Tag Archives: weight loss

Making Peace With my Scale

I’m glad I don’t write here everyday as I used to when I was in the throes of agony over my ex’s cheating. I’m glad that my life truly has settled down. I am happy to write when I have something to say or get off my chest.

I’ve continued to weigh nearly every day and this morning I was almost exactly what I weighed when I started. It’s been interesting for me to simply have the courage to weigh each morning and watch my weight fluctuate by almost five pounds from day to day. I guess you could say I’m making peace with my scale.

But I’m not making peace with my weight. I just know I have to come at this from a this is forever state of mind. I’m tired of gaining and losing, gaining and losing.

I turned sixty at the end of last month. Me, 60. It’s mind boggling because I feel like I have always felt. But I simply don’t want to court ill health by being so overweight. That’s the bottom line. And I’ve been quite lucky so far. (Knock wood).

But there’s more. My weight tells people, whether it’s true or not, that I have no self control. My weight tells me that I don’t consider myself worthy of having a partner because, after all, who would want me like this?

I don’t really believe in “fat acceptance” but I do believe in loving yourself where you’re at in your journey, no matter what. I do not think, however, that this world would be a better place if we all keep getting fatter and fatter and fatter.

At my age, I’m not concerned with things that concerned me twenty or thirty years ago. I’m not obsessed with looking young but when I really applied myself (after the discard) by swimming nearly every day and eating small meals I felt so damned good physically. My butt fit in my chair better. I could easily cross my legs. I didn’t worry about being the fat one on the plane. I enjoyed how my body felt and the energy and strength I had. I’d like to get a little of that back.

I don’t care how long it takes me as long as I see progress. In fact I think it may be good for me to purposely lose weight slowly.

Yesterday I decided two things, a.) I want to buy a juicer, and b.) I want to buy a treadmill.

I gave a decent juicer to my daughter before one of my many “moves” to England and I’ve missed it. I tend not to eat much fruit and veg unless they are juiced. I’m pretty savvy about making them healthy and not overly sweet.

So last night I spent three + hours researching juicers and settled upon this one, the Omega J8007S. It’s quite a step up from what I had before, but still not a top of the line juicer. It cost me $240 which is an enormous investment in my health.

My project for the weekend will be to buy a treadmill. I’m a good walker, but I don’t enjoy walking in my neighborhood. I feel too cold, too hot, too embarrassed at who might see me, too alone. I don’t walk as far as I’d like because I just want it to be over. But I’ve had success with a treadmill before, and want to give that a go. And I like knowing I can do it whenever I want to do it.

I’ve also recommitted to vegetarianism. I was a vegetarian for over 20 years when I met the ex, a meat eating Iranian. It took a while, but eventually he seduced me with barbecued shrimp and Persian style chicken kebabs. Since then I’ve eaten bacon and now and then some fish, but I don’t feel good about any of it.

I don’t enjoy eating it much, I never have, even as a kid. Also, I am seriously sensitive to the pain and suffering of animals. I can’t eat any meat without thinking of the life and death of the animal. I’m so relieved to eat the way I want to eat and will not compromise again.

So I feel optimistic that I can embark on this journey of health. With any luck I can work into my seventies and keep being independent. Yes, I should have acted before now, but I’ve been busy regaining my sanity.

Thanks for reading.

xox

 

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Weight is a Tricky Thing Indeed

I made brownies on Father’s Day for dad and ate a lot of them and am not losing weight. In the past I’d give up, shove the scale aside and binge for months until I decided to tackle my weight again.

Not now. I’m still getting up and weighing every day. I don’t want to have my head in the sand. I don’t want to pretend I don’t weigh 252 pounds.

I spend most nights alone, although I do spend several early evenings a week at my folk’s house having dinner and maybe watching Antiques Roadshow, so I have really been aware lately that the way I eat is similar to the way an alcoholic drinks. Without control. Helpless to it. Ashamed.

When I was in my early twenties, and not even overweight but thought I was, I went to an Overeater’s Anonymous meeting in Newport Beach, California. I was preyed upon by an older man who went to those meetings for one purpose: to pick up young women with self esteem issues. I later found out he just went from one newbie to another. How despicable.

So I don’t recall much about it, although I am familiar with the 12 Steps. I may look into it again — I haven’t decided. But I do feel that my “habit” is out of my control and has always been out of my control.

I feel my attempts to eat healthier foods is fairly successful, though — my primary issue is the between meal snacks. But hey, this is a small victory.

I looked at that scale this morning and thought I could be happy if, very slowly, I could get ten pounds off and then maintain it. My biggest fear is losing all the weight (haha) and then gaining it all back.

When I lost 70 pounds after the ex dumped me I read all I could on ways to keep it off because I knew it would be very difficult. Over and over again I read that the only way to (most likely) keep it off is with bariatric surgery and I do not want to go there.

My sister had that surgery over ten years ago, and she’s emaciated, malnourished, lost her teeth and much of her hair. I would not like her health, appearance, and quality of life, but to her, it is worth being skinny.

Speaking of The Sister, she never got back to me about getting together for Father’s Day. She wished him a happy father’s day on FB and never called him. I’m in such shock over that. This is the first Father’s Day she’s had in Oregon and she couldn’t even be bothered to call her father, let alone visit him. He’s 82 with COPD — I wonder how many more Father’s Days he has.

I said to him, “Dad, I’m mystified by her behavior, but there’s no excuse for her not calling you.” He agreed which was amazing because he’s usually so understanding. That’s sort of what made this worse — he’s the one who always reaches out to her. He’s the one she should reach out to.

I don’t know what to do about my sister so for now I’m doing nothing. But last year she dominated my Fall and Winter and I won’t let that happen again. Last year we “must” come to her house for her birthday slash Labor Day. And we “must” come to her house for Thanksgiving. And we “must” come to her house for Christmas.

So I did, but hated every minute of it. I went out of guilt and suffered through her children. By the time New Years came I realized she didn’t give a shit if I was there or not! What a relief! I won’t be missed if I decline her invitation!

Mom, dad, and I really don’t know if she’s pissed off, oblivious, too burdened with her own problems, or what, and nobody has the nerve to ask her what the heck is going on. I wish I had the nerve to say, “What they hell? You didn’t call dad on Father’s Day!” But my family just doesn’t do confrontation — we just wonder what’s gone wrong and never know the truth.

So my goal this Fall and Winter will be to learn how to handle the guilt for not going. I feel more sorry for my mother, who hates being over there, but as a grandparent feels she has to.

This is just incredibly sad because my sister did say to me she wanted to be here in Oregon because dad’s health was so bad. But I have been reminded that I have never really known my sister and never been close to her.

I wish there were a way to deal with my ACES (Adverse Childhood Experiences) so that I could easily get to the reason I overeat. I don’t have the money for therapy, and I don’t know that it would work anyway. Maybe I should put it into God’s hands, but that’s a conversation for another day. I haven’t been to church in nearly two months and it’s making me sad.

I welcome input about weight loss, but I am not interested in Weight Watchers.

xox

TGIF

The scale read 248.6 this morning and I thought, ‘my gosh this weight loss thing is easy’ but then I remembered WATER WEIGHT. Oh well, at least it got me into the 40s.

For a long time now I’ve been eating a ton at night, so that’s when things are the hardest for me. But right now, with just a middling effort I will probably lose weight simply because my body is used to so, so many extra calories.

It’s only been a few days but already I feel more energized and that I’m sleeping better. I woke with my alarm this morning which I never do. I’m trying to spend a couple of hours puttering around the house before I settle into to Midsomer Murders (Netflix) and that feels good too. I forget that we work nine hours and sleep 8 hours, but that does leave some time for things other than watching TV.

And I’ve started the habit of coming home on Friday and doing chores and laundry to get a jump start on the weekend. That way I don’t feel like I’m spending half of Saturday doing that. Of course I’ll probably do the yard work tomorrow, but that’s okay — it’s EXERCISE.

I discovered well after I moved in here that my walls are plaster, not drywall. I love the look of them, but I’m having a hard time hanging heavier things — I’m fearful it’ll just fall off the wall and take the plaster with it. I’ve watched a lot of youtube vids, but still feel timid. This is a time I wish I had a man in my life. But not all men know how to do stuff like that — my recent ex would not have known.

My father says, “I can help! I’m not crippled.” But he is awfully frail. I have a shelf I assembled from Ikea that I just don’t know how to get up. I feel sort of ridiculous about that.

Speaking of dad, this Sunday is Father’s Day. I’ve been acutely aware the last couple of years that every birthday, Christmas, Father’s Day, could be his last. I don’t want him to go anywhere not only because I love him and will miss him, but also because that will leave me with my mom.

My sister moved to town about a year ago. It took her several years of planning because she had to bring her other adult children with her — she has a grandchild she did not want to leave behind in Louisiana. We were never close as kids but I really did look forward to her coming here and doing things with her now and then.

Well, that’s not happening, not even a little. Last November we planned to meet at a holiday fair and I got there and texted her and started walking around. About thirty minutes later I ran into her, her daughter, and grandchild and my sister hits her daughter on the arm and declares, “I told you to remind me!”

So I was a complete and utter afterthought for her. She basically forgot she was meeting me. I can’t fathom such behavior. We are nothing alike.

I bring her up because I had at least hoped that she’d spend some time with our folks so that I don’t have to feel so guilty when I’m not over there. But no, she really can’t be bothered to do that either, and she rarely calls them. She is simply consumed with her five kids and all their drama. Outsiders can’t compete.

And my parents are pretty confused about how to deal with her and her brood. Her offspring are adults and they are jobless potheads (okay, one is on methadone), they smell, they are overly opinionated, they feel like utter strangers, and we don’t know how to deal with family get togethers.

When they come to my parent’s house, it’s awkward. When my parents offer to take them out they feel embarrassed by their appearance, smell, and behavior. I feel guilty that I don’t really want to get to know them. I can’t tell my sister that her kids are strangers to me and I don’t really care for them. I really don’t know how to handle it.

But my mom really hates them. She makes an ugly face when she talks about them. I really hate hearing her speak that way about her own grandchildren. It’s awful. So I’m sort of curious about how her opinions on my sister and her family change or don’t change when she becomes a widow.

At least I’m assuming dad will go first. It’s a miracle that a man who has smoked since he was 12 is still alive at 82. He’ll be 83 next month. Mom’s health isn’t bad, and she’s 80.

When I first moved to my place this winter I asked my sister to come over several times. She didn’t respond or didn’t feel well. I finally stopped asking her because I was beginning to feel embarrassed about it. I really feel she just doesn’t need anyone in her life. It’s not that she is envious that I have a house and she doesn’t — It’s that she just doesn’t care about anyone but herself and her kids and grandkids.

But I’m oversimplifying the situation. She does have bad health. She does have her hands full with her kids. I would not trade places with her for anything. I never should have thought we could be close since we never have been. I tell my parents that it’s not like I lost anything because she’s never been a part of my life. But I’ll admit to you that I’m disappointed. I really thought I’d have an adult friend to do something with on a Friday night.

No need to feel bad for me. I’m on my second load of laundry and I’m about to vacuum. I know how to have a good time on Friday night!

xox

Any advice on what you do when faced with relatives you don’t really want to spend time with?

 

252

This morning I stepped on to my new scale, naked and with an empty bladder and the result was 252 exactly. So, now I know what I’m up against and it’s the official number I will start with.

Right now, the main thing I am trying to do is a.) not gain, and b.) add healthy food to my diet. For now I’m going to weigh daily — if I don’t do that on the day that I skip it, I’ll throw it all alway and not step on that scale again. I know myself pretty well.

I came straight home from work today. I don’t always do that because I often stop at my parent’s house to eat with them or just hang out for a bit. Coming straight home is nice. I am still not quite used to the feeling that this place is all mine. I even like its messes. I have all the windows open now to air out the place. Today I walked in and said, “Honey, I’m home” to no one.

I’ve considered a pet. I’d really like a dog. But I’m just not sure I can afford one. Also being gone for nine+ hours a day isn’t fair to a dog. I like cats, but they’ve damaged my homes in the past so I’m probably not going to go that route.

I didn’t move into my house until after Christmas. It was a very long search for a home that I could afford and could imagine living in. I’m still not sure I can afford it, to be honest. And I don’t have window coverings on two windows still. I’ve got a little bit of savings, but I’m afraid to let it go too low. I’ve got no one to rely on if I have an emergency. Plumbing or a roof issue, for example. Oh, I’m a two minute drive to my parent’s house and a 9 minute drive to work, which I also love.

As a natural born worrier I could spend a lot of time worrying about the what if’s, but to be honest I enjoy being here so much that I don’t fret about it too long. This place is mine — it’s not his. Very little of what I own now reminds me of him.

When I began to unpack all of my belongings after 3+ years in storage I found myself cursing the ex because he packed all the boxes for me — he would not let me back into our apartment since it was already his love nest. I had to trust he’d give me things I’ve had long, long before I ever met him. I have found that two kitchen knives I’ve had for 15 years never made it to me, and the toolbox he packed for me was nearly empty. That made me pissed because my dad had given me a lot of what was in there. The list is long, and that’s only the stuff I can remember.

I was feeling super pissed about all the stuff I now knew was missing. Eventually I had to remind myself that I wouldn’t want that stuff now that it’s been part of their household for so long. One of the last emails I sent to him was expressing my anger about what I was missing. He wrote back asking me another question, not addressing my concern. I never responded to him again. Fuck them both. I’ve since blocked his phone number so that he can’t message or call me.

My heart is broken again today. As a lover of all things British I saw late last night how a 24 story apartment building in West London with over 300 residents was consumed by flames within fifteen minutes. Women were throwing their babies out the windows. The fire started on the lower floors. The people in upper floors couldn’t get out. People on the grass below heard their screams. Of course it is because it was a low income building. No one cared that it wasn’t a safe building. They have no idea how many are dead, but it will be a lot. Why, God? Why?

Londoners came out to help house and feed the survivors. Londoners are great at that. But this is so horrifying — I simply can’t imagine experiencing that. What good are “thoughts and prayers” anyway?

xox

 

It’s that Oversensitivity Thing Again

I’ve been eating well since Monday, just five days. Instantly I was aware of certain things.

I’m up three or four times in the night to pee even though I don’t think I’m drinking any more water than I did before. I guess that’s some sort of system flush, so to speak.

I’m very headachy. That could be from it being the peak of allergy season but it could also be from going from a ton of sugar to no sugar. Sort of a detox, if you will.

I’m raw, anxious, and feeling the feels, as they say. In other words I am sober. I am not eating my weight in simple carbs to numb myself and have to say that I don’t like how I’m feeling.

But I can’t stop. I just can’t. I have to keep on.

I pass by a mirror and am mortified by what I see and I’m ashamed. Funny how you can choose to not see for so long.

In the last two or three weeks a young co-worker of mine has been teasing me about forgetting stuff and doing it in a pretty painful way. I resolved to talk to her about it when she was feeling better. (She had been ill this last week). But today she did it again and I reacted before I could stop myself. Now I’m hating myself for what I said, even though what I said wasn’t that bad.

I hate that when I speak up for myself I feel horrible for hurting someone. Yes I could have said it more calmly and I certainly wish I had, but what I said was still true. “You’re hurting me with all your criticisms.”

Now I can tell she’s pissed and not going to speak to me. That’s fine, but I feel like an idiot that I didn’t get to have that calm conversation with her, rather than lashing out. I truly feel like an idiot. And I feel she’ll tattle to our supervisor who is also her bff.

Three days ago she hurt me and I went in to the doctor I work for and told her. She told me she thought this young woman was blunt and judgmental and encouraged me to have a sit down with her about how her criticisms are making me feel bad. But alas, I spoke without thinking today.

And in my fucked up ALL OR NOTHING mind, I imagine being fired, being hated, losing my shit.

SHUT THE FUCK UP! Calm the fuck down, ffs!

She’s been a bit of a bully with me. She’s been insensitive. She’s teased me past the point of good taste. I don’t know why she’s doing it, but it was making me so anxious. It was making me fearful of making a mistake in front of her. She’s made comments about my memory. She’s only 26 so she doesn’t realize how horrifying it might be to an almost 59 year old that her memory is shit.

So yes, I blew it, and wish I had behaved differently. But for God’s sake, I need to forgive myself for it! This behavior of mine is so deep. I wonder how I became this way. Don’t answer that. I was never allowed to express myself or have an opinion and when I did express it, I was always wrong, wrong, wrong. Thanks, mom.

This co-worker was starting this up before I started reducing my calories and I don’t know what brought it on. Can it be that she really is kidding? That she really does think it’s funny to tease an older woman about her memory?

When I put it that way I understand that this is not all my doing. But fuck I wish I could have handled it differently.

I felt terrible about it all day. We were so busy there was no way we could chat quietly about it. I texted her after work and she was dismissive about it and didn’t want to talk about it. I apologized to her for lashing out when I could have calmly told her that she is hurting my feelings.

“Hurting my feelings” sounds so fucking juvenile! She probably thinks I’m such a freak for taking it too hard. Am I simply being over sensitive? Am I just supposed to laugh and shrug off everything she says? Is it possible that someone’s told her before that she’s a bit of a mean girl?

But then I was mean when I spoke to her. Sigh.

I am so sad that the person I am emotionally is only 12 years old, at best. I am so sad that I fear I will never know what it’s like to be a mature woman in my behavior.

But, in spite of feeling really shitty that I hurt someone’s feelings, I didn’t go off and eat a bunch of shit. So there’s that to be thankful for.

On a parting note, the doctor I work for did a talk on ACEs which are Adverse Childhood Experiences. You can find copious amounts of material about it online, but the bottom line is, the more ACEs you have, the more you are likely to have mental illness, be fat, be an alcoholic, a drug addict, get cancer and autoimmune diseases, die young, and a million other things. ACEs put you in a higher risk for everything that’s bad.

When I think of my childhood I don’t know how I’ve come through it as well as I have. By all accounts I should be dead. So the fact that I sit here sober (although fat), employed — well, I count myself lucky.

My brain is not like a person’s brain who has had a good childhood — and the memory most definitely can be affected. As I listened to her talk I thought Oh My God, is there any hope for me?

But we talked about it later and this is why it’s important for me to paint, play my music loud, swim, cook, nest in my home, create a beautiful garden — those are the things that can bring healing.

What things do you do that make you feel that a small part of you is healing from the action?

I have to admit, I prefer the roller coaster over the merry-go-round:

The Part Where I Attempt to Take Care of Myself (Again)

While it may be boring to everyone but me, I am once again embarking on a health kick.

I’ve gained all the weight my body will allow. I have a knee that just can’t take any more. When my weight’s lower, it hardly bugs me at all.

I actually began the healthy eating part yesterday but didn’t weigh myself until this morning. I know most people would be devastated to weigh 249 pounds, I was only relieved I hadn’t gained back every pound I had lost after the cheater discarded me. I was up to 270+ at that time. So, hey, it’s all relative, right?

I also know that it took a great deal of effort for me to get to 199 pounds and I stayed at that weight for about a day and a half. I’m 5′ 8″ and I was wearing normal sized clothing at that weight, of course I was swimming a lot, too, so that no doubt made a difference in how I looked. My point is that my goal is to get back to 199. That’s it. Any more than that will be icing on the cake, so to speak.

I plan to get more active but right now I’m focusing on the eating. Part of the reason for not doing everything at once is my knee hurts too much!

I was considering gastric bypass surgery recently and was reminded that before they perform that surgery they put you on a super diet to make you lose 25 or 30 pounds first. It reminded me that if I can lose weight without putting my body through surgery, I need to do it.

As I was losing the 70ish pounds I lost two years ago I knew all along that keeping it off would be nearly impossible. Every article I came across said virtually the only way to not gain weight back is to have gastric bypass. Otherwise the fat wants to come back and it does come back.

What I have to face if I can is that to keep it off I will need to eat less calories than other people who maintain. That’s just a fact. The metabolism is effed up or something. But to keep it off I will have to diet forever.

The odds of me succeeding at that are pretty much impossible, so I’ve decided that I’ll do my very best and I’ll add important lifestyle changes that might have a more lasting impact.

So yesterday and today I came home and made a homemade soup that was nutritious and super delicious.

I start by sautéing some cubed firm tofu in olive oil in a nonstick pan until it’s golden brown and meanwhile, in the soup pan I sauté a sliced leek, a handful of sliced mushrooms, fresh asparagus, and at the end, some spinach. Then I throw the tofu in and add hot water. For seasoning I added some light soy sauce, a few drops of sesame oil, a small squirt of Siracha sauce, and some salt and pepper. I let it simmer for about five minutes, until the asparagus seemed cooked, and then chowed down.

I’ve eaten that yesterday for dinner and today for lunch. Then a new batch tonight which I’ll finish tomorrow. It’s a bit hot these days for soups, but it’s all I can consider right now. I think it would be really good with a few shrimps or a handful of crabmeat.

Right now I’m weaning my poor body off the junk food I eat around here. My stomach is intermittently rebelling and I’m making trips to the bathroom. That always happens to me when I change my diet. It’ll stop eventually.

I’m working every day on getting better sleep. I’m often in bed before it’s pitch black out, but I still don’t get great sleep. Sleeping in a small day bed where I can’t stretch out has been problematic for me.

I’ve made a concerted effort to wash my face every night rather than use those makeup remover sheets. It’s a nice routine and makes me feel ready for bed. I did some research on those electric face brushes — hah, I can’t think of what they’re called. They have batteries and a fine brush which rotates and cleans your pores. I bought one from Korea that is said to be the most gentle so I’m excited to try that when it arrives.

I went to World Market on my lunch hour yesterday and bought three decorative pillows for my non existent couch. They were on sale and I got all three for $20. It was good to get out of the office and nice to do something other than hunt for vintage goods. To be honest I don’t need more kitchenalia! (Well, I need a new rice cooker, a new electric kettle, but I’ll buy those new). What I will need are practical things like a hose, a rake, a weed wackier, a toilet plunger, cleaning supplies, paper goods well, you get the picture. I need to save for practical things.

The most recent three day weekend reminded me that I have no fucking life at all and it depressed me. When I have a home to care for and a dog to walk, I will be too worn out to care about my lack of social life, at least for a while, while it’s new to me.

I am hoping that the house/dog thing will be the major lifestyle change I need to help me keep weight off.

My new position starts in one month and slightly increased pay with it and that’s about the time I will be able to start officially looking for a home to buy.

Oh, and apparently my sister, two of her children, and one grandchild will be moving here about then as well.

My father asked me if I wanted them to come to my confirmation this Sunday and I was floored. Interesting that it wasn’t my mom. Dad was born Catholic but hasn’t been in a church in many decades. I guess he just though I might like it, so I said, sure, that’d be nice and told them not to feel like they have to do all the standing and kneeling parts.

Interesting times ahead!

 

 

 

 

 

The Week I Didn’t Lose Weight

As I feared, I did not lose weight this week, in fact I weigh four ounces more than last week, which I’m not going to bother to count.

I’m deeply concerned, but not in a panic about my lack of weight loss. It’s clear to me that when I’m mostly depressed I can pretty much control my eating, but when I’m anxious, it’s very difficult.

I’ve been anxious quite a bit in the last couple of weeks and I saw myself doing that nervous-mindless-eating thing, in particular with those hard candies (Nips) with the chocolate center. They have only 30 calories. But they are all sugar. And if you eat ten or twelve of them, well, so much for 30 calories.

I have tried not to eat them this week, and I have failed. If I weren’t living here, I’d throw them away so that the temptation is gone, but my dad likes them. I’m tempted to ask him if we can put them in his room, in fact I think I will do that. He won’t mind.

There are many snacks in this house at all times, and I’ve been pretty good at resisting them or severely limiting them, but since I’ve been nervous I am finding it almost impossible.

I’m considering weighing myself every day this week simply to get back on track and not allow myself to forget how important this is. I’m not even halfway to my goal weight, I can’t stop here. I won’t stop here.

This is not a plateau. This was just mindless nervous eating. If I apply myself, I will continue to lose weight. I really wish it would stop raining. I’d like to get outside to walk or hike.

The good news, I guess, is that I forced myself to swim yesterday even though I felt crummy. I am no worse for wear because of it, and it made me feel better since the pool is closed on Sundays. I did not want to go three days without exercising again.

This week I should be able to exercise on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday, so I will make certain I do.

Today are the Academy Awards and my parents plant to start watching the red carpet stuff in the late afternoon and snacking all day. I’m going to tell them that I have to be careful and excuse myself from that temptation as much as I can.

At the recommendation of a commenter, I tinkered with trying to set up my old website yesterday and just hit huge walls. To my shock, my husband did upload a new WordPress template that I chose and says he’ll begin to work on it for me. He obviously isn’t under any obligation to do this for me, but it’s the decent thing to do considering I still pay for his cell phone bill. I’m looking at it as an exchange.

It won’t require that many hours of his time. I’m pretty competent at running the website after it’s prettied up.

So I’ve got that to look forward to. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I can hardly have my children/family website affiliated with the raw me, the one with emotional problems.

Even though it requires me to spend far too much time sitting at a computer, the website helps me feel like I’ve accomplished something and I’m really proud of it. (If you’re new to the blog, I ran this site before, took it off the internet, and when I went to put it back on, I lost all of the hundreds of articles I had written, so I have to start from scratch.)

I did look into those standing desks and would really like to try one, but they aren’t suited, I’ve discovered, for laptop users. They are better if your monitor and keyboard are separate otherwise you can end up bending over to see properly. I won’t rule it out, however.

I just told my parents that for the first time since October I did not lose weight and told them it was because I was anxious. I asked dad if I could put the Nips in his room and he said of course. So I should be back on track now that I have “witnesses” to my purpose.

My mother, however, began to talk about meals and recipes and I had to cut her off and tell her I simply can’t think about food that much. It’s unpleasant for me and has the opposite unintended effect. She talked about buying a healthier wheat bread and I told her that, as I don’t eat much bread, I prefer it to be the one I love the most, a wheat sourdough. I don’t want to eat something simply because it’s a better version. I want to love it, but limit the quantity.

Now she’s overwhelming me with ideas of what to have tonight even though I keep telling her to do whatever she likes, that I will take what I want from it, but she doesn’t get that. SHE HAS TO OVER THINK EVERYTHING.

My parents left and I got up to put the Nips in Dad’s room and he had already done it, bless his heart. My mom wants to help in her own way, too, she’s just a bit clueless. Her heart is in the right place, however.

I think I have begun this week, just barely begun, to realize that I am separating emotionally from my husband. It’s a natural process, an organic one that can’t be forced or rushed. I no longer long for his messages or calls and I no longer care to be in his company. I seem to have accepted that it is truly over. I’m so grateful to be allowed some relief from the sadness, grief, resentment, humiliation, etc. that contact with him provides. There’s an emptiness that makes me uncomfortable, but I’m glad that most of my unhappiness hasn’t been replaced with bitterness and anger, at least not too much. I am not saying it will be easy from here on out. It’s unlikely that will be the case, but my healing seems to have begun.

I’m realistically optimistic in fact I “feel like a room without a roof.”

If you need a smile today, try this:

Sunday Stats
Starting weight: 267 (mid October 2013)
Today’s weight: 216
Total weight loss to date: 51 pounds
Height: 5’8″
Goal weight: about 150