Well, let's try this again.
Since March, a lot has happened.
I managed to eke out a trip to see The Man. So that was great.
Regrettably, I developed a fierce case of plantar fasciitis and a bone spur, and couldn't walk around so I spent a lot of time sleeping, watching tv, and taking public transportation out to dinner. Really. Good. Dinners. It wasn't our usual sort of visit but it was wonderful nonetheless; that's the thing about your Person - it's always wonderful to be in their company.
Then I bawled my eyes out as I flew back to the myriad of schtuff awaiting my return at my post in the trenches on the frontline.
Well, anyway.
Nearly two weeks later, my uncle did indeed pass away. Horribly sad in and of itself, it triggered a whole chain reaction regarding loss and things left undone or unsaid, unchecked items on ignored bucket lists - - you get the idea.
Then Easter, and April vacation, and a lot of anxiety for me - more than usual - and then Mother's Day.
All those were okay - and then Weight Watchers.
Let me say this about that: I am not comfortable in my skin anymore. I was for a while, when I was young, until some clod told me I shouldn't be because I wasn't the right shape, size, and my appearance was objectionable. Even today - - without mirrors or cameras or society, telling me how inappropriate and horrible I am for not being the right size - - I feel ok in my own skin, but then , inevitably, you DO see yourself in the mirror or a photo and you cringe because of the disparity between your appearance and Sofia Vergara's. That leads to the glum-and-moodies which leads to sausage and green pepper pizza with wine and Coffee Coffee Heath Bar Crunch for dessert. I don't care what you say - I love vegetables (some of them) and I drink - even enjoy - water, but veggies and fruit are not satisfying. Water is not satisfying and drinking a bathtub full before meals does not make me less hungry, it makes me nauseated. So then I"m hungry and nauseated. Yayness.
So? There's exercise for that, I hear you saying. Yes. Yes there is. But it's miserable and I hate it. I do not get an endorphin rush, a full tide of seratonin, a wash of dopamine. Exercise pisses me off and makes me hungry, and not in the "Oh I'll have an orange" or "Yum, salad!" kind of way -- no -- more in the "Where's the closest Burger King" kind of way. Which is a real kick in the teeth, if you ask me. I have yet to meet a professional who can explain this to me. Further, if you had occipital neuralgia, trigeminal neuralgia, osteoarthritis, a bone spur and plantar fasciitis on top of an innate loathing of exercise and scorching depression, you wouldn't entertain the idea of serious exercise either.
I did Weight Watchers years ago , before Jack, and lost over 40lbs (3 stone for you UK types). Then Jack came, and I gained 22 lbs. Then Jack was born and I lost most of that...but then the postpartum depression grabbed me in its teeth, shaking me around but good, and then came Prozac and twenty five pounds of its friends. Then came William. I only gained 2 lbs - TWO! - with him, and let him sort of live off the land, as it were - - and the week after I delivered him, I was back in regular jeans - nice! ...except for the resurgence of Postpartum depression and the reintroduction of prozac, which resulted in more weight coming to the party.
I wish I were one of those people who forgets to eat, or is so stressed / sad / depressed / tired / happy that her appetite vanishes. But no. No. I wake up hungry, I go to sleep hungry, and I'm physically hungry - like, with a growling tummy - most of the day. Add stress or sadness or depression or fatigue or anything , particularly CONSCIOUSNESS , to the mix, and my appetite flares up in a major way.
I'm hungry RIGHT NOW.
But I digress.
Weight Watchers may take more time than Atkins or Ideal Protein or Zone or Paleo - but the fact is - when girlfriend here needs her chocolate? She needs her chocolate. Ditto wine, potatoes, bread, ice cream. Did I say chocolate?
So WW is the only plan I know which allows it. Nothing is off limits. And it worked before. And twice after that. I dropped 30 lbs after my marriage went down in flames and I dropped 20lbs again after that - it's the keeping it off which presents the biggest problem.
And now, lamentably, I am no longer 28. So am old and disgraceful and my self esteem is circling the drain. Before I wind up on My 600 Pound Life, I decided to try WW again. 3 weeks later, I am down 8 lbs. That's not horrible. So... eh.
Also, my nerves are breaking apart and I'm going to pieces. So getting kind of a lot of professional support at the moment in an attempt to get my shit together and be a Real Person who looks cute(ish) and gets compliments sometimes and doesn't cry when she gets overwhelmed in the paper goods aisle at the supermarket because she can't find her usual trashcan liners. This totally happens.
Well, and so. You're caught up.
I need a haircut, a vacation, a box of fifties, and a spa day. Also someone to walk behind me kicking me in the pants, away from the kitchen and through the entropy in my closet which, while lovely, has gone *boom* , spewing contents everywhere - and me without any wherewithal to manage it.
Just...really overwhelmed right now. Trying to keep perspective and forge ahead in the right direction. And I have come to the worrying conclusion that for now, I have to come first. Ish. After the children, obviously. Thing is, I am not at my peak performance or my highest heights, not at my best or strongest. I am here and I am still plugging away and yes, I'm still standing. But people better be prepared to meet me where I am for a while.
Allrighty then.
