Diabesity-Kicking the Addiction to Sugar

I went to the doctor for a check-up. When I was a kid, my mother was a diabetic clinician--she helped people learn to care for their diabetes, and especially their feet.

So I know a thing or two about diabetes. I know that symptoms in women include yeast infection and bacterial overgrowths. . . In short, kitty issues. Itchiness, extra lube when it's not called for, suddenly smelling different (although not always bad, just different).

I knew that excessive thirst and hunger (with or without unexplained weight loss), can be a sign that your body isn't processing sugar effectively.

And, of course, I knew my weight was going to push me over the edge eventually.

So as soon as the Doc said that we needed to get fasting sugar, A1C, and triglycerides (fats in the blood), I knew where we were going: Pre-diabetes.

I also know that, whatever the tests say, I'm already there.

And I've known for a long time. I dropped 10% of my body weight, and I'm still having issues as soon as my weight loss levels out. If I'm not constantly losing, I'm having trouble: I'm hungry all the time. I hurt. I get intensely thirsty out of nowhere. I "go" more than 8 times a day. My eyes are having issues, I'm noticing burst blood vessels in my legs and spider veins (blood pressure rising).

The doctors used to say I was the healthiest obese person they had ever seen. They don't say that anymore.

So, the only way out is to kick my last physical addiction: sugar.

I love sugar. I can literally eat it plain. I love crunching sugar crystals between my teeth. I love the melty kinds of sugar (but not cotton candy, for unknown reasons). I especially love sugar with a citrus flavor: Skittles, Smarties, Starburst. I love chocolate. Candy bars, brownies, fudge. I love ice cream.

So, since staring that gloomy reality in the face, I've cut out sugar. I've also had to cut out Aspartame, because it's been giving me wicked ocular migraines.

Do you know that black tea is disgusting without sugar? At least, it is the first three or four glasses. Then something strange happens, and it tastes very refreshing.  And yogurt tastes like sour cream, or cream cheese. I never knew that. Yogurt has always been a desert for me. It's terrific with a few berries crushed up in it, but it takes a minute to get used to it.

I have also eaten more beans than I know what to do with. I have gotten black rice, and have no idea how to cook it (thank you, internet,  you'll be my best friend when I figure out what I'm eating you with).

And vegetables. Vegetables everywhere.

I found out last night that my craving for dessert is generally a craving for food. If I eat a vegetarian meal, I don't really need the dessert. What my body has been telling me is that I'm not getting enough calories in the day. Part of that is "duh",  because I'm losing weight again, but part of it is a complete revelation. If I eat enough, then I don't crave the sweets so badly. Yes, I still want something sweet to "finish off" the meal, but I'm perfectly happy with 5 Concord grapes.

I had to stop snacking.

As much as I would vehemently deny it, I ate all day long. Sometimes good stuff, sometimes bad stuff, but all day long. Every two hours or even more often.  Right before a meal, right after a meal. I still have snacks, but they are planned out, and they involve healthy fat, healthy protein, and a small amount of slow-absorbing carb.

Eventually I may kick the dairy, but right now it makes me happy. I'm sticking to live-culture yogurt and aged cheese, which have less lactose. If I really want to be "bad", I get a tiny Ben and Jerry's--a mini cup, they run about a $1.00. So far it's not having a negative impact.

Silver Lining

The plus side to all of this is that I feel great. I feel like I could run across the country like Forest Gump. Yes, I still need my sleep, and sometimes I still get a little cranky, if it's been a while since I've eaten, but I'm not hungry all the time (!) and I can actually take a break from eating sometimes and focus on other things.

I have energy.

My sight is sharper.

I'm more excited.

I feel less depressed.

And, as I lose weight (rapidly, as anyone who has gone on a relatively low-carb diet can tell you), I love seeing the changes in my jaw line.

I would recommend it to anyone: it really only takes about three or four days for the cravings to mostly disappear. Everything tastes different, but good. It's an amazing way to live.

Battling Depression: The Criticism Disease

How many times have you looked in the mirror and told yourself: Ugh ?

OK, let's slow down: how many times have you done it today?

We rip on ourselves all day long. Some people, like me, do it out loud as a form of defense. I use self-deprecating humor to basically ward off people saying impolite things (I said it first, so it doesn't hurt).  But we all do it. If not outside, then in.

Partly, we in the US inherited our need to be busy from the Pilgrims. Puritans truly believed that idle hands were the Devil's workshop, and they stressed the importance of cleanliness and busy-ness, ideas that we now revere today. I can't tell you how many times I've heard visitors to the US remark about how obsessed we are about being clean and smelling pretty. This is not something every culture worries about. Many cultures prepare food with bare hands (yes, even in restaurants) and even eat with their hands. Americans, though, are repelled by this behavior. Hands are so dirty.

So in our culture, if we aren't busy, or cleaning, or busy cleaning, we tend to start yelling at ourselves. We "should" all over ourselves: "I should walk the dog, I really should iron those dinner napkins. I should clean out the gutters."

And it takes its toll. We're a very depressed people. Now, there are a lot of factors for depression, but this is definitely one of them and it gets the short shrift, so I'm going to focus on it. It also includes within it my #1 tip to abolishing depression: giving yourself credit.

I have and do struggle with depression my whole life. Yes, sometimes it is so bad I can't get out of bed. Yes, I've contemplated suicide on many occasions. Yes, it is a debilitating, serious disease. But there are two things that clear it up really quickly. 1: helping others. And 2: Giving yourself credit.

Since #1 involves being able to get out of bed, we focus on #2, which you can do in bed.

I've talked in my nonfiction book Talking Back (You can get it on Amazon/Kindle, too) about sometimes just needing a standing ovation for doing things like getting up in the morning. For someone who is depressed, that can be very difficult, indeed, and is worthy of some praise.

Now, since most of us are not rich enough to hire someone to give us standing ovations whenever we brush our teeth, I propose this: Be your own better-than-best friend.

Go ahead and give yourself a standing ovation. Or, in a much quieter version keep a journal, and leave the top half of every page to listing all the great things you did that day.

It sounds silly, I know. Maybe it is. But it works.

I do this every day. It's part of my Eudaimonia Project, yes, but I started it before then. I started it as a suggestion from The 4-Day Win by Martha Beck.

Give Yourself Credit.

It revolutionizes your life, if you do it. You can battle any terrible day by writing such mundane things as: Took a shower. Made myself a coffee. Made my husband a coffee. Packed a lunch. Walked up stairs. Smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Resisted biting nails for entire HR presentation.

Try it for four days, then comment below and tell me how it went. It feels silly at first, but it is such a mental health breakthrough, I am sure you'll love it.  This is absolutely, hands-down, the easiest and quickest way to turn back the depression tide for me. Of course, helping people is the only way I know to beat depression, but giving yourself credit will turn your day around every time.

Why do we Eat?

I recently read an article about a yoga instructor who gained 40 lbs as an experiment in self-judgment, social judgment, etc.

Of course, it was enlightening and wonderful and eye-opening. But what resonated with me?

This statement right here, that came out during and interview : "I wasn't trying to gain a certain amount of weight - I just let go of any control or dietary restrictions. My style of eating has always been eating for health. And I changed that to eating anything and everything and all amounts of food that I desired or wanted or thought, 'Oh, that would be great.' "

And then I thought: "Why do I eat?"

Usually the thought that goes through my mind right before my hand reaches for a snack is, "Oh, that looks good." Or the shorter, simpler, "yummy!" What if I didn't eat this way?

What if I put less emphasis on how food felt or tasted or smelled, and I focused on eating what nourished my body? What if I put less guilt around food in general and just said, "No, eating is about supporting my physical body, not my emotional moment." What if I judged two food options based on which was healthier, instead of which would make my toes tingle?

For a fat person, this is radical.

What if food became a source of disease or health to me, instead of an opportunity for pleasure? After all, I have plenty of pleasure in my life, and plenty of sources of pleasure. These are not the days of darkness and depression when I thought about quitting smoking and told myself, "This is the only thing I enjoy; I can't give it up."

I enjoy lots of things, now. I rarely need to dig out of a funk for more than a day in a row, I get to bask in the sunlight and work on pet projects. My sadnesses are real, but I am actively working to eliminate them. I have deep, meaningful conversations with my husband and no one gets hurt. We laugh together every day and we don't need to be mean to do it. Toes tingle regularly and often, and it has nothing to do with cheesecake.

So, what would happen if I ate for health (or for illness) instead?

It's not that I've been unaware of the health or unhealthiness of food. Of course I've known, intellectually, that excess sugar (or, it seems more and more, ANY sugar), trans fats, processed ingredients, etc. are unhealthy. I knew it, but the food tasted so good, I would eat it anyway and be like, "yummy."

I would get excited about a food. I would anticipate how good it would taste (it never does taste as good as you think it will, nor does it ever get better than the first bite).

I would pat my belly, even if I was uncomfortably full (stuffed), and feel proud of myself for conquering some kind of gustatory challenge: "I owned that pizza."

Oh, I'd feel guilty later.  In fact, once I started eating healthier (a temporary evil to lose weight, right?) I couldn't stomach a lot of fat or sugar, and it would make me ill to the point of needing to vomit (not a binge-purge, just an upset tummy). then I would feel really bad, because I so obviously just poisoned myself.

So I'd watch TV and avoid my feelings.

It's like, I know I'm doing this. I'm aware of it, and this awareness is also a source of guilt and just feeling generally icky about myself. I'm aware of it, but I cannot stop it.

Can I?

Is  it really as simple (not easy, but simple) as changing my perception of the exciting bits of food, and becoming excited about nutrition instead of "badness"?  Can I turn guilty pleasure into just plain pleasure?

Hello, Experiment!

If Not Now, When?

There's nothing like a few rapid-fire epiphanies.

I was sitting on the couch, popping candy into my mouth and watching junk TV, when a series of epiphanies roiled through me. The first one? I have choice.

Let's do that again:

I HAVE CHOICE

I hear a lot of self-help and women's empowerment people speaking of "co-creating" and being a "co-creator". Normally, I roll my eyes a little. It sounds a little too much like "The Secret" by Rhonda Byrne, which I--in times of skepticism--feel is little more than confirmation of types of confirmation bias. In other words, your life comes out more positively when you think positively because you only accept the data when that happens, and you reject the data when bad things happen (you assume you were "worrying" or other things).

It's the same argument as faith healing: if you were healed, you obviously had enough faith, but if you weren't, then you didn't. It's also the same argument as when you call a person a "fighter" for surviving something. It assumes that those who didn't survive weren't fighters, and of course they aren't around to argue with you, now, are they?

So, anyway, the point of this mini-diatribe is that the whole terminology of "Co-creator" or "Co-equal" always seemed a little Far Out/New Agey for me.

But there I was, sitting on the couch, eating something that I had sworn off eating several weeks ago, and I thought. "I choose this." I choose sitting on the couch right now. I choose stuffing this food item in my mouth. (Of course, did I put the item down? No. But hang in there a minute.)

I am choosing, right now, to be fat and unhealthy. I am choosing to waste my time on junk TV. I am choosing to harm my body with this candy. I can choose right now to be healthier. I can choose to get up and do push-ups. I can choose to exercise. I can choose to learn something new, or work on my websites, or go take a shower.

Note the verb-tense change: I went from "I am choosing" to "I can choose."

Immediately I wanted to find a silicone bracelet that said "choose", or even, "I choose". If I ever get one made up, I'll offer it here. But, if you've noticed, I led myself completely off the subject of taking responsibility for my actions in the moment. I was thinking, planning, hypothesizing of the future, not the now. I was still eating the candy and sitting on the couch, still half-watching trash TV.  I caught myself doing this and decided to try doing a real push-up instead. It was funny. That was the second epiphany:

Choice is now. 

The agency of choice is in the now. Either you are choosing something, or you are not choosing (choosing its opposite, unchoosing).

But this always happens right now: You can't really choose something in the future, because you are unchoosing it for now.

It goes along with mindfulness: the moment is mine. This minute, this hour, is completely under my control. It ties with the Seven Habits, too: I can control my response. It's also the basis for having an internal locus of control, and thus having increased confidence, success, and a bajillion other good things.

The third epiphany happened a little later. I was still watching Junk TV, and came across a show on Preppers. I love preppers. I am an intellectual prepper: I don't do anything about it, but I love to think about it. I'm also an armchair prepper: I think about what all the preppers are doing wrong.

So, my most comment lament  of preppers is that so few of them are living NOW the way they plan to live after the Shit Hits The Fan (SHTF)--yes, that's a real term.

Some people can foods for future catastrophes. Some people save seeds. Most have bug-out shelters and plans to get to their safe place when SHTF.

So, are they learning to cook with canned ingredients? Are they living in those bunkers now? What good are seeds unless SHTF when you can plant them and you don't need the food right away? I mean, plants take months to grow. Even leaf lettuce takes several weeks to get to a good size, and then, if you don't plant several weeks' worth at a time, you're out of lettuce for another several weeks.

I am a proponent of living a simpler life, of recycling more, of recognizing the bounty around us, of eating wild foods, of ten million other things that are all good and green and right.

but how many of them am I doing right now?!?

Like the preppers, I am failing big time on an important thing:

Live now the way you intend to live in the future, otherwise the future life will never happen.

So, if I want to eat wild foods in the future, I need to start eating them now. If I want to snare rabbits in the future, I should be snaring them now. If I want to make my own clothes in the future, I should make them now.

Of course, there are some limitations. I live in a suburb, and people are going to go a little nuts if I start poaching rabbits, or if I put a hutch on my patio and start slaughtering the beasties.  A lot of the plants nearby are contaminated with industrial fertilizers and pesticides, so I need to get my wild plants from the open space areas, and then I need to be careful I don't deplete any species.

But notice my verb tenses again: "I need to" , not "I am [doing]".

And that brings us to the fourth epiphany:

Healthful, balanced living is simple, but it's not easy.

And that's the real secret, isn't it?

Revising Activities

Since "revising" means "seeing again", I thought it would be a good name.

I had a conversation with my husband about perception this weekend. Namely, about how perceiving something as "work" can make it seem absolutely dreadful, even if it's something you love doing, whereas telling yourself it's a prize that you earn after doing chores turns it into something that's wonderful.

I read a lot of Amish books. Obviously, the books aren't Amish, but they're about the Amish, and a phrase that pops up a lot is "Work is fun."

I won't go so far to say that work is fun. In fact, work (the 9-5 Corporate kind, the Part-Time Service Industry kind, the Customer Service kind, and pretty much every other kind) has been so tortuous and horrifyingly soul-crushing that I doubt I will ever get past the trauma I've imbued that word with, but I understand the meaning behind the phrase.

An activity is not-fun, or it's fun, and the choice is yours.

So in that vein, I'm revising and re-seeing the "work" that I do. At least, the work I do for my family, the work I will be doing in the future to support my family without Corporate America on my back. I'm looking forward to doing the "work" that I've always wanted to do: learning about something new, sharing it with people via written words, and then learning another new thing. . .

Fiction, infopreneurial. . . it doesn't matter. This is my dream, my fun. Work? Never. This is what I do to get out of doing the un-fun stuff.

Recommitting

Today, a close-call reminded me why my goals are important:

My family is dependent on one primary source of income. The other sources can come or go, but this one source of income is the biggest, and without it, we would lose where we live, we would not be able to eat.

You might think that nearly losing this source would re-commit me to maintaining it.

And you couldn't be more wrong.

If anything, this near-disaster woke me up to the old adage: don't put all your eggs into one basket. Right now, one basket sure has most of my eggs.

So it's time to start weaving more baskets. Part of Eudaimonia is balance. Part of it is independence. All of it is being able to take care of myself and not leave myself in potentially abusive situations. And right now a single company has me bent so far over the rail that I cannot stand up on my own.

So a major focus on the Eudaimonia Project are going to be becoming financially independent, so I can say "Take this job and shove it" just as soon as my job starts demanding impossible things of me (like they always eventually do."

What have you done to lessen your dependence on a single company?

Finance Blows

As part of this project, I needed to get a grip on my finances.

Of course, that meant digging up all of those bills I've been shoving into a drawer (or throwing out).

It also meant looking at my credit score (yikes!).

I still have yet to get my credit report, but before I can undo any of the damage I've done, we have a HUGE expense coming up, that derails all of our efforts to invest and save and do the other things we had been trying to do so well.

There's nothing like a financial emergency to break up your good karma.

So here I am, suddenly feeling the responsibility I've been trying to hide from, but I'm not in a position to make it better.  Or, at least, that's what I thought.

It's amazing how creative you get when you let recrimination go. Yes, I've screwed up and lowered my credit score. Divorces and custody battles will do that. But I can pay things off one by one. I can make deals with creditors, and pay off part of an overdue balance every month. I actually can improve my score by paying my bills on time, and putting notes on my credit history about the divorce process and how long it took.

Finance blows sometimes, but the best thing to do is get it off your back.

Face it, Fight it, WIN.

This is what I'm learning to do, purchase by purchase.

Dreaming the Dream

Yesterday was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech's 50th Anniversary. Although it saddens me to acknowledge that we have not achieved his dream, it also inspires me to dream my own dreams. I have dreams of being happy, of making a living doing things I love, of not letting my past and the abuse others rained down on me reign in my dreams.

I don't want equality for a whole group, just myself. And while my rights have not been taken away by another group, my belief in my rights was taken away piece by piece.

In grade school, we had an exercise once a year called "LILAC", which stood for "Look, I'm Lovable and Capable". We'd make these signs and hang them around our neck for the day.

When someone made you feel bad, you tore a piece of your sign off. When someone made you feel good, you put a piece back on.

There was one girl who was left with nothing but nubs on the ends of her string. To this day, I will never forget that girl or her LILAC sign. And while, in this particular story, that girl wasn't me, she was me in the larger story of my life. People were like piranhas to me: they picked and bit and excised pieces of me and who I believed I was until there was nothing left.

So, on this Anniversary of the "I Have a Dream" speech, which encourages--no, demands--action until we have the same opportunities as others, and demands that we stand up for one another when someone's Constitutional rights are being violated, and that we change the system that allowed this to happen in the first place, I launched a new blog, called The Revolution Starts Now: Buck the American Dream.

Why? Because I have to fight. I have to make a difference. I'm not going to achieve much in the way of Eudaimonia if I don't start fighting for what's right, and there isn't much left that's right in our world.

I have a dream that I and others will achieve a lasting sort of peace that comes with being happy with ourselves and our accomplishments. That feels well-earned pride, but knows humility as well. I have a dream that we can make Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream a reality if we all do the right thing.

That might be respecting others, helping single mothers, being good role models, or just not popping the locks when we see a Black man on the corner. We have to stop living this way we've been living: this raping the world and bullying one another and putting our happiness into things.

On Broken Promises and Re-Commitment

We just got back last night from driving the children more than halfway across the country to drop them off at Dad's for their visit. I have learned some very important lessons:
1) We need to fly them from now on.
2) "Bad" food isn't good; but it is addictive.
3) Pizza puts 3 inches around my waist, no matter how "in control" I stay.
4) Sleep is critical to life-changing transformations.

There's really no way to travel and not break promises to myself.  I "let myself off the hook" for the trip, but I was promising myself I'd behave better than I did. I promised myself it was just for the two days of intense travelling. But it's not.

I'm spending today and tomorrow recovering; easing back into my dietary goals, easing back into my exercise goals. But coming back also brings into focus those changes I haven't started making yet, but need to: the financial goals.

I guess it's not fair to say that I haven't started working on these goals. I have. I have been tracking expenses like an anal-yst and am about to analyze July's expenditures. I will evaluate how I feel about these categories of spending. I have been budgeting, also, and planning the purchases I intend to make.

But upon arriving back home, I find I need to look into the acquiring of more money to pay down previous debts and clear up my credit history (and my husband's). While my husband will be working massive overtime, I--who have no overtime--will look at other ways. We are ready to pursue the other parts of our dream: buying land and eventually moving onto it.

It's a scary step, but a good one. This is why we're working, after all. To live. To make our dreams come true.

So, looking forward to the future, as full as it may be of work and planning, I re-commit myself to my goal: to live peacefully and harmoniously, enjoying the process, and working toward my goals.

100 lbs And other Fitness Goals

I forgot to mention the goals for physical health and fitness:

1. Lose 100 lbs from my original weight. From 256 to 156. within 2 years, but preferably 1.
2. Walk or run up Pikes Peak (Mom wanted to do this and I went back to Buffalo before we could). Next summer.
3. Get a clean check-up from the Dr. (where he doesn't say, "lose weight") within 2 years
4. Run a marathon (Next summer)
5. Crazy: Run across the US (3,500 miles) within 5 years
6. Survival weekends/months (Think "Naked and Afraid") within 2 years
7. Ride horses again (<200 lbs). by Spring (8 months)
8. Forget to eat again (to not have thoughts of food consume my thoughts, pun intended) within 3 months.
9. Be able to defend myself physically. (emotionally is in a different goal section) within 1 year
10. Be able to pick up my husband like he can pick me up (lift 200 lbs). within 1 year.
11. Do a push-up: within 2 months.
12. Do a pull-up: within 6 months.
13. Wear a size 10 or (gasp!) smaller-Within 2 years.

Exercise

I have to confess: I feel great this morning. My thigh muscles will barely lift me from my chair, but I feel great.

I kept promises to myself. Then I exceeded those promises--for me. And I even still took care of my family. I didn't have to sacrifice one for the other, I just had to be willing to try.

Let me explain:
On a normal evening, the kids play video games, maybe come out to the living room to converse and cuddle, and I watch TV, lamenting how tired I am.

But I've been serious about this project, and part of this project is about health and fitness. So I decided that it was OK to spend $12.00 on myself to get the Kindle edition of  Choose More, Lose More for Life by Chris Powell. You know, the guy on "Extreme Weight Loss".

And I'm super-glad that I did.

Why? Not just for the carb-cycling--although that was my original motivation--but for the transformation aspects of the book. The psychology of it.  The whole idea that broken promises to yourself are what bring you down.

Yes, terrible things have happened in my life. Amazingly wonderful things have happened, too. And while I was always a chunky kid, I also always could walk 10 miles without a problem, climb trees all day long, chase horses, handle a bow, and do some excellent knife-work. I was amazing on a bike. I felt powerful and in control in my environment--outside, away from people.

It was when I no longer had the luxury of spending every day outdoors that the weight piled on. I pretended to still be in control of my environment--but I wasn't. I was lying to myself and breaking promises to myself, then feeling more and more trapped by every promise that broke and left me powerless and afraid.

And now I'm an adult, and still breaking promises to myself. I kept telling myself I'd "get a  handle on ____," or "conquer ___". But I have no handles and I'm no conquistador.  Well, the old me had no handles and was no conquistador.

Now, it's a different story.

I got the book three days ago. I've slowly walked into the program, not because I made myself, but because I wanted to. I promised myself these things: I would look in the mirror and tell myself "I am worth it"; that I would keep my promises basic, reasonable, and within my power; and that I would eat a piece of fruit every day.

And that's it. But because I've kept my promises for three days, I felt good. I felt open to talk to myself (in my head) again. And I found out that I eat because I'm afraid I'm not good enough. And I'm afraid I'm not good enough because I'm not strong. And I must not be strong because I can't protect myself. And I can't protect myself because I eat too much and I'm not strong. And someone who can't protect themselves is a burden on their community/family, so I'm not good enough. And someone who can't keep her word isn't any good, either. (I grew up in CO--personal and communal security is a big deal out here--God n' Guns).

But keeping my word to myself meant that I was a good person, or at least a worthwhile person. Telling myself that I'm a worthwhile person meant the inner me could  come out and play, and she startled me: She told me to get off my duff and get strong.

Powell's book told me to only promise myself 5 min of cardio. So I said, "OK, I'll do the warm-up and the stretch, and then just five minutes of the Fit Test (Insanity)." And I did the whole thing. Let me say that again:

I did the whole thing.

Then I found the numbers from when my husband and I did the Fit Test in Buffalo, and I saw I had demolished my previous numbers. Doubled and tripled them. Not only am I 17 pounds lighter than I was then, but I am twice as strong. I actually demolished about half of my husband's numbers, and he's the fittest person I know.

Ok, that was amazing, right?

But guess what happened after that? I asked the kids if they wanted to go swimming. And they did. And we had a blast. I've been trying to lure them into the pool, and then we do "fun" things like racing across the length of the pool, or run through the shallow end as a race, or "tow" one another through the water. It's sneaky exercise. And we did all of those things. Plus, I did some laps. And I got in the hot tub to ease my muscles, because at this point, they were fatiguing pretty badly. I love it when my muscles fatigue. It means I really worked them. I loved in High School when I lifted weights, too.

And what happened after that?

I did the dishes.

What!? Yes. I did them. All of them. And then I was sleepy so I went to bed.

And in the morning I did a 9-Minute Mission, even though I hadn't promised myself I would. And I still made my honey his coffee. And I still got dressed. And I planned out my food for the day.

I feel great. I feel Eudaimonia right now: I am living right. I made a wise investment in myself, and it's paying dividends. I'm doing right by my family while I am making decisions for myself.

All because of three promises, which were kept. I actually wanted to help myself, to choose myself, once I had kept a promise to myself.

I choose me; I choose a good life.

A Week

One week, and every major struggle is cast in sharp relief.

First: The influence of Others on the Eudaimonia Project. And on the heels of that: Anxiety over the future during the Eudaimonia Project. And then after that, the willful choosing to live against the Eudaimonia Project.

I swear, the Devil is inside of us.

The vexation of all of our plans just lives and breathes inside us. We are our own problem. I am my own worst enemy in this project.

Almost right after my last post, my husband said something to which I flipped out. There's no point going into details, but it was one of those insecure moments where you are not sure if things are going to tip very badly, and  you're half-afraid they tipped into "bad" when you weren't looking.

We got over it; we talked through it, which is generally how we handle everything, but not before I was completely wrecked emotionally. And when I'm wrecked emotionally, I hide and I eat.

And eat.

And hide.

My back actually hurts from being curled up on the couch most of the weekend. And my intestines will never forgive me for bingeing.

So then, I nearly wrecked my own birthday celebrations by being afraid of the future. My fears were completely unrelated to what had happened before: just random fears of not living up to people's expectations of me. Being afraid that the elaborate (to me) celebration was a show, and maybe people secretly hated me.

Luckily, hubby was there to rescue the day again for me.

And then for most of the weekend, I gave myself permission to do everything I shouldn't do, because it was my birthday weekend, I was mad about not having a lot of money, and it had been so emotional. So I chose against my project.

And I feel awful. Not guilty, but just sick and tired and disappointed in a nearly "wasted" weekend.

On the plus side, the project has already heightened my sense of family, so that I want to spend more active, face-to-face time with my family. I wanted to write. I did some things on my "nagging tasks" list. I wasn't a total lump on a log.

But now, it's back to business: the business of learning to be happy. And I'm so happy to be back.

First Post and Welcome!