Don't know what got me.
Since last Tuesday, I've been rather sick.
Enough so, that I've seen a slight decline in the weight I put on after the 3 months of lying around like a bloated manatee from the whole ankle 'thing'.
Virus? Food from a foreign country? Parasite from the water?
The sick part of my brain, that good old Anorexia Monster, is telling me this is great, because I'll get back to feeling my normal weight!
But the healthy person in me would rather eat better and exercise to take it off the right way.
However, up until yesterday, every time I tried to move was an immediate invitation to run as quickly as possible to the bathroom.
My phone has been glued to my hands. You don't want to be stuck in there for half an hour with no puzzles to play. Ya know?
Yesterday, I just stared out at our beautiful yard we are fortunate to have and fell into an anxiety attack like I haven't had in a long time.
Looking outside. Stuck near the washroom. Feeling so weak.
Frozen, because the anxiety had immobilized me.
Like I said before, I am NOT good at staying dormant.
Today I feel a little more strength.
I feasted on an entire bag of Dorito's throughout the day yesterday, minus the scant amount I shared with Papi.
That and all the lime juice I could drink.
For the tail end of the ankle 'thing', I watched to the end of Breaking Bad.
For this stomach 'thing' that got me, I've started on The Walking Dead.
Never really been a fan of zombies, because they don't scare me.
It's reality that scares me.
Yet, everyone seems to like the show, so I thought I'd give it a whirl. Love it!
Anyway.
I go back to Dream Project tomorrow. In the next 2 weeks we'll be driving the children full speed toward a performance at the DR Jazz Festival.
They're pumped!
I'll just fill myself with plenty more Pepto to make it through my 4 hours of teaching.
MusicMan told me that he'd be asking the BigWigs for my gas allowance.
I was so grateful that he said that on his own accord.
I wasn't going to ask anymore, but he brought it up, so I feel a little like he really is happy with me being there helping with the kids.
He got a real kick out of me telling him the story about how I thought he no longer had a job there.
Funny enough that he decided to tell more people the silly story.
Oh, how I make a name for myself everywhere I go.
Now I'll be the silly gringa at the school.
Which is OK. I know who I am.
I've really have nothing more to prove to anyone.
I'm just spinny Andréa, and it makes me a much more approachable person when people know that, and we all know I just want to be loved.
I remember being the Andréa that had a permanent cloud of doom hanging over my head.
I'm just grateful I can laugh at myself and not take myself too seriously anymore.
I have meds to thank for that.
I'm looking out at the ocean today.
I'm sitting at the table, instead of the La-Z-Boy, my favourite tool of the Pit of Doom.
My ankle doesn't hurt from sitting in an upright chair anymore.
The ocean doesn't sound like white noise when you're actually watching the white caps crash against the shore.
It's beautiful.
I am strong enough to walk to that ocean now.
Perhaps today I'll allow the feeling of that gorgeous salt water to wash me clean of these past 3 months of stagnancy.
Move.
With the waves.
Ebb and flow.
Since last Tuesday, I've been rather sick.
Enough so, that I've seen a slight decline in the weight I put on after the 3 months of lying around like a bloated manatee from the whole ankle 'thing'.
Virus? Food from a foreign country? Parasite from the water?
The sick part of my brain, that good old Anorexia Monster, is telling me this is great, because I'll get back to feeling my normal weight!
But the healthy person in me would rather eat better and exercise to take it off the right way.
However, up until yesterday, every time I tried to move was an immediate invitation to run as quickly as possible to the bathroom.
My phone has been glued to my hands. You don't want to be stuck in there for half an hour with no puzzles to play. Ya know?
Yesterday, I just stared out at our beautiful yard we are fortunate to have and fell into an anxiety attack like I haven't had in a long time.
Looking outside. Stuck near the washroom. Feeling so weak.
Frozen, because the anxiety had immobilized me.
Like I said before, I am NOT good at staying dormant.
Today I feel a little more strength.
I feasted on an entire bag of Dorito's throughout the day yesterday, minus the scant amount I shared with Papi.
That and all the lime juice I could drink.
For the tail end of the ankle 'thing', I watched to the end of Breaking Bad.
For this stomach 'thing' that got me, I've started on The Walking Dead.
Never really been a fan of zombies, because they don't scare me.
It's reality that scares me.
Yet, everyone seems to like the show, so I thought I'd give it a whirl. Love it!
Anyway.
I go back to Dream Project tomorrow. In the next 2 weeks we'll be driving the children full speed toward a performance at the DR Jazz Festival.
They're pumped!
I'll just fill myself with plenty more Pepto to make it through my 4 hours of teaching.
MusicMan told me that he'd be asking the BigWigs for my gas allowance.
I was so grateful that he said that on his own accord.
I wasn't going to ask anymore, but he brought it up, so I feel a little like he really is happy with me being there helping with the kids.
He got a real kick out of me telling him the story about how I thought he no longer had a job there.
Funny enough that he decided to tell more people the silly story.
Oh, how I make a name for myself everywhere I go.
Now I'll be the silly gringa at the school.
Which is OK. I know who I am.
I've really have nothing more to prove to anyone.
I'm just spinny Andréa, and it makes me a much more approachable person when people know that, and we all know I just want to be loved.
I remember being the Andréa that had a permanent cloud of doom hanging over my head.
I'm just grateful I can laugh at myself and not take myself too seriously anymore.
I have meds to thank for that.
I'm looking out at the ocean today.
I'm sitting at the table, instead of the La-Z-Boy, my favourite tool of the Pit of Doom.
My ankle doesn't hurt from sitting in an upright chair anymore.
The ocean doesn't sound like white noise when you're actually watching the white caps crash against the shore.
It's beautiful.
I am strong enough to walk to that ocean now.
Perhaps today I'll allow the feeling of that gorgeous salt water to wash me clean of these past 3 months of stagnancy.
Move.
With the waves.
Ebb and flow.
i am willing to change my eating habits and i do so easily
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