The Joys of a Learning Curve
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
Every day I get to wake up it's a good thing! It is especially more awesome now that I have a wonderful partner who makes it his job that I know I am well appreciated and told frequently each day that I am loved. I didn't realize how much I missed (and deserved) those moments after my husband died 8 1/2 years ago. I guess I had allowed myself to turn off all those emotions and needs when I believed I would never have the opportunity to experience them again.
It is going to sound like a really strange analogy, but (for me) it has been very much like my continuing journey through this plateau on which I seem to have landed. After a while, I lost sight of what I had accomplished, began to shut off any acknowledgement of the 210 lb. weight loss and began to focus only on the struggle and frustration of the scale not moving in the direction I wanted it to go. I turned off the things I for which I should have been proud (the amount lost, my new clothes size, the way my body felt, and the new strength and mobility I had gained in the process). I shut down all the positives and became blinded by the focus of what I cannot seem to accomplish. Not surprisingly, these negative emotions led me back to some old behaviors and patterns of thinking I thought I had long abandoned. Funny how those things can lurk just under the surface and launch themselves when we least expect it...
Last night, I found myself berating myself for my inability to master this seemingly insidious weight loss blockage. The kicker occurred when I tried on a pair of pants that had previously been loose. Needless to say, loose is not their present descriptor. It was the straw that broke my proverbial camel's back. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It did, however, leave me in a puddle on the floor of our bedroom for a brief period of time.
My boyfriend, wondering to whence I had disappeared, came into the bedroom and found me on the floor looking like a train wreck. He gently helped me off the floor and pulled me into a warm hug. He didn't speak initially; he just held me until he felt me relax. He asked if I was fighting with the scale again, to which I nodded yes. He took my hand and walked me out to the living room and then sat me down next to him on the couch. It was there that he began to voice his concern.
He told me he wished I would be kinder to myself and remember that I have been ill for 6 months, virtually unable to exercise regularly, and that I had been on so many medications that my body was confused about what to do with all the crap that was running around inside it. I had to acknowledge that I had not taken those things into account as I berated myself relentlessly for my iniquities. I realized that every word he spoke would be something I would to say to someone else in the same circumstances. It was the perspective I needed.
With those simple words and that stunning realization, I knew I would never treat someone else the way I was treating myself. Blinded by my lack of self-perspective, I had shut out all the positive things I have accomplished and was not treating myself the way I needed and deserved. If I am to get through this rough patch, I have to treat myself with the same kindness and perspective that I would any Spark Friend (or anyone else, for that matter) in a crisis. Today starts that challenge for me.