It’s A "Wrong Side of the Bed" Day

Sometimes I just wake up on the wrong side of the bed.  Today is one of those days.  I’m grumpy and I don’t know why so I’m going to chalk it up to, “just one of those days”, and deal.

Quite a departure from what I used to do when I had one of these days.  Rather than dealing or trying to snap myself out of the grumpies, I would actually cultivate the mood.  If you cultivate a mood like this then you can create all manner of negativity which begets bad stuff and you’re left with a bad day.

Which is the perfect excuse, especially on a Friday, to get shit faced.

But, of course, that is NOT what will happen to me today.  Rather, I will whine for a while on this blog (feel free to sign off now if you’d like – I hate whining but sometimes its a necessary evil.), which will help me to process how I’m feeling.  Then I’ll feel silly and all “first world problems” and I’ll realize how blessed I am and I’ll fix my attitude and move on…cased closed.

Let the whining begin…

I have to go to NY next week.  It’s an unexpected trip.  I have nothing against NY – it’s a helluva town – but if you read my post from yesterday you know that these things not only drain me, they are hard for me to do.  It’s a new venue, with people I have never met.  Therefore I will stress about it until I get there and everything turns out fine.  Then I will relax and enjoy myself…except…

Except that it’s totally throwing off my Jenny Craig thing.  I know that Jenny makes food that I could take with me but not only does my room not have a microwave, who in the hell goes to NY and eats Jenny Cuisine?  Not this girl.  I won’t over indulge but I will take advantage of some delicious, healthy meals.  Then I’ll stress over whether or not I’ve gained any weight.  At least the hotel has a gym that I can use.

I hate my closet right now.  I’m between sizes and we’re between seasons so nothing fits and I’m either too hot or too cold all of the time.  On the bright side, it’s NY, I can wear black 24/7 and no one will even bat an eye.  So that is exactly what I’m going to do.

I’m also stressing about the fact that I should be going to see things I haven’t seen yet while I’m there (9/11 Memorial, Statue of Liberty, Stuart Weitzman’s Shop on Madison) but the reality is that I know I’ll be exhausted by the end of the day and just want to go back to my room.  This makes me feel old and worn out and not young and adventurous. 

Here’s a newsflash Sherry…you were never young and adventurous…read your blog from yesterday.


The men of the house will be out tonight (including the hubs) at various activities which leaves me alone.  Why doesn’t this make me happy?  I like to be alone now.  Yes…but…only when I say.  (I said I’d be whining…not rational.)

The humidity is back.  Nuff said.

Now…on the bright side.

I’m staying at a beautiful, historic hotel in NY.  I love crap like that.  I will have a wonderful time AND I can get some serious workout time in.

I love wearing black and I have a closet full of it.

The Stuart Weitzman store is only a few blocks from my hotel…I’m thinking I can find the energy for that on at least one afternoon or evening.

I’m going to watch all my recorded TV shows that I don’t get to see while everyone is out tonight.  There is also a very long yoga session just waiting for me to get home this evening.

See?  All better now!


“If you don’t like something; change it, change the way you think about it.”
~Mary Engelbreit

Who ARE You?

I’m starting to think I’m more of an introvert than I ever could have imagined.  That is a huge surprise to me…just part of the “finding out who I am” thing that is recovery, I guess.  I found the following fascinating and illuminating.

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.
This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.
Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.
On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.
Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.
Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird.
Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds.
Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.
Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down. Their brains are too sensitive to the neurotransmitter called Dopamine. Introverts and Extroverts have different dominant neuro-pathways. Just look it up.

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts.
Introverts cannot “fix themselves” and deserve respect for their natural temperament and contributions to the human race. In fact, one study (Silverman, 1986) showed that the percentage of Introverts increases with IQ.

Um…yeah…this pretty much hits the nail on the head for me.  How in the world did I miss that all these years?

Well maybe because you were mistaking insecurities for shyness.  Maybe because you thought you got your energy from other people when really you just never learned to like yourself so you loathed being alone with your own thoughts.  Maybe because alcohol and a crappy upbringing stunted your emotional growth and you never had an opportunity to figure out who you really were?

Here’s a fact…I’m starting to like being alone.  I like cocooning with my family and just…being.  In fact, and here’s where it gets weird for me, I need to be alone in order to recharge and get going again.  If I’m out and around too many people for too long (which is what happened this summer) I get physically tired.  Not “bored” tired but “worn out time to take a nap and I don’t nap” tired. 

Which reminds me – I used to find it necessary to go over my day with the hubs in minute detail so that I could verbally vomit and be done with my day.  Now…not so much.  When I first get home I would much rather just be quiet for a little while and just soak up being there.  After a while something will pop into my head that I want to share and I’ll get a conversation going but until then?  Quiet works.

Which also reminds me – I used to find it necessary to run off at the mouth every moment the hubs and I were alone together.  I needed to process.  He needed to listen.  I felt that unless he was proving to me every damn second that he loved me by either 1) saying so or 2) listening to me or 3) understanding my innermost thoughts before I even said them; then our relationship was doomed.

Now I find it infinitely pleasing to just be in his presence.  I like to hold hands in the car and be quiet or sing along to the radio.  I like to just sit with his arms around me and listen to him breathe.  Again…I like to just…be.  Maybe those old people in restaurants weren’t bored with each other…maybe they hadn’t said all they needed to say over the last 30 years…maybe they were content just to be together.

And right about now, all the people who know me in real life and read this blog are saying, “Who has hacked Sherry’s blog and what have they done with her?!”

It’s me guys…just a sober, quieter, more introverted me.  And happy…did I mention happy?


Right Where I Need To Be

Sometimes I get jealous.  Or maybe it’s envious.  I’m never sure of the difference between the two.  Either way, it’s not an attractive emotion and I don’t like the way it feels.  I’m so freaking blessed that I have a very hard time when that feeling comes over me.

But come over me it does from time to time – and instead of drinking it away, I now have to deal with it.

Right now I’m feeling a little envious of some of my colleagues and friends and where they are in their career vs. where I am.  Like I said…not exactly attractive.  It’s just that before my lay off I was in a senior role with a fancy title that I was more proud of than I actually thought.  Now?  Not so much.

Then I stop and think (I know…it’s new for me too) and I realize that I am right where I need to be.  Then, being the over analytical person that I am, I do a little analyzing.

  • Point #1 – I sought out this role when it became available, not necessarily because of the actual job but because of the company and the people.  They are amazing.

  • Point #2 – I am happier now when I get up and go to work than I have been in many, many, many years.  (Of course…waking up without a hangover really helps.)

  • Point #3 – Most of those other friends and colleagues that I referenced, have feelings about their jobs/careers that range from “It’s okay”, to “I dread going to work”, to “I want to throw up every morning before I go to work”.

  • Point #4 – I earn a decent salary with great benefits for doing this job and really, there isn’t enough money to make me do some of the jobs that those friends and colleagues do.  Okay…there really is probably enough money but I’m not pursuing it.

  • Point #5 – I’m still not really sure what I want to be when I grow up.  This position gives me the opportunity to have an impact on a team and, at the same time, have some flexibility to explore other things.  Things like writing, or going back to school (they have tuition reimbursement), or counseling or…whatever.

Wow!  When I look at it like that, I am definitely right where I need to be.  I should probably just shut up and get back to work.


Time to Change My Attitude with a Little Gratitude

Before I even start my day, I need to take some time for gratitude.  I haven’t done one of these in a while and I can’t think of a better time than now.

Today I am grateful for…

  • A son who is on the mend, who will grow and learn from this experience, and who loves me unconditionally.  I’m also grateful that he knows no other way to love.
  • A blogging community filled with tender souls who know just what to say to pull me out of the pit, to call me on my bullshit, to put salve on my wounds and to kick my ass when required.  You all rock and I’m not sure what my recovery would look like without you…and I don’t want to know.
  • Friends who “get” me and know just what to say and do (or not say and not do) to make me feel better.  And who also know how much I love fresh flowers.
  • Friends from far and wide on Facebook who took the time to inquire about B and see if there was anything I needed.  It truly humbles me.
  • A husband who puts up with my shit and knows just when to put his arms around me and when to give me a much needed kiss.  He also knows what to say when I don’t even know what I need to hear.  (That last sentence made sense in my head.)  And, he knows when to back off when I just want to be left alone.  Elmo rocks.
  • A local hospital that everyone around here says is awful but turned out to be wonderful.  Everyone with whom we came in contact was caring and gentle and kind.  They also knew their shit.  Well…except for the cafeteria – the food sucked.
  • Fall weather.
  • Portable Jenny food that kept me on track even through a crisis.  I even lost a pound this week.
  • An understanding group of co-workers who covered for me and had my back when I needed it.  They rock.
  • My new Nars Blush in the a shade called – and I am not even kidding – Orgasm.  I waited a long time to order that blush because it’s expensive and if I had waited any longer I still wouldn’t have it because of this hospital bill.  But I DID order it and I love it – God even takes care of you for the little things. 
  • God – who loves me no matter what and to whom I turn no matter what.  It doesn’t matter how I grew up because at the end of the day, I am the child of a King….and that rocks more than anything.


“God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today.  Have you used one to say “thank you?”‘ 
~William A. Ward


#1 twin (B) is back at school today.  Breathing treatments and antibiotics and chest pounding will continue for another ten days or so, but other than that…things are back to normal.


We’re still dealing with the toll that stress takes on your body and psyche after a crisis has been resolved.  While most of my family is just happy everyone is home, B and I are struggling, just a little, to get our mojo back.  The hubs is, as usual, the rock around this place.  His easy, laid back personality allows him to live in the moment and while he is not immune to the stress this situation has caused, he won’t be weighed down by it now that it’s passed.  I envy that.

The oldest at home and #2 twin are also “live in the moment” kind of people.  They both care and were impacted, but they’re just happy everyone is back home now. 

B, on the other hand, has had a couple of meltdowns since coming home.  He has revealed how scared he was before we got him to the hospital.  He actually thought he was going to die.  The night before we went to the doctor and then to the ER, he said the rosary because he was so frightened.  He said he told his dad on Wednesday that he wanted to go back to the doctor but that the hubs asked him to give the medicine a chance to work.  His interpretation of that was that the hubs didn’t want to take him because we are uninsured right now (new job insurance doesn’t kick in until 10/1).

I wondered why he kept texting and asking me when I’d be home AND kept saying things like, “I just wish I could go to Urgent Care or the ER and they could suck all this out of me.”  I interpreted that as, “I want this to be over,” instead of “I think I’m dying and I’m really scared.”  If I had heard the latter I would have scooped him up (okay…helped him to the car) immediately and taken him to the doctor which would have given us a 24 hour jump start on getting him well.

So now he’s processing all of that.  I explained to him that he’s grown and needs to let us know when something like that is happening…whether it be an illness, trouble with school, drinking, financial or whatever.  That unless he speaks up, we can’t know and we can’t help.  I also explained that feeling a sense of let down and depression is very common after a hospital stay and that it should go away within a couple of days.

I wish I could take my own advice.

I feel like I’ve been pulled through a knot hole.  I’m feeling terrible about not listening to my intuition that told me to leave work on Wednesday and get him to a doctor.  I’m completely wrung out emotionally from worry about whether or not he was going to be okay.  I’m still not caught up on the sleep I lost both at home prior to him being in the hospital and then at the hospital, since I stayed with him the whole time (I only left to go home and shower…don’t judge).  To say I’m a little wobbly today would likely be an understatement.

I am in unfamiliar territory here people.

Allow me to clarify.  I am no stranger to stress and drama.  A very large part of my life has been spent in hospitals and dealing with medical goings on.  Stress and I have been dance partners since I was a little kid so we are well acquainted.  It’s how to deal with it in recovery that is unfamiliar to me.

Up until 2 1/2 years ago, I dealt with stress and drama in one of two ways.  First I stuffed it down – which resulted in my hair falling (alopecia aeota) and later clinical depression.  When it was clear that this way was killing me, I began to process through the stress by talking to my shrink…the hubs.  Now, in order to get peace and quiet while I processed, we had to leave the house.  And where did we go when we left the house?  Why to a bar of course!  So while that worked as well, it also fed my monster for many years.

Now?  Hmmmm…. I’m not sure.  I tried to talk to the hubs about the way I was feeling but I don’t think I was getting through.  This may or may not have been because I was still a little angry about the way he dismissed my intuition which may or may not have created a little defensiveness in him.  I want an apology damnit…and so does B.

Then again…I also may or may not have been looking for somewhere to place the blame because I felt like shit about myself and the hubs wasn’t having any of it. 

I started really thinking about it today and I realized that this is the first time since I’ve been sober that we’ve had a real crisis.  It came fast and furious and left me totally unprepared for its aftermath.  I handled the situation just fine (I always do…I’m the one you want in a crisis), but now? 

Wobbly, weepy and worried.

And I don’t even know if that’s normal.  I just know it’s how I’m feeling right now.  And I know I’m sober and I got through this crisis without even a nod to alcohol and for that I am proud.


Not Getting Any Rest…

…cause we’re in the hospital. We’ve been here since early yesterday.

My poor boy has a pretty severe case of pneumonia.

I should have paid closer attention to my instincts. But we’re here now so if you want to send up a prayer or two for a speedy recovery I would be very grateful.

I’ll update when I’m able.


A Step Five Admission

My blogger friend Dawn over at all that heaven will allow, has been blogging about the Twelve Steps of AA of late.  The other day she wrote about Step Five which is arguably one of the most difficult steps to complete because it requires honesty and admission to God, ourselves and another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. 

Did you catch that?  The exact nature of my wrongs.  That would be all the ugly, fuckedupedness that was my drinking life.  Everything.  Way down deep.  Those things I promised myself I would not only never think about again, but that I would take to my grave.  Why?  Because we’re only as sick as our secrets so in order to get well, we can’t have any secrets.

Now for me this really was never much of a problem because I’m kind of an open book.  I will tell anybody just about anything to the point they are backing away saying, “TMI Sherry…TMI!”  And even the ugliest of crap I managed to squeak out, if only once.  Long enough to release it to the Universe.  The problem I have with Step Five is that I never seem to be done.  Everytime I think I’ve admitted all of my crap, I think of something else that sends me back into my hometown of Shameville, USA…population…me.

This time it’s a sick kid.

My boy is crazy sick right now.  He hasn’t been this sick since he was very little and to say I’m a little bit worried is an understatement.  Not, rush him to the ER worried but, work from home tomorrow worried.  Until he turns the corner, I need to be where I can lay eyes and hands on him. 

Sorry honey, you’re a wonderful father but sometimes a mommy needs to do what a mommy needs to do.

But sitting here thinking about him today got me thinking about some of those other times my kids were sick and it interrupted happy hour.


I can remember (all the way back to my daughter) getting ready for date night and having a child start throwing up.  Or looking forward to a night out all week, only to have one of them spike a fever.  Or…whatever…doesn’t really matter.  If it interrupted the magical drinking time, I was devastated.

Now, most every mother would be a little bit dissappointed to have to cancel plans because of a sick child, but my level of dissappointment was epic.  I wish I could say it was solely because I was looking forward to a night out with the hubs (which I was) but, more often than not, it was because that was the only time I would get to drink.  Back when they were little, I never drank at home so I really, really looked forward to a night out.

Later, when they got older and my drinking had escalated to the stay at home variety, a sick child meant that I had to “keep my wits about me” as the hubs would say.  That meant I had to limit my intake.  For me that meant no drinking because even in the early days I knew that one drink meant a bottle or three.  So I would stay sober and resent the hell out of it all night. 

Oh my…that is so hard for me to admit.  That even though I never put my kids in harm’s way, I knew enough to stay sober in case I had to drive them to the hospital or something, and I never left them with my mother or a sitter when they were ill, I still resented them for getting sick and interrupting my drinking time.  Yep…that’s right folks…I resented a child for getting sick because it meant that I wouldn’t be able to drink.

Damn that was hard to type.

I hope you guys count as “another human being” because I sure as hell don’t want to have to type or speak that again.  I’m getting the fuck off this train at the next stop…Forgiveyourself Beach, population…me; last stop before Recovery City.


He’s Sick…I’m Tired

One of my kids is sick.  Not just a cold sick but hacking up a lung sick.  I thought he had the flu because he’s been running a fever but it turns out he has bronchitis.  No less debilitating but not contagious thank God.  Plus, now we all have time to get our flu shots and hopefully avoid the flu all together.  When I thought he had the flu, I was afraid we’d missed our window of opportunity.  Guess we dodged that bullet.

All in all my kids have been fairly healthy in their lives.  My daughter fought bad tonsils (which still need to come out hint hint HINT) and so every spring and most falls she got strep.  My niece and nephew got ear infections a lot and when the nephew got them he’d spike a 104 degree temperature in a New York second.  Scary stuff.

My first born had really bad tonsils that gave him tonsillitis a bunch of times but seldom strep.  Then his younger brother (my youngest twin) became a carrier and proceeded to infect the entire family until we finally found a doctor who was able to knock it out without cutting him.  He still has his tonsils and we haven’t had a case of strep in the house for almost ten years.

The middle born (oldest twin) is the one who has bronchitis now.  He got a stomach bug so bad one time he became dehydrated and we ended up in the emergency room.  That was one of those “mommy” times when I told the doctor he didn’t know his ass from third base and did what I thought was best.  He kept telling me to do this and do that and call him back (it was Superbowl Sunday).  Finally I said “Screw that fool!” and off we went to the ER.  By the look on the faces of the nursing staff and the speed at which they took him back, I made the right decision.

Now I have a 17 year old man who I’m treating like a five year old.  I can’t help it and, to be honest, I don’t think he minds.  I was even contemplating crawling into the bed with him last night because his fever was so high, his cough was really bad and I didn’t like the way it sounded.  Fortunately the NyQuil knocked his ass out and he was able to sleep.

Glad someone got some sleep.  I must have gotten up four times to check on his fever and his breathing. 

Some things just do not change.

I’m sure I’m violating some kind of boundary when I hover and nurture like this.  I mean really, if the neighbors knew I was thinking about sleeping with my 17 year old they’d likely call CPS and have me arrested.  It’s just that I can’t NOT take care of my kids and I have no idea what proper nurturing of someone this age really is!

My mother was not exactly a warm and fuzzy kind of woman (although she would have you believe she was) and nurturing was not her strong suit.  Me being sick got in the way of her being able to do what she wanted to do.  Plus, if I was ill then my mother and sister would have to be MORE ill and I’d end up taking care of them!  Because of this I seldom told anyone I wasn’t feeling well.  It was better to just suffer in silence and maybe get some rest.

I may go a little overboard when my kids are sick.  We have always been fortunate enough to have good health insurance so going to the doctor was never a problem.  Since I worked from home most of their lives I could always be there if they had to stay home.  I snuggled, treated, administered and generally nursed them back to health.  I filled eyedroppers with pink liquid and held noses until they swallowed.  I put thermometers in places I never thought I would to get an accurate temperature reading.  I handed out Popsicles for fevers and taught them how to swallow Advil (the miracle drug in my house).  I slept sitting up so that I could hold them close to my chest to monitor a fever.  I sat in steamy bathrooms and ruined perfectly good hair to combat croup.

Fact is, they’re getting older and don’t need this level of care anymore for pretty much anything.  So if I find that one tiny, little time that they actually do need me then by God I’m going to jump on it and do my job.  And if that leaves me a little tired in the morning that’s okay.

I’m used to it.


Anonymity and Me

I was just emailing with another blogger (I love when we connect “off the page”) about the anonymous-ness of our blogs and just how much each of us is comfortable putting out here in cyberspace.

As I look around, I see various forms of anonymity in the blogosphere.  Some of the blogs I read are totally out there like Pintester.  I love her blog.  She takes all those seemingly easy DIY things on Pinterest and tests them.  Not only that, but she’s a hoot!  Check her out if you’re looking for a laugh…unless you’re offended by strong language…in that case, you might want to skip this particular blog.

Among the recovery blogs I read, most are anonymous in one way or another.  Some are comfortable with talking about the region in which they live while others don’t mention it at all.  Some post a picture or two and some blogs are all pictures.  Others, like me, prefer to keep our faces and pictures out of cyberspace.

And some blogs are completely private and need an invitation to read.  I read one blog that used to be public but when her boss became aware of the blog, she was asked to go private to protect her job.  Ummm…I’m not really sure if that’s Constitutional but I have to say if someone said that to me, I’d likely shut this sucker down in record time.  Fortunately that particular blogger friend invited me and I get to read her irreverent and totally hilarious blog on a regular basis.  But if she hadn’t invited me I would have completely understood and respected her privacy.  Even though I would have really missed her.

As for me…I don’t want to ever have to go private because I love that strangers may actually read what I write.  I love that someone might be helped or comforted by my writings.  I love that I might make someone smile and that might be the only smile they have that day (recovery can be a bitch sometimes).  But I am very selective to whom I give my link.  When I let someone know that I blog, I’m always certain that it’s someone with whom I’d be comfortable if they read it.  Only a few very close friends and family members have the link and are free to read whatever I write. 

There’s a reason for that.

I’ve found that I tend to censor myself depending upon my audience.  Hell, for awhile I censored myself based on which other bloggers I thought were reading!  I have a deep need not to hurt any one’s feeling or offend anyone…especially anyone that I have to look in the eye or hug or converse with on a regular basis. 

But that’s counterproductive to what I wanted (needed) this blog to be in the first place.  Somewhere I could do a brain dump and sort through all my issues with recovery and all of the other crap that goes on in my head.  I never could journal so this is my form of journaling.  I decided that anyone who doesn’t want to read my blog doesn’t have to read it.  It’s none of my business what they think about what I write unless they choose to share it in a comment. 

And honestly, this blog has gotten me farther in my recovery than anything else.  Farther than AA.  Farther than the “drunk books”.  Farther than my former therapist.  Farther than anything.  I have worked through more issues, dilemmas, dramas and heartache here than anywhere else.  I have also smiled, laughed out loud, celebrated and bragged.   It’s become a safe haven.  One that I won’t likely give up anytime soon.

So I’ve come to a place where I’m happy with the level of my anonymity.  I love that some of my friends and family read this blog because it’s a way of communicating with them when I can’t seem to find the words.  I love the blogging friends I’ve made and that new readers pop up sometimes.  But mostly, I love just sitting down to write and processing through stuff and feeling better after I’m finished.  And if anyone finds me offensive or I hurt some one’s feeling from time to time then I apologize.

I’ll apologize but I will not censor.


“Publicity in women is detestable. Anonymity runs in their blood. The desire to be veiled still possesses them. They are not even now as concerned about the health of their fame as men are, and, speaking generally, will pass a tombstone or a signpost without feeling an irresistible desire to cut their names on it.”
~Virginia Woolf

Sunday’s With Jenny

Ahem…drum roll please….

3.6 pounds!

Finally!  A real week of real weight loss!  I am right on track with where I wanted to be after four weeks on the program.  I am down almost nine pounds.  Just a kiss over two pounds per week.  Slow, healthy, right on track.

I was prepared to give it up and stop wasting my money.  I had decided that if, after six weeks (because you have to give any new fitness plan/healthy eating plan at least six weeks) I was still losing only one pound per week, that I was going to give up on Jenny.

The primary catalyst for this is that I am not very comfortable ingesting all of these chemicals and sodium.  Prepackaged food of any kind is chock full of this crap no matter how you slice it.  However, I knew I needed someone else to be in control for at least a little while because I have this little problem with moderation.  I also knew I needed to go on “auto-pilot” in order to stop obsessing about food the way I used to obsess about wine. 

You know how it goes…”What do I eat when?”  “What’s a real portion size?”  “How many calories in THAT?”  “How much cardio do I need to burn that?”  Ugh!  That’s the obsessive thinking that put food first and foremost in my head and, no matter what, I knew for a fact that it had to stop.

The plan was, and still is, to get this weight off by any means necessary because that’s going to do more good for my health than the chemicals and sodium will do bad in the short term.  That’s the plan anyway.  For now I’m still giving it six weeks and then we’ll reevaluate.

But today…I’m very, very happy.

My counselor was surprised and a little suspicious (she reminds me of a drug and alcohol counselor because they too have a bullshit meter that is very sensitive).  She asked me if I did anything differently this week to which I replied no.  Which was the truth…kinda sorta.

Something did change last week but it’s not really easy to explain.  Last week I didn’t have food on my mind except at mealtimes (which I’ve heard is how normal people behave).  I also ate only the Jenny food.  I didn’t supplement or add anything extra with the exception of a banana or apple here and there.  The program did exactly what I wanted it to do – it made eating boring (for the most part) and so it stopped being an “event”.  I also stopped “planning” every meal and just grabbed what I felt like eating in the moment.  That also took the focus away from food and placed it on sustenance.

On that front…mission accomplished.  We’ll see how I feel about all of this in the coming week.  I’m taking this sucker not one day at a time but one week at a time (because I only weigh myself at my Jenny appointments – my scale and I are not only separated, the divorce is final).

Now, to my wonderful and supportive friends and colleagues who read this blog and know me in real life. Put this out of your mind and relax.  Win or lose – I got this.