About a month ago, the internet found me trying and failing to hold it all together. In that post, I talked about how everything was all cattywampus (while simultaneously admitting I had no grounds to complain about anything). I’m happy to report back one month later: I found my drill. But then I lost it again. Oh well.
Today, much has happened since that post and I’m also happy to report that things aren’t anywhere near in the state of disarray that they were then. However, for whatever reason, I still find myself trying and failing to hold it all together. I’m sure this condition won’t fully pass until we finally move. And then settle in. And then unpack that last box, sometime in late 2021. So until then, things will remain cattywampus to one degree or another.
The ongoing cattywampusness applies to many (if not all) areas in my life, but none more acutely than our most favoritest topic of all time: health and dieting.
I went an entire month or more without logging foods. (Unheard of.) I went nearly as long without a single weigh-in. (Waaaay unheard of.) I ate basically whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. (Okay, that’s quite heard of.) And the thing is: I couldn’t care less. If someone said, “Did you hear that a blade of grass standing in a field in Finland got bent?” I would say, “No, I did not hear about that. But I would definitely place that on my list of Things I Care About above my health.”
To be honest, the only silver lining in all that was the Not Caring part. Because caring about it would have made things a thousand times worse. Further, not caring gives special insight into one’s persona more than one might obtain otherwise. For example, I never realized it was possible to find the need to head to the pantry for a snack during the long thirty-second period while my dinner was warming up in the microwave.
So Now What?
It’s time for another Day One of course! Let’s see . . . where are we on those? Ah, here we are. This is Day One #118. My starting weight is: doesn’t matter. A while ago I stopped posting actual numbers because they’re only a distraction. Relative numbers mean much more than absolute numbers.
Relatively speaking, though, I’m twenty pounds over my lowest weight from November 2014. Ouch. But on the plus side, I’m somehow still where I was four years ago, during chemo. So I guess that’s two silver linings: four years later, I still haven’t Gained it All Back™.
Come to think of it, the third silver lining is how little I gained in the last month while all that not caring was going on. The first time I stepped on a scale (about a week and a half ago) I braced for the worst. And I was down a pound. Momentarily confused, I realized it was due to the fact that I’d been extremely active. Eighty hours of housework a week sure makes up for the see-food dieting. It’s only in the last week and a half when all that slacked off that I popped up a few pounds again.
My plan this time?
I have no idea what to do. After 117 earlier attempts one thing is perfectly clear: I have no idea what I’m doing.