Another round of the insights into my brain (and in this case, my stomach)…
- I am in a serious relationship with caramel right now, especially if it’s salted. It was never my go-to flavour when I was looking for a treat, but right now I am all about it. If I wasn’t being careful about my diet I swear I’d eat it every day. It weirds me out because I have never had a sweet tooth, ever.
- I’ve started doing guided meditations and they’re actually really helping. I use the Stop, Breathe & Think app. I know at some point, when it’s more financially viable, I should really go and see a therapist and just unpack everything that has happened in the last five or so years (which is a bit mind-boggling when I actually think about it) but until then, this is my way of being kind to myself.
- Being “the one who left” has put me in a really odd position in my groups of friends – I’ve become party to a surprising number of people (and surprising people) sharing their secret unhappiness in their relationships, asking for a sounding board. I think that sometimes unhappiness in relationships can be incredibly isolating and people will reach out when they finally find someone that they think will understand; in hindsight I did the same thing. Some have chosen to stay & it’s been a great decision, some have chosen to stay for other reasons and my heart breaks for them. Some have chosen to leave and I share both their joy and sorrow. Their stories are not mine to tell, but it’s interesting to me how the thirties are more tumultuous for some of us than our twenties ever were. Maybe we’re more confident in ourselves, know what we need and are wise enough sometimes to know when our spouses just can’t and won’t fill that need.
- I’m surprised I’m even admitting this, but I’m hyper-vigilant about watching CJ for any behavioural regression that would indicate autism. Even though my sister’s autistic tendencies are part of her condition (one that is not hereditary), even though there is sweet FA I could actually do to “stop” it happening… Still, I watch.
- For the last few years, I’ve been happy to claim that I “can’t run”. Back in 2010, a physio told me that given my wide-set hips and tight IT bands, I just wasn’t built for running and should focus on other lower-impact sports. Last week I was at the gym after a day that had been immensely frustrating on so many levels. I hopped on the treadmill and I just ran. And I ran and I ran and I ran. I actually was surprised how long I could run for. And the only part of me that hurt? Let’s just say I need a better-fitting sports bra. It’s still not my favourite form of exercise, but man did it cure my scratchiness. Stuff you, Mr. Physio.
Anything you’d like to confess?