat or go shopping. Men invade another country..

-Elayne Boosler-

 

Behind every successful man is a surprised woman.

-Maryon Pearson-

 

In politics, if you want anything said, ask a man. If you want anything done, ask a woman.

-Margaret Thatcher-

 

I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career.

-Gloria Steinem-

 

I am a marvellous housekeeper. Every time I leave a man, I keep his house.

-Zsa Gabor-

 

And this is my very, very favourite quote. One that I need to try to remember for myself.....

Nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission.

-Eleanor Roosevelt-

 

Well, if Madonna can do it, why not me as well, right? We have so much in common, Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone and I. We both have two X chromosomes, we both moved from the US to the UK, we were born the same year... um.... oh yeah! And we have both posed nude for a print publication. (However I think the Times Educational Supplement is a bit more highbrow and respectible than a book called 'Sex'...)

OK, so thats where the likeness ends....

Heh, no big deal. I was 80.5kg this morning! Well on my way to becoming an X-ray! Hahaha.... (Love that expression, Bugs!)

I bet no one recognise me from the back when I get to 60kg if I was to ever pose again....

 

Nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely.
Auguste Rodin, French sculptor.

Wise words from one of my favourite sculptors.

I suppose my challenge now is to figure out how best to utilise the lessons I have learned in the last few months.

1. Think before I open my mouth... that may be a hard one to do. I can but try I suppose.
   
2. NEVER, EVER, EVER post ANYTHING AT ALL if I am PMT. Nor send e-mails, nor text messages. In fact, until my Doctor gets my body chemicals in proper balance, it would be best to be put in solitary confinement for three days each month.
3. Saying sorry can be very embarrassing... especially when the person you are trying to apologise to ignores you. Tough. Keep at it. This is some of what humility is all about.

Humility in Christianity: In Christianity, humility, or meekness, is seen as a virtue, encompassing three skills:

1. yielding ones rights and possessions to God,
2. earning the right to be heard rather than demanding a hearing, and
3. responding properly to anger when others violate one's personal rights.

I need to be a lot more humble. I need to learn better how to properly respond to anger, I have been doing a damn lousy job of it of late. At least I have withheld yelling at my children, that seems to be how others deal with anger, I yell at adults instead. Thats not good either. I need to express how wrong I have been about so many things and beg forgiveness from those I have wronged. I do not want to be seen as a monster, be likened to a terrorist, I do not want these character traits to be attributed or ascribed to me. That is NOT me, not at all. That line of thinking is flawed surely. You mean to tell me that ONE occurence is enough to tar and feather a person for life?

Hmmmm....

I suppose if I had known that, I would never have tried anything. I certainly would never have opened my mouth...

Tolerate the tolerant, isn't it? Or does that only work when it is on your own side of the fence? I wonder. Do the rules then change to fit the occasion? Someone can say these fine words when it applies to someone else but then when it is turned around, another cliché applies?

I am not trying to change this around, to put the blame on anyone else but upon my own shoulders. Certainly I was wrong. That has been established. What do I need to do to make it right? It goes beyond Hail Marys or Our Fathers. Will it just be Time that is the big and final healer of all wounds? Or can I do something more concrete and active?

Please?

There have been many shifts between poles in our Earth's history. The North and South poles have actually 'swapped places' causing untold change to the Earth's crust. Maybe where Continental drift started, I don't know.

We all experience similar shifts in perception from time to time. Like your life was one way at a certain point in time then an event occurs to change you and how you view life. It changes you forever.

That has happened to me a few times. It can be as simple as finally figuring out how to correctly mold and fashion wax for lost wax casting, an ah-ha! moment. It can be as happy as holding your son or daughter for the first time. Or it can be as painful as walking in on your boyfriend in bed with another woman. Or it can be as drastic as being drugged, bound and forcibly raped. My life has experienced both ends of that spectrum, from ecstasy to agony.

So something simple occured yesterday that changed how I feel about my life. This weekend I have been miserable and sad, full of regret for past mistakes, for things I have done, for things that cannot be changed by myself. Things that can only be forgiven by others, if they so choose.

Then the Universe shifted yesterday and I saw my situation differently. It was a simple thing that happened, nothing drastic or horrid, just... ah... I see now.

I have been so full of jealousy about a particular situation, I have been so wrapped up in that emotion that I could not, would not allow myself to see it for what it really was. Well, now I do. I had absolutely no reason to feel the way I did and this is such a liberating feeling I cannot even begin to discribe it.

But I will say this. Today I feel dramatically different about my life. I feel positive and I feel that 'things' will work out. I just needed a change of attitude... Oh boy, did I ever get it yesterday! Yeeeeeeehaaaaahahahahah!

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes - Jimmy Buffett

I took off for a weekend last month
Just to try and recall the whole year.
All of the faces and all of the places,
wonderin' where they all disappeared.
I didn't ponder the question too long;
I was hungry and went out for a bite.
Ran into a chum with a bottle of rum,
and we wound up drinkin' all night.

It's those changes in latitudes,
changes in attitudes nothing remains quite the same.
With all of our running and all of our cunning,
If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane.

These changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes,
Nothing remains quite the same.
Through all of the islands and all of the highlands,
If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane

Reading departure signs in some big airport
Reminds me of the places I've been.
Visions of good times that brought so much pleasure
Makes me want to go back again.
If it suddenly ended tomorrow,
I could somehow adjust to the fall.
Good times and riches and son of a bitches,
I've seen more than I can recall (Chorus)

I think about Paris when I'm high on red wine,
I wish I could jump on a plane.
And so many nights I just dream of the ocean.
God, I wish I was sailin' again.
Oh, yesterdays are over my shoulder,
So I can't look back for too long.
There's just too much to see waiting in front of me,
and I know that I just can't go wrong
with these...(Chorus)

I received the following from a lovely woman (Thank you my darling, I am sending you a special 'smile' and some virtual cheesecake!). I would like to pass this article on and share it with all ofyou. I love being a channel for good information and I truely hope that this helps anyone that needs it, I know I certainly do!!!

Ohhhh... can you all just feel the love I am sending out to you! I am, you know!

(Especially YOU my blue-eyed friend!)

The Emergency Handbook for Getting Money Fast: How Do You Feel About Money?

B Y  C A R O L E  D O R É

DO YOU LOVE money? If you said, Yes, answer this: Do you love what the money will get you, or do you love money itself?

I have asked these questions for years in my seminars. Most of the time the answer to the first question is, No! If anyone does say Yes, I'll ask if they love what the money will get them, or if they actually love the money itself. Ninety nine percent of the time the answer is, what it will get them. Very rarely does anyone answer, the money itself!

It seems that the majority of people are having an issue with money! They need it desperately, so that they can eat and survive, but they have adverse feelings about it. Our country has now even hit an all time high, where we have hundreds of thousands of homeless people who are in critical need of money. Yet, everywhere I have given seminars, there seems to be an enormous judgement against it. People need money, they want it, and yet deep down inside they feel that there is something wrong with it. And, they even seem to be uncomfortable discussing its acquisition.

What it comes down to is this; people everywhere are at a stalemate with money. They don't want to think too much about it because they don't feel that it's right, and so they think about what it can get them instead. If we love just what the money will get us, we will only get just what it will get us and no more! If we want to increase our money, we need to love the money itself!

Remember that we give all of the forms of energy in our experience their life through our feelings. This means the outer forms as well as the inner forms of our vision. Anything that we love continually gains

When people only love what the money will get them, but not the money itself, they somewhat have a feeling of disinterest toward the money. Now, I don't know if you have ever been in relationship where there has been disinterest but I know I have. (Yuck!) If you have also, then you know how empty this feeling is. There is absolutely no energy left in that relationship at all. It is over with! Disinterest is dead energy! It is completely devoid of all feelings. So, if people feel disinterest toward money, this means that the majority of people aren't giving money any energy at all!

Now remember, we create through our feelings! Nothing can thrive, and certainly cannot flourish, under these conditions, and yet disinterest is what I have found most people's reactions to be toward money, everywhere that I go. Quite frankly, it's a wonder that people have any money at all!

Everything in our life is energized by the attention that we give it and the feelings we have toward it. Anything that we love - causes its form to grow, expand, and gain tremendous life!

Anything that we are critical of, will start contracting energy and it will lose its life - resulting in our losing it. This is how the impersonal Law of the Universe operates in all areas of our lives - including money!

If a person has the SLIGHTEST subconscious feeling that money is bad or evil - it will actually be repelled from them!

Whatever we don't love, becomes our master and we serve it. Whatever we love correctly, we become its master and it serves us. We definitely want to be the master over money!



We want to love everything! Therefore, if you want to have money in your experience, then you need to give it an enormous amount of love so that your powerful feelings will energize it, cause it to grow, flourish, and become more abundant in your life!

I think that the public's deep-seated judgement against money stems from this one small statement in the Bible that so many people have been raised with, memorized, and have unquestioningly accepted:

For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted [craved, lusted] after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. I Timothy 6: 10

Although people desperately want to end the homeless problem, they cling vehemently to this misinterpreted statement, which actually means: The obsession of money is the root of all evil. This is absolutely true!

I have explained, earlier in this book, how important it is not to be obsessed with anything because this inverted energy will distort the form, cause it to be out of control, and will push it out of our reach. It will cause its energy to contract so that it becomes diminished from our experience.

Unfortunately, because people think that it is evil to love money, their lack of the correct love for it has now caused money to become scarce and a major issue in their lives.

A lack of empowering love, and emotional obsession, will create serious problems in any area of our lives. Food is an excellent example! When people are obsessed with food, they either fill up with it uncontrollably, or they try to control it, and their body, by dieting (or even purging). Anything that we are obsessed with, through attachment or judgement, will continually run us, and run our lives, forever - until we stop!

We have certainly seen people who have become obsessed with money, and we have watched people steal from others to get it. The answer isn't to then blame the money itself and decide not to have any part of it. This is like throwing the baby out with the bath water! We need to start falling in love with all areas of our lives, as this love brings everything back into balance once again.

It seems that almost everyone has missed this other quote, which is also in the Bible.

There is an evil which I have seen under the sun, as an error which proceedeth from the ruler: Folly is set in great dignity, and the rich sit in low place. By much slothfulness the building decayeth; and through idleness of the hands the house droppeth through.

A feast is made for laughter, and wine maketh merry: but money answereth all things. Curse not the king, do not in thy thought; and curse not the rich in thy bedchamber: for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter. The words of a wise man's mouth are gracious; but the lips of a fool will swallow up himself. Ecclesiastes 10: 5, 6, 18-20, 12

Never has this statement meant more than it does at this day and time. We have got an environment that desperately needs our attention. Money is certainly the answer because it is going to take a lot of it to clean this mess up!

You definitely want to love the money itself! And you never want to talk negatively about it! You want to look at it. Admire it! Feel it! Have fun counting it! Start thinking about money the same way that you think about beautiful flowers. You are comfortable with it, and you love being in its presence! Your love for it is a pure, empowering love - not an obsession. It is like the kind of love that you would have for a sunset. It is childlike, innocent, and totally accepting!

If you wonder why we need to have a surplus of money instead of just having our needs met, the problem is this - if a person is spending all of their time trying to continually keep their own little world intact, there is no way that they can begin to look at the bigger picture. People keep ignoring what needs to be done in the world because they can hardly take care of themselves and their families. They would feel completely overwhelmed if they really recognized the immense problems with the environment, the schools, the homeless, etc. They are just too overwhelmed within their own little sphere. How on earth could they possibly take on any more?

The time has come for whole, fulfilled people with empowering, honorable intentions to be open to receiving an abundance of money! In this way, you can share your goodness with the world. The more that you allow yourself to have, the more you can make a difference in your life, and the more you can make a difference in the lives of others! And, with this changed perception and healing within, this planet can begin to heal as well!

Remember, no matter what it is that you want to create in your life, it is necessary for you to give your desire your love and energy in order for it to gain its life. Begin right now, and start falling in love with money - and allow this money to start expanding and overflowing in your life!

REMEMBER: Whatever energy you feel toward something, will cause it to respond back to you in like manner.

• Whatever you love increases in power, multiplies, mirrors back your love to you - and you gain much more of it to experience. Love sets into motion the Law of Expansion!

• Whatever you criticize, or complain about, loses its energy and its life. It begins to fall apart, become distorted, it diminishes - and you lose it. Criticism sets into motion the Law of Contraction.

• PRAISE whatever you want to increase in your life.

WHATEVER YOU PRAISE FLOURISHES!

I have always loved this quote by Dr. Joseph Murphy:

“Praise your desire or goal, exalt it, flatter it, kiss it, love it, feel the thrill, and wonder of it all. Let it fire and captivate your imagination. Let it thrill you through and through. Squeeze out the perfume of it.”

(from Prayer Is the Answer)

“Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart. Proverbs 27: 9



© Carole Doré, PowerVision Dynamics, All Rights Reserved 2004

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Carole Doré is an international speaker, popular radio and television talk show guest, and is the author of The Emergency Handbook For Getting Money FAST! She is widely recognized as a leading authority of Visualization and is the founder of PowerVision Dynamics.

In 1986, she discovered and developed a new creative procedure called PowerVision® - an accelerated form of Visualization that is applied through the heart, rather than the mind.

To provide in-depth guidelines for using this invaluable method, she produced PowerVision Dynamics®, a complete instructional program that explains how to create in synchronicity through expansive heart energy. For eighteen years her powerful teaching has dramatically enriched the lives of people throughout the world.

She has researched and refined metaphysics for over forty-five years and has completed ministerial training with Religious Science International. Her sense of personal power, insightful wisdom, and humor make her a popular speaker for people on all levels of life.

Truth is not always what is right or good or best. Truth is relative. It is about timing. It is about what is safe. It is the luxury of the privileged. Truth can destroy; therefore, it is not always wise or even healthy to be truthful.
Patricia Cornwell - 'The Last Precinct'

How to explain truth to people who don’t want to know it? How best to gift-wrap it so it can be accepted? I think about this when I consider the events surrounding the death of my Father.

I got a phone call from my Mom, the hospital wanted to talk to me. ‘Is it bad, Mom?’ She didn’t know. I conferred with the Hospital, yes as I feared, he is headed toward multi-organ failure, and it is only a matter of time, days, hours, or weeks, perhaps. My Father had taken a turn for the worse, now was the time to come if I wanted to see him alive. I made hasty arrangements and we flew out to the States arriving the day before Thanksgiving 2000. Mom picked us up at the airport in Orlando and we drove straight to my parent’s house. We only paused long enough to drop off our cases and then went straight to the hospital where my Father had been hospitalized for over a year. Dad wasn’t in great shape, as can be expected with kidney failure, he had been on dialysis since September ’98 and his health had been slowly going downhill. The Physician in charge had summoned us from the UK because Dad was ‘holding on’ to see me and, as he put it, ‘it won’t be long’…

We had a good meeting as the hospital staff let my girls in to see Dad, which is slightly against rules because of their age, but as he was a long-term resident and had a private room, they could see no reason why not. They were very good, both girls, my elder daughter was delightful, telling silly jokes and the younger, even though just eleven months, was ‘cruising’ around the room, holding onto furniture, so we all had a laugh about that. Dad was quite weak, but even so, he managed to see us for two hours before he just needed to rest. He was able to talk, but the effort just got too much, so we decided to leave him be and come back after we had had Thanksgiving Lunch/Dinner the next day.

We were staying with my Mom so went back to hers. I was jet-lagged and not thinking straight anyway so I just crashed with my youngest (who was still-breastfeeding) so I could be up early to help with the food Mom wanted to prepare as we were having the big dinner at my cousin’s house. My husband and sister decided to stay up and talk while my eldest discovered the joys of the Disney Channel and ‘Roly Poly Ollie’.

I was startled awake the next morning at 6am by the phone ringing. I staggered to the phone and was presented with the news that my Dad was having difficulty breathing, what did I want done? I didn’t understand. ‘If we don’t do anything he will die from asphyxiation or we can assist him breathing by giving him a trach. This will prolong his life until he has multiple-organ failure.’ I was speechless, I needed to make the decision if my father was to die or live and I needed to make it fast. ‘Doesn’t he have a Living Will? What has been decided between my parents?’ Nothing had been decided and there was no Living Will. Great. I shouted the house awake asking my Mother and sister what they wanted. What did Dad want? Both of them were in denial, my sister going on about Dad walking her down the aisle ‘someday’, my Mother crying that this couldn’t possibly be right he was just a little sick and he would be home soon.

No. When you get to the point where your body is having organ failure, it means the end is near. I had already accepted the truth; that my Father was dying and there was nothing that could be done. That’s why I was here, to say goodbye. But my sister and Mother were miles away from acceptance. I knew in my heart that my father would want to be allowed to die but also knew that there was no way my Mom could adjust, there were too many issues, insurance, details that had never been taken care of because Mom always doggedly thought Dad would come home one day. My sister wasn’t mentally capable to believe otherwise. So standing there with my sister and Mom in hysterics, I made the awful and selfish decision as someone had to…

“Help him breathe.”

My Dad was truly upset over that decision, as he wanted to die. He wanted to know why, the next day, when we sat together in private, why I had ‘let them’ help him breathe, why didn’t I let him die naturally? Didn’t I realise he wanted to die? I explained that I didn’t do it for him, I did it for Mom, for my sister and that I was deeply sorry that he had to suffer. I asked him directly if he knew he was dying, he nodded, tears came to his eyes. He mouthed, ‘Of course’ as he could no longer speak because of the trach. I felt just awful. I didn’t want to do this to this wonderful man, but I had no choice, the living had to take precedence. Horrible really, isn’t it? I then spent the next week going around to the different agencies with my Mother, helping her prepare for his death, notifying people, setting out a Living Will, setting up a cremation at the Funeral Home, getting her Power of Attorney. Helping my Mom come to acceptance about my Father’s eventual death.

So, I have felt guilty ever since because my decision really did cause him to suffer. On the other hand, it also allowed all of us to say goodbye to each other. I was always cool with my Dad and said my final goodbye the day we went back to the UK. ‘Dad, you know we will never see each other again, don’t you?’ He nodded sadly, as tears ran down both our faces. ‘But you also know that even though you die, you will still go on. I am here, so is my sister and you have three beautiful grandchildren… so a little part of you goes into the future.’ He mouthed a ‘thank you’, squeezing my hand and smiling. We looked at each other for a long time, crying, remembering our life together and finally smiling. It was so hard to say goodbye, as I was positively certain we would never see each other again, not in this life, so I asked him to come see me when he died, ‘like Grand-daddy did.’ He rasped out a painful, ‘I love you’, I gave him a hug and a kiss then looked into his eyes and said I loved him as well, and always would. Then I left the room, overcome with grief for this magnificent man, my Daddy.

He lasted another 2 ½ months and I am ashamed to say, the end of it was hideously painful for him. But, I am also not ashamed to say that were the decision mine to make again… it would be the same one. I saw my Mom and sister as the ones who were needier in that particular situation. I believe they would have suffered much more than my Dad did. Still, it will ever pain me that the decision had to be made at all, in a situation like that, a Living Will needs to be in place. However, in order for a Living Will to be in place, acceptance of the inevitable has to happen. Acceptance of reality.

There is a point where you just reach acceptance. This is how this situation is, this is how it is playing out and there is nothing you can do, emotionally, physically or sensibly to affect the result. You stop struggling. Stop ranting and railing over it. You finally stop obsessing over it. You just let it occur. ‘This is how this is. Yesterday was different, tomorrow most likely will be as well but the now is this. Period.’

I find it a struggle to accept things as they are. I feel that I should be able to effect a change, which will somehow make things go differently. There have been many things lately I have been struggling with, on a personal basis, trying to get to the point of acceptance. I almost get there and then I backslide. It is extremely annoying; to those around me, I am sure, as well as frustrating to myself. However, with one situation I think I have finally been able to make peace. There is nothing for me to do but chill out, calm down and step back… at least until later in the year. Then see what the reality is then.

If the dream is big enough... the reality doesn't matter....

Sigh…

Right... In my next life, I would like to be a lot less bloody pig-headed, please. Oh yeah, and since there is a wish list, I would like to have fabulously wealthy parents who set me up with a sizable trust fund so I never need worry about money and which allows me to do Philanthropic work. Things that I personally find important such as Adult literacy, AIDS education, proper nutrition for children and the right for everyone on the planet to access clean water.

Failing being rich and altruistic, I would love to have not any other care in the world besides wondering where I should holiday next, touching up my French manicure or counting how many shades of beige I have in my wardrobe…

Gosh, if that’s the case, better ask to be blonde as well then, huh?

The last few weeks, since my ex’s visit, I have been struggling with many issues. I feel guilty, I feel sad, I feel annoyed, I feel lonely, I feel… well, lots of things, many I can’t even describe. Mostly I feel confused so I write to this Blog, then, with the benefit of space and time to read it over and think about it, I edit it out so it makes sense, at least to me. I add some in and take a lot out. Some things I think about and mull over for a week or more before posting them. That is the case with this particular Blog. The event I refer to here occurred well over a week ago, 6th June, to be exact, but it has taken me this long to get all the anger out of me and also out of the posting so it is more neutral. More centred and calm.

This ‘write, edit… write, edit’ is part of the process I am using to help myself. When I feel unbelievably frustrated, so damn utterly alone, happy, ecstatic, thoughtful, sad, or I reminisce about a smell, a flavour, a memory, I write this letter, this Blog, to get it out of me. I read it, edit it, think some more, and keep at it until I have what I think is ‘me.’ Then, if it seems worthwhile, I post it to the net. I think by reading this Blog, you will, over time, get to know me quite well, if you are so inclined. I have hundreds of stories in me, so many ‘souvenirs’ in my head. Some of them are good and productive while some are horrid and destructive. I am trying to prune out the nasty stuff, so that is why you will occasionally find stuff on here that is quite dark. I will always warn you, though, at the beginning of the post if I think it will be hard to read, I promise.

And isn't it interesting how we view ourselves sometimes? To ourselves, especially when we listen to the aspersions of others, we may think ourselves a MoFo of the First Order... when to another, we may be the most exquisite life form ever to walk this Earth... Point of View, isn't it?

So, this is what I am sharing with you, this opening up of myself, like a flower, I suppose. Yeah, that sounds dead poetic, doesn’t it? Kitty blooming…

(Ooooh… and the stuff I edit out is… wait for it… Kitty Litter… Ok now, don’t all groan at once…)

In life, things happen, do-do occurs. This event that I am going to discuss completely pissed me off. I was so upset; I really didn’t know how to express it. I have to admit it did colour all of my interactions for a time afterwards so then, as a result, I get friends saying to me, “Kitty, why are you so angry? Are you angry with us? Maybe we just won’t talk to you if you are going to be so moody.” Bah. How do you explain to friends that it has nothing to do with them? No… not at all, nothing to do with you… please understand… however, someone else just dumped a load of raw sewage in my life.

Sigh.

The difficult thing for me to remember is, just as many things are happening in other people’s lives as are happening in mine, I lose sight of that. I feel I am here alone on the battlefield against the enemy and everyone else is at home watching it on TV, eating bon-bons. Which isn’t true, of course, we all have our own battlefields we fight on everyday. It’s not like my situation is unique, it’s not like I am the only one facing a difficult situation, but sometimes it feels like I am. Sometimes because I have no ways of explaining myself save this Blog. But it’s just that, a Blog, it’s not a conversation. None of us are islands unto ourselves, we all have to interrelate with others. Unfortunately, you can never explain things adequately unless you are doing it face to face. You just end up misunderstanding each other over any type of distance be it time, emotional, electronic or otherwise.

I don’t enjoy being depressed, sullen or angry; it doesn’t fit into my persona. I like people to laugh and enjoy life around me; I want to see people reaching their potential. I like to think I am the sort of person and personality that not only encourages and promotes people utilising their abilities and applying their talents but supports that process as well. I think that is how I approach being a Mother and how I believe I interact with my own children. Supportive and just ever-so-slightly pushy…

So, here is a weeks worth of editing… Even so, it’s still bloody long…

I have this huge pile of boxes, bags and suitcases of clothes my ex brought me over from the UK. I have been slowly going through one big bag/box/case at a time. I don’t do more than that because I am wheezing like a cold Morris Minor before I am even half-way through it. Everything from the UK reeks of cigarette smoke and I am severely allergic to that, even second-hand stuff. I emptied out one bag on the living room floor before going to bed, I needed to air it out before doing any more to it so I had opened the window and shut the door. Now here it is, 2 am and as I could not sleep, I thought I would grab that pile and do some laundry. I’m lucky both girls are good sound sleepers, now.

I have a kimono made of a heavy silk charmeuse; it is really a dressing gown more than an actual kimono. My father gave it to me many years ago. It is reversible so you can wear it with the flower scattered pale gold side out, or the black side out; that side has a huge embroidered dragon in the centre of the back. It’s soft and drapes well and I think it looks rather sexy. It makes me feel sexy, at least. I haven’t worn it much since leaving the USA as it’s a tight size 18 but I did start wearing it again last June or so, for a few months before escaping to France. Since my ex had put it in with the bin bag full of towels he had brought over; I thought I would take it out and try it on. Phew, wash it first as I can’t even bear having it touch my skin before being washed.

As it was in with the pile of towels, and since I have machine-washed it before, I just tossed them all in the machine. I didn’t actually look at it before washing it. So what a surprise to find, when I pulled it from the machine, now smelling like fabric softener, instead of second-hand Golden Virginia, that it wasn’t in the same condition as I remembered it.

It had been slashed with a knife down the back from mid-shoulder to hip area through both layers dissecting in two the beautiful embroidered dragon.

I thought about snapping, calling my ex up and blessing him out over the phone, but then thought ‘what good would that do?’ Besides, I have done so much snapping lately that I am beginning to think I am related to knicker elastic.

It made me incredibly sad, as it was a gift from a very important person, a person who I can no longer just phone up and say, “Dad, you know that kimono? If I sent you the money, could you get me another one?” Then have him invariably reply, as he did to just about any reasonable request from me, “Of course, light of my life, whatever you want…”

It made me angry as he knew how much I loved wearing that kimono… even though it is just a material object and in the great scheme of things, isn’t minutely important when weighed against my children, or their health or their happiness. Or mine for that matter.

It made me feel chilled because I have been symbolically ‘knifed in the back’. Like by destroying this personal object, he was somehow hurting me physically. As if this is the only way, the only means he has of affecting me, the one way he can get back at me, extract revenge, by destroying objects that hold memories for me.

So… what to do? Well, from a purely practical standpoint, I will go get some backing material, I already have some iron-on Stitch-Witchery, and I will repair my kimono. Then again, what I cannot repair, ever, is how that act made me feel at that moment in time.

You see, something in me died as I stood there holding my mutilated kimono, I think, possibly, it was the final shred of hope. Hope that this crevasse between us will fill in, that by some miracle, the way I feel for him will change, will go back to how it was fourteen months or so previous when I still had my head in the sand. When I still loved him. OK, more honestly, when I still thought I loved him, when I was still living the lie I had bought into seven years earlier.
How can I possibly go back now when I have opened my eyes and seen the situation for what it was?

It would be so much easier if I did go back, you know. If I could just bring myself to play-act. If I could just close my eyes and think of England, or whatever it is you are supposed to think of in that situation. (Hmmm… I think I’ll paint the ceiling beige…) I wonder how many women worldwide are doing that same thing right now? Don’t they seem happy? Don’t they seem fulfilled? Put on a happy face and think happy thoughts even though inside you are seething. You know what subjects to avoid, when to be silent or supportive, when to disappear, when to be cheerful and what is demanded of you in the bedroom. You instinctively set up relationship engrams to allow yourself to function. All the while, you keep your mouth shut and just put up with it. And, over time, I suppose you even get used to it, no matter how wrong it is for you. You don’t even consider changing, it doesn’t enter into your awareness, your conscious thought.
At some point, you even start believing that’s how it’s supposed to be. Because it is familiar, it’s ‘the devil you know’ so you understand how to operate within the confines of the relationship.

I really do wonder what percentages of women do just that, believe that is how it is ‘supposed’ to be, because of the situation they now find themselves in and since they can see no way of changing the reality.

However, if you don’t know the reality is wrong, if you never challenge it, how would you know? You wouldn’t. Isn’t it easier to stick with what has become bearable if not even comfortable? Of course it is. Rhetorical question and answer time.

This thing that has happened to the kimono, if it was just the one thing, the one event, then I could probably deal with it, suppress, repress and go on. But taken as it is, as a link in a chain of events, it has become, in my psyche, the proverbial ‘straw that broke the camel’s back.’ Now, my feelings will not change back. How can they realistically change back in all honesty? An example that I have probably used before is cake. You take the raw ingredients of flour, sugar, butter, eggs, leavening, milk and salt. You mix them together into a batter and bake that in an oven. The resulting product bears no resemblance to the raw ingredients nor can you ever extract out the eggs or butter from the finished cake. It is a new entity and having been changed by the heat of the oven, will ever stay this way. Until someone eats it, of course, but let’s just focus on the cake for now.

Why be batter when you can be cake?

You know, one of his parting shots at me on one of the phone calls awhile back was this, “You know you will never make it on your own, you can’t cope by yourself. You have no one to taxi you about, no car, no driving license. You need someone to lean on all the time. You need someone to support you and fund your lifestyle. You need someone to take care of you and the girls, so when will you stop playing this little game of yours and come back home? You can’t possibly do it all by yourself.”

Ooooh… Look! … a gauntlet.

(Fund my lifestyle? [Kitty looks around.] Yeah, this suite at the George V is really eating into my Trust Fund…)

I can’t possibly do it all by myself, eh? Well that is where he is wrong. That might have been me last year but that is most certainly NOT me now. I do NOT need anyone to ‘finance’ me. I do NOT need someone here to ‘lean on’, I’m a Homo Sapiens, we stand upright and on our own two feet. I do NOT need nor do I WANT someone to take care of me, parental responsibility for me ended at 18 when I moved out of my Mom and Dad’s house. Granted, I wasn’t at all independent when I came to France last summer, but, I sure as hell am now. I am not playing a game, I have a good life here and it is getting better, regardless of the occasional hiccups I encounter along life’s dual carriageway. My children are happy and healthy and stress free. I have so many things concerning them that I no longer need worry about, now that we have left the UK.

And I AM home.

I may not always be happy. Sometimes I get irritated, gloomy and disheartened as it is hard here and I am being pulled in fifty different directions some days, but, dammit, that’s life. You take the bitter with the sweet. You meet all the challenges head on, conquer them, then move on to the next. I think I am one hell of a lot better as a person that I was last year at this time. Certainly one hell of a lot less naïve. I am more than just ‘getting by’. I have carved out a niche for my children and myself. I am facing every new situation and solving it (eventually.) And I am doing this all by myself. So as for that crap about not making it on my own, well, I certainly don’t need a bloody man.

(Having someone to go on a picnic with, meet up for coffee with or take a walk with through Pont-Aven, now and again, is something else…)

I would only desire an equal, honest and loving relationship with a compassionate partner where we recognise and play to each other’s strengths. If I ever eventually do choose to change from toute seule, I would require a partnership that includes mutual respect, admiration and the ability to value each other including a reasonable and non-discriminatory division of responsibilities…

(Geez, not asking for much, am I? Heh, but doesn’t it make a great Mission Statement…)

I am no one’s Barbie Doll or Fashion Accessory. I have a mind of my own. I have a life of my own. If I do ever ultimately decide to share it, it will only be with some incredible person. Who isn’t afraid of a sensuous and dynamic personality in the guise of a red-haired woman. A person who would help me cook, will eat steak tartar and melted cheese (not together, mind) and won’t force Country and Western down my craw. A person who is passionate about a number of things, has a good sense of humour, is honest, intelligent, objective, faithful and monogamous, will allow me my ‘mental space’ without getting jealous, likes children and dogs… oh yeah, and won’t get their nose bent out of joint by being beaten at Chess.

Kitty sits and watches the tumbleweeds blow through…

Sad and depressed Kitty is boring. Truthful, but boring.

OK, I did say that I would be truthful on this Blog. That this is a tool for self-examination, a way to find out about me and if I lie or exaggerate, there are enough people (who know me rather very well) who will pull me up on it. I also said I would discuss my experiences here in France and in my past. Therefore, you will see different moods emerge as I discuss myself. I think, overall, I am a positive person. I genuinely like people and that shows in my interactions. I like to see people smile and laugh; I love a good joke, a good laugh. (Hmm. Yes.) So this depression I have been in, this ‘funk’ has subsided, nothing lasts forever after all. Still, you might as well know about it, I never claimed to be a bowl of plain porridge. Muesli with nuts and fruit and whole milk yoghurt scattered with a tempting array of forest fruits… maybe.

The way I figure it is this: I only have one life in this body with these attributes and skills set, this knowledge, this DNA, this fabulous dress sense. So I grab life and consume it with both hands. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose, and sometimes I draw even. At least when I come to the end of my life, I will be able to say I tried everything offered to me, I have denied myself nothing…

(Except certain illegal drugs and, ahem, life ‘experiences’… like skydiving, S&M, bungee jumping, white-water rafting, Lesbianism, spelunkering, Dom/Sub…)

Oh, come on… Now you cannot really picture Kitty with a whip, can you?

You CAN? Well, that’s a new and rather interesting career change choice, Miss Kitty - Dominatrix… Madame Cat. Heehee. Catwoman! Just imagine the business card…

Nah, I think I would look crap in a skin-tight black leather cat suit à la Michelle Pfeiffer. … Hmmm… dressed as Halle Berry on the other hand…

Hmmm…. Then again, a leather bustier … with stilettos, seamed black stockings, black lace and leather sussies, black lace rah-rah skirt, long black leather gloves, big hair and a studded leather collar… Now that could be a look that works.

(Kitty tries to picture it… Kitty used to work in Costumes, remember…)

No, definitely not, that is just too excessively Goth for my taste. Besides, with my red hair, I look much better in Autumnal, Earth colours… mustard, sand, terracotta, lapis and sage but never black. So… not leather but something frothy and fluffy, lacy and feminine with silk, satin, oh, I know… silk charmeuse, think along those lines. Floating and stylish and elegant, Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Grace Kelly in Rear Window or To Catch a Thief… actually Grace Kelly in anything. Admittedly, I don’t have the body for it, but its fun to pretend.

But enough about fashion choices… (Although… I just might have to come back to that bustier idea , when I have lost enough weight that is…)

Sooooo, I am turning my attention to exciting, interesting and different things in honour of the fact I am NOT PMT and it is almost Summer Solstice (OK, we still have 10 days to go, but by telling you now, you will have time to get the invitations printed and sent out. Heh, no problem, you’re welcome.) I took some mental Prozac just before utilising this home DIY lobotomy kit and dying my roots blonde… (Waddaya mean they look grey? Behave!) so now I am in a much better mood. Who wants to hear all this ‘I’m so depressed, whine-whine, nobody likes me, I’m gonna eat some worms... Waa-waa. Poor downtrodden, miserable and pauvre moi…’ BORING!... Huge Yawn.

Let’s look at something important like, this summer’s nail varnish colours or do I just bikini-line wax or go for the full Brazilian? Also… fake tan: is it a hit or a miss? Ohmygod! Did you see what happened on Corrie the other night, during the omnibus? (Does Coronation Street even have an Omnibus or is that just Eastenders? I really should research stuff…) So many things to think about and so little room to do it in! Will it be Linen or Viscose/Rayon? Margaritas or Long Islands? Thai Summer rolls or Sushi hand-rolls? Oooooh! And aren’t the new Scholl sandals just too cute? I got a pink leather pair as they match the toenail varnish. (In addition, they matched my bloodshot eyes come Sunday morning, but we won’t mention that… just like to stay colour-coordinated, at all times, if at all possible…)

So slightly sarky, slightly tongue-in-cheek but I know there are some women (and men I daresay) whose sole existence revolves around those types of life choices. Will it be Sally, Oprah or Tracy? Where shall I make reservations for dinner? Oh, too much effort, better go have a lay down and prepare myself for the afternoon’s daytime TV selections. Or perhaps this afternoon’s computer games. Computer games? Get a life! (Granted, if I had something other than Win98 Solitaire and Minesweeper to play, I might understand the attraction…)

If you recognise yourself in any of the above, shame on you. How about a hobby? Learn a language, build a webpage (go on, challenge yourself, use Notepad), plant a vegetable garden, weed said garden, take up photography, build a darkroom, take up drawing – anyone can draw… get the book ‘Drawing on the Right side of your Brain’. Learn how to play a musical instrument (you are not too old; my Aunt Kitty taught herself how to play the piano when she was 65 as she was going blind from Macular Degeneration… she still plays every day at 93.) Go skip stones across a lake. Learn fly-fishing. Take a walk around your neighbourhood. There are so many things to do besides allowing a box to entertain you. Not only will you increase the blood flow to your brain, you will also become one whole hell of a lot more interesting as a person. More interesting to yourself, your partner and those around you. It’s great for stress as well.

Besides, who really cares what Judge Judy thinks?