To say I have been struggling might even be too fair. Starting on Friday, I pretty much gave up the struggle and now my weight is showing it!
I am an emotional eater. Early on, I learned to eat for comfort and it’s a habit that I have not been able to break.
On Friday, I had to take baby to the doctor for her well baby appointment. I got to the office on time, checked in, filled out the 10,000 page survey they give me every single time, and waited.
People came into the office, were called in right away, and left. I assumed they were seeing a different doctor. I waited for 1 hour, to be exact, before going up to the desk and asking if they had forgotten about me. The lady took an awful long time “checking on it” for me, I saw her print out some papers, etc. When she came back, she told me they were busy and just waiting for a room to open up but I was next.
When the nurse finally called us, she apologized profusely and told me that the lady at the front hadn’t given them our paperwork. She saw that we were checked in and everything but she didn’t have the paperwork. How irritating! It was both the lady at the desk and the nurse’s fault, in my opinion. The lady at the desk should have done the paperwork and the nurse should have asked if she thought it was strange we were there but there was no paperwork. UGH!
I am very good at stuffing everything inside. I told them it was no problem and that I understood. Inside I was about ready to burst into tears.
Baby girl was SO good the entire time. She even missed her nap. She had all kinds of people to watch to keep her entertained. I walked around with her in the office when she got fussy, etc. A little boy who didn’t speak English was especially enamored by her and he came over and kissed her feet (haha), as I worried that the boy was going to give her measles or something…
But it’s so incredibly stressful for me to take her out of the house and it just does me in every.single.time. I don’t go to the store unless hubby is with me (although I am going to attempt it later this week). And even when he’s with me I am so tense and stressed out the entire time. Going to our hour long church meetings twice a week leaves me exhausted—literally on Sundays we come home and I just crash when baby takes her nap, totally out of commission. The rest really helps keep me from a downward spiral. We miss a second church meeting in the day because I just can’t handle it right now and that makes me sad.
This past week, I felt especially overwhelmed. I took naps when I would normally exercise. It was the right choice, I know this. But then I never found the energy and the motivation to get my exercise in later. I want to change that this week.
So back on to what I was talking about—these stressful events often trigger emotional eating. It started on Friday with a cookie from Jimmy Johns after the appointment. And then I just didn’t do all that well the rest of the weekend. When you’re tired, you don’t feel like cooking. And that either means restaurant food or a simple and less than healthy meal (think mac and cheese). Mostly it meant overeating and not stopping when I was full when I KNEW I was full. I wanted to feel better but food wasn’t the answer, though I was determined it would be.
I woke up today feeling like my weight was spiraling out of control. And it is. I am so close to my third trimester pregnancy weight that it’s ridiculous. Yes, this is coming just a few days after meeting my new low—let’s face it, I’m not really losing weight so well right now even if I have lost some, it’s not nearly enough.
I’m doing well so far today with making good eating choices. I plan on getting in my workout today. I also plan on taking time for myself (like I am right now). Even just writing this all out helps me sort things out in my head, and maybe I shouldn’t hit publish but maybe some of you will understand and I will get some encouragement.
I haven’t been blogging very personally lately because I don’t really want to talk about things. Don’t worry—the marriage is fine, the baby is fine, we are fine.
It’s me. It’s how I feel, it’s the struggles I’m having that I am realizing don’t have to be my new norm, it’s my apprehension to take the first step. I keep thinking that it will get better and it does for brief moments, but it always returns and it’s getting worse. But I want to think it’s getting better. I want to think that it doesn’t exist and that everything is fine. I am sorry for being vague, when I am on the other side of this I will talk about it.
And so while I want to cut myself some slack, I also realize that my health is spiraling out of control. I have to take action. NOW. But I’m scared, and so I keep waiting.
