Things have been… rather good. I have made progress in managing my emotions and behaviour. It still feels very fresh and strange, but it’s noticeable. I’m growing.
I managed not to overeat or binge last weekend. This is a huge thing for me, as I have been switching between strict dieting and overeating, motivation and frustration for a long time now. I finally reached a shape and weight I thought just ‘ok’ and then decided to increase my calories, but nevertheless had a lapse on Halloween and the following day. This threw me back physically and emotionally, but I managed to learn from it. I took a step back and did NOT fall into the same trap last weekend. I ate maintenance amounts or maybe a little more, and there were a few very close shave moments, but I made it! It would have been nice to be rewarded with no weight gain on Monday, but the scale was not nice to me. I know I can’t have gained fat, because I didn’t overeat, so it must have been a combination of eating more salt, sugar and food overall, plus maybe hormones or the heavy strength and running workouts I did. Nevertheless, the scale showed the same number as on the Monday following two binge eating episodes, so I was frustrated. It helped to concentrate on the success of what I did: Eat more, eat ‘binge food’ but in normal amounts and managing the urges and cravings. I realised that I have fallen into a disordered form of eating, where certain ‘bad’ foods made me nervous, so I either totally avoided them or binged on them. This needs to change! And I’m working on it. Dieting really does mess up your relationship with food! I’m back to ‘ok’ weight today now and will continue on my path. Slow and steady.
The same applies to the rest of my life, for example at work and in ballet. I have extremely high expectations and want to be perfect, but fear negative judgement and utter failure. That is the problem. The goal is to find an ‘ok’ in this respect, too, a point at which I can rest and accept myself and slowly improve from there. I still fluctuated between highs and lows, but managed to bring myself into balance again, to take a step back and observe what is happening and put it into perspective. Overall, this made me feel much less at the mercy of my own thoughts and emotions, less afraid of everything. It gives me a certain control over how I feel. It’s freeing.
Tom and I haven’t met for two weeks. We still write a few messages every day. I still think of him often. And I have decided to let myself go a little, to allow daydreams simply because they are enjoyable. If things don’t happen that way, it will maybe hurt as if I had lost something I never had, just because of the daydreams. But somehow I accept that and think I could handle it. I’m also strangely confident that things will happen. We will meet tonight. I can’t imagine his face in detail anymore, it’s been too long.
He wrote last week that he was sorry we couldn’t meet, and that I had met him ‘at a strange time in his life.’ This semester is the busiest he has ever had and he has practically no time for himself. I understand that and didn’t feel hurt anymore. At first, I only wrote that it was ok. But I felt more than that, both negative and positive, and didn’t want to keep things bottled up or keep him in the dark. So I told him that I regretted not seeing him, but didn’t want to add to his stress. And that I was glad I’d met him, even at a strange time, and wasn’t going anywhere. He replied that he was really glad to have met me, too.
And he said that while he loved his studies and found them interesting, there was more to life than University, nice things like seeing me, for example.
So yes, I feel quietly hopeful. We like each other. He feels at ease with me. We’re getting to know each other. Maybe this forced slow pace is perfect. I’m growing and changing rapidly right now. Maybe I can become a better person, or both of us can, so we will be happier (together)? Who knows. It’s a nice thought.
A new and very nice daydream is this: On his 30th birthday, which is in less than two weeks, I will ask to see him for a moment after my work and his lectures, and I will go to his University building (a nice old villa that sparked my imagination when I used to walk past it during my school days) and take him somewhere private and tell him I wanted to give him something for his birthday. A kiss. My first kiss. If he wants it. (By then, we have spoken about past relationships and I have either told him I have been single for years or the whole truth.) Of course in my daydreams, everything works wonderfully: he is not shocked or put off, but delighted, and we share a wonderful kiss. But let’s face it: now that I’ve spelled it out, I realise I probably won’t have the courage. Not without a sign from him that he is attracted to me.
Oh, I’m suddenly nervous!