R3P4D29/30 - Just call me Eyeore (while I get over myself)

July 19, 2012

Round 3 (R3), Phase 4 (P4 = eat what I want in moderation), Day 29 (D29)/30

One day in Round 3 remains.  I'm ready for Round 4 and losing weight again.  I pretty much always feel this way (and yes, you've read it and heard it from me before) -- these 4 Phases are like seasons -- I'm always ready for them when they begin, and ready for the next one by the time they wind up.  So, giddy up, I think it's time for Spring (monsoon rains of food) for 2 days (I'm "only" loading for 2 days instead of 3 this time, because the past 30 days, I've indulged, as my 10 pounds up shows).  Then, starting Monday, it's blazing hot Summer (as it is right now).  It'll feel good to begin with, but, then, the (food) draught will happen.  And, I'll plug away.  I'm ready. 

Of course, ready is a rather subjective word.  I'm ready to lose more weight.  I'm ready to reclaim that number on the scale that was 10 pounds less than where I am today.  But, am I ready for the emotional fortitude I must have to be successful?  Well, the plain answer is: no.  I'm not emotionally ready -- because, I'm still flipping out about my job.  It's not like I have road rage (I didn't say flipping OFF), or that I'm yelling at people, beating small animals or cutting myself up.  Not THAT kind of flipping out.  Just the inner stomach in knots, fight-or-flight feeling all of the time -- begging God to give me the strength to see me through another MINUTE of this job.  The kind of flipping out where I cry a lot (quite often, kind words from people bring HUGE tears the next second), I want to eat comfort food or spend money ($50 here, $200 there) on comforts like movies, books ... all unnecessary things to living life.

Lord help me.

So, here I go (am I nuts?) with another Round.  My work stress level had ebbed (even though I didn't like much of any of my job duties and would dread work, I still could suck it up and do it well -- internal gray cloud and all).  Then, last Wednesday through last Sunday, that panic of, "I hate this job" (I won't go into why) and "I am doing this job well, but it's killing me on the inside" and "I feel like a square peg getting jammed into a round hole" and "I feel like a bug getting ready to be squished or a dog waiting for a beating" every time I look in my email (which is about 200 times a day -- no joke -- every day) or check my email.  This job is a flood gate.  And, I am like one of the people watching Noah float by on the boat laden with animals.

See, I'm Eyeore.

My positivity is taking a HUGE nose dive, and I feel like a whiner.

So, am I really ready for Round 4?  Lord willing, yes.

I feel like Round 3 was almost wasted (not really), because I gained back almost 10 pounds of my 23 lost because I started turning to food for comfort.  BAD news.  For that, I need prayer.  Doesn't it seem to you like I'm Eyeore and asking for prayer CONSTANTLY since I accepted this job.  Sign number 4,379 that this isn't the right job for me.  But, at this time, it is.  However long that time lasts (Dear Lord, please don't let it be long).  I don't like being a sucker of pity and never giving back to those I love (you peeps).  But, alas, here I am, Eyeoring it up.

What's time?  It's a healer and a killer and subjective and very real.  For example, tomorrow marks the 3 year anniversary of when I found out I had uterine cancer.  Can that really be 3 years?  It feels like 30 years and 30 minutes at the same time.  I guess that's comforting -- time is relative.  So, I've been on this job (that I do not enjoy -- 100% of the job duties are like needles poking me) for 3 months ... it seems like forever and barely any time.  Well, so do a lot of things.  So, get over myself.  So I'll be spending 33 days (starting Monday) eating my Very Low Calorie food.  So, get over myself.  So I spent the last 3 months feeling (at best) blah.  So, get over myself.

The only way I know how to do that, and to change my name from Eyeore back to Tigger is to pray -- moment by moment -- when I feel that work (and the "prison sentence" of 2 - 3 years+ on this job) is devouring me.  This isn't a quick fix.

Tomorrow, I meet with my boss at 12 (for those of you who had heard 9 a.m., she asked me to move if to make way for another meeting) to talk about my mid-year review.  I'm not nervous about what she'll say.  In fact, I'm almost hoping she says this isn't a good job fit for me, so I don't have to do it.  (Doesn't this sound like I'm breaking up with this job?!)  But, I think she'll say I'm doing well (I have the data to prove all I've done) and might have some things I can work on (all bosses do that).  But, what I'm praying I can do is be honest (without being as stream-of-conscious as I am out here) and that she will have a receptive heart to what I am saying.  Lord help me, He knows why He put me here.  I know there are many reasons.  I just can't see the forest through the trees (as my Gram says).  I am praying that, tomorrow, I can see even a tiny corner of that 7 Acre Wood (Pooh Bear, Eyeore reference) so I can become Tigger again.  I like being bouncy and happy on the inside AND outside (instead of fighting so hard during the day to make my outside bouncy when I feel like Eyeore on the inside).

Anyone have a prozac dart that you're willing to spare?