Month: May 2014

Poisoning myself

So, I wrote that post last night, feeling optimistic.  I felt quite motivated once I’d written it, and I sorted out all the laundry which has overwhelmed me this week.  I had a horrible bug through the week, so it had fallen by the wayside even more than usual.

After I’d sorted it all out, I washed all the dishes so there was no horrible mess to wake up to, and I made a curry and put it in the slow cooker so there was something for my husband to eat when he got in from his shift.  Feeling goooooood.

Then I made myself two pittas with cheese.  WTF?  I wasn’t even hungry.  They were horrible, but I ate them anyway (nobody likes to see waste … right?).  Then I felt rubbish again.  

The big question is why?  I wasn’t hungry.  I was quite happy with myself, having achieved a few chores.  They made me feel lethargic and horrible, and they didn’t even taste good.  This is not taking care of my body.  This is abusing it.  Like someone who takes drugs abuses their body, but can’t stop, it is a bit like that I guess.

Anyway, that was yesterday.  

OK, let’s do this.

I’m a very average working mum.  In my thirties, always tired, overweight, stressed out.

I spend a lot of time being cross with myself for not doing enough.  I don’t keep the house tidy enough, I don’t cook healthy enough food, I don’t make enough of an effort with my appearance, I don’t have enough patience with the kids, I don’t pay enough attention to my husband, I don’t have enough energy, I don’t keep in touch with friends enough, I don’t earn enough, I’m not thin enough, I’m not fit enough, I’m just scraping by with things, but not enough.

Then there’s too much.  I eat too much.  I work too much.  I Facebook too much.  I sit around in a daze too much.  I spend too much time indulging myself in “leisure” things when I should be doing some of the stuff in the not enough list.  I spend too much.  I nag too much.  I worry too much.  I yell too much.  I rush too much.  It’s just too much.

I really want to achieve a few goals (don’t we all?).  Those goals used to be: get thin, earn more, be a better mum.  But I’m going to try a different tack.  My goals are to look after my body, to look after my mind, and to be a good mum.

I intend to do this through the media of cycling, being a bit of a feminist, occasional forays into crochet and generally trying to nurture myself (that sounds like some bad hippy shit, but the thesaurus drew a blank so it stays).

So yeah.  Let’s do this.