Here I sit, on the Monday after holiday weekend completely exhausted from the day’s long, painful work. I had to cancel my Career Counseling meeting because of a proposal that had just come up, due tomorrow. So in my best effort to better love myself because my job does not, I sit here eating Doritos, sandwich and watching “Bridget Jones” (one of my favorite pick-me-up movies). Not bad you say? Well, not bad if I hadn’t been doing just that (minus the classic repeat of “Bridget Jones”) all weekend. Remember how I cut my cable to save money AND get my ass out of the house? Ah, yes…hasn’t quite happened yet. I feel it coming soon seeing how Blockbuster can’t deliver fast enough and my DVD collection is well rehearsed.
I think what keeps me nerved about my current lack for ANYTHING is this seems all too familiar. In college I experienced two horrible years of straight depression and binge eating. It’s much easier to tell people you couldn’t control yourself while you ate FIVE Snickers (King size) candy bars in one hour when you’re smaller than you were. I’m considerably smaller, but the fear of falling back into old, bad habits scares me. I went from a small size 8 to a large, stretching size 12 in ONE YEAR! How I lost it was a simple solution of dating a fuckwit-girlfriend, smoking cigarettes and working a retail job. I went from a growing size 12 to a small size 4! Truly the weight came off by January of my Senior year because I was so stressed all the time that I barely ate. I would eat nothing but sugar and fat products, go work at the local department store and walk it off. It was the most horrible way to have treated my body. In fact, I’m still having to recover the damages two years later. I eat horribly and have to constantly fight my over-snacking taste buds.
Now, I don’t tell you all those details to encourage you to try my painful, totally self damaging, won’t last “diet”, but that I may explain my pain with weight, exercise and the general downer day.
It’s such a shame that I have to reteach myself so many things since my damaging college years. I was alone, abandoned, unwanted and unfulfilled in college. It wasn’t until my Senior year that I started doing more going out, treating myself and indulging in everything broken to better lift my already broken spirits.
I had the best roommate ever, joined a great sorority and managed to graduate in four years not loosing one credit. I had a stable job, nice for the area apartment, food on the table, clothes on my back and a car to get me around. What was I to be so sad about? I don’t know. Many things I guess: broken relationship with what I thought was the love of my life; too much pride with no where to let it out; the hate of a school I refused to quit; the comfort of only food and TV because no friends met me in the eyes long enough to know me; the town that made me feel so lost and completely on my own. I wasn’t ready for school like I thought I was. I actually went to a Christian, private, small, no one knows my name, school because I WANTED TO. I didn’t even try other schools.
By the time I surrendered myself to the school I was broken into several pieces with no help to put them back together. My mom was distracted with my sister and brother. My old friends were living the college life hundreds of miles from me. My best friend wouldn’t have me back and would only talk about his new girl friend. I felt totally left in the dark with no way to fix it except to just deal.
Sounds like a worthless story, I know, but what makes me tell you all that is I’m still hurting from that. Not that my college years still have a hold on me, but rather I developed some really hurtful habits in school that I want to shake. Like this eating and watching TV thing? Yeah bitch, you got to go. You’re making me gain weight and making me watch my muscles dissolve into nothing. That’s so sad to me. I’ve always been an athlete. I ran track competitively from seventh grade into the first semester of college. I dropped the team in November of my freshmen year because my body just couldn’t do it. I can remember running so hard that I thought my knees were going to give out. One time they did and I almost landed flat on my face.
I’ve read that from age 18-26 you start developing the habits you have for the rest of your life. Sure, they’re not permanent, but they become that much hard to either notice or get rid of. I don’t want my habits to develop me into a heavy TV watching, blindfolded Jelly Belly aficionado spending big money (not because I have it) kind of person.
I need to go back to the gym and start walking more. I love how I’m typing this and, yet, still not moving from my chair towards the door. Instead, I pick up one more chip before I close the bag. My Weight Watchers coach would be so proud of me. Oh yeah, did I tell you I did that in college, too? Yeah, if you’re going to follow one thing I say from this rambling blog, let it be don’t do the first “diet” I mentioned. Rather, jump on Weight Watchers if you have to. It helped, but unless you’re sticking to it, you’ll gain it right back.
I guess, in short, I’m just tired of wanting others to fill my time and get me motivated. I need to start running from the bad habits of my past towards the good habits of my skinny future. Is it’s motivating to me knowing that today was just a shity day, I always have tonight to do yoga and my dog loves me no matter how many times I tell her to get off the couch. Ahh, now that’s a warm moment.*
*Please note hopeful sarcasm here.
