There is so much I want to write about.
My new flat!
I’m so happy about this flat, I still can’t really believe it. There is this constant joy in the back of my mind, and sometimes I wonder ‘what am I so happy about?’, and then I remember, and every time the joy is just exquisite! It doesn’t grow stale like other joys. Last Saturday, I went to IKEA and looked at EVERYTHING. For years, places like IKEA and furniture and kitchen supply shops have been a bittersweet delight. I was always planning, picking things in my mind and trying to imagine how nice it would be to be able to shop for my own place. And now I can! It’s a wholly new experience walking through a shop now. But ‘with great power comes great responsibility’: I have to find a style and stick to it. The problem is, I don’t have a style. One day I will be in love with all white rooms or cool colours, the next with dark and rich ones. One day sleek and modern, the next cosy and feminine. Small things make me fall in love with certain styles: a picture, an atmosphere or an association. Then I think ‘I want this! This is the one!’ But I’m not sure how long it will last. At the moment I’m imagining white or cream furniture, lots of mirrors and glass, and a transparent chair. But it’s spring. Maybe in autumn dark wood and carpets will seem more cosy. Oh dear… I think what I will do is just move in, with my beloved bed and my old things, and get a feeling for the flat, the space, the light, and then decide. I can’t afford to buy new things every year.
The days are longer. There have been a few of those lovely clear twilights with twinkling stars and green or blue early spring skies. The weather is still cold, but I can hear blackbirds and doves in the morning. It just feels… different. Spring-y. I love early spring with its subtle quiet beauty, before all the leaves and the flowers and the warm sunshine are here. As always, I get into a similar mood to last spring. This usually happens to me. With a new season, something reminds me of the previous year and I catch myself thinking about and being interested in things I did then. At the moment, I am thinking a lot about Lucy Maud Montgomery’s books, especially the Emily series. It starts in spring, and I have always associated it with spring somehow. I also really crave riding a bike. I’m just a little scared of riding in traffic. But maybe I’ll try to repair my old bike and use it to go shopping or so, once I have moved. I’m also feeling a little ‘elvish’. Sort of dreamy, old and young at the same time, and as if I was living in slow motion.
As happy as I am to get my own flat, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad last week about leaving home. Yes, I’m only moving 2 kilometres away. But it still feels like a loss. My room, especially. When I leave, I’ll take my bed and headboard, all my books, my lamp, my boxes. It won’t be the same. I will have to leave my balcony with my view of the sky and trees, especially ‘my’ hornbeam. I’m sure I’m the only one who really loved this tree. Of course, I can always visit. But it won’t be the same. My sisters are already planning, half jokingly, to always have meals I hate (mushroom risotto, pasta with gorgonzola sauce) and Sissy said she wants to have ‘all the power’ once I’m gone. It hurts a little, it makes me feel excluded. Dinah is glad that I’m leaving, too. But she is still very hostile towards me, always closing the doors, moping about at the table if I am home for meals, making mean little remarks. It was a little better this weekend, but yesterday she was back in her (by now) usual mood. My sisters laugh at me for using a whey protein shake because they think it’s cheating and artificial and whatnot. Dinah especially has started associating the shake and the shaker with me and me with ‘bad’, so now she practically has a fit every time I fill my shaker for the next day, saying she can smell the powder from the other end of the flat, and that the smell sticks to me. As a consequence there are more closed doors. Oh, and according to her I’m also not allowed to use scented body butter or perfume because she doesn’t want to smell it. It is getting more and more ridiculous! I already know she won’t like my visits once I’m gone. And I won’t like visiting because of the suffocating atmosphere. I have tried to ignore her or ‘push back’, and I keep trying. But it is exhausting and stressful and very uncomfortable. I want to be able to come home for Sunday breakfasts, to be welcomed by my family and exchange all the latest gossip and happenings, to cuddle Tippy and laugh with my sisters and feel relaxed and loved (or at least accepted). My fear is that once I am gone, Dinah will be less used to me and therefore have a greater negative reaction towards me. Maybe she will notice when I lose weight and it will annoy her. I’m afraid I will literally be kept out of the house and out of the family by her passive aggressive behaviour.
There is nothing more I can do about it, so I should just focus on moving out first. Maybe she will relax. And if not, it isn’t my fault.
I’m still losing weight. I’ve lost 20% of my starting weight by now. My next goal is a BMI under 40. My next big goal is to make it to double digits by Whitsun. For some weeks now, I have lowered my calories by not eating dinner during the week. It saves me a lot of time, too. After class, I have my whey shake with fat free milk and a piece of fruit, and then I go home and shower and pack for the next day. Before, I had to prepare my small dinner and then eat it, and I didn’t always get enough sleep. Now, even if I’m a little hungry, it is much easier. No more dealing with cravings after dinner, no more figuring out what to eat. I just know I can’t have anything, so it’s simple. Despite this new habit (yes, it’s already become a habit), I haven’t lost much weight in the last few weeks. I must admit I haven’t used the stationary bike much, nor the kettlebell. Ballet classes are much more fun! Maybe that’s the reason. I don’t know. But I noticed that while it certainly isn’t motivating, I’m sticking to my plan. I am much stronger than before, in that I can just be stubborn and continue without constant motivation. I know there is no other way. I don’t want to stop, and I don’t want to go back. All I hope is that once I am living on my own I won’t suddenly feel like I did in Lausanne and not care about weight loss anymore…