Today has been rough for me. I slept funny last night, lots of strange dreams and wakefulness. I normally sleep like the dead and the last few nights of disturbed sleep are starting to fuck with me. When my twins were small I lived in a constant state of mental twilight. My concentration was shot and my temper was frayed. I haven't had a bout of insomnia for a long time and I'm hoping this isn't the start of one.
I'm feeling self-destructive today. I got on the scale this morning and saw a number that means I've cleared a hurdle that often feels out of my reach. And then I immediately started thinking about ways to fuck it up. Not so concisely, mind you. It's more of a tightness in my chest that makes me want to do destructive things. Eat a whole pie, or smoke a pack of cigarettes, or drink a bottle of wine. I am the mistress of self-sabotage.
I fed the smalls and fought the urge to indulge in blueberry waffles with them. Instead I made this.
You will NOT fuck this up. YOU WILL NOT.
Made it past the breakfast hurdle. Then I went to the box to do the Lurong workout for the week with a friend. Sometimes a hard workout will snap me out of self destruction mode. I had an apple on the way there, and another after the workout. Nope. Still feeling destructive. I did wear my new pants today. Are they white with black stripes or black with white stripes?!? Who knows?!? But everyone who says wide hipped women shouldn't wear horizontal stripes can go fuck themselves. These pants are cute as shit and I looked awesome in them.
The optical illusion will confuse you into seeing smaller thighs.
Then I went to yoga, thinking maybe I could quiet my mind a bit. It worked for a little while, then my fallback for self-sabotage was thwarted. No agave coffee syrup at the market, so I couldn't have that little indulgence today. Ragey once again. I listened to angry music and bitter bitchy chick music all the way home and contemplated stopping for smokes. Ye gods, I miss smoking.
After washing up and getting the smalls squared away with a snack, I started working on my October sock club socks. The whole time I had the chest tightening, I want to fuck shit up feeling. I took the kids to CF kids and continued on the sock, but I couldn't shake the self-destruction. I kept myself from yelling at the kids for no reason by listening to loud angry music all the way home. The boys now know all the words to Imagine Dragon "Monster". I wanted pizza. So. Bad. Also much wine. Instead I made leftovers.
I poured one glass of wine.
Today's affirmation must be:
I will not give in to self-sabotage.
I always, always do this. I'm doing too well, so I have to fuck it up. Not today. I don't care how ragey I get, I'm not going to succumb. I clearly can't go out for smokes (kids), I can't drink a whole bottle of wine (kids), and I will not eat my weight in peanut butter or other bullshit. This feeling will pass. And I'm not getting on the scale again until the end of the Lurong when I have to.
Deep breath. I can beat this.