If you have issues, or baggage, you may be offended by what you read here. I work through my self loathing of my own fat, and my own fat issues, and I’m told this comes across as loathing all fat people. That is simply not the case.

Here I talk about my issues and my findings, without political correctness. I am not concerned with your issues, or your baggage, or what you may take from this. The title is "My Journey".

This blog is not meant to inspire anyone. I take no responsibility for what you take away from here. You are here as a guest into my inner thoughts.


Sunday, January 27, 2008

Why do I need a title? They're hard to think of...

So, yesterday we went to Crystal's for an invitation making fest. Found out that Cindy had a successful week. YAY!

I spent the day with my nose in the computer trying to find different and unique ways to word an invitation and an RSVP. What I learned is to not volunteer anything I like (h-hyuk), and to just keep my nose down and do my job. I'll just say that I'm not meant for that environment, and if my people really loved me, they would not include me in them. It was an incredibly stressful way to spend an afternoon, and I wasn't even on craft detail! Shades of Micheals. Oh, the anxiety...

One of the reasons I was glad that I went is because I have a clearer idea of where Jeanette is at. Lost and overwhelmed. I'm going to sit down today and work out a schedule for her to follow. We can tweak it later, but I just want to give her something simple to get her started.

I'm going to base it on core, as I don't know what she weighs, so I cannot give her an accurate caloric intake.

Today I'm stressed because I'm beating myself up about the chinese food and chips I had last night. But here's the thing. I've made healthy choices ALL over the place, and CHOSE to take the evening off. So why the fuck do I berate myself? If this is truly a lifestyle, then I'm allowed to have treats, as long as I work them off, which I do. I have to find my mental balance.

It's all a part of the process and part of the journey. I'm so hard on myself. Too many years of justifying my way into cheesecake, bread, and deep fried cheesy goodness. Now that I've trained myself out of that, I beat the shit out of myself when I allow it.

I'll work it all out eventually. I refuse to deprive myself. Just as much as I refuse to be fat again.

So to end on a positive note... hmmm.

Five things I'm grateful for this weekend:

My family time with both my boys, a new friend of Dougs, and Steve over dinner last night.
My time with my girls over brunch, talking about our new healthy lifestyles.
My convo with Sheesh, knowing she is making healthier choices and taking her meds.
My husband who doesn't know I'm going to bully him into driving me to the grocery store cuz there's snow on the road.
My sister, whom I feel like I'm missing right now, cuz I just love her so much, and want to spend time with.


sesame said...

Once the snow is gone, I think a trip to the US is in order,

We can re-stock on healthy goodies and spend the day together.

sesame said...

You did great. I think maybe you had a reduced sense of humor and hightened sensitivity level b/c you hate crafts.

I'm glad you were there, rather than the alternative of doing it with everyone else and missing you.

Jo-Dee-Will-Succeed said...

Yeah, that's why I went... but to tell you the honest truth, it was way worse for me than I thought it would be, anxiety level wise. Inside I was doing the panic scream over and over. It was waaaaay to Michael's-esque for me.

Back to "what the fuck is wrong with me that crafty shit freaks me out to that degree".

Jo-Dee-Will-Succeed said...

And YA, i'm totally up for a trip to the US. Need more cheese. Plus, I know that this week, if we track, it's not going to be together, which is totally sucky. I'm feeling emotionally wimpy right now and needy, and slowing my pace to spend quality time isn't helping my fitness levels... then I beat myself up mentally for that. But I don't want to take MORE time from my family to have a run when I get home.

Dude... I'm a basketcase.