I look back over this blog that I [thankfully] kept, and I just shake my head. I mean, I'm glad I kept the blog, I'm just utterly disappointed in myself for letting go. I did so well for so long, even after my mother passed away. And here I am, eating crap food, sick all the time, almost back to my heaviest weight, and smoking. YEP.
The past couple years has been a rough ride. I wouldn't necessarily take any of it back, I've learned a lot about myself, but I let myself go in the process. I've been struggling with my mental health, with my sense of self worth, and with my highly addictive personality. All those things combined when not managed can be a recipe for disaster.
I NEED to get back on track before I can't anymore. The time is now. Should have been yesterday, but now is all I've got.
Two months later...
I've managed to almost completely quit smoking. I went from a pack or more a day to two or three cigarettes. I was able to make it a couple days without having a single one, then I let the stress get the best of me. I still haven't bought a pack in over a week.
My juice press is sitting assembled and ready to go on the dining room table. I've even used it a couple times this week. The nutribullet has seen fairly consistent action for my breakfast smoothies, but just about every meal has been (delicious, but) an assault on my insides. My digestive system has been in revolt for a few months now, but the stress and anxiety I've been dealing with was my huge excuse not to give a shit.
Oh, and I bought a scale. It's been a long time since I've stepped on one, and I nearly cried. Weight wise I'm pretty much right back to my heaviest. At least I still kinda fit in my jeans. Kinda. My weight is a good tell of how bad my insides are getting. The worse they are, the more I retain. If I don't get back up on it, I'm gonna get very sick very quick.
I'm worried that it won't be as 'easy' as it was last time to get into a routine. I'm a little nervous that maybe it will be much harder to lose the weight as I get older. I'm kinda scared that it might be too late. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try.
There's a produce store in the nearest town that happens to be on my way home from work, no matter what city I'm working in. I have to pass it to get home. There's a vape place in the plaza next to that. I have no excuses to smoke or not eat the way that I should. There's a big-ass garden planted beside my house that in a couple months will be so abundant I won't know what to do with it all.
I don't need junk. I don't need sugary snacks or pizza. I don't need sammies every day for lunch, or meat at dinner. I don't need salty greasy fried things to be happy. I don't need to smoke to feel alright.
This is it. The beginning of the rest of my life. And I'd rather live in health than in sickness.