So, I didn’t write on Thursday. There’s two reasons for that. First, I really just didn’t feel like it–I’d had a busy week and I was cleaning and I really didn’t feel like thinking. Two, I really couldn’t think of a topic. So, I didn’t.
Now, I wanted to write last night, but I went to be early, and frankly, I can’t write when my DH is around–he gets all squiggly. As it is, right now, he wants me to come in and caress him–don’t want to, it doesn’t get me anything, but if I don’t, I’ll have to deal with his attitude all day. So, I’ll do last night’s post now, and do tonight’s tonight.
Anyway, I think for the first time in a long time I really accepted the fact that I am fat, unhealthy, and heading for an early grave. I went to the doctor for a follow-up for an earlier illness, and they weighed me and took my vitals. She also showed me my trends for blood pressure over the past two years. I realized that I have been fooling myself as to how big I am, and how healthy I am. Now, nothing she said was too alarming, nothing is to far gone that I’m headed for the coroner’s slab tomorrow, but I realized that what I have at 42 I shouldn’t have.
Since my new year’s resolution was to work on myself, as I said, one of those things that I want to work on is my health. And since the New Year started, I have been doing some things right. I have cut out non-diet soda, I haven’t eaten fast food (except once, but we have to celebrate small victories), I haven’t eaten chocolate, and I’ve been controlling my portion size. I haven’t exercised, but I have had a terrible cough and stuffy head, so I don’t think getting on a treadmill and then hacking up half a lung is a good idea. And of course, this weekend, we’re snowed in, practically, here, so I’m not going anywhere.
But, what’s more important than above is that I don’t feel like I’m depriving myself, which I usually do when I do these types of things. Maybe my brain has finally turned that corner–this is not something I want to do, it’s something I need to do. I’ve realized that I want to be half of myself by this time next year. I’d love it to be by my birthday, but that’s in only six months, and that’s not practical.
Maybe being healthier wil make a lot of other things better. Who knows? Maybe it will change my overall outlook, or the outlook of those around me, and everything will get better. Or is that too much to hope for?