No good news yet
I woke up this morning with that sick, desperate feeling again, that kind of revulsion from looking at what I am doing to myself. I got no exercise at all this weekend, just sat around watching television and eating. I am gaining back what I lost and am feeling the effects, internally and externally, feeling sick and bloated and uncomfortable. And I just don't know how to stop it.
It seems like madness. It seems so crazy to know, without a doubt, what would make me happy (or at least happier), healthier, what would give me some enthusiasm for the day and my life in general and yet continue to not do it. I can't explain it; I have never been able to figure this out. I seem like a sailboat with no wind at all and no motor, like I am just paralyzed, motionless, drifting. I KNOW I could just get up, just get right up, just get up and walk out that door and go for a walk or go to the gym or work in the garden, or cut up some vegetables and eat them instead of an all-day-long graze of nothing but starches. I know what would work but I don't do it. Day after day after day, I don't do it.
It is a blow to my pride to be so out of shape. Once upon a time, I was a certified fitness instructor (I can't even use ignorance as an excuse!). Once upon a time I found that I was usually among the fitter people in any gathering I found myself in; I didnt' worry about whether or not I would be able to keep up. I was confident that I could handle most anything that life would throw at me. Not anymore. I don't have any confidence in my ability to handle anything anymore. I look forward (about 5 years) to when I could consider retirement and even though I would really like to get away from work, I fear that I would turn into a recluse and eat myself into oblivion.
I find it devastating to look at past pictures of myself. I barely recognize that younger woman; she is like someone else, someone I vaguely remember. My husband is great, always supportive, always loving but I feel like such a disappointment, to him and to me. He never makes me feel that way but *I* make me feel that way. I sometimes wonder why he would want to stay with me.
I guess I am probably being too hard on myself but boy, it is so hard for me not to sink into the muck of self-loathing.
Okay, taking stock today: I can see that one of the worst things for me on the weekend is to not stick to regular mealtimes. I put off breakfast and that starts a whole cascade effect that ends up with no proper meals, just ongoing snacking on things that are not good for me.
I am racking my brain to see if I can think of someone who might be willing to meet me on Saturday mornings to go for a walk and then go to the gym after. I usually work out by myself but I am hoping that if I have someone else waiting for me, I will be more likely to go. Maybe I could even get a personal trainer for one of the weekend mornings; the money would certainly be worth it if it got me going again.
And of course, I have to take the time to weigh, measure and write down everything I am eating. I have proven to myself again and again that I always underestimate the amount that I am eating unless I see it in black and white. So I don't think there is any way for me to get around this.
I just don't want to go on feeling this way, so hopeless, so defeated. I guess I am taking baby steps and trying to get one day under my belt, just one whole day of doing well.
