Guys, it's really difficult to write and do this whole blog thing when I don't actually have a functional computer. Trying to write on my cell phone or tablet is insane. I tried to do a video blog but my phone ran out of space for me to finish so I had to delete a bunch of pictures and by then I was just over it. Not sure what I was thinking when I decided to get back on the weight loss diary wagon without the proper equipment. But what I do know is that this time my weight loss hasn't been coming easy. Working out and eating better haven't been giving me the results I usually get. I even did my beloved military diet with little success. So far, the only thing I've been losing is my patience! I shouldn't be too hard on myself, I have managed to lose a couple of pounds and a couple inches, I just figured I'd be a bit better off a month in. Weight loss is a marathon, not a sprint, I just need to keep reminding myself.
I am in the midst of a liver detox/cleanse right now in hopes that may help I'll give the details and progress on that next time. I've had issues with my enzymes being out of whack so I'm trying to be nice to my one and only liver by cleaning it out. I will also be cutting more calories from the diet, which sucks because I like to eat more when I'm working out hard. This bout has been much different from my previous attempts and it pisses me off! Is it because I'm getting older? Who knows! To add injury (and I mean it quite seriously!) to insult, my knees have been loudly protesting my work outs. Much to my frustration, my efforts to run have largely been defeated by my body's tendency to want me to stay fat. I've gotten in 3 runs in the last two weeks. That's about 3 shy of my marathon training goals. I've got 12 weeks until this marathon and 2 knees that are ready for me to quit. As it stands, this may be my last "run" and I'm pretty broken hearted about it. Running was my key to losing weight the last go around so naturally I'm a bit worried I won't be able to meet my goals.
I still have set some lofty goals for this month and would like to lose 10 lbs, and I really think that I can, it just requires some tweaking here and there. So I hope all of your efforts are going better than mine right now! Until next time, stay thirsty my friends!!
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Accountability and crap
So. If you've read anything I've written in the past you know my story already. If you're new to the bitter rants of an angry overweight 30 something, let me catch you up to speed. Quickly. I was fat once. Then I started to be not so fat. And I wrote about it. The end.
Well, life took its toll and the whole "I'll never go back to being over 200 lbs" line ended up being a bunch of crap. I've seen plenty of weight loss shows with crying contestants discussing how they gained all their weight after a loved one died, and it never made any sense to me, there was a part of me that just didn't get that. Then my dad got sick. And between stress eating, and comfort eating, and eventually both numerous times over, I found myself having gained back nearly all of the weight I had previously worked so damn hard to take off. And really quickly too. Man, grief does some really effed up stuff to a person and I get it now! Truth is, I never really knew I was grieving via food until I looked at my body, really looked at it, and saw just how big I had gotten again. That is where it became not ok for me to continue to bury my feelings, drowning them in cookies, and cake , and pizza, fast food...I mean, we all know I could go on!
I knew what I had done to myself. And I wasn't about to do anything to fix it because it felt good, like a nice hot bath after a rough day, I wanted to eat and be lazy because in some sick way it was helping me cope. I did go to therapy for a while and we briefly discussed why I emotionally sabotage myself, but we never found the root of it.I had stopped going by then, stopped caring, it wasn't helping much anyhow. I tried new medications, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety meds, even pills that help you eat less. All with little to no success. Ultimately, I need to get out of my own head, I've done this before, why couldn't I to do it again? I I can't rely on anything to do it for me. I need to climb this mountain and get over it by myself. It's nothing you can magically fix with a pill, which I know I've mentioned before, nor can I be lazy about it, it requires work and commitment! So I joined gym, and I signed up for a half marathon. Nothing like throwing myself out of the pan and into the fire right there! And now I need my community more than I ever have. To keep me accountable, to keep me sane, to keep me motivated. So if you're in you're own personal 12th hour and need to start being a better version of you, whatever that may mean to you, toss your hat in with mine and let's climb baby! Let's grab the bull by the horns and do this!!
Day 1: 224 lbs
Goal for July: under 220.
(I've got 2 weeks left, yikes!!!)
Well, life took its toll and the whole "I'll never go back to being over 200 lbs" line ended up being a bunch of crap. I've seen plenty of weight loss shows with crying contestants discussing how they gained all their weight after a loved one died, and it never made any sense to me, there was a part of me that just didn't get that. Then my dad got sick. And between stress eating, and comfort eating, and eventually both numerous times over, I found myself having gained back nearly all of the weight I had previously worked so damn hard to take off. And really quickly too. Man, grief does some really effed up stuff to a person and I get it now! Truth is, I never really knew I was grieving via food until I looked at my body, really looked at it, and saw just how big I had gotten again. That is where it became not ok for me to continue to bury my feelings, drowning them in cookies, and cake , and pizza, fast food...I mean, we all know I could go on!
I knew what I had done to myself. And I wasn't about to do anything to fix it because it felt good, like a nice hot bath after a rough day, I wanted to eat and be lazy because in some sick way it was helping me cope. I did go to therapy for a while and we briefly discussed why I emotionally sabotage myself, but we never found the root of it.I had stopped going by then, stopped caring, it wasn't helping much anyhow. I tried new medications, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety meds, even pills that help you eat less. All with little to no success. Ultimately, I need to get out of my own head, I've done this before, why couldn't I to do it again? I I can't rely on anything to do it for me. I need to climb this mountain and get over it by myself. It's nothing you can magically fix with a pill, which I know I've mentioned before, nor can I be lazy about it, it requires work and commitment! So I joined gym, and I signed up for a half marathon. Nothing like throwing myself out of the pan and into the fire right there! And now I need my community more than I ever have. To keep me accountable, to keep me sane, to keep me motivated. So if you're in you're own personal 12th hour and need to start being a better version of you, whatever that may mean to you, toss your hat in with mine and let's climb baby! Let's grab the bull by the horns and do this!!
Day 1: 224 lbs
Goal for July: under 220.
(I've got 2 weeks left, yikes!!!)
Monday, March 23, 2015
It isn't easy
I didn't even remember what website I blogged on that's how long it has been since I have done this. That's really strange for me. It's not like I haven't had anything to say for over a year. But the fact that I am taking time away from studying for my big physio test tomorrow so that I can jot down my feeling today means that there are many things prattling around in the brain.
Today at work I received the dreaded call from Ethan's school. I have been steadily getting calls a least once a week from the school about Ethan's behavior for the last 3 weeks or so. This means that I have to leave work, head out to the school, and go fetch my child and either, calm him down and send him on his merry way back to class, or pack him up and head home. On top of the IEP meetings and such. He is having a rough time again this time of year, and while last year we thought it was based around a certain life trigger, this year there was no such event that could have caused this. It's just his form of spring fever.
Now, when I have to come and get E from school I never know what state I will find him in. The first time I was called was because he was having an epic meltdown where he destroyed three classrooms, only for me to find him happily having lunch in the cafeteria. The next incident he was curled up in an assistant's lap crying his eyes out, it took me an hour to get him to calm down enough for me to go back to work. Today when I got to the school, I found Ethan in the boys restroom with a shirt and underwear on and covered in water and soap bubbles, he was in such a state that he didn't even seem to know I was there for almost ten minuets, despite me talking to him, he just looked right through me. It was such a weird feeling. I have always said that we are "blessed" that Ethan falls into the high functioning category of the Autism spectrum, lately I don't feel that way. It is hard. Harder than I would ever wish for anyone to experience. Maybe it's because he is so high functioning that we expect more from him? Maybe because of that we don't think that these types of behaviors should happen? Really though, no one told us anything.
I cannot even begin to explain how deeply frustrating it is telling your child that every time he goes poop he has to wipe, flush, and wash, because it's a miracle if he does so without us telling him. Or that we need to guide him through showering: Get in the shower, wash hair, wash body, get out of the shower, because if we don't he will sit in the running water and not do a single thing. The boy that most people see, even close family, seems perfectly normal for a 7 year old child, maybe a little quirky, but normal. The boy we see is vastly different. Can you imagine the emotions you would feel finding your son with out his pants and shoes on in the boys bathroom covered in soap bubbles and hearing that he peed on not only himself but was trying to pee on the aids in the bathroom trying to keep him safe too? You'd lose your damn mind, and that's what I did. Out of my frustration I started to cry, and I really hate crying in front of others. But I am just so damned exhausted, and frustrated, and tired. And I feel like a failure. I feel like I am a terrible mom. I punish him because I don't know what else to do. Because if I don't I am too weak and am going too easy on him. I get judged by my own family for the parenting choices I make, I am seen by my co-workers as untrustworthy since I am always having to leave work, to some of my friends I complain too much about how hard things are. Not to mention I can always feel the weight of folks stares if we go anywhere in public and he loses his mind. We have had people move away from us in restaurants because of the way the boys have acted. Sometimes I think that if E was a more severe case it might be better, people would look on us with sympathy instead of with judgement. That *might* make me feel a bit better, I don't know.
"I don't know how you do it!" I do hear that often, yes, my plate is very full. My therapist tells me that every time I go to see her. I just read an interesting article today that talked about this "I don't know how you do it" phrase. Like I have a fucking choice? I can't stay home, I have to work. I want to be home more so I have to go to school to be able to make enough money and work only one or two days a week. I didn't get to choose to have an Autistic child or a wicked little three-nager running a muck (though there are days I really wish I'd have stayed on birth control!) But I made the choice to have kids and these were the one's I was blessed to watch over and raise and I love them NO MATTER WHAT! I had no choice in my dad dying, I have to live through that, I can't just quit and say "NOPE, NOT TODAY LIFE! You don't get to be hard!!!" So I don't know how you don't know how I do it! I have to do it. I just need love and support and understanding. All the things that all of us moms need from each other. Not the other junk. And today, life wins, I am defeated. I suck, I fail. And that's ok, because tomorrow is a new day and a new struggle and maybe I'll win that one, and maybe I won't, but I won't ever quit.
(I seriously need to go study so I am not proofreading :P )
Today at work I received the dreaded call from Ethan's school. I have been steadily getting calls a least once a week from the school about Ethan's behavior for the last 3 weeks or so. This means that I have to leave work, head out to the school, and go fetch my child and either, calm him down and send him on his merry way back to class, or pack him up and head home. On top of the IEP meetings and such. He is having a rough time again this time of year, and while last year we thought it was based around a certain life trigger, this year there was no such event that could have caused this. It's just his form of spring fever.
Now, when I have to come and get E from school I never know what state I will find him in. The first time I was called was because he was having an epic meltdown where he destroyed three classrooms, only for me to find him happily having lunch in the cafeteria. The next incident he was curled up in an assistant's lap crying his eyes out, it took me an hour to get him to calm down enough for me to go back to work. Today when I got to the school, I found Ethan in the boys restroom with a shirt and underwear on and covered in water and soap bubbles, he was in such a state that he didn't even seem to know I was there for almost ten minuets, despite me talking to him, he just looked right through me. It was such a weird feeling. I have always said that we are "blessed" that Ethan falls into the high functioning category of the Autism spectrum, lately I don't feel that way. It is hard. Harder than I would ever wish for anyone to experience. Maybe it's because he is so high functioning that we expect more from him? Maybe because of that we don't think that these types of behaviors should happen? Really though, no one told us anything.
I cannot even begin to explain how deeply frustrating it is telling your child that every time he goes poop he has to wipe, flush, and wash, because it's a miracle if he does so without us telling him. Or that we need to guide him through showering: Get in the shower, wash hair, wash body, get out of the shower, because if we don't he will sit in the running water and not do a single thing. The boy that most people see, even close family, seems perfectly normal for a 7 year old child, maybe a little quirky, but normal. The boy we see is vastly different. Can you imagine the emotions you would feel finding your son with out his pants and shoes on in the boys bathroom covered in soap bubbles and hearing that he peed on not only himself but was trying to pee on the aids in the bathroom trying to keep him safe too? You'd lose your damn mind, and that's what I did. Out of my frustration I started to cry, and I really hate crying in front of others. But I am just so damned exhausted, and frustrated, and tired. And I feel like a failure. I feel like I am a terrible mom. I punish him because I don't know what else to do. Because if I don't I am too weak and am going too easy on him. I get judged by my own family for the parenting choices I make, I am seen by my co-workers as untrustworthy since I am always having to leave work, to some of my friends I complain too much about how hard things are. Not to mention I can always feel the weight of folks stares if we go anywhere in public and he loses his mind. We have had people move away from us in restaurants because of the way the boys have acted. Sometimes I think that if E was a more severe case it might be better, people would look on us with sympathy instead of with judgement. That *might* make me feel a bit better, I don't know.
"I don't know how you do it!" I do hear that often, yes, my plate is very full. My therapist tells me that every time I go to see her. I just read an interesting article today that talked about this "I don't know how you do it" phrase. Like I have a fucking choice? I can't stay home, I have to work. I want to be home more so I have to go to school to be able to make enough money and work only one or two days a week. I didn't get to choose to have an Autistic child or a wicked little three-nager running a muck (though there are days I really wish I'd have stayed on birth control!) But I made the choice to have kids and these were the one's I was blessed to watch over and raise and I love them NO MATTER WHAT! I had no choice in my dad dying, I have to live through that, I can't just quit and say "NOPE, NOT TODAY LIFE! You don't get to be hard!!!" So I don't know how you don't know how I do it! I have to do it. I just need love and support and understanding. All the things that all of us moms need from each other. Not the other junk. And today, life wins, I am defeated. I suck, I fail. And that's ok, because tomorrow is a new day and a new struggle and maybe I'll win that one, and maybe I won't, but I won't ever quit.
(I seriously need to go study so I am not proofreading :P )
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