I haven't disappeared, just had a busy weekend (doing nothing that is!).
Friday night was lovely, we had a yummy fish and chips dinner with family and close friends, which ended in an Easter egg hunt (and a very cranky, tired six year old). I even went down the big slide a couple of times. You may think 'so?', but to me it means that I might slowly be getting my mojo back.
I have been letting myself go a bit since Sam died. Which is exactly what I should not have done, but if you're in any way familiar with the cycle of overeating/guilt/overeat some more, then you'd recognise my behaviour. I am almost compulsive in my self-destructive behaviour sometimes. I am fully aware of what I'm doing and hate myself for it, but then do it some more to find 'comfort'. Some time soon I'll blog about this, because I think it's another 'issue' that I need to work through.
Firstly I stopped exercising. I had been going OK: going to the gym three times a week, walking most of the other days, going for swims and bike rides. I'm pretty good when I'm in the habit, I actually like being active.
I was so tired at the end of last year, I think I stopped around my birthday (16th) and was intending to resume once school broke up. Of course then Samuel died, and apart from the occasional walk/bike ride, I haven't really gotten back into it.
Then there was the food. I am the cook in our house (which generally I don't really mind doing), but after Samuel died, I just didn't feel like it. There didn't seem much of a point. And people were making us lovely dinners. People also were coming around with yummy things like chips and ice cream and chocolate and cake and I find it very difficult to resist those things at the best of times. And I've always been a bit of a comfort eater.
I've also been drinking too much. Not every day, but on the weekends, and too much in one sitting. And I haven't been sleeping well or drinking enough water.
Of course because of all that I've put on some weight, and I feel like crap. I knew when I was doing it that this would happen, and I didn't care. That's the worst thing. It doesn't do me or my family any favours. Samuel wouldn't be too happy about it either.
But I'm slowly getting back into it. I don't want to say 'I'm going on a diet', because I'm a terrible yo-yo dieter, and that's not good for my body. But I'm going to be a bit more careful. And exercise more. And try to figure out why I do this s**t to myself...
What's the slide got to do with it? Well, the fact that I willingly had fun, ran up the side of the stairs several times and acted a little silly means that perhaps I might find the energy to do all this. We'll see.