At the start of this year I set myself some goals for 2008. Nothing major. Didn't write them down. Just from some conversations I had with me, myself & I.
1. Quit smoking ~ the reasons for this are obvious.
2. Be good to myself ~ after all the shit I've been through with depression & agoraphobia, I think this one is really important, plus I deserve it after having the fucking life sucked out of me by AH.
3. Lose the niggly 5-6 kgs that still remains ~ I've never been huge, not in my genetic make-up I think. But since starting my current medication I put on about 8 kgs, and I was already about 3 or so over what I deem my "ideal weight". I am also not a dieter, so my plan to do this was just basics....eat better & exercise more.....well just exercise....saying 'more' implies I already do some lol.....aparrently housework doesn't count!
So I start the first 4 weeks of 2008 ignoring all of the above. Smoking heavier than ever, going out & drinking & eating too much, gorging myself on chocolate & ice cream & sour cream mmmmmm sour cream...... Sleeping in, watching movies, no exercise....unless you count my drunken stagger all over the Rocks & down George St with my sis on Australia Day, or me dancing like a lunatic with N at 2am in a seedy Parramatta club.....but I think my inability to move for 48 hours after these events negated any good it might have done.....and I digress....
So we move into week 5 and I get sick........ Thank god the kids were with the AH cos I don't even think I could have mustered the strength to throw a packet of Twisties in their general direction..... If I had had the strength I would have moved my bed next to the toilet, cos dammit it's a long walk when your dehydrated with a jackhammer going in your head and you are trying desperately not to leave a trail of spew & ...well we won't go there....all the way up the hallway and through the kitchen........ at one stage I did take a snooze on the floor of the office......I just couldn't manage the walk.......I've never known cold white hard tiles to be so comforting.....or was I dreaming that...
After 48 hours I was OK.
Then I got a sore throat....then a cold.....then all I could do was sleep....and sip fluids.....and sleep....and sweat.....and freeze......and sleep....and shake.......and freeze.......and well you get the picture. Then it hurt to breathe......then the cough came.....and then my arms ached...then my legs.....then my head....then my back......and my pulse was constantly over 100....which I couldn't work out as I was too sick to be anxious.....
When I couldn't shake it off after 4/5 days I dragged my arse to the dr....who seems to automatically assume it's my depression.....who was quite shocked that Yes! I Was Actually Sick! I have/had Acute Bronchitis with an infection somewhere.....I forgot exactly where now....so I'm on Anti-biotics (ugh!) and am starting to feel human again.....but I'm now coughing a LOT more, which makes me almost pass out!
So where was I going with this......oh that is right.....I stepped on the scales yesterday and I have lost 4.5 of those pesky kilos!!!!!
I need to get sick more often.......or not!
It has also reinforced the need to quit the fags. During all this I was still able to smoke, it didn't hurt (except that first night with the sore throat), it didn't irritate my lungs or start me coughing, which actually scares me more than if it had.
Oh and I was good & looked after me. (Kinda didn't have a choice, but it still counts right?)
2 outta 3 aint bad!