Diary Entry of a Hopeless Halloween Nightmare

  Upon waking, I started the day with the annoying nagging understanding that I only slept approximately five and half hours last night. Probably closer to 4, since I'm not counting the tossing and turning and the the burning lungs and throat and the getting of the humidifier from out of the downstairs bathroom tub, which I reassembled in record time, in order to be time efficient and get as much sleep as possible. Once the humidity kicked in, I was able to fall asleep. It was a miracle.
   I must blame my retiring late to my addiction to a certain television show about bikers and the drama that unfolds as they live their lives outside of what's right and good, only to experience far more pain and suffering than if they would just become noble and good citizens and earn fortune in the honest and legal way. But that would make for a boring show, I suppose, so that's not the way it goes.
  I like my time alone at night. I love -me- time. I am in a consistent battle with myself regarding early or late rising. My days are consumed by children and dogs, dishes and laundry, business building and exercise, sweat and lack of make up and showers. I am consistently battling my body hair to cease and desist, and it is a losing battle.

 In fact, today has felt like one big losing battle. No matter how many times I wash the dishes, more appear. There will always be mountains of laundry, because even when I plan to fold one load per day, and I actually believe it could happen because I'm a hopeless optimist I suppose, it doesn't happen. Not when there are calls to be made, dishes to be done by hand, dogs and kids around my feet, legs and hips and their needs are voiced as each minute passes. I would love to fold laundry, if only I could get to it.
  My joy is found in pole. Ah yes, pole will be good! my thoughts agree. However, once I start my lesson I realize that soon my son will be awake,  require lunch, and I also told my children I would attend the Halloween parade at school. But I don't know what time it is, so I call the school to find out.

  As I drive to the school, which is just down our street, I dread the crowd of people, as I'm currently in slob state with oily hair, aged sweat, partially-removed nail polish, and feeling incredibly non-congenial. But then, as I approach, I see it. And my jaw drops.
  Vast masses of cars, lines of them, not just in the school parking lot, but lining the street. I am instantly angered by the emotion that comes upon perfectionists when they believe they are witnessing other parents more perfect than them. Not only is it cold and rainy out, but it appears as though nearly half the metro has turned out for a small elementary school Halloween costume parade. I don't understand. And I feel tears in my eyes as my thoughts deepen into overdrive. Why is this so important to so many people? Why are there so many school events that they have started to seem innumerable to me and if I were to participate in all of them, I might as well work full time as a volunteer at the school?
  I have failed. Once again. On top of the many, many things I suck at. This is one of those days. There is no way I'm getting out of my car through two blocks of cold rain, and dash into the fray of thousands of excited parents and children with a cold callous look on my face and the wretchedness that is this day. After all, I justify to myself, when they come home we'll carve pumpkins and then go trick or treating. They have to forgive me for not coming to this insane craziness that is the Suburban Parents Organization of Overachievers. They just have to.

 So that is that. I missed the stupid, ridiculous, exalted and worshiped Halloween parade. And I'm here, in my house, dry but not warm, and hoping and wishing that my children will forgive me for being as imperfect as I am.

 So here I sit. Oily and out of control. The hopelessness I feel over this entire charade called a day is ghastly. 

 I am in desperate need of some Jesus, a bible, and a nap. And lots, and lots of crying.

Fit but Frustrated in Minnesota

  The scale is evil.

  Not because I haven't been losing weight, no. But because I FEEL so much slimmer and better and even my husband has commented on how skinny I feel to him, and yet the scale isn't budging. Hasn't for two weeks. According to the scale, I've lost a total of TWO POUNDS IN A MONTH. Yet I feel like I've lost ten. It makes no sense.

  I hate when people say "Don't go by the scale!" because really, isn't that what a scale is for? I'm -not- supposed to weigh what I weigh right now, trust me. Really. I'm not a body builder, I'm overweight.

  When is this stubborn bugger going to go down a bit further? I've been running 45 minutes a day, 4-5 days per week, and just incorporated lunges and squats, per my chiro's permission.
   But the scale. Isn't. Moving. It's gotta move sometime, doesn't it? SOME TIME?! Because I cannot be doomed to weigh what I weigh right now, forever.

  I'm being so good! I'm watching what I eat, I drink pretty much nothing but water, I say no to sugar most of the time, and I'm EVEN GOING TO BED EARLY! Okay wow, I'm actually pretty dang proud of myself. I've accomplished a lot. Not to mention my increased cardio endurance.  I get my run out of the way first thing in the morning before the kiddos are even up, so that I don't stress it throughout the day, and I run my keister off. At least I hope. Or up, which is what the lunges and squats are for.

 I suppose I could just go off a darn measuring tape for a while, since the scale is such a bummer and not meeting my expectations. Anybody else had weird scale experiences for WEEKS at a time, all the while certain they were losing weight? What the crap, man.

Signed,

Fit but Frustrated in Minnesota

  

Let's Be Honest

  The term is self-sabotage.

  I've been listening to a book that discusses this topic at some points, and while I used to think that this term is a silly way to psychoanalyze, I can hardly believe that as the author explained what it is, I had a complete "ah-ha" moment and realized that self-sabotaging is probably most of the reason I haven't achieved half of what I want at this point in myself. Although, I am fairly ambitious so maybe I want to achieve more than the average bear. 

  Thomas Edison stated, "If we all did what we are capable of, we would astound ourselves." 

Think about it. How many times have we intended to do something, but didn't actually do it because we were lazy, or just plain afraid? Those voices in our head say either "Meh, that's too much work anyway," or, "Do you really believe you can actually DO that? Hmmm..." or, "You'll fail. Then what? You'll look stupid."

Well gosh I mean, if that's how Thomas Edison lived his life, would we have the light bulb today? If that's how Henry Ford thought, would we have automobiles to drive? What about the Wright brothers? What about Walt Disney? What about Marshall Fields?

  I can say that I have self-sabotaged myself throughout life, either due to lack of clear goals and direction, or as a result of not believing in myself. I have believed, for a very long time, and at times without realizing it, that I am not good enough. Yep. I'm not pretty enough, not attractive enough, and I have beaten myself down into the dirt with the measuring stick of comparison. Why can't I just be prettier, thinner, more skilled at this or that, more successful, more accomplished, and the list goes on. Therefore, due to my lack of belief in these areas, I STAY in those beliefs. Don't get me wrong, I'm improving day by day. But it is a daily battle.

  The fact is I can be whatever I want to be. I can do whatever I want to do. That sounds vast, but for the sake of summation, I'll just put it that way. It's true. 

  I overeat due to the desire to escape and numb pain, like a druggie would inject heroin. Okay, there's nothing wrong with loving to eat yummy food! BUT, there's a point where you have to say okay, that sixth donut is enough. I've had enough cake. I've had enough crackers. I'm not just enjoying a small treat at this point, I'm damaging my life. I don't want to do that anymore! While I don't believe there's a place we "arrive" to overcome our issues, I do believe we can triumph greatly over them and continue to heal and move forward.

  Something else I'm learning is to actually envision myself in the place I want to be. Do I want to earn a trip through my business? I picture myself on the beaches of Bali. Do I want to lose 50 pounds? I picture myself rocking pole. When we desire something so badly, and we visualize ourselves doing it, it is far more likely to be obtained.

  Don't ever stop believing in yourself. The only times anyone thinks your dreams are silly or ridiculous is because they are afraid to dream, themselves.

  From this day forward, I will be zoning in on self-sabotaging, every day. When I crave sugar, I'll remind myself that poisoning my body isn't getting me where I want to be. When I don't want to get on the treadmill, I'll remind myself that's the most important time to do it.

  

  Stop sabotaging yourself! 

  You are capable of SO MUCH that you can astound yourself.