Yesterday was my Jenny wigh-in after missing last week.
I was TOTALLY on my own food-wise the past 2 weeks and I was nervous. My scale hadn't budged.
That's good, I guess, since although it means I didn't LOSE any weight...I also didn't GAIN any.
I lugged all 25 kids to the meeting and put on my best "this has been a tough week" face for my counselor, Elaine.
Then it was the moment of truth. I hopped on the scale (after disrobing to the point of practically being naked.)
And darn it if that Jenny scale didn't say I was DOWN 2 lbs!
Son of a gun!
Then, because I was feeling so good, I got suckered into a "Summer Slim Down" contest and bought more food than I planned.
Next week...all I have to do is lose .3 (that's POINT 3) lbs and I will have reached my half-way goal (according to Jenny) and I will get $50 off!
So maybe I am going to be able to do this on my own. I've had my doubts!
And on to other news...
I had a magnificent idea while running on the treadmill last night.
It seemed magnificent at the time, anyway.
While running, I enjoy listening to some various styles of music.
One of those styles is Casting Crowns (praise music about contemporary issues). I also love dance beats (a la Britney, Beyonce, Outkast, etc)
And then there's the Man-Hater or "I-hate-you-so-much-since-we-broke-up" genre.
I was jammin to that yesterday. No reason really. I don't feel particularly vengeful about my exes. Just serves to get me going sometimes.
And then I had a thought.
It was somewhere during the third consecutive time I listened to Christina Aguilera's Stronger and continued into the two consecutive times I played All American Rejects' "Gives you hell."
The idea? Tell my story.
Not the one I tell here. Where I'm happy but complain about random everyday stuff.
My story story.
The one that could maybe be told on Oprah or Dr. Phil.
I know everyone has one--a Story-- but maybe if I told mine it could help others who haven't faced or dealt with theirs yet.
I was all into it while I was running (and sweating. Note to self: NEVER run in a hooded sweat shirt again!)
I've just recently learned that someone close to me is being bullied. Again. And it got all my hateful juices flowing about guys. You know-the ones who are pigs.
There was a time when I would say "Aren't they all?"
But I know better now.
I married one who isn't.
Oh--he certainly has his moments where I want to karate chop him to the throat (and I'm sure he has his moments with me as well) but NOTHING like I've experienced myself in the past and heard from others close to me that THEY have experienced with others.
And I'm indignant.
I want to stand up and yell to these women and these men.
And maybe...just maybe...if I share some of the Jerry Springer stuff from my own life it will be beneficial to them in some way?
So there I was...mentally fist pumping and crafting my very first self-expose when IT took hold.
That cold sweat, heart palpatation inducing fear that says, "No one wants to read that. Keep your private business PRIVATE."
Or worse...EVERYONE will read and many will respect you less or leave hateful comments.
I've never fully been able to marry those two thoughts together...that by being so public people will sometimes leave less than positive comments. I take that very personally.
So...imagine the fear associated with baring my soul. Telling my most personal, intimate details.
Then there was a new fear...I don't want my family to read or be hurt by anything. God forbid an ex reads somehow and it stirs things up again. I've made the cardinal blogging sin of having family and business associates as readers. There is NO anonymity in THAT!
Will anyone respect me after I tell my tale?
Should I care?
Who am I kidding...of COURSE I care!
But...I am a believer that God makes all things work together for good. And I believe that my story is one of them.
I made a mess of some things. A TOTAL mess.
But He has worked it out for good in so many ways.
So...I'm stewing on it. Trying to work up the courage and downplay the fear. Maybe I'll take it off this site and onto another.
Because another blog is exactly what I have time for. =)
But it could be just the catharsis I need to stop breaking out in red, puss filled sores all over my body.
And maybe it will help me stop using food as a comfort for something that happened so many years ago.