So, here I am, 8 months into 30 and let's take an inventory shall we?
I did finish my Bachelor's degree - big points for me! I started a graduate program, but realized two things: 1) I cannot afford it and 2) I wasn't as passionate about the field as I needed to be.
I've stopped and started smoking again several times, but as of now, I've been 120 without a cigarette.
These two things are great and I don't want to ignore them, but they are the only things from my original plan here that I have accomplished. In terms of my physical well-being, I've gone backwards rather than forward. Instead of being at a healthier weight and being more physically fit, I found myself last week at my heaviest ever weight and right now, I am so physically deconditioned that basic things like walking a few blocks or up a couple flights of stairs are difficult.
You might think from reading that last paragraph that I find myself suddenly over 400 pounds and just laying around feeling sorry for myself, but no. I'm under 300 still, even, but my overall health has deteriorated. My pain levels are worse, my asthma is worse, my stamina is non-existant... yes, I know much of this is because of the weight gain, but it makes it exponentially harder to correct the problem. Then on June 4th, I took a bad spill in the shower. I hit my head incredibly hard and gave myself one hell of a concussion. I have been out of work since and recovery has been very, very slow.
Thanks to the concussion I have terrible, near constant anxiety and panic attacks that are crippling. My physical symptoms are worse, and I don't honestly know if that has anything to do with the concussion damage or if it is just coincidence, but my body hurts ALL the time. Doing every day tasks like a sink full of dishes makes me want to cry. Because of this, my house is in a shambles, my financial situation is scaring me, and everything in my life feels out of control. I feel deep shame about the state I find myself in, and of course, as an emotional eater, this leads to a cycle that has an increasingly negative impact on my health.
Last week, I decided to do something that sounds very simple: I created a meal plan. I didn't worry a super lot about calories or fat or carbs or anything. Just fairly well balanced meals with the goal of not eating anything not on the meal plan. Trying not to eat when I'm not hungry, trying not to just mindlessly shove food into my mouth as though it is medication... this sounds so easy to people who don't have problem. I feel like a goddamn addict. I feel sometimes like I actually can't control it. And there were a couple of times that I couldn't, but I was MUCH more in control by just planning ahead and because of support from my partner.
In that week of fighting myself, planning, crying, freaking out, and trying to "write my feelings" instead of "eat my feelings", I lost 5 pounds. So, there is hope for me yet. I understand this is an uphill battle for me. I understand everything is working against me rather than for me, but I also understand that eventually this will kill me and I don't want to go down without a fight, so here I am trying again and trying to forgive myself for being worse off at 30 rather than better. Perhaps beginning to heal at 30 will be more successful than healing *by* 30.
