Round about this time last year, I bought a coat.
It was a great coat, and I got it, for the first time in my life, off the rack at a retro store. And it didn't fit.
It nearly fit, and it was nearly enough to spur me onto Disappear until it fit. And I did - I Disappeared from a point of it nearly fitting to a point where it properly did up, and fitted with gaps, so I could even wear sweaters with it.
Since then, it's been Spring, and Summer, and Autumn. And now it's November. Big Coat Weather once again. And two nights ago, I put on the Disappearing Coat again.
And it doesn't fit.
It nearly fits, but it doesn't really fit. And funnily enough, it was inspiring this time too. It was a marker of how far I've drifted during these weird 2012 months, and how much I want to get back to wearing that coat properly.
I'll tell you something odd. The days of no control, and no discipline, the days of secret binging and zero motivation extended from March this year to, essentially, this week. It encompassed the disintegration of the idea of Disappearing, the disintegration of my Dad's health, the disintegration of my will power, and my routine, and my ability to do the things I could do.
And I can't really remember how it felt.
I mean, I know on an intellectual level that all those months happened, and I remember the feeling of helplessness. But it's like viewing a period through a glass if not darkly then at-least-vaguely-greyly. Right now I feel confident and calm and able to do whatever is necessary. I think, come Monday, I'm going to start doing morning swim-gym sessions, like I used to in January and February, those delightful winter months when they were at their most truly miserable. Time to start pulling some weight.
Tonight, did a full hour of biking, and burned 500 calories in a session for the first time in recent history. Felt painful, but good and virtuous. From here we go forward, and downward, until I Disappear back into the Disappearing Coat.
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