Stumbling

After Christmas I was feeling pretty proud of myself for not gaining any weight and being able to control my eating.  I am no longer feeling very proud.  Right now I am experiencing a vicious cycle of eating and guilt.  As I mentioned previously, I haven't been able to go to the gym for a while because of scheduling issues with my husband and care for my kids.  I am extremely frustrated that I haven't been able to go because the gym is the one place I can be free of responsibilities and schedules and deadlines.  I can put all my negative energy into my workout, leaving satisfied and feeling good.  I haven't had that outlet for what feels like a lifetime, and I have been eating with very little self control.  I feel terrible.

My guilt is eating me up, and instead of writing a nonsense post about how I am working through my struggles, I'm just going to be honest.  I am eating through my struggles!  My stomach is in revolt, and my guilt is just making it worse.  So, I am going to take my own advice.  I am going to stop feeling guilty and do something about it.  I am writing all of this because if I am not honest with myself nothing can change.  If I pretend I am doing really great, I will just make things worse for myself.  This is not something I want.  I don't want to eat so much that my stomach hurts.  I don't want to fill myself full of junk that my body doesn't need or want.  I don't want to, but I do.  I feel completely out of control.

When I am sitting by myself, after the kids go to bed and I finally have a moment to sit down, I want chocolate.  I want candy.  I want anything that will fill the hole created by the quietness and stillness.  I get a rush when I eat a piece of delicious, beautiful chocolate.  The way it feels on my tongue, the feel of it as it melts in my mouth, the flavors as they wash over my entire consciousness...I just can't resist it right now.  It is like a drug.  I crave it.  I want it.  I fantasize about it.  And when I eat it I feel a sense of elation, and then a big let down, because as soon as I swallow, it's gone.  Then comes the guilt.  Oh, the guilt.  It feels worse than the stomach ache.  Every time I binge on something, I feel as though I have let myself down in a huge way.  I feel like I have betrayed myself and everything I have worked so hard to build in my life.  I feel like I have failed.

But I haven't failed.  The one thing I have going for myself right now is the fact that I am fully conscious of my struggle.  I know which emotions have triggered my backslide, and I realize that there are other ways to deal with them.  I also know that I don't have to go to the gym to work out.  There are plenty of things I can do at home that are just as good as what I can do at the gym.  It's not the same, but it's close enough. 

If I can convey anything through this post, it is this.  Just because I have struggled with my eating and exercise in the past few weeks doesn't mean that I have failed in living a healthy lifestyle.  It just means that I have struggled.  It means that, though I have lost an ounce of my resolve, I am still on the right track, because I can recognize what is going on.  I admit that I have struggled, and that I have had a few bad weeks.  I admit that this is not a lifestyle I want to slip back into, no matter how enticing it might be.  I love myself too much to continue to sabotage my health.  We are worth so much more.

That said, I think I'll stop writing and go do some crunches.

The Sacrifices We Make

Life is full of sacrifice.  It's funny isn't it?  In order to live, we need to sacrifice.  I have been thinking a lot this past week about sacrifice and how much we give up to have the things we want or need.  Sometimes sacrifice upsets our balance.  Sometimes attaining balance requires sacrifice.  In the great order of the universe, you have to give in order to get.  That's it.  Everyone gives something.

My last post was about the big changes that are occurring in my family in the next nine months.  I told you all about how my husband is going back to college to change our lives.  I also mentioned how difficult this year is going to be, and if this past week is any indication, it's going to be hard.  It will take a lot of sacrifice.  My husband has worked nights full time all week, and then when he comes home, he gets ready for school.  Four hours of that, and then he comes home to sleep.  Basically, we haven't seen him all week. 

Maybe I am just having a pity party, but I don't think I have been alone this much since I actually lived alone!  After my kids go to bed, it's just me, in my creaky, drafty house.  I've barely left the house this week, except to take my daughter to school and go to the store.  I haven't gone to the gym in ages.  It seems as though my husband isn't the only one sacrificing for this!  But we knew this going in.  We did.  That doesn't mean I can't struggle with it.

And that's what I have been doing this week - struggling.  I am finding myself feeling down after the hectic craziness of my work and kids is done for the day.  I am feeling like I give and give and give and am not getting anything back.  I am feeling out of balance.  My eating is out of whack, my jaw is sore from clenching my teeth all day and night, and that cold I thought was gone is creeping its way back into my tired lungs. I eat when I'm not hungry, and I don't eat when I am.  Today I actually made myself sick eating too much - something that has happened more than once this week.

I'm really good at putting on a happy face.  I'm good at not letting anyone know I am feeling down or upset.  I am one of those people who can smile at you sweetly while I berate you in my head.  When there are people around or if there is work to be done, I can bury it and trudge along, not letting anyone see what's actually going on inside.  The unfortunate thing about this ability is that it is incredibly destructive and it upsets the balance within myself.  It eats away at me as it builds and builds, and then I implode.  And then I cry.  And then I eat.

When my plans to go to the gym yesterday had to be changed, I almost went off the deep end.  I smiled, and said it was no problem, but it really was.  I was frustrated.  I wanted to cry.  I wanted to scream and run around and throw things.  But do you know what I did?  You guessed it.  I ate.  By myself.  Then I had to stay up all night with a sick baby, so I swallowed it.  There are more important things.  I am making sacrifices for the betterment of my family.  We all are.

Life is full of circumstances where we must sacrifice something. For me, right now, it is time with my husband, time to go to the gym and time to have adult company.  I am optimistic that it won't be like this forever, and that at the end of it all, things will be a million times better for my family than they are right now.  But the journey is going to be hard.  We are only one week in, and already I feel as though I have sacrificed a lot.  I know my husband has too. 

What I have to do now is take a step back and try to gain some perspective.  I have to pull myself out of my inner cycle of destruction and remind myself why we are doing this.  I need to focus on the bigger picture.  I need to recognize those emotional triggers that lead to overeating and inner destruction and curb them before they start.  I have worked too hard to lose fifty pounds to let this erase it all.  I have been through too much in my life to allow something like this to depress me.  So, here I am, letting it all out, trying to rid myself of this negativity.

I'm really good at pretending, but I don't want to do it anymore.  I want to just be real and deal with it.  Yes, I have had a hard week.  Yes, I have many, many more of them ahead of me.  But honestly, I have dealt with worse.  I will live.  And I will be happy I did.

Big Changes. Big.

Change is scary.  No, it's not just scary.  It's downright frightening.  Tomorrow, the life of my family changes.  We will go from having a husband and father who works stupidly hard at a job that he hates, to having a husband and father who is also a student!  My husband is going back to school.  I've said for months now that I feel like change is coming in my life, and well, here it is.  The only problem with change is that it brings a great deal of uncertainty.  The problem with my husband going back to school right now is that we have two young children to support.  We have car payments.  I am still paying back student loans.  And now it looks as though we will be needing to move in May.  Boy, when it rains, it pours!  My poor husband is not only going to be attending school full time, but he will also still need to work full time until I can get my ducks in order to make my business bring in more profits.

So, I am scared...frightened...maybe a little terrified.  But I'm also really, really excited!  My husband is a gifted creative mind whose talents are being wasted in an iron foundry.  Instead of creating beautiful pieces of art and graphics, he shovels sand.  Talk about wasted potential.  So, he is taking a program that will allow him to become a graphic designer in nine months.  This is where he is supposed to be.  It's going to be a hard road, but I really feel like this is the path to take.  It's kind of a "now or never" sort of thing.  If we don't take a step, plunge, leap of faith, then he ends up stuck in an iron foundry, shoveling sand, each shovelful burying his spirit deeper and deeper until it is entirely gone.  This is not the life I want for the person I love most in the world.  Not even close.

So, as my family embarks on creating a new life, and I have both terror and excitement running through my veins, I wonder, how many people stay stuck in lives they hate just because they are afraid of change?  I can relate to this fear.  My husband has a job that pays the bills, and he is sacrificing this for a new career that has the potential not to make the same kind of money.  If I'm being honest, this is the first thought that crossed my mind when he said he wanted to go back to school.  But then the next thought was, "Wow, he could potentially do something he loves!"  It's a toss up.  Which one is more important?  We have chosen the latter, but many do not.  I can understand that too.  This life we lead has its ups and downs.  Whichever path you choose, something must be sacrificed.  If you choose the stable, terrible job, as we have done these past few years, you sacrifice your drive and ambition, your time and energy, and your desires.  If you sacrifice the job, then comes the stress of how do deal with finances.  In our case, we are also sacrificing time with each other and the kids for the next nine months, but hopeful that it will lead to better circumstances.

So many of us live in mediocrity because we are unwilling or unable to embrace change.  We live out our lives with unfulfilled desires, unhappiness nagging at the back of our minds and hearts.  We try to do things, little things to appease ourselves, but we never really take the necessary plunge that will change it all.  We tell ourselves that it's not the right time, we don't have enough money, we just can't do it.  But is that true?  Granted, sometimes circumstances prevent us from making a much needed change, but there are things we can do to make it happen.  Whether it is taking a night class or getting your butt to the gym for the first time, all that is needed to start that snowball rolling is one step.  Just one step.  So, what are you waiting for?  GO!

Fifteen Long Years

January 20th marks fifteen years since the darkest day of my life.  I can only imagine a handful of things happening to me that would compete with this day.  On January 20th fifteen years ago, my mother died.  I have now lived longer without her than I have with her.  This day brought forth a downward spiral of dark days.  Left with a mother-sized hole in me, I proceeded to live my life as a self-destructive, self- loathing mess.  Thankfully, my mother taught me some important things about life that I eventually remembered, and I have been able to actually live, even though she is gone. 

Losing someone you love is probably the most devastating thing a person can go through.  As a young teenager, losing my mother compounded everything I was already struggling with, and added a heap the size of a mountain on top if it all.  I contemplated taking my own life, so I didn't have to live without her, but found I lacked the desire to die.  Instead, I tried desperately to forget, using any means necessary.  I partied.  I worked really hard in school.  I allowed people to use and abuse me because I was searching for something only my mother could give me - love, safety, security. 

But I don't need to write about all the things I went through as a grieving daughter.  I don't need to elaborate on the pain that ripped my soul in half.  I don't need  to tell you how dark my life became.  I can tell you that I am still alive.  I can also tell you that not only am I living and breathing, I am happy, healthy and thriving, because after I was finished forgetting, I began to remember my mother.  Even though I miss my mom every day, I remember that even when she was dying, she was so alive.  The day she died, we went to see her at the hospital, and my sister and I got each got to spend a moment alone with her.  It was surreal to me, and I don't think I actually realized it was the last time I would see her alive.  Even then, there was so much left in her.  She must be living on because there was too much left. 

Her last words to me were, "I'll love you forever, and take care of my flowers."  She had gotten many bouquets of flowers from friends and family, and the ever practical and humorous woman she was, her last words to me were both deeply moving and typically her.  The one thing that helps me to live is remembering just how much life she had, and I like to think that she passed that down to my sister and I.  I think we inherited her strength, tenacity and most of all, her capacity to love. 

God I miss her.

Pushing it to the Limits

Do you ever push yourself to your absolute limit?  Do you take yourself to the point where you know that if you just take one more step, one more breath, speak one more word, you will spontaneously combust?  I have been there.  Actually, I more than 'been there'.  I have lived there, on the brink of insanity for many, many years.  Somehow though I remain, from my point of view, alright. 

I have a tendency to bite off more than I can chew.  I think over the years I have grown some pretty fierce fangs!  I load myself up with responsibilities, activities, jobs, tasks, etc. because I have an innate need to be doing.  When I am relaxing (which by the way, I force myself to do often), I feel a little pit in my stomach because I know there is something that needs to be done.  But I force myself to sit there, and not do anything because I know that if I keep on going, I will fry my brain.  Thank goodness I have become vaguely aware of my limits.  Because if I didn't know just how far I could push myself before the breaking point, I think I'd be living not on the brink, but in deep, deep...water.

Let me illustrate.  I am a teacher.  My first real job was in a small town, teaching primarily junior high.  My previous experience from university practica and substitute teaching was with middle school/junior high students.  So I felt like it would be a piece of cake.  I was prepared.  I had it down!  I had never had any significant issues with students in the past, and in fact, had received almost all positive feedback.  Was I ever in for a rude awakening!  It turned out that I knew absolutely nothing about (or so I felt) this particular set of kids, and I barely kept my head above water the entire year.  I cried every day, and it was all I could do to keep it together in front of my students.  I became that teacher...you know, the one kids love to push.  The one kids are proud to say they gave a nervous breakdown.  Had the school year been any longer, I am certain they would have succeeded. 

That was my limit.  I was dangerously close to going over that proverbial line, and plunging head first into the deep end.  Thankfully, all subsequent experience has been incredibly positive, and I came back from the brink.  This however, was a major factor in my decision to take a hiatus from teaching and open my day home so I could have another child and stay home.  The day home has had its own challenges though, and I believe that if I didn't know just where my limits are when dealing kids, then I would very well be going back to teaching (maybe in a college...).  Sometimes teaching is easier.  Sometimes.

I am not saying all of this to tell people to shy away from their limits.  Exactly the opposite actually.  I think we need to push ourselves and find out just how far we can go, otherwise, we are not living up to our full potential.  Another thing I believe very strongly is that our limits are very elastic.  The more we push, the farther out they will go, especially when we aren't ramming our heads against the wall with all we've got.  A gentle nudge will often do the trick, and then you know. 

Our mental limits are much like our physical limits in this way.  Fifty pounds ago, (I've lost a total of 50 now!) I could do maybe twenty minutes of moderate cardio, and then I was done.  Now, my body can go and go and go.  I have yet to find the point where I need to puke (well...once or twice I thought maybe).  My asthma has improved, my stamina is better, my strength is more.  This comes from pushing my physical limits.  It comes from working hard enough that I can't have a conversation while I'm exercising, and I feel ready to drop by the time I'm done.  It's challenging those limits and not accepting that they are concrete.  They are not.

Finding balance in life is about knowing your limits.  It's about pushing them when it is time to push, and taking a break when it's time to rest.  It's about challenging yourself, but not making yourself crazy.  There is a fine line between a challenge and an impossible task, so feel those limits and take it easy.  Push, but don't run in head first.  At least that's my preference.  I am trying to be reasonable about how much I take on, and I think that even though I am busy, and my life is very, very full, I don't yet have more than I can handle.  I know I am very close to my limit right now, but I am not over it. 

Have you pushed your limits lately?  How do you challenge yourself?

Ahhhhhhhh!

I have not been to the gym in weeks.  Weeks! I am ashamed to say that I allowed circumstances to hold me back from working out.  Ugh.  But I'm not writing to beat myself up.  No, I am writing to express my extreme pleasure in the fact that, not only did I make it to the gym tonight, but my body (and mind) is just elated about it.  I feel soooooo good.  Ahhhhhhh.

I have realized, again, that I love to work out.  I love being active, not because I particularly enjoy the exercise, but I enjoy what it does for me.  I love the pain of my muscles squeaking to life after a long period of dormancy (like this month!), and then releasing the pent up energy in sheer joy.  I love when I have to really push myself past a certain point to get my stride, and then my lovely brain releases all those endorphins, making me feel, well, good.  I love sweating so much that I shiver later on, and to tell you the truth, exercise makes my mind calm down, allows me to put many things into perspective, and release frustration, negative vibes and lethargy.  Exercise makes my PMS take a hike too, which I LOVE.

Another thing I love after a good work out is sitting down on a mat and stretching it all out.  My heart rate, calming after the cool down, slows even more as I breathe deeply into my muscles, pushing out all the lactic acid.  Along with the lactic acid, out go my fears, my worries, and all the things that nag at my brain day in and day out.  My mind releases those mile-long to-do lists and stresses about kids, money, time, weight and food.  As I exhale, I push it all away, allowing my limbs to direct the negative energy elsewhere.  I love working out.

Being able to finally get to the gym this evening reminded me of all of the above, and it also shown me that I don't have to feel negatively about being a little lazy over the holidays, or having to work around difficult, impossible schedules.  I don't have to feel badly that I ate my dessert nine times out of ten this season.  I don't have to beat myself up for savoring a few glasses of wine.  Actually, when I really think about it, this holiday season was kind of successful.  I went to several Christmas parties where dinner was provided, buffet style, and I still took a modest amount of food and stopped eating when I was full.  I ate my dessert, yes, but I didn't eat three helpings of stuffing and gravy.  I ate two lovely Christmas dinners, and again, I did really well!  I only ate one helping of food each time, and allowed myself wine and dessert, but didn't go overboard.  I got to dress up, wear make-up, do my hair and I fit perfectly into all of my "skinny" clothes without all that crazy body-sucking-in-heavy-duty-underwear.  It was great.  I felt great, I looked great and I did great.  I'm actually quite proud of myself.

Even though I didn't work out this Christmas, and I ate my fair share of desserts and chocolates, and at times, felt guilty about it, I still see it as a success.  I didn't gain any weight, and I actually still have lots of goodies that were given to me sitting in the packaging, unopened.  That in and of itself is a personal victory!  The only thing I have regretted this season is not working out, and tonight, my body responded as if nothing was amiss.  I got on the elliptical machine and pushed hard, and my body did its job.  It felt awesome, and I am so pleased to have made it through Christmas mostly unscathed!  So, I pat myself on the back, and say well done Dara.  You didn't mess up all your hard work.  Good job.