Truly, I didn't intend to abandon my blog — or fat acceptance — after my last entry. The issue (my boyfriend asking me if I was "going to get bigger") did spin my head, in a lot of ways. It brought up a LOT of old, ugly feelings from my childhood, and let me tell you, old shit is so much harder to deal with than new shit. So there was that.
Also, when I recounted the "Are you going to get bigger?" story to a close friend, instead of sympathy, what I got was this reply: "You're fooling yourself if you think you're healthy." Followed by "I'm only saying this because I love you and don't want to see you hurting yourself."
I seethed for about a month, avoided the friend, and then sat him down and told him exactly what a load of crap he was dealing. In response, he was...patronizing, let's say. So there's been some fallout from that.
Also, I did, in fact, move in with my boyfriend at the beginning of December, and while actually living together is great, relationship-wise, the logistics have consumed all my extra energy. We combined 2 households into his tiny (900 square feet) house that has only 2 closets (one in each bedroom, and that's it), and the upshot is that we're STILL unpacking, 3 months after the move date.
All of that, plus the rest of real life (work, holidays, family) has just kept me from blogging. I've been reading the fatosphere, but I haven't had the time or energy to actually write, myself.
I want to get back to it, though, because this is important to me. This is important, period.
And because I'm back in a mindset that I don't like. Here's the sitch: back in mid-November, I sprained my ankle pretty badly, but it was recovering nicely after about a month. On Christmas Eve — 5 weeks after the sprain — I re-sprained the same ankle, horribly. So it's been about 8 weeks since Sprain II, and (with the help of a really good brace), I've been going back to the gym. I need to walk so that my ankle stays flexible and gets stronger. Plus, I don't like the way I feel when I'm sedentary — I feel sluggish, and I sleep poorly, and, well, I miss the endorphin buzz.
So I've been gradually increasing my walking time, as well as using the stationary bike at the gym, and I am loving that feeling I have when I'm finished — all warm and limp-dishrag-y yet energized and content. It's good.
Except, of course, for the mindset that I've slid back into. That's the mindset, of course, that kicks in the moment I do any vigorous physical activity: "Hey, I just worked out! I'll probably start losing weight any minute now, right? Right? I mean, I just burned calories! Why am I not losing weight? Why? WHYYYYYYYY?"
I'm not doing this to lose weight; I'm doing it for ankle rehab and because I love the endorphin buzz. Except, apparently, some part of me DOES think I'm doing this to lose weight, and now I'm getting buggy and obsessive about it — like, if I don't get to the gym 3 times in a week, I castigate myself for being "lazy" and tell myself I'll NEVER make any progress, now.
I definitely DON'T want to think that way. I'm trying so hard not to, but I can't eradicate it totally. I wish I knew how.
Anyway, hi again, y'all. I'm back.