Moving forward on a not-so-good feeling day

I admit it, yesterday was a not so great day.  We were freshly home after our five-day beach vacation with our my family.  People woke up a little grumpy (including myself) and things were much quieter than they had been at the beach house.  

Often, for me, a quieter time leaves plenty of space for the negative stuff to creep in: mean messages to myself, unearthing of old hurts, general negativity for what’s ahead.  

What was ahead for the day was a barbecue with our friends to celebrate the Fourth of July.  Although I know it’s always fun, my negative space left me not wanting to interact with anyone outside of those I absolutely had to interact with.  Minimizing any damage I might do, if you will. 

Adding to the negativity was that we were just home from being away.  Going to any food-related party (which is every party) I had no plan for what to bring for the kids to eat, since we can never guarantee that there will be food for them to eat at a party (and we really don’t expect others to accommodate for us).

I really wasn’t wanting to put the required energy behind thinking about food.  

I just felt UGH. And it had that hopeless feeling to it, like “things are bad and they will always be bad.”  It’s so strange when that happens. We just came off of a fantastic vacation and were home in our not-too-hot home, mostly unpacked and back to our normal routine.  There was no reason to feel this way.  

My first thought was to get rid of the feeling.  I started running through all of my usual ideas. It went like this, “Maybe I can avoid all responsibilities and read.  Maybe I can get out of going to the party. Maybe I can get away with being super rude to my family. Maybe I should get drunk today.”  Once I reached the drinking option, I realized I might not be on the right track.  

I decided that I needed to bring in all of my fairly newly learned strategies to deal with them.  

1. Keep my habits. 

Generally, I wake up too early to assess my true feelings in the morning.  It’s usually still dark and I’m always a little sleepy eyed. Any feeling assessment at that moment is subject to change, I mean, I’m still kind of asleep!  But even if I feel that bad feeling creeping in, I do not use that as an excuse to skip out on the things I need to operate at my best. First, it’s yoga. I kinda dread and put off yoga every day.  It’s not my favorite because it invites even more quiet and that is always a challenge for me, but I know that it allows me to have more awareness in my day and take a step back from the chaos to see patterns in myself and my surroundings so I can slow down and make better, more kind decisions. Second, I have to work out.  I do have at least one rest day a week, but for most days, working out is part of the day. Working out wakes me up and brings in a positive, warm energy to the start of my day. If I work out and still feel the “ugh,” that’s a sign that it’s more than just my normal waking-up-bad-mood. But my questioning of my mood or feeling tired is not an excuse to get out of doing things that I know are good for me - and are likely to improve my mood. 

2. Realize that it’s just a feeling and it won’t last forever. 

Although it feels like it’s everything, my feeling is just a feeling.  It’s not actually a reflection of my life and as my friend says, it’s not existential.  My feelings are just feelings and it’s ok to feel them and take my time with them if that’s what’s needed, but if it’s unclear what it’s about and it just feels like a funk, then I don’t need to get lost under it.  And if I do start to get lost under it, I have to remind myself that it won’t last forever - even if it feels like it.  

3. Don’t act on the feeling, just do what is needed.

When the feeling creeps in, I want to disengage from everything and everyone.  Giving in to that feeling is just not helpful for overcoming the feeling or for being the kind of wife and mom that I want to be. I took a moment to look around and see what is great about the moment - yesterday it was about the gorgeous weather, that I was going to make progress on my junk room and that it was good to be home.  I told Jeff how I was feeling so he would know it’s not him, it’s just a feeling. I did have to keep reminding myself to not let my feeling escape out of my mouth onto my kids or Jeff. If I’m buttering bread and am asked for ice in their water, I can respond calmly. If someone wants a hug while I’m grabbing the ice, I can stop and give a hug.  They don’t need to feel shame or hurt because of my psychological turmoil. 

4. When it feels like all you want do is disengage, don’t.

I woke up not wanting to go anywhere or interact with anyone - in person or digitally.  I was annoyed at the idea that I had messages to respond to and people to interact with.  But let’s say that I had the option to ignore all of them - which in my mind, was not a cool thing to do - what would I do instead?  I would spend time alone and either wallow and spin out even more or numb myself out with movies, books or food. I have to ask myself if that’s what I really want for myself: to live a life spinning out or numbed out.  For me, the answer is no. And really, what I know to be true is that when I choose to engage - even when I don’t feel like it- I walk away feeling better and happier and I generally don’t regret it, much like exercising. 

5. There’s a pattern between things slowing down and this feeling. 

This feeling is familiar.  Any time that things slow down, the feeling pops in.  It has happened in years past during longer school breaks - even before I was married and had kids.  When the break was long enough for me to relax, my anxiety would get going and have me obsessing over concerns about students or reliving past negative experiences. I had kind of forgotten about the feeling when we started having kids because they kept me so busy all the time.  Now that we are in a slower season because they are more independent, there is more and more opportunity for the feeling to creep in. And I find the feeling creeping in when Jeff is around and I know I have an “out” and can let him care for them - and him being home means that things are even more slow for me because I can take a slower pace, which often means that my mind goes into overdrive on negative things.  Or when our pace slows down because school is out or I have extra help, that’s when I can expect this feeling to happen. I don’t wait around for the feeling, but when I feel it, I take a moment to think about the bigger picture and ask myself, “Are things slowing down a bit and that’s causing my mind to create this situation?” Often, the answer is yes. And then I decide on my way forward. 

By the end of the night, I could look back on the day with some pride.  I felt that feeling coming in and when I recognized it, I was able to move forward in awareness so that it didn’t take over. Instead, I was able to enjoy all of the most perfect parts of my day.  

Dreaming of Abs

So, this may be the strangest goal I’ve ever shared with anyone: I dream of having a six-pack.

Since I was a teenager, I’ve dreamt of having the lines that criss-cross one’s abdomen.  I was an athlete and worked out harder than I ever had in my life and my stomach was flat, but it was never defined.  I wondered how people did that.

I would occasionally follow one of those ab regimens that are prolific in women’s magazines for a day or two and then drop it.  And then I just figured it wasn’t for people like me. I just wasn’t disciplined on my own back then.

Having defined abs is such a strange and petty goal and it never really was a true goal - it was just a dream.  But I like goals. And if you know me, when I start something, I go all in. I get to the point of satisfaction with my mastery and then I move on to something else.  Sometimes that lasts days, weeks or years. (Prepare yourself, I am currently on a path to learning how to make frosting roses. More on that later.)

Last year though, in preparation for our family’s Hawaii trip, I challenged myself with a longer and more intense workout and started focusing on treating food like fuel instead of a comforter and my body actually started to change.  I couldn’t believe that I was actually getting definition in my abs after having three children and at the age of 37. At that time, my goal was to get to our summer vacation feeling confident in my bikini. And I did.

I was so proud of myself for making the commitment and sticking with it.  Because I started in February and stuck with it until June, it was my longest display of food and exercise related discipline.  

Once we hit the islands, though, it all went out the window.  I continued to work out while we were there, but the food discipline went out the window.  And, as some of my virtual trainers say, “abs are made in the kitchen.”

After Hawaii, I loosely got back into a more disciplined diet, but it wasn’t the same.  Then it was a slow decline leading into the holiday season. After my high school reunion I was even less disciplined.

Once you get into that place where you’ve slowly evolved (or de-volved) away from something that is good for you, it’s hard to remember why you did it in the first place.  And it’s hard to find a new start with it. When you have a delightful piece of cake sitting in front of you, it’s hard to remember that it doesn’t give you the same energy as the healthy snack you conveniently forgot to bring with you - especially when it gives you so much joy in the moment you’re eating it.

As you may remember, the new year was a fresh start for our family eating-wise.  Remember how I said that when I start something, I go all in? Well, that’s what I did for our home diet adjustment.  Over the holidays I studied cookbooks, made lists, did shopping and then January was execution month. Because we were learning our new allergy-friendly lifestyle, my personal nutrition planning took the back burner.  I also had to learn how to adjust my nutrition to our new diet (news flash: it wasn’t hard at all). But the new year also meant lots of appointments trying to get everything sorted out for Levi.

I never stopped working out.  That’s a habit that is actually more part of my mental health than my physical appearance.  I need those moments of sweating and heavy breathing to set myself in the right direction for the day.  But the nutrition piece… that was the part that was missing.

Once things were in place for Levi and we were had momentum and some normalcy around our new life, it was time to turn my focus back to myself.   And so, here I am: five weeks into Mission Ab Definition. And it’s working.

Because I had gone to such a loose diet that involved lots of comfort and convenience eating, there were noticeable changes in the first week.  I don’t weigh myself often, because 1) I don’t want to and 2) my goal is around definition, not the scale. So I take weekly pictures to check my progress.  It’s weird. And I love it.

As with anything, you may see big changes to start and then it slows down and becomes more subtle.  Such is the case with my definition. I am progressing slowly now. And it’s disappointing. Like most, I’d rather see something major happen super fast and then move on and be done with it.  

This goal is a reminder that being consistent over a long(er) period of time is what’s really needed to achieve your goals.  Now, if I don’t meet this goal of mine, it’s no big deal. I’m not skipping out on ALL of the fun stuff and I’m not working out like crazy (just 20 mins a day for now).  If we have a celebratory ice cream because Levi did something major (like get on stage to receive an award) then I participate in that or if we have breakfast for dinner, I eat a pancake with everyone. But all of that is a small snippet of the big picture of eating for me now.  I’m not going to go crazy trying to get the six-pack, but I do want to see what I’m capable of at this point in my life given my parameters (I have to work out at home, I can’t work out for more than an hour, I can’t be hungry all the time). If I can be consistent for a year (which is far beyond 80 days!), it will be interesting to see the results!

When you get a diagnosis...

In all of the time that we have been working with various professionals, I hadn’t thought much about a diagnosis for our son.  I just knew that we were using our available resources to help him. When the school’s support team met last month to talk through next steps, they asked if he had an official diagnosis.  While I knew what diagnosis meant, I wasn’t really sure what that would look like. I wasn’t even sure that any of the doctors had specifically named something as an “official” diagnosis.

And then the other day, I finally remembered to circle back to the doctor to see about an official diagnosis.  And she had two: one that I suspected and a second one that we had discussed before in passing, but never as an official diagnosis.  And then there I was, sitting with this diagnosis and I was a little shocked.

I guess I was shocked at the official diagnosis of it.  I knew he definitely had the symptoms, but I didn’t know at what point the diagnosis would come - and I guess I figured it would be down the road more.  

The benefit of being a teacher (well, one of them anyway) is that I’ve seen how this diagnosis can play out in the teenage years.  And I know that it can go away if we can teach him how to manage his anxiety. And as far as diagnoses go, this one is pretty minor.  And yet, it gave me pause.

I was discussing it with a friend and she asked if I had told him about the diagnosis.  We haven’t. And then she asked if we were doing anything differently. We aren’t.

And when she asked those two questions, I had to explain to her, we aren’t doing anything differently, it’s just that psychologically my perspective is different.  THAT is the part that’s interesting. Nothing is different except the words that we use around the same thing that we’ve seen all year. And, last week, the week that we got the diagnosis, he spoke to his teacher at least once each day for the longest speaking streak he’s ever had! What has changed is how I see him.  Rather than being a person fully capable of stepping up and doing the things we ask, the diagnoses makes me hesitate. And that’s not right. It has me asking his future church school teacher if he will still be able to attend church school given his situation - but with no diagnosis, I would have assumed that he belonged there and just explained that he’s a little different than some kids, but does things mostly the same.

The real upside to having a diagnosis is that we have a justification for advocating for our son, but the things we’re advocating for are not meant to cater to maintaining this diagnosis and instead to help him grow out of it.  My hope is that having this diagnosis will bring awareness to his future teacher and maybe create a little more patience and compassion, but not fewer opportunities to participate. And that’s what I need to remember: now that we have this little piece of paper, our expectations of him do not change at all, but we may need to have a little more patience and compassion around his timetable to sort things out.

So for now, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing and challenging him to push himself to do what he can.  In the meantime, I’ll be checking my mind’s desire to pave the way for him.