Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Day 24

That's how many days it's been since we broke up.

That's how many days I've been unable to stop eating sugar.

That's how many days I've been punishing my body with food because he broke my heart.

I didn't realize it until recently, I had been afraid to admit it, but I had fallen in love with him. It happened simply. The early days of infatuation turned into a comfortable friendship, more than friendship, love.

I loved him.

And there are (still) some days where I can't help buy cry because I miss him in my life.

I was driving the other day, a friend was letting me use their car, and burst into tears. I couldn't figure out how to work their Sirius radio. He came to mind. He has Sirius radio in his car, he would know how to change the channel. But I can't call him because he broke up with me. On Super Bowl Sunday. So I bawled as I drove down the road, because I couldn't change the station on the Sirius radio which reminded me of him, so I turned the whole darned thing off.

Just now I started crying again as I lay in bed reading and trying to fall asleep. I've started talking to other guys again. But only half-heartedly. I guess I'm not ready to move on yet.

But why, why, WHY do I keep punishing my body by eating food I don't want to eat, sneaking sweets I know will only make me feel worse? Because they are addicting. Because for so much of my previous life I used food to "comfort" me- it was better to feel a stomach ache from too much food or too many sweets than to feel emotional pain. Because I'm still learning to take care of myself in new ways.

And because a broken heart takes time to heal. Especially when you didn't earlier admit you were in love and it took you three weeks to admit that your heart had been broken.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

The Valentine's Day Grinch

I'm not celebrating Valentine's Day this year. That's not really any different from any year before. I've never celebrated Valentine's Day because I've never had someone to be my Valentine.

When asked by the room mom at school about the class Valentine's Party I said I didn't think we would have one. And we're not. It's not falling on a school day this year and it's not a Christian holiday so I didn't see the need to recognize it with a party. I also tried to rationalize it that we had a big week of tests this week and I wanted some normalcy to help the kids stay grounded. We've done some crafts, but we're not doing a party. I dubbed myself the Valentine's Day Grinch for cancelling the holiday for my class.

I kept telling people (and myself) that I've never been a big Valentine's Day person. I think I was starting to believe it, or I was fooling myself into believing that I thought that was true.

But as I sit here on the couch, listening to the Big Bang Theory, while trying to grade papers, and procrastinating by checking out men on Match.com, I realize this non-Valentine's Day attitude isn't really me. The truth is that I was really hoping to have a Valentine this year. And I'm now crying because this is a hard reality to face.

I wanted to celebrate his birthday with him. I wanted to celebrate Valentine's Day with him. Nothing big for either, but just to be with him and spend time together to continue getting to know each other better. I still sent him the personalized birthday present I'd ordered for him. But the Valentine's Day card I got for him and another "just because" present are still sitting out in plain sight. I have to pass them several times every day.

The last two weeks since we broke up have been hard. I still think about him often. I think of funny things and want to share with him. I think of eating pizza on National Pizza day and want to go to his favorite pizza place with him. I miss eating pizza and Thai food with him. I miss telling him funny things the kids at school did. I miss his company. I tried to tell myself that I miss his company but don't want him back. I'm not sure that's really true.

What I do know is true is that I'm still hurting and this Valentine's Day is probably going to be kinda sucky. (So, if you live nearby, can you help keep me distracted on Saturday?)

Monday, February 9, 2015

Mental Health Day

Today was a much needed day of rest. I had called my principal yesterday to let her know I needed a sick day. I don't like to take sick days unless I have to but today was a day to grant my heart and mind healing.

The Refiner's fire has been working on me
to repair me with pure gold.
I had a good morning sleeping in until 10 and then I headed to the gym hoping some endorphines would help boost my mood. It wasn't until about 20 minutes in to my cardio that I finally started to feel release of the things weighing me down. I felt a lightness and the clarity that had been missing for weeks. I started hearing the words in the songs I was listening to. Before they had just then background noise. Today I actually heard them clearly. I started started feeling reconnected. The music that touches my heart, the music that connects me to God, was getting through. 

I had been disconnected for days, weeks even, but today I reconnected. Yesterday, I didn't want to go to church. Not even for communion. Today, I wish there was somewhere I could go to receive the Lord's supper- RIGHT NOW. I'm craving that Sacrament and the fellowship with other believers- I'd even be ok with the horrible (and I mean HORRIBLE) wine that my church uses, just so I could have a taste of that forgiveness and peace from God. 

Thank you, Lord, for healing, rest, and peace. Thank you for restoration.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

The Mirror That Changed My Perspective

I went shopping this afternoon for new blue jeans. I only have two pairs and wanted a third. Fortunately, Old Navy is having a sale on jeans right now and I like the way theirs fit me so I headed over to try on jeans this afternoon.

I grabbed some 10's off the shelf, and just for the heck of it I grabbed some 8's, too, you know, just in case. The 10's fit, not too snugly, as I knew they would. With a small hope, I decided to go for the 8's. I put one foot in and then the other, afraid to breathe as I pulled them up. I was delighted to discover that they buttoned and zipped easily. Yes, easily!

But could I sit? And how did they make my butt look? And would my tummy look poochy in them?

Yes, good, and no. I could sit, my butt looked good, and no, my tummy didn't look poochy.

Ok, maybe a little poochy. I tried looking at myself in the dressing room mirror. I was skeptical. So I tried the three-way mirror in the hallway of the dressing rooms. Was that really me? Did I really look like that?

Ok, so I had also tried on a sweater, because why not. And what I saw in the dressing room as major back fat and muffin top, didn't look so bad in the better-lit three-way mirror. In fact, I looked pretty cute. Was that really me? I couldn't help but stare at myself.

Thankfully there was no one around, so I continued to examine myself from all the angles standing in the mirror. There also happened to be bench nearby so I checked out my seated view. My belly, which I still saw as enormously fat, was not so bad. Actually, it was pretty small. There is a slight roll, but my waist is so tiny now that the little roll really is a little roll. Is this really me?

Yes, it really is me and I look fabulous. I'm still having a hard time accepting that this body is mine and that it looks so good. I don't need others to tell me; I need me to see it, believe it, and reaffirm it for myself.

I look good.

I look good!

I Look Good!!!

Made in HIS Image

Dear Loved One,

It's been some time since we've talked. After our last conversation on the phone, I was very hurt. You went on and on about how beautiful I was NOW and about how I shouldn't get fat again. The unspoken message I heard was that I wasn't acceptable before and that your value of me is conditional based upon my physical beauty.

In the eyes of my Heavenly Father, the King of Kings, I am beautiful not because of how I look but because of whose I am. I am the daughter of the King, made in His image and He is perfect. His love for me is unconditional.

I know we are humans and are therefore imperfect people, but I hope we can try to love each other more like God loves us. I forgive you for what was said, but the words have left a mark. I'm feeling afraid to talk to you again because the last time we spoke it wasn't a safe conversation. I'm not sure what it will take to make it feel safe to talk t you again, but I think a good start would be to not talk about weight loss for a while.


Thursday, February 5, 2015


I'll be the wisest woman alive soon.
Why do I do this to myself? Do I love to be miserable? I ate way too much tonight at dinner. We went to Texas Roadhouse, which starts you with those lovely little hot rolls and honey cinnamon butter. I promptly ate two, I think before I even placed my order. I am slightly comforted by the fact that it was a fairly healthy dinner: medium cooked 6 oz steak with sauteed onions and mushrooms on top, green beans, and a plain baked potato. Water to drink. No appetizers. Still, it was more than I needed, and yet I topped it off with one more roll with butter before leaving.

Ugh. I'm paying for it now. I tried to "balance" things out by doing a workout this evening. I don't think it did much good because I felt so lousy I could only do a slow walk for 25 minutes; half as fast and half the time of my normal workouts.

To add to my misery I decided to text the guy who just dumped me, just to wish him a happy birthday and see if he got my present. He got it and said it was very sweet (a personalized beer tap). Glad he got it. He also got sick for his birthday. Part of me wishes I could be happy and feel self-righteous that he's sick and miserable on his birthday. Mostly I'm just too nice to be petty. I'd rather make myself miserable than wish it on him.

Maybe that's why I overate at dinner. (No maybe about it, it definitely is why I overate at dinner.) If I'm going to be miserable it's better(?) to feel too full from a good dinner than to be crying over a guy who dumped me via text. A guy who isn't romantic and doesn't really feel emotions, but doesn't feel romantic feelings for me. A guy who has been steady dating me for three months.

Everyone keeps saying I'm better off and that he didn't deserve me. Everyone keeps saying I'll meet someone better. Everyone keeps saying he's an idiot. That may be true, but I'm not there yet folks. I've been trying to hold it together all week, trying to stay focused at work and positive around others, but inside the wounds are still pretty raw. I almost made it all day today and Tuesday without crying, almost. I cried myself to sleep Tuesday night. I'm crying now as I type this. Monday and Wednesday started the day with tears but then got better. I know it will get better. I know I won't cry over him forever. But sometimes I feel so sick to my stomach with ache over the suddenness of this unexpected loss. I believe it will get better. I know this won't last forever, but right now this is where I am.

I am hurting.
I am mourning the loss of a man who possessed some wonderful qualities that I didn't even know I so strongly desired in a relationship partner.
I'm mourning the loss of a friend whom I always felt safe with.
I'm mourning the loss of a partner who cheered me up when I was sad and made me laugh when I was stressed.
I'm mourning the loss of someone who put up with my crazies.
I'm mourning the fun adventures we were going to have together: rock wall climbing, shooting, flying in his plane.
I'm mourning the quiet nights snuggling with him and his dog on the couch watching movies.
I'm mourning the loss of someone wiser and more experienced and more knowledgeable to help me shop for a new car.

I am hurting and it's ok to cry.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

I *Think* I May Be Stressed

I think I may be stressed.

Yah, I'm pretty sure I am. Last month was rough. There was a lot going on at school: Epiphany program which included daytime practices and an evening performance, National Lutheran Schools Week which included special dress-up days and some special events, Social Studies fair which included special classroom activities and an evening event, and that's just the work-related stuff.

I do try to have a life outside of school, though sometimes that's hard. We teachers take home papers to grade and lessons to plan, so even when the end of the day bell rings we aren't actually done with work. We could spend several hours a night on those two things alone, if we let ourselves.

I also try to take care of myself physically by cooking more at home and exercising regularly. Last month that was kind of sketchy, though by some miracle of miracles I finally managed to hit the 100 pound  mark on the last day of the month.

I know I didn't eat as well as I could have. My upset stomach most of the month and red spots currently residing on my face are proof of that. After a year of focusing on taking care of myself and noticing how my body feels in response to what I eat and the exercise I get, you'd think I'd have learned by now.

Yet here I am today, blogging about how stressed I am. I feel crappy. Yesterday I got up and weighed in and was riding a high for a few hours after discovering that I'd finally hit the 100 pound mark. So I treated myself to a lunch at Chipotle and ate 1100 calories which made me feel awful. To top that off, I ate 4 pieces of carb-loaded, greasy pizza for dinner. I don't think I had a single fruit or vegetable yesterday, except for a few dismal slivers of green pepper on the supreme supreme pizza and boy am I feeling it today.

I woke up exhausted, despite getting about 10 hours of sleep. I'm pretty sure it's a combination of having had a busy, long week last week at the end of a long month AND not eating well yesterday. So how do I feel this morning?

I'm slightly freaking out. Friday my date was great and things seemed back to normal. Today, the scale says I'm 2.3 pounds heavier than I was yesterday morning so I'm feeling bloated and uncomfortable in my own skin and questioning my relationship with the guy. The big question: Is he seeing anyone else and do I want to ask? Because if the answer is yes, than I may want to stay in my blissfully ignorant state. If the answer is no then life can go on as before.

I feel like crawling into a cave today and hiding, after I workout, of course. A cave where I can eat vegetables and fruit to hopefully make my tummy feel better again. But it's Super Bowl Sunday and my team is playing. I've been invited to a party. I know I'll have a good time watching the game, but I also know there will be lots of food. I need a plan, but I'm just feeling so drained I don't want to. Would it be weird to show up with a little lunch bag full of food for just me to eat? You know, healthy stuff so I know there are options I'll feel good about. That might be the plan, or part of the plan.

I hear my phone chirping in the other room, I think the guy responded to an earlier question. Now, do I want to ask the big question or wait until I'm feeling better about myself?.... I think I'll wait. That may be slightly chicken of me, but I also know that in my current state it would probably result in some emotional eating and I don't want to do emotional eating so this is taking care of myself.

Yep, I'm stressed. Football. Relationship. Work. Food. Lack of sleep. Definitely stressed. Time to go do some self-care in the fitness center.