Okay, Life, I Get It

I shouldn't take crap for granted.

But really. I know that summer had been fairly uneventful. There was no need to throw every single trick you had, good and bad, at me.

Seriously, though. This past week has been a whirlwind of emotions. My poor heart and head can't take it.

(I know this post is the award winner for "vague as hell post of the year", and I apologize for that. But honestly? Don't care. Need to rage a tad.)

Weight a Minute...This Again?

By my oh-so-clever title, you might have guessed that this post is about weight loss.
If you didn't, well...surprise!

So, for about a week now, I've been counting my calories again. And you know how stubborn you can get about not doing something because you know it will be hard?
Yeah, that's counting calories for me.

I know that monitoring my food intake will help with my weight loss. It makes perfect sense logically. It's the not-predictable factors that usually leave me questioning.
And I know my weight loss shouldn't be tied into focusing on the number. But honestly? I need something to track it.

So, last weekend (the holiday weekend) I set a goal of losing about 5 pounds by my beach trip weekend, so to be about 161.5 for Aug 8. I thought that was a feasible goal, allowing upcoming known big meals to be had without hindering me.
After a week? I'm already down to 163.1, leaving me 3.5 weeks to lose 1.6 pounds. Thankfully, I had a stretch goal of 160 in mind when I made the original goal, so we might have to try for that.

It's strange. Even though I should be using this to motivate myself more, that voice in the back of my mind is rearing its ugly head. It says This is just water weight...you're gonna plateau soon...you'll go back up.

The fact that I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop when it comes to losing weight is just indicative of how effective that nasty voice is with me. I'm used to failing when it comes to this.

Which, overall, doesn't make sense. At my largest, I was 215. Now, here I am, 50 whole pounds smaller, and I still can't tell myself that I can do this. Even after I gained 20 of that 50 back, and lost it again.

And trying to explain this mindset to someone who has never had to go through it is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I can't explain it.

Ashes to Ashes

So, Friday's quick update was right. My grandmother passed away Saturday afternoon.

The emotions are hitting me in spurts. After my dad's call, I really broke down, even though I was expecting it. And yesterday, I was looking at photos (not the smartest thing I've ever done) and just kind of started to cry.

Brett's been really great with comforting me. It actually worked out pretty much perfectly--he's on his man-strul cycle right now (aka, he's emotional), so he's been very huggy. Just what I need :)

I know she's much happier now. My PawPaw died almost 2 years ago (Aug. 2012), and she was a wreck. They'd been married for 63 years when he went. He was the one to cook and take care of her, because her eyesight wasn't good. And after he was gone, it wasn't the same having people come in to keep her company during the day, or for her daughters to stay at night.

My mind, of course, wants to skim over what's going on right now, so I'm thinking of what happens next. What happens to the house? I want it to stay in the family, but there's no one I can think of who really needs the house. What about all the stuff there? (and there's a shit-ton, I'm telling you) And because I live so far away, will I get anything to remember them by besides my memories? Then I start to feel selfish...

I'm just completely done with thinking about it. Focusing on other things until I get there. I will be immersed in it all then, so trying to relax now.

17 (+4): Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow


I am starting this post at 8:24 am. According to last night’s forecast, it is supposed to be snowing right now. Since I used the word “supposed”, obviously it is not. Yet.

The time for the snow to start is about 9:45 am. We shall see.

Snow is still a novel thing to me. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve lived the majority of my life in the Deep South, where snow is usually only seen on TV, in snowglobes, and in a snowcone. (Haha, see what I did there?) When there’s even a sprinkling of snow, people go nuts.
Case in point? December 2008. Baton Rouge actually got about an inch of snow, in the wee morning hours of 6-7. It was during Thursday during finals weeks, so a fair amount of students were up (because they had never gone to sleep). I had, because I was done with exams. I remember waking up, and looking outside, and feeling that sense of childlike wonder as the crystal flakes on the ground. I ending up having to go outside for something I hadn’t planned, so I did get to walk through it some. For the most part though, it was slush/watery dredge by noon.
While in England, I encountered snow, and it was nice. I mostly enjoyed the sight of it and walked around, taking in the scenery.
There was another time it snowed in Baton Rouge, in December of 2009. There wasn’t much, but it was fun enough to run around in.

Last year though. Last year, in the beginning of March, there are a large snowstorm that left feet of the stuff on the ground. FEET. Brett and I went outside and played around in it some. Here are pictures for proof:

Outside the house
Brett



I feel this picture sums me up pretty well.

I’m glad that I still find snow new and exciting, each time it falls. It makes me feel like a kid, which I something I sorely need.

Ever since I’ve moved to Virginia, and tried to find a good “big person” job, I feel that I’m aging faster than usual. I see my life as running by, and I freak out internally, because I know there’s so many things I want to do and need to get better at and try and accomplish and my brain goes off into paranoia mode and…unless I distract myself? It’ll continue until doomsday.
When I get those moments where I lose all sense of what has been and what will or might be, and just focus on the now, like a child, I cherish them. I grab tight and hold on, hoping that spark will keep me ignited enough to where the dark cloud of “being an adult” doesn’t seem so bleak. While I know that there are good things that come with growing older, I’m at that point where I want to hit pause on aging and just be for a while. But I can’t.
It’s the moments like a good snow that light that spark inside, that remind me of the bright-eyed child still active inside. Like a ridiculously goofy joke that doesn’t make sense at all, but gets me crying by the end. Like going on a long memory laden story with minute details that I haven’t thought about in a while but still can remember precisely. Like a weekend morning with nothing planned, and those first few moments of having the entire day before me.
So I’ll hold on to my snow days and such, because they bring a little brightness into my life.
It’s currently 9:42, and it’s been light snowing for about 20 minutes or so now. Bring on the precipitation!

Day 6: Riding the Rollercoaster--My Weight-Loss Journey (Pt. 2)

[If you haven't read Pt. 1, there you go, hyperlinked and everything.]

So, after getting back to about my high school graduation weight, I wanted to keep losing. And once Fall '09 rolled around, I was fairly good about losing steadily, just by not being a complete bum and watching my food intake.Well, as much as I could with a Taco Bell open late on campus within a 5 minute walking distance. And it continued into the following spring and summer. That summer was really crazy. I was eating sandwiches from home a lot, working out at least 3 days a week. I got down to about 170 at the beginning of my senior undergrad year. It stagnated that fall, but spring rolled around, and I managed to get to 160 by graduation, a loss that was kickstarted by my first attempt at actually counting the calories going into my body and the calories I was burning.

During all this time, it was a struggle. As I talked about before, I never really knew portion control. So when I started counting my calories for the first time, and saw how much I was really eating? Well, I felt embarrassed at the number. But the inverse became true as well--when I tried to eat within my budgeted amount, I felt like I was starving myself. I had to learn how deal with hunger pains. To not eat every time I felt the slightest but hungry. After being raised in a household where my parents had taught me to clean my plate, it was hard stopping.

But somehow, I managed to do it. And I felt awesome. Brett had been weight training with me (I did both cardio and weights during my workouts), so he had gained muscle mass, which had put him above 150. It felt great being within ten pounds of someone who was always so skinny. Disclaimer: I know that our respective ideal weights will be different, and that at 160, I still had a long way to go, but the small amount between us at that moment? Well, I would be lying if I didn't say that I didn't feel splendid.

Then grad school started.

To say that grad school derailed me off the tracks would me a major understatement. I was worried about not screwing up these kids, worried about my assignments for classes, worried about work, stressed to the max by my action research project, missing my boy like whoa [long-distance relationships suck, btw], and dealing with less than ideal living situations (let’s just say that we all were bad roommates to each other, and leave it at that). The only thing that would calm me down was a good Skype conversation with Brett, babysitting my favorite little girls, hanging out and not talking about school, and eating a nice, pre-made meal.
I ate a lot of take-out over those 12 months—some choices were better than others, but most were bad. The worst choice was hardly working out at all.

After graduating and moving to VA, I finally was able to stop and weight myself. I tipped in at 180 again.
While I have managed to lose the grad school weight, it’s still a major struggle. I do well, give my leniency, and then I’ll go up, feel bad, and go up, and down….you get the point.

I’m still on this crazy ride that is losing weight, because I want to look at myself in the mirror, and not make excuse for what I see. To feel comfortable in clothes that are more snug on my body. To match the me I see in my head. To like the physical as much as I like the person inside.

Day 5: The Scales of Self-Esteem--My Weight Loss Journey (Part 1)


Just finished my work-out, so I figure that I can talk about that. My weight-loss journey, that is.

Let’s start off this post with a fun fact: I actually was my mother’s smallest baby, weighing in at 6 lb. and some odd ounces. This was mostly due to her having pneumonia less than a month before I was born. So I didn’t stay small for long—she still says I was her butterball, because I plumped up quick. Though like most toddlers, I lost some baby fat. From about age 5 to age 8, I was a normal size. Probably between 8 and 9 was when I really just outgrew my peers weight-wise. I remember in 5th grade (so about 11 years old) a classmate of mine was messing around, and pushed on the top of my desk. Normally, that makes it where the desk set goes up in the air. Since I was larger, it took more force. I still remember her response: “What do you weight, like 100 lbs?” And I know she didn’t mean to, but it hurt, mainly because I was 100 lbs. By the beginning of 7th grade, I was about 120 lbs.

I continued to gain weight as I grew older, mainly because I didn’t know portion control. When we went to McDonald’s, I was getting adult meals as young as 10 years old. I often ate multiple servings at meals. I drank Coke and soda pretty much every day. So it’s no surprise that I was pushing 185, 190 when I graduated high school.

My weight was a big factor on my self-esteem, especially in high school. I played sports and would constantly here my teammates saying, “I’m so fat, ugh”, as they looked in the mirror at their 130 lbs bodies. On one of my more snarky days, I remember that a girl said she was as big as a planet, when she was clearly not. I muttered, “If you’re a planet, I’m a universe.” Part of me was jealous, but another part of me was glad I wasn’t deluded about my size. I knew I was overweight—I just wasn’t sure if I could ever do anything about it.

Flash forward to first semester of sophomore year in college. I’d been dating Brett for a while, so he knew about my self-esteem issues and tried to help motivate me. It wasn’t that effective, to be blunt. By January of 2009 as I went off to England for a semester abroad, I was about 215. But there, something clicked. I was homesick, it was cold, I didn’t like the way I looked…so, I started just dancing around my room in the flat. Not even like Zumba dancing, just moving to music for some time. And because of money, I wasn’t eating a huge amount, and some days, when I didn’t leave my room, I just didn’t get as hungry. So I lost 20 lbs by the beginning of May.

So, tomorrow, I’ll continue with part two of my weight-loss journey. And it’s definitely filled with ups and downs, I guarantee you that.