First I am going to start out admitting that I'm not really sure what my purpose of this blog is. It varies from day to day, but I think I want to tell my story. Better yet I feel like I need to tell my story, get it out for myself so that I can process and move forward. Over the past 40 years I have pushed down a lot and it is fighting to get out and I can't keep it bottled up forever. It's like a coke that has been shaken in a paint shaker. So I'll work to slowly turn the cap hoping to avoid the inevitable explosion by letting the pressure out a little at a time.
Back to the subject at hand. I woke up this morning with a hangover, funny thing is I don't drink. I didn't drink yesterday, however I did partake of a twisty bread stick and a mini Chicken Alfredo pizza from the Pizza Factory, a chocolate chip cookie dough cookie from the Sweet Tooth Fairy and a bowl of cookies & cream ice cream. I totally had a carb and sugar induced hangover. When I say I don't drink, it doesn't mean that I have never drank, I just haven't for many years, so I know what a hangover feels like. This was as bad as any alcohol induced hangover with a side of guilt for treating my body so poorly. I knew when I was eating the cookie travelling down I-15 that it wasn't my best idea, especially after the carb overload at the Pizza Factory, but I totally enjoyed every last scrumptious bite. I didn't know that my stepmom would be doling out a bowl of another of my food weaknesses while we watched "America's got Talent"
What I do know is that I have issues with my body, and for the most part I don't treat it with love and respect. I take advantage of the fact that I am for the most part healthy (as far as I know). I don't take care to fuel it with things that will make it strong and happy. I partake of things that taste good in the moment but carry no value after that. I've heard time and time again that nutrition is 80% of weight issues and yet I figure if I buy another pair of capri's to work out in, I'll be well on my way to having a positive body image. I live the lie that I work off more than I take in because I took a walk this morning. Not to negate the fact that I am at least moving my ass, but that doesn't make up for the garbage I am putting in my mouth. I know what I need to do, at least I think I do, but I am afraid. I'm afraid to try, afraid of failure, afraid to change, so I remain stuck. Stuck in a constant battle with my self love and self loathing, understanding and disgust, patience and impatience.
Fortunately the universe is putting information in my life to at least give myself a break, to know I'm not alone in this struggle and to give me some guidance on how to get my ass unstuck. I am tired of the struggle and ready to surrender. Not to live a life where I feel disgust for my being, but to be grateful that I have a being, grateful I wake up everyday, grateful I can move and make choices. To find love for myself, something that for a good portion of 40 years has been buried deep. And lastly to not wake up to another morning that I feel like shit!
