365 Days of Fitness – Week 2

Day 8 Sun 21^st Feb – Weekends are never calm and tranquil. They are generally a huge annoying mess. Sunday is no acception. I wake up with a million things to do just in the first few hours. Getting Miss Peanut up, nappy changed, getting her dressed. Then I feed the cat, before starting breakfast for everyone. Once that’s done I sit feeding her while eating my own.

The Italian sits playing her music so she can dance while I do all this. Sometimes he does make breakfast when I mention it. What I mean by that is when I nag. Yes I nag. I have evolved into a nagger. God forbidden that I turn into my mother. I know it’s happening. He’s mentioned it a few times. Maybe it’s inevitable.

I do have bursts of anger through my depression mainly directed at him as he’s the only other adult I have contact with every day. Part of me knows this isn’t fair. You’re not always rational though when depressed.

I have become a pro at sarcastic responses. I have a reply for almost anything.

Not that he is always listening.

We have turned into a culture, that doesn’t really listen to what people say. I mean really listen. The kind of way you see and hear the emotions behind the words spoken. There true meaning and why they are being said, the pain, the anger or even the affection and love.

People just answer with the expected response.

A response, which is sometimes just empty words. There spoken just to reply.

This I think is how we lose our connection with others, when they give up truly listening.

Next on my list is doing the food shopping alone. It’s a small escape away. Then it’s back to unpack it all.

I get a 1 minute plank done straight after. It’s hard as I wear my shoes. I prefer doing it barefoot. I love the feel of the ground under my feet. Then it’s on to 21 push ups.

In the afternoon we go and watch Deadpool while the kid is at the babysitter. It feels like old times. I feel happy for a few hours. It’s nice. I miss the old times.

I miss the old us. We aren’t them anymore. We have both changed becoming parents. I am not even sure they existed anymore. I sure as hell don’t feel the same.

When we get back I go straight to the bathroom and do 60 chair dips. There hard and I have to stop every 15 dips rest a minute before I do the next lot. I am sore by the end.

Day 9 Mon 22^nd Feb – Today was a good day. Miss Peanut discovers the hand puppets at the bottom of one of her toy boxes. Its hours of fun with and without me. I managed to get some writing done, which is nice. She’s happy. I am happy it’s a win win situation.

It was salad for lunch. So far in the week I seem to be sticking with them. I am surprised. Maybe it will take a while before I get sick of them. There will come that point I know. Other things will tempt me. Things I shouldn’t have but I probably will.

Chair dips and push ups are on a rest day. So it’s just a run and planking to do. I don’t feel bad or guilty about this. I need the rest days. I decided to leave the plank until after my run.

Alex gets in just after 7pm. I can’t go straight out as he needs the bathroom so I have to watch Miss Peanut. This can be a fail point for me, because he’s in there for ages and time starts ticking on. I don’t want to be out in the dark for ages. It’s already late and I need to feed myself and Peanut. No one else is going to do it.

I want to just go straight out when he gets back. It’s what I need. Eventually he emerges. I have half convinced myself not to go. Instead I mumbled bye and get my arse to the park.

I am already exhausted. The bags under my eyes are still pronounced. I end up running slowly eyes half closed, trying not to stumble.

I manage to run 1.75 miles with only stopping once. As usual it’s to do up my flipping shoe lace.

The plank is for 1 whole minute. Somehow I get it done with not much effort. This has to mean there working right?

Sad news from face book when I get back inside. One of the expats I like who lives in Milan is leaving Italy. She’s had enough and heading back to the UK.

We’ve met up a few times and I like her a lot. My heart feels heavy. In the back of my mind I secretly wish I could leave to. Yes I live here but it’s not really home. I doubt it really ever will be. After over eight years it’s not. So why would that ever change?

Day 10 Tue 23^rd Feb – I am tired and grumpy. I spend the morning waiting for the kid to have a nap. She’s hyper today and driving me nuts. Its changing dvd’s every 5 mins because she wants something different. Then we play and play and she’s still not happy. I let her colour. It keeps her busy for 5 mins. Then we look at books. It’s never ending. I just want five minutes to myself. I don’t think that’s much to ask for.

We are going to the UK to visit family in less than four weeks. It feels so far away. I know once I am there I will gulp in freedom. I will be able to be me. Whoever that is now.

Three weeks there. Grandma loves to help with nappies, feeding, playing. It’s the help I need. The time I need.

I just hope the time up to it won’t drag. I feel down. It settles over me like a thin dark shroud.

I find myself snacking on crisps. I don’t even notice it until I realise I am shovelling them into my mouth. It’s not worth it. Comfort eating doesn’t get me anywhere but fat. I don’t want to use it as a crutch anymore so I stop eating them.

Nap time comes and I hold a perfect 1 minute plank. Then I do 24 push ups.

I do a little writing and researching. I am in a better mood when she wakes up. We phone Grandma for a chat. The kid likes to babble to her on the phone. Grandma sings to her.

It bath time for Miss Peanut. She has fun and we play with her ducks with me sitting beside the bath.

I was going to do 60 chair dips when Alex got home. In the end I don’t have a chance. There is not enough time between cooking dinner and getting the kid ready for bed. I still hate them anyway, so I end up skipping them. Bad I know. Ten days in and I can’t start skipping workouts. Tomorrow I will do better.

Day 11 Wed 24^th Feb – My new kindle was arriving today. I am happy. That is up until the point it comes. I discover Alex has made the internet password illegible. I try typing it a million times yet it is always incorrect. I can’t sort my kindle out now until he gets home at 7pm.

Annoyance is not the words I feel. I am angry he just can’t write it clearly.

I wallow for about an hour in depression then shake it off. I leave the kindle charging and get on with other stuff to distract myself. It helps.

When Miss Peanut is napping I do a 1 minute and half plank. Then I do 26 push ups. I am already seeing slow changes in my body. I hope I can keep it up.

By the time the kid wakes up I have a dull head ache throbbing through my skull. It shoots pain behind my right eye. It seems to have settled in for a long haul. I need to drink more water to get rid of it. I also suspected its lingering anger over the internet password. I just can’t let it go.

It’s starting to feel like ground hog day. Miss Peanut drags out all the toys from every toy box. There strewn all over the floor. I pick them up every five minutes, but they always come back. This has happened for three days straight. It’s felt like one long continuous day since Monday. They all slid together until I don’t know what day it is anymore.

My headache is getting worse. I still have chair dips to do and a run tonight. I give in and take a painkiller.

The headache is gone by the time Alex gets home. I go for my run. I feel FREE. It’s just for the too brief moments of running but I still feel it. It’s a good run and I really enjoy it. I even have a smile for my photo.

The chair dips I abandon. I hate them. Maybe in a few months I will do them again but I don’t think doing something I enjoy is good motivation.

I discover when i get in that i have been typing the wrong code into the kindle. I feel stupid. Yet happy it now works.

Day 12 Thur 25^th Feb – I take Miss Peanut out this morning. We go to the park. It’s a nice morning feeling spring like. We meet another mum with a little boy of 2. Peanut goes wild. She’s so happy to have a little playmate. First she pushes him over then she’s kissing him.

I start a conversation with the Mum in my broken Italian. She quickly picks up I’m English and starts talking to me in English. This makes life easier for me. She seems nice. I try to feel hopefully I have made a mum friend in the park. From experience through this doesn’t always work out. They stop going or their kids go to playgroup. Then i never see them again.

Her little boy is talking and he’s 6 months younger than my girl. She’s towering over him like an amazon. She’s already as big as a three year old. She is going to be tall.

The boy can talk. She even tells me that she knows it takes bilingual kids longer to talk. This still doesn’t make me feel better. I want Peanut to talk.

At the moment its random words like dog, blue, aqua, water. She also says ‘oh no’ ‘oh god’ ‘all gone’.

I talk to Peanut constantly. I show her what things are telling her the names and show her books as well of colours and words.

I know all children are different. They all take different times to learn but this brings me down. I want to run away and go home with Peanut. Hide away. I feel like a failure.

Instead I make myself stay. She’s happy and playing running around laughing. I get someone else to talk to. I try not to feel bad about something that is not under my control.

In the end I have to tear her away as its time to go back. She cries. I know its part tiredness and part happy to play with other kids. I feel like I am being mean, but we have shopping to get.

I don’t feel hungry today and end up just picking at stuff all day.

When the kid is napping I do 26 push ups and 1 minute plank.

The plank wasn’t supposed to be done but I feel like I need it. It’s like a drug now. Seeing how long I can hold it before I start shaking and it starts to feel uncomfortable.

In the afternoon I have a panic attack. It comes out of nowhere. Miss Peanut won’t give me five minutes piece. She’s crawling all over me. I can’t breathe literally.

I try to suck in oxygen but it’s like it’s just not there. My lungs fill with nothing. I am drowning again.

With the kid hugging me tight it soon passes. I curl up on the sofa with her and watch cartoons. I feel unsettled. I hope I don’t have another one.

Day 13 Fri 26^th – Alex wakes us up at 7am. It’s the same everyone morning in the weekday. Me and Peanut don’t really have to get up but he gets us up anyway. When we aren’t moving by 7.30 he’s back to tell us to get up.

He says he doesn’t know why I am so tired. He knows I get up twice in the night to give the kid milk. I am so f@*king tired. Sometimes I wish we could trade places just so he knows what it’s like.

I’m so tired I feel like crying.

Almost less than 3 weeks until we go to the UK. I know I will get to sleep in there along with many other things. It’s the only thing I’m clinging to now. Something to look forwards to.

I break down on the bed and cry. Alex is worried about me. I am an emotional messy today. He tells me he knows how hard it is. I tell him I don’t know who I am any more.

He says I am still me, that I am just buried under everything. I am not sure if I believe him or not. He takes the day off. He’s worried about me and wants to lift some weight of my shoulders.

It’s nice.

We all go out and get some needed stuff done. Peanut likes having Daddy home. It’s someone else to play with. I feel more relaxed. The tension leaves me and I actually feel sort of happy.

I end up running at 5.40pm. It’s still light outside. I haven’t run in the light for a long time. It feels weird. The running is 1.75 miles. It’s a good run. I enjoy it.

The only down side is several flies committing kamikaze in my eyeball and the flow of more people. I think I prefer running in the dark. At least then I am along with my thoughts.

I get in and do a 1 and half minute plank. Straight after I do 28 push ups. I feel it all afterwards. I ache.

Day 14 Feb 27^th – It’s Saturday. I want to lie in bed for ten minutes but I am already being told to get up. It’s raining today. A big storm with high winds is expected. It doesn’t appear.

I am writing again. I have ideas flowing out of my head. It’s fun and I am transported to another city. Sometimes I find it hard getting my characters to interact. I have to imagine their emotions and that’s not always easy. It’s harder on bad days when I feel down. Today I feel ok.

Food shopping is done and I unpack. I keep wondering when I should do my exercises. Alex has been looking after Miss Peanut while I shop.

He says he’s exhausted and needs a break. His words snap something inside me.

I go into the bathroom and close the door. The tears come. I crawl into a corner and quietly sob. All my loneliness, depression, pain, confusion, anger, it all comes crashing out. Those dark feelings are finally free in my head. There much louder now.

I can’t stop. Tears are continuously rolling down my face. I cry quietly. All the while I can hear the Kid and Alex playing.

I want to stop just for half an hour and not have any responsibility. I want the lazy weekends back. I want to be the old me. I want to stop all the emotions, which are now pouring out of me. But they don’t.

I am drowning again and I am hiding in the bathroom.

I curl into a ball in my corner. I am there for a whole 30 minutes. I cry the whole time until my eyes are aching and the numbness is creeping in. It’s a good kind of numb because I can’t feel anything. I want it.

I start to wonder if they would be better off without me. That if I died today it would all be over. I know these are just dark depressed thought. I am too much of a coward to hurt or end myself. I cling to life like everyone else.

There just passing murky thoughts. In the end I want one simple thing my Mum.

I think we all do in the end, when we are hurting and confused. She’s not here though she’s far away in the UK.

Alex comes and finds me. He wants to understand what’s going on. He thinks it’s something he’s done. This just makes me cry all the harder. I can’t stop. All my tears should be shed by now but they just keep coming. My eyes are all puffy and ache even more.

He asks me how do we fix this?

I start to laugh. It’s a crazy manic laugh and I can’t stop. It keeps escaping and I am hysterical. I have to grab onto the washing machine i am laughing so hard. It’s manic, hopeless, right from the deepest depths. It goes on and on continuing  to leak out.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I am having a nervous breakdown. From the look on Alex’s face he thinks so to. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.

I gasp for breath between the crying and the laughing. All the while Alex sits watching me with a worried look on his face. I can hear his voice. The murmur of soothing words.

Slowly the laughing stops but the tears still leak from the corners of my eyes.

Eventually he coaxes me out of the bathroom. We end up talking a lot. He doesn’t want me to be lonely anymore. He wants to see me happy. He hugs me, pets my hair and tells me he loves me.

I just feel completely numb after my jagged emotional purge. I feel empty.

He says maybe I should see a therapist. I am not sure this would help. Telling a stranger how I feel, would that really do anything for me? Is this person going to magically make me feel better and fix me? Am I broken inside? Am I crazy? Is this all normal?

Other suggestions come. Maybe I should find a once a week evening group to join. English groups like this in Rome are few and far between. It might work and only trying will see.

After the kid goes to bed, we talk some more. It helps. He wants to reconnect and so do I.

The numbness is still there though. I want to feel better I really do. How I get there though I really don’t know. I have been like this for so long that i know longer remember how i used to be.

He tells me to do my exercises. I do a 1.30 minute plank and 28 push ups.

They do make me feel better. I enjoy the exercises. They are a bit of control I have over my life. When I go to bed I sleep like a log.

This week has been very up and down. I really don’t know if that was a nervous breakdown or not. Maybe it was just pain and depression that needed a way out.

I still think the exercise is helping though. I also felt better since breaking down. Maybe its helped to.

365 Days of Fitness – Week one

I am not going to cheat.

Whatever I write on here is what I have done and how I felt.

The only person I would be cheating and lying to is myself. This is my journey and it only affects me.

I sat for a while on the first day figuring out what to do. I tend to work better if I have a written plan, so that’s what I decided to do. It really does help seeing it scribbled in my diary, especially on bad days.

Remembering all the 30 days challenges I did quite a while ago, I went back to them. I have picked planking, chair dips and press-ups for my first 30 days.

These I decided would get me started. They start off easy then build up. I have also restarted the 5km training plan which is three days of running. If I want to run more than I will but I am not putting pressure on it. I think that is the key.

So these sound good. I might mix them up with a workout, if the kid lets me have time. But that depends on her mood and if she decides if Mummy can have time during the day without interruption.

I am posting cheesy photos once a day for Instagram and will use them on here. Hopefully I might actually start smiling in some of them.

Day 1 Sun Feb 14^th – My birthday and the day this journey begins.

I am excited and wanted to do everything. Just go out and run as long as I can, then do a million workouts. I know this is because I am excited and determined right now. But I know doing too much at once will just be silly. I don’t want to injure myself.

So I complete the first day of my 30 day challenges. Planking for 20 seconds, 15 press ups and 30 chair dips.

That might not sound like much but I felt them afterwards. Alex surprises me by planking with me. This Italian does not like exercise. So for him to do this is a small miracle. It was his choice and I am happy he is willing to do it.

He is also going to try and keep to this one. It’s good because he tells me to keep my butt down which helps.

I put a photo on Instagram. It’s another way to mark my progress and I think it will help.

Day 2 Mon 15^th Feb – We decided to do the planking in the morning before Alex goes to work. We both are excited to do it even though he complained of aches and pains this morning.

20 secs of planking and even he is feeling it to.

During the day I completed 35 chair dips and 16 push ups. Everything clicks when I do them. I mean physically clicks, it’s a little annoying but I guess it’s a sign I’m getting older.

After eleven hours of playing with Miss Peanut and also watching cartoons on and off, I am mentally drained. Facing going out and running makes me want to cry. I would rather go crawl into the bathroom and hide when the time comes. But I can’t do that.

My three day running plan starts today. The vultures of self-doubt are already circling. I have been thinking too much during the day letting the darkness drag me down.

I can’t help it. I am alone apart from the kid so the depression makes itself at home in my head. It’s been comfortable there for so long now.

The hardest part is getting my ass out the door. On auto pilot I get dressed in my running clothes. I still don’t want to go and putting them on doesn’t make me feel better. I want to wallow in self-pity. Instead when Alex gets home I go straight out to the park.

I don’t think. I just go with my music already on. It’s the only way to make myself go.

I ran a mile without stopping. It was slow and a 13 minute mile but I don’t care. The main thing was after a month and half of not running I did not stop. I had really expected to stop and start, walk, even wheeze a bit. I didn’t though. I felt fine. This did surprise me.

I only stopped after a mile to do up my shoelace then I completed another half a mile. I was buzzing with a flood of endorphins enjoying that tiny spark of positivity which I know won’t last long.

Its motivation I need.

I know this is because it’s the start and I know that might eventually fade. But when it does I will re-read all of this and see how well I have done up to that point.

Day 3 Tue 16^th Feb – A twitter friend has recommended a book for me to read. So I went ahead and downloaded it.

‘Reasons to Stay Alive’ by Matt Haig. I read the first two pages and I cannot put it down. This guy is describing pretty much exactly how I feel and what is going on in my head. I know I won’t get to read it all in one go. It will have to be in dribs and drabs, but I think it might help.

30 seconds of planking this morning. I am feeling quite strong. Alex huffed and puffed but got it done.

It’s raining today so we are staying inside. Alone with the kid again and I am over thinking stuff and not in a good way.

We had a rough night, she woke up from a nightmare and I spent 30 mins comforting her. After that I lay awake for 2 hours unable to sleep. My brain just would not shut off again.

I feel so tired today. I keep wondering if I am ever going to lose the black bags under my eyes or are they now a permanent fixture.

My arms are aching from the exercises so far. I don’t want to do the ones today. I can’t wimp out now. In the end I force myself. Its only 17 push ups and 40 chair dips.

I feel crappy that a big part of me already wants to give up. That so much of me would let the depression win. I end up having a long cry about it.

Two expat friends John and Alison surprise me with a visit in the afternoon. I have to make the effort to get dressed and tidy up. It makes me have a 1 mile walk with Miss Peanut to the metro to meet them. Luckily it’s stopped raining and it’s time to clear my head in the fresh air.

I love their visit. They live four or five hours from Rome so I don’t see them often. Ali tells me she knows I have been depressed for the last two years. I wish they lived closer. As she points out I am lonely to.

We chat about everything and nothing. They know about my blog post and we talk about that. I look at the floor when I talk. I feel ashamed and can’t look them in the eye.

It helps. They are both understanding and know I have been going through stuff for quite a few years now. When they leave I am mentally drained. You don’t realise the effects of just talking until you haven’t done it for a long time. I feel exhausted but in a good day.

Day 4 Wed 17^th Feb – We went to get the application form for Miss Peanut to start Materna (school) for September when she turns three.

I am almost giddy with a little sense of excitement over this. It means half a day of freedom to breathe and be me.

The only problem is they have limited space and she might not get in.

Alex has suggested we go private if she doesn’t, which means we pay. At this point he knows we have to do it to save my sanity. The excitement soon wears off. At the end of the day nothing is certain and I don’t want to get my hopes up over something that might not happen.

I am still tired even more so. The kind, that can leave you muddle and lets the wrong confused words spill out of your mouth.

She woke up at 5am this morning. It took me an hour to get her to sleep again. Then we were up at 7am. She always wakes once or twice a night for milk still. I seem to have lived on 5 or 6 hours, even less sometimes for almost 2 and half years. It makes me wonder what sleeping the night through would be like again.

I did walk 1 mile and half and that counts as exercise.

Alex is skipping the plank today. His back is hurt and he doesn’t feel up to it. I don’t mind but I still get my 30 sec plank done.

There’s no chair dips today as it’s a rest day on the workout. I still manage 18 push ups.

Today has been a good day. There’s not been much time for me to over think thing and sink into the dark fog hanging over me. Not thinking helps. I am so tired by 7pm, but I still go out for my run.

It’s a mile and half again. Tonight I just want to get it done. Then get back to cook dinner. I hope Miss Peanut will just sleep more tonight.

I am so tired that I end up walk running. Even like this I still get it done.

Day 5 Thur 18^th Feb – Alex doesn’t plank today. I am procrastinating about doing it. I still haven’t done any of the exercises by 3pm. I know I am going to have to at some point.

I am trying to be good food wise. Recently I have been eating crap. Eating myself into sweet oblivion might have looked good at the time, but ultimately it’s not.

So I am going to be as healthy as I can when eating. Treats occasionally are fine. I am not a saint when it comes to food though. It’s been my comfort blanket for so long now.

So far it is going well. I am not sure how long eating salads though for lunch will last.

It’s been a good day so far. I am in a good mood. I have chatted with a few people on Facebook and played a lot with Miss Peanut.

People I know in the UK are all excited about going to see a movie. Deadpool. I really want to see this one to. Having a google to my local cinema which plays a few movies in original language I discover it’s on. The version in Italian is played all day for a week. The English version is only played today and tomorrow once at 10.22pm.

The bottom of my good mood falls out right there. I can’t even go and see a film I want to see anymore. That’s way too late for me, it won’t be finished til midnight. I have a child to put to bed and give milk to in the night, how can I go that late?

I can’t even use it as an escape. Maybe this is a silly thing, but when you can’t do normal things it becomes big to you.

I just want to go lay on the sofa now and cry. Pathetic I guess, but I feel trapped again. Stuck somewhere I can’t be me and be normal.

Eventually I make myself do a 40 second plank. Then 19 push ups and 45 chair dips.

After that I discover the film is also being shown on the weekend at 1pm both days. That’s it though for day showings. It still sucks, but it’s better than nothing and I can hopefully get to see it.

Day 6 Fri 19^th Feb – There’s only a run marked on my diary today. Everything else is marked as a rest day. I am both relieved and disappointed. A strange combination I know. I bounce between them all morning.

The running is tonight but Alex is working late. In the end I swap the workout for today and tomorrow. This mean the run gets moved. I don’t mind.

I do the 45 second plank while Miss Peanut is napping. I did 20 push up when she was awake. My mistake. She decided it was fun to sit on Mummy’s back while I did them.

The child is 13 kgs. I made it to two before I couldn’t move. In the end I had to keep telling her to bring me different toys, just so she would leave me alone to get it done. I survived.

I procrastinate with the chair dips, but eventually get 50 done.

Today I throw myself into my writing. It helps as I lose myself in my characters and storylines. It’s not always easy to do, especially with a toddler on the loose.

Normally I just write during Miss Peanut’s nap times and when she’s gone to bed. It’s my therapy through words. My little bit of freedom to express myself. I stick on her favourite cartoons and manage to get 20 mins to myself. These moments are precious to me. I love her to bits, but need my space to.

My stories are flowing. I’m falling in love with my characters a little more each time. One day hopefully I might share them with the world.

Day 7 Sat 20^th Feb – Weekends are the worst for me to exercise. Alex is home and I tend to get extremely lazy. We end up going to the little mall we like. I eat to much as I always do on weekend. I planned to have no dinner, but Alex announces we are having pizza tonight. He doesn’t seem to understand when I say I don’t want dinner I’m fine. I guess that comes from living with an Italian.

I sneak into the bedroom in the afternoon to get my 45 sec plank done.

Then I do 21 push ups to. Miss Peanut is at the door. Her little face pressed up against the frosted glass. I do these quickly. You can’t really take it slow with a toddler stalking you. She knows I’m in her. There is no escape.

The 50 chair dips I get grudgingly done. They are done in the bathroom, while Peanut is distracted with cartoons. I hate these, but I know their good for me.

I have to invent new ways to keep the kid distracted. It’s not always easy.

My kindle then decides to inexplicably die. Dead as a door nail. It’s been my faithful companion for over a year and half. I google on it, read books, use face book, twitter. It feels like I have lost an extension of myself. It’s abandoned me.

Why me? That’s what I ask myself. Why do these things happen to me when things start going right?

Yes I get a little depressed. Alex is on hand though to have a look at it. He does some googling and then arranges for me to have another one. Somehow he wrangles me a free one. Don’t ask me how. But my deceased kindle is to be replaced on Thursday. I am happy again. He is a miracle worker.

I have a mile and half run to do that I couldn’t do yesterday. I keep procrastinating. It gets to 6.40pm. I prefer to run in the dark at this stage. Less people can see me.

In the end I go out and run it. It’s a good run I don’t stop running until it’s done. My head fills with story ideas as I run. I wonder why I stopped running for so long when it feels this good.

Reading back through my daily posts this is starting to sound like a diary. That’s ok if this is how it’s going to go. I am being honest and open. It’s something I feel I need to do. I have hidden behind a sad smile long enough. Writing is therapeutic or so they say.

I don’t know if it will be like this every week. I guess I will have to wait and see.

So week one accomplished with its ups and downs.

One Year.

It’s my birthday today.

I am 39 years old.

All I can do is stare at myself in the bathroom mirror and think f@#k.

The white is showing in my hair because I have yet to re-dye it red. I look tired, circles under my eyes. The weight I had lost in October has crept back on because I haven’t been running solidly in a month and a half.

The excuses are there in my head. It’s been to dark, to cold and unappealing. I can only run in the evenings because that’s all the handful of time I have free to do such a thing.

My friend Jess has even tried to motivate me. She’s been trying to get back into running, as her motivation levels are low to. I know I’m not the only one drowning in the lack of get up and go.

Heck we both decided to do a 5km plan and keep each other running. I made it to day two before my motivation fizzled out.

It’s not that I can’t do it. My body, my legs are happy to go. They feel strong and can run far.

It’s my mind that’s holding me back. Those demons and arguments in your head that tell you not to both, that you’re too tired to go, what’s the point, it’s too cold, it’s raining, it’s too dark.

That I’m never going to get back to where I was, running 10k’s and enjoying it.

They rattle about inside my head stopping me from going out and running.

It’s not just motivation I lack. I admit it freely I have depression.

Like a big smothering cloud hanging over my head. Sometimes I have good days and others are not so good. Emotionally some days I can be a total mess.

Sometimes I don’t want to get out of bed. I just want to lay there and sleep. Do nothing. Be nothing. But I can’t do that. I am a wife. A mum. So I get up and function.

I feel like I’m drowning inside, but I can see everyone around me. I’m choking on it and no one can see it.

I know most of it stems from being a stay at home Mum. It’s just me and Peanut almost 24/7, 7 days a week.

I can’t do anything without her at my side. Me time is so very hard to get most of the time. She’s my baby girl and I love her to bits. I would never ever change having her. It can wear me down some days though and I miss my family in the UK at times dreadfully. Having no family here and it’s only the three of us can be extremely hard.

Depression I guess just started creeping slowly up on me and it just got worse. Maybe it was postnatal depression at the beginning, as it had its claws in me for a few years now.

Last year was pretty bad. It dulled all my other emotions and sometimes I just felt numb. Other times I would crawl into a ball and sob my eyes out. Everything felt overwhelming, raw. Emotions so strong they poured through me and I couldn’t stop them.

I wore a smile that never reached my eyes.

I used to be such a positive person. I was always the one who could turn a bad situation into a good one. I was always cheerful. HAPPY.

Somehow I have let the depression eat me alive inside.

I don’t know who the woman in the mirror is anymore. She won’t look me in the eyes.

But I am at the point enough is enough. I need to fight and find some stable ground. I have to fix this. Me because no one else can.

I’m looking at myself /Her in the mirror long and hard. This has to change. I know this can’t go on.

I know I need a swift kick in the butt to get myself moving, to shake this dark cloud over me. I need to claim some positivity back.

So I make a promise with myself.

I have one year to get in the best shape ever. If I succeed and failure at this point it not an option, on my 40^th birthday next February I will do something big just for me. Something outrageous, stupendous, something to celebrate.

I know getting in shape won’t fix it all, but it is a start. If I feel good about myself, starting being a positive light again then other things will follow.

I will use my diary and mark what I do for fitness every day. These can’t be half arsed things. I need to make an effort. Maybe set some goals.

Heck I will even do a 365 days of fitness and blog and Instagram it if that helps.

Anything to get me where I need. I will reach for dreams I still have and set about trying to make them a reality.

I have to do this. No I NEED to do this. I need to stop myself from drowning. I need to save myself.

So today I start.

Review: Dolce – Rome

Last sunday was date day once again. Miss Peanut was safely installed at the babysitter having fun.

We had decided to do lunch at a place called Dolce. We had walked past it a few times and it looked quite swanky with chairs out front with furry cushions and rugs.

When we got there, the outside part was packed so we knew we wouldn’t be sitting outside. There was a hostess who greeted us with a big friendly smile. We had to give our name, then she radioed inside to see if there were seats.

I know what your thinking. Radios? yup. It was that kind of posh place. Suddenly i realised we might be eating posh nosh.

The place was packed. It was teeming with Italian’s out for food. Young care free youths, families with kids, even Grandmothers.

The hostess directed us upstairs, where we were met by yet another host. We were given a table for two near a window. The place was loud so we had to raise our voices a little if we wanted to talk.

The menu was a little fancy. My first look at it and i was tempted with the lobster sandwich. It is something i have always wanted to try. The only thing that put me off though was the squid ink bread. I don’t have a clue what this tastes like and as the sandwich was rather expensive i decided it was better not to try it then discover i might not like it.

They had an assortment of things. Burgers, pancakes, sandwiches, bagels, French toast, salads just to name a few. And of course there were cakes.

The name ‘Dolce’ in Italian means sweet. The restaurant is mainly know for its cakes or so i have heard.

Our waiter when he arrived was baby faced and clean shaven. He seemed to be the only one. All the other male waiters had fashionable beards or stubble.

I think it was kind of obvious what Alex was going to order straight away. He went of course for the burger, which included an egg and bacon.

I was tempted by bagels and also pancakes. In the end though i settled for the chicken burger.  The waiter than asked us if we were having a dessert to. I  guess as the place was so busy he wanted to know to make it all quicker.

Alex found apple pie on the menu. My eyes lit up at the thought. This was something i had not had in years and loved. So in the end we both ordered apple pie.

We stuck to tap water for drinks.

I kept glancing around, still awed that the place was so busy. Everyone was chatting away and eating. The table of Nonni (Grandparents) behind us were busy taking photos of their food on their phones. It made me chuckle as they were probably facebooking and instagramming away.

It took a little while for our food to arrive, but when it did we were both stunned.

The burgers were sky high. Huge and packed with the fillings that had been stated on the menu.

As i mentioned this seemed like a posh place. We looked at each other not quite sure what to do.

Alex leaned across and told me we couldn’t just eat with our hands. That he could see people using knives and forks.

Me, i just smiled. Burgers are meant to be eaten by hand and there was no way i was going to change that. But i did know how to make it easier. Grabbing the knife i hacked away until my monster burger lay in half. This made it so much easier to get hold of.

Seeing my idea, Alex soon followed suit and cut his in half to. We still used our hands but we weren’t dislocating our jaws trying to get the entire burgers in our mouths.

The chicken in mine was nice and tender and it wasn’t over powered by barbecue sauce. I even had a nice piece of crispy bacon inside that i enjoyed.

Alex had a little trouble with his as it kept falling apart. He did look like he was enjoying it though.

There were no condiments on the table, no salt, or ketchup which was a little annoying. The burgers though did come with some homemade sauces. The mayo was lovely and very flavoursome. The homemade ketchup i did not really enjoy. I found it a little bitter.

Maybe my palate has been ruined by the bottled ketchup, which is probably true in a way. After years of Heinz it should not be surprising.

The chips were more like potato wedges, they were humongous. Even Alex was surprised at the size.

I have to admit though, i did not enjoy them so much. They lacked a little taste, maybe even some salt would have been nice. Maybe they tasted plain after all the flavours of the burger, i just was not sure.

So i ate my burger and had a few wedges i did not manage to eat them all. I knew dessert was still left to come.

Our dishes were soon cleared away and then we had a little wait. People were coming and going around us like a flowing and ebbing tide. The plates of food which passed always held my interest. It let me have a tempting look at other things i could have ordered.

Finally our apple pies arrived.

They smelt amazing. That was my first little delight. Taking my spoon i delved into the lovely crumbly thick crust. The layer beneath was soft and the smell of apples and other things had my mouth watering.

My first bite was epic. Seriously. I have not tasted a better apple pie in a very long time. And the icecream just added to the experience.

The apples were sweet, i thought i could taste cinnamon and a mix of spices, sultana’s also met my taste buds. It tasted like coming home. A warm comfy blanket of yumminess.

All i could do was hum my pleasure, while i sat there having a mouth orgasm. It was like the pie was making love to my senses.

Even Alex sat before me rolling his eyes with enjoyment.

It was all just so darn good that you couldn’t just leave one bite not eaten. About then it was that i decided if we ever came to ‘Dolce’ again i would just order desserts. No other food just all the sweet stuff.

It would probably end in a sugar coma but it would be an extremely happy one.

We sat in our haze of over indulgence. Both of us by now were to full to even look at more food.

Right at that point the next table recieved a plate of thick dark chocolate cake. Alex groaned and had to tear his eyes away, it was all to much for him.

We ended up spending about 50 euros for the whole meal. A little expensive but sometimes its nice to slurp a little.

Alex managed to have a nice cup of coffee which he really enjoyed.

After that we waddled out for a walk to try and burn off all the calories we had manage to consume.

I would say ‘Dolce’ is worth the desserts. The other food is good don’t get me wrong but the sweets and cakes are the things i would tell people to go there to enjoy.

http://www.dolce-roma.com/home/home.asp#home