Like the cat says, I need to think.
Diet/weight loss. All of these pieces feel like they carry the weight of a year’s worth of focus and devotion. That they deserve that much of my attention – I should apply each one as a diadem on my forehead and march about, tattooed and slavishly attempting to make my resolution fall within its boundary. They are all interconnected. Each issue joins arms and leans on the others to make the walls of my Fortress of Lady Solitude, one so tall and so precariously built that no King Kong and no gallant have ever dared to scale them. But the concepts and ideas I’ve used to motivate myself towards weight loss have never worked and for the first time, I’m starting to allow myself to recognize the serious implications that will arise if I don’t change my ways. It’s a real Scrooge getting the three spirits situation. Or it’s not, but eventually, that’s what it will come to. My body is just wildly unhappy right now, even as my mind hushes and shushes it. Things aren’t fitting as well or at all from top to bottom on me, things like my feet feel weird from time to time, I find myself avoiding standing upright for long periods and find I really have rare reason to. That’s all insane and unpleasing and a bad path to be marching so gaily down. Plus, it aggravates my brain’s power to be reasonable which I need nowadays. I need badly to fight my daily fight with my own stupid anxieties and illogical insistences (not a word, but might be.) AND you can do OKCupid until you’re blue in the face (or green as my case may be) but if you feel shitty and shifty and untouchable, well, the rare soul who turns up with something that isn’t asinine to say to you, all he’ll find is those same glacial walls.
I don’t want to be pickaxed open. I want to lower the drawbridge, send down the braid of hair, run out of the castle and start looking myself.
This means that things I don’t want to do with daily exercise are going to be of equal importance to doing this page. Every single day. 10 minutes of real physical activity and 10 situps to cap it off. Every day for a whole year. More being better, more will be done, but the line has been burnt into the sand before you. There will also be as much food tracking as can possibly done. Imperfect tracking is better than zero tracking. These are the tactics that will change my life and haven’t been done in the past for just this reason. I will have a body that is different to this one. One that will register differently with people and that has frightened me into submission before. But that is what is new about 2016, I know what I will suffer to get hands laid on me, to get eyes in my head, to get another’s words breathed into my neck and it’s a hell I don’t mind.