The first day of something

Today is the proverbial first day of the rest of my life.  The day (actually the 2nd day, as I was stellar yesterday) I start back on track with moving toward weight loss, improved fitness, and denial-free attention to my physical well-being.  Mondays are good first-days-of-the-rest-of-my-life.  I should know.  I've had a zillion of them in my 59+ years, yet here I still sit, about 40 pounds overweight, in denial about my borderline (hopefully still borderline) type 2 diabetes, hypertension controlled by medication, and who knows what other weight related issues.  Confession:  initially I wrote "obesity related issues", but it sounded so harsh and ugly that I changed it to the kinder and gentler "weight-related".  This runs deep.

I'm going to spit out some major baggage here - I might as well use this blog for an outlet, since it isn't panning out to be a springboard to writing fame.  I'm too cheap to go to therapy again - been there, done that.  It won't get me skinny or give me any new insights into my demons.  I have to have somewhere to say some of this shit out loud.  Judge me or not.  Something's gotta give if I'm ever to find freedom from a very destructive relationship with food and eating.

I've been blogging since summer of 2009, and it was really only in the first 6 months that I lost a chunk of weight (~25 pounds) that I have of course re-found.  I'm still not as high as I was at the very beginning, but I'm as far from a success story as Obama is from getting Congressional republicans to agree with any words that come out of his mouth.  Truth be told, the reason I stop blogging for long periods (often) is that I get tired of not having anything positive to report.  I always get so much support and kindness here, and yet I feel ashamed about that because I don't deserve it.

I've written before about one of my favorite sayings in AA - "if nothing changes, nothing changes".  I am the poster child for that little nugget of truth.  Many things HAVE changed in my life over the years, and those changes have bore much fruit and richness.  But with the eating, the food, the weight - status quo breeds status quo.  I want to be honest about a few facts of my life.  These won't be new to anyone who has read me for awhile.  They provide good examples of the saying in the paragraph above.

1)  I love my Atlanta in-law family.  They love me.  I'd like to visit more often.  But I dread going, always, because I'm fat.  Still fat.
2)  My beautiful daughter is still living in the Dominican Republic with her wonderful boyfriend and soon to be official fiance.  I love spending time with them both.  We have only been to visit once while she's been there, though she comes home as often as possible.  They are dying for us to come down soon so we can meet Cesar's parents, and visit their beach condo up on a stunningly beautiful tiny penisula off the northeastern coast of the island.  I want to go, but I don't want to go fat.  I can't wear long sleeves and capris on a tropical Caribbean beach.  And I definitely can't wear a bathing suit.  Or meet the parents.
3)  I should have had basic blood work drawn about 7 months ago, and have put it off until I get some "sane eating time" under my belt".  I'm afraid of the type 2.  I'm afraid something horrible and terminal will show up.  I'm afraid of my shadow, I think.   (And whenever I walk with friends, my shadow is always the biggest.  Admittedly I have lean friends, but still...)  I'm afraid of literally everything.  I'm phobic about minor symptoms, in me or my family members.  And I keep this all at bay, inside, so as not to appear as nuts as I feel.  A neurotic mess on the inside.  Cool, wise, AA sponsor/friend/nurse/mom/counselor on the outside.  Let me tell you - it takes a lot of food to keep this all zipped up.

There is a lot more I could say, but my work day is winding down, and I think enough is enough.  Maybe I'll write again soon.  I hope so, but my willful bad self, driven by a million forms of self-centered fear, can call the shots if I'm having a bad day.

Acceptance and the Serenity prayer are my current strategies right now.  There is much I cannot change.  There is much I can.  I even claim wisdom to know the difference between the two.  But action is what matters.  One planned action is that I have an appointment at 8 a.m. on Wednesday morning to have that blood work done.  If it shows I'm gonna croak - so be it.  I'm having it done.  It's a start.  And I'm going to try and resist any sugar, other than fruit, for the rest of the day.  I did that yesterday and it was ridiculously hard, arguing constantly with the voice in my head coaxing me to have just one ___________ that someone brought to a meeting.  I got through the day.  I'd like for a rerun of that today.