Friday 1 March 2013

The Anniversary Depression

Happy Disappeariversary, one and all...

In other news - meh.
Two years ago today, as I recall, I started on this adventure. In the first year, I lost five and a half stone. In the second year, I basically put between two and a half and three of them back on.
Feels rotten, frankly.

This of course comes on the back of what is now two and a half weeks of being able to do no bloody exercise, thanks to this Labyrinthitis lark. Got back on the bike this morning. Felt pretty much like a sop to my conscience.

Had a St David's Day concert with the choir tonight, though couldn't sing at it, cos not being able to hear anything in one year, and having a kind of pressurised static electricity in the ear in response to loud noises really plays merry hell with your singing.Still got dressed up in the gear though. d inspected me at one point.
"Hmm," she said.
"I know," I agreed. The blazer that's part of the outfit wouldn't...quite...do up. "Something must once more be done, clearly," I said. "Something wants to be done." Time to stop fannying about, evidently, and just get the Hell back on with it. I'm not falling over any more - time to get my walking boots back on. And my gym shorts. And...Stuff...

Something else's been bugging me for a while too. When I didn't get the job at interview this week, everybody said that nevertheless my performance had "raised my profile significantly". The point, really is that I thought it was already pretty high, but clearly I've been deluding myself. And part of me wonders if part of why I don't have the profile I deserve is tied up in people's image of me.

When I was down in the 15 stone zone, I was taking clothes seriously for the first time in years, because I had options, and because things fit me, right off the shelf. Over the last year, I've pretty much drifted back to slovenliness and comfort and the dreaded sweatpants.
What's more, a couple of weeks back, when my pal Sally-Anne was pissed out of her head (in vino veritas?), she said I came across as "a lazy, miserable fucker"...
Now miserable I'm happy with - it's part of my pose as much as anything. But lazy bothered me more thn I ever thought it would. I've always cultivated that impression too (though being called lazy by a woman with one role when I currently have no fewer than seven was an interesting experience). I think I'm coming to an age when I don't particularly want to adhere to the stereotypes I've built for myself, and I think some of them are inherent in my shape and my size.
So, while tomorrow doesn't exactly see another relaunch, it does see another teeth-gritting, up-and-at'em-let's-just-DO-this re-energisation. I'm fed up of being this way...about as fed up as I was two years ago today when I decided to start this whole palaver.

Game well and truly on...

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