Well. Today started off decent enough. I ended up cuddling with T on the couch, after he came home and before we went to church. For some of my own reasons that I won’t express here, I just had to come home and cuddle up to him again for a while. It ended…interestingly to say the least (where is all this *energy* coming from? Must be that prayer that got answered the other day @_@). Sizzle sizzle. Then we went and did the Penny Savers—I say we because again we used the car to do it. Then dropped D off at youth group, and dropped a good chunk of change at WalMart. Getting P to bed wasn’t fun—I’ve been getting him to bed real late lately, and today was one of the earliest in a while. But man was he tired, despite a nap while we were out. Must be all his late nights.
While Friday I managed to get this house looking decently, and while I vacuumed today, it still looks rather horrendous. Don’t ask what’s on my floor. I won’t tell you (though the list really isn’t all that different from Thursday).
I was actually starting to feel better by the time we got done with the PS’s today. I’m not sure what it is…P’s ill mood at bedtime, my body doing all it’s garbage…
I have to tell you something. I’m a food addict. It’s the only way I can describe myself. I love salads and water and milk and vegetables and fruit and chicken and all that….but I will gorge myself on all the bad stuff too. I’m not as big as a house, and if you have been around here much at all, you will know that I am going to Weight Watchers. I’m not even as big as my mom was at her largest point. But I’m very dissatisfied. Lotus named her fat rolls—I can assure you, mine are much bigger. And instead of personifying mine, I’ve just named them what they are—what they are made of. I won’t scare you with photos (no offense Lotus), but behind me are always Bread and Fried Food, and around my middle is Cheese (T was nice enough to point that out…not in a mean way mind you, just…).
I don’t know why it is I’m telling you all this. Maybe I just needed the catharsis of getting it all out in black and white. I know tonight it’s a big part of how dang horrible I feel. I think about it sometimes, and realize I really have a problem. I know what I should/shouldn’t do, but then I go and misstep horribly, and don’t really think about it until after. The problem with a food addiction is that I can’t give up food. A person HAS to eat to survive. You can last without food for a long time, but even doing that is a bad thing in many circumstances—how is it that fasting can be good, but that taking it to extremes is bad? I think that’s more our culture, and the connotations put on someone before they decide to do that drastic fasting.
But you know, it’s not like I’ve always been this big. I was once able to JOIN THE ARMY—I couldn’t do it on weight, sure, because I’ve NEVER BEEN SKINNY BY ANY STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION, but I was certainly acceptable. And at 19 in good enough physical condition to be able to handle that rigorous environment. And it’s certainly not as if I don’t like exercise—I actually DO like to go out and take a walk (notice I said GO OUT. I’m not a big fan of walking inside my own home, though I do own a treadmill). I had a paper route when I was in high school, which meant walking 6 days a week, and I’d bike often, I even started running on a fairly regular basis once I knew I was going to start working towards getting in the military (I was originally going to go into the Navy, like my dad and his dad before him, but a friend of mine introduced me to the Army recruiters in the area, and I found out I could get in there by body fat percentage). Before I went in the Army and even for a little bit after we moved to town here, I went to a local gym regularly too (more so before the Army than after we moved—though, oddly enough, we lived across the street then. I’m pretty sure I still owe him some money :-|).
In some of my low points, or times when I read the whole “carpe diem and leave the rest to fate” point of view, I contemplate giving up trying to lose the weight, and figure that since I can’t take thin with me to heaven, I might as well stop trying to achieve what might very well be, for me, the impossible.
But then I think…with all the family history behind me, losing the weight might be the only thing to keep it all at bay. My dad and his dad have heart problems (my grandfather had 4 heart attacks before I had D. And he’s still alive and kicking). There’s diabetes (both sides—my dad and his dad, and my mom, and my SISTER, who is 5 years younger than me and already diagnosed), high blood pressure, kidney stones (something my sister is also already afflicted with), migraines, there’s even some cancer. Mental illness too, but if I were going to have that, I’d already have it if YKWIM. And maybe, just maybe, it will help me live life to the fullest, live my life as God wants. Because when I pray, it’s one thing I pray about. One of many.
I’m really starting to wonder if drinking coffee again was such a good idea. I’m feeling the same way I did back when I quit drinking it the first time. Which probably means I should quit drinking it now. Because the fatigue is always associated with my period. And I like tea. A lot. As long as P doesn’t get ahold of them and take them apart. 😐 He just takes the tea bag out of the wrapper. Yeah, as much as I like coffee, I think this is the end. Why do I always decide that when I have new bottles of coffee creamer in my fridge? 😐 At least I can take the one back, as it’s actually unopened. If no one wants them, at places I can get rid of them at, that is.