Saturday, October 01, 2011
This has been a difficult month for me. My mother passed away. On top of that my therapist decided to go private and my clinic have not found anyone to replace her yet. I am trying to be strong and take one day at a time.
I have been diligent with my fitness routine, I am doing at least 30 minutes of cardio everyday and I recently joined the YMCA. I feel very excited about my workout program. I am very happy with my decision. I now look at working out as something fun. I am starting to enjoy the pain one gets from a good workout. I have been a bit careless about my nutrition, though. The days that I overeat are becoming more and more often. Thus, I need to pay more attention to it. This will be one of my goals for this month, be as diligent with my food tracking as I am with my workouts.
My other goal is to fight the feeling of wanting to isolate myself from others. Whenever I feel that depression is taking the best of me I tend to hide myself from the world, then wallow in self pity, start hating myself for doing nothing and start wishing that I had the courage to kill myself. In the past years, the depression has taken my job, tons of my money, my energy, my self esteem, my trust. I can not allow myself to follow the same path again. I am not going to let myself fall in the cycle of self harm laziness and self hatred. So I am putting myself out there. I am going to let others, the world help me.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
My weight has been fluctuating between 174 and 176 lbs for the last week. I know it is normal, I should not worry about this and keep doing what I am doing. I gain weight mostly around my belly, the problem of being an anxious person. So I measured my waist and I am not gaining weight around my belly, in fact, is slowly decreasing. I know I should not obsess about this. However, my need to be perfect is haunting me. The nirvana fallacy attacks me everyday and sometimes stops me from doing anything.
I feel like I need to be perfect because of my deep fear of being rejected. When I was a child people around me, including my mother, used to say I was ugly and many many times I felt rejected. I was extremely smart, that was one thing that everybody seemed to unanimously agree with. I could not be pretty but I was smart. I went through life pushing myself to a higher education so people would accept me.
Last year I finished my PhD in Astrophysics. Many people, who I talk to, do not know what Astrophysics really means but they know it means being smart. However, I feel miserable about it. In my mind my PhD thesis was far from being perfect and I did not deserve the degree. I feel I am unable to move forward with my life. Nowadays I feel I am not smart and I fear that sooner or later people will find it out. I am so so afraid of being rejected. I feel like I have nothing to offer.
I know it is silly. I know I am wrong, thinking like this, dismissing anything in the real world because in my mind I compare it to an unrealistic and perfect alternative. It is a logic error. I am not perfect, in fact, nobody is.
So what if my weight is not going down? I should be patient and keep doing what I am doing and try to move forward. Keep in mind that I am not perfect and I may not be the best but I am resilient and strong.
Then I went jogging... I ran for about 2 miles without stopping.
I know I am not there yet but I can already see the changes in my body when I look at myself in the mirror. For me, this is not just about losing weight. It's about moving forward, being patient, loving myself and finding peace and contentment in every moment of my life. Seeing every step for what it is and above all being patient is the key for me to realize that I can do this.
Sometimes, I close my eyes and I imagine myself with less 10, 20... 50 lbs When I open my eyes again, the 10 to 50 lbs are still there and I am disappointed with myself.
So I try to I imagine myself to be one of my friends. I always try to be patient, understandable and encourage my friends to follow their dreams. If one of my friends would tell me they would like to lose weight, I would encourage them to be patient, to take one step at a time, to follow a healthy diet and to work out instead of expecting them to do the impossible. So why do I expect myself to do the impossible and to be perfect? If all have I done is to close my eyes, what am I expecting to happen? Some kind of magic that will make 10-50 lbs of my body mass to vanish?
I am taking the right steps and I can do this. The only thing that is in my way is my need to be perfect, my fear of being rejected. The good new is I can not change reality but I can change the way I look at it. I am not perfect and I will never be. What's the fun in being perfect anyway?
Sunday, August 14, 2011
I hate this city. I do not want to be here in ten years from now. This place has nothing to offer me. I did not plan to move here.
We came back because my father-in-law was dying. I spent all my savings with an unplanned change of plans and then I got stuck here.
I had two weeks to pack, sell or donate the things we could not keep. At least I did not have to worry about my travel arrangements as my secretary was taking care of that, I thought. I was wrong, we have two cats and we could not take both of them in same flight during the winter time. After days of talking back and forth with the airline, my husband and I had to take different flights so we could bring the cats with us.
My husband traveled two days ahead of me and I staid behind taking care of the last details and finish packing. Fortunately, I had plenty of help from friends and friends of friends. I was not entirely alone. I had also the youngest and craziest cat keeping me company and making me laugh.
I will always remember this woman, who helped me pack the rest of my stuff, said to me: "You know, I find that the most stressful situations in life are: moving, marrying and the dead of a close one." I turn to her smiling "Then I guess I just hit the jackpot. Got married three months ago, I am moving to place more than 5000 miles away so my husband can say goodbye to his dad who is dying of cancer and ..." a brief moment of silence " and I have to finish my PhD thesis in the next couple of months". One may have expected that after this another moment of silence and sadness would follow but surprisingly we started laughing and then joking. A moment of dark humor followed instead and it helped me went through the day without stressing. This was the last day I remember being relax and feeling free with options. I have been anxious and stressed since then, except yesterday. Later in the afternoon I went jogging.
For the first time in a long time I felt mindful. I did not give up or fought with myself constantly not to do it. I held my head high and my back straight instead of head down and looking at the ground. I could not care less about who was looking at me, if I looked like chubby chick running or care about the guys staring at my boobs bouncing. All I cared was how good it felt running, having the wind blowing on my face and feeling the warm sunlight on my skin. I was enjoying myself and the world around me. No stress, no struggle, only peace of mind.
The route was endless but I felt I could run forever. When I first saw the finish line I did not whine about how far it was and how badly I wanted to give up. I speed up. When I finished my arms were up in the air with glory.
I head home. I walked down the street and saw that the "crackheads" and the "white trash" had been replaced by these beautiful people: a tiny old lady in a cowboy hat walking her tiny dog, a group of young people talking and laughing, a young man in his bicycle riding towards the sunset, the kid playing with his roller skate. Not once my head was down looking at my feet. I knew I was taking the right steps because I was home.
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
Giving up was so much easier.
When did I start quitting on myself?
I can not remember exactly when this downward spiral of self-destruction started but now I know what caused it. Everyday I fight to love myself for who I am and stop the depression from taking control of my thoughts, my life.
Run, girl run. I was pushing myself to run. The finish line seemed to be so far away but I could see it. Part of me was trying to sabotage myself once again by convincing me that I have done enough. If I would quit, it would not be so bad. No, it would not be so bad but I can do this. Why stop if I can do this? I did want to give up badly but I needed to keep going. I was not fighting to run an extra mile, I was fighting mostly with that part of me that feeds on myself destruction like an addicted.
That's the hardest part of my day, fighting with myself to do things that I used to enjoy. Sometimes, I lose the battle and I have to start all over again.
The only difference now, I know I can do this and I will do this.
So run, girl run. I can see the finish line, it is closer than you think.
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