That Feels Pretty Fucking Awesome

Over the last two months, I totally derailed myself.

The combination of the physical and mental exhaustion from moving, the pandemic and the divorce came to a head I guess.

I only really had one good cry during the whole process. It was the morning of Thanksgiving.

The process had been going on for over a year and I was still living in the same house with my ex husband and I didn’t feel like it was ever going to end.

It was also the last Thanksgiving I would spend in the house and the last Thanksgiving we would have as a family. And even though it was a fucked up family and I knew ending the marriage was the right thing to do, it was still the family I had known for the last 15 years.

I had a good cry in the bathroom that morning.

But that was it.

I think I’m still in fight or flight mode.

I don’t think I’ve totally settled.

I don’t think all the feelings I stuffed down for the last year-and-a-half have quite risen to the top yet.

I thought when I moved it would all come out.

I’d have the meltdowns of all meltdowns.

That hasn’t happened yet.

It hasn’t happened yet because I’ve been on a numbing bender for the last 6 weeks.

Not a booze bender.

A food bender.

And I’ve let many of my good habits fall by the wayside.

Exercise has dropped way down.

In December I ran 120.95 miles.

In January I ran 95.07 miles.

In February I ran 34.79 miles.

In March I ran 52.43 miles.

So far in April I’ve run 30.13 miles.

I ran more last December than I did in February, March and April of this year.

I started falling asleep on the couch while watching TV again. And waking up at like 2 or 3 a.m. and walking upstairs and taking forever to fall back asleep. Again.

I stopped getting up early and was sleeping until 6 or 7 or even 8:00 sometimes (on days when the kids weren’t here) which is SUPER LATE for me.

I wasn’t making my bed or putting my clothes away.

I was struggling with the new sense of freedom.

Without that constant walking on eggs feeling.

Without tension.

Without awkwardness and anger and frustration and exasperation.

I couldn’t handle it.

Actually that’s not true. I could handle it, but I chose to handle it by just, well…

not handling it.

I was like the daughter in Footloose.

(The original Footloose. Not the lame remake.)

I rebelled.

I did a lot of the things I had worked so hard to change.

But I’ve been thinking about it a lot.

A lot of those changes hadn’t been made because I truly wanted to change them.

I made them because I thought they might change our relationship.

There are only a couple changes that hung on for the duration.

One of them is I haven’t had any booze.

One of the biggest reasons I quit drinking was because I thought maybe that was contributing to the problems in my marriage.

Maybe I’d respond/react to words and situations differently if I wasn’t catching a buzz.

Maybe that was a big part of the problem.

It wasn’t.

Nonetheless, I haven’t caved on that one.

I haven’t had a drink since July 201, and I’m still holding strong almost four years later.

I got to the point this past weekend where I did a little soul searching and reflecting and realized it was time to get my shit together.

I talked to my integrator/project manager/work wife/friend, (who I first met few years ago when she joined Not Your Average Fitness Course — newly renamed the Empowerment Experience) on Monday morning during our weekly Monday Zoom call, and she was like, You need to do what you tell us to do. GO BACK TO THE BASICS.

She was totally right.

And so I did.

I haven’t fallen asleep on the couch in two days.

That may not seem like much to most people, but to me that’s really really good.

I’ve been up by 4:00 a.m. every morning this week.

Three mornings in a row! I’m very happy with that.

My kitchen has been close to spotless for the last three nights.

I’ve started making my bed and putting away all my clothes and making sure my room feels as oasis-y as I can make it feel on a budget of about ten dollars.

I just need to find something to go on the wall above the bed and put some fresh flowers on the nightstand and I’ll be good to go.

I started meditating (free guided meditations on YouTube). After meditating three mornings in a row, what I realize is that I have very little control over my mind. I am all over the fucking place in approximately 1.37 seconds. Meditating is tiring because I’m constantly redirecting myself to the present. CONSTANTLY.

But I’m enjoying the process of developing a much more clear understanding of the way I allow my mind to behave.

I still let my brain get away with all sorts of stupid shit.

But now I’m becoming much more conscious of when it’s happening. That’s pretty awesome.

I’ve exercised three mornings in a row before 7:30 a.m. and I’ve been showered and dressed by 9 a.m.

I’m not gonna lie. Being showered and dressed by 9 am is pretty much a fucking miracle.

I’m pretty proud of that one.

So the point of this little blog post is that I’ve made a lot of changes in the last few days.

Can I maintain them?

I know I can.

But will I?

Well that’s the million dollar question.

I’m gonna do my best, that’s for sure.

Because having some structure and discipline back in my life is hard in the moment.

Lots harder than sitting on the couch and watching TV until I fall asleep at night or leisurely getting my ass out of bed in the morning.

But it feels pretty good the next day.

And making these changes now purely for me, because I simply want to do this for myself?

Well that feels really fucking awesome.