A special kind of mourning, or a special kind of sickness?

Sometimes (okay, all times) when I’m sick I feel like I will never get better. It’s cliché to say that men are babies when they’re sick, but I’m probably worse than any man. While I don’t make anyone take care of me or fetch me things or anything like that – I will moan, groan, shiver, and cry. I cry a LOT when I’m sick. If I had to offer any kind of explanation for that, it would be to say that I feel like my body is betraying me. Doesn’t my body understand that I had a tennis date?! Plans for happy hour?! A date night with my husband?! HOW DARE MY BODY DO THIS TO ME!

So I lie in bed or heaped under blankets on the couch and I watch a lot of HGTV and cry.

I was sick last week, and while I chose to watch Orange Is the New Black over HGTV this time, the crying routine was much the same. I cried myself to sleep Tuesday and Wednesday. I cried over my lunch on Thursday because I couldn’t taste anything (sinus congestion). Then Friday…

Well, I started feeling a little better Friday. I could taste again (bonus), my fever had broken, I returned to work. I ordered a delicious pizza to enjoy with my husband. I snuggled in to finish the last 2 episodes of OITNB Season 2. I got halfway through the final episode. I checked Facebook (which I often do while watching television and really should stop doing because I often end up having to rewind whatever I’m watching several times to catch things I’ve missed due to focusing too much on Facebook), and all of a sudden came to this realization that I was so incredibly lonely. My husband is sitting less than 10 feet away from me, mind you. But I am utterly and heartbreakingly lonely. And no one understands me or “gets” me and I don’t fit in anywhere and I don’t have any “real” friends and even my family drives me crazy and my husband is either perfect or I hate him depending on the moment and oh-my-god I have these two kids that depend on me to keep them safe and happy and I don’t even know how to do that for myself and oh-my-god I could have been something, I could have done something with my life and instead I have a job I hate and I never play music anymore and I’ve lost all my creativity and gotten fat and spend too much time on social media and our government is terrible and the planet is dying and everybody is rude and hateful and it’s all just… so… hopeless. And, what’s the point? What’s the point of it all? There’s no point to all of this!

And so I cried some more. And Mike was like, “Dude, what’s wrong?! Why are you so sad?!” and I went into this whole diatribe about always being the odd-one-out and how I realize more and more that I don’t really relate to anyone very well and I’m not sure if that’s a me problem or a who I choose to spend my time with problem. And it was all SO! UPSETTING! I must have cried for 4 hours. And at some point we picked a fight with each other (God knows why?!)… and when I woke up Saturday morning my eyes were nearly swollen shut from all the crying. And I slept so hard. And I've wanted to do pretty much nothing other than sleep since. Unless it's after 9pm. Then I want to stay up all night doing.. nothing. Watching HGTV. (It all comes full circle...)

I think it would be safe to say that I'm pretty deeply depressed right now. And while I'm trying to talk logic to myself, to remember that this isn't going to last forever and if I take care of myself physically and mentally then I can be to a more "normal" place again soon - and, more importantly, keep up with those habits to avoid falling into a depression again.

But, let's face it, that's a pretty tough thing to feel is possible when you're in the Deep Dark Depression Place. Last night I, again, spent some time crying to myself. I don't want to feel this way anymore, but I am helpless to stop. I don't know how and I don't have the tools. More and more I want to run away. I keep missing everyone in Little Rock and keep feeling like I just want to go back. I keep wondering if I just want to move there. I don't know if this is my own special kind of mourning response, an escapist attitude, or a legitimate need for change in my life and environment. I wonder constantly if this is just a "grass is greener" mentality. I feel like I have very little judgement on what's real and normal right now. I'm feeling incredibly lost. I think this might be the worst I've been since I started struggling with depression again in early 2013. I feel like in the past I've been very conscious and aware of my feelings and attitudes and what I needed to change and/or do to adjust them and help myself - but this is something completely different and suffocating. I want to sleep all the time, I don't really want to eat - nothing really sounds appetizing with the exception of a cookie, nothing sounds fun or exciting, I would go out with my friends but I can't really be bothered, I want to be drunk but I can't be bothered to consume enough alcohol to get me there (or I feel like that's just a terrible idea at all - something is obviously still working correctly in my brain to know that), I want to binge-watch tv or movies but as soon as I put something on I lose interest or become distracted by compulsively checking Facebook and/or Tumblr. Oddly enough I've been pretty focused on work and been productive in the office, but that's about the only fully-functional piece of my life at this moment.

I feel really detached from everything right now. I'm continuing to get out of bed every day and go to work like I'm supposed to, to buy the groceries and cook the dinner and do the laundry, to make plans and see friends and do activities, to spend time with my kids and my husband... but it's like I'm moving through jell-o or a thick fog as I do everything. And nothing is really enjoyable. It's just something that's happening to me. I'm not actually participating in my own life right now. I'm perfectly content to either be sleeping or just sitting and staring off into the distance for extended periods of time.

I will say I managed to go for a walk/run last night... and I'm not entirely sure how I motivated to get it done, but I just realized at one point I was feeling a lot of anger boiling up and decided I should just walk it out. The intention was just to walk, but I ended up running part of the way, too... had my heart not felt like it was going to explode I feel like I could have run forever. I've felt a little like that today; I just need to take a long walk or something before I explode and then go catatonic.

I have my weekly tennis date with my dad tonight, so I'll be doing that. I'm looking forward to it... well, as much as I really look forward to anything lately. But I don't feel negatively about it, so that's a plus?

Those of you that have been following my #365dayofchange have probably noticed I've been letting that slide majorly over the last few weeks. I've been regularly having to post 2, 3, and 4 days at a time. It hasn't been a priority for me at all and while some of that is probably the Deep Dark Depression Place talking, I think it's also partially a side-effect of not knowing when to let something go. The #100daysofchange challenge was fun and enlightening. I had a lot of followers and a lot of support. Maybe I should have moved forward with doing 100 days of something else, but instead I decided to pursue the same project for a full year... and while I made so many positive changes to my life and lifestyle during that first 100 days, I feel like the last 54 have been mostly a regression and stagnant at best. I'm not really changing in a positive way right now. I've barely been exercising. I'm only eating "better" because I don't really give a shit about food right now and it's just as easy for my to put salad in my face as it is to put french fries in it. And, so, if nothing is really tasty or appetizing, might as well consume something with nutrients, right? At least I can feel like I'm doing something for myself.

Maybe last night's walk/run was a sign that I'll jump back on the exercise bandwagon and by next week be miraculously in a better mental space. I sure as hell hope so. But then that brings up another problem for me, which is: is it normal to want to jump off a bridge after avoiding exercise for a week?

I'm pretty sure the answer to that is NO.

Also, I'm pretty sure I could not possibly be bothered to make the effort to actually jump off a bridge right now, so don't worry about me actually doing so. I mean, that would mean like deciding which bridge is high enough to actually be worth jumping off of, driving there, and then getting over my fear of heights long enough to actually jump. (I'm trying to have a sense of humor about this, but it's just coming off as kind of sick and twisted. Sorry for that!) Realistically I'd much rather just lie in my living room and stare at the ceiling indefinitely, which presents its own set of worries/problems.

Hey, but I'm not doing that, right? No. No, I'm not. I'm getting out of bed reasonably on-time and attending my job and feeding my family and behaving like a somewhat functional human being. And that's gotta be a positive somehow.

Saying goodbye to an important man...

Dear Readers,

I know you probably got really excited about my regular updates on somewhat interesting topics and personal struggles/experiences.

I’m sorry to have disappeared these last 8 days.

I just returned last night from an emergency trip down to Arkansas. My maternal grandfather unexpectedly passed away on July 17^th after suffering a major stroke. This came as a pretty big shock to my family as he had just beaten lung cancer a couple months ago and we were all hopeful that he would continue to regain weight and strength and be with us for a few years longer.

I left before dawn Saturday morning to be with my mom and her family and attend the funeral services – which were beautiful. My dad gave a wonderful eulogy that part of me wishes I had somehow recorded, even though that probably would have been inappropriate. My cousin, Jill, and I spent some great time together and bonded in a way we haven’t done since we were children. We even went running together a couple times and took a long walk one night - all of which proved very therapeutic for me.

While it’s a very sad time, everyone remained positive and upbeat and talked of happy memories and told funny stories – there were lots of tears, but more laughter, which I think speaks volumes about my Pa-paw and the life he lived and the memories we made with him. It was hard to leave yesterday and come home, even though I missed Mike and the kids a bunch. 

I left my copy of the obituary in my guitar case (Jill and I sang at the funeral service), which is currently still at my granny’s, but I intend to share that once it comes home with my dad and sister on Saturday. Granny did a wonderful job putting it together. I’ll also find a photo to post.

I wish I could put together a bunch of wonderful stories to share with you all, but I’m just not ready to do that. I’m struggling a bit with how to feel/how I do feel/how I should feel. I think in a lot of ways it’s just not real to me yet. While this isn’t the first family member I’ve lost, it is the first family member I’ve lost whom I was incredibly close to. My mom’s parents were like an extension of my parents – they were more than grandparents for me. And I think I’m just a little bit in shock right now and I’m afraid it may be coming across a little bit to my friends and family like I just don’t care or am in denial or something. I’m not. I’m just… in feelings limbo right now. Sometimes I’m really sad, sometimes I’m really numb, sometimes I just don’t want to talk about it, sometimes I feel at peace with it – as if something is telling me “it’s okay, it was time, and it’s okay”. I’m sure at some point in the near future it will all get very real for me and I’ll have a bit of a breakdown. Then again, maybe not. Maybe I’ll just be okay and have my own quiet mourning period.

For now, things will likely be “business as usual” on this blog and my other social media outlets, as well as in real life. This doesn’t mean I don’t care and it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m okay or unaffected. It just means I don’t know how to feel so I’m just going to do the things I normally do and see how it goes.

Thanks for reading,

Jess

Conflicting Feelings

This past weekend I flew down to Little Rock to celebrate my other grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary and spend time with friends and family. I had a great time!

So, while the weekend was lots of fun, I am feeling weird about indulging my vices unashamedly the entire trip. I feel a little guilty now, after-the-fact, for the copious amount of beer consumed, the ridiculously late nights out with my cousins and friends, the amount of sugar/refined carbs eaten, and the few cigarettes that were smoked.

Maybe I'm being a bit dramatic. Maybe these feelings are all just the side-effect of too much alcohol and too little sleep, which we all know puts me in a speedy depression cycle. But, really, the bottom line is: there are a lot of things about myself physically, mentally, and emotionally that I still want to change. That still need to change. And I'm starting to wonder how much longer it's going to take me to get there. Time is flying by faster than ever and I feel like I'll quickly run out of "quick fixes" as I age. 30 is still young, but I'm not going to fool myself and act like I have "all the time in the world" to create good habits in place of bad ones or that my metabolism will just magically function the same way for the rest of my life allowing me to "decide" at any time to go ahead and lose the weight, shed the fat, build the muscle, etc.

I've been thinking a lot on changing my diet the last couple weeks. I feel like I eat fairly well most of the time, and there's not really a whole lot wrong with eating/drinking junk while on a vacation or a trip, but I think sometimes I lie to myself about how well I really eat overall... and I'm now having a bit of an epiphany about my expectations for weight/fat loss while I continue to make iffy diet choices on the regular. I'm sure some of you are sitting there thinking, "Well, DUH, Jess." And, honestly, this is something I've known in the back of head for a very long time now - but sometimes it just takes a while to admit something to yourself. Nobody likes to be wrong. But there were some realizations made when it came to food/beverage choices, and one of them was a little terrifying as I realized how wonky I felt after eating a carb-heavy dinner followed by a large amount of dessert on top having been sipping on lemonade all day. Part of me wonders if I might be pre-diabetic. I'm supposed to go back to my doc this summer to have my triglycerides rechecked, and I think I probably need to go ahead and request a glucose test, too. While I think some of this wonky feeling was just in response to heat and exhaustion (the a/c was broken in the room where the anniversary celebration was held, it was 100 degrees outside, plus I'd played nearly 2 hours of tennis, followed by a run, followed by lying in the sun poolside for a few hours before heading to the dinner celebrations), it certainly can't hurt to be proactive on this front.

In regards to this diet stuff, part of me is still really drawn to the idea of Paleo/Primal, but I also know that it's too restrictive for me to maintain and that could very well end up in a breakdown/quit-everything cycle and derail a lot of progress. I don't want to yo-yo. I want something sustainable. The obvious choice would be to just, y'know, eat sensibly. Eat mostly leafy greens, vegetables, and lean proteins. As I've discussed at intervals for the last almost 2 years, I need to learn how to commit. To make and keep the promise to myself. I'm just not very good at it. I was so excited for #100daysofchange to completely change my life. I mean, that was over 3 months of doing something for my health everyday. And, yet, here I am only a month out (I can't believe it's only been a month - it feels like much longer), and I've completely started slacking off on my "commitment" to doing #365daysofchange. I feel like I've quit holding myself accountable and am almost ready to give in and stop doing it altogether! Except that I know that certainly won't get me where I want to be.

I guess I just still haven't found something that really resonates with me. Aside from diet, exercise has dropped waaay down on my priority list. Spending time with Mike and the kids and sleep have become top priorities, and sometimes I feel like I can't do a workout and get adequate time with my family AND get a good night's sleep all at the same time. This isn't true, but it feels that way right now. I've wanted to try to get my workouts done in the mornings for a few years now, but that's kind of gone down much like I wanted to quit smoking for like 5 years and was only able to actually make myself do so 4 months ago. i.e.: it's not happening for me at this time. So maybe in 5 years, when my kids are older and require less time/energy, I'll actually be able to be that person that does the 6am workout every day without it making me hate life.

...or maybe it'll just get a little easier to get in the evening workout. Whichever.

Really what it all boils down to right now is that I'm being really down on myself and instead of using that frustration to push myself to do something, anything to get back on track with diet/exercise, I'm instead just wallowing in self-pity and talking down to myself in my head all day long. I'm that chick that talks a big talk but can't walk the big walk. I think a lot of my frustration is coming from the lack of result... except that there hasn't been a total lack of result, as evidenced here and here. But even reading back over those (the last from only about a week ago!!), I'm still sitting here thinking, "Who cares? I'm still a fat fatty who can't remain consistent with anything and therefore won't ever accomplish any kind of real goals."

And that's really the rub; I use my physical fitness progress and ability to commit (or not) to these health goals as a barometer for every part of my life and myself. I gauge every aspect of my life by whether or not I'm succeeding at this. I'm not entirely happy or successful at anything else in my life and so I focus a lot of time and energy on "health", and when I feel like I'm failing at that it just serves as a reminder of how I'm failing or have failed at everything else I was going to be or do by this point in my life. 17 year old me would be pretty shocked at how life turned out. But, then again, 17 year old me didn't really know what direction she wanted to go in either -- she just had faith is would all turn out amazing somehow. She thought, I'm smart, I'm talented, I'm pretty; I can do whatever I want in life. Except she/I didn't... So now, instead, I focus on controlling my body - except I'm not very good at controlling it, and it just reinforces all those feelings of inadequacy I've had since 19, when I realized how much I was fucking up my life and felt powerless to change anything.

Clearly I have a lot more going on in my head right now than I realized when I first sat down to draft this update...

So I'm floundering. That's the basic gist. Yesterday I ate well, today has started out pretty well. I had no physical or emotional energy for any type of exercise last night. And I can't make any promises for tonight, either. It's a beautiful day and I will be taking a walk at lunch. Baby steps, I guess.

I'm sure in another couple weeks or month or two I'll be posting about how much I just looove my body and my good habits and how awesome I'm doing -- and then in another month or two it'll be right back around to this slump and self-pity. Maybe it's time to admit there some sort of cycle to it all and there may be a bigger problem. I guess we'll just have to see, eh?

Perspective!

Pictures are amazing. I regret all the time never pursuing the photography classes I could have taken during my brief stint in community college... I love photos. And I love how much of a tool they've become during this whole health and fitness thing I've been doing.

For the last several days I've been "feeling" fat. I've had to consciously tell myself over and over "Fat is not a feeling, it's a part of your body, a necessary part of your body that allows your brain and reproductive organs to function - among other things."

I'm still having a hard time believing myself. I spoke the other day about recently becoming fixated on the aesthetic value of diet/exercise vs the health benefits - and I've been seriously down on my body because of it.

But, then today, as I was perusing through some photos on Facebook to participate in that internet pastime of "Throwback Thursday", I came across this photo:

(In case you're wondering, I had just smashed a spider than no one else in the room (including the 8 men) was willing to kill -- hence the face of "ick" and the holding of a shoe.)

This is not a flattering photo. In fact, "not flattering" is probably an understatement. But it is an accurate photo of what I looked like. This was April of 2010. This is right around the time I started to realize my body didn't look the way it used to and that I wasn't treating it very well. I honestly feel like I look pregnant in this photo. And, coincidentally, I was 10 lbs heavier than I had been on my first child's due date when this photo was taken.

But this photo helped me realize something: I've come a loooong way. Here is an equally unflattering photo from this morning:

(No, that's not my bellybutton poking out - just the waist of my jeans being obnoxious.)

As you can see, I still (when I'm not standing up straight) look a little pregnant - BUT this is a massive improvement. I mean, I think so anyway... I guess you guys don't have to think so. ;)

What's even more amazing is that the scale-weight different between these photos is only 20 pounds. I feel like it looks like a lot more than that, but maybe I'm just bias.

On a positive note, I will say: My hair looks fricken fabulous in that older photo. Shiny and brilliant!

I still have some I want to do and possibly need to do for health reasons, but overall sometimes I need to take the time and step back and realize my body aesthetic is just fine. It's pretty close to where I want it. And, hopefully, another 4 years from now I can look back and say, "Look how far I've come!" again.

100 things inside my brain

I’ve had so many topics bouncing around inside my head the last several days. I don’t even know where to start, so I’m just going to write and see what happens…

A couple weeks ago I wrote about my confidence and security in my body, my lifestyle, etc. It’s amazing how quickly/easily things can change! The end of last week saw me suffering through some serious self-esteem/body-image issues. I sat down to write about it about 6 different times and could never get it finished and posted. Some of it no longer applies, but I’m going to pull some pieces out of those almost-updates and stick them in here to try to come up with some kind of a coherent explanation of what’s going on inside my head this last week or so.

First things first: I’ve lost just about all my motivation for exercise/workouts. It’s not just one thing or the other, it’s everything. Lifting doesn’t sound appealing, circuits don’t sound appealing. Running? Nope. Just a little walk? Maybe. But only if it happens in the middle of the day and prevents me from having to do work, y’know, at work. Tennis has still sounded fun and been fun – that’s the one thing I’ve done for purposeful exercise in the last 10 days. But my dad is my usual tennis partner, and I can’t expect him to be available to me every single night. (Or can I? Heh.)

At first I was thinking maybe I just was a little burnt out. Maybe it would do me some good to get a rest week in, focus on getting things ready for our 4^th of July BBQ we hosted for a few friends, take some time to relax with Mike, do some reading, some writing, etc.

That was all well and good for the first few days. By last Wednesday, though, it became clear that I was stuck in a pretty serious case of the I Don’t Wanna’s. I began drafting a blog update, saying how all was not lost, that I could just make myself get the workout in that night, put the damn candy down, resolve to make better food choices and carry on my merry way.

…but then Mike was having a bad day. Work was putting a lot of pressure and stress on him and he was feeling bad about how he handled some things with the kids recently. I didn’t want to add to that pressure by asking him to take on full responsibility for dinner and both kids bath/bedtimes so that I could get my 45 minute workout in before showering and leaving for trivia… so I didn’t. I skipped the workout, telling myself that I could get back on track Thursday evening – which would be better anyway seeing as we would be hosting people Friday night and there would be no workout time anyway. I did tennis Tuesday, so then regular workout Thursday and again Saturday and BOOM! Back on track! Back on program! Back in the game!

Do I really need to tell you that none of that happened? Sigh.

I will give myself some props for getting to bed at incredibly decent hours all weekend, which is phenomenal considering this was a holiday weekend. I even stayed home all weekend. I laid off the booze. I spent a lot of time with my kids and my husband. These were all good things, all positive things. I will say I walked to and from our local farmer’s market Friday, and to and from the little playground near our house Sunday. Not to mention all the cleaning I did Friday and Saturday. I did things, I was active, I just wasn’t “working out”.

Sunday afternoon/evening I started feeling the familiar pangs of depression creeping back in on me. I acknowledged it, mentioned it to Mike, and then went about the evening as normal. Monday morning I woke up feeling pretty decent. My mood seems a little more level today and I’m holding onto that and trying to keep it going. I’ve been pretty up for a couple weeks now, and I’d like things to stay that way. I’ve gotten into a good groove at work, and while I still think there are some changes I’d like to make in my professional life and career ambitions, right now things are feeling quite a bit less hopeless than they were back at the beginning of June. I worry sometimes I’m becoming complacent, but as long as I’m not entirely miserable maybe complacency isn’t so bad, right?

Now to start going all over the place with stuff, since I can’t really decide how to segue…

1) I’ve been on this candy kick for a couple weeks now. At first I was like, “Oh, well, my period. Because: female things. Hormones. Okay, cool.” But the thing about sugar is: it’s kind of addicting. I’ve been consciously trying to scale back on the sugar intake, but I think my recent obsession with fruit hasn’t helped much. Yes, it’s naturally occurring sugar mixed with healthy fiber and vitamins/minerals – but it’s still sugar and I’m still overloading myself with it, processed or not. I began thinking a lot about Primal Eating last week. I read The Primal Blueprint last summer and it all made sense to me. Now, I’m well aware of the recent evidence that’s come out against these gluten and grain-free diets. I’m all about everything-in-moderation because my #1 sabotage trigger is to start telling myself a certain type of food or activity is forbidden. But, with that being said, I also know it certainly couldn’t hurt me to choose leafy greens and vegetables over grain-based carbs more often. So over the weekend I started trying to do that. I bought lots of salad greens and veggies and have made myself big salads the last couple days using just plain old olive oil and white balsamic vinegar for dressing. When I wanted to snack Sunday night I went for the carrots and hummus vs the cheese and Townhouse crackers. Bit by bit I’m going to reign my food choices back in. I entertained the notion of starting to log calories again for a brief moment – I even put my breakfast in yesterday morning. But by the time I got through lunch, the idea of logging everything again brought on some serious anxiety. I don’t know why. Maybe a feeling of “failing” at intuitive eating. I think I still need to leave it alone for now. This wasn’t months of poor eating choices turning into habits… this was 2 weeks of eating more sweets than I probably needed. Not going back to counting just yet.

2) I’m becoming really fixated on aesthetic vs health and it’s driving me to a dark place. I get hung up on the way these fitness professionals/models and athletes look and I wish that were my body. But the thing is I know the strict discipline that goes into looking like that – the bland diet, the hours of training, etc – and I know that I’m not interested in making the sacrifices I would have to make to “get there”. Because the thing is, you can’t look like that 365 days a year every year for the rest of your life. Existing on sweet potatoes, broccoli, and chicken breasts gets old pretty quick. I love food, I love beer, and I love being really lazy sometimes. I also love the way I look and feel in my body most of the time. I’m not sure where this pressure on myself is coming from right now, but it’s making the idea of getting back “#onprogram” stress me the fuck out. I’ve also found myself shying away from my runs because I’ve somehow managed to convince myself that any cardio that isn’t specifically metabolic training is just “making me fat”. Don’t even ask where that came from. The “sweet spot” is supposed to be between 10-20 miles a week before you run the risk of your metabolism being affected negatively (depending on myriad of other factors as well!!) – and I’m not even hitting 5 miles most weeks (or ever). I think this is one of those situations where I’ve over-educated myself and now that education is attacking my psyche. I need to calm down and remind myself what it is I really love doing. If that’s a “program”, great. But the fact of the matter is, I’ve never been good at sticking to a program for longer than 4-6 weeks. #100daysofchange began with doing something a little different every day or every couple days to keep myself interested and active, and I lost that toward the end.  I think I forgot it until now. Maybe I just need to go back to that. Do some strength, do some cardio, do some HIIT/metabolic training, and do it a little differently every couple times to keep it fun and interesting.

3) Weight loss. I made the mistake of stepping on the scale about a week ago. I don’t know why. It was Sunday afternoon (afternoon = never a good time to weigh yourself anyway), I’d been drinking heavily most of the weekend, eating TONS of salty junk food, barely sleeping, and generally not taking very good care of myself. On top of being right in the middle of my period, so natural water retention even without all the other crap. The scale read 199.8. I flipped out a little bit. It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter. My clothes fit and look better than they did 6 months ago, my body composition continues to change and shift toward more muscle mass… 199 doesn’t mean anything. Except, in that moment, it meant EVERYTHING. I think this is where everything started; the avoiding exercise, the persistently in giving in to my sweets cravings, the general lack of enthusiasm for my health and fitness. After all, what’s the point if the scale isn’t moving?

It’s so stupid.

For me, seeing the scale move ceased being “the point” of this whole thing months and months and months ago. But I think a big part of me thought that by being active and eating healthier, by putting in the time and energy, it would continue to move down as the months passed. I haven’t been doing what I would have to do in order to push through the plateau. I’m not willing to at this point. That’s okay. But it’s not okay to think I’m a worthless person because I may teeter right around 200 pounds for the rest of my life. Being 20 pounds heavier than I’d like to be doesn’t define my worth as a human being. But I forget that all the time. It’s very sad, really. I should be kinder to myself.

So where do I go from here? I honestly don’t know.

Here’s what I do know:

• My mental health will suffer greatly if I stop regularly exercising - my day-to-day lifestyle just isn't active enough to drop purposeful exercise
• My mental health will suffer if I don’t continue to focus on a healthy diet
• Feeling sorry myself won’t make me leaner, in fact it will likely have the opposite effect

So, there we go. Good food and a good sweat have to be non-negotiable for me. 

Post-draft update:

I made myself go do some running intervals last night. It felt really good. I'm tired as hell today, but looking forward to tennis tonight and maybe some more running intervals tomorrow. 

Forgetting the point

I haven't done a workout since Thursday. I had every intention to do a quick 10-15 minute metabolic workout Friday evening, but time got away from me and I headed straight out for Mexican and margaritas instead. I ended up out until 2am. The next day I didn't feel anything close to a normal human being. I spent the entire afternoon at my baby sister's play (which was wonderful, but verrrry long... Pride & Prejudice tends to be that way, I suppose), then headed straight to the grocery story, and shortly thereafter out again to my good friend's 30th birthday party. I didn't come home until 2am. Again. Only Sunday I had to get up at 7am with the kids. Definitely didn't feel like a normal person that day. Not only that, but all day my stomach was all wonky and weird. I couldn't tell if I was nauseated or about to poop my pants. (Sorry for the TMI.) I felt a little better this morning after a good night's sleep, but when I came home from work my tummy got all wonky again. I think I may have pushed it with going straight for some spicy stir-fry for dinner vs sticking with something more bland and easy. Oops.

Needless to say, there was no workout happening tonight. For the last weeks or so I've felt a little more up emotionally, but a weekend of junk food, alcohol, and lack of sleep quickly had me nosediving back down into downsville. It was all I could do to make myself bathe this evening, let alone put in 45 minutes of strength training.

I had an attack of "Get Your Priorities Straight" this afternoon and began beating myself up over a) not getting any purposeful exercise in over the weekend, and b) completely throwing myself off my normal sleep schedule when I know how important that is for maintaining my mood. I wish I could say it was because I was just having SO MUCH FUN I couldn't POSSIBLY SLEEP!! But really it was just because I was a little drunk and not making very good decisions for myself.

...that is not to say I didn't enjoy spending time with my friends this weekend - I did. But it wasn't anything that required my being awake until the wee hours of the morning, and I couldn't have gone home to bed at midnight and still had equally as awesome of a time.

I also smoked two cigarettes this weekend. I was/am really disappointed in myself, but I also need to realize that this doesn't mean I can't move forward and continue not being a smoker. I can and I have. I didn't go buy a pack of cigarettes. In fact, it didn't even occur to me that I could do that until I just wrote that. But I don't want to be a smoker again. I'm pretty solid in that feeling and decision. It's okay. There will be hiccups, and I can allow myself this slip-up and move forward realizing that it didn't make me feel good physically or emotionally and remember that the next time I think it might be a good idea to light a cigarette.

I had a moment earlier this evening where I thought, "I may as well just give up this #365daysofchange thing -- clearly a year is too long and I can't keep it up. I had a good run with #100daysofchange and I should have just left it at that." But that's just silly. I had a weekend of poor choices. It happens. I forgot the point of the whole idea; the point is to learn how to be a happier, healthier human being within my normal everyday life. Normal everyday life includes poor choices sometimes! But those few days of poor decisions and choices does not define the last 119 days, nor does it have to define the next 246.

I guess I still haven't quite figured out this whole "grown-up" thing yet. I guess I do still have some priorities to get straight... and if I'm going to be really honest with myself (and you), this was all probably a bit of a subconscious response to my husband telling me last Wednesday morning that if our youngest was going to decide to get up at 5:30am everyday (which he had been doing for 5 days in a row since switching from a crib to a toddler bed), then it was probably time to start sacrificing some things to be able to go to bed early enough in order to wake up rested at 5:30am with him. I flat out pitched a bit of a fit and was like, "You realize that would mean I would have to go to bed at like 9:30pm EVERY NIGHT and give up EVERYTHING I ENJOY DOING?!"

This, of course, did not go over particularly well. We didn't fight about it, but only because I decided to just end the conversation. I was pissed and felt like it was all incredibly "unfair". So what did I do? Well, go out all night all weekend, of course! Because that's how mature adults handle things!

...so, yeah. I didn't even realized that until I was writing all of this out. That was pretty stupid, considering I've been perfectly happy and fine coming home around midnight at the latest whenever I've gone out recently. And you know what? Nolan decided he'd start sleeping until a normal time again yesterday. It was just a normal adjustment for him and it looks like we'll be okay moving forward. Looks like I don't have to learn how to be a super early morning person just yet and can spend some of that extra time in the evenings thinking about what I want my top priorities to be in order to feel happy and satisfied in life.

Tuning In... Finally

Yesterday, after writing that whole big hullabaloo about how I'm accepting my body and moving past my obsession with obsessing over food, I found myself thinking, "I've been eating way too many sweets for the last week. What the hell is this about? I've had to have something sweet everyday for like 6 days!" This immediately sent me into, "Maybe I need to start tracking again, maybe I can't just eat intuitively, maybe I'm going to gain back all that fat, maybe I need to restrict..."

And then I had a light bulb moment after noticing I had a random low back ache: I'm due to start my period at any moment. Of course I've been craving and subsequently eating sweets for the last several days. Hormones are a bitch, I tell you. And my skin is reacting accordingly by breaking out with a vengeance. This is what happens. It's normal.

Instead of beating myself up for not having greater willpower and avoiding the sweets at all costs, I just realized that some Oreo cookies and a few handfuls of peanut m&m's over the course of a week isn't going to undo everything I've been working on for 4 years. It's just not. Especially when the rest of my diet has been just fine. It's been an emotional week, as well, so I definitely don't need the added stress of a negative inner-monologue following me around everywhere. I'm finally tuning into my body in a way I haven't been able to due since high school.

...now, if only I could be better about making it gets the amount of sleep its constantly begging me for. Something to work on!

Update!!

I've had a really hard time focusing on just about anything lately, which is why I've sort of actively been avoiding trying to write an update for the blog. I'm a little all over the place, but a couple things have been on my mind lately - and organized or not, I'm going to try to write about them now.

1) Focusing on fun.

As many of you Regular Readers know, I've been struggling with depression for a little over a year now, and recently it's been creeping back into the "worse and worse" area from the "improving" side it hung out in for a few weeks back in March/April. Week before last, after going through 3 days of arguing and screaming with my husband about how I want to move forward with my career/lack of one, I sort of resigned myself to being miserable and slept a lot of the weekend away. But then last Monday my husband asked me a very important question: "Do you ever have fun anymore?"

I replied, "I like hanging you with you." Then he said, "Liking me isn't the same as having fun." Which is true. And I realized, no. I don't really have fun anymore. I'm too busy with work, being angry and depressed over work, trying to be Super Wife/Mom at home (and feeling like I'm forever failing), and generally being frustrated and irritated with everything/everyone to really focus on enjoying myself or having fun in anything I do. I realized I had only done 2 things recently that I really considered "fun" - one was going to play trivia with a group of friends (which has become a weekly gathering), and the other was baking a pie for my dad for Father's Day. "But I can't go to trivia EVERY night or bake a pie every day." Well, no. But I could do those things a couple times a week and have a little enjoyment...

So, the other day it was kind of hot and disgusting here in Virginia, so I set up the baby pool with Nolan when we got home from work/daycare in the evening. I was sitting outside with him, dipping my feet in the water, while reading a book - and he kept trying to dump water on my head. I started to get frustrated and angry, but instead decided to put the book down and play with him. It made him super happy and in-turn made me happy. It was fun. And I realized, I have to do these things. It's not going to fix everything - it may not fix anything - but at least if someone asks me if I ever have fun anymore, I can say, "Yes, sometimes." instead of having to honestly realize, "No, never." and wallow in how depressing that is.

The #356daysofchange campaign/challenge/whatever-you-want-to-call-it was supposed to be about mental wellness as well as physical wellness, and focusing on fun is a step in the right direction. I continued the trend by going out Friday night for the margaritas and Mexican food I've been craving for weeks, seeing my good friend's band play Saturday, and attending a last-minute pool party Sunday afternoon. I am now a bit exhausted and looking forward to a few nights in this week, but I felt like I was able to really enjoy my weekend for the first time in a long while.

2) It takes a long time to get fit/reach the body aesthetic/weight you want.

Not for everybody, but for lots of bodies. It's easy to get sucked in to the "success story". The person who lost 100 lbs (or more) in a year (or less), the person who switched to a Paleo-style diet and cured their Type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure within a matter of months, the person who shed 10% of their body fat in 6 months. These are major successes, but rare is it to read the success story of the person who reached their goal (whatever that may be; weight, body fat percentage, clothing size, cholesterol level, etc.) over the course of 4 or 5 (or 6 or 10) years. I sometimes feel as if people don't consider those to be real successes; that if you can't do it within a year, it really isn't worth celebrating or acknowledging.

In September, it'll have been 4 years since I started really working on losing weight and getting healthy. There was a pregnancy in the middle there, but losing weight and getting healthy was still on mind throughout the entire process. I couldn't tell you what I weigh today, but I betcha it's about 192 lbs. I've weighed right around that for 18 months. Sometimes I feel like this is a failure. But when I look at my body, the way my clothes fit, how I feel in the middle of a run or a workout - I'm a success. My body is completely different at THIS 192 lbs than at 2013's 192 lbs... and even more so than JANUARY'S 192. I gained a lot of fat over the winter...

But that's part of my point: it's not always a direct line from A to B. Many more people struggle over the course of several years to reach their goal. It takes time to find a good nutritional balance, the type of exercise you enjoy/respond best to, to make things like diet and exercise a constant top priority - but also to find a balance between that and letting loose and having fun sometimes without obsessing over calories or "is this the healthiest choice" or feeling like "I'm going to have to run this off later".

I still have fat on my body that I don't want or feel is unattractive. But overall I'm beginning to feel really comfortable in this body and to really like the way it looks. I'm also starting to focus more on buying/wearing clothing that is flattering on my body now instead of what my body might look like in 2 years. That's helped a lot in the self-esteem department.

3) I'm finally free from food.

Okay, that's maybe a weird way to put it... but I am finally free of calorie counting. A lot of this has come along with my body acceptance, as well as my realization that I just can't "heathily" track calories. Meaning, no matter what I've said in the past, I just get too wrapped up and obsessed over calories and macros and end up just feeling horrible about myself most of the time instead of feeling like I'm accomplishing something worthwhile. Because I was so obsessed for so long, I now know what types of foods I need to eat in order to regularly meet my nutritional needs without tracking everything. I have no idea how many calories I usually eat. Some days I'm sure it's close to 3500, some days probably 1900. I don't care. I'm continuing to build muscle and lose fat and my clothes fit and look better every day.

I'm learning to enjoy my food and eat more mindfully. I've fallen in love with salmon lately and have been eating tons of that and other fish. Same with vegetables. Especially grilled! All the salmon and grilled vegetables all the time!! I can't wait to buy a new grill this weekend so I can start grilling things outside vs on my George Foreman.

I can't tell you how good it feels to be able to eat the ice cream if I want it, or drink the beer, or go out to eat without feeling like I need to exercise to compensate for the calories. And on top of this, I've noticed I don't feel the desire to eat junk nearly as often. Nothing is off-limits, and therefore I don't ever feel deprived. If I'm hungry, I eat. Without guilt. It's amazing.

100th Day and Beyond!

I don’t think I realized how much my #100daysofchange challenge would affect my life when I first decided to do it. In fact, I was sure I’d get 2 or 3 weeks in and just stop. Thankfully, and surprisingly, I stuck with it. Incorporating Instagram and the daily photo inspired me and kept me accountable in ways I didn’t expect – and so much of that is thanks to all of you who began following my progress.

I still have a long way to go, but I’m pretty proud of where I am right now in my fitness goals and body image.

So, what now? Well, that’s an excellent question. I want to keep going, there’s no question about that. Clearly this whole “post photographic proof” thing is benefitting me in keeping with my goals. My ultimate goal for this project was to do something active every day. While I had rest days and/or travel days here and there, I was probably 90% on-target for physical activity. That ain’t bad. But this project was simply that: physical activity. I made mention a couple times of “oh, and I’m going to try to do some things here and there for my mental health also!” but I didn’t really, with the exception of taking rest days when I knew I could really benefit from them both physically and emotionally.

The truth is, even after 100 days of making exercise a habit, eating decently, not obsessing over calories, and breaking my unhealthy bond with the scale – I’m still dealing with some pretty serious depression, stress, and anxiety. I think part of me (a bigger part than I realized) thought as long as I was treating my body well with exercise, good food, and plenty of sleep, I would be “better”. That changing my lifestyle would have this almost magical effect on my mental health. This is not to say that maintaining physical health doesn’t help – it helps. It helps immensely! Especially making sure I run at least once or twice a week. But despite my runs and my lifting and my food choices and my sleep habits, lately my anxiety has just been getting worse. I’ve had 3 panic attacks in the last 8 or 9 days, one of which lasted nearly 3 hours and almost sent me home from work. I feel like I keep repeating the same thing to myself every few weeks, “Something’s got to give/change”. Aside from selling all my worldly belongings and leaving all my friends and family to go start a new life someplace not here, there’s only one thing I can think of that I can do to really change my life: leave my job.

I think I sometimes forget how long it’s been since this unhappiness started. It’s been 2 years. And it’s been 10 months since I said I was going to change my life and get out of my current job situation. I’m clearly a liar as I haven’t done ANYTHING up to this point. And while things got a little bit better for a little while (a very little while), overall things aren’t changing and overall I’m not sure that any amount of change in my current environment would make things better. Now I’m faced with additional responsibility on top of what had already pushed me to a mental breakdown last September and a borderline suicidal place by the end of December. On top of that, I’m beginning to feel solely responsible for everyone else’s stress and happiness – which so far continues to manifest in my continuing to hate my life (and myself) in order to make everyone else happy and/or content. In reality, I think I’ve probably always felt that way, but I’m just now becoming aware of how much I feel it.

In light of these things, I want to really challenge myself to change many different things about my life and lifestyle, and I'm going to give myself another 265 days to do so. I was playing around with a bunch of different tags, but I think it might be best to just stick with #365daysofchange. Simple and to the point. I'll continue my near-daily physical activity and overall physical health stuff, but also set some goals for whole-life changes - new job, maybe go back to school - basically find something I love, or at the very least enjoy, and pursue that as a career. I have 9 months. If I can grow a fully formed human being inside my body in 9 months, surely I can decide what I want to be when I grow up and begin working toward it in 9 months. But my main goal is to reach that 365th day feeling better about my life as a whole. 

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...sort of?

I’m not really sure how to start this one off, so I’m just going to kind of brain-vomit here for a minute:

It seems that the more depressed I get over certain aspects of my life, the more positive I get about my body image. I don’t know how to explain it really, but I’m struggling so much with making some major life choices and am adhering more and more the mantra of “life is too short to be miserable” – and while this isn’t magically dissolving my depression since I haven’t actually made any decisions yet, it has made me realize that being overly fixated on my body image and being unhappy about how I look is ridiculous. The fact of the matter is, I like my body just fine. It’s a pretty good looking body. It’s a pretty well-functioning body, too. 6 months ago, when I went for my first physical/check-up since I was a teenager, I was a healthy person. And in the last 6 months I’ve made several BIG changes that are only adding to my health: quitting smoking, eating out less often, drinking alcohol less often, getting 7-8 hours of sleep regularly, and being more active and/or exercising on a daily basis.

This isn’t to say that there aren’t still things I want to change about the way I look – there are. But I’m learning how to let go of those aesthetic (and scale weight) changes as my main focus and putting more emphasis on how things make me feel and how they affect my physical (and mental) health. Am I going for a run because I feel like I have to in order to eat that pizza/drink that beer/have that ice cream, or am I going for a run because it makes me feel good/clears my mind/boosts my mood? Am I doing strength training to get “awesome abs”/”toned arms”/”dancers legs”, or am I doing it because it makes it easier to lift my toddler/boosts my metabolism/makes me sleep better?

More and more I’m doing my chosen type of exercise for the health benefits, not the what-my-body-looks-like benefits. And the fact is, my body composition will change as I continue to do these things and one day I may wake up and realize that doing things for my health has also improved my body aesthetic – but that is quickly becoming just an added bonus and not the main purpose of all this time and energy I put into fitness.

…as far as counting calories goes, I’ve all but given it up. I will still log my food – sometimes daily, sometimes just a couple days a week - but I don’t really stress over the calorie count anymore. I’ve raised my “limit” to TDEE, and I’m making sure my protein and carbs are where I want them to be. Probably the biggest change for me and my relationship with food is now when I eat “junk” or sweets I make sure to ask myself after the first bite if I really want it. If that first bite isn’t as delicious as I want it to be, more and more I’ll choose not to eat any more of it. I’m maintaining my weight while my body composition continues to change, and that’s okay. I’m happy here. And thank goodness! It’s hard enough dealing with all this depression, stress, and anxiety without the added pressure of hating my body all day every day. I was in that place over the winter and it was pretty terrible and crushing. I’m working really hard to maintain this body positivity while wading through the rest, and it feels so wonderful to give myself a break from the abuse and negativity.

Now for something completely different:

#100daysofchange will soon be coming to an end, and I’m kind of freaking out about it. It’s been such an amazing tool for me and an excellent way to hold myself accountable. Thank you to everyone who has been following (and participating) in this little project! I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I’ve decided I want to extend this challenge for myself. I want to make this a year-long project. I’m still coming up with a tag for it, but it may be as simple as #365daysofchange or something similar. I’ll be sure to make the announcement once I’ve made up my mind.

Slipping

I made a very big mistake last week. I allowed myself to give in to my post-vacation blues (ha! "post-vacation") and after one workout I decided I would give myself a "break" and settle back into normal home/work routine. I kept up with my walks on my lunch breaks, but other than that I booked my social calendar, drank far too heavily and too often, ate whatever I wanted and as much as I wanted, and ended up burned out and emotionally wrecked by Saturday afternoon. My depression and frustration lead me to randomly go for a 3 mile run, which was great. It felt good, it was one of best pace times, it pushed me out of my funk. I "celebrated" by drinking more. Sunday was a BBQ for a friend's birthday - and I knew I shouldn't drink heavily, but I did anyway. I had a great time, but I paid for it today. I woke up on my own at 8am, but forced myself back to sleep until 10am. That was probably a bad idea - too much sleep seems to affect me in much the same way too little sleep does. I was lethargic and grouchy most of the morning/afternoon. A LOT of emotional eating happened today. A LOT. While it was no 4,000 calorie day like yesterday (although, yesterday I was legit hungry)... I've eaten a lot of sugar and carbs today. Very little fat and protein. This is a problem and did nothing in assisting with my energy level.

Needless to say, there was no getting back "#onpogram" today. I am wallowing here a little bit. I am hopeful tomorrow I can motivate and get back on track. I realized today that I'm quickly reaching the end-point of my #100daysofchange and I feel like I'm either sabotaging or it's all just kind of falling apart. If I can just get back into an exercise routine I know it will help me in 100 different ways, but I'm struggling with some pretty major feelings of... I don't even know how to explain it. "Unhappiness" feels too simple and mild of a word, but I guess that's it.

I want to change my whole life, but feel powerless to do so. I'm not comfortable laying it all out here on the blog right now, but I probably will at some point. I'm trying to figure out how I need to move forward in the immediate future because I find myself saying to myself repeatedly throughout the day nearly everyday, "I don't think I can do this anymore."

I think I know what changed... I think I know what triggered this, em, existential crisis? I am making a conscious effort everyday to say to myself, "These are blessings, you will be happy, you will have a great day, you're deciding to be positive." But that doesn't seem to be benefiting me much. It's supposed to be that simple, right? You just decide that what you have is good enough, that what you do everyday makes you happy, that you are grateful. ...maybe I'm just not very good at convincing myself any longer. I hate feeling this way.

So, all I can say is: I hope tomorrow is better. I hope I can motivate to workout or at least run. I hope I can avoid emotionally eating tons of sugar. I hope I can level out a bit.