It’s all a bit chicken and egg

So my eating is terrible, my motivation is appalling and my lifestyle leaves lots to be desired.  

I never know whether eating the wrong things makes me feel bad and sets me off on a path of depressive thoughts – I definitely suffer from the carb fug after eating, and the GP reckons this is because I often go long periods between meals and my sugar and insulin balance is screwed up.  But I do turn to food to numb me when I feel stressed out.  I can manage OK when I have company but when I am alone it is so difficult not to salve my soul with toast.  And then I wonder if I could only exercise more routinely I would be happier.

Anyway, I’ve been asked to trial a fitness tracker which monitors my activity.  I need to be honest with it about food.  Past history tells me I will be filled with enthusiasm until I have a few busy days at work and then I will falter and forget about it – BUT I have committed to giving feedback after a month so I have to stick it out for that long 🙂

Anyway.  I also am fairly determined to start by being kinder to myself, something which this blog was started to help keep me focussed on.  Early bedtimes are my project of the moment.


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.