So, how's that JOY thing going for me?
You can't hear my sarcasm, so it doesn't matter.
But, here's the thing: I'm trying. I'm working. I'm shifting my thoughts. I have a hump that need to get through. To power through. A funeral. I don't do very well with that stuff.
And then some other things.
My eating has been OK. But my mindfulness on the disastrous state of crankiness is at an all-time high, which makes me think I'm onto something.
I sincerely believe if I can tackle some of my joy-sapping behaviors, the food part will follow.
It's not quick, easy, or painless.
So, my JOY for today?
Cooking dinner for my family. (Food-related, I know this.) Chicken, rice, macaroni and cheese, and kale. Bacon. All of that. But getting some hearty food on the table for my family amidst the chaos. And watching my kids eat happily. Not to the point of being stuffed, fat and unhappy, but healthfully. That means SO much. They can lead by example and I can follow.
I had more than I should have (especially in the wine department). But I'm allowing myself to wallow in some greif. To get it out.
I'm still thankful for a nice view out a hospital window.
The smell of clean laundry.
A new appliance being delivered soon.
Healthy, happy kids.
A doggy that loves me unconditionally. Who is soft and special.
A boss who is willing to let me off early so I can wallow in my sadness.
A renewed sense of being comfortable with who I am.
I'm on my way. Slowly.
Mind and spirit first, body second.
I don't really know what I weigh right now. Could be somewhere around 295. It doesn't matter really. I'm uncomfortable, depressed and miserable in my own skin. But what else is new?
So, that's not really why I'm writing. I'm writing because it is a new year. New Years bring on a battery of emotions for fatties and fitties alike. Wanting to change, renew old vows of fitness and better eating... all that fun stuff.
I'm not exempt.
Not at all.
I'm scarily still motivated, even though my recent stint of eating well and exercising didn't budge much on the scale. Go figure. But still, what I am thinking about right now, as I ponder taking the financial and meaningful jump into the world of paid fitness memberships is - JOY.
Yeah. JOY. I keep reading blogs and posts of people who have lost HUGE amounts of weight and feel great and blablbla and why can't I be like them is the question in my brain most of the time.
I'm not JOYful at all. I'm rather a negative, depressive person. There's a connection there. It seems almost easier to change the body than the brain. For people who just make bad food choices, getting on a simple path of eating well can bring on (nearly instant), satisfying results. But for people like me, who eat more with the brain, the heart--emotions... it isn't just about "sensible choices." Which leaves me to wonder if I try to change the brain, then maybe I can find some success in my body (and life) as well.
I also have to give fair thought time to wondering if I just flat out like being a negative depressed person. What a joy I must be to be around, eh? But my joy (or learned comfort) is in misery. And when I'm happy, wondering when the next misery might come. Not wanting to start off the new year saying, "It's going to be a GREAT one!!!" because what if it isn't? What if it is laced with a cloud?
Because it is 2012 and I'm unhappy about a whole world of crap, channeling my misery constantly. I have legitimate things to be unhappy about. Severe crosses to bear. My spirit is messed up. I focus on that misery and miss the JOYS that come my way. I allow myself to smile, and enjoy a moment, but I don't really bask in it. I'm afraid to be happy. I'm wired to be negative.
No fitness blog worth reading is channeled in negativity. None. There is no success. That's where the fatness comes in. Connection? Must be.
So maybe my NYR needs to be one with less of a weight-related slant and more of a positive/joy related slant.
Happy no matter frigging what. You can be miserable, but then when someone comes along to cheer you up, you fight it because that misery is comfort on some level. You don't want to smile, you want to cry and whine, and kick and scream and pity.
What kind of life is that? Where have I been short-changing myself to partake in such misery constantly? Is it just me and I need to settle and that is just who I am and be Scrooge? Or can choosing JOY change a person?
What if I didn't satisfy that pity party for a while?