The last time I saw Margaret, I did as promised. I really gave it to her, I was relentless. I just kept asking why? Why is it that I want to lose weight but I don’t do the things I need to do to lose the weight? We went back and forth until finally she said to me “You have to do the work.” Where have I heard that before? Let me see … my entire life. I have to do the work. I have to do the work. Dammit, it is so hard to do the work. At least for me. Its so much easier to give in and settle for the easy choice rather than struggle with a choice. I can just fulfill this, and then I feel better. I get what I want, and there’s no conflict. What’s wrong with that? Oh right, it makes me fat! Margaret recommended that I do some writing to help me work through how to get myself to do the work. She suggested that instead of just blogging about whatever thoughts I have on my mind, that I actually tried to answer specific questions. Like when I exhibit a behavior that I want to change, ask myself why I did what I did. So I guess that’s what I’m going to do. Who knows what I will find.
I am wearing one of my “Conference Outfits” today. It looks pretty good, and when I look in the mirror I can almost see me. You know what I mean, not the fat me that is actually in the mirror, but the me I see in my head when I think about how I look in this outfit. The me I feel like inside. Now I just have to translate that into the me I look like on the outside.
I have an appointment with Margaret in just over an hour. When I see her, I am going to tell her “No more goofing around. Tell me how to do this. Tell me how to keep my weight loss goal utmost in my mind.” I have had enough of her stringing me a long. I want answers, and I want them now. I want her to tell me the secret to changing my behavior and thinking.
So I am getting back into the habit of blogging daily. I already missed yesterday. OMG, I got home from my trip Sunday evening, but the exhaustion didn’t really hit me until Tuesday afternoon. I left work a few minutes early Tuesday, drove home, walked through the door, put on my pajamas, and was asleep within 5 minutes. I took a 3 hour nap, got up to have a bite of dinner and watch a little TV, then back to bed to sleep for 12 more hours. When I finally got up at nearly noon Wednesday, I decided to stay home and lay on the couch. I took a short 1.5 hour nap in the afternoon, had dinner with my sister (at my house) and then to bed again. Today I feel more like myself than I have in weeks; except for the slowly dissipating burning and pain in my feet – from walking around the conference for 5 days. Even my comfortable “convention shoes” can only do so much. I think if I weighed less, my feet and knees would hurt less – even on those unforgiving concrete floors.
Hell, everything would hurt less if I weighed less. Duh! I don’t know what my mental block is. I sit here whining about how much I want to lose the weight, all the while there is ice cream in my freezer calling my name. How is it possible that I want two so completely opposite things at the same time – the food, and the weight loss. I cannot have both. I have to choose. I hate choosing. Once you choose one thing, you eliminate all other possibilities. Maybe that’s why I never chose a husband, or career. I just sort of fell into the job I have (I am so lucky). I don’t think I will “fall into” weight loss. I am going to have to work at this.
The weird thing is, I already know I can do it. I have done it. I have already proved it. So what is the damn problem. Uh, that is why I keep seeing Margaret. To help me to break through this barrier that keeps me from achieving true happiness. I want it, I deserve it, I am going to have it.
I am so tired. I am back from my company’s annual event, and now I am even more tired then when I left. The last month I have been working very long days, 60-65 hours per week. Last week was the event and I got an average of 5.25 hours sleep each night. Yikes! With some careful shopping and mindful packing, I was able to pull together a professional wardrobe. I looked fine, not good, but fine.
I also got my hair cut – twice, and I still hate it. I won’t bore you with the whole long story, suffice it to say that I grew my hair out for 10 months so that I would have lots of options for my “new look”. I searched high and low for a real creative hair stylist and made the appointment. I received a mediocre haircut at a fashion salon price. When I questioned the way my hair was laying, the stylist took a big hunk and cut me bangs and said “there, how is that?”. When I relayed the story to a new co-worker, she suggested I see her guy. He wasn’t available on short notice so I went to the gal in his salon and got a slightly better hair cut, but now it is too short. Plus she left the highlights on too long and they look awful. So instead of looking amazing at my event this year (like I planned after last year’s event), I look … meh.
Working so much and being so tired, has made it easy for me to excuse my terrible eating: ice cream, cookies, cheese – all the no-nos. I have to get back to more conscious eating, and that includes my daily blogging. It’s good to be back.
P.S. It has been so long since I have enjoyed the company of a man, I am feeling quite overwhelmed with feelings of desire. Where is George Clooney when I need him?
As I stand here
in the dark night
looking up at the bright full moon
thinking about myself, myself out there in the big world, and
Valentine’s Day love, loneliness, happiness,
As I stand here
in the dark night
looking up and smiling at the bright full moon,
I wonder if the man who someday will love me wholly and fully,
for all that I am,
is perhaps at this very moment
also standing in the dark night,
looking up and smiling at the bright full moon.
I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. I am still alive, still fat, and still struggling. At the moment things are crazy at work, as they are every year at this time. It is 7 pm and I have just finished for the day. Like so many days recently, I wanted to go online and blog, but I am so tired and so bleary eyed I don’t. This time however, I did it. I feel better already.
Weight Watchers combined with my sessions with Margaret were working great until I had some emotional anxiety and (easily) went back to my old ways. I am still losing, but I really haven’t made any strides in my progress in about a month.
My emotional anxiety was the loss of my kitty. He had lymphoma for about a year, and his care has been time-consuming and stressful but totally worth it because he was able to stay around so long. Finally though, he was not himself anymore and I had to make the tough decision to end his suffering. It wasn’t easy, he was my snuggle-buggle. He was a great cat. He would sit at the window and watch for me in the parking lot, and when I came through the front door, he was always right there and happy to see me. He let me hug and kiss on him, and was always ready to take a nap on my lap. I really miss his furry little face.
The anxiety at work is also a trigger to resort to my old ways. I am trying very hard to keep up with my new healthier routines, but it is hard to rewrite 40 years of programming in just a few months. I am going to be fat again at our company’s annual event – I always use that time as a marker for my progress. I only hope I can pull together enough decent pieces of clothing to put together a professional wardrobe to last 6 days.
Over the last 7-8 months I have gained about 50 pounds. Even though my size has changed, my bras have not. I have been wearing the same bras and pushing them to their limits. Because I am pulling them so tight, and stretching them so far, the 2 vertical wires on each side have been poking me under the arms. And the wire under the cups is about to burst through the fabric and into my cleavage. They are so worn that when I washed 2 of the 4, they came out of the washer destroyed; wires poking every which way and fabric twisted like crepe paper streamers. So I bit the bullet and bought 2 new ones.
I went to Lane Bryant. They have great bras, I especially like the Full Coverage Satin bra – great coverage, support, comfort, and overall look under clothes. But my god, the size. I had to get a 46F. Holy crap. That is ridiculous, cartoonish. I don’t even look like a woman any longer – more like a Macy’s parade float. Blah!