Things are getting better on the paranoia front. I’m not constantly peering out the back door — only once in awhile — and I don’t jump every time I hear a noise outside. Maybe every other time. Then again, I already had PTSD.
Anyway, it’s a process.
But the anxiety has made me start working out.
I’m down to a size 14 (size 16 pants were getting uncomfortable — and that was before I gained 5 pounds back in April). I’m down about 10 pounds on the scale (again, not including the five pounds from April) and I’ve put on some muscle weight.
At my skinniest, I was about a size 8-10, but that’s not really a realistic or healthy goal. So I’m just going to be happy with where I’m at on the scale/clothing size chart, and work towards a size 12.
It’ll be better for my overall health and better once I’m able to make it past the first trimester. As a heavier gal, I worry about gestational diabetes, blood pressure and all that.
So I guess unrealistic, overwhelming fear does have some benefits. And finding a healthy way to cope with that fear pays off.
Now I just have to stop checking out the back door at night. Process, people. Process.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Congrats on the weight loss! As for checking out the back door at night, I don't see a problem with that. I live alone and have a touch of hypervigilance myself. You could turn it into a "last thing to do before I go to bed" ritual.
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Abigail Reply:
August 12th, 2012 at 5:12 pm
Catseye: It's more than I was checking it every 20 minutes or so. Nowadays, it's more like once every couple of hours. So it's progress.
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Abigail Reply:
August 12th, 2012 at 5:12 pm
Catseye: It's more than I was checking it every 20 minutes or so. Nowadays, it's more like once every couple of hours. So it's progress.
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I'm with the previous poster. I check the doors a couple of times a day – it's part of my routine before I go to bed, and before I leave the house for the day.
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That should have said Ro in San Diego…
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