But, what about if you struggle, struggle with actually doing what you think you want to do?  How do you get yourself to the point where you can finally move?

It took me about 32 years, ok, that’s probably pretty dramatic, but it felt like it took longer than it should have to finally start moving again, and by the way, it wasn’t too late.   Yes, sometimes I kick myself for not doing it sooner, and sometimes I feel jealous when someone says they’ve been practicing Yoga for 12 years; i want to be that person already…but i have to remember and be OK with the fact that I’m not, but i’m here now and i will be that person in 10 years, if i keep practicing.

I get jealous of younger people for having found Yoga already, i wish i had kept practicing when i found it in my twenties and did it for a few weeks, here and there, on my apartment floor with Rodney Yee on the DVD.   but i didn’t, so i have to be content  and happy with the fact that i’ve found it now, finally.   How did i get here?  It was not easy and i think it’s an important story,  but i’ll give you a short answer first, just in case you don’t have the time…I finally got sick enough of myself.

you have to get really honest with yourself and ask yourself why you aren’t doing what you want to do.

i’ve dealt with depression for a long, long time, and then alcoholism added to it and perpetuated that depression; magnified it, maintained it.  For years, my biggest battle was (and sometimes still is, but i’ve gotten a lot better about this, with this) with myself, in the morning, in bed.  This is very common.  I would wake up already beating myself up about the things that i should have done already, the things i should be doing and the things i wanted to get to.  And it all paralyzed me.  i could put myself back to sleep, until about 2pm, 3 was generally the latest i would let myself go, then another layer of guilt would drop on me about not getting up until 3 in the after noon, what a perpetual motion.  when i had to work, getting up was easy, unless i was hung over, then it was very hard or i would just stay up for fear that i wouldn’t make it to work on time.  it was exhausting, and on top of all of that, i was gaining weight.  to me, i was beginning to look disgusting.  I wasn’t an over-eater, not by any means, under-eater, really.  To me, in the end (and by end, i mean when i quit drinking) it just seemed that the weight was an outward symbol of my depression.  As if to say to me, “you aren’t getting it, not mentally, so how about visually?”  i saw it.  i wasn’t doing anything and i was growing, i hardly recognized myself.

then my brother told me that he quit drinking, and i could just hear it in his voice; he was different, he was better for it.  He just told me his story, he didn’t try to talk me into quitting, but he wanted me to know the difference in him, and he knew our similarities.  i heard him.  and i quit a week or two later (which, by the way, is crazy to me that i don’t remember anymore…i never thought i would stop counting the days).  It was NOT easy, and i wish, so much, that i had Yoga in my life then, and i wish i could say that is when i found Yoga, but it wasn’t.  I wend to AA for a few months (and i’m simplifying to get to the Yoga part) which helped me tremendously, and while i don’t still go, i often think about going back to meetings (not because i think i need them to keep me from drinking, but for support; to give and to get it and to share my story).  And, all the while, i was in a long distance relationship and we were trying to decide  what we should do, how we should get closer, geographically.  We had decided that i would move to where he was, in Las Vegas, and move i did.

i found Yoga when i was in Las Vegas.  I had hit a point that sort of felt like another bottom.  He dealt with depression too, and while i was worlds better than i had been, before i quit drinking, i was still struggling with depression.  I felt like i had hit a second phase, as it were.  A sort of , “ok, you’ve gotten past and through a huge chunk of time with sobriety (it had been a little over a year by then), how about we work on a cleaner you now, and get to the rest of it?”  and so, i had gotten sick of myself again.  I believe that at that time, it was helpful that i was with somebody, that i wasn’t just accountable to me, but that i was viewing myself through what could have been his eyes, but what was really just a different way of me viewing myself.  i did not like what i was seeing.  i was sleeping really late again.  I wasn’t doing anything for me.  i was adding nothing to our relationship or my life.  And i was not going to go on that way anymore.

i believe that, for me, just making that choice and really meaning it was empowering.  Finding a doctor and going and admitting all my pain was empowering.  Committing to going to the gym and finally going, regularly, was empowering.  I went to a gastroenterologist to get tested for Celiac Disease (it’s hereditary and it runs in my family) and tested positive.  During this time I also traveled back to Illinois to work on a TV pilot (i am a grip in the motion picture and television industry as well) and went to a Yoga class with my sister.  That was it.  When she said that she had started taking classes down the street from the house, i jumped at the chance to go with her.  I had always wanted to, and she had tested the waters.  She could help be cross through that doorway comfortably, that ’s what i needed.  I had always had the hardest time going to new places; i had such social anxiety.  My sister helped me through that door and onto the mat.  I loved it.  I want to say i loved it as much as i thought i was going to, but i believe i love it more.  I could not anticipate how much it would mean and be for me.  Once i finished that first class, i was into it.  I had no problem walking into any Yoga studio, center or class at any gym.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, Yoga helps Yoga.  there’s built-in “stuff” in Yoga that perpetuates a practice, that helps perpetuate a good life.  Yoga and quitting drinking have saved me; they have helped me be more clear.  Soon after I began practicing, i felt that i wanted to teach.  So, i entered a teacher training program at that place where i took my first class (The Himalayan Yoga and Meditation Center in Palatine) and just know that I want to do this.   I want to help people get what i received.  If i can do that, i just really believe that is something.  I want to help spread this around.

In 2006, i could barely get out of bed to do anything.  I’m a different person now, but i remember how i felt then, i don’t know that I’ll forget that version of me.  i think it’s a good thing that i remember how bad i felt, it keeps me going sometimes.  So, my point is, i know, i know it’s hard to get there sometimes.  just be honest with yourself, as to why you’re not doing it, what ever “it” is.  believe me, i’m still asking myself, i’m still working on it.  i’ve come a long way from those days, but i still have those battles in the morning…

don’t beat yourself up too much, it just makes it worse, for sure.

namaste, kory

P.S.  by the way,  i don’t mean to say that you all need to quit drinking.  that was what i had to do, that was what came up when i got really honest with myself.  it’s different for everybody, it’s just about asking yourself the questions and answering honestly.

My apologies for my lengthy absence.  At least I think it was lengthy.  I was thinking about the blog recently and realizing that I’ve gotten pretty far away from my original purpose.  I had a plan with this one – to give other bad housekeepers the comfort that comes in knowing that you are not alone.  Now if I had miraculously changed and become the perfect little housewife, it would make sense that things would change, but things are more or less as they were when I started: messy.  I have about a dozen different areas in my house that need a LOT of work right now and about an ounce of motivation to work on them.  I am much more interested in reading, crafting or just lying around being lazy.  And pregnancy doesn’t help this lack of motivation.

Anyway, I don’t have time right now for a long post as I have to pack up a baby gift, clear all the snow off my van, have sandwiches ready for Mike and drive the gift to the church when he comes home for lunch.  I am going to a partylite party tonight so I won’t be able to make it to the baby shower happening at the church.  I don’t plan to buy a single thing at the party, but the hostess is a good friend and I told her I’d be a body for her so she has enough people.  

If I have a bit more time in the afternoon, I may write a bit more about the house then, but otherwise, it will probably be later in the week.

I’ve been trying, rather unsuccessfully, to stick to an exercise regime. The longest I have been regular is a month and the shortest two days. I’ve tried everything I could think of to make this very necessary evil as fun as possible. Right from motivating myself by buying new gym wear (looking good is critical to feeling good) to working out with a trainer (maybe someone else to keep me going will help), from working out at home (it’s more convenient and time saving) to changing my exercise routine to include activities such as skipping or badminton (exercise should be fun). It hasn’t worked beyond a point. The gym wear got old, the trainer wasn’t really that great, the treadmill at home began to get boring and no one was around to play badminton with.

It isn’t a lack of knowledge or awareness either that keeps me from exercising. I have even tried to scare myself into exercising. Watched horrifying and real-life videos of health risks that obese people suffer, listened to and read about what just half an hour of exercise can do for you, how it has changed people’s lives, how good they feel after they have lost all that extra weight… The works. It still hasn’t motivated me enough to keep up an exercise programme of some sort.

So here’s my problem. I understand the benefits of exercise and that I should be doing it like a sacred ritual every day. I also understand that this motivation needs to be intrinsic in order for it to work. I believe once I see drastic changes in the way I look and feel, I will keep at it. But I also know that these changes are not going to be instant and they will take at least a couple of months to surface. (Remember my longest stint with working out has been a month!) In spite of this rather solid understanding, I cannot seem to keep at regularly working out. Any suggestions to keep me going would be very welcome. As a thank you, you (and everyone else) can read about my challenges and how I overcame them using your suggestions on this very public (and popular) blog!

Just so you don’t waste any breath, here is a list of things I’ve already tried:

1. Working out at home

2. Working out in a gym (with and without a trainer)

3. Enlisting company to work out with me (family and friends)

4. Working out to music, TV, and without these

5. Motivating myself by writing down very specific weight loss goals (x lbs in y months) and looking at them everyday

6. Publicly announcing these goals to family and friends

7. Working out at a specific time each day

8. Working out at different times every day

9. Visualising myself in the desired weight range, in new clothes (I’ve even gone to shops and decided I’m going to buy a particular dress or shirt after the three months!)

10.  Scaring myself into exercising (health scares)

I’m sorry if this list leaves you in a huff, but that’s pretty much where I am too! Any help would be much appreciated! Thank you!

I just told this computer here at work to remember my username and password. I really didnt want to do that, and now I cant figure out how to turn it off…

Today has been group day here at internship. I sat in on the “road to employment” workshop, and then the diabetes group. both were run differently and both were quite interesting.

Last night I went out with some co-workers for sushi and sake! the place was in the basement of the pru and therefore very ritzy. one of the girls had a coupon for $10 off the meal, which is why we went, but it ended up being super pricey anyway, so the coupon offered very little benefit. sushi was good tho, and conversation was better. thats the point of these evenings anyway, now isnt it.

its about to be a weekend where I really dont have any work to do! I should be planning for my upcoming projects, especially the one that is going to be due december 1st, because that will be here before I know it. I should at least determine the topics I would like to write about, because then I can be thinking about them. its hard, I have to analyze a change effort in the Fenway neighborhood, and I have no idea what im going to do. I’ve done some preliminary research on teh google, but I havent really found anything.

All I feel like doing is eating french fries and sleeping. I’m going to try and not go out tonight. money is scarce, and the less I drink tonight the more productive my day will be tomorrow. maybe someone wants to do something with me. I’ve been working so hard, I’ve forgotten what you’re supposed to do with a weekend.

I bought a sweatshirt that is actually a dress! I think I’ll just wear that all weekend and watch television.

I want it to snow! I may retract that statement once the snow actually comes tho.

I watched dark city with a housemate last night. reminds me of evergreen!

Feeling mellow today. Neither horribly happy or deeply depressed. Woke up and greeted the day without much trouble. Still getting used to this putting the hour back thing.

A lot is going to be coming up in the next few days.

If anything this week I must finish my Asian presentation, JET application, and study for my two tests.

Trying to survive. I’ve decided that I am going to try out the vegetarian lifestyle for the entire month. No real motive or reason. Just want to try it out. I hope it goes better than trying to quit drinking coffee though. This is something I must research.

I know I never smile lately. I’m gloomy inside and lacking confidence I once had. I hate how I judge myself by my grades. If I’m not doing the absolute best I could do I feel horrible, and that’s why this semester has been hard.

I’ve lost interest in school especially things I have no interest in. I have to learn it just because others tell me to. I find myself reading during these lectures than anything else. I hope I pass these classes. Haha…

Being mellow is fine because I’m thinking with my head and not my dick. It’s just been so annoying to have this insatiable thirst for sexual desires. I don’t know if today is a fluke, but I welcome a change if my Johnny has finally calmed down.

Its been two weeks since I injured my calf and I have been working long days as my weeks have dropped to 4 day working weeks to travel for courses and physio sports  training. I have not eaten 6 times a day and I have failed to drink 4 litres of water a day. The braces were so painful I could not eat much and lost weight as my metabolism has increased.  I have been extremely tired as I have been fitting in those must do social events until the late hours of the morning. I have been getting about 6 hours sleep a night and I need 7 to 8 hours.

I have found how easy it is to get in a rut and go through the motions of the day. My training has dropped off with the injury and it is frustrating as I was doing so well. I think the most important aspect of this phase of my training is getting rest and being healthy for the base training. This starts in November and unless I change something it will have a knock on effect through to my phase 1 and 2 training.

I look at my diary and I can see if I get through the next two weeks I will have more time to eat and drink properly. Luckily I do have time on my side as I started training so early. I have been resting my injuries and stretching and this week training has improved.

I personally know I must diarise changes in my life otherwise I fill it up with other things to do very quickly. Knowing this about myself I have gone to my work diary and put a 2.5 hour block in the middle of the day to train and eat and I work until later in the day. I have done this for Monday and Wednesday and I can train in the mornings on Tuesday and Thursday. I found the gym was busy and the best time to train was between the hours of 1pm and 4pm so I have blocked these times off. I will try this schedule for the next 6 weeks and see how I manage. I have one more physio course to do mid-week on two weeks time so that will upset the schedule slightly.

I am not going out late at nights now so as to rest and this gives me more time to relax, recover and do blogging. I can see how useful it would be to have a mental coach to discuss my concerns, thoughts and actions.

I went to a speakers presentation two weeks ago and was introduced to Chris Janzen. He is a life coach with a special interest in Ironman athletes. He is planning to interview the elite athletes and find out what they do differently to the rest of us and then share this knowledge.  He said he would like to work with me in any way he can. This feels like a great way to vent my frustrations and concerns and also to have a psychological plan for getting through the training and then the race. My coach Fran thinks I do not need his help but I think having someone else who is not involved  in my training to talk to can help me get a mental perspective. Fran is the number one motivator and supporter and I know Chris will not step over the boundaries.

I call Chris my Mental Coach and I will keep him updated on my progress. He will work with me more into the new year when he returns from work overseas.

I find I have more time as I have said no to many social events however I find myself contacting people when I am resting and arranging to meet up with more people. I have arranged to meet them during the day and not at night so lets see how I manage this.

Next week my base training starts. Fran has got a new program for me and I will be strength training for the next 4-6 weeks. Last night I did squats in the smith machine with plates under my heals to ease the pressure on my back and calves. This morning I can feel some tightness on the sole of my left foot but otherwise all is good. Bring on the change in training.

i had a sort of revelation the other day.

i suck at taking care of myself. no, not in some deep, philosophical sense but in the most basic definition of the term. i don’t eat properly, don’t sleep properly, don’t dress properly (ie very weather inappropriate and considering the fact that i’m in raincouver, one would think that i have an umbrella super glued to my hand..yea, no.) don’t really know what it is that is preventing this from happening slash what it is that keeps me doing the same stupid things that lead to the same stupid results.

in other words, i’m procrastinating again. performing what i do best, a pseudo masterpiece on academic masochism but fear not because the best is yet to come. seems like each semester gets steadily worse and my lack of motivation merely increases.

maybe i’ll just listen to the rain some more and see what inspiration i can draw from it.

oh right. none.

it’s ok though. this will be my rainy view soon enough…

i can’t wait.

It’s the perfect storm. It’s been rainy and unseasonably cold for weeks. Youngest Son has hardly had time to text me, let alone come home for a visit. He’s the strong-minded son that can often motivate me to get off my lazy butt and sprint up hills with him or make me lift weights. As I noted a few posts ago, I was having trouble finding motivation to write. Looking at the whole picture, I’m having trouble doing much of anything. I’m not depressed or anything–nothing more serious than the seasonal blues I get from lack of warmth and sunshine. And, after talking with Youngest Son, who finally managed to come home this weekend only because his school has a 4-day fall break, I may just need to add some self-imposed torture structure to my life.  Just a little.  Just temporary. I may need to get myself a temporary job.

It’s funny he mentioned this.  I love my life.  I love my work schedule.  Due to our extreme awesomeness and efficiency at work, my 12-month part-time job became a 2-month seasonal full-time with overtime job over the years.  This schedule suits all of us.  They only need to pay me when they really need me. I recuperate, enjoy my summer, get projects done, get lazy, and then repeat the cycle.  The laziness has settled in with a vengeance this month.  I DID bake cookies last week, which shocked the hell out of Oldest Son, but that was only because Big Daddy’s been craving baked goods and I couldn’t find anything cheaper than $3.99/dozen in the bakery.  I’m cheaper than I am lazy.  But as much as I love the freedom of structuring my own days, the thought has recently crossed my mind to maybe find a temp job until the end of the year.

Like Youngest Son said, you get more done when you have to do it.  I do manage to get the essentials done, whether I’m working or not.  But somehow, making yourself have to get up early and forcing upon yourself that sense of urgency that comes from having limited free time helps push you to do more.  And not feel so much like a lazy slug.  And God knows September always drains the family finances.  Two college tuition bills, school supplies, the BIG real estate tax payment, and the quarterly car insurance payment make September quite the bleak month.  And the damn van still hasn’t sold!  It’s not like I couldn’t use the extra cash.

But I’ll have to think this through a little more.  Later today Youngest Son and I are planning to hit the track.  I won’t have so much time to do this if I’m working.  And the morning’s supposed to be extra chilly, which means I’ll feel so cozy with the covers pulled up over my head.  It’s 2:00am right now and I don’t need to be in bed. I’ve always been a night person.  Early morning makes me gag.  What’s a lazy mama to do?  Stay tuned while I try to figure out the answer.

I was holding steady at 160, waiting to drop over to the 150’s, even if only 159 for a brief moment.  But it never happened.  It’s like my body claims it needs to be firmly embedded into the 160’s, never again to return to anything even remotely close to my former self.  I spent most of my life never going over 135-140. 

Looks like I’ll never see those numbers again.  And these aren’t even the crazy numbers.  We all have those.  The ones that you were at in high school, college, before kids, whatever.   If I wanted to be insane, I’d be hanging on to the pipe dreams of the 126-130 range. 

That’s insane. 

So my goal for a long time has been 145.  A nice, happy medium and the closest I have ever gotten back to that was for my wedding.   I got down to 149 and by the time I set foot back in town after the honeymoon, it seemed I was back to my bloated 166-self.  The number I started at when I wanted to lose weight for my wedding. 

Luckily, I’m not quite that high anymore, but the other day when my 160 plateau was compromised and I saw a 161 staring back at me, I worried for a moment.  Just a moment because we all fluctuate.   I didn’t bother posting about it because there hasn’t been anything noteworthy to say.  I was stuck at 160 and keeping with the routine that got me there. 

For the most part.

Then I saw 162 returning to the scale.  Now I’m IRRITATED. 

Irritated because it’s the start of the rubber-band effect that I ALWAYS get myself into.  At this rate, I’ll be back to my 166 in no time. 

I’m also irritated that for some reason when I start to lose, I start to get lax.  Not terribly, but just enough that the weight creeping back on is sneaky and stealth-like.  I’m irritated because why does this have to be so difficult for me?

I go to the same parties, outings, dinners as everyone else I know, yet they don’t seem to have it so hard.  I seriously doubt ALL of these people are sweating it out at the gym nearly as much as me.  In fact, some of these people I know for a fact aren’t at all.  Some of them will cut out one thing or alter one little thing about their lifestyle and voila!  The few nagging pounds they needed to lose seem to melt away.  

Do I really have to be that person who can’t enjoy going out?  The one who’d rather order a steak but has to get the salad with dressing on the side?  What fun is going out?  I can do that crap at home. 

Do I really have to be that person who can never reach for a snack?  I don’t buy nearly the garbage that many people have at home at arm’s length.  I make exceptions every now and then, especially during the changing seasons, but trust me, it’s not an every day occurence.  Or even a weekly occurence, for that matter.

Do I really have to be that person that can never miss a workout because if they do, lookout?  I do know one thing about myself with this category in that once I start to miss, I have a really hard time going back.  Coupled with the weather starting to get cold and both my mind and my body would prefer to stay in bed.  All day, if it were possible.    

So there’s my problem.  I’ve officially fallen off the wagon and I have no one to blame but myself.

And I am irritated. 

Maybe others can offer me advice.  I’d gladly take it.

As I sit back and read Mr. Zizek, I can’t help but think of a conversation that happened in the FVIM lounge last year with me and a colleague. He’s very enthusiastic and I think he makes a very good and quirky director. (My other guyfriend is absolutely in love with him, because this dude is cute…unfortunately, he has a supercute girlfriend.)

Me: “I wish there was another option besides art history at this school. Like literature or pyschology or philosophy.”

Dude: “Man, I’d love to have a philosophy course, but a prerequisite of the course is that all the students would not be allowed to talk. If I had to teach philosophy at Emily Carr, I’d be a tyrant of a teacher. I’d be like “Okay, you art students, let me teach you REAL philosophy that’s deeper than the half baked shit you cite and quote your art pieces with and don’t understand”.”

The other day I happened to bump into another girl who’s in film and I look up to. She will make an amazing producer, she’s finished a degree in business and now is embarking on the art education thing. She got a job at Sony, but then took a deal with Lionsgate instead. She’s debating whether to stay at school because she said school and the real world are two completely different things and school on the most part is significantly useless.

Her story reminded me of a designer friend who left after a while. He sat in a design class and his teacher literally went:

“The truth is you guys probably won’t get jobs being a designer if you don’t have an education, it’s a competitive world out there and maybe only a handful of you guys will actually work at a firm…” etc

He sat there laughing his ass off because he designs things freelance and he had just started design at our school. He told me that our school is all just talk. One piece of advice he gave before he left was: “Just make a super sweet ass portfolio. That’s all anyone cares about in the real world.”

I’ve begun to understand them way much more with the way my life has been changing the past two months. How school has become incredibly secondary and some nights I’m up doing art til’ like 2am and go: “Oh shit, I have school right.” Wake up the next morning, run, am the asshole who comes in late and is nodding off half way through lecture. Or the douche on her macbook in the back, checking work emails and shit like that. I think I’m headed on the same path as a talented cinematographer I barely see around in FVIM anymore, he sums up his academic career at this school:

“Man, I used to be so sharp and so studious, but I went from a 3.9 GPA in foundation and second year to an academic warning this year. Fuck. I honestly wouldn’t care if I failed but then there goes all my money.”

Why on earth does it seem like lots of teachers at the Emily Carr University seem so very very confused about what they’re doing? It’s like they’re running through class trying to figure out how to teach you something, when…duh, a prerequisite of teaching at a university is …education in teaching? The ability to teach? You’d think you’d get bunk high school teachers, but my high school teachers had their shit together in comparison to what I have to put up with at school on a daily.

And another thing: why is the two after effects class, Compositing and Motion Graphics two different courses… Uhh… my school is very good at making money. If only they used that useless 1.5 hr of theory (on fucking what, AFTEREFFECTS?!??!) and did a technical intensive of the two meshed together and I wouldn’t mind if the class was more than three hours, the two should be together… considering it’s October, and all we’ve learnt how to do in aftereffects is move text in Motion Graphics. (Uh. It’s a good thing I learnt more last term outside of class fiddling with the damn thing)

So in the midst of my belly aching, I have a couple of goals I will make and fuck all school in the process of doing.

1. (top priority) Finish my video game project by December.
2. Practice by drawing whatever inspires me on the daily. At the moment, it’s a zelda comic i found on the ground.
3. Try to take pictures of daily thoughts. If I have a thought, then I can learn how to convey it in a visual, and if I don’t have a thought, a visual might give me one.
4. Finish this damn scarf I have been knitting while I’ve been antsy at school.
5. Start on my dad’s gloves for thanksgiving.
6. Try not to be snobby and read all the weird, random books in this house. (See: everything you need to know about jesus) This green cleaning book actually sounds interesting.

These are all short term goals. My long term goals are pretty unepic too, like not getting hit by a bus. Or learn how to deal with crazy quack quacks at school. I need to write a long term list… but I don’t. I don’t think anyone can make long term goals past five years. It’s ok to say, ok, I’ll grad in 2011 if I start 2007, but to say you’ll get married and have kids in five years is a long stretch. What in five years you have this obsessive urge to join the circus and fall in love with a transvestite?

LIFE IS FULL OF CHANGES.

PS. Damn you Emily Carr teachers! I have become one of those assholes who sit in the back of the class staring intensely into a laptop not giving the yappy theory teachers a chance. I have been a consumer of your so-named-sub-par-but-awesome websites like news sites, deviant art, flickr, etc and found much more inspiration there. I am the asshole you bust and say is this more interesting than what you’re teaching (YES) but the asshole reverses when I just secretly think: “If your class was MORE structured and actually interesting, I wouldn’t feel the necessity to wake up in the morning and go hmm, i need my macbook for this insanely boring class”

Lately, I’m lacking motivation to do anything.

I don’t want to work, I don’t want to clean, I don’t want to exercise or cook dinner or take a shower or talk to friends or water my plants, etc., etc., ETCETERA!

I mean…what gives here?

This total lack of motivation is weird.

Currently I have a package of Oreos sitting next to me (I’ve already eaten one row – a long row, not a short  3 Oreo stack) and all I can think of is how I shouldn’t be eating all these damn Oreos and I should be working on a presentation I need to give next week.

But  I can’t do it.

My hand reaches for the black cookie instead of the research books I have brought home to study. This is like the ultimate fail…can’t….control….hand….must….eaatttt…cooooookkiiieeee…..!!!

Really, recently, the only thing I can find myself doing over and over again is eating. I eat when I’m bored. I must be bored a lot. But what’s weird is that I’m not really that bored. I mean, I have things to do around here that could keep me stimulated, but I don’t want to do them. I would rather just grab my package of Oreo crack and sit on the couch, read about people on the internet and watch movies all day. (I just ate the filling out of one of my cookies…..see, I’m still eating those damn things).

I think I’m in a rut…but I don’t know what kind of rut. Hmmmmm….I also have an ache in my stomache….stupid declious cookies.

 HealthDay (9/8, Dotinga) reported that, according to a study published Sept. 9 in the Journal of the American Medical Association, the “the trouble concentrating that affects people with attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (AD/HD) might be related to motivation.” Specifically, “the motivational problems seen with” AD/HD “appear to stem from a reduction in” the neurotransmitter dopamine. For the study, researchers from the US National Institute on Drug Abuse and the Brookhaven National Laboratory recruited “53 adults with AD/HD” who “underwent positron emission tomography (PET) scans for dopamine markers.” Next, the team “compared the results with PET scans of 44 adults without the condition.” In participants with AD/HD, the investigators found “disruptions in the two dopamine pathways associated with reward and motivation.”   WebMD (9/8, Warner) pointed out that “the results offer new insight into AD/HD, as well as help explain why people with AD/HD may be more likely to abuse drugs or become obese.” Lead study author Nora D. Volkow, MD, stated, “Our results also support the continued use of stimulant medications — the most common pharmacological treatment for AD/HD — which have been shown to increase attention to cognitive tasks by elevating brain dopamine.”   CBC News (9/9), BBC News (9/8), the UK’s Daily Mail (9/9, Hope), and the UK’s Telegraph (9/8, Smith) also covered the story.

and again

and again

To say I’m frustrated would be putting it lightly.   Today I dragged myself to the gym after a 4 day lapse.  Long holiday weekend will do that I guess.  I have to stop making excuses on weekends and find a way to squeeze in a workout.  This might have been asking too much on this particular weekend when I had school, house cleaning for guests, grocery shopping, more cleaning, birthday festivities for me and my brother, and yard planting going on.  All excuses I suppose, yet wouldn’t you think by being so busy and running around that it would help me to lose weight? 

Nope.

I am right back at 164 . . . again.

The number I keep bouncing back to.  I keep losing anywhere between 2 and 4 pounds and they always come back. 

I don’t know what to do anymore other than my assignment given to me by the wellness coach at work.  I am supposed to meet with him in about 3 weeks to assess my eating journal.  Too bad I gave up writing in it.   It’s the same story over and over again.  Obviously it isn’t working for me because I can’t ever get to 160, let alone the 150 that I should be aiming for. 

So today I’ll start again.  I will mark down my foods this evening and go from there.  I already got the workout in so that’s half the battle.

***

Well, I’m back to log everything down.  I burned almost 400 calories at the gym.  My usual routine so no need to jot the details I guess.

Banana, 90 cal.

Babybel lite, 50 cal.

Hummus, 35o cal.

1 pita, 120

calamata olives, 100

mandarin oranges, 80

homemade burger w/cheese, 630 (yikes!)

fries (very small amount), 50

2 pickles (figured it was better than going for more fries), 30 cal.

One Great Lakes Dortmunder Gold (divine!), 180

If I did the math right this should add up to = 1685

A little over the 1500 I was shooting for but I burned those 400 cal. at the gym, so hopefully that helps.

Back at it tomorrow.

I have been staying at home for the past two days in an attempt to recover from the surgery. At least it seemed to be the surgery at first. Until after all these days I looked around myself and realized that I have unravelled into a complete mess. My table is cracking under the weight of papers to read, bills, letters, To Do lists, clipped coupons, receipts, magazines and books. The sink full with cups (from tea/water), which I couldn’t even transfer to the dishwasher. My clothes from the past few days – a pile on my bed, with my cat perched on top. The floor in an obvious need for being vacuumed.
I am depressed, hopeless for the future, extremely sad about Mom, Dad, my brother, about Him, about my friends … Am so furious at myself to not being able to cope better, for being so helpless; even though I weakly try to stay fair and keep reminding myself constantly about the world I have lost in the past nine months…
My thoughts are out of control, as I am taking stock of me as a failure. Work that is not getting less and my inability to cope with it neither as quantity nor as complexity it seems; my To Do tasks growing exponentially and me not tracking any progress lately. Then I turn my criticism strictly to my physical self, lashing out at myself at the realization that I barely make it to the shower each day, that I haven’t been able to push myself to work out, that I have not cooked anything for ages (ever since He hasn’t been over) - always eating out and comfort food lately. It deteriorated to the point that going out to grab something for lunch both yesterday and today I did not bother putting on some normal clothes, but left in sweatpants…the latter appeared to have been my tipping point. I almost saw myself from the side, as somebody who used to know me before and I realized that my life has become a total mess, I myself am a total mess, I have lost control within my life and I have even lost the motivation to control anything. I don’t care. I don’t want to care. In these past months, every time I have pulled together all my strength against all odds and tried to contain and mend the chaos around me, it has found its way to break free in a different area – more vicious, more powerful. I am so tired, so disheartened, hurt even more - I wonder whether my entire life is to be destroyed, before I can start rebuilding.

I leave the apartment to get late lunch and easing into the world outside I step into somebody else’s life – am surprised how pleasurable the weather, how bursting of life this September afternoon is; then I stumble across my own thoughts –  finding strangers’ looks in my direction intrusive, almost embarassing. I crave to be alone, can’t bear feeling the chasm between life outside and the mess that is inside. I rush to get back to the dimmed cocoon that is my place and to disconnect. I don’t want to care about anything. Nine months have passed by and I can’t shake the feeling that I am in a personal nightmare that I cannot wake from, yet am lucid enough to recognize that these nine months are a sinister bite out of my own life, that it is my actual life that is so confusing and that it is me who is incapitated and unable to do anything about it. Feel so utterly exhausted and mentally tortured, the only viable strategy right now seems to be inaction. I don’t want to feel, I don’t want to even try to be happy. Frasier was shocked when he heard me say the latter. I elaborated that I feel chained to this mess, so much so that even envisioning happiness makes it even more depressing. And I tried steering myself into situations with a happiness potential or payout. Like Him. Or work. Respectively. And both provided for even bigger disppointments. I forced myself to sleep, and eat, read, work out, be diligent, keep contact with people regardless how I felt, keep my apartment and bills/finances in order. All I see is my efforts keeping me in a great shape … to suffer more, to remember more, to be more alert for all the numbing pain. So, I don’t give a shit anymore. I don’t feel like doing anything; I don’t feel like I should act responsibly; I don’t want to be a team player, since I am on a team that sees this as a weakness that is exploitable; I don’t like seeing anyone; I don’t feel like talking to people, because the effort seems unsurmountable; I don’t want to spend even a sliver of an attempt to date anybody, as all my efforts will end up in more disppointment; don’t want to deal with the sickening environment that is work right now resembling the Stanford prison experiment in a twisted way more and more as the economy suffers and my line of managers getting a tighter grip, convinced that we still don’t try hard enough. With Mom dying, I lost one of the most important people in my life and with Him leaving, I lost somebody I was in love with. Both relationships were the source of powerful, life sustaining energy and a foundation for dreams about a future. In a sadistic twist though I get keep this unhealthy work envionrment.  Even when I tried to escape it. The only hope I am hanging onto right now is that I just haven’t found the right direction, that what I perceive as an escape in this very moment is the result of being desperate for normalcy, for a break, and hence is short-sighted.

For the time being, I have decided that I won’t care. And will continue going through the daily movements as much as I can with as little internal involvement as possible… “Detachment” – that is the word I was looking for.

Therapy doesn’t always help. That doesn’t mean that it can’t help and that a second chance isn’t indicated. But, it does mean that you will need to ask yourself a few questions about what is going wrong.

There are several possibilities:

1. Misdiagnosis. If, for example, you have an alcohol or drug problem, but the therapist wasn’t told about it or didn’t realize its significance, treatment is almost certain to fail. Similarly, if you have a Bipolar (manic-depressive) Disorder that goes untreated (these can be difficult to diagnose), it will be hard to profit from therapy. I have seen many adults, for example, who have the inattentive form of ADHD and have never been diagnosed and treated for the condition, even though they have seen more than one therapist.

2. Insufficient motivation. Have you been giving therapy a sufficient chance? Do you go to sessions religiously? Do you follow through on any “homework” assignments that you and the therapist discuss? If you are not sufficiently open and dedicated to getting better, then treatment is likely to fail. Defensiveness in the treatment process and inconsistent attendance are major problems. With respect to lack of effort, the old joke goes: “How many therapists does it take to change a light bulb?” Answer: “One, but the light bulb has to want to be changed.”

3. The therapist/patient match. Do you feel sufficiently comfortable with the counselor? That doesn’t mean that therapy will never make you uncomfortable (change isn’t easy and it is often painful), but it does mean that the therapist is someone you can trust, who is sincere, and who is competent. Does the therapist have sufficient understanding of your life circumstances? This doesn’t necessarily mean that he has lived through a similar situation or has an identical background, gender, age, or religion; but he will need to understand where you are coming from.

4. The tempo of therapy. Does the therapist push too hard? Do you find yourself too often overwhelmed by the issues and feelings being stirred up in your sessions? Or perhaps, do things seem to go too slow? Are the sessions becoming boring and unproductive?

5. Activity level of the therapist. Is the counselor too active and probing for you? Does he seem to have a plan and a direction for your treatment (he should)? Is he too controlling, seeming to follow an agenda that is inflexible and ignores what you need? Or, alternatively, is he too passive, simply waiting for you to talk about whatever you want, regardless of how far afield this might lead the treatment?

6. Is the therapist too friendly? Does he want (or is he open to) a friendship or anything other than a therapeutic relationship (he shouldn’t be). Or, is he too distant and uninvolved?

7. Type of therapy. Therapists are not all equally comfortable and competent at the multiple types of treatment available. Some problems have been subjected to well documented and researched treatments (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, for example). If your therapist is using the wrong treatment approach, you are not likely to benefit as much as you could.

8. Medication. Would you do better if you were on medication? If you are on medication, might you improve more with a different medication?

9. The therapist’s problems. Does the therapist seem stable? Does he act in an inappropriate way in the sessions? Does he become angry and critical? Is he judgmental rather than supportive? Does he talk about his own current problems?

If you are still in therapy and you have concerns about its effectiveness or any of the issues mentioned above, it is usually best to voice those issues to your counselor. He should not only be open to hearing what you have to say, but want to be responsive. Therapists are not mind readers and won’t always figure out what you are thinking or worried about unless you say it. Do your homework and try to find out what therapeutic approaches might be more appropriate for you (your therapist should be able to describe at least some alternatives). If he cannot provide you with the kind of treatment you are asking for, he should be able to come up with some very good reasons for what he is doing. If those reasons are unconvincing, perhaps a second opinion is indicated and he should be open to this idea, as well. If you remain sure that this therapist is not the right one for you, getting a referral from him to someone else is entirely appropriate.

If, on the other hand, you have had unsatisfying experiences in therapy before and are not now in treatment, but are thinking of trying again, make sure that you have attempted to investigate your potential new therapist’s background and experience. Also, when you talk to him on the phone, ask about his therapeutic approach. If you do decide to see him, talk about the things that didn’t work in previous therapy attempts, as well as those that did.

Be as informed as you can be. Unlike brain surgery, you aren’t going to be passive and unconscious during treatment. You are going to participate and interact with someone who, you hope, is well trained and dedicated and compassionate. Evaluate what is going on in treatment in an open and thoughtful way; collaborate with the therapist.

You will be glad you did.

That’s right.  Today is my brother-in-law’s birthday and my sister is planning a Thanksgiving-style dinner since that’s his favorite.  He looks forward to the holiday season every year and is kinda bummed that we only have the big turkey dinner with all the trimmings and sides, once at Thanksgiving and again at Christmas.  So that means we get to stuff ourselves sick early this year.  I’m going to try to be reasonable.

As for the rest of my weekend, it’s been so-so.  For starters I had no desire, time, or motivation to workout.  I pushed myself so hard all week.  I worked out an ellusive FIVE times this week.  I never reach that fifth day.  It’s mostly been four days, tops.  While that sounds great, it’s probably not enough when you don’t try to squeeze in a weekend workout.  I do my worst eating on the weekends so I feel like it just ruins all the hard work from the week.  I don’t know what to do.  I like to enjoy my life.  There are always things going on over the weekend that center around eating or drinking.  It seems unavoidable. 

Case in point.  Friday I did pretty well all day.  Came home from work and had a half of a sandwich because I was heading to a neighborhood jewelry party and didn’t know what they would be serving. It was billed as a dessert type theme.  So I basically went over there without eating a true dinner.  Of course there were drinks all around.  I was handed this pink creamy martini moments after walking in the door.  No idea what was in it, but it was delish.  Then I switched to a glass of wine.  So two drinks.  Not bad.  Had just a few nibbles of the chocolately desserts.  One choc covered pretzel and there was one of those chocolate fountains.  I took mostly fruits and maybe dipped like 4 things.  So again, not bad.

Then the party migrated around and I ended up having a beer and a half and some chips and salsa.  Not a ton, but more nibbles that when you add them all up it equals danger. 

I got home and of course was hungry for real food and it was after 11pm.  I had like two cookies and two pieces of cheese.  So technically no dinner but more nibbles.  Ugh!

Got up early Saturday and had a bowl of cherrios with banana.  I had my first day of going back to school.  It was a three hour class plus 50 minutes of driving each way.  By the time I was nearing home I was starving!  My husband and I did a rare thing.  We went out to lunch.  So even though I didn’t eat dinner the night before, I certainly didn’t redeem myself.  We ate at a mexican restaurant and it was super yummy.  I haven’t had mexican (my favorite) in such a long time.  I didn’t overdo it and didn’t leave stuffed sick so that is always a good thing. 

We were busy doing things around the house most of the day and before I knew it, it was after 7pm and we needed to make dinner.  Ended up grilling some burgers.  Something easy.  We made fries but they didn’t turn out that great and it wasn’t worth the extra calories.  Later we had light ice cream.

Now this brings us to today, Sunday.  I just had a simple breakfast.  Two eggs and one slice of toast.  The day is starting off tame, but as I mentioned . . . today is early-Thanksgiving.

Back to the hamster wheel tomorrow.  I feel like I am not going anywhere with this.

It is so easy to lose interest in exercising when recuperating from a tkr. At first, the pain is so intense that the frustration level is….when is this going to end? I know that’s what it was like for me. And, the steps forward would be matched with steps backward. It’s unexpected. So…how do you stay motivated when all your gumption is out the window?

Take a break. By that I mean instead of doing your full set of tkr exercises, do one or two at a time. Do a couple later in the day. Break up your exercise routine.

Do isometrics. If the thought of doing your tkr rehab exercises is just too much, isometrics will help. They did in my case. While laying on either the sofa or bed, tighten your thigh and leg muscles. This strengthens your muscles and allows you to use them more efficiently. You’re getting exercise, only it may not seem like it.

Realize it is temporary. Everyone gets discouraged at times, it is only human. Instead of getting upset over your motivation being gone, accept the fact. It will pass.

Get off the sofa. The process of moving around will increase your physical activity. Something as simple as walking (did I say “simple” for a tkr patient?!) will help your tkr situation.

Don’t listen to what others say. People who haven’t gone through a tkr usually do not understand how difficult the recuperation process is. I know this suggestion is easier said than done.

Watch a comedy. Laugh until you cry. Laughter has a tendency to soothe the soul and massage your innards. Personally, there’s nothing better than watching Curly shoot that live oyster in his oyster stew or try to slap it silly. Or, Moe yelling…”Up to the basement!” or calling all high society women “toots”. The scene when the Stooges are playing golf comes to mind. Moe is divoting up the entire green. The grounds keeper goes nuts. Moe’s response…”Aw, what are you gripin’ about? They’re getting smaller aren’t they?” lol… Then there’s Larry trying to find the beginning of the wire. He keeps pulling on the wire until he circles the entire green and his head pops out of the ground. (You’ve got to see it to appreciate it.) And, Curly….he’s doing his laundry at the ball washer. I’ve gotta stop. I’m crying.

Or…the gopher in the original Caddyshack. Gotta love that vermin.

Hope this helps. It does get better. I promise.

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I guess I signed up for WordPress at some point in the past, I bet if I poked around enough somewhere on here would tell me…but I don’t know that I’m going to put that much work into it.  I’m mainly just messing around with it as a test-drive.  I’m trying to find a good place for Jen to do her blog, something with more features then Google Sites blog.

I’d like to write stuff on more of a regular basis, but I just really lack the drive and motivation to actually do it.  Maybe I’ll like this interface so much that I’ll start up publishing fun stuff on here.

Hope you’re doing good.

It’s official.  I’ve lost my workout mojo. 

The last time I worked out was last Wednesday in my afternoon pilates class.  I’m at that point where any little thing turns into an excuse.  Today I had a 5pm dentist appointment.  I got out of there around 5:45.   I wouldn’t be too far off from the time I normally get to the gym after work.  I really thought I’d do it.  Then I sat in accident traffic.  Ok, it wouldn’t be that much later than usual.  Then I got distracted by a phone call from my husband and before I knew it, I was on the route I take home and not the one to the gym. 

Another problem I’m having today is that I am STARVING!  We are getting to that point in our grocery supplies at home where I should probably make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on things, especially healthy things. 

A quick recap of what I ate is pretty telling:

scoop of light yogurt

lean cuisine meal

12 almonds

80 cal. fruit snack pack

And when I got home just now, a lowfat cheese snack.  And that’s it.  The calorie count total is probably around 500-600 calories.  And it’s after 7pm.  I am starving.  So no workout, again.

The bad part is we have leftover pizza from the other night so that’s what we are having for dinner.  Since I didn’t eat a whole heck of a lot today, it should be fine.

It would have been even better, however, if I got that workout in.

Please let my mojo return tomorrow . . .