I haven’t been blogging much here or anywhere else for that matter, but it’s only because I’ve been living a lot. With more appointments than ever (and more coming) to keep up with, I have been adjusting. I’m thinking that I’m finally settled in for the time being.

My husband and I are just back from a lovely trip into South Australia, and I feel like I have a new breath of air in my lungs. After what 2011 put me and The Bloke through, it was wonderful to be able to get away and enjoy.

The Bloke has been able to enjoy a lot of things lately, including a well deserved “I told you so.”

As I mentioned in Back to Square One, I bought a notebook to start tracking things again. Mainly, my food. The Bloke has suggested a food diary a few times now, only to be met with snarls from my end.

I hate keeping food diaries.

But I have been. And the results have been… enlightening.

As much as I hate the process, the food diary has helped me address a lot of key issues. The act of having a food diary has helped me with mindful eating. Just having to take the moment before I eat something has helped me to become aware of not only what I’m putting in my mouth but why I’m putting it in my mouth.

I also used to have a tendency to eat every meal like it was my last. Keeping the diary has taught me to look ahead a bit and get my mind used to regarding each meal as one of many to come. This, in turn, has helped me to eat smaller deals.

After I’d kept the diary for a week or so, I began to get curious about calories. It turns out that I’m doing a decent job, but there were some things that were hitting me for more calories than I realised. My favourite chai latte? Over 200 calories – and that’s just for a regular. That ‘every once in a while’ splurge for a fast food wrap? Over 500 calories and it’s not even that filling.

I must confess that I had gotten into a headspace of feeling like I didn’t need to learn anymore. That it was something wrong with my body. While I was right in regards to my body – and am feeling a bit more energy since I started taking iron – I was wrong in thinking that I could sit back and stop learning.

Even if it involves doing something that annoys me.

Though I must confess, it’s not nearly as annoying as it used to be…

But don’t tell The Bloke. He’ll just say, “I told you so.”
(Just kidding. He’s not like that.)

While it hasn’t been as long as I thought since I last posted, it has certainly been a while.

Problems started around mid-month when I started getting exhausted with the half an hour of exercise every morning. Given it was gentle exercise, I became quite depressed and got a first class ticket on the ‘what’s wrong with me’ train.

After a few frustrating appointments, a few frustrating doctors and some blood tests, I’m back on the right track.

As it turns out, I’m skirting but still not stepping into diabetes territory – thank goodness. My vitamin D is low (which doesn’t surprise me, seeing as I skipped supplements for a while before the test to make sure I got a real reading). And, for the first time in my life, my iron is low, which is likely the cause of my exhaustion.

I’ve finally gotten started with the local program that will get me on my feet in all ways. There are classes about pain management (yay aching knees and ankles thanks to weight), stress management groups, a dietician and even some gym time for me. Not to mention a new psychologist who covered a heap of things in the first session. I also managed to find a good GP that doesn’t buy into BMI, understands that PCOS is a real condition and who puts an emphasis on balanced eating.

For so long I have struggled, tripped, gotten up again just to trip later down the line. Always I have wondered what was wrong with me that I couldn’t just keep going. As it turns out, my GP slapped me across the face with it:

“You can’t keep doing this alone.”

While I have never been truly alone, it occurs to me now (in a ‘duh’ kind of moment) that I haven’t set up a proper ‘team’ for myself in the past. Not only friends who know what I’m going through but the kind of professional sort I need. Partly, I must admit, because I’m not all that keen on taking care of myself and have always seen getting all that support as playing into the victim mentality. But now I see that it’s not wrong to need a lot of hands to hold.

Today I’m back to square one, but I don’t mind being here. I started with exercise, I’m starting up the supplements, I got a new hair cut to make me feel good and even a new notebook for tracking things (the GP said that the dietician will want a food diary, so I may as well start one).

Another start. It may not be the last. But then again, it just might be.