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. Do you have any idea how much you've changed my life just in the five months I've known you? My mother told me from the very beginning that I'd get more out of this than you would and, boy, has she ever been proven right. When I see your quick, shy smile and hear your un-self conscious giggle, my heart constricts with amazement at the knowledge that I have been blessed with such a child in my life. Thanks to you, I no longer question if my life has meaning because I know that you need me and that I make a difference in your life. When you said, "it was good to see you today," as I was leaving today, I nearly cried because it was the first time you'd acknowledged that I might be important to you. I've had no children and probably never will, but, through you, I have found a way to express the maternal instincts that have lain dormant for years and years now.
I will be here for you, always. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. I will keep my word to you and will always make sure that you know how special you are to me. When I cease being your CASA on your 18th birthday, that will be the end of our legal relationship, but I can't imagine losing touch with you. I plan to help you move into your dorm, watch you play football in front of 100,000 screaming fans, and attend your collge graduation. You are one of the most important parts of my life, right after my parents, and I hope you know that you can always count on me.
Small, little, baby steps and big, scary things, too
Friday morning. I am so glad that it's Friday! I'm spending tomorrow morning with Alcott and his younger brother tomorrow to celebrate his brother's birthday. We're going to a place called Inflatable World, a place with lots of inflatable attractions that they can jump in, slide down, and generally do boy-type things with. What will I be doing while they're doing that? Why, snapping 10,000 pictures for posterity, of course! Yes, I am that obnoxious woman you all know who takes so many pictures of her kids that you can practically create an action hero flipbook with them. Alcott and his sibs have gotten so used to it that they usually don't even complain anymore. Woohoo, I'm snapping them into submission! (When did I become my grandma?)
Doing things with Alcott always reminds me that I'll never truly go back to the way I was last summer before the Ten Percent Challenge started because I don't just live for myself and inside myself now. I have five little kids and one CASA buddy who all rely on me to be there for them and, incidentally, think I'm pretty cool. It's sort of selfish, I know, but I just love that I've got them and that unconditional love because it's so darned reassuring. It also forces me to get up and go even when I would rather lie around all weekend instead. So what if my laundry won't get done until the new millenium - I can always buy new! My Junior League buddies are a big help in that regard, too. I've got a BBQ Saturday night with several Junior Leaguers, plus I've already been contacted by one of my committee chairs to confirm my participation on her committee. With commitments to friends and work groups within the League, it's just another tie that binds me to the outside world and keeps me from retreating into a shell on the couch.
Finally, frighteningly, I might have met someone. Someone male. I don't want to jinx it because, Lord knows, my luck in this area is not good, but I talked on the phone last night for four hours with a really nice guy that found me through Match.com. When I say that he found me, he's the one that contacted me, not the other way around. He's local, single, gainfully employed, really cute, not hung up on his ex, not living with his parents, not commitment phobic, very tall, very cute, and intelligent. Now, I realize that it's entirely possible that he'll never call back and that last night was the last time I'll hear from him, but it was still really nice to have a fun conversation with someone who could actually be someone I'd go out with. Of course, that's also totally terrifying because I feel like the Goodyear blimp right now and I was thinking, in the back of my head, the entire time we were talking, "how are you going to stall meeting him for another 10 weeks so that you can become Slim, Happy, and Confident Girl again???" I don't think I can meet him face to face until I've at least started on the road to being that girl again because, otherwise, I'll be so uncomfortable in my own skin and so insecure that he won't ever want a second date. (Look at me, already planning a first date - how needy and pathetic is that?) I'm thinking that I can reasonably put it off, should I even be lucky enough to get a return call, for a couple of weeks, but he's going to think there's something seriously wrong with me if I stall any further than that. Gah, GAH, GAH, why did I let myself get to this place? Why didn't I meet this nice, seemingly normal guy when I was thinner, happier, and more together??? Must maintain. Must. Maintain.
Lord, I'm so hungry right now. All the Mexican food in the world would not be enough for the hunger I'm feeling. How am I ever going to deal with stuff like this without food? Oh my gosh, what if he figures out that I'm a freak who eats until she feels sick just to make herself feel better??? This cannot continue. I have to figure out another compulsion or something...there must be a publicly acceptable addictive behavior, mustn't there? I'm going to go Google "compulsive behaviors" and choose another one. Back later.
Thursday morning. I'm fairly certain that I'm fighting through a depressive episode again. The laundry just sits there, my plants on the balcony are withering and dying because I don't water them, assignments at work aren't getting done, and I feel like the world's biggest slug. I can't stand it when I'm like this and I know that it looks like plain, old laziness from the outside and maybe that's all that it is except that I know how it feels inside. It's as if just getting off of the couch would be the hardest thing I've ever done. Writing my self appraisal? Tougher than reading (and following) War and Peace. I just let everything go and am pleased that I manage to get up, shower, get dressed, and make it to work each day. This sucks and, if I weren't such a coward and anti-drug person, I'd go out and get a prescription for something that would make this (just about) monthly joy go away. Did I mention the fact that the one thing I do like doing when I'm like this is binge eating? Oh, joy!
I want to be that girl from a few months ago who had the world on a string. I want to be light and happy and not feel like the fattest thing in the world with no clothes that fit. Seriously, I've outgrown my clothes and, since I was Miss "I'm in control of this thing and will be a size 14 in no time", I tossed all of my size 20 and 22 stuff out months ago. Now each morning's battle to get up and get to work is complicated by the fact that I have nothing to wear. Any idea how much it's killing me to have to go out and buy size 20 clothes?
It's like I said back on March 31 - I'm just not sure if I will be able to do it again...find that whatever it takes to want to be healthy more than I want to eat. So, to Anonymous, who so kindly told me to "get a grip", um, yeah, I knew what I was talking about when I said it was a slippery slope and that I could feel myself falling back into the hole of darkness and terror where nothing but food can save me. Aren't you glad that you belittled how I was feeling? I know that I am.
Wednesday morning. I'm doing something a little crazy tonight - I'm going to a "dinner and a movie" event for a local social club. I've never done anything with the club, but my membership expires next month and I thought I ought to give it a chance before allowing it to expire. I'm not even sure which movie we'll be seeing and that's fine. (I hope the other members aren't creepy.)
Not that anyone except me cares, but the sight of my little girl kitty, Abby, curled up and sleeping on the back of the couch, makes my whole body unclench and relax. I'm not sure why I decided to share that with the world but there you go.
Tuesday morning. Well, I started the six week walking program in the Walk Away the Pounds book yesterday and so far, so good. I'm not consciously trying to do anything with my eating at this point and I'm not trying to walk 3-5 miles, I'm just going slow and steady. We'll see how this works out but, given that my weight and measurements pretty much completely appalled me when I took them for the "before" yesterday, something's got to give, folks! I now weigh just over 223 pounds! I've gained back over 20 pounds that I lost - 20! Do you know how hard I worked to lose that and I gave it back through Mexican food, desserts on the road, and laziness. Gosh that makes me angry, but there's nothing I can do about it now and I have to just move forward. Six weeks takes me right up to the 4th of July holiday, so we shall see what I can accomplish (with moderation) before then.
For those still attempting to stick with the Do It For (My) Daddy Challenge, here's what this week holds:
1. If you're at your "healthy" weight, you're still doing 30 minutes of activity each and every day. If you need to lose weight for your health (as I do), you're up to 39 minutes of activity every day. Remember that you can break that up into three 13 minute sessions or two 19.5 minute sessions - whatever it takes to get them in.
2. You're taking a physical and mental break from your work area at least once a day. Extra points if you choose to do something relaxing (reading, listening to music, meditating) while you're away, but the Challenge only says that you have to get away from your work area.
3. You're working on improving the way that you eat. More fruits and veggies, less junk/high fat, cholesterol, and sodium foods.
4. New for this week! If you smoke, start cutting back. I suggest the 10% rule here, too. Take the amount of cigarettes you normally smoke in a day and cut it back by 10%. Nothing too scary, just a step in the right direction.
By the way, Daddy's doing pretty well with his challenge, too. He's allowed to drive again, but he's still challenged by the eating and exercising components of his recovery plan. I'm sure we can all sympathize with the pain of having to give up certain foods and give in to the thought that exercise will have to be a daily part of your life forever and ever. Not pleasant, not life affirming - not at first. Keep him in your thoughts and prayers if you would.
