The plan.

I've been selling off stuff I don't need, to try to rid my house and my brain of extra clutter, and maybe make a little dough while I'm at it. It's fun. I used to work at a flea market when I was in high school, and I'm enjoying polishing up my bartering skills.

Some of the stuff is clothes. I'm thinking particularly of some of my cocktail and evening-type dresses. I really felt beautiful wearing them. But my life doesn't include holiday galas anymore, and even if it did, they don't fit. Really don't fit. I'm probably 30 or more pounds away from them fitting.

I've been at this weight before. It's been a long time, though. And the first time through, the pounds were distributed more generously through bust and booty. Now it sits in my lap. Literally. I rest the Sprog on my tummy, not my legs.

My relationship with my body is a little strange these days. Six or seven years ago (maybe longer) I started losing weight. Then there was a while I was running pretty much every day, and I lost even more weight, and felt trim and capable.

Then I started to get sick, and I really lost weight. Too much weight, I think, though I was still brushing the bottom end of healthy BMI for my height.

Then I went to the hospital, and put on some weight-- forced sedentary lifestyle, cafeteria eating. And then I was put on some medicines, and started gaining weight like... I don't know. Like a person on that medication, I guess. Forty pounds in three months.

Then I got pregnant, which was fabulous! And everyone told me that I didn't really need to eat for two, since one of us was so tiny, but I did it anyway, because I loved my big round belly, and I felt beautiful and I was hungry ALL THE TIME.

Well, the Sprog is three months old today. He's doubled in size since birth, while I've lost, oh...about twenty-five pounds since then. But that still puts me a fair amount above where I was when I found out I was expecting.

And I'm unhappy about that. Maybe I shouldn't be. I know I wouldn't pass judgment on someone else for looking like me. It's hard to extend that same generosity to myself.

And then there's the fact that I'm overweight. Medically speaking, I mean. Which is something I take seriously, since I've seen the people I love plagued by too many of the health problems that come from being heavy-- hypertension, high cholesterol, plantar fascitis, edema, sleep apnea, adult-onset diabetes, failing joints...

Blech. Anyway, I've decided to take some steps. I'm not going crazy with some intense regimen. I just decided to use the same community network through which I'm selling old cocktail dresses and such to find some running partners.

I've found one woman who's willing to meet up three times a week. We've already gone out for a few jogs in the park. And there's another woman who might want to meet up once a week. And I got some leads for cheap indoor running options for when the weather turns to crap.

I figure that running boosts my mood, and lets me know I'm doing something pro-active for my health whenever I'm tempted to get down on myself.

And I've got Xmas money and some apartment-sale funds I can use to buy some cute clothes that fit, since I've been wearing the same damn pair of maternity jeans practically every day since the Sprog was born.

It's tricky, when money's tight and you've got a kidlet, feeling like clothes are what you should be buying. But if I choose wisely, I can make a little wardrobe work, and I won't have to feel like such a sad schlub whenever I leave the house.

Because surprisingly, feeling like you shouldn't be seen outside isn't the best thing for preserving a healthy mindset.

What?!

I know!

Anyway, I was sort of loath to buy anything in my current size, because I thought it might encourage me to stay here. Which is bullshit-- just a sneaky way for me to punish me for being myself. And I might not actually lose any weight. I might just be a fit person who's a little bigger. And that person should get to look cute.

Again, I'm not embarking on any sort of health death march, just taking some small steps. And I'm not going on a manic shopping spree-- just choosing some smart pieces (I was about to write "investing"-- but TJ Maxx and Old Navy aren't really the sort of places one buys an "investment item.")

And it's all going to happen gradually.

In the meantime, I'm going to try to develop a friendlier internal monologue.

Which brings me to the final piece of this little plan--
In the interest of clearing out my mind as though it were an apartment, I think I might write some more letters I don't plan to send. Unsent letters seem to work for me. They give me a focus, a known audience. And I'm hoping that the act of expressing some of these feelings will free me from the same tired imaginary conversations, bring me some closure.

Here is the rub: These letters might be uneven. They might be dark. They might be hard to read.

But I want to assure those that might be concerned that I'm actually feeling... ich. You'd think lover of reason wouldn't have such a hang-up about jinxing things. I feel good. I finally feel like I might be strong enough to put some of this into words.

So, if you read something that worries you, consider that you're witnessing an exorcism of bad feelings-- or that you're reading snippets of smoldering paper as they get sucked up the chimney, while I sit in the living room, cozy and warm.

And the letters, if they come, will come when I'm ready.

Baby steps. Almost literally.

Comments

[jayne]

Good job, roo. While reading a lot of this post, I found myself nodding in recognition of the same brain-work in myself. I rarely buy new clothes for me - and you're right, it is a punishment for not weighing less. Plus I figure the kids need new clothes, and so does my husband, and I put them all far, far ahead of me in the "who deserves what" line. Need to fix that. Also need to get rid of things, clear out clutter - physical and mental - as well. Thanks for writing, so I can nod in agreement. :)

[roo]

And I'm enjoying nodding to your comment!

Well, here's to better health, gradually.

[Debra D.]

Well, wow! One of your comments just hit me between the eyes. I have struggled with my weight all my life, despite consistent daily exercise and relatively healthy eating habits. You nailed me when you said not buying new clothes is a way to punish youself for being you. Thanks, I needed that!

[roo]

I'm glad you connected with that, Debra. It helps me to know I'm not the only one who sets little mental traps for herself.

I found some new jeans that fit. And are also pretty cute. Feels good.