Day 128

Bad juju today between me and Dawn. She is angry with me and I'm angry with her. The "whys" are not important; it's just one of those days where we are on different wavelengths that want to cancel each other out. For now we've retreated to different corners of the house in order to give this tempest the time it needs to dial down. Maybe not the most mature response but it tends to be the option with the least amount of risk. When we get like this and try to talk it through, things have a tendency to go from bad to worse. Much in the same way that struggling in quicksand will make you sink that much faster and deeper. Better to relax and wait it out. It's hard not to push back though. 

I'm glad that we are going to see Andrea first thing tomorrow morning as I don't want these bad feelings between us to linger. We've both repeatedly acknowledged how important it has been throughout this ordeal to have each other's support and love. I still need it, need her, and I'm sure Dawn does as well so getting past this quickly will be important for both of us...

I'm getting fat. Well, flabby at least. Definitely gaining weight while at the same time losing whatever muscle tone that I had in the Before. They say that weight is gained and lost in the kitchen and that muscle tone is developed in the gym. Considering that I've completely stopped regulating what I eat and have not worked out in 3 months, this shouldn't come as a surprise. It's a really simple formula: if calories consumed are greater than calories expended, then weight will be gained. Clearly I need to start cutting my caloric intake. Like immediately. If I don't I'm going to have to buy new shorts in a bigger size (NO!) which will really make me angry. There is a part of my brain that is admonishing me for being weak-willed, lazy, for feeling sorry for myself, for making excuses why I can't or won't put in the time and stick to my diet. In the Before, this voice was loud and in charge, most days anyway. For the last few months, it has struggled to be heard, being drowned out by the pain of my anguish. But it's getting louder again and it's not saying very nice things to me or about me. I have a love-hate relationship with this voice. When I'm listening to it and doing well, we are simpatico; but when I try to ignore it, it gets mean and can say some really nasty things. It's very judgemental and does not take kindly to being ignored.

I tried really hard not let this voice ever speak to Damian. There were a handful of times where I would say something that would upset him, either about working out or asking him to reconsider his nutritional decisions, but on the whole I left him mostly alone. This voice in my head sounds a lot like one of my parents. Having grown up with relentless criticism and judgement, it's only natural for this voice to be so entrenched. Knowing how this made me feel, especially when I was in my teens, I did make a conscious effort not to do the same with Damian. Again, not one hundred percent successful, but I did dial it way down as compared to what I went through. Not that it matters much now. No, that's not fair. It does matter. It matters from the standpoint that I know that I, that we, did a really good job raising Damian. It's small consolation, but I can still hang my hat on it so I'm going to do just that. 


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