Week 2 - Day 7

We went to breakfast yesterday morning at a place called Lindy's. It looked as if it had been around since the 50's. A drive in type place. I had a corned beef omelet that turned out to be a bunch of stuff scrambled into some eggs. It was okay, but not really what I would call an omelet. Also, grits and a biscuit. And Dr. Pepper.

After breakfast, j^C went to SC to retrieve That Sprout and I went shopping at Kroger. I finally found yahrzeit candles and I bought some Rugehlech. When I got home, I started eating the Rugehlech and watched Peaky Blinders. I feel like all I did yesterday was eat. Very bingy. At one point I thought about making myself throw up.

But then I order pizza and wings. Because that makes sense.

I have gotten to the point where when I eat anything I feel guilty about it. Like I shouldn't have eaten it. This is no way to get along, is it? It's very frustrating. I think about throwing up quite a bit. I don't like it. I'd like to think that if I were to make good choices, this feeling would go away, but then I keep making bad choices, so I have no idea. Also, it seems like I'm not allowing myself to have any slip ups or any . . . decadence? Even really healthy people eat unhealthy food sometimes. It's just that I don't feel like I get to have my sometimes.

I wonder if I'm trading one type of eating disorder for another.

Week 2 - Day 6

Did not get to the gym yesterday.

I have been feeling like I want to eat less physically, but I have been wanting to eat MORE in my brain. We had lunch at the El Salvadoran restaurant and I had 2 pupusas and we split some plantains. I could have done with one pupusa. I should start ordering less food.

I was so tired all day. I thought I would go home and watch a little tv and get to work on the house. I did not. I slugged out on the couch and wound up passing out and going to bed early. I can't believe I fell asleep in the middle of Shadow of the Vampire.

I had soup for dinner, which was very good and did not leave me feeling like I had binged, so that's good.

Week 2 - Day 5

Yesterday was a very emotional day tacked on to the end of a very emotional week. I woke up hacking up a lung - a great start to any day. I coughed so much that I started gagging and threw up. Or at least dry heaved. Because of this, I did not eat breakfast before I left. I was feeling lousy after the spouses coffee anyway, and when I got to school I committed a faux pas by handing out That Sprout's birthday party invitations to only the girls. I know better than to do this, but how am I supposed to mail them when no one fucking talks to me? I wish I had not invited the whole class in the first place. I am really hoping that they don't show up. Meanwhile, Miss Amy let me know that in the future my method would not be acceptable, and I walked back to my car fighting back tears. A wonderful state to be in on my way to the gym.

At the gym it was shoulder day. I didn't do any cardio because of my coughing fit, so after a short warm up, we dove right in. It wasn't long before I was crying. I already felt like I had made a mistake that morning with the invitations. I don't feel well. And now I was having difficulty with my workout. Because it's hard. And I was still thinking about the night before, where I realized that as an Army spouse, I am a non-entity. Needless to say, there were a lot of emotions racing through my head during my workout.

I don't even have anything bad to say about the trainer. She offered me the same cliche and hollow platitudes that anyone else would have "You just need to stop caring. Fuck em."

. . . Which is a great sentiment if it were not for the fact that I am already trying to do that. But I crave approval SO MUCH that it's not that easy. But Lou Reed is my ersatz father figure and HE figured out how to do it (and if you don't think that he did, I invite you to listen to Metal Machine Music). I need to make my own Metal Machine Music, build a bridge, and get the fuck over all of this.

However, that's easier said than done.

I'm realizing that I will not allow myself to fail and when I do fail, or make a mistake, I don't view it as a learning opportunity. It's something that I cannot cope with. It is a moral failing. I don't like it's safe for me to fail. I don't feel like I am allowed to. It's a crushing feeling. I don't like it. It makes it very hard to feel good about myself and not care about what other people think. I'm sure that other people's opinions of me are far less harsh than my opinion of myself. It's really hard to feel good and to not care what other people think when what you think is the most damning opinion of them all.

In other news, after being very miserable for the rest of the day, I wound up at the beer and wine store on Raeford Rd and met a person who seemed to be about my age who was on the same page as me. She was reading the "The Life and Death of Bunny Monroe" by Nick Cave. Her name is Kasmin and I hope that I will see her again and that we can be friends. It's like God heard my plaintive cry for someone I could relate to. And after the terrible night at the spouses' coffee I was beginning to feel like there was no one in this whole town I could deal with.

So, thank heaven for small favors.

Week 2 - Day 4

I did not go to the gym yesterday. I spent my morning at a very neat upscale consignment store looking for something to wear the the General's house last night. It was a 2 hour process, but I came away with 2 very nice outfits. I wore a black pencil skirt and a purple blouse to the coffee event, with my pewter ruffle shoes. The other outfit was a black and pink zigzag striped maxi dress with a black bodice. Very stylish.

I spent the rest of the day getting ready. I over-plucked my eyebrows . . . and I made the mistake of trying to get dinner before I took a shower and got dressed and wound up being almost late. I had to park very far away, so I had to walk in those heels for what felt like miles. By the time I got to the front door I was sweaty and my feet were killing me. I think I didn't sit down once the whole night.

I didn't really get to talk to Ashton, but I did get her number and we are supposed to take That Sprout for tea next week on her birthday, so that will be fun. I wish I had been able to talk to her, but she is a lot more gregarious than I am. I was very overwhelmed by all the people and I quickly realized that the event was not what it was advertised. I thought we would be networking and getting to know one another. Nay Nay.

"What does your husband do?"
"What was his MOS before?"
"Where were you stationed before?"
"Do you have an children?"
"What made him want to join Civil Affairs?"

And on and on and on about our husbands. I spent at least 30 minutes yesterday afternoon writing some notes about what to talk about if I was asked questions about myself. Where I went to school, where I was from. What my interests are. My hopes and dreams. All worded so as not to give too much information but to show who I am. Just like Emily Post and Michael Jasek taught me. No one even asked. The most that came up was that I am from Crescent City. I feel sort of conceited to be so complainy about "What about ME?" but really, I don't know or care about what my husband does. It's nothing to me. If we're supposed to be making friends and forming a support network isn't it more important to figure out who we all are as individuals rather than as extensions of our spouses.

Apparently not.

And then there was the "Protocol Presentation" that seemed to go on FOR-EV-ER. First of all, I didn't really learn anything I didn't already know. Secondly, I was galled that there is apparently this expectation that I'm supposed to be Martha Stewart. It's not that I don't want to be Martha Stewart - it's the expectation. If I were to try to do some kind of fancy party and no one was expecting it of me I could feel free to do it my way, and if I didn't do it perfectly it would be okay because no one would know any different. But if there are these expectations already in place, suddenly this thing that I want to do feels like a competition. Everyone will be expecting things of me. They will know if I don't do it right. They will know that I don't have a full place setting. They will know that I don't know what I am doing. I will be exposed as a fraud.

The General's wife was nice enough, but I came away feeling like an outsider anyway. I don't want to just be an accessory to my husband's career. I want to be known and appreciated for something I did on my own.

Also, on a weight loss note: I felt very self-conscious about my weight, but thankfully I felt confident in my outfit, so it wasn't so bad. I wish I looked like everyone else. It would be one less thing to worry about.

Oh, and one more thing: There was a woman there and her husband was a higher ranking officer. A Major maybe? She was talking about how you have to go to all these events and you have to wear a different outfit to each one. I said half jokingly that I would buy one dress and wear it to every event of the season. She's all like "Uh, no. That's the exact opposite of what you want to do." Very snippy. I was thinking "Lady, the Army is not buying me all these new dresses. Just because you said that, watch me do it. Try me. I dare someone to say something."

This is why I didn't make the cheerleading squad. This shit right here.

Week 2 - Day 3

Yesterday morning was arms where I learned that I had been doing several of the exercises wrong. Preacher curls are no joke. I think I cried a little. I was feeling over-wrought, knowing that this Army wife coffee thing was on the horizon. I don't really remember a lot of what happened at the gym, because of what came after.

When I picked up That Sprout from school, I took her to McDonald's for lunch. On the way out I checked my email on my phone and saw that I got an email from the Army lady about the coffee. There was all this talk about "protocol" and how to dress and act and I realized that I had been duped. I had no idea that this was the sort of thing that one needed to brush up on one's Emily Post for.

So I had a mini panic attack and called my point of contact. She did not assuage my fears. I realized that I would need to go shopping for something to wear. I realized that I was woefully out of my depth. I was very stressed.

I talked to Mojo JoJo for a little while and he said that I shouldn't be worried and that this event was basically putting on airs. I felt a little better and we decided that I would try to find something in my closet that would be appropriate to wear. Long story short, I went to get my nails done, I picked out a nice outfit, and later I cried because I felt fat in said outfit and I was terrified of going to the coffee.

On an unrelated note: I learned today that my body fat was 44%. I looked up what a woman's body fat should be to average. It's 25-30%. Mathmatically speaking, that means that if I were to weigh 176-192 I would be an average healthy weight and percentage of body fat. I'm not buying it. I think that I want to go get a real percent body fat test. The kind in water. They do it in Wilmington for the low low price of $50. Maybe after the new year?

Week 2 - Day 2

I went to the gym at 9:30 last night. I the gym closed at 11, which would have given me plenty of time. It did not. It closed at 10. I rushed through my workout, thinking that I would do cardio at the gym when I got back to the apartment. It was a shoulder workout, and all through it I felt really good. I went pretty fast, but I added weight, so that's good. I felt like I was awesome.

Then I left. And I hacked up a lung while standing next to my car. I gagged. I threw up a little. I peed a little. It was scary. Also, my back tensed up almost immediately after I did the hyper-extensions, so I bet I'll be feeling that later.

I am unsure as to whether or not I did an effective workout. It all felt too easy. Was I over confident? Was I doing the exercises wrong? Did I somehow over do it? No idea.

Now, why did I go to the gym so late?

I spent my morning at a pumpkin patch with That Sprout who couldn't have cared less that I was there. This was annoying as I could have been at the gym or working on my book in a week. But no. I was sitting on some hay in a wagon all by myself while That Sprout was glued to her teacher. I'm not bitter . . .

Some thoughts:

• There are not enough hours in the day. I have too much to do and with this child only in school 3 hours a day, not enough time to do it. :-(
• I feel like my hips look less wide. Could be my imagination, but that means I am feeling better about myself, right?
• I am going to do the bottle of lotion challenge, focusing on my arms.
• I have been so hungry lately, but I don't want to eat. Should I be worried?
• Weights are a lot more fun now that I have figured out how to use the I-pod while working out.

Week 2 - Day 1

Yesterday was legs. I increased weight on several of the exercises and yet I felt horrible. I was still sick and very tired. Before it was all over, I was crying  a little, mostly because I felt weak and lousy and angry at myself for being weak and lousy. I had to stop, breathe, and tell myself more than once "you are not weak, you are sick and you are tired. You are not weak."

I wonder if part of the problem had to do with the fact that I only had a protein shake for breakfast. I was hungry but I did not want to eat. Because I was still sick, I guess. Also, I only did 15 minutes of cardio. I am going to be happy with that. Because I am still sick.

Also, I am 237 as of today, so that's good. I am not eating great, but I'm not overeating either. I need to get back to taking photos of what I am eating. Baby steps.

Blah.