I'm not quite certain where I got the idea that adopting an anthem would grant me super powers, making me immune to the everyday stress, anxiety, and failures that are part of the normal human condition. In fact, it wasn't until this week that I realized how fallible I am – a phenomenon that occurred around the same time I traded my invisible jet and cape for a pointy hat and broomstick.
Did I relapse and should all over myself? Unclear. Did I find myself overwhelmed by the demands that adult life placed on me? Definitely. I recognize that most grown-ups are able to do things like fill their gas tanks; vacuum their carpets; grocery shop; renew their passports; and hold down a job without bursting into tears or randomly punching strangers in the gonads. Congratulations, functional adults. Your example merely ensures that my subterranean self-esteem will remain at record low levels.
I knew I was in trouble when I succumbed to a full blown temper tantrum a few days ago. What should have been a simple misunderstanding got really personal, really fast and feelings got hurt all over the place. This was not the place to give it all I've got, and yet there I was, intentionally inflicting wounds with my words and marinating in a stew of my own self-pity. I even cried real tears. This is remarkable because I am one of those annoying people who cries only during Lifetime movies; funerals; and when something heavy gets dropped on them. I occasionally tear up from rage, but I can count on one hand the number of sobfests I've experienced in the past five years. After the tears dried, apologies were offered, and we reached détente, I did should on myself. I still felt really ragged, vulnerable, and raw – but instead of spending any time trying to figure out why or feeling my feelings, I decided that I should get over it. Care to guess how well that worked out?
I'm still rocking my anthem – but I now recognize that it's an anthem, not a shield. And even an anthem can have a dark side. For those keeping score, here's how I fared:
Give In: there is wisdom in the Serenity Prayer, and I decided to accept the things I cannot change by giving in, sucking it up, and getting them done. Renewing my passport is one of those "should" that's been nagging at me for months, so I finally made time to make it happen. Because I am irony's bitch, when I did finally head out to renew my passport, I learned that this process is largely handled by US Mail now – so there was not a government office willing to assist me in my pursuit. I did manage to get some unattractive photos taken, and I am pleased to report that my passport renewal is now in the mail, along with a check for $110. Italy – I am coming for you in about 170 days.
I also gave in on the professional front. My employer requires everyone in my position to write and present a paper reflecting how they have demonstrated the functional competencies required in the role within the first three years of employment. No one enjoys this process and there is a lot of teeth gnashing and whining and complaining – but everyone manages to get it done. My paper is due in about ten days and I haven't made a lot of progress on it. I've tried – I really have – but it's hard to write and worse, it's hard to find the time to write it. Do I want to think about work in my precious free time? Not really. But I need to get over it, and so I am giving in. I have 20% of the paper written and I am holding myself accountable for getting it to 80% by next weekend. Pretty sure this means I'll continue my reign of terror as the wicked witch of Golden Valley for the foreseeable future.
Give Up: I gave up on my vow to stay off the scale until February 1st. Huge mistake. HUGE. I convinced myself that I was doing such an excellent job logging my food in MyFitnessPal; religiously attending all scheduled workouts with Big Bad Trainer; and even squeezing a cardio session in here and there. I told myself, "Self," I said, "Obviously the scale will reflect your commitment to giving it all you've got. Get on there and let's see how amazing you are!"
A few observations: one, I have not yet figured out how to lose weight while I sleep; two, it's going to take more than two weeks of effort to reflect a meaningful difference on the scale or in how my pants fit; three, I should stick to my guns. Had I waited until February to step on the scale, I could have prevented this week's self-flagellation. By the way – I do know that it's asinine to define my self-worth by those three numbers on the scale, but dealing with that demon falls squarely into the category of something I should do, and thus, is off the table for the time being.
Giving It All I've Got: I haven't missed a beat on MyFitnessPal all year. I've logged everything, even when I've had red wine for dinner or when I've inhaled an entire bag of microwave popcorn as a "snack". This is probably the longest streak of food journaling I've ever achieved, and moreover, the most honest. I'm intentional about what I eat (most of the time) and I'm making a valiant effort to stay under my calorie and fat goals each day. Frankly, I think I'm doing an awesome job and perhaps MyFitnessPal needs to send a memo to my damn scale to let it know how hard I'm working.
In other news, I have been a nail biter most of my life. Not only do I bite, but I pick at my nails and my cuticles. My fingertips often look as if I invited a colony of termites to snack on them. I decided to give "not eating my own flesh" all I've got with some successful results. I've caught myself unconsciously placing a fingertip near my teeth and I've managed to stop before doing any damage. In fact, my hands almost look human now so I am treating myself to a manicure today to celebrate my success.
I'm still conducting my pyramid marketing experiment with Thrive supplements. Since I had the unfortunate incident with my scale recently, I'm less thrilled but committed to completing the rest of my eight week experience.
Last but not least, I'm still writing – a sign that I'm still giving it all I've got. And that is enough.
© 2015 Princess D
No comments:
Post a Comment