30thOctober

the pits….

God, I am so depressed, crying depressed again. I probably should be doped up. I’m sure people on Prozac and shit probably feel a lot better than I feel most of the time and yet go for antidepressants. With me, it’s just, well, this is the way it is, there’s nothing you can do but try to fight mental with mental (and exercise and good eating….which I, by the way, have NOT been doing). It’s part of the reason for the depression, drinking, smoking, eating junk food, not getting much exercise. But the real reason is because I can’t ride my horse, my routine is gone, I have no love in my life and then I feel shitty and make it worse by, for example, today not going at all because I felt sick. Well, I did have asthma and my lungs hurt but I knew if I went it would probably get better. But, I also knew I would only see my horse and I feel bad for her all cooped up.

In any case, any time I start writing I start to feel better. I wonder if that indicates something, like that I like to write…hmmm…it would be nice to find something I can do. Oh, hell, it all just feels like too much to me anymore. But why? Why can I not embrace life and welcome the experience, take the good with the bad and not have it beat me down?

I stay out till morning (did it again on Tuesday night even though I didn’t want to I went along with a guy who was himself depressed and looking for a drinking partner to help cheer him up and that was me) and of course the alcohol depresses me further. It feels OK while I’m drinking and I say I am using this time to find myself, to explore and perhaps I am, perhaps it is a good experience. On the other hand, it makes much of the rest of my life seem all the more depressing in itself, the drag at work, the lack of joy, the lack of even interest in my work, in anything anymore and now riding without my horse, who was really my love, or is, but when I can’t ride her it’s not the same. Sigh.

The couple articles I write leave me feeling inept. I know they’re nothing special, but then, is anyone’s? What does “good” mean? Writing about someone who does good? Writing about someone whose story is utterly amazing, thus making the story my story. No, I think that’s what happens too much. It’s the story that makes the article appear good, when a good writer should be able to take the mundane and turn it into something memorable. That’s what I would like to achieve.

Oh, hell, my fingers are cracked, raw, so painful. My skin on my scalp and my arms is dry and flaking and so itchy. It just makes everything feel that much worse.

Oh, I wish something would help me feel better.

25thOctober

fact of life…

I am in another foul mood due to the lack of weight loss. It’s my fault, I know. I need to CHANGE things and I’m not changing them, at least not as far as the calories go, the calories in and out equation. Yes, I’m not drinking but I didn’t eat when I drank anyhow so in the time I’m not drinking I’m probably eating more now, thus the standstill in weight.
But, I gotta look at it like this. I CAN exercise if I want to because I’m not hungover and I have gotten some sleep, surely enough to get up and out and work out even if I don’t friggin’ FEEL like it.
When I’m ready to make the extra effort, that’s when things will change. Fact of life, kid, get used to it.

23rdOctober

tough run…

I’m really down about the weight loss. I had a loss yesterday on the scale and I DO feel tighter, but the scale is way up again this morning. It’s a joke, really, a very bad joke and it’s so disheartening. I mean, come on, the same old, same old. I guess I just have to really cut back on food, really deprive myself. I mean, I’m NOT drinking anything. That has to be good for something, no? Where would all those beer calories go? Yes, they go to my waist, but not on the scale? WTF??!!?!? Oh well, I will just have to cut out salt and stop with the rollercoaster on the scale because of it. 

I am going to indulge myself here and rant about the lack of weight loss. I am SO utterly disgusted with seeing the same numbers come up on the scale. Why am I so friggin’ good at maintaining the status quo???! It is really pissing me off. 

Ok, maybe I am pretty fit and it takes a LOT of effort but I want that PLUS some of my effort to show through. Now, here I am thinking it doesn’t show through, but I guess it does. I look like a sumo wrestler, muscular with lots of padding. 

What I’ve got to realize is that I have to take off the padding with EXTRA work and not compensate with eating more because I did more. That’s my downfall. I always do that. Oh, today I really worked out so the extra calories won’t matter. Sure, if I were already at my goal they wouldn’t matter but I have to pay my dues, the dues I racked up indulging myself when I wasn’t working out, the times I sat in the pub downing pint after pint. It’s those times I’m paying for now, damn them.

And I don’t want to pay because the effort alone is enough to put me in a vile mood. Oh, damn, I hate this whole thing, this whole trying to have something I don’t have because I’m not willing to keep on doing more and more and more. What goes? Why is effort so difficult for me? It seems other people can do what it takes. I am a lazy sod, that’s all I can say. When I make effort, and I do, I immediately want compensation and at THAT time, if it’s not immediate, then I’m not satisfied and so, I go round and round in circles. Fit BUT fat.

Well, so there, I just showed the error in my thinking. It’s not that I’m lazy or don’t make the effort, it’s that I UNDO the effort I do make, because I want rewards, rewards, rewards, NOW!!!! Some distant promise of weight loss, the body I want etc. etc. just doesn’t do it for me. I want the reward now. There is NO reward in the workout itself. Sure, it may feel OK, but I am tired as all get out and either have to push myself for an entire day after the workout if it’s a morning workout or, what?, go home and that’s it, no fun, no good tastes, no beer buzz, just that’s it?! WTF??! This is my problem. The workouts are work, God damn it, they are and they’re not fun.

Maybe, maybe I should just accept that….

 

20thOctober

back on the horse…

I did get back on…not the wagon, that I’m still on…but the HORSE. I knew I was going to have a choice of 1) canceling 2) riding by myself, which is easier 3) go into the small round ring OR …horrors…. 4) the big arena, 20 x 60 meters, the big scary ring by the road, surrounded by bushes with openings where real scary things like bicycles and loud motorcycles and little kids pass by and this construction supply center across that tiny road that is always swinging things around on cranes and making noises and spooking the horses. Sigh. It was one of those four I had to choose from..it was ONE of those I could choose from….and not lose all face entirely. No. 4 it had to be. 

To make a long story short, the teacher asked which it was going to be (by that time it was 3 or 4) but when I said it was scary after yesterday out in the big ring, she said, ok, then the round ring and walked off while I was to warm up. Of course, I knew I had to get out there and be scared again and face those fears and dangers, so I went out into the big ring. I hope my teach was pleased when she came back. 

Again, the horse was freaking in the corner and this time I almost fell off. She was freaking a lot too. I think the teacher must have been using the whip on her too much earlier in the week to get her listening and she just remembered that in the corners….anyhow….maybe not….it could have been something else. Well, I did it, I feel good. I went to the gym afterward, did a bit of weights, jogged a bit. I am sore all over, including my thumb, which must have gotten yanked around yesterday when I was hanging onto the bucking strap for dear life. Deep sigh.

So, lesson today was what I knew already, so maybe it’s better to say today was a test. I HAD to get back on the horse and I had to face my fears, or I may as well have given up. In any case, it was a hell of a weekend. I have never in recent memory felt so devastated and despairing as I did on Saturday. And that’s odd, because I feel pretty despairing all the time.

Wish me luck, folks.

18thOctober

down on myself

I get so down on myself. Lost my confidence riding today because my horse was flipping out. Then I panicked, couldn’t do what the teacher said and so she got pissed and walked off. She did come back but I was nearly in tears. I then I get so down on myself, my life, all my efforts that seem for naught and then I feel like eating, drinking, smoking, all the things I try not to do (well, the eating in excess). I feel that all my efforts turn out for nothing and, in truth, they do because I sabotage myself and UNDO the efforts I make. All that except in things like riding, where maybe I am getting a wee bit better, but oh…come on, why is it so hard?

I know the mindtapes for laying this kind of b.s. to rest, but the self-disgust won’t let me play them. It says I’m being soft. I don’t deserve it and no matter how much I yell at those voice to stop, they don’t. And the other ones trying to be nice (God, I sound like a schizo…) don’t get air time. What the F!!!!! goes?????!!!!!

11thOctober

at it again…

I was just reading back on my posts and was surprised to see me saying “it’s been four weeks without drinking.” Wow, the fact that I did that, that I could do it, amazes me now.

I know I sound like some sort of alcoholic and I’m not, really I’m not, hahaha, but with me over the past year drinking has become way too much of a substitute for the things that I would do, used to do, to improve the quality of my life, things as admirable as studying or doing extra freelance work or as mundane as eating very healthfully and getting ample sleep. 

This is Tokyo and drinking — and it’s a culture here — is perfectly acceptable, in fact, it is very uncool not to drink in an afterwork business environment or not to go out and drink with work colleagues. You are basically not to be trusted if you can’t go out and “get to know new business acquaintances” or “hang out with mates.” You are supposed to pour beer for each other (which prompts the other person to drink) and match each other round for round.

For years I did that and it was all very fine and good, but it has to stop because of what I said above, that’s where my LIFE is stopping!

Ah, this morning I was up early (5 a.m.) and out to go riding. It was SO nice to not be hungover or tired from lack of sleep or asking myself why I didn’t go home earlier and why did I drink so much on a night before riding. Now I really sound like an alkie! Most of all though, I was alert. My brain was not fogged. It was functioning well in light of the early hour. Ah, such is bliss. Bliss, like, well, searching for photos from my phone, like a sunflower against a blue sky filled with fluffy white clouds…. 

And I think back to how hard it was last night to not hook up with someone after work for some pints, to trudge home feeling bored and tired and knowing I had not much to look forward to other than a filthy room, which I knew I was not going to touch. I was so tempted to call someone, mail someone and say, “heh, where are you? Can I join you?” ….because there is always someone out drinking. And if I don’t find someone, there are always all the bars I can just walk into and talk with the owner or the customers, another thing I was doing a LOT recently.

It felt so boring to just GO HOME. And that’s when it really struck home. I have to first MAKE that life before I have it to look forward to, whatever that life may be, whatever things may be part of it. And that takes time. But more importantly, it takes DOING. OK, I may get more sleep just going home and sitting there staring at the television, but maybe I could do something else that would help me to later expand my horizons while still just sitting at home…like, studying, like, doing freelance work to supplement my income. Ah, lightbulbs. Ah, duh.

You see, I said things were getting clearer. (((((cheer))))))