Once more, I dig deep and resolve to get myself moving in the right direction. I was doing so well with balancing things for a while and this past week I crashed emotionally and physically. I’m eating in full out relapse and physically feel like total crap. My stomach is off. I’m bloated like I’m retaining fluid for three people. I refuse to get on the scale so that I don’t totally demoralize myself.
Emotionally, I’m sad, depressed, angry with myself. Spiritually, I’m downhearted. Mentally, I go between WTF (What the f&&k) and DGU (Don’t give up).
Here are the bright spots. Despite everything, I stuck to working out three times last week and gave it my all in rowing classes, Tai Chi and getting Nat out for walks. When I finish this I’m either going to go for a bike ride or go in the pool.
Emotionally, the bright spot came when talking to one of my closest friends, I talked about how I’m still going through grieving for Pyxi. My friend could have said, “Suck it up. It’s been two weeks.” Instead, she shared that she still experiences moments of grief when she sees a box of things that belonged to her beloved dog who passed a couple of years ago. So, instead of a negative judgment, I got a much needed validation.
This helped a great deal because I’ve been judging myself all week.
I understand that this is a function of my disease. If I ever wanted to make it an actual creature in a horror novel, here’s how I would characterize it. It would be an evil, needy force that craved human emotional pain to to feel alive; that gained substance in form whenever its victim criticized, judged, and body-shamed herself; that took sustenance from the addictive substances that its victim consumed. So, needing these things for its own survival, the disease would take control of its victim to incite these things and then gobble them up.
Knowing all this, there are times when I just want to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and hide or wallow in my own misery. Times when I want to say, “What’s the use. I can’t win.”
Thankfully, somehow, somewhere with help from whatever Higher Power refuses to abandon me, I find the need to dig deep and try once more.
Tomorrow, I’m going the full liquid route. This is not a crash diet. I simply want to remove as many food options as possible. Fewer choices mean fewer chances for my disease to take control and lead me to making the wrong choice. Plus, my stomach physically feels raw inside from the crap I’ve been eating, like I’ve rubbed it raw with junk. It needs to be treated gently for a while.
I’ve thought off and on about whether to face the music and weigh myself tomorrow. Right now, I’ve decided against taking that step. I’ve meditated over whether this is denial on my part, but I’ve decided that it isn’t. What I want to achieve is the simple act of getting abstinent again. I don’t want to make this about how much weight I might have gained over the last week or how much weight I might lose on a food plan of full liquids. It isn’t about moving up and down in my numbers. It’s how restoring my emotional, physical, mental and spiritual stability.
Weighty Matters 
Life can be so hard at times. Try to think kindly of yourself & keep doing the best you can each day. That is all we can ask of themselves. The bigger picture is continuing to improve your health – mentally & physically – and you have been addressing that in the form of your exercise program. Despite deeply grieving and feeling so low. That is really impressive. Take care & best wishes.
Oh sweetie! You’re not a machine who can turn off the grieving for a much loved pet. It takes as long as it takes. It’ll get better. You’ll get better. You always do. You’ll get to the place you need to be.
hmm. Sympathy, validation on the mourning (ask me about Bertie, ask me about Jack, ask me about –), DGU. Hope you did follow-up with your dietician. Have a feeling that would help.