No Cookies Needed

It had barely just started again and now it's over.

First, it was bad timing a year ago. Now, it's the distance. I love him and he loves me, but there's apparently just too many obstacles in our way.

No cookies needed

I'm tempted to go back to my old habits of finding comfort in food. I want chocolate! Or do I? My stomach is finally flat (or flatter than it has been in weeks while bloated). I'm feeling comfortable in my own skin - even naked. I feel slim and strong. Do I really want to go back to my old habits of finding comfort in food? NO! So I  need to find a substitute.

Exercise. Thank goodness it was also workout Monday with my trainer. I moved from sad that he called it off, to pissed off that he wasn't wiling to pursue me. I'm worth it. I'm a darned good catch. I'm freaking awesome! Darn him for not wanting it enough. Not wanting me enough.

So I took action.
I removed the electronic copies of the poems we'd written to each other.
I deleted our text chain and our messenger chat.
I deleted him from my contacts.
Swiftly. Like ripping off a bandaid.

I'm usually loyal to a fault, to a point where I hurt myself, but this time I don't want to do that. I've done enough of that in the past and this time I'm flipping the switch. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.

But I don't feel shame, because I wanted it too. I initiated it, but he responded. But given his reason for not being able to pursue a relationship, perhaps he shouldn't have responded in the first place. But at least I've learned a lesson - don't hold on to the hurt.

I haven't cried since Monday afternoon.  I got a little sad on Thursday night during my Financial Peace class because it reminded me of a recent conversation with him. But I kept my chin up and reminded myself this wasn't about him, this was about me. I'd been feeling pumped about this class and I wasn't going to let him steal my joy.

This is about me feeling good about myself. And yah, I don't need sugary sweets to do that. I'm taking care of me and that feels great! I'm finding comfort in taking care of myself, support and love from my friends, and some inspirational words on the internet. I'm keeping myself open to love.

 

The Tiger and The Dove

This is a post I wrote a few months ago but wasn't ready to publish. It's now time to share.

I was in love. The relationship ended. My heart ached for a long while because it was the first time I experienced real, unconditional love from a man; something I've longed for my whole life. And just as quickly as it came into my life, it was gone again. And there was little explanation as to why or what had happened. Sometimes I still wonder where my tiger went.

Dear Tiger,

I wish I knew what happened to make your love change. Three weeks ago you loved me and I was your dove. Now there's only silence.

You loved me from the start. It took me a little longer. I believed in your love. I believed in you. Now you're gone.

I wish I knew why. I wish I could go back and undo what I did wrong. I wish I could show you how I've changed, that I've learned from my mistakes.

But you're gone. You've disappeared like a ghost.

Now I'm left with the memory of your love, your smile, your gentle touch, shared prayers, your gentle and tender heart, your compassion and generosity, and our time together to make me smile. I'm left with distance, no reply, lack of communication, and wondering what happened which makes my heart ache and tears fall.

It seems you've left me so I'm letting you go. Good bye, my Tiger.

But I believe in second chances. I believe in a God who forgives and gives me second, third, fourth, multiple chances every time I fall and fail; He helps me back up. I believe in Love. God is love. I believe in forgiveness, learning from past mistakes, and moving on.

If you come to a place where you want a second chance...

Love,

Your Dove

Firework
You came shooting into my life
Things changed fast
You made things happen. A whirlwind. An explosion.
Our heads were spinning and hearts pumping.

Life stepped in to slow us down .
We got scared. We'd moved so fast.

We drifted apart
to nothing.
No words anymore.
Empty space. Silence. Longing. Heartache.

Good bye, my Tiger
Your Dove is wounded.

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.

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?)

Miserable

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.

Reality Check

I stepped on the scale this morning. The numbers reflected what I knew was true. Despite the extra exercise I'd done on Saturday, I had eaten a lot of crap on Sunday and the scale had gone up. Fortunately (?), this wasn't my official weigh in day, so I didn't have to enter it into record. It was just a reality check. That, and the red bumps on my face are the evidence that I have not been eating well for several days and so my body was reflecting that.

Determined to not go on my date on Saturday feeling bloated or with red bumps on my face, I planned my food for the day. I also determined that I was going to be extra focused on eating well, logging everything, and continuing the good exercise routine I'd gotten back into last week.

I did well today, planning out my lunch and prepacking it the night before really helped. This morning all I had to do was pull my lunch bag out of the fridge and I was set with my morning snack, lunch, and afternoon snack. On the way to work I logged all the food I was planning to eat and what I'd eaten for breakfast and I was 100 calories under my goal for the day. Knowing I might have time to exercise after work before going to the movie I knew I'd be ok to have/take with me, a light, healthy snack to eat at the movie theater if I got hungry.

When I got home from work today I realized that I didn't have as much time to exercise before the move (and check the mail, pick up a package, eat dinner, and change my clothes), so I decided to skip the workout, secure in the knowledge that I'd already accounted for all my food today and I had room to spare so I didn't need to work out in order to enjoy dinner guilt-free.

Everything changed after I picked up my packages.

I was only expecting a box of books that I'd ordered. Instead, there was a second package. As I read my address and recognized the handwriting, I lost my appetite and started to feel upset. As I walked back to my apartment, I tried very hard to not cry but all was lost once I entered the safety of my home. I started crying and immediately wanted cookies, even though I was no longer hungry.

Not ready to deal with the package's contents or the sender, I stuck it in our spare bedroom that I rarely enter, knowing it would stay there safely and unnoticed until I was ready to deal with it later (whenever that might be).

I steeled myself to stick with the healthy dinner that I had planned (yummy leftover chili). "No cookies- remember your upcoming date!" I told myself. That got me through the process of heating it in the microwave. As I started to dry the tears I found my appetite return.

As I finished my dinner I reflected on how much my feelings hand changed in the past 30 minutes and what an effect it had on my appetite and cravings. I had come home hungry and looking forward to my yummy leftover chili, but after opening the mail and seeing a package that I'd forgotten was coming I'd lost my appetite and my cravings for cookies (sweets) were running rampant. I won this battle, the war will still continue as I rewire my brain and how I respond to emotions.

Deep breath. You can do it, girl.