6's & 7'S
and all things crazy
I know people, a lot of people, that don't have regular bowel movements, so I thought it would be a great public service for me to tell them how to do it. It's easy. Take it from me.
You get up every morning, drink a pot of coffee, and run to the bathroom. Simple.
Oh, wait, that didn't work? Okay, drink more water.
You already drink your weight in water each day? Hmmm.
Increase the fiber in your diet.
You eat so much fiber that the plants in your house cower when you look at them? Well...
Try exercise. Massage. Enemas. Suppositories. Medications. Aloe juice.
No? How about visualization? Hot stones? Prayer? Rubbing a rabbit's foot?
Huh (Eyebrow raised). Well, you must be doing something wrong, then.
Now, I'm really not that stupid or insensitive. I do realize that everyone's body is different and those that suffer from chronic constipation have, pretty much, tried everything to relieve it. I don't believe they sit around and stuff their bodies with crap they know will make it worse. I'm sure it must be a frustrating and painful experience, one that I have zero experience with. I'm lucky. I don't worry about it. I don't 'think' about it. I don't wake up every day with a stomach ache, hoping today is the day I can get some relief. it is not a part of my life that forces me to consider everything I put in my mouth, or every activity that I do.
But being overweight is. And it is frustrating, and yes, those of us that are chronically overweight (insert constipated if it helps with the big picture) have tried everything, and do get cranky and feel bad and bitch and moan about it at times. But we aren't necessarily doing anything 'wrong'. Our bodies are different. And while you wake up with a stomach ache, hoping today is relief day, we wake up and jump on a scale, hoping the miles we walked the day before or the salad and water diet we've been on has made the needle go down just a tiny bit.
I don't blame the chronically thin for offering their suggestions. I get it. I don't consider it 'shaming', because I do realize they are trying to be helpful. But it gets old. Just as it would get old if I offered you a fiber bar for dessert instead of the cheesecake that everyone else is having, just because I know you need it.
So just think about it.
Our bodies are different. What works for one doesn't work for others. Be supportive. And be kind to one another.
And drink that pot of coffee in the morning. Really, it's the key! :)
*****Release Day August 18th*****
When James Morrow, a social worker, first meets Kevin Flynn, he suspects the teen is being abused. To learn more about Kevin’s home life, he gets to know the boy’s father, Tucker, who’s a lobsterman. James is able to put his suspicions to rest, and the two families begin to form a friendship.
When a kid at the local recreation center dies of an overdose, Detective Maya Morrow adds the case to the long list related to the drug problem plaguing the small New Hampshire coastal town of Newborough. But her investigation gets her much too close to the dangerous players.
Both the Morrows and the Flynns are holding dark secrets, and when their lives collide, tragedy is inevitable.
***Special Release Day Price for E-book, Aug 18 only!***
About the Author
Ain’t No Freaking Way aka Why I’ll Never Swim in the Ocean by Dewanna Durbin
You can sum up my life with the phrase “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” *sigh* Let me explain. I’m NOT crazy, contrary to what my family or friends will tell you. I’m a rational, introverted individual who would rather have her nose stuck in a book than verbally interact with most people. People drain me, all the drama, emotions, smells, noise, etc. I love them, but they drain me. Other than a few, I deal better with people on social media than in person. Books, however, are my “Energizer Bunny”, they keep me going and going and going.
The only times I’ve done anything even remotely “crazy” have been around water. The first time was when I was eight years old and Papaw Davis had taken my sister and me fishing after a flood. We were fishing near the bank in an old aluminum boat when I got bored, spied a slender willow tree and decided to “ride it”. Now, for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, riding a tree usually takes place in the spring when the sap starts rising in the trees. You pick a slender tree, climb it, hold on, release your feet and ride it to the ground. It’s a lot of fun for young kids. Just don’t pick one too slender or your ride may be to the hospital. It seemed like a good idea at the time since I loathe fishing. Anyway, Papaw turned around and saw me climbing the tree, started cursing, beat me with his cane fishing pole and promptly deposited me on the bank by the truck with the harshly worded instructions to stay in the truck or he’d beat the living tar out of me. I stayed in the truck.
The next occasion occurred when some girlfriends, who shall remain nameless, talked me into climbing the spillway on the lake and jumping off. I went along to make sure no one slipped and fell into the gate in the middle and drowned. It seemed like a good idea at the time since I don’t make friends easily. I almost had a heart attack. I discovered I don’t like heights, at all. That was the one and only occasion THAT happened.
Then there was the time some friends talked me into climbing the fence at the local country club and swimming in the pool. I went along to make sure no one hit their heads on the diving board and drowned since we were all “slightly” inebriated. It seemed like a good idea at the time since I was the only one who knew CPR. Lost a contact on that one, mother was not pleased and I had to wear my glasses until it could be replaced.
Same girlfriends talked me into skinny dipping one night; we got caught by the local po-po, who I’m now married to (that’s another story). And then another time, floating across the lake on mats the day before one of my best girlfriend’s wedding. We were all sunburned and vaguely resembled the state crustacean after they are boiled alive, both in jerky movement and skin tone. Again, I don’t make friends easily. I only went along to make sure no one drowned.
Do you see a recurring theme here? Now, do you see why I won’t swim in the ocean, well, besides the whole Jaws and sea critters thing? Making sure none of my friends drowns has been a lifelong theme for me. I’m sure on our next girlfriend’s beach trip they’ll have some crazy excuse to get me in the water. I’m terrified they will to try to float across and I’m not THAT crazy. Ain’t no freaking way!
We ALL have a little crazy in us, so I ask: What's the craziest thing you have ever done?
Every week, meet a new person, right here, sharing their story.
Do you have a great crazy story to tell?
Email me or DM me on Twitter or Facebook and get ready to spill your crazy.
And in the meantime, check out:
The Craziest Thing with Darren R. Leo
The Craziest Thing with Derek Flynn
The Craziest Thing with Erica Lucke Dean
The Craziest Thing with Jerry Underhill
The Craziest Thing with Amy Beech
The Craziest Thing with Lorca Damon
Follow me on Twitter @KellySGamble
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Visit my writing blog