They say that suicide rates increase at Christmas time. I can understand why as it can be not only a stressful time, but also a confronting one. I only have one sibling and he (and his wife) only have one child, so I don’t have a lot of presents to buy and most of our Christmas celebrations are fairly low key. But, it is a time that I am constantly reminded that I am living a life that does not make me happy.
My parents are currently in town and tonight we went to my brother’s for dinner. As people who are interested in that sort of thing, my brother and sister-in-law were tasked with buying a new digital camera for my mother for Christmas. They handed it over to her tonight and my niece set about showing mum how to use it. I had already lectured mum on the fact that I DO NOT want to be photographed AT ALL and in the event a picture is taken I don’t want to see it. I know I will be shocked and depressed if I get a glimpse of what I actually look like (other than the subjective reflection I see staring back at me from my bathroom mirror). Of course my niece gleefully took a photograph of me which then she stuck in my face. I almost squished my eyes up in time, but did get enough of a eyeful to know that it wasn’t pretty. I lunched with my four best friends last weekend for Christmas and cameras were pulled out. I can never avoid the annual Christmas lunch photographs but make sure they know not to send me copies of the offending pictures.
I find the concept of Christmas parties an angst-ridden one as well. Fortunately I don’t get invited to many. I had to miss my own work celebrations as I was too busy to take the afternoon off. But I have friends who have several to attend and require a new outfit for each one. I would find that stressful. I haven’t had to ‘dress’ for a party for some time. An old school friend of mine is a stylist and she regularly posts pictures on Facebook of her attending the latest social event of the season. I look through her photographs at all of the slim glamourous women and try to imagine how I would cope in that sort of environment. It is bad enough catching up with friends; when I am in loose, large garments that cover most of my body and am surrounded by women in strappy dresses flaunting bare skin. My stylist friend’s latest newsletter asks what we will be wearing on Christmas Day. Hmmm… let me think about it…. Some daggy t-shirt and tracksuit pants. Mainly because none of my shorts fit me and I don’t have anything else to wear. I will be hot as I have to cover my fat arms and I will spend the day self-consciously trying to avoid the camera.
As well as feeling as if I physically don’t ‘fit in’ at Christmas or feel comfortable, there is also the reminder of the impact my weight has on the rest of my life. Most of my friends avoid Christmas cards nowadays and instead I receive emails or newsletters jam-packed with news of their exploits of the past year. These newsletters or emails are generally all about the kids and the family. (We, we, we.) I mulled over my own email in response, realising that I really had nothing much to share this year.
Yes well… I’ve been working. A lot. But I hate my job. So, there’s that. Oh, and I gained all of the weight I lost last year and have spent months trying to do something about it to no avail. And, umm…..
Pitiful indeed. No partner, no children and no exciting happenings to share.
So where does this leave me? Other than full of self pity, that is. And why on earth can’t these maudlin feelings motivate me to make some changes in my life? Am I so devoid of hope that I can’t even visualise a better existence? Perhaps.
Week 2 of the low carb way of eating went out the window with a visit from my best friend from overseas. Yes, I know… excuses, excuses.
I was back on track this week, despite a midweek red wine fest and finally got under 124kgs for the first time since the middle of the year. I am still eating carbs (and many other naughty things) on weekends and need to get that more under control so I don’t ruin all of the weekday good work. Of course, the weeks I have been ‘good’ I have had my parents here and nightly hospital visits to keep me busy. I don’t do so well when I am left to my own devices and dependent solely on my own motivation.
Sometimes it (the concept of dieting, losing weight and CHANGING) feels like a waste of effort. I like dreaming of what my life would be like but can’t put the steps in place to get there. It often feels overwhelming and frankly all too hard. But all I can do is try and I really only need to last 5 days… Perhaps if I see some movement on the scales I will get motivated. Perhaps.