Just like that, I’ve gone from bundles of stress to most of it melting away in the space of a week. My burdensome woes had agitated my synapses into a frenzy, but to quote my favourite film, I’m now calm as a Hindu cow.
My mood has improved. I’ve got a stack of writing done- two draft chapters of my book, and a short story for an open submission for a literary magazine. My work performance has improved, (I’m self employed, so this requires being a self-starter and bucketloads of motivation) and apparently I’m kicking some serious ass on the statistical as well as the scientific front. My house is pristine.
I like to think of my recent stressors (the smaller, less important things) as a package, which have been wrapped in my weight loss problems and tied with a gammy ovary bow. Well, my dear friends, I am happy to say I’m unwrapping the package.
I have a new fridge, the car is back from the garage and we have dealt with our unwelcome visitor in the porch, so the small things upsetting my day-to-day are fixed, which directly improves my eating patterns. (Seriously, try being anxious and stick to healthy eating with no fridge or freezer- banana anyone?)
The real good news is the ‘bigger’ stressors are being dealt with too. The previous house move I talked about is thankfully, not happening. We are back to the original plan of staying where we are until our ‘big house’ is built on the plot next to the farm, which won’t be for at least 18 months. (Phew!)
Even more exciting than that, I received a letter from the NHS- have I not only now been referred to the consultant, but I have an appointment for the middle of March- this still means I have to wait a month to tell him to book me for surgery, but at least I have a date for SOMETHING. He should also be able to tell me rough timescales on the waiting list too.
This excites me more than anything, as I’m really ready to get my life back. The frustrations of struggling to lose weight/exercise and so on have been going on too long, and by the time I’ve seen the consultant it will have been a year since I was diagnosed. I am SO READY. I think what narks me most is that I was doing really well up until around August of last year- my weight loss was coming on beautifully, as was my running and at that point whatever was going on in my body wasn’t really having any adverse effect on the rest of me. In August, getting to goal was a real possibility before I turned 31.
Depending on my surgery dates, I’d like to re-set that goal to being within a healthy BMI by Christmas, and at goal for my 32nd birthday. I was daydreaming about being back out running, and as soon as the doctor tells me I’m allowed, I’m going. That very same day. I don’t care if I can only run a mile, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care if I only run for three minutes. Because I know it won’t be long until I’m back to normal and that feeling of progression and achievement is wonderful.
I love daydreaming about running, and I suppose I’ll be doing it for a while longer, but hey, things are looking up.