June 15, 2014

Hey everyone! I'm still here, taking it one day at a time. I haven't been writing much because I've been catching up on many other things that I've put on back burners. For one, I really needed to clean my office. It was a complete and total disaster.

Truth is...I have a strong aversion to snail mail. I don't like dealing with it so I stack it in piles, put it in bags or boxes and try to forget it's there. I've hated mail since my single digit years. It all started with the back of a cereal box. My favorite cereal had a cut out on the back of the box. The instructions were to answer the questions and follow simple instructions, place all requested items in an envelope and mail. What we were to get in return was a host of cool toys. I followed the instructions as requested and excitedly put my envelope in the mail. I waited with great anticipation and pride for sending out my first piece of mail. How cool was it going to be to receive a letter written to me? I waited and waited for weeks, checking the mail several times a day. Finally the great day arrived when my mom handed me an envelope with my name on it. I stared at it for a few moments and then tore into it to gain my prizes. A dark cloud came over me as I stared at a few chintzy paper objects. Where were the great toys they promised?! I was all a lie. I threw everything away and never cared to see another piece of mail again. Sad to say I still feel the same way. There's something very wrong with adults not seeming to care about lying to children, but all hell fire and brimstone to the child who knowingly tells a lie, even if forced to do so.

Hmm, maybe that's why I felt such a perverse pleasure in selling confessions to the goodie two shoe children having nothing to confess on Fridays. After all, it was mandatory to confess every Friday no matter what. As children we were forced to share our secrets or tell lies to people who could do no more for us than to tell us how may Hail Mary's to say.

When I was 4 or 5 years old I enquired about babies and where they came from. I didn't much care how they got into the stomachs of mommies. I was more curious about how they got out. As usual, when I pursued an answer I went full throttle. After having cornered my mother in the kitchen for several minutes of intense inquiry, a few lies later she points to the garden and instructs me to check the cabbage patch for babies. This was her last ditch effort to get me off her back and redirect my attention, especially since I clearly wasn't going for the babies are brought home by storks bit. So, I ran out to the cabbage patch, spending the next several hours carefully checking under each cabbage multiple times. By the beginning of sunset I realized that my efforts were fruitless and once again I'd been told a lie. I was livid. I stormed up to the house, threw open the back door and screamed to the top of my lungs, "YOU LIED! I bet you don't know where babies really come anyway!" And I stormed off to my room where I sat stewing in my mother's deceit.

Funny how the simplest things from childhood still affect me, even to this today. It is because of my mother's lies that I refused to tell a lie to my son. I don't know if that's a totally good thing or not. My son will never know the common joys of childhood fairytales like Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy. Life though joyful and filled with love can be very matter of fact. I hope he doesn't look back on his life with the level of scourge that I have for my past. I hope that he will appreciate truth as much as I would have, had I'd been given the chance to experience it.

I've been doing quite well with my daytime eating. I'm at the point where my body wants to eat and my mind is settled for now. It's really a fear of the discomfort I feel when starting to eat too late in the day. I'm thankful for that fear as it has given me the will and the drive to make sure that I get in at least two really good meals during the day.

Nighttime has been a little more challenging. I've not had a major binge, but I am still binging most nights. Since the last time I've posted I had only a couple successful nights. I am aware that I am having these urges and I am doing all I can to break the cycle again. If I need to eat, I try to get something small. I usually have two small servings of something before feeling like I can go to sleep. Another part of the problem is I'm eating later at night. Dinner time has not been at the previously scheduled time. I find myself eating dinner around 9-10pm. I'm not going to spaz out about this because I don't need to fill my head with guilt. That will only make matter worse. I'll just keep trying to work my way back to a better dinner time and one small snack before bed.

In these past few weeks I've been more active than I have been for quite some time. It's all of the reorganizing and hauling out unneeded stuff. I've noticed that I feel physically better and I want to keep feeling this way. The good thing is that I'm starting to exercise a little. I've not done so everyday, but I've exercised for several days and working hard to continue. I feel so much better when I've been active. I had forgotten how being active made me feel. Most of the time I'm working at my desk which leaves me with little more than a wide, flat posterior. I feel exhausted at the end of the day and could not pinpoint why. When active, I'm tired at the end of the day, but still able to function and my mind is very alert. Yep, it's time to tighten up...literally and sweat my way back to a healthier lifestyle.