Change – Ready Or Not, Here It Comes

The workout didn’t take place. Here is what happened. I teach English. My neighbor sent me a text and said she is sending a prospective over about 1:15. This did not leave time to workout, shower, and finish cleaning. So I chose to finish cleaning. It took me almost two hours to clean everything! I had not realized how dirty everything had gotten. In that time there was sweating, dancing, and moving about. So I don’t count it as a loss at all. I didn’t technically do a workout, but there was movement for two solid hours instead of sitting around.

The plan is to workout tomorrow sometime, and then Saturday as well. Those two workout accompanied with the workout from Monday will put me at my goal of working out three times a week. This is not a failure. Only a change of plans. And that makes me smile. 🙂

Living With The Bad Dreams

Don’t you love bad dreams? A bad dream can wake one up in a bad mood; forcing the dreamer to choose how to deal with the discomfort the dream has caused.

The bad dream found me last night. Years have passed since Chandler and I parted ways. For almost two years after, at least once a month, the same dream would happen. The dream always started out the same way. My Mom and I would be in the car,driving around a city, and looking for a certain road. We would circle the same area repeatedly. Somehow, eventually, the sought after road would appear. We would take the road, and find his house. This is where the dream would change.

Sometimes we would be sent away. Sometimes we would be welcomed into his house, much to his chagrin. Sometimes I would barge in, not welcomed, completely intent on sharing whatever was on my mind. These situations never ended well.

Last night’s dream was a bit different. This time the whole family was invited over. He lived in the same place as always. We all, Mom, Dad, both sisters, and me entered his house. Upon entering, we see on the couch three beautiful curly-haired little girls, and one beautiful little baby boy. This was shocking as he had given me the impression he could not have children.

Chandler’s wife was not there. She was at work. He and I said little to each other, except the comment I made on how beautiful his children are. The sisters and I decided to inspect the rest of the house. We discovered pictures of his wife with another man. We also discovered a room that held in it a live, working clock, the size of the entire room. This clock had swinging pendulums and would have easily killed someone. We were astounded and had no answers. There was a specific time I watched his kids playing in the back yard, and wondered how in the world this could have happened. Upon entering the room he and my parents were in, I asked him about the pictures and the clock room. As he began to answer, in walks the man from the pictures with his wife. Actually, this was his wife’s ex-husband. Coincidentally, he was also the father of all the beautiful children playing the back yard. This includes the baby boy who looks so much like Chandler.

Chandler was shocked and embarrassed as the story came out. We left. Strangely enough, my family went back home. On the way, we stopped at Taco Bell, where I ordered a macaroni taco which was supposed to be a dietish choice.

Upon waking up this morning,some observations were made.

1. Apparently, there are still some tucked away issues to deal with if dreaming about Chandler makes me wake up sad.

2. Even in my dreams I have weight issues.

3. Maybe his life is not perfect either.

4. I have no clue what this random dream means.

Thanks for reading. Cheers!

Weighing In

One beautiful aspect of blogging is the optional privacy. No one demands we have a picture of ourselves on our blog. Our age, height, gender, and weight are not required details. I think this allows us to think beyond what we see in the mirror and focus on what happens on the inside. It can be a beautiful thing.

I have been overweight since before my earliest memories of life. I have always been fat, not just a little chunky, fat. My childhood consisted much of bullies, tears, diets, and being preached at by my Grandma. Yes, she just had my good in mind but it hurt. My grandfather would make fun of me constantly for being fat. Everything I wanted to do, it seems the answer always included something about my loosing weight.

I am not the only one in my family like this. I would say out of twenty close relatives, maybe four don’t seem to have a weight problem. This is including the children. Several of my family members have recently taken strong measures in changing their health and have been very successful. I have not. I have lost weight in the past. Dating someone has always been wonderful inspiration to start dropping weight. As soon as the relationship was over, all the weight and sometimes more would return.

I’ve tried the diets. I’ve had a wonderful personnel trainer who really made me see how strong I could be. Love her! The doctor chose the type of depression medication because others have lost weight while taking this medication. This has not been true so far for this girl.

So why am I writing about this now? Because it is making me sad. Because this morning I over ate even though I woke up feeling fat. Because I am sick of being self conscious. Because I want something better for my life. Because I think the first step in making a change, is coming to terms with what needs to be changed.

At this point, I would really like to try eating a Paleo type diet. I have never actually attempted this eating style. My sister and my mom have recently started eating this way and say it is wonderful. There are supposedly many diet options for those struggling with depression so that would be worth looking into as well.

In twelve days I will be getting on several different airplanes and making the long trek home. I feel so guilty when I fly. I know people are looking at me before we all get on the plane. They are just hoping they don’t get stuck beside the fat girl.

I believe that people can not like something about themselves and still have a healthy self image. I believe I am beautiful. I don’t have the perfect body or an amazing skin tone. I do have a very average look and nothing to brag about physically. But I know the Lord loves me. My family loves me. I like being me and wouldn’t want to be anyone else. I just want to be a healthier, more confident me. Thankful that we have the option of improving ourselves. Let the quest for a healthier life begin.