It's that time of the month again.
Despite everything, I got on the scale and faced up to the fact that since the last weigh in, things haven't been good and I have no one to blame but myself.
Here are the stats and it isn't pretty:
313 lbs
22.5 stone
142.8 kg
I'm right back where I started: square one. In 2 months, I've come full circle. I've gained back the weight that I lost. It was the shortest yo yo diet I've ever been on.
I don't feel sorry for myself and I'm not beating myself up over it. It is what it is. I will dust myself off and get back up.
Besides, I'm afflicted with a terrible condition: it's a thing called hope and I've got it in spades. Deep down inside, somewhere, I believe, no- I know, that I'm going to pull myself together, close my mouth and fulfill my potential and be my ideal weight.
I've gained weight. I'm no further ahead as far as getting out of my dysfunctional marriage than I was 5 months ago. I agonise over how the divorce will affect the boys. I'm struggling with 2 very different drafts of the same novel that I've been trying to write for the last year.
And yet, I feel happy today. Perhaps it was the sunshine. It could have been the realization that I'm analyzing details too much instead of focusing on outcomes. Or maybe- just maybe- it was the fact that I didn't beat myself up. Maybe today, I'd love myself, faults and all.
Tomorrow, I may be on that slide into despair. But I have today. And I'm full of hope.
Do not worry if you have built your castles in the air. They are where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.
Henry David Thoreau
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Blind In One Eye And Can't See Out The Other
I have been struggling with this post since Monday.
Initially when I started this blog it was in an attempt to get control of my life and more specifically, my weight. As of late, I've blogged about everything else but what I've set out to do. I thought blogging would be kind of an aversion therapy by putting my demons out there in the public domain. Instead, I've realized how serious my avoidance issues are. In my life, I can be accused, tried and convicted of ignoring problems in the hopes that they will just magically disappear. My warped reasoning is that if I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist. Which is what is happening now.
Halfway through to my next weigh in, and I have to admit to struggling. I did the juicing for the prescribed 7 days and on the 7th day, I rested and ate an order of garlic and cheese fries. After only juice all week, it probably wasn't the best food to re-introduce to my digestive tract. Even the book says to ease back into eating. But not me. No, for some strange reason, I think that those rules don't apply to me. The cast iron stomach that I had in my 20's has eroded into a rust bucket.
As to the struggle, I can't explain it. I want to lose weight. I want to take control. Funny, when I was juicing, I felt great. The difference for me was very noticeable. Now, I still juice, irregularly but I do it. Sometimes, I'm not feeling so well, so I juice as a quick pick me upper. It always works.
So, what's the problem? That's just it- I don't know. If juicing makes me feel great, why am I overloading on carbs? I truly don't know the answer to that one. Am I lazy? Am I trying to bury feelings and stress? Or maybe, I don't want to- maybe-just maybe, I want to eat those carbs. Or is it a combination of all of the above plus more? The thought that maybe deep down I really don't want to give up food is overwhelming and maybe more than I can bear. It just can't be. I don't want to be fat! It's not that I want to be thin/slim, I want to be at an optimum level of health for me. And boy do I know that I'm not there now.
My online writer friend, Keris, has a blog, 500 to 40 and by doing so has gently reminded me of the purpose of my own blog. I'm addicted to her blogs- check them out: http://dellasays.wordpress.com/ and http://500to40.wordpress.com/
I constantly refer to this as a struggle. And I'm a big believer in 'thoughts become things.' So perhaps, I'm setting myself up for failure with my thoughts. Or maybe, I just think too much.
I'm off the beaten track but don't worry, I'm clawing my way back.
It isn't until you begin to fight in your own cause that you become committed to winning.
Robin Morgan
Initially when I started this blog it was in an attempt to get control of my life and more specifically, my weight. As of late, I've blogged about everything else but what I've set out to do. I thought blogging would be kind of an aversion therapy by putting my demons out there in the public domain. Instead, I've realized how serious my avoidance issues are. In my life, I can be accused, tried and convicted of ignoring problems in the hopes that they will just magically disappear. My warped reasoning is that if I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist. Which is what is happening now.
Halfway through to my next weigh in, and I have to admit to struggling. I did the juicing for the prescribed 7 days and on the 7th day, I rested and ate an order of garlic and cheese fries. After only juice all week, it probably wasn't the best food to re-introduce to my digestive tract. Even the book says to ease back into eating. But not me. No, for some strange reason, I think that those rules don't apply to me. The cast iron stomach that I had in my 20's has eroded into a rust bucket.
As to the struggle, I can't explain it. I want to lose weight. I want to take control. Funny, when I was juicing, I felt great. The difference for me was very noticeable. Now, I still juice, irregularly but I do it. Sometimes, I'm not feeling so well, so I juice as a quick pick me upper. It always works.
So, what's the problem? That's just it- I don't know. If juicing makes me feel great, why am I overloading on carbs? I truly don't know the answer to that one. Am I lazy? Am I trying to bury feelings and stress? Or maybe, I don't want to- maybe-just maybe, I want to eat those carbs. Or is it a combination of all of the above plus more? The thought that maybe deep down I really don't want to give up food is overwhelming and maybe more than I can bear. It just can't be. I don't want to be fat! It's not that I want to be thin/slim, I want to be at an optimum level of health for me. And boy do I know that I'm not there now.
My online writer friend, Keris, has a blog, 500 to 40 and by doing so has gently reminded me of the purpose of my own blog. I'm addicted to her blogs- check them out: http://dellasays.wordpress.com/ and http://500to40.wordpress.com/
I constantly refer to this as a struggle. And I'm a big believer in 'thoughts become things.' So perhaps, I'm setting myself up for failure with my thoughts. Or maybe, I just think too much.
I'm off the beaten track but don't worry, I'm clawing my way back.
It isn't until you begin to fight in your own cause that you become committed to winning.
Robin Morgan
Friday, January 8, 2010
Cabin Fever
Ireland is in the middle of its longest cold snap since 1963. The temperature has dipped below freezing, the roads are covered in ice and there seems to be no break in the forecast.
As a former Buffalonian, I'm taking this one in stride. Like others, I've been stranded (blizzard of '85), my flight has been delayed (blizzard of 2001) and I've rolled over on many a morning after hearing Danny Neavereth on the radio announce that my school was closed. I love snow days- but that's for another blog.
Ireland, bless her heart, is not prepared for this. The big rain cloud that usually hovers over the island ran off for cover with the arrival of the Artic Blast. Stories abound of burst pipes and car accidents. I can handle the driving despite the fact that there is no such thing as all season radials.
What I can't handle is cabin fever. And I've got a bad case of it.
The boys were let out of school for Christmas break on Dec. 22nd. They were supposed to go back yesterday, Jan. 7th. Despite the visit by Santa, they're bored and I've become their number 1 playmate. Yesterday, I got a text telling me that school would reopen on Monday the 11th. Ok. Then tonight, Batt O'Keefe, the education minister, announced that all schools would remain closed until next Thurs the 14th.
It was at that point that I collapsed on the couch and stuck a knitting needle into the middle of my forehead. All I know is that there are a lot of days between now and next Thursday. I refuse to count them. I don't think I could handle it.
We've played every game, put together every toy and watched every DVD. They were outside yesterday for 30 minutes but they must have come in about 30 times.
"My gloves are wet."
"I don't want to wear a hat."
"My socks are wet."
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"What are you doing?"
"Can you fill the pail with water?"
"Can I eat the snow?"
"Can I come in? I'm cold."
We play swords. A lot. If I simply walk by Daniel, I get, "Hey, Mommy, you want to play swords?" What can I do? I've copped on and now manage to fight from a sitting position and I leave all the running and jumping to the boys. However, the 2 of them together are lethal and despite the fact that they're made of foam(the swords not the boys), I'm the one who usually ends up getting hurt. Michael swings his sword like a bat and I now have to wear the Snake Eyes helmet for protection. Although I must admit the black helmet with the pink, fluffy bathrobe is kind of snazzy.
I invited a few of their friends over for play dates but that deteriorated during one play date when my boys started fighting with each other. The kid yelled, "If you 2 don't stop fighting, I'm going home." This same kid also yelled, "Daniel, stop that shouting," when Daniel tried to impress him with his ninja moves.
It's amazing how the screaming and fighting escalate when I a) get on the phone, b) go to the bathroom and c) start taking my clothes off to get dressed.
If I stretch out on the couch, Daniel will tap me and say "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy," about 400 hundred times until I open my eyes. Michael thinks that because my eyes are closed our faces need to be touching in order for me to know that he's there. Oh don't worry, my darling Michael, Mommy knows you're there.
We had a pajama day one day and now they think every day should be a pyjama day. If I didn't insist they get dressed, they'd still be wearing their pyjamas from Christmas.
Michael has gone through an industrial role of scotch tape and about 500 sheets of printer paper wrapping everything up to send to my mother. If I stand still long enough, he'll probably wrap me up.
Tonight, Daniel clunked by me, his gait unsteady, wearing a pair of roller skates. I like to think that maybe I was hallucinating.
Next Thursday, I don't care if there is 10 feet of snow outside and I have to walk barefoot with the 2 of them on my back. They ARE going back to school.
As a former Buffalonian, I'm taking this one in stride. Like others, I've been stranded (blizzard of '85), my flight has been delayed (blizzard of 2001) and I've rolled over on many a morning after hearing Danny Neavereth on the radio announce that my school was closed. I love snow days- but that's for another blog.
Ireland, bless her heart, is not prepared for this. The big rain cloud that usually hovers over the island ran off for cover with the arrival of the Artic Blast. Stories abound of burst pipes and car accidents. I can handle the driving despite the fact that there is no such thing as all season radials.
What I can't handle is cabin fever. And I've got a bad case of it.
The boys were let out of school for Christmas break on Dec. 22nd. They were supposed to go back yesterday, Jan. 7th. Despite the visit by Santa, they're bored and I've become their number 1 playmate. Yesterday, I got a text telling me that school would reopen on Monday the 11th. Ok. Then tonight, Batt O'Keefe, the education minister, announced that all schools would remain closed until next Thurs the 14th.
It was at that point that I collapsed on the couch and stuck a knitting needle into the middle of my forehead. All I know is that there are a lot of days between now and next Thursday. I refuse to count them. I don't think I could handle it.
We've played every game, put together every toy and watched every DVD. They were outside yesterday for 30 minutes but they must have come in about 30 times.
"My gloves are wet."
"I don't want to wear a hat."
"My socks are wet."
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"What are you doing?"
"Can you fill the pail with water?"
"Can I eat the snow?"
"Can I come in? I'm cold."
We play swords. A lot. If I simply walk by Daniel, I get, "Hey, Mommy, you want to play swords?" What can I do? I've copped on and now manage to fight from a sitting position and I leave all the running and jumping to the boys. However, the 2 of them together are lethal and despite the fact that they're made of foam(the swords not the boys), I'm the one who usually ends up getting hurt. Michael swings his sword like a bat and I now have to wear the Snake Eyes helmet for protection. Although I must admit the black helmet with the pink, fluffy bathrobe is kind of snazzy.
I invited a few of their friends over for play dates but that deteriorated during one play date when my boys started fighting with each other. The kid yelled, "If you 2 don't stop fighting, I'm going home." This same kid also yelled, "Daniel, stop that shouting," when Daniel tried to impress him with his ninja moves.
It's amazing how the screaming and fighting escalate when I a) get on the phone, b) go to the bathroom and c) start taking my clothes off to get dressed.
If I stretch out on the couch, Daniel will tap me and say "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy," about 400 hundred times until I open my eyes. Michael thinks that because my eyes are closed our faces need to be touching in order for me to know that he's there. Oh don't worry, my darling Michael, Mommy knows you're there.
We had a pajama day one day and now they think every day should be a pyjama day. If I didn't insist they get dressed, they'd still be wearing their pyjamas from Christmas.
Michael has gone through an industrial role of scotch tape and about 500 sheets of printer paper wrapping everything up to send to my mother. If I stand still long enough, he'll probably wrap me up.
Tonight, Daniel clunked by me, his gait unsteady, wearing a pair of roller skates. I like to think that maybe I was hallucinating.
Next Thursday, I don't care if there is 10 feet of snow outside and I have to walk barefoot with the 2 of them on my back. They ARE going back to school.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Serendipity
Saturday was a serendipitous day.
Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary describes serendipity as "the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for."
First off, my writer friend, Keris, mentioned in her blog that last year she focused on 'abundance' with some good results. That reminded me that I already knew this, but I needed to start applying it to my own life if I'm ever to escape this financial inertia.
Secondly, another writer friend, Jacqui, in a comment to Debs Riccio's blog, mentioned The Adventurer's Club (http://www.tut.com/theclub/) and I had to check it out. If you're a big fan of The Secret, this site is worth checking out.
Lastly, yet another writer friend, Avis, casually mentioned to me about the Fast First Draft group on the Write Words website. It's similar to NaNoWriMo. For those of you unfamiliar with NaNoWriMo it's short for National Novel Writing Month which takes place every November and you attempt to write a book (about 50,000 words) by the end of the month, without editing it as you go along. I managed 37k with everything going on. But I did complete it in 2008. Anyways, apparently they've started a similar group on WW which I must check out if I'm going to keep my resolution of writing 500 words a day.
I don't believe in coincidence, to me there is no such thing. A coincidence is merely a sign from the Universe. On Saturday, the universe sent me a lot of information that I needed, but wasn't necessarily looking for.
Already, 2010 feels so much better.
Whether she liked it or not, books always appeared when she needed them.
Sarah Allen
Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary describes serendipity as "the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for."
First off, my writer friend, Keris, mentioned in her blog that last year she focused on 'abundance' with some good results. That reminded me that I already knew this, but I needed to start applying it to my own life if I'm ever to escape this financial inertia.
Secondly, another writer friend, Jacqui, in a comment to Debs Riccio's blog, mentioned The Adventurer's Club (http://www.tut.com/theclub/) and I had to check it out. If you're a big fan of The Secret, this site is worth checking out.
Lastly, yet another writer friend, Avis, casually mentioned to me about the Fast First Draft group on the Write Words website. It's similar to NaNoWriMo. For those of you unfamiliar with NaNoWriMo it's short for National Novel Writing Month which takes place every November and you attempt to write a book (about 50,000 words) by the end of the month, without editing it as you go along. I managed 37k with everything going on. But I did complete it in 2008. Anyways, apparently they've started a similar group on WW which I must check out if I'm going to keep my resolution of writing 500 words a day.
I don't believe in coincidence, to me there is no such thing. A coincidence is merely a sign from the Universe. On Saturday, the universe sent me a lot of information that I needed, but wasn't necessarily looking for.
Already, 2010 feels so much better.
Whether she liked it or not, books always appeared when she needed them.
Sarah Allen
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