Whatever It Takes

Grannngrh.

The sound of a woman who just began some sort of odyssey only she doesn’t quite know it yet.  She just knows that today, the mental work she had to do, was rough.  At least, at its root, which is the place she will eventually have to go.

This is day one.   This is sort of my chance to reintroduce myself, my mission (it may seem laughable, but it feels like a mission) and what I’m dealing with.

I began the diet as planned.  There was no reason or happenstance to prevent a good first day.  I had all my food, I had no work to encourage me to stray, no place to go that would remind me, really of what I might be avoiding/missing out on.

First things first, I got on the scale.  175.  175 at one point would have made me pass out, crack my head on the bathtub.  Now, it just s what it is.  It is where we start.  I don’t care if you think 5’1″ and 175 is “fat” or “not fat” or “healthy” or “unhealthy” or whatever semantics for the dieting world feel comfortable for you, because looking at that, for me, for my self-esteem issues and problems emotionally attaching to folks in the outside world, it’s just too much.  As I get older, it’s also just starting to creep up on me how 30-50 extra pounds is going to feel on aging, bones.  The things we get used to, if they’re wrong, eventually, they take their toll.  Usually when we’re too vulnerable and tired and set in our ways to see an easier path.

It’s a good, visceral reminder that I don’t stay steady when I try and eat “when I’m hungry” or “listen to my body’s needs.”  My mind is the one steering the rudder and my mind tells me, yes, Chipotle, Starbucks, Totino’s Pizza, Chocolate Bar, Diet Dr. Pepper in combination will make me full and happy.  Well, not really.  It made me full.  And gave me panic and jittery sensations and left me awake at 3a.m. watching Rifftrax’ Fun in Balloonland and thinking I had actually lost my mind.

Right now, that same mind is telling me it would have been better if I had just saved a little bit of that chocolate bar because today, having suffered such deprivation, I would appreciate it times a thousand.  No.  That’s just sugar addiction trying to pretend it’s not here.   It is.  It is, also, going to get much worse than this.  This makes me nervous.  I know there’s a place beyond this worry, I know this is part of the bargain, it just helps to say it out loud.  So to speak.

I also stomped around for fifteen minutes of actual exercise.  We’ll make sure to match that tomorrow – and I hope – for the next three hundred and sixty-five days.

I am excited to do this, glad.  It just takes a lot of focus to make me realize those are my feelings rather than the constant star of wanting to approach my life through distracted, emotional eating.  Like, a lot.

Tomorrow: possibly buying a new Fitbit like the rest of this disgruntled nation.  It doesn’t feel like a new year, just like we flipped the book over and started writing on the clean pages in the back.

Whatever it takes.

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