It’s already day five of this business. I feel good. Oddly lighter though I am not sure I’ve lost anything. If I have it’s water and while it feels like that should still count, I’m not worrying about the scale yet. Life is too jittery and fluckery right now for me to take a knock of having to acknowledge a weight gain right now. Not that I think there is one, I just know that the scale and the time of month and all sorts of things conspire and suddenly I feel a failure right out of the gate.
I don’t feel like a failure today. I surely have reason to. I’m not doing anything special, not conquering tasks.
I’m just writing because it feels good, drinking some tea and not soda pop and not feeling destroyed about the absence (also heard a pretty compelling story at work about why giving up diet soda would be a good thing for me to do – I’m glad to be five days into that, as well. No desire to start having seizures, all though, admittedly, I’ve never drunk as much in one day as was described). My glasses are kaput. I’m working on getting that set up, but there’s finances to consider as well as the fact that I find the whole thing really onerous. And the last time, I think I kind of upset the opthamologist but that’s a story for another time..
I’m always fighting against the bother of tasks. I find it much easier to skip over the frustration of having not done those tasks, opportunities missed, windows closed because this space is filled up and not fit for sharing. There’s no room for wanderers, for anyone else to mix in their books, their shirts, their sundry thingamajigs. I am more aware now of the void and the necessity. I always thought that it would’t matter if the glass was full, if you just kept pouring into it, you’d lose some of what was and gain some of what is being added. It would mix together. But you forget, when you think of this solely from your own perspective and your own hopes of never having to get off the fence about anything, is that when most people see a full glass, they think you want to drink it. They think there’s no room for more, not without spilling everywhere. They don’t see need and so they don’t see themselves as needed.
I think there’s something to that.
At any rate, I feel oddly light about it all given the grumpiness that starting this diet has incited. Maybe it’s also this worrying about a task at work that went well (you didn’t think I could give up work worries just because I switched to a new job, did you?) and seems to continue to go well which makes everyone happier.
I’m also trying out this whole being good to myself, love affair with yourself. It feels good just to imagine feeling good sometimes. To just get that far.