I think common sense won out on March 1st, and I did not weigh myself. Or maybe it was the cheesy bread I ate in the middle of the night, and knowing I would be heavy in the morning just couldn't get on the scale. Both cases are probably true, but the bottom line is that I did eventually weigh myself on the fourth after three Bright Days and Nights in a row, and saw a new low number since starting Bright Line Eating. 201.2 to be exact, or as exacting as my scale can be at any given moment. Yesterday was lower again at 201.8 - the closest I've been to breaking 200 in about ten years? I think it was 2009 when I had lost weight and competed in the senior archery tournament.
I haven't weighed since, and while the scale is still in the bathroom it's only because I keep forgetting to grab it on the way to the garage. I plan on focusing on my lines and forgetting about the number for at least until 5/1. Or maybe 5/4 - you know, "May the force (fourth) be with you!"
In an affirmation of my little streak of Bright nights, I stopped on the way home from work and picked up some new bras in a smaller size. I'm happy with the fit, but realized on trying them on that only one of them is adjustable to a smaller size. But they were cheap as such things go, and I have no problem buying new ones as needed, so I'm keeping them all.
But I need to address something that has been much on my mind. The chatter in my head keeps trying to justify\explain\excuse away the thought that keeps surfacing. I was so concerned about not being able to 'come all the way in, and sit all the way down' when finally the root of the problem presented itself in an aha moment earlier this week. That's what a caring master mind group and a brain free from drugs for a few days will do to you. It wasn't about me not wanting to keep my lines bright, it was about not being sure I wanted to even be here. Not in Bright Line Eating, but in Life.
Life. That thing I have been holding on to for the sake of my daughter, my mother, my grandchildren. But not for myself. I have held a grudge my whole life, one of my earliest memories is swinging on the gate in front of our house, and remembering coming from someplace wonderful, and bemoaning the fact that I had to be here. Here, in this most mundane and tiresome of places. I have thought about that memory many times in my life, and thought of it in different ways depending on where I was on my journey. At one point I succumbed to the inevitable that I was here for a reason, and that eventually it would present itself, or not, and that I just needed to gracefully accept the fact that I would be here as long as it took and than I might never know the why.
But when Joey died, it all became more confusing. If I was here to love him during his short and hard life, wasn't my job done? Couldn't I just go now? But no, I couldn't disappoint the family that was left, that's not what a 'good girl' does. It's not that they wouldn't do fine without me, but at this age I know that the stigma of the act on those that remain is a dark and ugly thing. So I stayed. Not that I ever actually thought about ending my life. But I often use to tell myself as a girl, that if things were so bad that I felt the urge to leave, I could catch a freight steamer to another part of the world and just have a different life. I realize now that this thought was a way to vent steam, and that some part of me knew I needed the option to stay sane.
So there I was, thinking about what it is I really want as opposed to what I 'have to do' or 'should do', and the thought came that in order to really want things for myself, I need to want to be here. Here on earth. A spiritual being having a human experience. Whatever. But really here. And that's when I had to look at that question seriously. Do I want to be here? After a life spent rebelling against having to be here, could I really embrace the experience, and come all the way in, and sit all the way down.
Because all of a sudden I knew that if I was going to accomplish anything in what is left of my life, I was going to have to make that decision. Did I really want to be here?
I'm pretty sure the answer is yes.
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