Flat, Weight, Journals and Ramblings

Monday, 27 May 2013

So, this weekend I unpacked almost all of my boxes. There are but two left, and a few with things I don’t need often that will be stored in the attic. The books and things make the room much more cosy and home-y. I still have about a day’s worth of work before the papers and desk things are sorted and everything is in its place, but last night I finally had a glimpse of that feeling of ‘this is my own home’. The bedroom-living room-dance-studio does seem a little bare, with all the furniture along the walls and a big space in the middle. I want it like this, however, to have room for dancing. I can always buy another armchair or move the chaise longue more into the centre of the room. And once the weather is warm enough for the radiator to stay cold, the harp can be kept next to it.

I need some floor covering, however, because the wood floor is very easily scratched, and slippery besides. I almost fell once when I tried a pirouette. Wetting my shoes isn’t practicable, either, because the floor might get damaged. A dance floor would be best, marley if possible. But where to get it? I asked Mandy, because the floor at her studio is perfect, and she asked the owner and they said it was some marley from Harlequin, but they didn’t know which kind. Then I looked on the Harlequin website, but they don’t have any prices listed. I would only need 9 square metres, but I am worried about the cost and shipping cost etc. One of these days, I will gather my courage and call them. Asking doesn’t cost anything.

On to weight loss. I haven’t written about it lately with all this moving madness, but I’m still at it. After my big success of reaching double digits by Whitsun, I took a weight loss break for three days while we were in Valais. Well, ok, I overdid it. Knowing I only had three days to eat all I had been longing for for MONTHS, I naturally overate myself. I had so much bread, butter, pizza and cake that I was actually sick of it by the third day, and looking forward to my fat free quark and vegetables. But, while I was motivated to get right back to healthy eating and counting, it was a hard week. My body was asking, no, screaming for the unhealthy things I had given it. I had horrible cravings. They lessened by the third day, and I did NOT give in. Re-losing the weight I had (of course) gained over the weekend was much more frustrating than losing it in the first place. I absolutely need to remember this once I am in maintenance. Losing weight is an adventure at the moment, I am now in pretty much uncharted territory. But if I should let myself gain weight back after losing it, it would just be tedious, hard work, mixed with regret. I only had to do it for a week before I was back down where I started, but it was enough. It utterly ruined my confidence and motivation. I NEVER want to have to re-lose. The thought of gaining weight back really scares me.

But at the moment, I am excited. Somehow, no longer seeing the dreadful 1 before my weight has given me a boost of confidence. Weighing under 100 kg doesn’t seem SO fat, so I feel more normal.  I sat in a swing a few days ago for the first time in months, and it hardly hurt my hips. This astonished me, because I was sure I hadn’t lost much around my hips, but I must have. Before, swinging on those narrow children’s seats had always hurt me dreadfully. It’s one of my favourite things, sitting on a swing, flying through the air, dropping my head back and looking up into the sky, or into a huge tree. Now I can do it again, with no pain! This was a huge and wholly unexpected NSV (Short for Non-scale victory, a term from a weight loss message board). Another one is my winter coat. I’m still wearing it because the weather is dreadfully cold and wet for May here. At Christmas, I coud just button it, but it was a little tight across the hips and stomach. Now it hangs off me, the sleeves are too long and it comes almost to my knees! My new trousers I bought in March are falling down, although I already altered them a month ago to make them smaller. I am now as heavy as I was at fourteen, when I gained a lot because the boys were bullying me and I discovered that I could actually go out and buy my own food. That was around the time I tried my first diet, some meal replacement thing. Of course, I started cheating very soon because I couldn’t stand the feeling of deprivation. But well… all those hard times have helped me define what I want, have made me who I am today, and I am actually pretty happy, so it’s ok.

My body has changed. My face looks much prettier, with large eyes, and I’m getting a pointy chin like my sister! Hands and feet look more normal and delicate (although my feet are far from delicate, unfortunately), and I LOVE my collarbones. But the rest of me… My fat parts are less fat, but much flabbier. I used to be more compact, and now everything – hangs. It isn’t very noticeable in clothes, but well… I’m embarrassed. I know I’m young and once I lose more fat, the skin will tighten up and everything will look better. I’m just in a very ugly in-between state. But I’m worried that once I reach my “jumping weight” and start to practice jumps, everything will jiggle horribly.  Can you do ballet in compression clothes?

Thursday, today

Last night, I opened the little box containing all my old journals. Even just looking at the different books, some locked, some sealed with string and sealing wax, some open, made me remember those days when they were written. I remember starting my first real journal, at fifteen. But that volume is full of strong emotions and confused thoughts, and I didn’t want to revisit those at the moment. I took out one thin brown book that I remembered writing in one glorious summer morning in a garden in France, with pen and rose ink. Opening it, I forgot time and read the whole book, from the beginning when I was sixteen, throught several month-long silences, crises and events, to its end two years later. Some things that happened during that time and that seem important, life-changing events now, I hardly mentioned at all. Others I had completely forgotten until I read about them again. Groans of shame, pitying smiles and a few tears for my young self escaped me. A few passages brought back priceless memories, others bored me half to death. But one thing made me a little sad. I had written that I wanted to be a good person, not selfish, and help others. I know I was sincere then, even though I was in my Christian forget-yourself phase.  I have changed a lot, and I’m much happier with myself now. But what have I become? I’m so selfish I begrudge others even five minutes of my precious time, and every gift I buy makes me think: This could be a ballet class for me. I really don’t like this about myself. I wish I could be more generous, but I can’t force myself to feel that way, can I?

Even when I write here, every ‘I’ I type seems to say: you’re so selfish. It’s all about me, me, me. Part of me is ashamed and wants it to change, but the bigger part of me LIKES it. It’s fun being alive and experiencing things and thinking and feeling and processing all those things here, with other people being around in my life, but not too close. If I had to write about others, or about one certain topic, I wouldn’t write. And I don’t want to go back to eighteen-year-old me and try to squeeze my square self into a round mould, with much pain, just because I like the round shape better. I have to be who I am, and if I am selfish at the moment, I have to try and accept it or ignore it. I have been neglecting myself for a long time, my true inner self. Now I’m catching up. Mrs. H calls it individuation. Finding myself, accepting and loving myself, expressing myself, moving out, learning to remain ‘with’ myself even around other people, emerging from my armour of fat. It seems to me that this phase is good and necessary, but I hope it’s temporary. I hope one day I’ll have done enough ‘catching up’ and can actually enjoy being there for others as well.

Reading my old journal has given me an idea: I’m going to share certain entries here and make a ‘diary day’ (like Sheila from The Sheila Variations, although my diaries are not so funny). I’ll first have to read all the old journals, and I can’t write one every week or I’ll run out of material fast.

Ok, I’m going to publish this novel of a post. There will be more pictures of the flat later, because I first have to take some.

About annalienor

Lover of beauty, adult ballet student, deliberate creator wannabe.
This entry was posted in Ballet, Health, Interior Design, Moment, My Flat and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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