As I sit to write this I realize that this is my eighth week on program. The time seems to have flown by. I am amazed by how much more alert, happy and full of energy I am. Don’t get me wrong I have struggled. Some days I struggle to hold it together all day long. I am not good at dealing with anger in a positive way. I have spent most of my life avoiding the emotional repercussions of anger.  The more I try NOT to own a disappointment the larger that dress(anger is just disappointment in an ugly dress) becomes both emotionally and physically. The more effort I put into avoiding how I feel the more likely I am to calm those raw feelings with food.

I have been trying to choose better ways to deal with the things that cause me to get aggravated, frustrated, put out and worn down. I blog. I go for a walk. I call my bestie. I plan out summer field trips and adventures. I window shop for smaller clothing. Odd how a little honesty goes a long way. Some times I manage to talk myself out from under a bad mood or a bad day, sometimes not. What I’m learning is it is okay to get angry as long as I don’t allow that anger  to control how I treat myself or other people.

I am beginning to notice my size is changing for the smaller. It is a wonderful, joyous feeling to put on a piece of clothing and realize it fits better. I actually have a little more moving around room. My shirts are getting longer in length as there is less of me to cover. I missed that feeling of accomplishment. It is a nice change to shout “Atta girl” out loud in my mind instead of the dark mutterings I used to actually listen too. Never give up on the person you are meant to be. You got this! Atta Girl!

Weak One

I didn’t want to get out of bed so early; but, I did it. I didn’t want to admit that I had left my journey on the road back at my fork; but, I did it. I didn’t want to accept that I needed to go back to WWs; but, I did it. I got up before the alarm clock went off. I woke my hubby by trying to be TOO QUIET. I rushed out the door. I was a walking emoticon. I felt like crying. My throat felt tight like I couldn’t breathe. I was anxious about walking through that door. I talked to myself the entire drive over. I sat in my Jeep for a few moments and pep talked myself into going in. I went in. I weighed in. I sat down and I let go of my anxiety. I did it.

I did this for me. I am worth this. I forgot how important I am to myself. I need to be healthy for me.  How things have changed. New rules to learn, bad habits to tame into healthy routines, exercise!?! UGH!!! I have a hate/love relationship with that. I could blame this on high school forced participation (with little to no encouragement or positive feedback) ; but, I am adulting today. I listened to the topic for the week. As a group we laughed, exchanged ideas and talked about our lives. It felt wonderful. I love my early Saturday morning meeting. I have missed you.

I have struggled all week to make better choices. I made a few mistakes. Unlike times past, I haven’t given into myself. I am trying to make this work for me. I miss seeing my feet. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never be the Diva in double digit underpants ever again. I want to be the best version of myself. I have quite the adventure ahead of me. Tomorrow is my weigh-in day. I am a little nervous and excited at the same time. I had a great week because I took part in my well being.  What have I learned this week? I am not the WEAK ONE. I can do this.


Parting Ways

It is difficult to be “in” everyday. We all do it. Walk through a day instead of being in the day. Maybe it happened the last time just a few days ago when you had to sit through a work meeting or maybe it was at a function you didn’t want to go to like a graduation or a wedding. My point is we all do it. I do it as a way to preserve my sanity; play along to get along. I hate that about myself. Every time I walk through a day I lose a tiny piece of myself. I am tired of giving me away for no return on my investment.

I find, for myself, that every time I do this my ANGER grows. I become less happy. My resentment level builds to a point where I feel like a cat whose fur has been rubbed the wrong way, putting me on edge. I feel boxed in with no hope for escape. It needs to stop. I am letting go of my anger, again. I want Anger to leave and take her nasty friends, Fear and Loathing with her. Whenever we hang out together I am the one who suffers. I start to question all of my life choices. I am 50. Let’s be honest my anger about wrong path taking should have been set on the right road along time ago. I didn’t follow my dreams because I was afraid. Afraid to live.

I hold a grudge against myself for letting myself down over and over. Self-loathing doesn’t change anything. The only thing I accomplish by being angry with myself is fulfill my own prophecy about not amounting to much. Hold a person up to high expectations and the common man will do whatever it takes to rise to the occasion, to prove his worth, to be given the chance for better and bigger things. I just want my chance. I know in the depths of my soul that I am capable of being so much more than I allow myself to be.

I need a positive change. I will post at least one positive thing a day. I will make it about something that I do or accomplish for me. I am worth the time. Today I made the choice to be happier with myself just the way I am. All my flaws and all the things I like about myself; the whole package = )wpid-20141101_172457.jpg