I have made healthier changes. I drink maybe one glass of soda a day (and maybe pour a little into some ice cream if I want something sweet). I've greatly improved my water intake versus when I was younger. I remember making that some "monthly" resolution when I still lived in Allentown, but I don't think it really took hold until a few years ago when I just gave up Mountain Dew. Maybe when I started drinking coffee? I just realized I needed to hydrate more often and after reading the science on sodas and other drinks, I realized why I was always so thirsty- they're chemically designed to make me thirsty.
Now, my skin is more pliable and my innards are working, so water's great.
Going through my mother's clinical records, I kept seeing "appeared older than stated age." It's both odd and fascinating to see my mother written about clinically (and something I wonder how I'd "look" on paper). But to be "older than stated age."
I don't want to be in a recliner in thirty years. I think the stubbornness and the "unhealth" that happens around here is what is most jarring and/or irritating depending on my mood. Fidget and I are by no means the healthiest people: we're both overweight, we both smoke, when we drink we go hard, we've stopped exercising purposefully, and I have an ice cream habit and he loves jerky. But otherwise, our meals are relatively clean. We live mindfully.
I read back over this journal and see how staying with them in 2012 made me realize how unhealthy they were and jump-started my own healthy journey. I continue to try and have compassion and understanding with myself with the decline because of how badly late 2014 and most of 2015 sucked. Logically, I can do that. But rereading this journal and seeing the progress makes me have a pity party every so often.
At my lowest, I was 213. That's about the same amount I weighed somewhere between 1998 and 2000.
Is it because of subclinical depression? Or an adjustment disorder that never properly adjusted? I still have this anger and bitterness toward the job loss. I'm not quite sure I'm done grieving my best friend's mother's death. I don't know if I've actually recovered from graduate school. While right now we're fine, thoughts of money cloud my vision.
I've also lost interests in things, which I attribute mostly to grad school. I lost interest in TV specifically. So when I would disappear in the office to run on a treadmill, I would just turn on HGTV and go. Now, my brainspan consists of Dog Whisperer, and at that point, I'm usually just on the couch with my cat.
2016 has got to be different. I've made small changes, and I can literally see in front of me what will happen if I don't get my shit together. On one hand, I've lost weight while down here, getting to where I need to tighten my belt loop another slot. On the other, I continue to be somewhat inactive, if lifting parents/puttying back on the microwave door/constantly doing laundry and other chores don't count.
I'm hopeful for June 1st. I want to see if life has settled by then. Maybe I wouldn't have lost 20 pounds, but maybe my parents will have moved and the license will be real, and I'll be settling into a new work life, finally using my degree. Maybe we'll have more money and he'll almost be done school. There's a lot that can be accomplished this year...
... I just need to have patience that it will come, when it comes.