I think I can pinpoint the moment from which my week began to go a bit pear shaped and everything around the edges started to disintegrate. It is summed up in the photo below. A perfectly pleasant afternoon at my mum's house. Late lunch, because I went to the gym in the morning, went home and got Grace and then walked to mum's. Fast because as usual, I had procrastinated about the gym and was therefore running late. At the gym, I confronted the fear that has been creeping up on me for a few weeks now. My jeans have beome less and less comfortable, and I have started to favour certain outfits. Yes indeed, I am stacking on the weight again. About five kilos. Aaargh. More gym. Less food. Be hungry. Around this table I was saying that I wish I was one of those people who seem to naturally limit their weight. Who is content with one biscuit instead of wanting three. It's not like I'm back where I was, but five kilos is five kilos I don't want.
So after this, my camera died. Just died. It was only the battery. So I went into town today. Which didn't really make me feel any better about anything. It didn't help that we'd been having a fight discussion, in which I was basically saying that he needed to pull his finger out. We have these discussions every now and then, even though I know that they don't really help anything. It's like all the words build up inside me until they come spewing out and everyone gets unhappy. So I walked around town feeling anxious, and having to call on the mobile to see whether everyone was all right. Which of course they were. So I started to have that little conversation in my head where I ask myself whether I am depressed or nutty, or whether all this is a normal reaction to the sorts of things that are happening in my life. Which I think they are, and I ask myself what the doctor would say, and then think maybe I need to go and see her again soon. And I'll pay her a whole lot of money for her to say what I thought in the first place, that this is a perfectly normal reaction to life stresses. Well, der. It's just that sometimes I don't trust my judgement on what's normal or not anymore. Which I think will be a long term consequence of that particular episode in my life.
I was looking for a new pair of bathers, and that was a whole lot of fun. Especially feeling fatter than usual. Sigh. I didn't buy any because the only pair I halfway liked were a size too big (how ironic) and not on sale at Target (possibly the only item of clothing in the whole shop that wasn't) and I couldn't face buying something I would have to alter at full price. As it was I couldn't face buying anything except the batteries and my lunch. Just. was. not. in. the. mood.
Well, I think that's more than enough whinging for tonight. How was your day?
By the way. They are not my cigarettes. I used to smoke rollies. Which I used to keep in a decorative wallet like folder. I'm missing smoking at the moment. Mum keeps leaving her other packet at our house. I look at them and go, nuh... But there's a part of me that can still feel the bliss. And man oh man, sometimes my fingers just itch to roll a cigarette. More than smoking even.