This was written yesterday…
I have a shit-ton of radical acceptance to practice. I am having a hard time accepting my current activity level. I have to walk a lot (I mean A LOT) at work and at the end of the day, my legs hurt, my feet are swollen and aching, and my back is killing me. It’s a lot of work hauling all this weight around, I realize, but DAMN. In the past, I have always used walking as my exercise and as my stress relief, and now I am unable/unwilling/in.too.much.pain to walk when I get off work. That stresses me out, totally and completely.
I think it stresses me out for a lot of reasons. After having my millionth anxiety attack of the week while at the dog park with Dr. Love and Wizzah, I packed things in and went to Mom’s. Bottom line — I want every single thing in my life to be perfect RIGHT FUCKING NOW. Not in a few months, a year, a couple of weeks. Right now.
If I were at my “perfect” size, I would weigh literally half as much as I do now. That would still put me above my healthy BMI. I look at that and it’s so friggin overwhelming. I want it to happen yesterday. Yes, all the walking at work, the eating Lean Cuisines and 101-Different-Ways-to-Eat-Chicken, the avoiding fast food will take it off eventually.
And then I went and ate dinner, never to return to my computer…
Today was a much better day than yesterday. Today, I had perspective. I had the wise words of QoB and the Big Dog. I had some time to think about things, some time to blog about things.
It depends on the day how I feel about my exercise/weight situation. After a day like today, knowing what I know now, walking as much as I walked today and BEING MINDFUL of exactly how much and how fast I was walking…I feel pretty good. That and I feel like I have handled some rather awkward situations that have come up today in a way that is indicative of how I like to think of myself — strong, proud, good work ethic, not letting the day-to-day BULLSHIT and petty people get in my way, having the ability to control how I react to others and not letting others dictate how I will react.
My position at work is strange. I am employed by the contract agency yet work almost exclusively with the Dept. of Corrections. I said something to the MH secretary the other day about how it’s strange and she says, “well you could always come over and have lunch with us.” Okay, so yes, I suppose I could. But really, it’s uncomfortable. I don’t know anything about any of what they are talking about, and they’re not really willing to let me in. I am “THE NEW GIRL.” They’re all still plotting out my strengths and weaknesses and how they will exploit them whether or not I will be the girl that they want to invite to play bingo on Thursday nights.
And I spend a lot of time thinking about this rather awkward situation and don’t do much about it, other than be as friendly as possible. It’s hard to go over there and not really have anyone to chat up, but I am not going to go out of my way to eat lunch over there every day just so they stop looking at me like I have an alien coming out of my forehead everytime I open my mouth.
I think a lot of the problem is that I am the most “undereducated” person there, if you don’t count the activity therapist — but hey, she is a THERAPIST, so she’s got something going for her. Hehe. When I expressed my love for this job, for putting things together and all of the coordinating and phone calls and emailing and organizing messes, she told me that the last person quit because she wanted to do something more CLINICAL. Like drive around drug icted felons in my personal vehicle all week and take them to Walmart? Because that’s exactly what you can do with only a bachelor’s degree in psychology. That’s about as “clinical” as it gets. Yes, there is all the bossing around of other people and the micromanagement of their lives and the come-to-Jesus lectures that fall on deaf ears. Oh yeah, and you can be on-call 24/7/365 and not get paid any extra for it. And yes, you do have to take calls on Christmas, or on the day of your grandfather’s funeral service and make five additional calls so that you don’t have to leave graveside to hospitalize a meth freak.
And I just realized that I have FINALLY let go of the desire to be a case manager, to do bachelor’s level clinical work. Please Dear God, please let me just shoot off emails and talk on the phone all day AND GET PAID FOR IT.
Now for some white boy cracka rap. I still love it. 🙂
Eminem, Lose Yourself