Over the holidays plus a couple months, I’ve been eating whatever I want and skipping the gym.  I found four pounds, and I’m starting to feel like a lump.  Since I moved to the apartment with a gym over week ago, I’ve used it once.  I talked through many excuses today then finally lifted weights.  It felt great, reminding me that working out makes me happy and helps beat away depression.

I also found some great workout songs.  Bringing me again back to music as one of my most important treatments.   Here’s to building momentum in the quest to move more and eat less.

I’ve read that lithium affects weight, but since I’ve been on it since I was sixteen, I have little frame of reference for side effects.  I also know my weight has a lot more to do with loving food and body image issues planted long ago.  Eating mindfully and shaking my tail is the best way I know to feel better, so I’m getting back on track.

I want to get off.  I skipped blogging on Saturday, because we were unpacking after a very fast move.  Both my husband and I got sick.  At work, it has been confirmed that my job is going to change a lot next year.  On the positive side, I adore the new apartment, and I look forward to the next 15 months.  Tonight, we walked home and went to the gym in the building.  I forgot how much I love lifting weights.  It has been an on-and-off-again passion since high school.  I love the independence and the workout music.

I’ve been meditating again now that things are normalizing a bit.  I’m currently sitting by a salt lamp and listening to “La vie en Rose”.  Simmering down before bed.

This week, I’m turning 40.  Having bipolar disorder and making it to 40 feels like an accomplishment.  Tragically, we have a dismally high suicide rate.  I’m grateful for my loved ones, medication and occasional therapy.  I’m also grateful for my own strength and choices.

Sending peace and comfort into the world.

Good night.

I love the the lights, Christmas music, and joy in December.  It feels like mania lite.  When I was young, Christmas felt like the time of year when all of the dysfunction was shelved and magical things could happen.  My whole family seemed to get along, or at least fake it for the sake of the holiday.  A few years back, my mother was dying during Christmas season.  I remember hearing sooo much Christmas music and thinking it would be ruined forever for me.  Thankfully, it held its magical properties.  I even listen sometimes out of season when I’m feeling down.

Things are moving quickly this Christmas season.  I’m moving to a new apartment in less than a week, and my brother is here visiting in our current tiny apartment.  I’m also turning 40 this month.  Yikes, I don’t think I’ve typed that before.  I’m worried that I’m overreaching this month.  Good and bad stressors are swirling in my brain.  I don’t have much to write today about bipolar disorder right now, I’m too drawn to the annual viewing of “A Christmas Story”.