HYC: Week 12 - Struggling

I'm in a rough place, peeps.  I did not work out once last week because of my back.  I comfort-ate like crap.  I've gained weight, but I knew that before I stepped on the scale - I can feel it in how tight and uncomfortable the waist of my jeans is when I sit down.  I spent Saturday morning with my massage therapist and my chiropractor; taking Taryl's suggestion, I asked about monthly maintenance appointments.  They both said that I don't need to come in that often and that every 6-8 weeks should be sufficient (especially if I add in the yoga DVD Dr. C's been suggesting for YEARS).  I actually felt optimistic about my back and managing pain for the first time in, well, ever.

I felt good enough that I contemplated throwing the DVD in on Saturday, but Dr. C generally cautions me to take it easy for 24 hours after an adjustment, so I resisted the urge.  Last night, I was reading the back cover of said DVD and felt intimidated by it: even though Dr. C assured me that I - the not-even-close-to-an-"athlete" - could do it, I was highly skeptical and worried about hurting myself, so I grabbed the beginner's DVD instead (I have half a dozen Rodney Yee yoga DVDs that I've never used...  *shame face*).  I started with the poses section, figuring that it would be best to make sure I'm actually doin' it right.

I've tried a beginner's yoga DVD before (different one) and was very disappointed with it: it expected the "beginner" to know all the poses already - there was very little instruction on what to do, why, or how.  I inevitably ended up frustrated because I didn't "get" it, and quit.  This time, I promised myself I'd keep an open mind (I *really* want to LIKE yoga) and not beat myself up if I wasn't "perfect" out of the gate, and that I'd stop if my back started to hurt.  I had to stop 20 minutes in.

I was mostly okay with my "performance" (*snort*) right afterward; it wasn't until I had a conversation with two well-meaning friends on facebook (and they DID mean well!  I knew that last night, and I still know that now!  It was 100% my issues that caused my meltdown) that I started my usual beating myself up.  "Of course you did it WRONG!  What makes you think YOU'D be able to do this, you big, fat, lazy, slob of a failure?  You can't go to a class to learn proper techniques first: you don't know what you're doing and you're disgusting - you'll make a fool of yourself!"

It turned into a conversation with Chebbar in which I talked about how awful it was to realize that YOU'RE the reason you hate your body and yourself: *I* did this to myself.  *I* got me here.  It's hard to reconcile hating yourself and realizing that you're the cause.  He asked me point-blank what if this is it?  What if this body is the body I'll have for the rest of my life?  What if it never changes?  Is that so bad?

Last night, I'm ashamed to admit that I said yes, it IS bad - it's awful.  This morning, I looked myself in the eye (via the mirror) and told myself much differently: this is the body I have right this very minute, so this is the body I'm going to appreciate (if I can't bring myself to love it) for everything it DOES do for me and everything it allows me to do.  No one loves me less because of how I look or what shape I am: I won't allow myself to indulge in such ridiculous self-pity.

(I honestly don't know what I'd do without Chebbar.  I am so blessed to have him in my life, cheering me on, holding me up, and loving me when I'm hating myself.)

It's so frustrating that meltdowns like this don't spur me on to go run a 5k after eating nothing but carrot sticks and lettuce leaves, and instead make me want to dive head-first into a bucket o'ice cream because "I'm a big, fat, pig anyhow."  However, small victory?  I didn't.  I resisted the urge to comfort-eat last night.  And I've resolved to try the yoga DVD again tomorrow (I'm doing the elliptical tonight - I know I can do THAT).

I know a very, very large part of my snotty tears has to do with the health issues and family drama going on at the moment - for some reason, after getting the bad news on Sunday, I stopped myself mid-cry.  I'd guess last night was just spill-over of pent up sadness and fear and grief and anger.  At the same time, it helped me take a good, hard look at how I see myself and where I'd like to go from here.  It's still tough, and it will likely continue to be a tough journey: it took a lot of years of self-loathing to get me here, so I can't expect to turn it around overnight.