Here I am on Day 1 of my new resolve. Last week was a bust, the weekend was completely off the charts and now I get to rededicate myself to the process.
I'm a week away from the year mark of my weight loss journey. 72 pounds is nothing to sneeze at and I'm going to be proud of the success I've made. I'm wearing smaller clothes, I'm doing a lot more activity than I used to. I even have more energy that I used to.
This past week off program has really opened my eyes to the way I used to be to the way I was becoming. Right now I'm tired and listless, all directly due to caving in to a week of bad behavior. Last week it was the exercise, over the weekend it was the food. I went to church wearing clothes that fit fine when I first bought them, but I felt all fat and bloated and yucky. That saying, "Nothing tastes as good as being thin" is so true.
Something occurred to me last night, something I've really lost sight of. As I said, I'm approaching the year mark of this journey. Last year around this time I was completely and utterly devastated. I was hit by a trauma trifecta. First was the anniversary of 9-11, and you already know how that affects me. Then on September 12th I heard of John Ritter passing away, which was so sad. He was one of my favorite actors and his death was so sudden. I remember wanting to call Dan up and talk about it but I didn't have the phone. I wish now that I had because September 13 really brought me to my knees.
I remember being so sad, so devastated, so angry at life that it could be so cruel. God too, to be honest. I was so upset and suddenly my own mortality was thrown sharply into focus. Suddenly that little fairy tale I've always told myself that I would live to be a ripe old age was challenged. Suddenly I was reminded that Death lurks in every corner, ready to pounce, and it is not discriminating. He comes for us all.
I was watching the Emmys last night and as usual done in by the In Memorium roll call. Last night, however, I had a flashback of what last year was like. Last year when I watched that I was right in the clutches of that extreme, profound depression and sadness. It occurred to me that this is it. That's all our lives amount to. A hundred years from now all that will be left of us is a name and a date. Some people will be more remembered than others - John Ritter cemented his mark on the world through film and television. People will get to know him each time they watch Three's Company in reruns. Daniel on the other hand, will be a well kept secret. Either way, it doesn't matter what we do, what we say, who we love - every single one of us will meet the same fate.
I was so depressed that, even though Steven and I tried for so long to have a child, I suddenly felt it was pointless to bring another life into this world. Why bother? Who knows what life has in store for my next child? What's the point?
And yet, even in the midst of all that - I somehow managed to pick myself up, crawl broken and bleeding until I could once again rise to my feet. I struggled through each and every hurdle, first walking, then running, then hurtling headlong into the fight of my life. The fight FOR my life. I wasn't going to let it end like that. I was going to be more than just a name someone could easily forget. I was going to put an indelible mark on the world, some way, somehow ... despite it all.
Survival is a remarkable thing. When life tries to cut us off at the knees, the human spirit remains strong enough to fight with everything its got to press on - despite the inevitable finish line. Survival is our most fundamental need on which everything else is based.
So here I am a year later. I've lost a decent amount of weight, I've come a long way. With that came a certain complacency - gone was the urgent need to survive, to fight and claw my way to the finish line. I've backed away from the front line of this war to such an extent I forgot the battle was still raging.
I am not done. This is not over. Today is the first day back on the front line and I will win.
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3 comments:
Hi Ginger. Your entry today had me in tears right now. I am happy for you that you have accomplished all that you have thus far. It is a sign that whatever you want in life; if you put your mind to it and work hard for it that you will get results. All that you stated was an inspiration to me as it will be to sooo many others that was just as desparate to live as you were. My life has just begun but its words of encouragement and reminder that will make me work that much harder to make my mark in life. Thank you for writing today.
~*~Alyssa~*~
You've got it right, girl! Survival is the name of the game, picking yourself up when you think you can't go on and plowing forward! This year I hit the five-year recovery mark from my struggle with breast cancer, and life couldn't feel sweeter. Five years ago, my own fairy-tale about the ripe-old age thing got pretty well burst, and at one point I didn't know if I had what it took to triumph. But I did!
That which does not kill us makes us stronger!
72 pounds is AWESOME, you must be so proud of yourself.
Have a great day! Theresa :-)
The dash - what an incredible little symbol that is. It is between the birthdate and the deathdate. Those dates eventually mean nothing ... but the little dash lives forever. It is who we were, what we did, who we loved and how we left this world.
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