Grieving, again

 In the last week of the year, my mother in law died.

She had an ictus an than extensive brain bleding. The country being in the situation it is, hospitals are full, and they did not admit her past ER. To be fair, she lived 15 minutes drive from a major hospital, and it took 5 hours and a half for an ambulance to come, pick her up and bring her to ER. You cannot drive yourself to ER or a family member these days, due to covid19.

By the time she was checked into ER, her brain was gone, she was in a deep coma. The doctors called my sister in law and explained she had 1 or two days left and that another ambulance would drive her back home, since they did not have free beds and she was terminal.

At least my husband, one of his brothers and his sister were with her at the end (the other 2 brothers had  unfortunately left to grab a bite some 10 minutes earlier). It was good for them I think, but really, it made me understand that it's so true when they say everyone dies alone. She was not conscious.

After all, the main measure taken by our government after months of debate on the pandemic, was spending 3 billions euros to equip schools with desks with wheels to ensure social distancing (and schools were only opened for three weeks in September, then they closed again).

Being the stubborn person I am, of course I always liked my mother in law and had a very good relationship with her. My husband is not the kind to express feelings, but I can see he's really in pain.

Since the family is strongly catholic, they had the open coffin in the house for 4 days, with people coming in from 7AM to 9PM. It was exhausting. Most people would start praying as soon as they step in, reciting what we call a Rosary (roughly, it's 50 Hail Marys, 5 PAter Nosters and a bunch of other prayers).

By the day of the funeral everyone was a train wreck - her priest son celebrated a beautiful functions, that made everyone cry (I really admire how good he was with words and memories, all without faltering - well not faltering too much). These poor guys have lost both their parents in 2020, and there's really not much anyone can do.

Finally yesterday, after the funeral, we decided to go back to our place in Milan (we won't be able to move in the new flat before the end of April).

On other news, I was late with periods for a while around Christmas, but then our hopes were crushed. Also, it seems they are putting me in the equity partners admittance process again, with a 50% chances of success. Frankly speaking, we came to a point where I'd rather not be made equity partner, but I'll develop more in the next post.

And the sad truth of how much more weight I have gained in these weeks of overeating and staying at home finally hit me very hard this morning.

This really need to go back to a weight loss blog.

Song of the day:

Snow can wait, I forgot my mittens,

Whipe my nose, get my new boots on.

I get a little warm in my heart when I think of winter

I put my hands in my fathers gloves

(...)

I hear a voice: You must learn to stand up

for yourself, 'cause I can't always be around

When you're gonna make up your mind?

When you're gonna love you as much as I do?

When you're gonna make up your mind?

These things are gonna change so fast

All the white horses are still in bed

I tell you that I'll always want you near

You say that things change

My dear, never change

I like Tori Amos, but I love Dream Theater cover for this one.

How could I fuck up so badly?

I, once again, am not going to make it to equity partner this year. Nor ever.

My boss very kindly (sarcasm dripping) explained that next year it'll be me for sure, but this year they're already making a female equity partner in Spain (we are grouped with Spain and Portugal), so they're keeping me to fill the female quota next year. Also, they're making equity partner a kid whose father is in Government, so that is very important.

Finally, I shall not despair because if the firm at global level forces us to make a female partner it will be me.

I kid you not, this is what he told me.

Incidentally, he told me something on the same lines last year. I am NOT waiting for another year working like this. What's left of my humanity would be destroyed. And between you and I, I don't think I'll grow a penis in one year and thus be allowed to join the fucking boys club.

And I'm so silly, I, at least, expected my husband to understand the kind of grief I'm going through.

Instead, being a man, he simply said it doesn't matter, that I can do something else, become a mom and so on.

He made it, but somehow he can't understand how much more I have had to endure (and how longer - I've been doing this for 15 years).

He doesn't understand how it feels to remember all the pride I've had to swallow. All the times I've been judged - too aggressive, not enough aggressive. Too sexy, not sexy enough. Gained weight - means she can't manage the pressure. The time a partner told a client and of my team in front of me that I was perfect when I was sitting, since my head was at the same height as his dick.

So long, so much, for what? Nothing.

The urge to stop eating and indulge in self harming had not been this strong since I was 23. But then again, I was already doing this job back then.

gone

I flew back from Greece on Sunday morning, landed happily and got a call.
From a former coworker.
He said "Look I don't know how else to say this, Vivien died"
I actually asked him if this was a bad joke. Vivien, 42, beautiful, healthy and lovely cannot be dead
Vivien, who adopted a troubled, orphaned teenager last summer
Vivien, my friend, who could be trusted to always make sense
Vivien, the kind one, who talked too much and who everyone loved

Vivien drowned last Saturday

Vivien was definitely not the sporty kind, but one thing she could do was swimming. Born and raised by the Mediterrean, swim she could.

Vivien, who a couple weeks ago, when I bailed out of drinks (explaining I had to be at my grandmother's place as my parents were on vacation on the premises I would stay with Granny who's 94) wrote me "I'm thinking of giving up"

We spoke afterwards and she said she was a bit overwhelmed with her kid, but the thought is there

Goodbye my friend. You were awesome. I don't believe in an afterlife. But I do belive you left a sign. So many people were crying at your funeral. We miss you already


Did I disappoint you, or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty
I'll let the judges frown

And as you move on, remember me, remember us and all we used to be
Goodbye my friend

Don't forget your vitamins, your water and your km to run. And say goodbye to Grandfather

My Grandfather finally passed away yesterday.
There's nothing there to be said, besides that at least he went in peace.

I've been good with my training program. I'm running 21km per week (gonna increase that progressively, but I don't think I'll get above 25km). Basically I run 5 to 7km twice weektime early in the morning and 10km on Sunday afternoons. On top, I do pull-ups, abs and lounges after running, and I do the 30days shred by Jillina Michales twice during the week. (Basically it's 3 circuits, each with 3min strength, 2min cardio and 1min abs, but it is intense).

S is gonna be in Rome for the next two weeks; I expect a significant upside for my restricting, although I will join him next weekend and man, Roman food is the most exquisite in the world, so that may be dangerous.

On Saturday I went shopping and refused to purchase trousers - until I lose a lot of weight, that is.

I started 2014 at 140.4lbs (63.7kg, BMI22.3) . SHAME ON ME

I'm currently at 135.6lbs (61.5kg, BMI 21.5).

On April 6 I'm running a 10km run with my boss. My goal is 55 minutes. My weight goal is to be 57kg by then, and 55kg bu May15 (when I'll go to Crete on vacation).

This is achievable. It is. So yes, water, vitamins and training.