Bryan and I both woke up with spider bites. I am totally grossed out at the thought of little spiders biting us in the middle of the night. I believe a deep cleaning of our bedroom is in order.
Busy morning requiring lots of over planning. Tyler has tennis 10-10:50, Henry has swimming 10:30-11, and I have a doctor's appt. at 11:15. I've got it all worked out, my parents are going to help with picking up and watching kids. This is just a follow up with the doc to see how my back is and what we should do next. I have really great days and then really bad days. I never know from one morning to the next how I'll feel.
My anxiety has been in overdrive lately. As bad as it was 8-9 years ago, when I was going through all the crap with my first husband. That was my first experience with true panic attacks. You know, the ones where you think you're dying? I have no idea where the anxiety is stemming from now, but I feel as though I'm about to jump out of my skin all the time. And I don't want to be on xanex constantly, so I try to take it only when I really need it. I didn't sleep last night. So I feel trashed today. But it's a swinging day, and I'll do my best.
I've definitely hit a wall with food and exercise. And I mean this in a good sense. I found the barrier that I couldn't seem to get past - for years - and I am in the process of breaking through. I can't explain exactly what happened, but I think it's a combination of anger at what's been going on within my family and anger at the doubt friends have that I am capable of not bingeing on huge amounts of sweets and sticking with a serious training routine. A good example - a few onths ago, we met some friends for coffee, I was wearing a babydoll top, trying to disguise my stomach, and the husband of my friend (who is a smartass anyway) said "what, are you pregnant again?" It actually brought tears to my eyes. I felt like I was in grade school. I was so hurt, and so sick of that kind of attitude. It was not long after that that I ordered my first ketlebell. Or attitudes that I'm somehow weak, both physically and emotionally. And somewhere along the way, I just got mad. And while anger is not great for my day to day state, it certainly has done wonders for how I eat. I have kept calories low, I have not binged, and what's more, I have not wanted to. There is nothing tempting me. And despite all the pain I have, I STILL swing. So to anyone that makes me feel weak, I point to that and say, 460 reps, motherfucker. Today I'll hit 500. Next week will be 550. All 8kg and 12kg. That's a lot of weight, and it gets a little easier each time.
My weight is back down to 134.0. I got down to that not too long ago, but then gained back up to 138. So it's starting to come off, and I am flipping the bird to both my belly fat and anyone who makes me feel inadequate. Including myself.
Okay, coffee, NOW, go to the bank, strip the bed, get the day MOVING... 'cause it's a goddamn swinging day!
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