… and not in the good way. (Yes, I had to, sorry, not sorry.)
Well you might remember my post about excuses and my realization that I’m making them. I still do and more than ever, I think. I have completely dropped off the horse. And I am not actually giving myself reasons, so am I really making excuses? In any way… I have not put anything in my food diary. I have given a damn how much I eat and what and that’s awful. Have I given up?
I hope not, because I have a long way to go and I can’t just give up. I have always been a fighter and I still am. So why does it feel so tempting to just not give a f…fudgesickle? Maybe because it’s easier than to restrain myself and work for it?
Could anyone please move to Berlin and drag myself out on the streets for at least 15 minutes a day so I can at least complain about hurting muscles as a reason not to go out? I have to do something, but I just can’t be arsed. Depression makes it harder and this is not an excuse, it’s actually a fact. I’m having a hard time, but try to ignore it. Just doesn’t make things easier.
I have to give a damn. I have to get back up. I feel the mountain is too big to climb, maybe I’ll start with the first alpine hut instead of the mountain top. No too far… maybe the door of the flat for starters. Then the end of the hallway. Then to the staircase… babysteps. Maybe that’s less overwhelming and scary.
For a long time I have made excuses for many things without even noticing I made them. It began as truthful explanations like that I couldn’t do something because it caused me big pain. It is still true but many times I use it to not even try.
It’s comfortable to have the right reason for not doing something. Because I know the pain that will come when I walk for 2 minutes I don’t even start. Because I think I will fall from the horse I stopped getting up on it’s back.
Two days ago I started writing down my food again. Day 1 went well. Today I went over a little and because of that my mind went all “well now I’m over anyway so I can eat more.” and I did… Another excuse.
It would be so easy just to blame something else. Genetics, other people, medicine, society, sickness, depression…
Don’t get me wrong. Everything in this list is a valid reason.
But many times it is so much easier to use one of those reasons as an excuse instead of admitting that we fucked up. Which to be honest is really shitty for the times when these reasons are really the reason why things went wrong.
So today I’m standing (who am I kidding, I’m laying in bed) here and say that thing that hurts. The truth. I’m using excuses because I’m scared that if I try, I’ll fail. And not doing something because of fear of failing doesn’t give a damn that it causes auto-fail. It’s illogical like that.
So what to do next? Stop making excuses? Let’s be real. This shit is harder to beat than Muhammad Ali. To be honest, I have no clue. I’m stuck and haven’t the foggiest how to get out. No clue, no control, no anything. So all that is left is keep trying, I guess.