I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Saturday night. Last night, I attended my first game at Petco Park, the new home of the San Diego Padres. Because there is no parking at the ballpark (don't ask!), this entailed driving to the old stadium (Qualcomm), parking, catching a trolley, and then walking from the trolley station to the park. I think I liked it better the old way, honestly. In any case, I had awesome seats, about 15 rows directly behind home plate, from which to watch my beloved Padres lose to the Rockies. Boo hiss. I must say that I wasn't impressed with the ballpark at all, it's just a very generic, very boring venue, with nothing special or unique to recommend it. San Diego is a wonderful, beautiful city and we now have a really boring ballpark stuck in the middle of downtown with no parking. Wow, I'm so glad I voted yes on Proposition C (the initiative that authorized the building of what would become Petco).
In other news, I am leaving on yet another vacation very early tomorrow morning. I will be spending the better part of the next eight days in and about Grand Junction, Colorado. I'm going to explore the (beautiful) surrounding countryside and just soak up as much relaxation as I can. I'm hoping to get some natural activity (hiking) in every day in addition to the five days (minimum) of walking I'll do in the fitness center at my hotel. (Yes, I know that I could be out walking in the beautiful outdoors, but I really hate the heat and I don't want to deal with it while I'm specifically trying to get my walking in.) I've got my Deep Woods Off bug repellant ready to go (I am like chum on the water for any and all mosquito type insects) as well as my sunscreen and a hat, so here's hoping that the altitude and the heat don't kill my energy and leave me looking at the beautiful scenery from the comfort of an air conditioned car. My eating plan is, basically, to make the best choices possible given the options available to me at each meal. I'm going to pay attention to my body so that I can tell when it's full and stop eating when it's had enough. I am only really hoping to maintain next week because I fear that I will eat more than I usually do, but we shall see when I return.
With that, I'm off to finish packing. The shuttle comes at 4:30am (yes, I know, I was surprised that they still had that in the morning, too) and I'd like to get a few hours of sleep before then.
Forgiving myself and other things I did on Wednesday
Thursday morning. I've talked before about some of the less than proud moments of my past, so I'm not going to go into it all again today. For reasons unrelated to this journal, the feelings of self loathing and disgust bubbled back to the surface yesterday, leaving me questioning whether I was truly worthy of being loved by someone decent, kind, and loving. Strangely, at no point did I seriously consider a binge as an antidote to those feelings, although the thought did make one or two lazy passes through my consciousness. I don't know if it might have made more of an effort if I hadn't had a wonderful friend to talk to (thank you, J) who reassured me that I am worthy of love, am not dirty, cheap, and all used up, and that a decent, kind, and loving man would, indeed, be happy and joyful to have me in his life.
In the aftermath of yesterday's drama, it feels as though I have an intense feelings hangover. This is actually something I've experienced several times since attending the Geneen Roth seminar last month and making a concerted effort to let myself really experience my feelings instead of just shoving them away or eating around them. Sometimes it makes me want to pace or fidget or scream or cry. At first, I got pretty freaked out by those urges and shoved the feelings away until the urge to do something odd passed and then I stopped and thought about it for a little while and realized that, if what my body wanted to do when faced with the emotion was pace, I could pace the floor and nothing bad would happen. If it helped me deal with my emotions to cry or scream or turn off the TV because it was grating on my last nerve, I could do any and all of those things, and so that's what I do now. It requires truly being inside my body and listening to it - what it wants, what it needs, how it's feeling - and then doing what it tells me. You want to hear something funny? My body never tells me to binge. Never. Not once. It tells me about the twitchiness in my legs when I'm uncomfortable or the pain in my temples when I feel overwhelmed but it's never told me that it's hungry and needs a skip loader full of food shoved into my mouth as quickly as possible. Huh. Imagine that - my binges aren't in response to anything physical at all, it's all in my mind. Now isn't that reassuring?
So much time, so little (of any importance) to say
Tuesday afternoon. I actually got up, ate breakfast, took a shower, and went to work today. Most of you are probably saying, "Yeah? So what? So did I!" Don't forget, though, I'm on vacation right now. Ha! No, I'm not some freak of nature that can't leave work at work when they're out of the office, I just had several things that I knew needed to be done and couldn't wait until I got back into the office, so I went in for a couple of hours and took care of them. (Besides, one of my team members has a birthday right after I get back, so I took a card in and put it in another team member's office so that it can be circulated before the big day, and I wanted to drop a personal note off for the new team member whose first day will be while I'm gone - if I can't be there in person then a handwritten note of welcome seems the least I can do.) I am now feeling smug and satisfied. Honestly, really smug. Is this how people who don't procrastinate and actually get things done long before the deadline feel? I like this much better than stressing and worrying and then working like a fiend, so perhaps it's time to reconsider the whole "put it off until tomorrow" world view?
You know what makes me really angry? Men who "fall out of love" with women who gain weight, that's what. I'm sorry, but Love - real, honest to goodness love - doesn't depend on the size of your butt or your waist or your bust. Love is all about finding someone that is yin to your yang, whose annoying habits make you laugh, and someone who makes you want to be a better wo/man. That's love. The fact that she looks awesome in a sweater or that when he wears 501s he makes you swoon is a nice bonus feature, but, and here's the big thing, that's not love. Besides, in 20 years you're both going to change pretty drastically and, one would presume, you'll still be together then because you're in love and that's sort of the point. This tirade applies in the opposite direction, too. There are some men who love larger women, and, if they really love you, it shouldn't matter if you lose weight after you're dating, especially because it's better for your health and they should want you to be healthy. [Please note that this isn't about me or anyone in particular, just something that's been on my mind for a long time and decided to come out today.]
Today marks Day 31 of the TPC and I'm still right on track. My walk last night seemed strangely easy, even though I went just as far as I did on Sunday when it seemed like the biggest drudge ever. (Meta could be right when he says that my body is going to adapt to the demands I put on it.) I don't want to seem blase about it because I'm still pretty stunned at how well things are going. My pre-meal blood sugars are around 120 and my two hour post meal readings are between 130 and 150, which is not bad considering that they were over 200 not that long ago. I still have lots of work to do, but it's very satisfying to see the progress I've made and continue to make. I really think that the difference this time is my focus on my health, rather than the need to lose weight to boost my self esteem. I'm working on improving my body image and esteem separately and trying to detach them from the size of my body, so as not to confuse the issues.
I'm grateful for so many things right now. My health, my job, the great people I work with, my family, my relationship with God, my house, my beautiful bed and luxurious linens, and the flowering plants on my balcony are all things that I'm very thankful for. What I'm most grateful for though is friendship, both on and offline. To know that people care about what happens to me and to be able to care about them in the same way is one of the greatest blessings ever and I'm so glad to be able to celebrate that.
Monday afternoon. Yes, I've turned into one big ball of Sloth since starting my vacation. OK, so I've gotten all of the laundry done, changed all the linens (curtains, bed skirt, duvet cover, sheets, throw pillows) in my bedroom over to the summer set, and washed the slipcover for the couch, but I am just not accomplishing nearly as much as I'd like. Today's excuse is that "nothing is open, so why bother". I'm actually not absolutely certain that the recycle center and Goodwill are closed today in observance of yesterday's holiday, but that's my excuse and I'm sticking with it.
One thing I've not been slacking on, however, is the TPC. I increased my walk time on Saturday, right on schedule, and even went out last night - TTOM cramps and general weepiness in tow. Unfortunately, I ran into some teenagers with an attitude (do they come any other way?) who forced me to alter my usual route, which irritated me because I was suddenly transported back to 1983 when I was a scared little teenager myself and constantly got picked on and teased by the popular kids. I'm 36, for pity's sake, and I'm not a defenseless kid now. Heck, I'm probably old enough to be their mother and I should have just walked right through their lazy little blocking-the-sidewalk-so-that-productive-members-of-society-can't-get-on-with-their-lives clique and briskly said, "excuse me" over my shoulder. I, essentially, did just that on the way out (I do an out and back walking route), but then, by the time I was on my way back, they'd lost all ability to support themselves in a standing position and were lying across the sidewalk. (Seriously. Lying across the sidewalk. Do you know what my mother would have done if she'd ever seen me doing that at their age? No? Neither do I, but I just know it wouldn't have been fun and my friends wouldn't have been happy, either.) I just decided not to fight it and took a little detour but it still irritates me to think that I let what other people - even punk kids - think of me make me feel badly about myself. Must work on that.
OK, just checked their websites and, apparently, both the recycle center and Goodwill are open today. Darn, no more excuses!
UPDATE: Shamed by my admission of abject laziness, I managed to separate my tushie from the comfy couch it's working on becoming one with this week and made it to the recycle center and Goodwill, plus, as a bonus, I put gas in the car. I rock!
Sunday morning. Just as our brave forefathers did 228 years ago, I am declaring my intention to seek independence, through whatever means necessary, from a tyrannical ruler that will not allow me to live my life in the manner of my choosing.
With that understanding, I hereby declare these truths to be self-evident:
1. All people are worthy of love and respect, both from others and from themselves, and such love and respect cannot be contingent upon a waist size or the number on a scale. If someone doesn't love and worship you totally and completely for the living, breathing god or goddess that you are, they're not worth your time. If they say that you'd be "so much prettier/more handsome if you lost some weight" or "I'm just not as attracted to you when you're fat", they're not worth your time. No discussion. No "well, but I was thin when they met me". No. Either they love you, which is unconditional, or they don't.
2. If someone decides that they are happy with themselves, at any weight they choose, they should not be shamed or shunned or scolded for that choice. We all have the right to choose what shape or size our bodies should be and no one has the right to make us feel badly about that choice.
3. Every body (and everybody) is different and those differences should be celebrated, not reviled. When did it become so powerfully important that we all look just like the girls in fashion magazines or professional athletes? Gandhi didn't fit in. The Dalai Lama doesn't fit in. Conventional people rarely achieve greatness. Embrace your differences, share them with the world.
Happy Independence Day, America - let freedom ring.
