I woke up one recent morning and realized that that whole conversation I had with the sales guy about the fact that I couldn’t find shorts to fit and I needed to change my diet? That conversation was in a dream.
I had a dream about my fat.
I’m pretty sure this is a first.
When I realized that’s what I was dreaming about – shopping and having a sales guy pull me aside to let me know that I need to examine my diet and try things a new way – that was weird. I mean, I know these things. I know that I need to focus on moving more, that I need to take the time and that I have to pay attention to what I’m putting in my mouth. I know. I know that’s what works.
But it’s hard.
It’s hard when you wake up at 6 am after going to bed at midnight because you were trying to get some work done and you know that you need groceries but you can’t begin to think about what your meal plan should look like and the toddler is asking to do “something else” every five minutes. When that happens, and I forget to eat breakfast and then don’t eat lunch, that’s bad for everyone. I know it is.
I know that I need to sit back and plan my time and take better care of myself and my body and I need to stop right now and realize that my weight is too high and that has to change. But when am I going to get a quiet minute to berate myself and regroup?
Every time I get a little bit back on track, every time I think I’ve got some forward motion something happens that derails me again. More work, illness, toddler phases, business travel. This is my new normal and I have to adjust but it’s just not happening.
I’m not good at lunch. I’m not good at ‘in the moment,’ I’m not good at getting through the pain for the gain. I’m good at pushing through the hard times, and then I get tired.