Who Takes Care of You?

Or should I say, do you take care of you? Last November, I woke up one morning, after having spent a year and half on WW (losing 30+ pounds) and working out 3 – 4 times a week, to a full-on burn out. It was much like Forest Gump after he ran back and forth across the country and one day….He…just….Stopped. Running.

I had developed a healthy body and mind. I hadn’t been that healthy in some time. Then, right after my first Run Disney Challenge weekend at the Wine and Dine in November….that’s running a 10K and a Half Marathon over two days….I just stopped. Stopped it all. Below is a pic from 2018 on the left vs 2019 on the right. The run on the left was so much easier for both of us.

I discovered years ago that I made food my BFF back in 7th/8th grade when I hit puberty. Puberty wasn’t good to me. Over the summer between 7th and 8th grade, I developed enormous boobs and chubbed out. I had been a Levi SLIM my entire childhood, so I became extremely self-conscious of my weight. When I look back at pics, it really wasn’t all the much weight, but in my little 14 year old head….I was huge. It certainly didn’t help that some of the boys I had known my whole life picked on me for it, calling my PDG. That would be their clever way of calling me the Pillsbury Dough Girl. I didn’t really forgive those little shits until well into high school. Let me say here that we are all friends now, just as we were in kindergarten because, well, boys are dumb and kids can be brutally honest and hateful. It’s all part of growing up but body image is also learned at home. As an adult, I know that some of it was to deflect their own self-consciousness and I have never been one to hold a grudge. You know what a grudge is? It’s letting someone else live rent free in your head.

So, whenever I am feeling the slightest bit nervous or fearful, I eat. And I eat junk food. Cake. Cookies. Candy. Chocolate. If it has sugar in it, I want it. I have been in the middle of uncovering what I really, truly love to do and that is scary. What my true passion is in life is not what I thought. I always knew I wanted to be creative, but I thought that meant painting or drawing. Being creative can come in many shapes and forms. So, I have been working on digging it out of my soul one journal entry at a time. Working on yourself can be scary, but the rewards tremendous. Finding that my love of writing is what will bring me real joy has been a blessing. This epiphany struck me deep inside. I realized all of the signs were there…subtly pointing me in this direction. Opportunities I’ve had with friends in the last 6 months have shown me that I love telling a story. I love producing and directing how that story is told and it all begins with writing.

Since I realized my passion for writing is outweighing my passion for drawing and painting, I have put in a greater effort to get three pages written in my journal every day rather than a daily doodle. What I found in my journal has not only surprised me a bit, but has helped drive me back to being centered.

Sunday morning, I admitted to myself I haven’t really been taking care of me…especially my body. My weight has ballooned BACK up 30 pounds (in less time than it took to get it off) and I generally feel like crap all the time. I am no longer comfortable in my skin. I am (once again) sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Time for an overhaul and one I can live with today, tomorrow, and always. I have always said WW is something I can live with forever. I don’t need to jump in head first and fail by next week. I need only to start making myself a priority. Quit worrying my picky eaters won’t like what I fix for dinner. They need some healthy eating, too. I need to be concerned about whether I am feeding myself real food or if I’m just eating junk because it’s easier. So far this week, I have eaten much healthier, exercised more, and am starting to feel more like myself. So I ask you….are you taking care of yourself? Are you making yourself a priority? I am.