Well, for a Saturday this is a late posting.
Normally I’d have done this ages ago – but today I’ve had to make a straight choice between squeezing the pips out of life and writing about it – and sadly my blog chicken cannot come before my escapades egg.
To be truthful when I awoke this morning I wasn’t sure how the day would end up – but I suspected it wouldn’t be good.
Whatever’s wrong with me is lingering – but not in a way that I can really put my finger on. My balance is just ever so slightly off. My is hearing slightly decreased too. This made me think I had an inner ear issue – but my stomach still feels odd (even a little bloated) and I’m still experiencing continually broken sleep.
Today I just felt odd. Peeky even.
This was confirmed by a fellow Slimming Worlder as I walked to my meeting.
‘You look peeky.’ She said, confirming my suspicion that I did indeed look ‘peeky’ as well as feeling it. She’s also a medical professional. They can tell right away.
‘I feel peeky.’ I replied – unable to muster much enthusiasm, probably due to my now confirmed diagnosis of peekyness.
I dragged my peeky body to the scales, which decided then and there that they hated me. They said that I had gained three and a half pounds after eating less this week than I have for a very long time, and throwing about a third of it up.
They too confirmed I was really peeky.
Angie underpinned their opinion shortly after in group therapy, whilst I sat with my arms folded in front of her, probably looking a bit glum.
She had no idea about my earlier clinical diagnosis of peekyness, or of its potential debilitating impact.
‘Dave’s not himself today bless him’ she said, glancing at my face and then to the info of my gain on her Slimming World tablet. In truth (oddly enough) that was when the day turned around.
Group therapy always cheers me up.
Although honestly the gain wasn’t going to get me down anyway.
It’s just a number, and it matters very little. That number will change next week, or maybe even the day after tomorrow. It will on balance always show a downward trend however, because that’s what I will it to be.
Nothing can be gained from feeling frustration about being unable to control my body occasionally. It will do what it wants.
As long as I keep treating it right as much as I can I’ll win.
It was while I was thinking just like this that Angie started talking about syns related to alcohol, pointing out as she did that I probably wouldn’t be interested because I don’t drink.
It still seems odd to me at times that people see me as a tee total, completely sober person – but it’s true. It’s almost 585 days since I last had any alcohol – and my life is infinitely better since I made that choice.
I can also see how far I’ve come when I look at a gain and just know that it’s only an inevitable part of the whole process of losing weight.
It’s not the end of the world. It would be if I decided it was and grabbed a kebab – but I won’t. Back when that and excessive daily drinking was my response to crisis I looked like a different man.
I don’t do self destruction any more. I have moved into the business of self renovation and instead I met up with my friend, headed to the outskirts of Coventry (near Coombe Abbey) and went for a five mile twalk with her in the Warwickshire countryside.
Boy – what a day we picked for it!
Everywhere I looked there were blue skies and little fluffy clouds and sunflowers
None of these were within video games, or on a nice bright HDTV sitting behind a closed curtain – they were out in the real world, where I live now, instead of my living room or my bed.
Even being diagnosed with full blown (and probably terminal) peekyness couldn’t dent my mood today. The world is stuffed with people I love, places I adore, people to talk to, things to learn or understand, choices to make, wonderful plants and wildlife to see and spiritual mountains to climb.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.
Life is a gift.
I recognise this maybe more acutely than some other people because what they may see as ‘just a walk’ I see for what it truly is.
It’s a time filled with possibility and detail, surrounded with an infinity of nature and growth and I can move in or out of it as I please, without pain, discomfort or difficulty. I can climb and jump and put one foot continuously in front of another – or I can just stop and drink it in – freeze a single moment and hold it like a droplet of water on the end of a melting icicle and then watch it go.
There are some days I’m filled with remorse.
Days where I look at images of myself years ago and feel anger over the sheer criminal waste of a life that I lived.
I stand naked in a mirror looking at the destruction it caused and often it makes me feel the same way too – but then I stop that train of thought and realise that the gifts of my pain and sense of loss are profound.
they allow me to appreciate what I have for what it is and see the riches in my current life for what they are – and that no amount of the money I used to have could have purchased them.
On paper I don’t have much anymore. No well paid job, no new car, no new technological toys.
But instead I have everything.
This evening I went to some friends’ house for a meal.
They’re always good company. It was great to see them and their chirpy children – and as as the evening progressed I told them about my day, my progress recently, my love for what I do with my time now, the joy that my journey (and writing about it) brings and my plans for the future.
They’ve never heard my plans before.
It’s not because I’ve secretive.
It’s because I never thought I had a future before. I thought I’d die. I thought I’d have killed myself by now.
I didn’t though. By some miracle 585 days ago I chose to live.
Peekyness be damned. I’m not wasting a moment any more.