It’s a beautiful evening. The sun has dipped down behind the trees, relieving our part of the earth’s surface (and its inhabitants) of its scorching rays, even if the temperature remains at an unnatural height. I’m sitting on the deck overlooking the grassy wooded courtyard of our apartment complex, swatting away the incessant mosquitos, which are also aware that this time of day is pleasant. They have come to feast and feed. But I’m on top of the food chain, dammit, and I’m not about to be somebody’s dinner. Especially if it makes me itch.
I’m excited, though, because hey–I got new jeans! No, I haven’t lost much of my extra weight yet. I’m working on that and…it’s working. No, I’m not shaming myself, starving myself, counting calories, or begrudging food. I’m not looking to be thin at any cost. Just–no. I’m not looking for a quick fix or succumbing to a Come Hell or High Water approach. I’m losing weight the way I gained it: slowly but surely, without perpetuating shock to my body or making drastic, unhealthy changes. I’m simply undoing what I did, correcting mistakes I made. It’s all good.
So why get new jeans now, when my circumstances and dimensions are surely going to change?
The answer is twofold. First, I needed a few more changes of pants. Currently, only one pair of pants in my arsenal actually fits, which means I’m wearing the same pants daily, which is hell on laundry, not to mention the pants. Being able to rotate is more convenient for me, and more healthy for the pants. 😉
Second–and this is important–buying new clothes in my current larger size is symbolic of my acceptance of myself as I am right now. However temporary my current measurements may be, to spend the time and money buying clothes that fit me involves a sort of commitment, and to make that sort of commitment, it’s necessary to reach a proportional amount of acceptance. It says, “here I am; take it or leave it”.
And actually there’s a third reason: it’s a physical manifestation of my starting point. It provides evidence that I really was that size at one point, long enough to decide to buy clothes for that time period, and it provides a sort of mile marker that says, “look how far you’ve come!”, along with the positive reinforcement that brings with it a motivation to keep going. It’s a measure of progress; it’s certainly not the only measure (feeling good and being healthy are, by far, much greater measures of progress than numbers on a scale), but it’s one of the easier, more visible, and more tangible yardsticks to use.
One day I’ll be able to hold these pairs of jeans up and say, “look what I did!”
Physical body weight, in my case, is simply a marker of metabolic integrity. I know my body enough to know that if I’m gaining weight, something is off inside, something that needs to be looked at, something that needs attention, something that might need to be fixed. It’s not laziness, overeating, or lack of willpower. It might be my thyroid, a crappy quality diet, an excess of estrogen, or an abnormal tissue growth. I’ve experienced all of the above. And I know my body enough to know that when my weight returns to normal, it means I’ve solved that mystery and begun to get on the right track. My weight is merely a low-tech tracking device for overall health, and only one tracking device at that.
So anyway, it’s the weekend. I didn’t have a particularly productive work week, but there’s always next week, and I know that my mental/emotional hiatus from work didn’t let anybody down or drop the ball on anything or anyone. I also know that for 2 more days, I’m legitimately off the hook for having to do anything. I never would have said stuff like this years ago; weekends used to suck because the office was closed and I needed something to do. Now I’m grateful for the downtime. My how things change!
I’m not sure how I’ll use my downtime. I usually end up watching TV (always something I can learn from!) and perusing medical journals for interesting new research. I also fired up my music downloading program for the first time in a little over a year, and I’ve gotten some cool stuff. Vast (V.A.S.T.) tops the list, of course.
I may or may not check in on social media. It used to be that I would dream of being able to step away from it, but never could. Now, I often can’t remember the last time I did. (My How Things Change again!) It’s usually been a while–sometimes days, sometimes a week or more. People say they miss me. I’m sad about that. The truth is, I miss them, too, and it’s not like I don’t care or that I don’t think about them. I do, on both accounts. I just lose track of when I last checked in.
I spend my online time reading blogs, and I’ve found several great posts lately, one of which I’ll probably reblog, because it’s just that damn cool.
I managed to get a normal night’s sleep last night (!). Around 7.5 hours. Small miracles and all that.
It looks like peppermint essential oil might actually keep mosquitos away after all? My jury is out, but it doesn’t seem to be any less effective than rosemary. It really gets into your sinuses, though. It’s really powerful.
And the new vape juice I’m experimenting with (as of today) is awesome. They say it’s like a blueberry custard, but I only taste the blueberry, and just a hint of it at that. No custard. Which is fine by me, as I’ve never had a particular affinity for custard.
But at any rate, my atomizer battery is running super-low, which means that my time on the deck is over. It’s pretty much completely dark here now anyway, so there’s no beautiful twilight left to enjoy. But that’s OK; it’ll be here again tomorrow, I’m sure of that.
For now, I think I’ll bug my partner about what to watch or read tonight. As distant as he can be, I do enjoy spending time with him. He does make me laugh. He does make me think. I love to do both, and I like those aspects of him. Time will tell, about how everything will work out; it always does.