Well, for the past three days I’ve done three good things for myself.

1. I took a walk each day: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. (And I’m going to take another in about an hour.)

2. I’ve taken my vitamins and probiotics.

3. I haven’t eaten any cake.

I realize that number three seems like a weird thing to consider an accomplishment but given my daughter’s birthday falls during the school winter break and then she has a party the week after it’s at least January 12th before all the celebratory desserts and cake are finally out of the house.

Number two might also not seem like much but when I stopped taking one of the antidepressants I was on I started having some serious withdrawal that I’d never experienced before. So I researched a probiotic, vitamin, and supplement intervention to help with the withdrawal and I’m taking it. It’s helping. It’s also supposed to help with reversing some of the things that contribute to weight gain while on antidepressants.

The first thing on the list is probably the most important. I like to take walks. It’s just that part of depression is not being interested in things that you like. So for a long time I didn’t. Last week one day I climbed into bed to take a nap only to discover that I didn’t really feel the need to take a nap. It was kind of surprising after almost a year of just wanting to pack it in everyday by noon.

It seems walking is legitimately back on the docket…

I had set some very modest and reasonable goals for myself after my doctor’s appointment: 64 oz of water a day and walking when the weather allows. I’m getting the walking back into the routine but I’m still struggling with the water. I do well in the morning, usually getting in 16-28 oz in the morning around breakfast, but then it drops off as the day progresses.

I’m working on it.

I’m also working trying to focus on just these two things: water and walking. I’m trying to remind myself that I’m not throwing out my whole food plan and starting over. I’m not making a ton of abrupt changes. I’m just continuing to eat, basically, as I was before and starting with one small thing at a time.

See, it occurs to me that my life has been a series of cycles of losing and gaining weight. Ever since I was 8 I’ve been on this yo-yo ride. I’ve always thought I would lose weight and, someday, be able to stay there. But that has never happened. This thought made me feel pretty helpless, like, what the hell is the point if I can never stay at my goal… if I’ll just gain weight. I always do.

But then it made me feel less hopeless about being overweight again. Because I guess this means I’ll lose at least some of it again. I always do.

I’m tired of focusing on a number on the scale. I no longer care about weighing what I did before getting pregnant with my son. I no longer care about fitting into those jeans again. I just want to not see my body as the enemy. I’m realizing that no matter what my weight I’ve always seen my body as the enemy. I don’t want to do that anymore.

So today my hopeful thought is this: I will never stay thin. I will never stay fat. I will always have to think about this. But it means that nothing has to feel like a prison. Life will change and so will I.

For today I’m going to just let go of comparisons to my past self and let go of fantasies of who I’ll be in the future.

For today, I’m just here, taking a walk, and drinking more water.

For today I’m just looking to feel better in my clothes and not having to struggle to get up from having been sitting on the floor.

Modest goals = Increased chance of success = Greater hope.

That’s something I can live with.