I've dropped bombs.  Said things from dark places that can't be unsaid, not that I want to un-say anything.  Those dark places that we all have are full of rage and hurt and everything but reason.  Nothing makes sense there until you pull it out and look at it - and still that takes time.  Nothing there gets better until you pull it out and look at it - it takes longer to fix than it does to understand.  I miss the life no one's ever had, the fantasy that I could live without having all the dark and twisty bits, and just enjoy life.  Not too much thinking about anything, feeling healthy, doing what I want, being happy, having a family, having enough, and creating.  But I don't think anyone lives that life.  Who doesn't have worries?  Aches?  Not enough of something?  I've been feeling for a while that I need a whole life change.  New routines.  New job.  New house.  New everything for life with my husband.  I'm stuck in the Grand Canyon of ruts and wish I could be transported far far away to a brand new life - leaving everything behind.

I have no answers.  I'm wandering lost ... I assume everyone else is too.
 
It also means I'm struggling with something.  Today it's reality.  The reality that the only support I have in this journey is verbal support.  The reality that my one friend who is willing to go to the gym with me has a schedule that doesn't quite match mine, so trips to the gym with her just don't happen enough.  The reality that I'm emotionally, physically, and mentally too tired by the time the husband-to-be gets home from work to muster the motivation to drag my butt to the gym alone, much less to struggle with him to get him to go too.  The reality that grocery shopping, meal planning, and meal prep is on me.  The reality that the sugar addiction in my house isn't going to be cured or even mildly improved without causing a rift.  Yes.  Addiction.  I can't fight the fight for two adults ... I can't even do it for myself all the time.  I am absolutely isolated on this journey.  I'm being ignored.  I seethe when sodas are being chugged around me.  I feel like it's a capital Fuck You I'll Do What I Damned Well Please No Matter How Much It Bothers You And How Bad It Is For Me.  Oh and since I've mentioned it, I've been pondering this soda crap a lot lately.  Divorcing all emotion and Id, soda in any way shape or form is stupid.  Pure stupidity.  8 ounces, on average, is 100 calories and it's made of nothing but sugar and chemicals; formulated to keep you hooked.  Ignore the last bit and just look at the calories, 100 calories is not that bad.  If you stop at 8 ounces.  No one stops at 8 ounces.  Join me for a trip to a restaurant ... the glass they serve your soda in is at least 16 ounces, but probably more like 22-24 ounces.  Let's say, for the sake of argument and easy math that there's only 16 ounces of soda in the glass, the rest is ice.  You get your soda before your order is placed and chug it because you're thirsty.  It's been a long day of shopping and you're in some serious need of liquid.  200 calories.  You get a refill and drink it along with your appetizer.  400 calories.  You get another refill while you're waiting for your entree and start drinking it and then finish it with your entree.  600 calories.  Another refill and finish that as you finish the meal.  800 calories.  The waiter brings a refill, but then takes forever to bring the check, so you finish that one too.  1000 calories.  You've just had half the daily recommended caloric intake for a full day ... in chemicals and liquid sugar.  And all the while not thinking about it at all.  Not realizing that 1. you've had that much to drink.  2. it was just 1000 calories minimum.  If you don't think about it, it doesn't exist, right?  And what pisses me off about all of this, the no support and the feeling that I'm the only one in my house that gives a shit about living and eating healthier, is that I know for a fact that if we BOTH make small changes now I won't have to be a dictator (for me, husband, AND kid) when a child comes along.  Because so help me God, I am not letting my child grow up thinking it's OK to drink shit-tons of sugar, eat junk food, or eat fast food.  My kid will know how to THINK about food instead of just shove whatever shit is laying around into their mouth.  I will go rabid momma bear all over anyone who attempts the contrary with my kid.  It is all about protecting them from obesity and a lifetime of health issues.  If we start making small changes now, it means I won't have to be the raging bitch later and cause problems, hurt feelings, and alienate my husband because everything else I've done until then has been ignored.  I'm being ignored.  Bad choices are being ignored.  Hey, there's no health problems ... YET.  So I don't have to worry about it ... YET.  Because if there's no repercussions NOW, there never will be, right?  Denial is a beautiful place of sunshine and roses.  I'm tired of trying to make him understand that changes have to be made.  Junk food and soda have to go.  Portion sizes need to shrink.  Exercise has to happen.  And most of all, just because it's not a problem now, doesn't mean a massive heart attack or pulmonary embolism isn't around the corner for either of us.  Small changes now and over time means there won't be much to change later.  It's easier to change a little bit here and there than to change everything all at once.  This is not a game.  It is not OK to be complacent.  But I feel like everything I've said so far, for the past year or more, has been wasted effort and just fuel for rage directed at me.  I'm not allowed to talk about it because all I get is anger back.  And if it's not anger, it's empty words of support.  I still don't need a cheer leader.  I need a partner.  I'm being ignored.  I'm being ignored.  

I'M BEING IGNORED!  

I don't matter.  

I'm the only one who fucking cares and I can't carry the world by myself.

What I want doesn't matter.

I'm being ignored.

I can't do this alone.

I'm being ignored.

I will fail alone.

Now that I've dumped all that out there, cried, and fessed up to exactly how I'm feeling ... let's move on, shall we?  I have my days where all I want is a Coke or cake or junk junkity junk.  I've struggled most of my adult life with cutting out soda.  So when I can't get that craving out of my system, I go to the nearest store and buy the smallest Coke I can find.  Since the closest store is 7-11, the smallest bottle 16 or 20 oz and I rarely don't drink it all because I reach my done point before the bo.  Or I go get a slice of cake from Giant instead of a whole cake or baking a cake.  Or I get a "snack" size bag of chips, not the econo-bag from Costco.  

So here's a homework assignment - if you're reading this, it applies to you.  Make a list of the foods and drinks that would bother you if you couldn't have any more.  What are the ones that would make that inner child have a tantrum if "mom" said no.  And if you don't mind, share your list in comments - this can be done anonymously too.  Here are mine:
  1. Venti 6-pump White Mocha with no whip cream from Starbucks (around 600 calories)
  2. Popcorn laden with salt and butter
  3. Carrots - it's been a life long thing ever since my crush on Bugs Bunny as a kid
  4. Bacon
  5. Ranch Dressing
  6. Corn - seriously, who doesn't love some sweet corn on the cob?!
  7. Iced Tea - I don't know what I'd drink if I didn't have iced tea.  I like my tea with about 1-3 teaspoons of sugar.  It all depends on how strong the tea is - stronger = more sugar.  At worst, 50 calories per glass.
  8. Condiments like sour cream, mayo, and butter
  9. Spices, herbs, and seasonings.  I'd positively go crazy on whoever took these away from me.
  10. Cheese
There are things I get occasional very loud cravings for that usually can't be ignored or satisfied with something else.  So on occasion:
  1. Brownies/Cake
  2. Coke or Canada Dry
  3. Pancakes
  4. Fried Zucchini
  5. Beef
  6. Milkshake/chocolate milk
  7. Indian food.  mmmmmm
That's all I can think of on the spot, but I'm sure there are more ... There's always more.  I have found a way around some minor cravings.  If I'm craving chocolate milk, I just have a chocolate high protein Boost so at least I'm getting some vitamins and protein with my sugar.  I was also craving chocolate the other day and ate some coconut chips instead - that totally did it for me.  I'm waiting for my next chocolate craving to see if it works again, because that'd be a nice craving hack indeed!  So yeah, what's your list?  Have you found any craving hacks?
 
Just a little reminder.
 
Just a quick update because there is a lot going on at the moment.  The doctor's visit went well.  I did lose weight (3 lb) this month, and he's happy I'm moving in the right direction.  So am I.  I opted for a small adjustment to make the band a little tighter to restrict my consumption a little more, and hopefully by the time I see them again in January, I'll be down 5-10 lb.  That would be really nice.

Also a mental note - my scale registers about 2-2.5 pounds lower than the doctor.  I checked before and after my appointment to confirm.  We'll file this under things that are good to know.
 
It's been quiet here for several days, but life has not been quiet in the least.  I spent Thursday thru Sunday on my feet in an Expo with little sleep.  My sweetie and bestie kept me company (and sane) through the weekend.  Food-wise, it was a mixture of healthful planning (packing lunches & snacks) and pure gluttony.  Now that I'm finally rested enough, I feel like I can get back to business here.  I have my monthly appointment with my gastro doctor tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to that to see what my weight loss is since last appointment.  It should be at least a couple pounds, I think.  I'm not obsessing over numbers, just trying to keep focused on progress.  Any progress is good progress no matter how big or small.  Think of it as a trajectory, not a velocity and that's where I'm trying to keep my mindset - it helps with the self-judging and sanity for sure!

So more on the gastro doctor.  Those closest to me know that I had the Lap Band surgery in late 2008.  So far I can still say it was the wisest decision I've made.  I progressed nicely, lost weight, didn't have any issues, and was trucking along nicely for the first couple years.  Then my surgeon decided to sell his practice, my favorite member of his group left for a better environment to work in (post-sale), and things just went down hill from there.  I didn't like the new people so I just quit going.  Bad decision.  Over the months/years, my band managed to slip out of place and it was causing me lots of issues.  I couldn't sleep laying down or I'd aspirate stomach acid/fluids.  I had lots of acid reflux.  Sometimes I couldn't drink fluids because even they wouldn't go down.  Enough was enough, so I started calling around to find a new bariatric surgeon to take me on for after-care.  It was a lot harder than I expected.  A couple places I called wouldn't take patients from my surgeon (and offered no explanation).  One guy was retiring, so he wasn't taking new patients.  I finally tracked down a local office that would take me, but then they needed a copy of my original op report.  That took over a month to get because it was archived, but once I got that, I was able to get in and have my initial consultation and barium swallow/imaging to see just how bad things were.  It was bad.  My Lap Band was nearly 90 degrees out of alignment and acting as an obstruction which is why I had problems with liquids as well as solids.  The first step was to remove all the fluid from my band to see if it would right itself.  I felt the improvement immediately, and unfortunately I was completely unrestricted for food consumption.  In the 8 weeks between that appointment and my follow up, I gained around 20 pounds.  I felt horrible, I was beating myself up, and I knew I just didn't have the gumption to do anything about it.  At my follow up, the surgeon added some fluid back to my band, and we went forward to see how that worked.  A month later, no issues, but I still gained weight.  About 6 more pounds.  A little more fluid was added, and off I went for another month to see how things went.  I was finally feeling a little restriction.  I couldn't eat as much, but I wasn't having any issues.  But then I got sick - a cold, which turned into an upper respiratory infection ... three weeks I was sick, so when I went back for my follow up this last time, they decided not to do anything because I'd just spent the last 3 of my 4 weeks sick, on meds, my whole body was cranky.  I was OK with that.  I think I could stand to have a little more fluid added to the band, but we'll see what the doc says tomorrow.  The band, plus my efforts to pay attention to what I eat as well as get back to making the majority of what I eat myself rather than packaged/prepared foods or dining out.  I feel physically better when I do this anyway. 

If you're thinking about bariatric surgery and want a more detailed account of my experience and my thoughts about it, let me know.  I'll be happy to share.  It's a hard decision to make and it's not the right decision for everyone, but the more information you have, the better!
 
You know what's hard?  Change.  Understanding habits.  Accepting anything other than complacent laziness.  That's the clever bit.  Complacency.  I find it easy to be the take-charge type of woman in so many aspects of my life, but health isn't one of them.  When it comes to my own health, I'm complacent.  Sure, I'll complain here and there, but do I DO anything about it?  meh.  Motivation is evasive, especially when I'm busy.  And I somehow always manage to be busy.  Maybe I'm allergic to down-time, maybe I subconsciously don't want down-time for whatever reason.  Either way, it's been about a week of "I don't care."  I'd be a little daft if I thought hormones didn't play a role in this.  I get crazy cravings for sweet and/or salty carbs every month ... I can only imagine how insane I'll be with cravings when I'm pregnant because it's pretty bad when I'm not pregnant.  And as much as I love carrots, they're not cake or popcorn or Kit Kats.  I also find myself trying to fight off what feels like the beginning of a cold, so the desire to be in the kitchen cooking delicious and healthy meals is nil.  We had pizza last night and I didn't care that it was everything that I shouldn't be eating.  I even tried to have some Chipotle over the weekend, but I didn't like it.  I barely ate half, so maybe that's something positive.  Maybe my taste buds are breaking up with Chipotle.  That'd be nice.  Then there was the chocolate truffles, butter chicken, naan, starbucks, cake pops ... it was a hedonistic weekend.  I know I've been "bad" this week.  I also know I don't really care.  I feel guilty about all the bad food choices and not caring about them.  But I also know that this isn't me giving up.  The long term goal isn't flushed down the toilet, it's just been on hold. 

I'm hoping I have energy when I get home from work and voting to make some zucchini and carrot "fries" that my sweetie sent me a recipe for yesterday.  They look yummy - basically just sticks of the veg, coated lightly in olive oil, and then seasoned to your liking, roast at 425 for about 20-30 minutes and Bob's your uncle.  If the veg turns out exceptionally yummy, I'll share the details.
 
It's been a quiet couple of days online for me, but it's been a hectic couple of days off the computer.  Saturday was a day of appointments.  My day started with a 9 AM dentist appointment and ended after 1 AM when we got home.  As far as being healthy and eating healthy and all that?  Saturday was an epic failure, but I'm a reasonable woman.  I don't assume I'll be able to live on planet Earth and eat 100% healthy 100% of the time.  I'm trying to eat 95% healthy 80+% of the time.  Because no one can successfully cut out all sugar, dairy, wheat, and be successful at it when you're used to having some or all of those things on a daily basis.  Reality.  I'm trying to live in it.  It sucks sometimes, but I'm coming to an understanding of sorts.  Sunday was a bit better, though I didn't eat anything until around 1, then we had my nephew's birthday dinner at Sakura where my meal was somewhere in between the healthy and not.  I had an order of gyoza, fried rice, and an all veg entree (OK, broccoli and carrots because I didn't want to be bothered to pick out the onions and I just wasn't feeling zucchini at the moment).  I'd gone a week or so without having any soda, but Saturday's Halloween party buggered that up. ... kinda makes me feel like I'm confessing at an AA meeting about a relapse.  I thrive in structure and the structure of a normal work week makes it easy to keep up with everything.   Cooking dinner, packing lunches, taking vitamins.  But weekends are usually chaos and everything falls apart for me then.  I don't make time for me - for health, for rest, for pampering, no time for me.  Partly it's because I know there is so much to do in the house, for the business, for the family, and I put me last.  Always.  Because I don't deserve my own time.  I live in the service of others, and this is the reality I have created for myself.  No time for my own life.  The only time I'm not last on my list is when I'm sick, and that's only because I'm not physically capable of not being a sick blob on the couch - and then I still try anyway.  Somehow my desire to get healthy is driven by this too, this putting me last thing.  Because while I want to be healthy for me and I want to feel better emotionally, it's not just for me.  It's so I can make the people around me happier.  So I can be here for them longer.  So I can work for them harder.  Even my desire to make me better is perverted into a self-minimizing thing where everyone else is still more important than me.  At some point, I hope that I'll realize it's OK for me to be important to myself.  In the meantime, I'll keep working at eating healthy and getting this body of mine working better.

So when I talk about eating healthy, what is it I am doing exactly?  I've broken down and paid for a Weight Watchers subscription so I can use their iPhone apps.  Their point system isn't overly complicated and it makes sense to me, and I find it easy to follow.  Hopefully I'll go longer than 3 months - which is how long I stayed on WW last time.  I quit last time because it was working and I feared success.  I still need to pick apart this fear so I can get rid of it, but I don't feel like starting to poke this beast today.  I'm not avoiding it, but I don't want it to turn into a ragey crying-fest like my last post did when I realized I was abusing myself emotionally.  But back to what I'm doing for eating healthier ... I'm also trying to take the Paleo Diet rules into account as well which basically boil down to no grains, no dairy, no sugar, yes meat, yes veg, and yes fruit.  I still lightly sweeten my tea.  I'm still having grains occasionally.  I've cut down a lot on the dairy, but it's not gone.  The Paleo thing makes grocery shopping easy too.  Just hit the produce section and the meat section and you're pretty much done.  No shopping the isles staring at all the boxes of food-like products trying to figure out which one is going to be the most yummy.  Sauces, herbs, and seasonings are my friends, and they're what's going to get me through what could potentially be a highly monotonous menu.  Speaking of herbs and seasonings, a couple days ago I made a medley of roasted veg that knocked my socks off.  I couldn't stop eating them!  Me.  The carnivore.  Couldn't stop eating veg.  It was parsnips, carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, zucchini, and a bit of left over polenta - all cubed up (about 6 cups), lightly coated in olive oil (2-3T), and then I added Savory Herb blend (2T*), Sandwich Sprinkle (1T*), Season-All (2tsp*), and a touch of pepper and garlic salt (*measurements are all estimates).  Apparently making veg yummy to me means adding a lot of flavor to them.  Who knew?
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Emotionally I'm doing OK.  Not great, not horrible.  I'm trying very hard not to beat myself up about how nutritionally bad the weekend was and remind myself that the occasional insane days are OK.  Really actually OK.  Nothing to get worked up about, nothing to berate myself about, nothing to throw in the towel about.  And historically I throw in the towel.  If I don't perform perfectly, I give up.  But I don't feel like that's an option anymore.  I do feel it sometimes though.  I feel the hurt and the abuser coming out and starting to do what it always does, and it's so hard to stop that process.  It's been in place since I was little, and that abuser wants me to fail.  The abuser wants more fuel so it can continue to knock me down.  But I'm now determined to learn how to tell that abuser to STFU.  Awareness is the first step ... Knowing is half the battle.  I'll keep an eye on the abuser so I can keep an eye on my emotional health.  All of this feels an awful lot like I'd imagine an adult learning to walk for the first time.  You know it's something you should be able to do, but for some reason you can't and it's hard because you never learned it when you were young.  I just keep reminding myself that there is no such thing as perfection on this journey.  It's going to be hard.  I'm going to "mess up."  I'm going to be lost.  I'm going to succeed.  I also need to keep reminding myself not to minimize my successes or to fear them.  I guess my next big project is to try to figure out that fear of success.  I'm not looking forward to it.  I'm not looking forward to uncovering and rehashing some very painful events in my life because I'm almost certain that's what this fear is tied to. 

P.S.  Feel free to comment, discuss, and/or share your own stories.  We all have them and this is a safe forum to share.

 
No really.  There's only three letters!  But aside from that, let's think about how certain words have become taboo or insults.  When I was a kid, when someone called me fat, it hurt.  Being fat is a shameful thing to be in our society.  It's more acceptable to be a struggling alcoholic than a struggling fat person.  Everything everywhere tells you this - either directly or indirectly.  Don't know what I mean?  Directly, it's all the diet program/pill ads, fitness programs, gym ads, all the things that say you need to be skinny and ripped.  Indirectly, it's everything else in media that features thin beautiful people and the fat people are usually only there to be stupid or funny ... if they're there at all.  We are all taught that being anything other than thin and pretty isn't acceptable in this society.  Ya know what?  I say fuck all of you who think that way.  The only reason I want to lose weight is because of how I feel - certainly not what society says.
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I would much rather look like the first photo than the second, but society says I should look more like Allie Crandell ... just maybe not with my ribs showing and my joints larger than my legs/arms.  I'm genuinely curious ... between the two ladies pictured at the right, what do you see as more beautiful/attractive?  This is a purely subjective exercise.  There is no right answer ... this is not a trap!  :-)  I prefer the woman who is considered plus sized, but I don't see her as fat.  Though if you ask her doctor, she's likely considered obese, if not morbidly obese.  Hard to tell from a photo.  But seriously, with all that fat pretty people in the world, why has the word "fat" become such a horrible thing?  Fat is factual. Fat fat fat fat fat fat fat fat!  If I think it'll get a chuckle out of you, I'll say I'm fluffy, but I'm fat.  I'm obese.  I'm morbidly obese.  Factually fat.  Unhealthily fat.  And maybe "fat" got a bad reputation because it is truth, and truth does sometimes hurt.  But there's far more offensive things to call a fat person than fat or obese.  Just go to Thesaurus.com and type in "fat" and here's what you'll see:

beefy, big, blimp, bovine, brawny, broad, bulging, bulky, bull, burly, butterball, chunky, corpulent, distended, dumpy, elephantine, fleshy, gargantuan, gross, heavy, heavyset, hefty, husky, inflated, jelly-belly, lard, large, meaty, obese, oversize, paunchy, plump, plumpish, ponderous, porcine, portly, potbellied, pudgy, roly-poly, rotund, solid, stout, swollen, thickset, weighty, whalelike

Certainly most of those are far more insulting than "fat."  Some of them are quite factual, but the majority are more colorful.  I've been called several of them and many others over the years too.  Butterball.  Chunky.  Whale.  Fat-ass.  Tubby.  Lard.  Michelin.  Ugly.  ... And yes, hearing that all throughout my childhood put some programming in place that is very difficult to delete/rewrite as an adult.  So did the growing up with dieting.  It seems like my family was always on a diet together, but mostly it was my mother and me.  There were weekly weighings, menu/recipe cards, carefully measured portions, Jane Fonda and trampoline workouts, body measurements.  Torture.  So not only was I not acceptable to the kids at school and society, I wasn't acceptable to my family, so how could I ever be acceptable to myself?  I actually wonder if the self-loathing ever goes away.  I've gotten pretty good at shoving it in the back of the closet in the recesses of my mind, but it frequently gets out and runs rampant.  Self-loathing is self-abuse.  I don't need someone else to emotionally abuse me about how worthless or lazy I am because I'm fat, I've got that someone built right into my own brain.  You can eventually leave an abusive relationship or move out of your abusive parent's home ... but you can't move out of your own body to escape self-abuse.  And until I wrote this, I didn't realize that this is what I've been doing.  I didn't consciously realize that I've been beating myself down.  I knew I hated myself for being a failure - failure at getting healthy and losing weight, but I'm a self-abuser and I don't know how to stop.  Maybe this is where part of my fear of success lies: If I lose weight, what will my internal abuser have to lord over me?  I do know that fixing the symptom (being fat), isn't going to cure the disease (self-abuse), but will it make it easier?  I don't know.  I also don't know if seeing a shrink would help, and if it would, what specialty?  Who is trained in teaching people to reprogram their brains to not be assholes to themselves?

And you know what the worst part about this built-in-abuser is?  It stops me from receiving compliments and adoration from the person I love most: my future husband.  He adores me.  He thinks I'm beautiful and wonderful and sexy the way I am today.  I believe him too.  But somehow between believing him and believing his beliefs myself, there's a breakdown.  I can't feel about me the way he does ... and that makes me feel like an ass.  Like I'm robbing him of a more fulfilling experience with me by having this belief breakdown and the only person who is at fault is me ... or better yet, my built-in-abuser.  I imagine that getting this built-in-abuser rehabilitated will do wonders for our relationship ... if only in doing wonders for my emotional health.

And by the way, if I haven't said it yet, I'll say it now:  I have every intention of sharing all of the things.  I expect this to be a heavy, upsetting, rage-inducing, triumphant, dark, frustrating, raw, silly at times, elementary ... a drawn out way to say honest.  I will be brutally honest and I will likely surprise myself with some realizations I come to through this process.

 
It's today, and I don't want to. 

I don't wanna anything. 

I want to shut down, curl up, and hide from the world.  But unfortunately the mortgage doesn't get paid by me hiding under a blanket forcing cuddles on any kitties in arm's reach. 

Why?  I started a long post yesterday (which will be posted for you in the next few days) and in my brutal honesty with myself I stirred up a whole bunch of emotional crap that I didn't even know was festering.  Apparently I had an emotional storage unit that I'd forgotten about and I opened that sucker right up.  So I was sad, and hurt, and angry.  Crying and raging.  I managed to work up so much "stuff" that when I got home, I texted my sweetie telling him I really wasn't feeling going to the gym.  He lovingly encouraged me and reminded me that it's a good thing we're doing, but I just shut down.  I was exhausted emotionally (from dealing with new-found baggage) and physically (from not getting enough sleep the night before) and I just responded to him that I needed a nap and maybe things would be better after. 

I really wish they would have been better after my nap, but I had the most ragey rage dream I've ever had.  The gist of the dream was that someone was in my front yard, stealing firewood, and I went outside and confronted them.  Asked if they were going to pay for it or just steal it.  They didn't respond appropriately, so I proceeded to take a piece of firewood and bash the heck out of the car's hood and windshield.  I woke up from that dream ragey, so I got up and started prepping dinner in hopes to calm down while I waited for my sweetie to get home from work.  He came home to a rage-ball, and I told him as plainly as I could that I really didn't want go to the gym because I was an emotional and ragey wreck and it would only get worse.  He understood and kindly called to cancel our appointment with the trainer and that was that.  I feel like an ass for not going, but I feel so overwhelmed right now; that I've taken on too much all at once and I need to pull back a little.  I don't know where the happy medium is right now, but I'll find it.  I'll stumble through, step on toes, rage and cry until I get there. 

To say I've been difficult to live with me for the past few days is putting it lightly.  He's been a saint, but I know it's wearing on him.  We had an epically long conversation last night that was very needed on both sides, and I think things really can only get better from here.  I need my big strong man to be strong for me when I can't.  I need his quiet company and him next to me when I'm broken.  I need him to hold my hand while we both muddle through the hard bits together.  And I'm confident he'll do all these things.  He's just that wonderful and he loves and cares for me that much.

A difficult epiphany I had last night during dinner prep.  Apparently when I'm feeling hurt or vulnerable, I just go to angry.  Because in some way, my brain views Angry as a much safer place to be than Hurt or Vulnerable.  If I get all prickly, nothing will come close to hurt me when I'm already hurting or vulnerable.  I know it's not helpful in the long term, so I'm going to have to recognize when I do this and figure out how to work through it instead of getting prickly.  I'm also good at hiding or ignoring problems.  Again not helpful in the long term.  My list of self-improvement projects is getting longer, and I'm not liking the reality in front of me.  But I keep reminding myself that I'm engaged to a wonderful man and we want to spend the rest of our lives together.  Those lives will be longer if we're healthier and more fit.  Those lives will be better if I work through my baggage.  It's just going to be a rough journey for now and I hope (and believe) that it will all get easer as time goes on and we work through this together.

Also, I want pancakes.  And bacon if you get those silly little boots off it first.
 
So today we're going to the gym.  We have an appointment with a trainer who will hopefully be helpful (can you sense my skepticism?) in helping us both formulate a work out plan that will give us the best results.  So between now and 7 PM, I need to figure out what my fitness goals really are.  I have some vague ideas, but I'm going to try to articulate here, and since we know I'm good at 3s, maybe I'll just start there ...
  1. Lose weight.
  2. Increase endurance.
  3. Increase flexibility.
Lose weight.  This one is pretty self explanatory.  I need to drop excess weight for many reasons.  I'm genetically at risk for developing Diabetes.  My body and joints hurt from all the weight.  I hate the way I look and feel because I'm obese.  I don't want to be embarrassed about how huge and flabby my arms are anymore.  I want to feel better about the way I look so I can bring back that sassy woman that wooed my future husband in the first place!  Also, when the baby factory opens, it's going to be a far easier and healthier pregnancy if I weigh less.  Losing weight will do wonders for my overall physical health AND my emotional health.  I'll feel better about me and maybe I can learn to see me the way my future husband does instead of the horribly negative way I see myself now.

Increase endurance.  I want to be the Energizer Bunny.  The Energizer Bunny doesn't get winded going up a flight of stairs.  I used to not get winded, but my recent weight gain has really taken a toll.  I also do a lot of craft shows in the fall and winter and having the endurance to get through it without taking a day afterwards to recover would be nice.  Then there's my annual volunteering at Fertile Ground Gathering each May - I need to be able to run all over that park like no one's business for 5 days and not feel like I'm dying half way into the first day.  Also, there will be kids in the future.  How the heck am I going to keep up with the kids if I can't run?  ZOMG and dancing.  I'd like to be able to rock out some Lindy Hop for a few songs without dying or getting horribly winded.

Increase flexibility.  I don't want or need to be a pretzel lady, but I enjoy Yoga and when I do it, I have to modify most poses because of my lack of flexibility.  I also can't freaking touch my toes because the muscles and tendons in my legs are so tight they're screaming when I reach to my ankles.  I don't know if there's any medical advantage to being more flexible (like I need scientific justification?), but I want to be more flexible than I am today and really that's all that matters.

Tell me your goals.  What do you want from your body that you don't have today?