Did Pollyanna Die?

I’ve lost my motivational mojo.

I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to get my weight loss bearings only to realize that even if I get my bearings, I don’t know where to go. My funk is so bad that the only way I’ve realized there is a problem is that I’ve started hiding again.

When I was my heaviest, it was easy to allow myself to shift into the background. It's funny how no one sees the nearly 300 pound woman in the room. No one tried to talk to me and most of the time, I was fine with that. I didn't really worry about how I looked or how I dressed because to be honest, the tents I costumed myself in did little to make me feel better about myself.

That Maghan is not the real Maghan.

I love talking to people. Conversations with strangers are sometimes the most interesting. And I'd come to love shopping. Now that I could actually find cute outfits, it was fun to try stuff on. Running and biking are awesome and bred euphoria. But the mojo left me and the funk reigned supreme.

I've gone out of my way to avoid interaction with others besides the people I most love. And even then, I probably haven't been the most pleasant.

I went shopping last week. I even had specific needs for clothing but didn’t try on a single item. Not one. Why? Because I was afraid of the truth the tag would tell.

I haven’t run or ridden my bike for weeks. And it’s not just because I’ve been sick, I haven’t wanted to sicken others with my grotesque-ness.

And that little insight is where I’m going to start. I feel like that statement says everything. Grotesque. While I know that isn’t the case, I feel like my self-esteem and even my self worth has been tarnished.

There was a time that I felt like a beautiful bad ass. I was in control of my life and my weight loss. Others recognized my achievements and I felt like I was finally within reach of my goals.

That was then.

Now, I don’t feel beautiful in ANYTHING in my closet. (Even though my boyfriend assures me otherwise.) And my world feels completely out of control. The goals that I’d achieved are now gone and the others I’d set no longer feel right. It seems like this runaway train started coming apart with the 20 pounds I regained and my brain has aligned that disheartening event with the more recent demise of my career. (“Would this have happened”, my brain keeps asking, “if I were still a size 12?”)

The one thing I do know is this self-loathing and self-flagellation HAS to stop. TODAY.

I cannot change the past. I cannot erase the wrongs that I have done anymore than I can erase the wrongs that have been committed against me. If I am to believe the people who really do love me, I am still a smart beautiful woman and I am worthy of the self respect I once had.

I found this quote and I feel like it fits my current situation perfectly:

Learn from the past
Set vivid detailed goals for the future
Live in the only moment of time you can control: NOW. 

This week, I’ve been striving to learn from the past. There have been a few simple things that have held a lot of truth for me. Foremost, I had to let go of my previous Pollyanna like outlook on life. For those of you who have no idea what I mean by Pollyanna outlook, Pollyanna was a novel (and subsequent Disney movie) about a little girl who in spite of a sad background had an optimistically sunny outlook on life and was determined to see the positive in every situation. I can't live like that anymore. Sometimes you just can't be positive about certain situations. Sad as it is, not everyone who professes to be a friend, actually is one. At the same time, I'm also learning not to sell myself short. To hold true to my own truths. I am more than my job. I love and am loved in return. I can do anything I set my mind to.

With this knowledge I think I can move onto setting my goals for the future. (Which I’ll discuss next week.)