Sweet ms ralph ('xcuse me inability to do cute links, she's the mighty www.suckingitin.blogspot.com
) left me a comment yesterday saying she misses me.
I was not going to come back and post till I clear this mess inside me, but the truth is that I miss myself too, and I thought that writting here might help me see some of me again. Or not. I don't know.
When someone is engaged in a long journey to loose a huge amount of weight, like I do, there is one thing that is certain. At some point, they will become impatient. I think this very impatience is what sabotages all the wonderful efforts at the end, and gets us back to the old habbits, back to the comfort of tacos and cookies.
Logic does not exist in any schism. There is no explanation in why someone will be meticulously diligent in eating and exercising for a long period of time to simply blow it in a couple of days. There is no way of having concrete understanding why the same body that will react in a certain way by a certain eating plan and a specific exercise routine will decide to stop reacting, or even have reverse results. Abyss is the human soul, and I am yet to discover the depths of mine.
Sometimes I feel I am two of me. I am the wife who wants to start a family. And then I am the woman who wants to experiment and explore the world of men and lust. I am the sensible dieter who have worked hard and have achieved so much. And then I am the rebel who refuses to be judged by the size of her arse. I am the P.R. consultant who likes to glow with pride in her fancy outfit at the intermission of yet another succesfully organised theatrical premiere. And yet I am the old fashioned woman who dreams of a house with a garden to grow her own veggies and be a stay-at-home wife and mom.
The schism again. Between the soul and the body. Between the who I am and who I wanted to be. Between me and mine. Between mine and theirs.
Compromise. I have learned that. I have tangled this task too. But the rebel awakes from time to time and she is so capable of creating storms. The rebel returns like a tornedo.
So the truth is that I am afraid of the rebel. I am afraid of her, really am. The more weight I loose, the more tempted I become. The more of me gets out, the more of what stays in gets panicked. Does that sentense even makes sens? I wonder...
We went out a lot during the long weekend. We went out with friends, who brought their friends and we were always with a big group of people, and there were many new faces around. And many of the many flirted with me. And I flirted shamelessly too. My husband is not happy with this. I can sense it. And I am not doing anything about it. Actually now I come to think about it, I did. On Saturday and Sunday I returned home to devour amazing quantities of halva, turkish delights, valhrona chocolate. On Monday, during the traditional lunch of vast quantities of seafood and ouzo, Vangelis and Sofia persuaded us to do the crazy thing again. We have another national holiday on March 25, our Independence Day. They said...come on...you know what would be nice for the long weekend? To hire Vespas and cruise Rome! So all Monday was spent in plans about a 3 day trip to Rome, a trip none of us can afford, but hey, we live only once and there is always plastic...
But Angelos yesterday told me we are not going. The schism again. A part of me was admiring my sensible husband, was loving him for his ability to talk sense to me. And yet, a part of me felt terribly let down because, remeber, we only live once and there is always plastic...
I know I cannot do this anymore. I do not have the patience for 3 kg losses in a month. I cannot diet another year. I want to know if the schism will cease to exist when the eager soul meets the slim body.
As of yesterday I am back to the detox. I spoke with my med last night. I sms'ed him after midnight actually, asking if he was awake and if we could have a talk. Luckily he was up and reading at home. We had a long telephone conversation. Two hour long! It is always good to be friends with your doctor. It felt good to talk to him like I'd talk to a friend.
He said I can do it. I can detox for 2-3 weeks, have a day off, then go back. Every 2-3 weeks he will change it a little. But the basics will be the same. Lotsa apples, lotsa baked veggies, lotsa salds, olive oil, tzatziki or rye rusks, depending if I am eating raw salads or baked veggies. Few Tsp of lentils or azukis every couple of days for protein. A stuck of herbs and supplements I got to go buy later today.
Kimba said in a comment that I am conditioned to see big losses after the January detox. She was so right. But I cannot have it any other way. Since August last year I have lost some, gained some, lost some, generally, I have maintained. I am confident about maintenance. I just need to loose the rest fast. This whole saga has really worn me out. Last night I slept in the sofa for the first time in the almost 8 years I have been married. Not accidentaly. Intentionally. And it has nothing to do with him really. I just had to be with myself. See how much I stand me. And I know he feels isolated. And I do not have the energy to approach. I just need to mend first.