No Shame

Because I am desperately trying to live above and beyond the shame spiral in which I have dwelled for most of my life, I am about to share something with all of you.  I am deeply disappointed in myself (which, I suppose, isn't much different being ashamed but I'll allow myself this, for now).  I really truly HATE quantifying weight based on a number on a scale but, such is life, and I'm going to do it.  I currently weigh 175 pounds.  Thud.  I am 5'6" (and, depending on the day, I'm told, 1/2, so I'll grant myself that as well).  If I felt good, was healthy and fit clothes well at 175, I truly believe I'd be okay with it.  But I, most definitely, do not.  I not only look but FEEL overweight, for me.

I have gained at least 10 pounds since being back in New York, if not 15, and I am not pleased about it.  I literally just tried on every pair of pants I own and put each pair that doesn't currently fit in my hall closet, which is good, in a way.  I fully believe that I WILL fit into them again.  I am not just going to sit around and bitch and moan and drown my sorrows in chips and chocolate the way I usually do.  (Gee, sensing a pattern here?  I sure am.) I despise exercise but I will figure out something I can tolerate, even if it's walking the chilly Long Island winter streets.

That is the key here.  I am going to change something I can.  Everyone, every last one of us, can put the Serenity Prayer into action in our daily lives and damn it, that is what I intend to do.  It startles me how relevant those words are to each human being on the planet, whether one is in recovery of some sort or not.

So, despite my gloomy beginning, I want to end this post on an uplifting note.  I CAN and WILL change my weight.  I WILL fit into those pants again, if not a smaller size.  I am not going to beat myself up about this (more than the little bit I already have, taunting myself aloud as each pair of pants went into the hall closet).  I am going to CHANGE.

I feel lighter already.

December

Rough time for me, December. It's hard to remember a time when December simply meant snow and vacation and Christmas and presents and my family the way I used to perceive it. Now there are so many more associations, new ones that have virtually obliterated the former.

I kind of dread December now and I hate that it has to be this way. I want to go back to that innocent carefree time it was in my youth. Although honestly, was it really so carefree? The more I ponder, the more I recall stressing myself out for most (if not all) of Christmas break about one term paper or another or whose house I'd be going to for Christmas dinner that year.

Of course, in retrospect, those were minuscule worries compared to the ones I face now like how will I get my mother through this, only her second Christmas without her son. He died on December 21st, Mom barely had time for it to register last year. Now, there is nothing but time for the reality to sink in. Then there's December 28, the fourteenth anniversary of my father's death, from which my mom has moved on in no way whatsoever.  This will be the first Christmas we have spent together since 2003 so it will be interesting, to say the least.

Rough time for me, December. I guess now I just wait and see.