Wrenched from sleep at 5 am with a bad stomach. Probably the fault of stress and eating salad fifteen minutes before I went to bed. That’s diet Ginger Ale I’m holding aloft this time.
Yesterday was one of those days. Didn’t sleep well again the night before (damn you, Susan Elizabeth Phillips), got up and worked worked worked, finishing the revisions. Drove 25 miles, went swimming, got dressed and met my son and fiancee and grandson at the doctor’s office. Took grandson with me back home, stopping at the drug store to get his meds (which took forever!). Got home, only to realize I’d spaced my mother’s oxy prescriptions and the health center was about to close (oxys need written prescriptions). Several panicked phone calls (they’d already turned off the phones so I needed to talk to the emergency service), raced the 7 miles back to the health center and drug store, waited around for the drugs, took them back to my mother, found my son had called in misery, talked to him for half an hour making comforting sounds, found my mother hadn’t needed the meds after all (my fault, not hers), went home and fell apart just a wee bit. Remembered “Layla” and dancing in the kitchen and felt better, went to bed at 7:30 but asked Richie to come up and cuddle, which he did, bless him. And tonight even SEP couldn’t compete with how exhausted I was.
I’ve got too much on my plate. I can’t risk screwing up my mother’s meds like that, but I’ve got too damned much going on. I’ve got to figure out how to get help with that, work on detaching with love from my son, since I can’t fix it (did a good job yesterday letting him vent).
And I’ve got a long list of things I have to do, things that are long overdue.
You know what might help? Being able to do a little sewing today. I’m going to have to take a break from keying in revisions (it can get too hard on the eyes). When that happens I should work on projects, just to sort of ground me.
In all, though, I’ve done really well this week, which is usually the week that makes me a basket case. It helped that I got an extra three days on the revisions. I managed to swim three times a week (my current goal) and track my food with varying levels of success. I dealt with huge family stress and came out the other side.
And at no time was I tempted to eat the wrong thing, or eat too much. It wasn’t that I was strong and resisted. I just didn’t want that stuff. (Though I may be eating a little bit too little — what’s a more elegant way to phrase that?). I need to make sure I get my nutrients (hence the salad before going to bed, never a good idea).
I’m really lucky I’m in the zone. As a veteran of losing weight (and other major life changes) I’ve found that once you get into the right sort of head then stuff becomes almost automatic, which is really lovely.
There’s a certain point when things shift. When temptation starts creeping back in, when you need to use more resolve, which is probably why people mostly gain their weight back again, and more. The good thing for me is that in the past ten years, every time I’ve lost weight and regained it I’ve stopped at a lower point than before, rather than a higher point. I’d gone from a resting weight (as opposed to a resting pulse) of 282 to one in the mid 250s. 30 pounds lost in a way that will stay lost.
I’m not sure how I’ll face the challenge of temptation when it comes back to me, but right now I’m cool. I took my grandson through McDonald’s drive-thru for a happy meal (yes, I know, I should encourage him with better food choices but he ended up eating mainly the apples) and wasn’t interested in anything, though I considered getting a DC for a moment. And when did McD’s start having a bakery? Wicked!
But I didn’t even steal one of Alex’s french fries.
So for today I’ll concentrate on having survived the kind of day that makes one curl up with quart of ice cream and a box of cereal (cereal being my comfort food — it helps that I’m lactose-intolerant) and hope that things will get easier.