My special Lose it! scale came today! It measures body fat and hydration and syncs to my phone via Bluetooth. So far, I’m super excited about it. I know many people consider it psychologically unhealthy, but for the past week I’ve been weighing myself nearly daily.
I’m excited because I feel that tracking these descriptions of my body will help me control my health and move in a positive direction.
Today, I started listening to an episode of Half-size Me, a podcast about weight loss and maintenance. It was this episode
and the interviewee said something that stuck with me, “How would I treat myself, how would I act, if I loved myself? What would I say when I talk to myself?”
That may seem simple, but it gave me an idea. This may sound horrible, but I’m going to try pretending to love myself. Yeah, not as good as actually loving myself, but I think it’s actually a step on that path. Even if I can’t make myself feel something I don’t feel, I can make myself treat myself differently, and I can try to keep a better leash on my thoughts.
A month or two ago, I was at a very low point. I had disappointed my husband again. We were driving home, and when we got there we just sat in the car together, silently. I was dry eyed. My husband asked me what I was thinking.
“Please I don’t want to tell you.” I can’t tell him, that would be so manipulative, abusive even. You melodramatic bitch. Keep your mouth shut.
But he never gives up. I couldn’t think of a lie, so I started crying as I told him “I was thinking how much better off you’d be if I killed myself.”
I explained how he’d be sad for a while, but he’s tough enough, he’d get over it. Then he could marry someone better. I was thinking of the kind of woman I’d want for him. I was wondering if I had the strength and courage to kill myself for his sake. And I didn’t cry until I was forced to tell him. The idea didn’t even seem sad to me. That’s how deep my self loathing runs.
Obviously he objected and made me feel better, as I knew he would if I told him. He told me that he needs me. That’s why I felt I couldn’t tell him. As long as the idea stayed in my head, it was noble, but as soon as the words left my lips, it became self-serving melodrama designed to change his disappointment to concern.
To be clear, I’m not able to kill myself. Not at all.
So I decided that the better idea was to become the woman I want to be, the woman my husband deserves. To live a better life. I only just made a proper start of it recently, but it seemed to have flipped a switch in me. Changed my perspective.
So, that happened. And, awkward and awful as it was, it seems to have been for the best.
So May is off to an interesting start. Very much in the extremes. Here’s the rundown.
May First: A Bad Day
Warning: TMI, feel free to skip to the 2nd. There’s no great way to say this, so I’ll just do it quick like a bandage. I peed myself. Hugely.
My husband will be volunteering at a hospital a maybe 30 minutes away from home. The hospital requires a background check, so he had to go to the sheriff’s office to get his fingerprints looked at or whatever. He doesn’t drive, so I drove him.
I made a point of using the restroom before we set out, but sometimes my body just doesn’t care how careful I’ve been. By the time we reached our destination, I was whimpering in desperation. my husband got out of the car while I was parking, so when I got inside, he’d already been wandering around trying to figure out where to go, and was able to tell me where the bathrooms were. I made it into the bathroom, but nowhere near to the stall. Louis CK said it best “I just see it. And my eyes tell the rest of me ‘f**k it man, let go, we’re here'” (he swears a lot in that clip, but I think you’ll agree that, in the situation, it’s called for). That’s what happened. I hobbled over to the stall, peeing the whole time, wondering why I couldn’t have had just a few more seconds.
You’d think I’d be overcome with mortification, but this sort of thing has happened to me before, and I’ve learned to throw myself at the mercy of others. Granted, in the past it’s always been people I knew, and who cared for me, but in this instance it was just a woman who happened to use one of the other stalls. See, I had left my phone in my car, and wanted to talk to my husband before moving from the safety of the stall. This woman kindly agreed to bring my phone from my unlocked car. She was able to find the car, which amazed me, because it has few identifying features. And she brought my phone to me.
I’d thought my husband would have some great idea, but no. He just advised me to come to the car, there weren’t many people around and I probably wouldn’t be seen. So it was kind of a wasted trip for the savior woman I never saw. My shoes squeaked on the tiled floor as I hurried, head down, out to the parking lot. I only encountered one person, and I just told myself that she had no reason to be looking at my legs, which were as blotched as a black and white cow.
My husband asked me, “how did you manage to get it on the front and the back of your pants?”
“I don’t know. It just sort of exploded out.”
“Like a fire extinguisher.” We both laughed at that. By the way, you should feel free to laugh at this too, it would make me feel better. I’m one of those people who feels better admitting embarrassing things and laughing about them with others. I find secret embarrassments are somehow more embarrassing. Perhaps it’s just because my life has been mostly full of kind people…. That’s not to say that I would have wanted more witnesses! I just like to explain myself and feel understood.
I sat on his sweatshirt, to protect the car seat. We dropped off his paperwork and headed for home. And we almost got there, before he remembered that he had something else he needed to do in that other area–30 minutes away. He wouldn’t have forgotten, I’m certain, if I hadn’t distracted him with my urine. I didn’t have time to go home and shower because he had to do this thing by a certain time. I can’t even remember what it was…. Something to do with reading biometrics or some such. So, good little wifey that I am, I turned the car around, and took him back to the hospital. I waited in the car, but I have no idea how long. Time was really dragging at that point, making it even harder than usual for me to guess the minutes. Every second feels like a long time when you are a 25 year old worrying about getting diaper rash.
On the bright side, I have never enjoyed a shower more than I did that day.
I had a consolation bingefest, made of chocolate, chocolate, and even more chocolate, more than I even wanted to eat.
May Second: A Good Day
You will need a little bit of background at this point. I went to a tiny school called the East Bay Waldorf School from Kindergarten through high school. The high school part of the school failed after my class graduated, so it’s just pre-k through 8th now. I still love the school, and find ways to go back to visit when I can. In fact, I filmed it for a college project, which I hope I can eventually share with you. Right now I can’t, because it hasn’t been approved by EBWS for public viewing. The secretary of 16 years is graduating retiring this year, and specifically asked that I be brought in to sing at her retirement party. I love singing in public, so I was down. I don’t have a band though, so I had to use the instrumental tracks from an album I made in high school (that was with my friend Sara’s band, all seasoned professional jazz musicians). We had no way to feed the music through the PA speakers, so someone brought in a little bluetooth speaker, and we had to call it “good enough.” I sang three songs.
My husband couldn’t make it, so I had my mom film me for him. I thought I should share a video of one song with you lot, sort of my version of Rachael’s Off with the Cloak. I wouldn’t know what to say in a vlog, so I thought instead, I’d share something I’m considered good at. Again, you can’t hear the backing track that well, but I guess that’s not what you would be listening for anyway.
Anyway… No more stalling. Here it is
After the performance, when I was once again just a person in the crowd, I got a fair number of people thanking/congratulating me on my voice. I ate a lot of cupcakes, to celebrate.
May Third: A False Start
Not much to say about today. It was supposed to be my personal beginning of May, the May where I would be perfect all month long. But right at the end I ate too much naan.