I. Will. Conquer. This. The thing is, I knew that I would gain weight. I knew that I would lose muscle tone. I stopped drinking green smoothies, I stopped doing yoga, and -- SURPRISE! -- my pants are tight. I've been obsessed over this, and instead of taking steps to fix it, have been wallowing in depression over the way I look. I have immobilized myself with shame over something that, if I got off of my ass, I could easily fix. Why won't I do it?
I also realized that I was gaining so much more than just a fabulous body when I focused on my health. I was happier, more at peace, more content, more motivated. It all changed when my shift changed, and I never had time to incorporate yoga with all of the working and driving. There wasn't enough time in the day. There is now, though, so what's my excuse? I bought fresh veggies and coconut milk last week for smoothies, and there they sit, untouched in the refrigerator. I'm not sad. I'm not depressed. I just never got back into the groove, and now I'm regretting it.
Family pictures are being taken in just over one week. Yeah, I just found out last night. A week isn't honestly long enough to change much about how I look, but it IS long enough to resume some healthy habits so that I FEEL better at picture time. And really, isn't that all I'm going for anyway? Right now, I'm wearing a size 8. I remember feeling jubilant, victorious when I was able to button and zip a pair of size 8 pants after I had Jewel. They didn't even technically fit. I couldn't breathe. But I felt like a smoking hot sex goddess. So why, now that I am wearing that EXACT SAME SIZE, do I feel like a jiggly blob of disgusting fat? It's all in my head. It's all in my head. It's. All. In. My. Head.
Today, my mom is taking the kids school shopping. This will give me a few hours to do a little more packing, finish my hypno homework, and do some ayurveda. I skipped ayurveda on Thursday and...oh, today is Thursday. Well, whatever. I skipped a week then. No biggie. The last hypno module was for scripts, so I need to write that. I'll be done in 3 more weeks!
I have heard back from a few prospective employers about jobs, so I'm trying to stay optimistic on that front. I am down to my last $250. I apply for every new job every day on Indeed that I am qualified for, and in the meantime am trying to enjoy the blessing of the free time that I have to spend with my kids and finish my packing/moving. I was looking at a few houses to rent, but that was based on the presupposition that I was getting the job that I interviewed for. Sadly (or not?), that expectation was not met.
That job didn't really sound awesome, though. In truth, I was a bit frightened by the workload and frantic pace that the interviewer described to me. I'm sure it's best that it didn't work out. My resume is out for one through Employment Group which sounds really perfect. It's a small company that does telephone and internet. It's a customer service position. Dude, I can totally knock their socks off in that position! No customer service situation can intimidate me after working in retention.
I just spent an entire week with Joth, and it was completely wonderful. I was really worried about it. I thought that I would end up driving him crazy. To my delighted surprise, things turned out to be pretty much the opposite of what I feared they would be. We did still have a few issues, just like always. The difference, though, was that we worked through them and emerged on the other side closer. Also, we sang some songs together and sounded absolutely freaking AMAZING, then afterwards he ended up holding my hair but not in the way that I had imagined -- clenched in his fist as, swept up in the throes of animalistic passion, we rode the wave of pleasure until it crested in an electric crescendo of shuddering release. No. It wasn't like that at all. It was me, on my knees in front of the toilet, puking my guts out.
To me, though, that is every bit as much love as the aforementioned scenario. It is tender nurturing compassion. He wasn't even mad that I was too sick to have sex. His love for me is so pure. I often wish that I could come from that genuine authentic place of untainted love that he does. By the time my love comes out of me, it's been distorted by fear and worry, shaded by paranoia, twisted by insecurity, and filtered by my past. There's no excuse for it, there really isn't. I really thought that there would be a point that I could push him to that he would leave. Everyone has one. Then, his leaving could confirm my idea that I am unlovable. That's the sick part about expectation. We DO create what we fear. We see only that which supports our beliefs, be they good or bad. But, I had a sad epiphany last weekend.
We sat on the couch after having some type of argument, I don't even remember what it was about. He told me that he was imagining 33 more years of this, and what that would do to a person. Huh? It suddenly dawned on me that he really, truly intends to stay with me no matter what. No matter how awful I am, no matter how much we fight. Whether in suffering or in joy, he will be there. So why, then, would I punish him for that? If I love him (and I do), then what exactly is the purpose in making things harder than they need to be? I argue that it isn't what I would choose, and to that I would definitely say that's right. But at some point, my love has to become bigger than my fear. My present needs to be more important than my past.
I can't change what happened to me before, but I get to decide whether that makes me a victim or a survivor. I am free to choose either, but who really suffers if I choose to remain a victim? Not the perpetrators of this pain. I am getting no revenge on them by inflicting the same pain on others. In fact, if anything, I'm justifying my behaviors which thereby excuses theirs, because if it's okay for me then it must have been okay for them. If I can't help it, neither could they. If my current partner deserves it, then so did I. Isn't it time to choose happiness?
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