I haven’t written for ages. There have been many things I wanted to write about, but I didn’t. So, here are some news:
Home and Family
I didn’t go home last weekend. Mam came for a visit on Sunday and I proudly served her some coffee from my new Nespresso machine. We talked for a long time, but I couldn’t say what I really wanted. Somehow, she changed the subject all the time. The others didn’t come, they said it was too stressful, getting dressed and everything and coming for a visit. I understand, I would have felt the same. It’s like having to visit your grandmother when you don’t feel like it. It’s very annoying that I can’t just drop in with them when I feel like it. I have to announce my visit days in advance, and apparently Dinah gets extremely nervous. The last time I was home, on Dad’s birthday, Dinah didn’t come down either. I had a great talk with Sissy, however, about the things I wrote in my last post. She told me that she was feeling a lot better about it after that talk. But the Dinah thing is driving me crazy, sometimes. It felt so weird going home last weekend only to take the things I wanted out of the letterbox, where Sissy had put them. I would have liked to go in for a drink and a chat, but no… It’s just stupid. And it won’t improve when I lose more weight. And I miss Tippy terribly. Hurry on, Dinah, get over this…
My own Home
I really feel at home in my flat now. I love my neighbourhood with its air of calm prosperity, old townhouses and villas, pretty gardens and now in Summer, lots of people. Everybody seems to be outside talking, playing games or just walking along my street. There are lots of children and cats. I’d love to have a cat of my own! They’re my favourite favourite animals. Also, if cats could do ballet, I wouldn’t hesitate to become a cat right now. Provided I could.
Kelly, my bike, has been repaired so far as to be rideable. It’s clean and the brakes work, but there is only one gear and the light is still broken. And something squeaks. I ride it to and from the tram station, slowly and on the pavement because I don’t have a helmet. It’s fun, though, and saves me a few minutes when I come home at night. During the holidays (which start tomorrow!) I will try to get the gears to work. There should be three.
I was back to being fully motivated and ready to move on with losing weight. Until this weekend, everything went well, I was losing steadily and starting to feel thin again. The weeks before, I had been feeling fat, because I was kind of getting used to being this size. It’s very weird! Sometimes, I feel as fat or fatter than I felt at 290 pounds, the weight I had for years. I can look in the mirror and see NO difference! My brain is playing tricks on me, I think. It happened in class last week, and suddenly all my confidence left me. I was like a balloon with a leak – pffffffff – empty. This weekend, I noticed intense cravings, but I fought and fought and didn’t give in to them, eating more vegetables and drinking rivers of water and lemonade to fill myself up. But the last few days have been bad, I had a binge every day. I am sure now that these phases are hormone-related. About every month, it starts with feeling a little listless, then there are these cravings that sometimes end in binges, and a sort of depression or emptiness. All the things I normally like or even love have no meaning anymore. All I want to do is eat and sleep and maybe read an undemanding book. I feel overwhelmed by work and can’t stand being around my co-workers. This time, I didn’t skip ballet class at least, but I often felt like it. It isn’t the same every time, sometimes it’s worse, like that time in January, and sometimes all I notice are some cravings and a little melancholy. I wish it would stop. I wish I wasn’t so utterly helpless when it comes. I gained back half the weight I lost last week, three pounds.
Needless to say, I was quite bad last week. I got some praise, but I FELT heavy and weak and ugly and uninspired. Next week is the summer course I have been wanting to attend. The one I took last year. The same teacher, same level, same time. It’s just a week, five classes. In my current mood, I don’t feel like going, but I will. I want to show the teacher my improvement. She encouraged me last year. I hope she recognises me. It’s strange: Last year I weighed 290 lbs and had much worse technique. Now I weigh over 80 pounds less and have made lots of progress. More strength, better alignment, upper body, extensions and turns, but I feel more self-conscious about going into a roomful of strange dancers and moving my body. I had less ambition then. I knew the class was a little above me, but I took it as a challenge, because I wanted to learn something new. I went with the intention of trying to do my best. Now however, I expect myself to do well, to do everything as perfectly as possible. I compare myself to the others and feel bad if I’m worse than they. I wonder how this will develop when I get to a normal size. When I am no longer the fat girl who dances better than you would expect, but just one of many people dancing… I need to develop a new identity for myself in ballet. Sigh. More work ahead.