Day 28 and the Changes in My Life
It's day 28.
In the past 28 days, I have not set foot in a casino. I have not placed a bet.
In the past 28 days, I have lost 11 pounds. Some of that was due to a lack of appetite my first 7-10 days, insomnia for the first 14 days, and generalized heightened anxiety for, well, almost the entire time. But a lot of that weight loss was due to understanding I need to quit ANY and all habits that are no longer serving me in my life. I was 145, and now I am 134.
In the past 28 days, I have overhauled my diet. I made an agreement with myself 28 days ago to start a new habit every 21 days. That sounds incredibly confusing, but I essentially quit gambling 28 days ago, and then quit the fast food, junk food, fried food, and oil-soaked food that was comprising the majority of my 2,800-calorie days 7 days ago.
In the past 28 days, I have finally started to realize my worth as a person. Not because I am somewhat successful at my job. Not because I am educated. Not because I have a city apartment or my dogs or designer handbags or a handsome fiance. But because I am me. Because I have fought to become this person, especially for the past 28 days. Because it is my spirit, not my belongings, that make me who I am. I can transfer to any career, lose my degrees, and move somewhere else, and still be me. That is my worth: who I am. Not anything tangible or external.
In the past 28 days, I have come clean to my fiance and my mother and a friend about the severity of my addiction. I have, for the first time, sought help through a support group. Though the DS group is online, I have, for the first time, realized that the support, understanding, and camraderie of a shared group is amazingly healing. I have allowed others' love and support to allow myself permission to love and support myself more.
In the past 28 days, I have gained perspective. I have calmed down, slowed down, and taken a step back. I don't need to build Rome in a day. I need a slow, doable, practical plan, whether to lose weight or to take my business to the next level or to continue recovering from this gambling addiction. And sometimes these plans require gaining more knowledge. Resting. Relaxing. Allowing time to connect with God and nature and loved ones. Figuring out who I am, exactly where I am in line with my goals, and learning how to get there.
In the past 28 days, gambling has become less of a force in my life. I used to wake up some days, not feel like going to work, and head to the casino instead. If I was able to leave in four to five hours, I would arrive at work irritable if I lost, or distracted if I won. If I left eight to ten hours later, it almost always felt like a hangover. There was even more pressure on me than before, and less money to accomplish my goals. If I made it to work, I would sometimes rush through my tasks so I could get to the casino and let go and let loose and have fun. In the past 28 days, I've gone from frantically needing gambling to feeling lost, empty, incredibly bored and physically sick without it, to finally starting to appreciate the small things in my life.
In the past 28 days, I have lost gambling, but I have gained so much. As cliche as that sounds, I know now I will be able to continue on this journey.
In the past 28 days, I have not set foot in a casino. I have not placed a bet.
In the past 28 days, I have lost 11 pounds. Some of that was due to a lack of appetite my first 7-10 days, insomnia for the first 14 days, and generalized heightened anxiety for, well, almost the entire time. But a lot of that weight loss was due to understanding I need to quit ANY and all habits that are no longer serving me in my life. I was 145, and now I am 134.
In the past 28 days, I have overhauled my diet. I made an agreement with myself 28 days ago to start a new habit every 21 days. That sounds incredibly confusing, but I essentially quit gambling 28 days ago, and then quit the fast food, junk food, fried food, and oil-soaked food that was comprising the majority of my 2,800-calorie days 7 days ago.
In the past 28 days, I have finally started to realize my worth as a person. Not because I am somewhat successful at my job. Not because I am educated. Not because I have a city apartment or my dogs or designer handbags or a handsome fiance. But because I am me. Because I have fought to become this person, especially for the past 28 days. Because it is my spirit, not my belongings, that make me who I am. I can transfer to any career, lose my degrees, and move somewhere else, and still be me. That is my worth: who I am. Not anything tangible or external.
In the past 28 days, I have come clean to my fiance and my mother and a friend about the severity of my addiction. I have, for the first time, sought help through a support group. Though the DS group is online, I have, for the first time, realized that the support, understanding, and camraderie of a shared group is amazingly healing. I have allowed others' love and support to allow myself permission to love and support myself more.
In the past 28 days, I have gained perspective. I have calmed down, slowed down, and taken a step back. I don't need to build Rome in a day. I need a slow, doable, practical plan, whether to lose weight or to take my business to the next level or to continue recovering from this gambling addiction. And sometimes these plans require gaining more knowledge. Resting. Relaxing. Allowing time to connect with God and nature and loved ones. Figuring out who I am, exactly where I am in line with my goals, and learning how to get there.
In the past 28 days, gambling has become less of a force in my life. I used to wake up some days, not feel like going to work, and head to the casino instead. If I was able to leave in four to five hours, I would arrive at work irritable if I lost, or distracted if I won. If I left eight to ten hours later, it almost always felt like a hangover. There was even more pressure on me than before, and less money to accomplish my goals. If I made it to work, I would sometimes rush through my tasks so I could get to the casino and let go and let loose and have fun. In the past 28 days, I've gone from frantically needing gambling to feeling lost, empty, incredibly bored and physically sick without it, to finally starting to appreciate the small things in my life.
In the past 28 days, I have lost gambling, but I have gained so much. As cliche as that sounds, I know now I will be able to continue on this journey.
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