47. oh dear

I'm reading this book right now called Women, Food and God that seemed to help some previous pcpers get some insight into their relationship with food and eating and things. And there's this quote in the book that says: "our relationship to food is an exact microcosm of our relationship to life itself." Had you asked me last week if I agreed with this, I would have said no way... my life is in chaos but my relationship to food is good. But if you changed the word food to pcp and asked me today if I agreed, I would say yes, a thousand times yes.

In order to go on, I'm going to have to do something that I haven't done this whole entire six weeks that we've been going down this path: be honest. Transparency requires a courageous honesty that frankly I just don't have in me to provide. I self-censor everything, all the time, for everyone. It's like if I don't tell the whole truth, the weight of the issues won't come crashing down on me. If I can save face and seem like I've got it all together, I won't have to admit that I'll failing miserably. I can say that things are hard because they are hard, or that the diet is going ok and that I like it because it usually is ok and I usually like it, or that I'm getting muscles because I am getting muscles. But to say that I've been slacking and to say that I've just stopped the exercise part for a majority or the last week or that this weekend I barely ate anything I was supposed to, well to say those things, is terrifying and brings me to the dark place that always seems to be hovering a few steps behind me.

Ok, so here goes. My pcp is rapidly becoming at risk for being a failure, just like most of what I've taken on in my life already is. I haven't worked out for five days or six days or four days, I can't really remember. I tried to yesterday but the exercises were too hard, so I quit. This weekend was also shitty for eating. We went to see friends and I packed a cooler with all my food in it, but then I . just . didn't . eat . it. I could blame it on spending all my time with my pregnant friend who has all these crazy cravings. But the fact of the matter is: I didn't say no to the chips and dip. I didn't stop after just a few. I just didn't. I could have. But I didn't.

I don't know if the cheating on the pcp brought on the darkness or the darkness led to the cheating, either way I can't shake this despair that I feel about the project and my life. PCP is a microcosm of life. I make it about half way and then I get distracted or lazy or just let up and the whole thing ends in failure or at least mediocrity. In this case, my attention turned to french onion dip and sitting on my ass. When the going gets hard, Haley gets going, just in the opposite direction. It happens so much it feels like destiny. Americorps job #1, things get hard / I don't feel like I'm making a difference -- think about quitting, cry all the time, end up finishing the year, but stop caring. University #2, science classes get hard -- don't study harder or get extra help, cry a lot, switch major to religion. Religion major, get distracted by millions of possible future plans -- start slacking majorly, lose inquisitiveness, still get ok grades but don't apply for grad school. Future career plans, start a whole bunch of applications and things -- abandon most of them, move home, take menial/boring/easy Americorps job # 2. Americorps job #2, feel like a loser for taking such slack ass, not big, not important, not well paying, not even real job -- don't put in any more effort than possible, don't really care, think about quitting to get interesting job, don't. 1st real job -- don't move away from home, don't apply to jobs outside of Cleveland, apply to many jobs, get two interviews, take first job offered, end up with job that a baby monkey could do (doesn't even require adult monkey skills or mental capacity), loathe self and life. And on and on. Start fail, start abandon, start give up, start fail, repeat ad infinitum. I know it's not, but it feels like a curse, or something in my genes, or something inescapable in my upbringing, or something like that. I know it's not, I'm just lazy and distractible, but damn if I don't wish I could just hunker down and finish something. It doesn't even have to be done spectacularly, just finished. What's wrong with me that there's the huge disconnect between the things that I aspire to and then things I can manage to get done? Where do these road blocks come from?

It's so embarrassing to write all this. To read your blogs and see your progress and read about how you struggle but press on, how you don't give up or cheat. It would have been easier to fade away, like it seems someone does almost every cohort, but I promised myself that I wouldn't do that. I knew from before I ever wrote to Patrick that there was a huge chance that I would be the girl that disappeared, who couldn't hack it. I won't do that, but I'm really not sure where to go from here. Do I start again today, with today's exercises, knowing that I won't be able to do the kung fu sit-ups, that I don't have a place to do the kung fu sit-ups, but with an inclination that I could probably slog through today's exercises and get close to the right number or reps, or do I go back; start from where I left off? And if I press on, what do I do about the things that I cannot do this weeks amount of, like the chest dips? And will I ever be able to move myself more than an inch or so on the chest dips?

I feel like I should be asking for your forgiveness and your permission to come back. I broke the pact that we made to work hard and support each other through this. If it's ok, I'd like to come back, I'd like to try again, and I'd like to be totally honest with you (although I don't know that I can absolutely guarantee that one).

12.5 FAIL

As weird as it sounds, I'm in love with doing the last set to failure. I'm slightly worried that the fact that I can do most of the exercises past the max reps means I'm doing them wrong, but I really like the goal that going towards failure gives me. I thrive on structure and the concreteness of failure really works for me. I had a really spectacular push-up fail where my arms totally gave out and I hit the ground forehead first.

And with the failure -- triumph, I actually moved myself during incline pull-ups!! It wasn't all the way up but it was motion, which is more than I could say when I started with them.