Friday, January 11, 2013
The last few days have been so hard!
It seems my hormones decided to start "the week that doesn't count" early and with a vengeance. It's been miserable, because I've been spending the past few days at work sulking and gloomy for absolutely no reason whatsoever, and I've been struggling with food more than I have for several, several months. Everything seems so delicious - even stuff I normally wouldn't want to eat! And my self control seems as flimsy as ever, and I'm ashamed to say I've been pushing (and exceeding) the top of my calorie range for several days running.
The only good news is that the crazy, intense food cravings have given way to severe cramps. Not sure if that's a good trade or not. So of course my mood is going to be out the window for awhile. At the very least, today was my Friday at work so I don't have to worry about going to work tomorrow feeling this way.
Anywho I really, really need to wake up bright and early tomorrow and hopefully have the place to myself. As shameful as it is, I have to admit that I've let things pile up the past week. Dirty dishes, laundry, trash... I've neglected it all. And like my living quarters, my mood has seemed to develop a cluttered, trashy vibe to it. I'm in need of some emotional and literal cleansing, and the only way I can do that in peace is without having others around to throw off my mojo (or make me wait to use the dishwasher or the dryer). I know. When it comes to getting my chores done, I'm downright self-centered. Hopefully my plans won't be derailed by having to go to work to pick up my paycheck... ugh, I've been trying to get my direct deposit set up for weeks and for some reason the lady in charge has to keep asking me for my bank info when it doesn't happen on payday.
Enough about tomorrow.
Yeah. So the whole exercise thing has been weighting on my mind a lot lately. I know everything about it. I know it's important, it's necessary. I know I'll feel better, lose more weight, make more progress, be healthier. I know the right things to do, how to do it. I KNOW. But I just can't make myself do it. And honestly that's the reason this is the first time in my life I have had any success with dieting or making healthier food decisions - it's because this is the first time I've wanted to do it, you know? All my past failures were because I wanted to be thin, but I really didn't want to do the work entailed in achieving thinness. Same goes for exercise. I straight up do not want to exercise. Plain and simple.
And it's frustrating! I want to want to. But I just... don't. The idea doesn't appeal to me. It's a repetitive chore, there's nothing that seems fun or beneficial or aesthetic about it, if that makes sense. And with my current lifestyle, it's not like I really have the time to take it slow and be adventurous. I work nights on a rotating schedule, so it's not like I can set a routine that's exactly the same everyday that I can rely on. And working out when I get home, in the middle of the night, wouldn't be an option considering everyone else is trying to sleep.
Did I mention that I just don't want to?
And I know, I know. All this negativity and "I can't" attitude isn't going to get me anywhere, and the whole point is to be saying "I can" and finding ways to make it work. But honestly, if the inspiration and the drive just isn't there, how am I supposed to? You can't build a house without setting a foundation, and the desire, the drive - that's the foundation.
*Sigh* I know I must be very frustrating to read right now. I'm frustrating myself.
One thing is for sure, though. If I really, truly want to reach my weight loss goals, I'm going to have to situate this whole fitness thing out. Soon.
Honestly, I think the whole lack of desire stems from some emotional baggage that I'm not ready to deal with (or I tell myself I'm not ready to deal with). When I visualize myself in my room with a workout video on the computer, I feel so many emotions - rage, shame, frustration, anger, vulnerability - and I'm positive that it has to do with past struggles. Most recently there was the whole thing with my ex husband. One of his passive aggressive ways of trying to get me to look a certain way so he'd love me was to suggest that I exercise. When he started working out (to impress his mistress, really), he really pressed me to work out with him. I want to say that it was because he wanted to do it with me, because he wanted to share a lifestyle change together and better ourselves, but that wasn't the case. It was all about how he didn't love me, how he wanted to change me, and I knew that. So all those emotions and the idea of working out got bundled together, if that makes sense.
And it's just, well. No work out experience I've ever had has been positive. It's always been someone pressing me to be something else, to liberate me from my fatness. To change me. And I've never been comfortable with that; from the perspective of people like my ex husband and the others who "encouraged" me, they were doing me a favor by helping me become a better person, by becoming healthier, etc etc, but in my eyes what they were saying was they couldn't accept who I was. They never stopped to think that I was fat because I wanted to be, because I was comfortable with it and the life choices that they came from. That just wasn't an option, and that refusal to accept me or what I wanted hurt. It was - and I'm not trying to be dramatic here - prejudice.
Part of why I don't want to work out at all, ever, is because it feels like it will never be on my terms. No matter the context it will always feel like I'm finally bowing to the prejudice I've been fighting against. It's like I can't make the choice to work out without the ideas of others being attached to it, and those feelings of not being accepted and being judged can't be done away with.
It's like if I do start working out, then that means I'm saying that everything my ex husband and all those others said and did towards me and body was right.
And now I'm tearing up. Thanks for that, hormones.
I'm sorry. I know this must seem dramatic and stupid. Whether they're dumb or hard to understand, these are emotions I've been dealing with for a very, very long time. Ever since I knew the shame of being that kid who was huffing and puffing and red in the face, sweating uncontrollably, and I KNEW those looks from everyone else were towards my flesh and full of pity. It probably wouldn't be such a big deal if that same look hadn't ended my marriage and broken my heart.
I wish I knew how to disassociate the two ideas, exercising and all those horrible emotions and ideas from the past. I wish I could control all the rhetorics and meanings attached to my body, whether the perceptions are mine or someone else's. But I can't.
This is another hurdle that I have to tackle on my journey. Somewhere I always knew this was coming, because it's always been at the very core of why this whole thing started. It's not just a natural aversion to exercise I'm trying to overcome, but the stigmas and emotions buried deep inside the shards of my heart.
I'm sorry I unloaded all of this here. It seems, though, that I had to unload it somewhere to be able to make any progress. I do want to finish this journey, and I believe that desire is greater than my dislike of exercise. I really do. I've come too far to let this be the end of it. Reading everyone else's blog, I'm so proud of them for continuing to lose and make progress and hit amazing goal marks for their weight loss, and I can't help but feel like the only thing keeping me from racing up and joining you all is this thing with exercise.
Maybe now that I've admitted all of this to myself, I can move forward. Perhaps small steps would be the best route. I don't have to expect myself to magically start doing an hour everyday, right? Maybe step one is to just do it once, regardless of time or action. I can start building from there.
I've always hated the feeling, the idea of running. I've never been good at it, never been fast despite several times of giving it my all. Whenever I have to run in my dreams, it's always like I'm spinning my wheels, and no matter how much I try to pump by legs, I can't manage anything more than a crawling pace, light some magical force is holding me back or levitating me just enough off the ground where I can't push off and go. It's been that way since I can remember, and now I can't help but feel like that magical force has been these feelings I'm wrestling with, about overcoming these horrible expectations from the past.
I have a new desire now. I want to know what it feels like to have my feet slap pavement, pushing me forward with unchallenged strength, to have nothing but the whir of air in my ears offer resistance. I want to know what it feels like to run without anything holding me back. Not old stigmas, not excessive flesh or weak muscles or other's opinions of my body.
I want to be free.