I so wish I would remember to eat. An appetite and memory would be super. My timers, notes and reminders mostly go ignored or nibbled at dang it.
Of course, having my smallest clothes loose feels lovely. All those years of dieting did a number on my body image. Smaller is always better, right?
I got woozy and dizzy at work, blurry vision right in the middle of rush time. I of course assumed the tumor was back. No, that’s a sign that I haven’t eaten in days. Again. Oy. I wonder how long I will assume every twinge in my head is the tumor returned.
Part of my meditation intention is to have gentleness and compassion for myself when I struggle and not call myself a dumbass for that. Noted. But grrr! Just eat already.
I’m trying not to panic about the corona virus and what all this reduction in tourism is going to do to my job. I have zero cushion. I’m barely getting myself back above water dang it. I’m in a blue state and I’m going to hope for the best.
Part of my self care has been using meditation to help with my anxiety. It’s really helping, better than the Xanax was. If I can remember to meditate every day, why not eat?