It’s amazing how I always start everything with the best of intentions and then it fizzles out. I’m gung-ho and don’t really think it through when I make a commitment like my last post. I was going to post a selfie every day for a month. Sadly, that lasted 4 days. I was already sick of it. I couldn’t think of any way to be more original or interesting when taking the photos. I figured if I was that sick of doing it, others would be even more sick of seeing them. I don’t know if that’s true or not. I didin’t just skip a day with the plan to start back up the next day. On the 5th day, I didn’t post and then said, “I’ve ruined my streak. I give up.” My selfie plan went the way of every diet I’ve ever started. I can do it for a few days and then it turns into too much work. Or too much of a bother. Or I don’t see results.
I was doing the selfie thing to try to get myself over my selfie phobia and self hatred. 4 days isn’t going to cut it. It just shows how lost I am with coming up with my own solutions. Now I’m even more embarrassed that I didn’t follow through. I should’ve known better. I have a history of terrible follow through. If I promise something to an individual, I move heaven and earth to keep my word. Of couse, I’ve pretty much quit making promises because I don’t like the pressure. But a promise I make to myself, I don’t feel the need to honor. It goes back to me thinking I’m not worthy of it. It’s a Catch-22. This seems to be a common problem. I see others swear an oath to a new start of “eating clean”, a “90 day cleanse” or working out daily. They post their meals and workout outfits like they were entering a contest. A week or so later, they’ve put it on the back burner and soon it disappears entirely. Then a month later, they are pledging allegiance to the same thing again. I can’t do that. I’ve failed at the selfie thing even though I had some wonderful support from people on Twitter, Instagram and the blog. Now I’ll just try to post a pic when I can force myself. But I know there’ll be days where I won’t want to. I’m not going to make myself. This brings my expectations of success in the final outcome way down. To the point of impossible.
My knee has been all hosed up. A few weeks ago I was squatting in front of the kitchen sink. It sounds like I was going to take a dump there but alas, no. (Blame my train of thought on hearing about people in Walmart and other stores dropping trou in public and doing their business. I can’t even imagine, nor do I want to.) I was trying to reach way in the back underneath the sink. Like doing the deepest knee bend ever. I’ve always squatted as need be, sometimes it’s easier than bending over because I can see things head on instead of upside down or sideways. At the time, I felt excruciating pain. Almost like a burning and tearing. I had to pull myself up. Both knees were sore for awhile but I didn’t think much about it. Then a few days later, my left knee was painful as heck. On the side and behind the knee. Going down into the calf. I have too much to do to just rest, so I walked the dogs, carried laundry up and down the stairs, etc. Just business as usual. Now it’s worse than it was a week ago. I don’t want to have to go to the doctor or have surgery. That’s not an option when I have to care for Mom. It just feels like another thing to add to my list of Reasons To Be Depressed. I’ve never been one to have knee problems. I guess that makes me lucky. It gives me new appreciation for my MIL & SIL who have had knee replacements. I don’t want a new knee. I just want mine to work again! I think I must be the most impatient person in the world when it comes to healing or being sick. Heaven help the world if I ever end up in a wheelchair because I’d have to do some heavy plotting to keep myself on deck.
Hubby went to a Super Bowl part after work on Sunday. I was invited too but had to decline because Mom can’t be home alone at night anymore. I didn’t pout but was hurt that there was a time when hubby wouldn’t have gone anywhere without me. I guess I shouldn’t take it personally? Maybe he’s sick of missing things too.