Building Rome, Week 23: Gettin’ Ready to Get Ready

I have severe procrastination problems.  Always have.  Even back in grade school, I’d wait until the last minute to read a book or start a project.  It has grown and ballooned and blown up into Earth-sized proportions as I have become a 30-something.  I can’t seem to stop it or usurp it or tackle it or otherwise combat it.  It is oppressive and the fallout is always unpleasant, and sometimes painful.

ready

Green Embers apparently started a goal-setting-and-achieving challenge called “Building Rome,” some 23 weeks ago, but ya know, I’m always the last to know.  I’ve been advised that it’s quite all right to jump in midway.  As far as I can tell, there is a general given “theme” for the week in which you set a few related goals and then report back on goals from the week previous.

I’m all about setting goals right now, and so thought this would be something to keep me accountable for the things I have been trying to do.  As you may remember, Goddess of Mindfulness and I set four things that I WILL do each and every day so I will also be reporting on these every week.

This week’s theme is “Reaching Out” and I love the quote that tops Green Ember’s post:

“Ask for help when you need it. Even from your parents. There is no shame in needing help.”
– Unknown

Amen to that!  And even though you really do know that, you might not feel it deep down inside.  To reach out this week, I am going to:

1)  Send a handwritten card to my sister and step-sister letting them know how much they mean to me.

handwritten card

 

2)  Perf0rm one random act of kindness for a stranger each day.  A smile, holding the door open, helping someone carry something, advising where something is located in the grocery store.  Small things, important things.

random kindness

 

3)  Talk with Goddess of Mindfulness about this constant cycling and what we can do about it, other than following the “crisis” medication regime.  Also talk with her about the mental  health center’s lack of follow-through with my needed medication requests.  Ask for her help in communicating with them.

ask-for-help

 

Those are about all of the goals I want to set for this week, as I am working hard at the main four:

 

1)  Take medications exactly as prescribed.  I have struggled this week.  Once I took my 9:00’s at 11:00 and I did forget one morning until about 3:00pm.  I’m back off Ritalin until further notice (aggravates mixed state) and I sure will be happy to be back on it.

images (2)

 

2)  Take care of Kizzie’s needs.  This went better than the medication stuff did.  She only ran totally out of water once, and I don’t think it was for long.  We had lots of play time and treats.  I have the stuff for her heartworm and flea/tick for next month.  She is a happy puppy, I think, too, because we have been spending more time outside.

Kizz as a pup

3)  Take care of  personal hygiene daily.  I definitely did a great job at this until about Thursday.  I don’t know what my problem was, but before that I’d been showering daily and putting on lotion and Friday just kind of went to hell.  That was about when I started cycling again and I have a lot of problems with negative thoughts, so I think that was part of it.  I’ll just need to get back on top of it.  My week restarts on Sunday, so I’m already a day behind, but that doesn’t mean I need to let the rest of my week go to hell.

341802_f260

 

4) Eat healthfully and mindfully.  Ahhhh I don’t even want to talk about this.  I did eat healthfully some, definitely not very mindfully.  I really must to better this week and need to get to the grocery store so I have good options available.

images (3)

A Fat Moment

I have actually had a somewhat okay day today.  I got some housework done, spent some time with DSB, a pretty good dinner is in the oven, and I watched an episode of “Downton Abbey.”  Evening is starting to set in, however, and my good humor is vanishing.  I was reminded of what happened to me a few days ago, that I didn’t ever mention because I was so ashamed.

I was at my mom’s house, and she has a full-length mirror in her entryway.  My sister and I used to stand in front of it and preen for mirrors.  My mom and Big Dawg would joke that we were “wearing the mirror out.”  I have spent the past two years (since right before I quit Weight Watchers the last time) avoiding that mirror.  Not even glancing in it, as I go up their stairs.  Getting the vacuum out of the closet, not a second look.  Nothing.

I don’t know what possessed me to look that day, but I did, and I was confused, at first.  I simply did not recognize the stranger in the mirror.  How I think of myself in my head and I how I looked in the mirror are totally different.  I thought, in my head, that, although I have gained some weight, I have retained some of my cuteness.  Dead wrong.  There is nothing even remotely attractive about me.  Except maybe my hair, which has grown out, but even that left me confused because it was much darker than what I envision it.

Since then, I’ve glanced in mirrors.  Horrified, every time, to see what I have turned into.  And I’m not exaggerating.  I would qualify as super-morbidly obese.  I am disgusting, without a doubt.  I feel this sense of urgency to do something about it, something drastic.  When I took DSB to his appointment on Thursday, there was a flyer for weight loss surgery.  I’ve thought about it a lot in the past but have never gone through with it.  Could I now?

I’ve thought about it a l0t, and the answer is, no, I don’t think I could.  I truly do believe I can lose weight if I apply myself.  It doesn’t help that I’ve gained 10 pounds or so since I quit smoking, but that’s not what has broken the camel’s back.  It is that image of myself in the mirror, the one that I don’t recognize.

I am terrified of the health ramifications of being this overweight.  So far, the only health conditions I have are sleep apnea and hypertension.  At my weight, I should have elevated cholesterol and diabetes, to boot.  How that has not happened by now, I don’t know.  What I do know is that I am going to have to really apply myself and lose some weight.  And stay quit with smoking.

All of this seems like Mission Impossible, given my mood.  But, I’m not ready to die anytime soon, and I’d like to look at least a bit attractive.  DSB still tells me I look good, but now I know better.  Maybe in his eyes I do and I am fortunate to have a significant other that is not close-minded and can still see beauty beneath the surface.  Ok, I am beyond fortunate.  And he d0es love me and thinks I am pretty.  Ok, ok, ok.

Still, something has to change.  The depression has to go, the weight has to go, and the anxiety has to go.  All of it.  I lit a candle for myself tonight, which I don’t usually do (I usually reserve it for someone else), but I am going to need all the good juju I can get.  Something’s gotta give.