I started the Whole30, and yesterday was day 4. I mention this only to add some context, and for you to know that day 4 without certain foods left me a tad lethargic (among other things). I compounded that with a poor night’s sleep (I woke up at 10pm, and thought I needed to get ready for the day, then followed that by my brain deciding to continue that cycle every couple of hours), a tiny hormonal imbalance, and a poor performance at the gym (yes, yes, I know… they said that would happen), and I found myself in the gym parking lot deciding today would be a great day to take full inventory of my life. You know, like you do sometimes. Of course the inventory had the header, “Things That are Unfair to Beth” then I listed them in my head (again, like you do in the gym parking lot). “It’s unfair everyone else gets to have a complete meltdown, and I have to be stoic. Stupid upbringing! Stupid stoicism! Stupid genes!” “Who’s the person who’s going hold me? Tell me it’s ok? Oh yeah, I remember now. NO ONE! Stupid death!” “It’s unfair that a person suggested I was over Jay, and that by contrast she would never be over losing her husband, but go me. Witness the tempest that whirls around in my mind EVERY SINGLE FRIGGIN’ DAY, LADY!” “It’s unfair I’ll die alone.” “Watch PS I Love You, lady… one speech beautifully captures where I still am.” “Don’t mourn enough? Too functional? And guess what, lady? I don’t get Jeffrey Dean Morgan in the end OR get to move to Ireland!!!” “Speaking of, it’s UNFAIR I don’t get to move to Ireland!” “It’s unfair that Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s character isn’t a real person who coincidentally is a chubby chaser!” “Where’s MY meltdown? WHERE?!?” Deciding “meltdowns” equaled falling apart and blubbering dramatically over friends, family, and colleagues who would doubtlessly watch in shocked horror. And that’s when I burst into inconsolable tears… for like two to three delightfully self-indulgent minutes.
They started out pretty swell, and then I realized I was just making noise – like the kid trying to get attention through crying, but not 100% committed, and I had to ask myself, “are you done? You had your moment? Can we drive the car now?” FINE. So, I drove to work, tears drying on my cheeks as I headed into the building, but thankful it was still dark outside. I got in, and my lunch was immediately torpedoed. Now “torpedoed” on Whole30 meant I had to rearrange what I had for breakfast and try to figure out how to make that stretch into two meals. Having forgotten my lunch on Day 1 of Whole30 gave me a neat window into “I don’t want to ever do that again!!!” That’s when I declared I couldn’t be around people. Ok, so I didn’t wave a flag around and really shout it out to anyone, I told a couple of people. I also explained to those couple of folks that said meltdown was occurring because of X, Y, and Z – lack of sleep, diet change, hormones. You see, on a very rational level I understood the “why” of it all, but that it didn’t take away my strong desire to flip all of the coffee tables.
Enter my friend John – the office mate you all should have. My other bestie office mate wasn’t quite able to run over to my building. Although, she did show me that I was officially at the Whole30 stage of “Kill all the things!” (FYI, “kill all the things” is based on science. Mmm hmm. It starts on Day 4. I’ve seen the graph. It’s on my phone; therefore, it is fact.) And another who was busily cracking the “I’m a moody little princess” shell with some “guten fruiten thutens Thursdays!” (I can’t possibly explain that, it’s “German,” please don’t ask. You’re clearly not bilingual.) Although, poor John got to be the one at ground zero.
Now here’s what I like about John. He’ll listen patiently (without outwardly judging – I suspect there’s some judgment behind the “mostly” placid face), and he won’t throw out ideas to fix whatever it is you think you’re currently suffering from, that likely you aren’t. I think he truly realizes “kill all the things” isn’t a cute euphemism for “please give me a sea of suggestions that I will definitely hear and appreciate while I’m mid rage, and rampaging about like an out of control penguin” (look elephants? bulls? so passé – also, I learned in Behind the Scenes at Sea World that penguins can be little tuxedoed jerks, so this analogy is really working for me). John is more action, so when he got out of me that my world had worked out so I could have lunch, he basically said, “you need to go away from here for a bit; I know a place that works with your Whole30.”
With that one action I got out into the sun, got to hear new stories, discovered a great place to eat (Salata), and breathed just a little bit better.
So, everyone (including me) owes a huge thanks to these people for putting up with my shenanigans, getting me back on the rails, and for weathering the mess that was Beth yesterday (and all the other days).
Also, while things still aren’t “fair” (are they ever?), I do believe I am actually owed one gigantic, ugly meltdown where someone will have to pat my head. I’m just sayin’. Hey, the title of this is “I’m Still a Mess,” you didn’t really expect some epiphany here, did you?