Recent developments in my life have forced me to change somewhat to prevent bad stuff from happening to me physically. I'm 60-or-so pounds above the ideal weight for my height, and at risk for diabetes.
To alter that, I've started eating oats, reducing my beef and pork intake, and I've signed up at a gym again in an attempt to lose weight. This is nice and all, but it's actually quite tiring for me.
You know that feeling you get when you do something bad or immoral or whatever, that nagging feeling clawing at you in the form of guilt or some other emotion? I get that a lot now. I haven't done anything immoral or ethically bad, but I feel like I'm a bad person somehow. It's probably because I view this whole change business as a punishment when I should probably view it as an opportunity , but still.
The funny thing about this post is that I can mentally ascertain what the hell I'm doing, and right now, in my mind I'm trying to rationalize everything to make myself feel like a victim or something to gain sympathy from other people, and I find myself horribly unnerved that I can now realize something like that and tell myself that I'm doing something weird. A year ago, I wouldn't have noticed, and at the same time, even if I would have noticed, I would have praised myself for noticing that a year ago and still justified myself. Now, I feel bad about it, because I'm manipulating my own mind and the minds of people who read this ad have an opinion of me. for the sake of saving my ego from pain.
What I wanted to say (in the justification that was going through my head) was that I feel I am a good person who does good things for people, and yet I'm being "punished" by God (via genetics) as if I'm a shitty excuse for a person. And yet, I should know better than that. That this is also partly my responsibility since I'm the one who chooses what I eat. I may not smoke and drink but, apparently, fattening food is my vice and, coupled with my genes, it makes for a horrible combination.
I am here where I am now because of choices and circumstance, and only a combination of both can get me out of it. I'll accept the oats and milk, and I'll accept the blood sugar pinprick tests thrice a day, and I'll probably even accept (perhaps dread as well), the possibility that I'll lose my way and not lose weight again....
But goodness me, I really wish I could afford to skip gym sometimes. It really hurts to do those resistance exercises.
Current Mood: 
contemplative
a bit grossed out by my mind
Doesn't it?