I'm conscious of where I'm at. If I weren't, I think I'd be back where I started.
But I'm about 10 pounds back up from where I figure my "good weight" is (260).
I'm 20 pounds up from where I was, though.
It's hard to accept that my focus has gone in other places, and my health takes a back seat. It's hard for me to wrap my brain around it. I don't know how long it takes to adjust to a new job? For me? Probably forever.
I'm a complicated person. I realize this. I feel like I have personal stuff to get in order, but life keeps happening, so personal stuff doesn't get in order.
But maybe it never does.
So, my new job - I have a love/hate relationship with it. Fancy that!!! Me?! Yes.
I love the work, the feeling of helping people, being helpful, and being in my element. But I hate that it consumes my life, and that my world, 80% of it, all revolves around WORK.
From 5am, to 5pm it's work. I'm either there, or planning to be there.
Get up, get ready, go, work, come home, unpack, pack for the next day, lay out clothes, try to come down from the day.
It's taken its toll on me, and I'm miserable.
It's a weird misery.
I feel useful and valuable (at work), but I'm worthless in the areas that are important to me (my home life).
The most important - to me - is the home life.
I can be replaced at work. I can't be replaced at home.
I only have a few years until my kids are all out of the house. Though they need me less than they used to, they don't need me tired, ornery, and useless.
I feel caught. I've got a fantastic job (I really do - I landed a job in my niche with a great company), which is why I didn't turn it down. But it was more than I wanted - which is why I'm regretting it.
I pray that it's not all for naught, and that God will send something my way. I really do. I don't care about how hokey that sounds. I'm hanging on by a thread daily. I feel regret, embarrassment, fear, when I think of moving on from this position. But I also feel trapped by where I am.
I don't want this to be me. I want to continue taking care of myself and the people around me. I want to figure things out. I'm 40. I'm on the top of the hill riding down and I don't think I'll have myself or the world figured out in the next 20 years, but I dn't want to look back and wonder where they all went, either.