I have 3 months, kids. 3 months to make good progress on my weight and my A1c, and keep my doctor from putting me on insulin. That may seem like a lot of time, but trust me, it’s not. And I’m terrified and overwhelmed.
It wasn’t until tonight that it really hit just how much this is. I went to the doctor this morning, and I was 100% there, completely motivated to make this happen. However, as the day has worn on, I’ve found myself wanting to run and hide from this reality. I don’t want this to be reality. I’ve been trying to keep it from being reality for nearly six years.
So, I had my last pizza, for the present foreseeable fiture, and went to a movie with my girlfriends. We were a bit loud, a bit inappropriate, but we laughed so much and it was just the best. Then, I came home and the true enormity of all this just hit.
I wish I could just hop in the car and drive across the state to where the boy is working this week. I wish he was sitting here, telling me that I’ve got this. That I can do this. For now, I just have to accept that text messages and phone calls are going to get me through until Friday, and thank God that he’s not gone more than he is.
Also, if anyone can explain the Mediterranean diet to me, that’d be super helpful. Because apparently I’m supposed to be on it, and Pinterest and Google are only serving to overwhelm and confuse me even more regarding it. The only thing they seem to agree on, is that I should be using small, colorful tomatoes in all my cooking. Which is concerning since I only like tomatoes pureed and mixed with a ton of sugar and vinegar.
So, yeah, it’s gonna be a fun 3 months!