Saturday, August 27, 2011
I'm glad I'm able to realize this early on, instead of letting it spiral out of control. It's harder to keep track of my workouts when I'm not at the gym, especially when I don't write them down. I've been biking, a lot, but it still doesn't feel like enough. I still have 50+ pounds to go until I am where I want to be, where I have wanted to be for over a decade.
I am going to blame happiness. The ever sought after thing, companionship. Things with D are good. They are SO good. I am not trying to escape things like I once was, the gym being a way for me to do that. Maybe I need to start looking at it as a way for me to escape these negative thoughts about myself. I know I feel better when I exercise. I know I feel better when I eat right, don't feel bloated and disgusting all of the time. I know I feel better when I get on the scale every morning and the number has dropped, or remained the same.
As a food addict, the giving up the greasy burgers, the french fries, the ice cream... that's the hard part. Maybe not giving up, but eating in moderation. Have you ever tried Weight Watchers? Does it work? Did it work?
I need someone to hold me accountable. I also need to get my apartment back in order. It is always very apparent to me my mental state when I look around and see the state of mess my apartment is in. My mental state right now is "crazy and clinging to anything that will make me seem less so."
That being said, I am going to go shop.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Depression. Hard and fast and unrelenting. Sometimes triggered by one thing or another, or an accumulation of certain things, sometimes there is no one real reason. Triggers can be any number of things, though are usually self-inflicted self-doubts.
Friends and loved ones can see it through frayed nerve endings that are exposed in quick tempers and emotional outbursts that are undeserved and at the same time, uncontrolled.
Not an "I want to die" kind of feeling, or even "I wish I could/would/should die". More of a desire to crawl into a hole for the next twelve days.
Sleep either comes too often too soon, or not at all. Appetite uncontrollable, or non-existent.
Trying to find meaning in certain things that may not have a meaning or a reason or a purpose. Refusing to properly punctuate my sentences forcing them into eye-bleed run-on's simply because that is how my mind is currently working. Desire to consume vast amounts of chocolate, lay in a tub of ice, sink into sweet oblivion for only a short while.
I could be writing in metaphors. I could be speaking the truth. .
Lack of motivation for anything, but still able to go about the motions, no one really being any wiser. No one other than those who knew me when, or know me now, well enough to see my fragile splintered self for who I really am.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Fall asleep empty, wake much the same. New dawn, sore and bleeding crimson and orange.
I am not who I define myself as, I know there is so much more.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
By fourth and fifth grade we were riding all the way to the public pool during the days to swim. We would pack lunches and ride out on the Cottonmill trail (about three miles) and spend the day riding on the dirt trails of Old Father Prairie, or swimming in the toilet-bowl-blue watering hole. When you are eleven years old, your bike is your freedom.
Around the age of 14, and my bike was no longer "cool". I had friends who could drive, and I would not be seen around town peddling my little pink ten speed. I didn't get on a bike again until last year.
I got a brand new bike from my parents for my birthday. I rode it a few times last summer, and then didn't touch it again until this spring when I rode it once from my parent's house to my apartment. I had MEANT to, but had just never gotten around to it. I was too busy walking, or jogging, and Aiden wasn't quite fluent enough to take riding on the streets. So my bike sat, in the corner of my living room. Until D walked into my life.
I have always loved to ride my bike, don't get me wrong, I just never really had the full opportunity to fall in love with it again in the way I loved it when I was younger. Until now. D and I have been riding on trails with our children numerous times, and I've slowly started to get my grove back. I'm slowly losing the fear of crashing, getting my bike legs working, and my butt has become used to spending time on the seat.
Yesterday, I hopped on my bike and rode to the gym. It was liberating. It was freeing. Today, I thought about doing the same thing, but instead decided to keep going. I put my headphones on, turned my iPod up, and for an hour and a half I just rode.
Up hills, and down hills, and around bends and turns and curves. I felt the wind on my face and at my back. I coasted downhill at speeds I haven't reached outside of an automobile in close to a decade and a half. I have visions of traveling to do biking races. In building up my endurance for long distances. In doing some dirt trails, and forest trails, and more and more hills.
I have heard people talk about finding their "thing". I hear runners talk about the high they get after a really intense run. I have heard people talk about how doing this one thing makes them happy, lets them be who they are; and it's still early, but I think I have found that.
Now what the hell am I going to do once it snows?
Monday, August 15, 2011
Mother. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Writer. Cook. Artist. Hanson fan.
All of these titles I am comfortable with and within. I have spent a large chunk of my life altering all of these categories and people who fit into them, in order to make my life make sense.
I am a mother to a wonderful little boy who I cannot imagine a day without, even on the days when he's driving me crazy. I am a daughter to the two most amazing people on this planet. They are the type of people who others aspire to be like, and I am honored to be their daughter, even on the days when I sense their disappointment. I am a sister to my best friend. She is another amazing person who inspires people. Being a sister was something I wasn't really good at until I was older. I am a very fierce friend. My friends are my family, and that is why I choose to surround myself with these people. I have had some very toxic friendships in the past, and this is the one part of my life that I have been able to shape and to mold, and along the way I have met and loved some amazing and unique people. There is no rhyme or reason to my group of friends, other than they are all good people. Wonderful people.
There is one title that I've never been able to grow accustomed to, or know where my place in it belongs. Girlfriend. I over think things, and I'm a worrier. I've fallen in love with and lost too many times for my fragile little heart, and through all of that I've learned something about other people, but more important, I've managed to learn a lot about myself. I now know the things I will not tolerate in a relationship, and the little pieces that seem to fit best with mine.
D will tell me to stop freaking out. It is sometimes just what I need to hear. To give me the reality check that I don't need to fix things that aren't broken, and I don't need to find something broken, because there sometimes isn't anything to find. More times than not in the past few weeks I have had to shake my head at myself, tell myself to "stop it" and go about my life.
I am shell-shocked when it comes to love.
D is one of the most amazing men I've met in my life. (and I know he'll be reading this, too. *waves*) He is easy to talk to, and he makes me happy. It really is as simple as that. Or to me it is.
So one of my goals for this month was "be comfortable in the silences". I am working on it. I fall asleep in strong arms, even breathing, light kisses, and I am full of the silence.
And it is beautiful.
So in becoming one with the silences, I have also been able to fall into the roll as Girlfriend. It's not always easy for me, letting someone else drive the reigns some of the time, but it is fulfilling. It makes me happy. It makes me happy to make him happy.
We have been melding our little families together, and for the most part, we are functioning. Four boys and me. Dirt and water and smiles and screams of pure joy. BBQ grilling and movie watching and bike riding. Sweating and kissing and being.
Hello life. Hello happiness. Where the hell have you been?
Monday, August 8, 2011
I am not a vegetarian, or a fruitarian. I do not keep a close eye on my sodium intake, and even though I've been trying to watch the amount of cholesterol I consume (bad cholesterol screening...) I still enjoy my eggs with their yolks, and cheese. Never underestimate the healing power of cheese. It's good on pretty much anything, or even by itself. It's delicious when it is melted, or when it's in block form.
My comfort foods are macaroni and cheese (especially since I've perfected the perfect combination of other ingredients to stir in), chips and salsa, chocolate and peanut butter, and mashed potatoes. There are not very many things that I WILL NOT eat, but there are a large number of things I prefer.
Over the last two years, I have managed to lose upwards of about 50 pounds by simply stepping up my activity level. I didn't watch what I was putting into my body nearly as much as I made sure I was getting my heart rate elevated for an hour or more six or seven times a week. I started eating more fruits and veggies, mainly because my body started craving them more. (side note: getting healthy is EXPENSIVE. getting fat is relatively cheap.) I have about 45-50 more pounds that I want to lose, and over the last month or so I have been experimenting with several different types of "diets".
They pretty much translate into vegetarian diets with loads of whole oats/grains/nuts. I lost about 5 pounds in a week when I was sticking to it a few weeks ago. The hard part? I have a seven year old. He eats pretty well, but he wont eat the concoctions I've managed to come up with, with rice and beans and cooked veggies. And I REALLY like macaroni and cheese.
I guess I just wanted to write this all down as a form of release, to forgive myself for eating that extra bowl of creamy noodley goodness for dinner tonight, to say out loud that this losing weight thing really sucks.
Quitting smoking over two years ago was easy compared to this. I just had to not light the cigarette. But this? Time consuming, money hungry, royal pain in my ass. When I quit smoking, it really helped to be able to say "I really want a cigarette. Really. Really." and then be able to walk away from it. I can't just say I want to eat, and then NOT eat.
Anyone want to come over and help me get all of the crap out of my cupboards and help me start over from scratch?
(I really, REALLY want some chocolate right now.)
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
- go to the gym 15 times.
- lose 5 lbs.
- follow for 9 days STRAIGHT the fat smash diet and exercise program.
-buy or rent a beginning yoga dvd and try to find out what all this hype is about.
- do Jillian Michael's 30 day shred TWICE this month. Lower expectations and maybe I'll surprise myself.
- make and document at least one new meal a week.
- take Aiden back to school shopping.
- be more of a help than a hindrance in D's packing and moving.
- allow myself to be comfortable in the silences.
Monday, August 1, 2011
- go the gym 15 times.
I went 14 times.
- lose 5 lbs.
I lost 6.
- start and finish TWO books.
Started and finished Catching Fire, started and am halfway through Mockingjay.
- go for evening walks at the track at least three days a week.
other than one week where it was over 110 degree heat index all week, I managed to do three times a week. Last week I only did two. I've been making time to visit my boyfriend and the one thing that could be cut without any real significant upheaval was the walking.
- do the 30 day shred once a week.
Monumental FAIL. Didn't do this once.
- breathe deeply.
There have been a couple of rough patches where my patience has been tested, but I have managed to power through it.
- write, then throw away/save to a file on my computer some strongly worded letters to a few people in which I will NEVER send. This is the important part. NEVER SEND!
Wrote them in my journal, tore them out, tore them up, and threw them away. Very therapeutic, and step one in trying to forgive the past.
- call my sister more often.
I am going to count this one as a win. Didn't talk to her as often as I would have liked, but talked to her more than usual.
- try to cook one new thing each week, and document.
Half win. I did manage to cook something new each week, but I didn't document. Food doesn't stay around me intact very often.
week 1: rice and black beans fried rice.
week 2: pesto chicken stuffed shells.
week 3: quinoa and black beans and tomatoes
week 4: Brazilian lemonade (which was REALLY good with some coconut rum mixed into it), and tortellini pasta salad.
I apologize for being late on goal posting this month, I'll hopefully get this month's goals up by tomorrow.