I am back, from Thanksgiving, of course. And, eh, it was nothing exciting. That's not necessarily a function of how the holiday was. Rather, it is how I personally feel.
I am sliding into a downward spiral.
It's not anything really, really awful. I am still doing what I am supposed to be doing. I am still eating right, exercising, making good choices and performing portion control. I am just tired and bored. I am riding a lower wave. It happens.
It is a lot of things and there are a million reasons. One very large one is seasonal affective disorder. It is something I contend with every year and this year is no exception. The absolute darkest part of the year is about 3 weeks away and I really, really feel it. I had skipped taking St. John's Wort for a few days for Thanksgiving and I am paying for it. I'm back on it but it's disturbing to know that my mood is so profoundly affected by just skipping the herb for maybe five days instead of the usual two for the weekend.
Another reason is Thanksgiving itself. It is, unlike any other holiday, completely centerpieced around food. And I could neither make nor bring anything, which by itself bothered me. And then of course it is, well, it's not deprivation, but it is separateness. I don't enjoy separateness, oh no, she can't have THAT. And that's not true and it's not fair. It's that I am making choices, not that I am hurting or depriving myself. And then there's other weirdnesses. Being offered leftovers even though I'd made it clear that I wouldn't be eating them. And then being offered them again. And a third time. Oy.
I expected to be shooed out of the kitchen, but I did not expect how it would make me feel. I really disliked that. I am getting used to having control over my foods or at least some say in the matter, and have gotten to like that. Even though I knew what was being cooked, I could not witness or be a part of anything going on, except when I was finally called in, in order to peel potatoes. Then later I pulled out what I was going to eat and that was that. That was the extent of my participation in the entire preparation and presentation of the meal.
I realize that I should be thankful for family and hospitality, etc., but like I said I am simply tired and in a foul mood. Of course I expressed gratitude while there and did my best to not cop an attitude. It was also a raging TOM (which is over now) and that was not helping things one whit.
Another reason is, and this is ludicrous, but there you have it, something that happened online this morning. I run a forums website when I am not sparking, and there is a topic about food diarying. I do it as do about ten or so other people. One is a serious weight loser (she's already lost 100+ lbs. and maintained it for a good year and is now trying to take off the last 50 or so) and another is a marathoner. Plus others are in various states of vegetarianism or whatever. It is generally a supportive group and no one goes off on anyone's choices. No one screams, "What the hell are you thinking, eating 17 chocolate chip cookies?"
Except for this one person.
This person has decided that I am killing myself by dieting.
This person has been told, more than once, that I am under a doctor's care and am doing this with not only my doctor's permission and blessing, but at her urgent insistence.
This person has been told that I am on alli and so my weight loss is more rapid than most people's.
This person has been told to butt out repeatedly.
It does not seem to matter.
Today or last night, this person again railed about how my friend and I are doing just so many horrible things to ourselves, and said that we were subsisting on gruel.
I guess pizza, chicken, pasta, bread, salads, soup and guacamole are all gruel. Amazing. I had no idea the definition had changed so dramatically.
I suppose I should not have gone off the way I did, but I am tired of this. This person seems to go hypercritical about once per quarter. Hence I could've let it go and let it happen again in 3 months or so. After all, going off or not going off does not seem to make one whit of difference.
But I did, and I hate doing that, but I felt I had to.
So I am weary from that as well, from justifying my choices and defending what I (and my friend) do.
And, to add to the fun, I walked like crazy last week, watched the portions and was austere as hell during Thanksgiving and I still gained 1.8 lbs. What kills me is that I actually lost inches, in almost all of the places where I measure. Right now that's kinda sustaining me. That and a friend on Facebook sending me all sorts of silly stuff. Nothing earth-shaking, just paying some attention.
A downward spiral.
I don't think it's a particularly steep spiral.
And I know I'll start to feel better once the solstice is done and the light begins to return. And this person will not bother me for months. And Thanksgiving isn't for another year. And, really, it's a test of this whole experience. I can do this when I'm happy. Can I sustain it even when I'm not? There's the question.
But right now I'm just tired, and all I want to do is withdraw.
When you see me on the subway, I'll be down at the end of the car.