Last time I blogged, I sort of threw up all over the page. I felt guilty about it. I wanna be perfect you see. I don't want to be boring or pessimistic or a "Debbie Downer." So, I try to limit those blogs as much as possible and stay positive when I put something out "here."
When I logged back in and looked at all the responses to my last blog, it brought tears to my eyes, and I may have even sobbed a little bit. It's not about the number of responses. It blew me away that so many of you took the time to write such detailed, thoughtful, helpful, caring, loving, WONDERFUL responses to help me deal with my pain and anxiety. Writing those kinds of responses is time consuming and every one of you have lives to live.
I love you guys. There. I said it. I appreciate every word written.
You all don't really know who I am in real life. I try to keep things pretty anonymous here on SP because I don't want people I know in my community to read my blogs. What I put in my blogs is personal and makes me feel far too vulnerable. I'm not that open with folks. I hold my cards close to my ample bosom.
You see, I'm a perfectionist. (Not with everything. There are plenty of sloppily accomplished areas in my life.) The things that really matter to me have to be perfect. Fear of not being perfect sometimes handicaps me. My perfectionism blends with a fear of failure and fear of rejection--failure and rejection being the opposite of perfection, right? In person, I'm socially awkward--although I like to think I cover this pretty well with a quiet, studious facade.
I think I've always been socially awkward. I freaked when it was time to start preschool and can still vividly recall the feelings of separation anxiety triggered by it. However, life is the way it is and preschool was where I needed to be.
The summer between 4th and 5th grade, my family moved. All my friends were left behind and I started school in a very rural elementary school where everyone knew everyone else, and all the parents and grandparents and greatgrandparents had all gone to school together for generations. Except me. I was a city girl. I spoke proper grammar and was the fat kid. I was doomed from the start. Of course I didn't know this my first day of 5th grade in my new school. Mom and Dad told me I would make new friends--and eventually I did.
That first week, I sat behind a girl who was on the chubby side and she had the prettiest, long brown hair. I thought she was nice. So, I spent one night writing a two page letter about how I wanted to be her friend. At the end, I wrote, "Do you want to be my friend? Check yes or no." Of course, I drew those silly little boxes for her to check. I was so nervous giving her that note. I had poured my heart and soul into those pages. She read it, quickly checked "no" and tossed it back over her shoulder. Hmmm. I guess I laid it on a little thick, huh? I don't think she ever looked me in the eye again. Then again, I didn't look her in the eye again either.
Today I still proceed with caution in my relationships, frequently keeping people at arm's length. Wondering when I will run off the friend whom I believed to be so close. Wondering if I am saying the right thing or doing the wrong thing that will cause my friends to see me as the imperfect being that I am. I know that is silly, that we are all imperfect, and our eccentricities and imperfections make us interesting and fun.
Since my divorce I have lived my life in a tiny box. My family has pretty much been the extent of my social life. Mom, Dad, my kids, Brother and his wife and kids, Sister and her husband and kids.
Since becoming involved with SP, I have developed wonderful relationships with you guys. Some of us know each other better than others. I've had the opportunity to meet a SparkFriend in person (can't wait to catch up with her again) and when I get the chance will meet more of you. I've also been lucky to reconnect with an old friend (old, in that I knew her 15 years ago, not old as in age) and introduce her to SP. Lo and behold, she's been on her own journey as well and the timing has been serendipitous. Tonight, she and I are going to a movie and going to enjoy healthy refreshments while we talk and catch up. I'm so excited!
What I've been trying to say for the last novel is that you guys help me feel accepted. You make me feel loved and valued. Most importantly, you make me feel safe. Thank you.
As far as my plan goes, I'm doing great right now. My anxiety is soothed and I've realized things aren't so black and white. The end of the world has been narrowly averted! (please note sarcasm).
I've been killing it at the gym and am enjoying a rest day today. Because I don't know ultimately what kind of weekly calories burned number I'm going to average, I've been keeping my daily calorie differential at 1000 calories until I gather more data. I will probably have a smaller differential today because it's a rest day, and I want to eat more than 1200 calories. This morning I stepped on the scale and was at my lowest weight since joining SP. Whoo Hoo!
For the record, I love my new HRM. It is the bomb diggety. I like certainty. I like hard data. It makes me feel secure. I am sure I will plateau again and gripe about it again, but at least I know I can accurately measure my calories burned.
Yesterday I was called "skinny." While I know it's not exactly true, it feels good to hear the compliment.
Have a great weekend my beautiful, wonderful SparkFriends!