June 1, 2016

I am tired of being brave

A few years ago, as I got ready to wrap things up and leave California for good, I found a poem that I immediately loved. It was about the death of a loved one, but I understood the grief very intensely at that point in my life. At the end of the first stanza, the narrator says "It is June, / I am tired of being brave." I felt that. And I still do.

May was a hard month for me. I started at 304, got as low as 302 and as high as 309, and really just hovered around the silly decade for weeks and weeks.

The last few weeks have been very high and low. Good workouts, some great meals. Then days spent in bed, and binges. Lots of sweat, lots of tears. My semester ended, we had difficult company, lots of personal stuff. Just very hard and emotionally very heavy.

Sometimes, I get tired of being brave.

I'm hopeful about June, and trying to do my best. This should be it - the divorce, cross your fingers, should be done this month (as long as there's no more feet-dragging from my husband). But it is unlikely that he will have to come back to South Carolina for it, so that's a big relief. No more visitors for a while - that should help me get back to a good place mentally. Also, I start teaching a summer class on Monday - a little extra money, and something to keep me busy. I'll work in the office in the mornings, teach for a few hours, have an office hour after, then hit the gym before getting Noah at daycare. It will be nice to be busy-ish ... not as much as during the school year, but not a completely blank daily schedule either.

My goals for June are simple, but effective:


Staying off the scale is a big one. I want to just make good choices and not focus on this one measure of progress. I felt great about what I was doing, how well I was eating, etc., until I got caught up on the scale not moving for days at a time. I saw 302 about a week ago, my lowest in a year or so, and then struggled to move through a weird mental plateau. I don't know why I can't push past that barrier into the 200s. Maybe just fear of history repeating itself, and thinking it's easier to be unhappy and fat than have to experience all the emotional and physical changes that come with getting down to my healthiest size.

Going to bed early and drinking only water are also seemingly little things that make a huge impact. We had diet soda in the house from when we had company in early May, and I drank some in the last few weeks - it always throws me off. Just water, and more sleep. I need both.

And writing in a paper journal - I don't blog nearly as much as I used to, mostly because I feel like my day-to-day is so boring. There are very few breakthroughs or major non-scale victories like there were the first time. Almost the only things on my mind these days are body image issues, depression about my failed marriage, wanting to be the best mother I can be and feeling like I am constantly falling short, and at some times, crippling loneliness. It doesn't always feel right to share here, but I need to clear my head of the thoughts so they don't swallow me whole. So I've got a notebook and some nice pens, and hopefully that helps me process what I'm going through - instead of binge eating to try and numb the feelings.

It's not the June 1st report I wanted to give, but it's not a complete relapse, either. It's a new page on the calendar, a little fresh start. I'm ready to give it everything I have.