Truthfulness

Do you ever feel like you’re completely alone in your struggles, like no one understands or has similar issues? Maybe that’s because most health and weight loss bloggers only report their high points, their successes and their awakenings. What about the days that the urge to eat fistfuls of chocolate is so overwhelming that there is nothing you can do about it? What about the days when it would take a nuclear explosion under your ass to get you off the sofa and to the gym? Why do we always feel the need to put a positive spin on the shit?

We all go through times when the energy and commitment is high, we are unwavering in our manifestos and we achive nothing but rainbows and gold stars! But there are also times when we are either doing all the right things and getting nowhere or where we just cannot pull off one more ‘supposed to’ task.

Last week was brutal for me. Around Wednesday evening I started the slide into apathetic, mindless overeating (bordering on binge) and non-exercise. I felt more like the depressed fat smoker sitting alone in my dark apartment than I have in over 5 years. So why didn’t I blog about it? Because I already felt like an enormous failure, I didn’t feel the need to broadcast my descent into crapitude on the internet. Also, I had absolutely no energy within me to put fingers to keys and try to write about it. I didn’t read a blog or write a blog. When the fog lifted this weekend I took a look to see what other people had been up to and I found a very strange common theme. I was not the only one who had a difficult week. Tarable, Simply Madly Me, Ima Bovine….strangers (well, Tara and I see each other every day) living the same week that I was living. After reading all my blogs I thought I owed it to myself and everyone that reads me to admit complete defeat last week.

All the things I tell myself and others, all the calories that I burn, all the self righteousness I occassionally feel when I’m doing that which most people don’t. All out the window in a magestic blaze of chocolate. Oh, I felt like crap….but I did it the next evening too. And one more after that. The second and the third were what’s-the-point-you-suck-based due to the first night of debauchery.

I’m not even sure if I learned anything from it. I am filled with a sense of renewed vigor though, fueled a little by anger at myself for being ‘common’ and not super hero-esque. Fueled by goals and plans down the road. But I would be lying through my teeth if I didn’t tell you also that I still feel the pull of defeat. That my meal choices and my gym dates are going to be a struggle all week. I would be doing myself and you a disservice if I didn’t say that the thought of doing this for the rest of my goddamn life didn’t feel like a 50 pound weight hung around my neck trying to strangle me.

I can say that I’m stronger than this, that I can win, I’ll push forward, onward and upward, blah, blah, blah. Truth be told though, I will be grateful this week to just get through each day. They won’t all be like this, the motivation and inspiration that we all have inside of us will get stronger again and the gold star days are waiting in the wings. But for now, admitting that this is goddamn hard is all I’ve got….and when my feet feel like they’re solid inside of concrete shoes, I’ll remember that I’m not alone…and neither are you!

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