Daily life

Half-asleep thoughts

So while I was just about to fall asleep last night, I had an epiphany. A small one, but one nonetheless. So, the last few months I’ve been trying to get on the right track and “eat right” and/or exercise more and generally get into better health habits. And I’ve failed miserably. Like I barely make it a week before giving it up as a lost cause. At least I’d make it a month or two before these last years before I threw in the towel, but I’ve pretty much given up. Well, a part of me has. Obviously I haven’t given up completely because I still think that I can try.

But here’s the thing, dear reader, I’ve done the healthy thing. I lived a very healthy lifestyle for years. I was a good weight, I walked everywhere, I ate the right things, and I was in pretty good shape. And then my back went on me and all of that went right out of the window. Because of my bipolar, it took years. I mean… years to overcome that and get back into a mostly healthy lifestyle. I mean, I couldn’t exercise like I used to because of my back, and I’d started to slow down a little because of my age (no one gets younger as they go along you know) and I got back down to a reasonable weight. Then… I developed asthma, caught pneumonia and was put on prednisone which packed on sixty pounds in less than two months. That was discouraging y’all. Like why go through all of the trouble of eating healthy if my body is just going to make it all for nothing?

Because this isn’t a happy post, here’s a funny

I often say I’m at war with my body, and this is why. I went into a deep depression after I developed asthma. Like, usually my depressions last three months, tops because I’m a rapid cycler. This one lasted a while. And, of course, I went into a bipolar cycle that was really difficult to break out of. I didn’t watch what I eat and I didn’t care how big I got. I reached 290 pounds by the time I pulled my head out of my ass and sought help for my bipolar. That’s the heaviest I’ve ever been. I was a mess. The med-go-round didn’t help because some of the meds added weight onto an already bad problem. And sometimes bad medicines are worse than no medicines when it comes to bipolar. It was one of the few times in my life that I’d come very close to taking my own life. Wrote the letters and everything. Of course, I didn’t because here we are… Still it wasn’t a good time. Anyway, I got on the right meds, and once again I started eating right, started walking and, eventually… it took a while, but eventually, I got down to a healthy-ish weight and was happy with myself. I never got back down to where I wanted to be (160), but I was doing okay at 190. I walked everywhere and was eating a mostly healthy diet.

The war continues

And then… and then, dear reader, after working hard and getting my body back into shape, my thyroid quit. Just like that. In my mid-forties I developed hypothyroidism. And the weight came roaring back and I developed some kind of weird pain in my side that baffles the doctors. It’s not my gallbladder, I’ve had that removed. That was eight years ago, and I’ve attempted to get back to a good eating regime, but there’s a part of me, dear reader, that keeps whispering, “What’s the point?” I mean, like, “Why bother?” Because look at those other times I did what’s right and got healthy. What else will my body throw at me? I’m almost afraid to find out. And when my thyroid went, dear reader, that almost broke me. I don’t know if I could handle anything else. I really don’t. If it was just the thyroid, or the fibromyalgia, or the bad back, or any of the other things wrong with me, I’d be okay, but it’s all of them. And I honestly don’t want my body to “make me stronger” again.

Really, no need to send anything else.

Like, I don’t eat a lot. I eat less than 1700 calories most days. It’s not the healthiest of foods, but most of the time it’s not the worst either. I’d say it’s kind of balanced. Not in the way that nutritionists would like it to be balanced but balanced between junk food and healthy food. I know that if I applied myself and even did a modicum of exercise, I could probably drop a little weight, but… I just can’t seem to find the inspiration to do so. And in order to do something like this — to get healthy and in shape — it has to be all or nothing. One cannot be on a half-healthy diet or a mediocre exercise program. I mean, I don’t think I should be out running five-mile marathons or anything, but I can’t just halfheartedly stumble around the house and call it a day then be all, “Well I exercised last week, isn’t that enough?” And I just can’t seem to dredge up the energy to give it my all. So I’m just fumbling through one day at a time and hoping for the best.

My motto…

So, sorry for the whine. I guess I just needed to get that off my chest. Thanks for listening.