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16 hours ago, GreenTealael said:

B-Side Question: Anyone experience themselves or others making Mountains out of Molehills post surgery (now that weight isnt the biggest problem anymore)?

If anything, I have chilled out quite a bit. I am waaaaay less stressed/angry/irritable etc.

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7 hours ago, Cheeseburgh said:

B. My hatred of being fat was my biggest issue. It prevented me from doing a lot of things because I was so self conscious. I was pretty new at being fat and I really didn’t like it.

I can relate to this. There was a point where I didn't like myself for being so fat and I sacrificed most of my social life because of how self conscious I was. Being so young at a heavy weight didnt help either.

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8 hours ago, Cheeseburgh said:

Have you tried Jane Iredale Lip drink?

No but I will check it out....thanks!!

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Thanksgiving memories. I have 3, the first 2 are related.
1994-Going out with our entire family to a nice restaurant knowing it would be my Mom’s final Thanksgiving. It was bittersweet but I’m so glad we did it.

1995-My Dad insisting he host even though my Mom passed away and he can’t cook. He reheated the Buns in the tray with the plastic on them! It was good to laugh again.

My all time favorite was sometime when I was probably in high school or maybe college. We were having Thanksgiving at my Grandmas and she asked me to help make gravy. I had NO idea what I was doing and made a mess of it which she had to fix. During dinner my Grandma of course proclaimed to everyone what a great job I did and made sure everyone complimented me on how good the gravy was. She was that kind of Grandma and it was awesome.

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20. As always, I'm most grateful for my four fur babies. I so enjoy them and hope they enjoy me.

21. What popped into my head is my toothbrush. Odd I know but I do love the feeling of freshly brushed teeth.

22. I don't there is one particular memory, rather it's a collage of times interacting with my family (which could go either way) in positive ways.

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31 minutes ago, Cheeseburgh said:

Thanksgiving memories. I have 3, the first 2 are related.
1994-Going out with our entire family to a nice restaurant knowing it would be my Mom’s final Thanksgiving. It was bittersweet but I’m so glad we did it.

1995-My Dad insisting he host even though my Mom passed away and he can’t cook. He reheated the Buns in the tray with the plastic on them! It was good to laugh again.

My all time favorite was sometime when I was probably in high school or maybe college. We were having Thanksgiving at my Grandmas and she asked me to help make gravy. I had NO idea what I was doing and made a mess of it which she had to fix. During dinner my Grandma of course proclaimed to everyone what a great job I did and made sure everyone complimented me on how good the gravy was. She was that kind of Grandma and it was awesome.

My eyes are just sweating i promise

giphy (6).gif

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Day 22: No real Thanksgiving memory really stands out for me at all. Every year was exactly the same....but this is funny. On holidays, my mom always fixed a pickle tray with several kinds, including black olives. I have loved black olives ever since I can remember. I remember thinking they must be super expensive since we only had them on holidays. When I got older and realized that they were not expensive at all, I pointed this out to my mom and asked her why we did not have them at other times. She said it was because no one liked them except me. Thanks mom!! And, guess where that pickle tray is now...

Edited by MIZ60

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So my favorite TG memory is from ‘09 when I was on chemo. I had had some really rough weeks behind me and my hair had just fallen out the month before. I was feeling crappy and wasn’t in the mood for a holiday.
My sister hosted, and she has yorkies . One of them—Beau— such a darling. He looooooves going out for walks and gets so excited about them.
After trying to eat a few bites of dinner, a wave of nausea hit me and I knew I needed OUTSIDE the house right then and there. The weather was gorgeous— sunny and mild temps— so I grabbed Beau and his collar and we took off walking. It was so peaceful just to walk with a dog and take in the scenery while I tried to forget (if even for a few moments) that I was on chemo.

Fast forward 10 years. My sister texted me just last weekend to inform me that Beau is no longer with us. He was 14 and lived a grand old life full of walks and playing and cuddling, but when he could no longer get up to eat or drink, she has to make a tough choice.
Next week will be our first family TG without Beau, but I’m so thankful that I got to share that moment with him.

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The Thanksgiving memory I am most grateful for is the only time I ever met my paternal Grandfather. However, it isn’t quite what it might initially sound like. To explain, I have to go back a bit. I hope you can forgive the long post- I feel like I owe it to him to tell his story.

My Grandfather was a brilliant man, literally. A high achieving scholar with a full ride scholarship to Annapolis Military Academy as he graduated high school back in a time when many people only completed even 8th grade. He had everything going for him a young man could hope for, and his family was endlessly proud of him for so many reasons beyond just these.

Everything went according to plan for a few years. He was successful in everything he ever endeavored to try, he married, and he was a loving father to his two young boys. Life could not have been better, until something began to go drastically wrong.

After several years of struggle, my Grandfather was diagnosed with late onset paranoid schizophrenia. Unable to function without constant specialized care, he was institutionalized in a VA Mental Health Hospital facility at the age of 27 where he would live until his death at 82 years.

As a child I grew up knowing my Grandfather well as my Dad would visit him faithfully every two weeks, no matter what else was going on in his life. I frequently went along to visit and my Grandfather was always included at every family holiday in our home.

When I was 11 one Thanksgiving Day we were seated around the Thanksgiving table, as we usually would do, preparing to feast on all of my Mom’s hard work. My Grandfather sat at the head of the table, my Father at the other end, and the rest of us sat in between. We said grace and began to pass the food around. Suddenly, as my Grandfather interrupted the quiet chatter, I looked up into his face. He said, in the most earnest tone, “I try to be like everyone else, but I just can’t. I am so sorry.”

Even at only eleven I sensed that this was something big. I knew instantly that this was a man I had never really met. There was a clarity in his eyes I had never before seen, and the person he had not been allowed to be sat with all of us in that moment.

We all sat in stunned silence for a second, each of us feeling the weight of it. Finally, my Dad, his voice cracking, said “It’s OK, Dad. We understand.” My Grandfather smiled at us all, and then that new light in his eyes was gone again.

I absolutely believe I met my Grandfather, the man inside, for the first and only time that day. It is a gift I will never forget.

The next time you encounter someone with mental illness, please don’t pretend like they are not there. Say hello and try to interact- even if it is awkward and uncomfortable for you. These people deserve more than cold silence and invisibility.

You never know who is inside of that exterior, just waiting to be seen. ❤️

Edited by FluffySaysForkIt!

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12 hours ago, Sheribear68 said:

So my favorite TG memory is from ‘09 when I was on chemo. I had had some really rough weeks behind me and my hair had just fallen out the month before. I was feeling crappy and wasn’t in the mood for a holiday.
My sister hosted, and she has yorkies . One of them—Beau— such a darling. He looooooves going out for walks and gets so excited about them.
After trying to eat a few bites of dinner, a wave of nausea hit me and I knew I needed OUTSIDE the house right then and there. The weather was gorgeous— sunny and mild temps— so I grabbed Beau and his collar and we took off walking. It was so peaceful just to walk with a dog and take in the scenery while I tried to forget (if even for a few moments) that I was on chemo.

Fast forward 10 years. My sister texted me just last weekend to inform me that Beau is no longer with us. He was 14 and lived a grand old life full of walks and playing and cuddling, but when he could no longer get up to eat or drink, she has to make a tough choice.
Next week will be our first family TG without Beau, but I’m so thankful that I got to share that moment with him.

There's just something in my eyes ...

giphy (5).gif

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12 hours ago, FluffySaysForkIt! said:

The Thanksgiving memory I am most grateful for is the only time I ever met my paternal Grandfather. However, it isn’t quite what it might initially sound like. To explain, I have to go back a bit. I hope you can forgive the long post- I feel like I owe it to him to tell his story.

My Grandfather was a brilliant man, literally. A high achieving scholar with a full ride scholarship to Annapolis Military Academy as he graduated high school back in a time when many people only completed even 8th grade. He had everything going for him a young man could hope for, and his family was endlessly proud of him for so many reasons beyond just these.

Everything went according to plan for a few years. He was successful in everything he ever endeavored to try, he married, and he was a loving father to his two young boys. Life could not have been better, until something began to go drastically wrong.

After several years of struggle, my Grandfather was diagnosed with late onset paranoid schizophrenia. Unable to function without constant specialized care, he was institutionalized in a VA Mental Health Hospital facility at the age of 27 where he would live until his death at 82 years.

As a child I grew up knowing my Grandfather well as my Dad would visit him faithfully every two weeks, no matter what else was going on in his life. I frequently went along to visit and my Grandfather was always included at every family holiday in our home.

When I was 11 one Thanksgiving Day we were seated around the Thanksgiving table, as we usually would do, preparing to feast on all of my Mom’s hard work. My Grandfather sat at the head of the table, my Father at the other end, and the rest of us sat in between. We said grace and began to pass the food around. Suddenly, as my Grandfather interrupted the quiet chatter, I looked up into his face. He said, in the most earnest tone, “I try to be like everyone else, but I just can’t. I am so sorry.”

Even at only eleven I sensed that this was something big. I knew instantly that this was a man I had never really met. There was a clarity in his eyes I had never before seen, and the person he had not been allowed to be sat with all of us in that moment.

We all sat in stunned silence for a second, each of us feeling the weight of it. Finally, my Dad, his voice cracking, said “It’s OK, Dad. We understand.” My Grandfather smiled at us all, and then that new light in his eyes was gone again.

I absolutely believe I met my Grandfather, the man inside, for the first and only time that day. It is a gift I will never forget.

The next time you encounter someone with mental illness, please don’t pretend like they are not there. Say hello and try to interact- even if it is awkward and uncomfortable for you. These people deserve more than cold silence and invisibility.

You never know who is inside of that exterior, just waiting to be seen. ❤️

Its just a dust allergy... I swear

Lot-Ugly-Crying.gif

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23. What use of my phone am I most grateful for? The first thing that popped in my head is texting because it keeps me in touch with my BFF even when we don't have time or timing to connect. At least we can let each other know we are thinking of each other. And it's funny that I say that because I don't text much at all. I prefer conversations.

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