I had the best time with my daughter. It’s rare that we have a solid 24 hours alone together and I barely gave my husband a thought. We worked on organizing her small spare bedroom so that she can do crafts and homework easier. I hated to leave, but I didn’t want to wear out my welcome, plus she had to get back to work.
I awoke this morning quite blue and feeling crabby at my mother, which shames me. I’m walking around whispering “be patient, be patient, be patient…” but it’s not working very well.
I think it’s because it’s Saturday and I hadn’t really thought about how I would spend my weekend. The damned pool is closed today and tomorrow and I don’t feel like finding another pool.
The one I went to last week is kind of icky. They’ve given up a third of the lap pool for kids and families to play in, which I think is silly because there are three other pools for them. Consequently the pool is filled with bandaids, hair, hair bands, unidentifiable things, and kids playing basketball in the pool and more than once I had to dodge their ball. I was so grossed out the last time that I determined I’d have to be more than desperate to go back there.
I’m irritated that I’m having trouble getting my household possessions out of the apartment we shared. I took him four bins but he hasn’t filled them yet. Plus there’s furniture and I’m not sure where to put it. I don’t need to take absolutely everything that’s mine because it would leave him with very little, but I want to take most of it. I wrote to our landlord (who is also his friend), to say that I was sure he wouldn’t take off without notice, but when he gets the apartment back, if there are possessions in it, they are probably mine and to please contact me. The landlord is very respectable and probably likes my husband but knows he’s intense so he won’t find my request too odd, and he will be discreet.
Shit. I wonder if I’ll regret that move. After all, my husband hasn’t paid him rent in at least four months.
It feels like a violation that he’s looking over my things (perhaps with his girlfriend) deciding what to take. That’s not how it should be. He came to the U.S. with nothing. I was the one who provided the home. Shit. I’m depressed. If there were no possibility of money from him in the future, I’d just call the sherif to meet me there as I load it all up in a Uhaul. But I can’t afford to piss him off.
You can’t imagine how glad I’ll be when the case is behind me, the divorce final, and my possessions back where they belong. That’s when I can tell him to f*ck off and never contact me again. Oh, and I’ll stop paying for his damned cell phone!
I am sad, too, that I don’t think I’ll lose weight this week. I did have Indian food with my daughter but I didn’t think it was very high quality. I ate a few deep fried things and had a little soft serve ice cream afterwards. Funny, if it had been delicious, I would not have felt as bad about eating it!
Losting a pound a week is not very acceptable to me, especially considering I’ve still got about 70 pounds to go. I have to get my act together.
I wonder what really has me feeling so insecure today. I think I will need to shower and go out for a movie. Sitting around here won’t do me any good at all.
I’ve also decided to buy that ACT workbook, so will track down whether it’s sold locally or if I need to buy it online. Ok, I just found it locally and they are holding it for me. Now I have to see if I can afford to buy it.
Perhaps later on I’ll try out that running app I downloaded a while back just to see what it feels like to run for a few minutes. No high expectations there. I have to find something. I don’t want to have to take three days a week off from swimming!
Forget the shower. I’m washing my face, brushing my teeth and getting out of here.
I just remembered.
I was reading a self help book of my daughter’s, Andrew Weil’s “Spontaneous Happiness.” He said something so logical but new to me, he said if you are practicing mindful breathing, you cannot also be freaking out, because the two can’t be done at once. Logical, huh?
I took two long slow deep breaths and my mom walked into the room to tell me something and I looked at her with compassion and turned to face her and give her my attention.
I can beat this.
A Few Hours Later:
Bought The Mindfulness & Acceptance Workbook for Depression by Kirk D. Strosahl and Patricia J . Robinson. The byline is “Using Acceptance & Commitment Therapy to Move Through Depression & Create a Life Worth Living.” The cover says:
A Powerful Step-By-Step Program to Help You:
- Understand depression in a completely new way
- Recognize the depression traps in your life
- Use acceptance to move through painful life situations
- Develop a mindful, values-oriented lifestyle
- Commit to acting in ways that promote vitality, purpose & meaning.
And it comes with a CD with guided imagery and mindfulness exercises. I am excited to begin reading it and learning some new skills. My counselor said she had heard of it but has not studied ACT and she said if it resonates with me then that’s the one for me. She also thought she’d look into it more.
This is the power of the internet. A commenter recommended it to me. I mention it to my counselor. Who knows who she might tell about it or how it might help them or others. It’s a cascade of ACT!
I went to Macy’s to check out some clothes. I’m not joking when I say I have one pair of pants that fit. The sun is out today and I realize I can’t hide under my raincoat much longer.
I did not see one thing at Macy’s that I wanted to buy which I think is due to the fact I don’t find their clothing in the “women’s” department to have much style. So I went to Old Navy and for the first time in years tried on some jeans. I was really nervous because they do carry plus sizes, but only online. In the store they often go up to size 20 so that’s what I grabbed and I went to the changing room.
They were too big so I got the 18. They were too big so I got the 16. Now don’t get excited, they didn’t look good on me; I think I’m odd shaped due to working out and in one style I ended up at a 16 and the other an 18. I went with the 18 in a “rockstar skinny jean” which sounds so too young for me. But the price was right and of the six pairs I tried on they fit the best. All jeans were $19.95. The miracle is that I WAS SHOPPING IN A NON FAT STORE.
I don’t quite get it. I’m completely out of practice with trying things on and sizes. I’m guessing that sizes have gotten bigger since I last tried on a 16 or an 18 in a normal shop. I wonder if I could have gone to Macy’s normal section and looked at their biggest sizes… hmm…..
I weigh around 219 or so, so there’s no way I can claim to look like I’m average weight in my new jeans. I’m really rather baffled because to be frank, I look really bad without clothes still, and I may always. But (and I swear I’m only being honest and not being mean to myself) I am still as puffy and lumpy and bulgy as ever. So all I can conclude is that I must have looked that much worse 50 pounds ago!
This is the kind of motivation I needed to keep on going and lose the rest of the weight. I look bad, and that’s okay. The point is that I feel good and I’m proud of myself, and I will continue on my weight loss and fitness journey.