Well, another day and I’ve not updated my points on here or gone to the gym. I am recording them, honest. Well, I do need to add tonight’s. But for the gym I do have a reason – I had an appointment with my counsellor this evening. I did have one good thing – we eschewed the yummy Korean buffet we like and went instead with a simple hamburger (this week…next week we may yet Il Mee ourselves). But still…I managed to have onion rings which are loaded with fat.
I need to be more honest with myself. I need to say “okay, I’m going to pick living less and leaving C alone by having the onion rings.” My counsellor and I did more work on my masses of self-pity, self-delusion, and self-BS. I BS a lot, he thinks. And I tend to agree with him. What he said was my need/habit/addiction to overeating has to justify itself, I can’t just say “wow, I want to die early” so I make up “poor me” statements.
“Poor me, if I don’t have the onion rings I’ll never have onion rings again.”
“Poor me, if I don’t have pretzels or cake I’ll be deprived of them and that would be terrible.”
“Poor me, my mum/dad/brother/boss/coworker/random stranger/you, there, in blog land were mean to me or I can portray you as mean to me, so I deserve the cake or pretzels or danish.”
(Who knew there were so many darn points in danish pastry?)
One thing which struck me was when I said “so I have to make healthy choices for the rest of my life?” and he called me on the underlying BS – he said “no, you don’t have to. You don’t have to live healthy or long. So you don’t get to feel sorry for yourself if you decide to eat healthy.”
When self-pity and resentment are habits, they’re hard to break.
A Data Analysis
Here are the likely consequences of legalizing gay marriage:
Clearly society needs to think long and hard about this ‘gathering storm.’ (Tune in very soon for my analysis of the stupid anti-gay commercial and the clever spoofs. Try to hold your breath and not go too frantic with antici…
Back to Triumph
If Roman Šebrle here can triumph over having a javelin thrown into his shoulder, surely I can triumph over my own self-pity and desire to avoid the gym. I mean, where else in life can I be sweaty and not feel like I don’t belong, or enjoy watching fairly skilled athletes work?
(Not a lewd comment for today – just hope one day to feel as good as he seems to feel)