Dépaysement
Source: https://medium.com/writers-on-writing/94ec1b9f5741
The feeling of not being in one’s home country. Hmm. I know I was born in these United States but, yes, I do feel like a part of my heart currently resides in parts unknown. Like Tuscany or the French Riviera.
So, another weigh-in, another failure to revel in.
I’ve been gaining and losing the same 0.4 pound for the past month. This week it was a gain. Le sigh.
I haven’t eaten anything but meats and vegetables and dairy since the beginning of this summer. No cake. No ice cream. I cut out the bagels. I really don’t have a lot else I can cut out.
My best losses come when I use my extra 49 points to drink alcohol. Honestly. It’s annoying, really.
This week I even got exercise! Three days of staying home equaled not only needing just one tank of gas instead of two, but it also meant a walk on the beach every night. Shouldn’t exercise help matters?
In other words, I was mentally more healthy this week. Of course, Friday was a mess. Drama and stress. Funny, I did weigh less on Thursday than I did today. That says something, doesn’t it?
The harder I work, the less-fair everything seems to be. The harder I, well, not diet per se but try to take care of my body, the pudgier I become.
I always say that things can’t change till you set them in motion. Every move is progress. I am probably one of the healthiest pudgy people I know. I just stalled after I lost 10 pounds and frankly the wind is so out of my sails that I just don’t even care right now.
I did go to my meeting today and was just deflated after I heard it wasn’t a loss. Like, how? Seriously, how?
The leader said something interesting, and that’s why I go. She said some of us did the program before and had smashing success, and now we’re struggling. OMG it’s like she heard my thoughts! And she said, look, you’re in a different place now. There’s no formula. All you can do is keep working at it.
Which, she’s right. But every time I give up something I really wanted … every time other people get promoted or complimented or favored over me … every time someone sends us a group nastygram after THEY did something wrong to shine a spotlight on things they want to say we did wrong … every time my heart gets broken because a boy would rather date someone uglier/skinner/married-er than me … I lose a little more of my mind.
And the remaining portion of my widdle brain just isn’t regenerating.
And to further test me, Whorothy changed her profile photo. Do you know how much it is KILLING me not to comment? 😉 I am committed to being a better person. Not sure why because I always seem to be the one who gets the door slammed in my face. (Thank you cunt in apartment 617 for shutting the front door and the elevator door in my face on purpose while LOOKING RIGHT IN MY FACE WHILE YOU DID IT.)
I feel like a stranger not only in my own land, but also in my own body. And I’m not sure whether it’s worth continuing to fight to take control of my destiny when shit seems determined to keep happening the way it wants to.