My disappointment in myself (a.k.a. lack of weight loss) has kept me from blogging, but it's the day after Christmas and I'm feeling a renewed sense of self, so here I am.
There have been a few times in my life when I was able to diet and exercise to a point of losing quite a bit of weight. The key factor in each of those was that my life followed a set schedule, one in which I could easily plan for working out a few days a week. The first time was when my child started prexchool at the local YMCA. I would take the little one to the top floor for a few hours of play time and education, and I would head to the basement to exercise. It was great! I then supplemented this with step aerobics at home when I felt the urge to jump around when she wasn't in preschool.
The next time in my life was when she started at a different preschool and I was a nanny for other children her age. After taking everyone to their respective preschools, I would head to my neighborhood community center to exercise. I then went home (we had moved back in to my mom's where my brother also lived) to a quiet, empty house to spend an hour pampering myself. I'd crank up my music, shower, curl my hair, and dance. At noon I'd pick up the kiddies and start the second half of my day in very good spirits.
The third time was a few years later. I'd drop my child off at school and then head to campus where I worked and studied. Arriving a couple hours before my first class, I'd head to the gym to work out and then take time to shower. It was great. The rest of the day was filled with energy and a strong, positive mood that was useful for all the things I was juggling.
The one reason I'd stop, every time, is because I'd start a relationship and give up myself to the new man. However, the second time (as listed above) I was already in a relationship, and I felt myself drawing away from him. I felt so good about myself (exercise does wonders for my mood) that I started to not care about the relationship based on the fact that he wasn't giving me what I needed; I felt myself pulling away from him. When I realized this, that I no longer cared about being with him, it scared me to death, and I gave up working out so I could refocus on keeping him near me. Which brings me to a much deeper problem, how I find myself in relation to my relationships. There isn't one relationship that I've had, since childhood on, that hasn't proven to be highly conditional. This applies to parents, a grand-parent and siblings. Even when I've done nothing wrong except break the dysfunctional rules laid down by the other person (e.g. refuse to keep lying in order to even have a relationship), even when I've played their games to the best of my ability, every relationship has turned on me. So I guess it makes sense that the only time I could feel good enough about myself to focus on my health is when I've been single.
I've been in a difficult relationship for over 2 years now. Because he has done a LOT of work on himself, it is much better than it was, but I still find it impossible to let go and get lost in the zone that is necessary for dedicated weight-loss. Between that and my absolutely insane schedule, which doesn't allow for regular workouts, I just don't know what I'm going to do.
To be continued ...
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