It has been a long recovery from the emotional crash and burn that i had on night shift but I have finally come around. So far in therapy, we have really made strides. I’m getting full spectrum lights in place to cope with the physical problems due to the 7 days of total darkness during night shift. Over the last 5 years I have always snapped back after a few days, usually over my long weekend, but not this time. That is what prompted me to finally seeking professional help. This was a great first step.
Now, for the good stuff.
This is going to sound so basic but I was in total control of my eating yesterday. I reached back to the very basics that got me to where I am now, the basics that somehow get lost in the swirl of life. I went out to eat, I ordered the healthiest thing I could find on the menu, put half of my entrée immediately in a carry out container. Made a large garden salad seasoned with different types of olives and a little bit of pico-de-gallo and a splash of red vinegar for extra flavoring and had a cup of vegetable soup.
The thing with me is that I eat too fast. By the time I have a plate down, I am automatically headed up for seconds. This time, I stopped midway through the meal and waited 10+ min while I sipped my coffee. I was allowing my body a chance to catch up and let me know when it was REALLY full instead of getting hit with the stuffed feeling 2-3 plates later.
Elementary right? Apparently not for me. Somehow the line between knowing and doing has gotten blurred over time. That was all I had, no ice cream or bread pudding. No build your own nachos, nothing. I felt full rather than feeling like I simply cut it off early but I wasn’t satisfied.
I walked out of there 10 feet tall, shoulders back and proud. I did it. I even went to the gym later that night. Came back and had something very simple and was again satisfied, not wanting anything else. I even stayed up and did stuff on the computer. That is another big munchie trigger for me. Not this time.
Yesterday, I had my A game going on. I felt hope for the first time in a while. I felt like I crossed a finish line. Someday, I’ll get my finishers medal when I step on the scale and it reflects not only the work I have done but the faith that it took to get there. Best of all, I watched a video of an Ironman race and started to cry.
I felt hot tears and my throat tighten up as I watched guys just like me cross the finish line. I cried because for the first time in a while I believed in my heart that someday I will be one of them and all it takes is a one day at a time commitment to what I just described above. I too will see it through. Hope has been a precious commodity of late for me but how sweet it is when it is re-kindled.
It is amazing how you find yourself wanting to do things when you have hope.
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