I would love to say I am still motivated and positive about my journey . . . 2016 the Year of My New Beginning, but at this precise moment, I am not. I feel frustrated. I am angry. Not at anyone except myself. I am not feeling the joy I felt in those beginning months.
I am struggling to locate my positivity, motivation and joy. I am struggling with finding the reason for this struggle. I am trying to figure out why, after doing so well, I am content with the back-sliding.
Is it because I am officially 50 and have accepted I am no longer you and somewhat vibrant? No. Just because I am 50 does not mean it is the end of the world.
Maybe it is because of my crazy and insane jealousy toward all those ‘success’ stories? I am. I really am. I see all kinds of them. These people have worked their asses off and have found – and followed – eating and exercise plans which are working for them. I am happy and excited for them, but yet . . . I hate them.
OK . . . Maybe I don’t hate them. I am DEFINITELY envious and jealous as hell. In my current Pity Party state, I want to know why I fail at staying the course. I ant to know why I am unable to find an eating and exercise plan I can happily do for the rest of my life. I want to know why I wasn’t blessed with a body that does not require a lot to maintain it. I want to know why those success stories make it look so fucking easy (even though I know it was not). I want to know why a ‘magic little cure-all’ pill has not been created/invented yet.
It appears my motivation and positivity are on hiatus . . . Like my favorite television shows. It is barely five months into this journey and I have fallen off the wagon. I am in a rut which is quickly turning into a crater.
Maybe it is the loneliness getting to me? I have been married for 18 years. For 16 years, he has been a truck driver. It has meant being a single parent without actually being a single parent. It has meant sleeping alone for the majority of each year. It has meant a lot of loneliness. It has meant that as my weight went up, my self-esteem, self-confidence and self-worth have lowered . . . almost to the gone missing level.
It is so fucking hard to love myself as I am at this very moment. The fat rolls, cottage cheese lumps and bumps, double chin and floppy arms on this body are ugly. They are not the least bit attractive. If I do not find them attractive, I definitely do not expect my husband to.
The beauty of this blog is my sort-of anonymity. I am able to share my real thoughts in ways I seem to be unable to in my real world. It is easier for me to reveal this in writing to the cyber world than it is to share these thoughts and feelings with those who know me best.
I hate feeling as though I am weak. Being unable to stay committed to this journey makes me feel weak and inadequate. I feel as though I am not enough. By balling off the wagon and deeper into the crater, remaining fat and frumpy will be my lot in life.
Believe it or not, I truly love to lift people up and see them succeed with their dreams and goals. It is easy for me to push or pull them along so they can reach what they set out to do. When I help someone, I feel good. I love to see or hear their smiles. If I can do it without them knowing, it is even better.
Should I not be able to do the same for myself . . . Even just a little?
OK . . . ENOUGH. The Pity Party Train is about to be derailed!
As I lay here on the deck my absolutely wonderful husband made for me, I am beginning to realize in my negativity, lack of motivation and positivity stems mostly from the lack of daily walks with my pups. It has been a nice chunk of time since we have walked consistently. The heat and humidity combo does not just take a toll on them, but me as well. Heat is fine by itself. Throw in the humidity and it saps all the motivation.
It also does not help that I woke up with a migraine. I am torturing myself by sitting in the sun, trying to absorb the Vitamin D. Plus, it is quiet.
Even though my husband has not yet made it home, the TV is on. The grandson of one of my Marine Corps Sister’s is spending the weekend with us. She and her husband are attending a no-children allowed wedding in another state. It has been a very long time since I have had to entertain a seven-year-old!
The husband is screwed out of another weekend. Instead of getting home last night as he was supposed to, he ran out of hours and had to shut down for the night when he was about three hours from home. Sometimes it is hard to accept the cost of being a truck driver and a truck driver’s wife.
Now that I have absorbed some natural Vitamin D, I am better – albeit marginally – but better nonetheless.
I apologize for the negativity and the Pity Party Train I made you a reluctant passenger on.
I truly appreciate everyone who has taken the time out of their day to bravely join this journey with me.
Here is my positive thought for today: