Better Day

I have a lot of obstacles. I don't know how many of them are what my life has in front of me, or that stem from depression/anxiety.

But - I'm making a choice for a better day today.  Not saying that people can "will themselves" out of depression, or making light of it.  But I want things to change for me.

Especially in my pant-size department.

Yesterday I went for a walk.  Every morning I've been doing  a 3-minute jumpstart.  Walk, walk, walk.

Non-negotiable.


Why?

I don't have much of a desire for anything.

I really hate this cycle.  Probably most people would say that (whatever afflicts them - non-terminally) is "the worst" affliction.

I hate being fat.

Anyone who has been over 300 pounds and gets down to a more manageable weight will say that "their life changed dramatically."

I can't imagine living without arms.  I have arms.

I can't imagine being unable to walk.  I can walk.

I can do most everything.  But my fat truly does prohibit me from living a better life.

I wish it were easy.  I'm so frustrated at being where I am.  AGAIN.  At standing in front of my closet nearly in tears.  AGAIN.  Tight pants.  Shirts too short.  Not wanting to walk through, past, in.  Not really wanting to do much of anything, really.  I don't get it.  I really don't.

My relationship is so strained.  If it weren't for the kids, I think we'd be divorced.

I wish I knew what came first, or why this happens.  I KNOW how happy I am being smaller.  I've been there.  But the will for that was not strong enough to weather the storms of life for me.

WHY?

Anxiety, Crap, Things I Don't Want To Say

I had the strangest thing happen.

I played a card game that I used to play years ago to relax and get my mind off the chaos in my life.  As I played, I sipped a glass of wine and enjoyed the solitude.

Time went on and I finally won the game.  The "triumph music" played.
I started sobbing.

I didn't understand why.  But the music, the wine... it triggered something in me that hadn't been touched, but had been sitting underneath the surface.

The fears, dread, sadness, anger, devastation.  Waiting, waiting for my daughter to come home.  I'd play that card game, often with a glass of wine, at 11pm --her curfew-- knowing she'd miss it, knowing it.  But still dreading it.  I played it to keep my mind off things, to get me through.  To steady the racing thoughts. Over and over.  I remember doing it when I took Zoloft.  I don't even like typing it. It makes me choke on my own throat, makes my eyes itch.

I stuff my feelings, apparently.  Gosh I'm stoic! 

I keep going. I don't quit. I hang in. I press on.

As. I die. Inside. I shrivel and shrink and grasp, and pray, and crawl somewhere in there where even I don't know.  I harden, I forget, I put up boundaries. I don't let in, I blame.  I blame. I project. I obsess.

I do so many things that I hate and wish I didn't on a day-to-day, minute-to-minute basis.

But.

I get by.

I do.

I get by.

I work. I clean. I cook. I function.

And -by God- I'm dying in here!

It really sucks. I'm sure I'm not alone.

But I'm sure there's not a person I can (pay to) go talk to that will get it in a way that puts my soul right again.

This is (maybe) why people commit suicide.  This feeling of isolation, desperation, self-loathing.

I'm not going to kill myself. (Unless it's with food and self-uncare)

And I don't want to talk to friends because let's face it they don't care.  I almost don't care, which is why I hide in a happy face and make everyone's day and "am amazing" and all that wonderful crap.

It'll ride, slide, and be OK. But it's still there, waiting, dormant.  It is still there.

It's Been a While: 285

Today I weighed myself and it was 285.

I wasn't peeled down to my skivvies, my preferred way of weighing, but I wanted to make something "official" and put it over there, and call it a day.

I can't keep telling myself this is transitional and not official.

It's my official weight right now.

As I moved around my day yesterday I thought, I have to document how absolutely crappy I feel right now.

I hate looking in my closet for clothes
Everything feels like it shrunk (though I know it's ME that has grown)
I feel uncomfortable in my own skin - it's really not my clothes
I feel unhealthy... sluggish, slower

It's very strange.  Kind of surreal, to be here again.  I'm feeling a bit baffled and hopeless.

I haven't been eating that bad.  I'm certainly not eating with abandon.

Basically if I want to stay at a certain weight, or lose weight, I have to put a LOT of time and effort into it and deny myself a LOT.

Part of my downfall is that I haven't been able to do that.  I've been stressed, tired, and simply haven't been able to put my time and effort and energy into giving so much focus to my weight-management.  That's the bottom line of things.

Will I have more time now?

What can I do to make time?

My health is important to me.  

At any rate, yesterday I did OK - better.  These few days here I'm putting in odd hours, and things are not predictable.  My new job does not have a refrigerator that I can put my meals in, which is not a big deal when I'm working a part-time day, but when I'm working a full day like I've been lately - it doesn't really work out so well.  There is a cube-sized one there now.  I'm thinking of bringing a larger one simply so I can have that available to me.  We'll see.

I need to get past the next couple weeks without gaining any more weight.  Things will even out for me - although it will still be a challenge (I have to recognize this).  But they will settle into a routine.

I don't like how I feel, and I don't like food more than the feeling of fitting into my own clothes, and looking in a closet without wanting to rip my own skin off.  This is nothing new.  I've been in this spot with the same feelings.  But now I need to remember how this feels, and charge towards it again.

I'm excited to get there again.

283

I don't really want to talk about my weight.  I'm sick of it.  I'm sick of working on it, thinking about it, and dealing with it.

I wish I could wake up tomorrow and have gastric bypass surgery.

I have a few friends that have had it and they all look great.

They are all living life.

I am. Sort of.

I did get another job.  Very part-time.  I guess I should be happy.  I don't know what I want, which doesn't help.  This gives me the flexibility to figure that out while still providing a bit of cash to the flow, I suppose.

I'm semi-excited.  All in all it's probably the best.  I'm so blessed in that area, yet I seem to snub my nose at it.  I've been off for a bit and it's been nice.  It wasn't really enough time, though.  I was hoping to leave town, visit family, do some things I've been wanting to do for a while.  It's not going to happen though.  New job starts.  Even if it's part-time, it's a new job, and it's exhausting.  But I did get to a good point last year with my old job where I was able to find some time for me, get a routine, and pay more attention to taking care of myself.

Right now I'm just trying to hit 8000 steps on my tracker. That's about it.  My weight remains a dismal 283.  Last year this time I was 30 pounds lighter.  I just need to have the scale start winding back that way.  10 pounds I'd feel better. Ten stinking pounds.

It's amazing how hard that is!


Day By Day

I don't know what's happening to me.

I quit my job.  It was hard and liberating at the same time.  It will put financial burdens on us.  Period.  I couldn't hold out any longer.  Every day I woke miserable and every night I dreaded the next day.  Maybe a lot of people feel like that?

It's not one of those things where I'm "lucky I can quit my job."  It's going to suck.  It already does.  Life is uncertain, I will have to throw myself into interviewing.  Again.

I wish I knew what it all was.

I wish I could find someone to talk to that would help me figure it out.  I don't think I'm doing very well.

I looked back at my posts and last year June when my job started to look sketchy.  Then they told me I might not have a job.  Then I had to really start looking.

Then I had a moment's peace, thinking maybe I'd explore something else - write a book, do something, and try to make something positive of it.

And then I got offered the full-time job of my dreams, and life was busy and fast and I took the job.

And nearly a year later I'm miserable and jobless.

And... you know what?  I'm sitting here at home by myself, having a pity party.  What the heck IS that?

I went back and read my old posts.  I was going along well.  I was in shape better than I have been in 20 years, looking and feeling good.

I hit a BUMP with my job.  That's it.  Grand scheme of things - I tried it, it didn't work.  I need to MOVE on, not run it over in my head so much, and take it as it comes and have FAITH that God is on my side. He has good things in store for me.

Period.

I can't sit here and dwell on this for hours at a time.  Maybe I need to go see someone and talk it out.  Then I do it.  Whatever the rate - I'm done.  I quit --which I've wanted to do for months-- I should rejoice and take advantage of it, instead of sitting here feeling crappy about it.

Yes.

I Think I'm Going To Quit My Job

I said it.  I know I have to, I just don't know how or when.  I know that, optimally, it would be nice to do it and have a break.  Maybe a month.  It would be hard (financially), but I think that's where I'm at mentally and emotionally.  If I don't do it soon I might have a nervous breakdown.

It's hard because I sincerely love it.  I'm proud of what I do, I do a good job, and I enjoy it.  I add value to the workplace.

But my reasons for needing a change are larger than my reasons for staying.  They mean more to me.

I hope that I don't look back and regret it, but I don't think I will.  I regret the time I would have away from my family for the next few years, and that is time I will never get back.  I don't need to be with them every second, but I do want to be there for the milestones, the dinners.  The long run, if I can.  There will be time in my life, I suppose, for a full-time job, or one that takes more of me than my off-time life - but now isn't the time.

It's going to take strength in me to do this.

On another note, I haven't lost any weight since the beginning of the month.  It started out looking promising, but I'm no better off half-way through.  I'm disappointed.  Frustrated.  I'm starting to get depressed, wanting to just curl up in a ball and not move for a long, long time.

I don't know if a shift in schedule (my job) will be what I need.  I really don't.