Two weeks ago we woke up at 2:30(am) in order to be ready to get in the car with my dog at 3:30. Then we drove six and a half hours to the coast where we were to take the boat. We arrived on time, even early but getting on the boat was a bit stressful because apparently the staff there didn't get paid enough to be even remotely kind. We asked several times until somebody told us that a staff member would come to the waiting room and let us know when we could get on board. Turns out it wasn't true. When we asked, more than an hour and a half later if we could get on already they shouted at us that it was too late and we'd have to run for it if we didn't want to be left behind... We then proceeded to go on board and wait more than two hours until we left, quite delayed. During the 35 hours we were on the boat, I read a couple of books and finished a video game. My partner slept almost all the way through it, waking up to eat and take the dog to the assigned outside deck with me. I reckon I'm quite lucky. I've never gotten motion sickness. At least not at sea. I've also met quite a few people who needed to go vomit even before leaving the port.
We arrived at our destination on Sunday, at 22:45 (or almost 11 pm), about 3hrs later than expected. When I finally got home, 46 hours had passed since we left the day before. I was dizzy for three days after that, which had never happened to me before. While I don't get sick at sea it usually takes me a couple of hours to adjust to being on firm ground but never 3 whole days. Anyways, on Monday I took the dog to the vet that oversees her diet, which is in another city. Wednesday I went to my local vet to explain the overall situation and complete the registration forms and so on, as different regions have different rules for pets and I prefer for her to be registered wherever she's living. On Friday evening my partner and I took the plane back. The flight was a little over 3 hours. Then we drove for another 3 hours. We arrived at my flat around the same time we'd left exactly a week before. That is, around 2am on Saturday night.
The five days I spent home I ate absolutely everything and anything I wanted. My mother made a selection of her best dishes and I applaud those who can reject their mother's cooking while on a diet but I'm not one of those people. I also don't be one of those people when I hadn't had the chance of eating her food for around 7 months now. If it was a daily occurrence I'd have to be stronger but not this time.
I didn't want to weight myself last week because the stress of the trip, the overeating and the flying. I knew it'd be a mess. My partner convinced me to get on the scale on Sunday morning and I did. It marked 4kgs more than my last log (which was two weeks prior because the week before we were on the boat on Saturday morning and I obviously didn't bring the scale). This week it merely marks 1kg more than three weeks ago. I didn't log the 4 extra kilos because I knew they weren't realistic. I know some may say that not logging something in order to not feel discouraged is trying to deceive yourself. I could agree on that. I can also agree with not being overly strict and understanding when something is out of our control (like how flying can make you quite bloated and give a false result on a scale) and just doing your best in navigating these kind of situations.
Right now I'm trying to finish some of the food left on my pantry, which is mostly pasta and legumes so I really need to be extra careful with my rations. I wouldn't have to be so careful if I ate mostly less caloric foods but as I'll be moving next weekend I'm trying to minimize the amount of fresh food I'm buying because I don't want it to go to waste. I already gave up my lease and contacted the administration to quit my studies. I won't be finishing the year. I have given no reasons and I won't. Two months ago I wrote about my dog's health. During this two months, many other things have been adding to that already unlucky situation that finally tipped me over the edge. I've been resting this week and taking care of myself.
Next weekend I'll be moving with my partner for three weeks or so. Then I'll head home to take care of my dog, who is currently under my sister's care. I'll go back to live where I've lived all my life up until last year, as per the vet's recommendation. Honestly, I like that place way better than my current city. We have sun all the year round, people are way kinder and food is way better too. There are much more options of both fresh food and sweets (though I shouldn't be looking for those). Also restaurants.
It worries me a little bit that I won't be in charge of my food anymore, as it's my mothers house and making two lunches daily is enough work as it is (one for my grandma and one for the rest of us) to be adding yet another one and cook something different for almost every person in the house. I know that we can reach a middle ground and I'll work towards it. It's also a good way to prove how I'd do in a setting with 'normal' food instead of just controlling a lot of low calories food. That's a problem for next September though, so I'll just focus on the immediate future for now.
About the immediate future I'm looking right now at five months of rest. Maybe I'll do some private tutoring but I'll mostly focus on taking care of mine's and my dog's health and studying a little bit on my own. I'll also take a deep look at my options, whether they're studying (and what and where) or working. By following these steps I hope I'll be ready for whatever comes to me next.
As always, thanks for reading.
(Photo by me).
