Excuse me...this is NOT what I ordered.

Apparently, change - even the good kind that makes you feel like you're getting to know the real you for the first time in your life - sucks...at least every once in a while and in a rather nasty way. I'm in a mood best described by the weather outside: cold, wet, gray, bitter, unpleasant, unwelcoming, sunless, miserable, blech. That last one is the scientific term for it - I looked it up.

From Urban Dictionary: "blech"
A) a sound used to describe boredom, or mediocrite;
B) to find something wholly offensive as to want to throw up
to purge the sensation from the mind and/or body;
C) average
D) a superior form of blah
E) to feel gross, disgusting, depressed or icky

This mood caught me off guard. I've been feeling like a million bucks. Actually, I've been feeling like whatever makes a million bucks look at itself and say, "Dang. Guess I'm not such hot $%#$ afterall." I've felt invincible, smart, funny, energetic, with it, intriguing...heck, even sexy. So waking up Saturday morning and feeling like the whole world can kiss my newly appreciated #$% was completely unexpected! It was so unexpected that I went back to bed for another couple of hours. Finally, around noon, I decided I had to get out of bed. I went to the kitchen, made myself a sandwich, and sat down on the couch to play a little "Angry Birds" (stupid addictive game). TWO HOURS later I looked at the clock and felt miserable for wasting so much of my day. Especially since super-fantastic me had done such a bang up job of putting all my to dos on the calendar Friday night with little reminder alarms that kept going off. At 2:30p, I finished "Angry Birds" - that is I finished the entire game not just a round of playing it - and decided that I had wasted enough time. Now it was time to....

...slowly fall over and take a nap on the couch. I slept for FIVE HOURS. As a budding therapist, I would diagnose myself with mild depression (if not a touch of Bipolar Mood Disorder given the highs I experienced for the last week or so). I finally woke up, went to the kitchen...and ate. That's right, ladies and gentleman. I found myself on the same life schedule as a 2-week old. Eat, sleep, poop, repeat. I felt like a miserable zombie. The memory of my glorious personal breakthroughs was nowhere to be found. I did have a brief moment...a window...when I was sitting in that dang Poang chair (you remember the one) staring at the TV and trying to decide what to eat next when I heard Geneen Roth's words from Women, Food and God: "What am I really hungry for? I don't really want food. What feelings am I trying to avoid?"

The answer came back quick and fierce: "Miserable loneliness and depression, you stupid cow! Now get out of my way. I can't see the TV and I'm late for my every-fifteen-minute trek to the fridge to sigh in disgust while selecting another thing to eat that will only make me feel worse."

That tirade was quickly joined by a chorus of: "YEAH! The good times rolled, all right. They rolled right on past like they always do and now we feel like crap so shut up and leave us alone!" ("us"? Who the heck is "US"? Of course, I didn't catch that at the time.) I finally went to bed at 2:30am feeling even worse than I had when I woke up.

This morning (Sunday), I was grouchy as ever. I deliberately walked through the office instead of the dining room to avoid speaking to my roommate. It wasn't his fault. I just realized I would just as soon dig his eyeballs out of his head with my fingernails and dance around the house screeching as say "good morning" to him. Staying away seemed like the nicest thing I could do for us both. Naturally, he came into the office and said, "good morning." I think I grunted something like, "One step closer and I'll peel your face like a banana and set your hair on fire." Only I think it came out, "mornin'". Either way, he got the hint and went back to the dining room.

I decided I had to get out of the house. Clearly, being in this space yesterday proved disastrous. It seemed like lunch out and some time reading in the library would help me escape the mood monster that had taken up residence in my mouth (if not my mind). I gathered my things and reluctantly told my roommate where I was going. He said he'd like to tag along to everything but the reading. I enjoy his company and thankfully the kinder part of me saw this as an opportunity to grab onto something positive to help pull me out of the rotten mood I was in. We headed out to lunch at my new favorite neighborhood cafe (Cherry House Cafe) and proceeded to order another artery-clogging meal (a staple on the M.U.C. diet plan) complete with a side of ranch dressing. Halfway through the meal I realized I'd been bitching and moaning about the wait staff since we walked in - not exactly the beaming recommendation that makes a friend want to return to a place. I finally tried to just make myself shut up.

As we finished lunch and I started making a grocery list, I decided on a personal goal for the week that really brought my feelings to a head. This week I intend to eat at home all week - no restaurants, no excuses. I immediately felt panicky and began to whine like a toddler. It was embarrassing and horrifying to realize that a grown, intelligent woman could be reduced to a whiny pile of brat at the mere suggestion of doing something she herself wants to do. How does this make sense? What the heck is wrong with me? What happened to the girl who sees her value and wants to be the amazing creature God made her to be? Why do I resist every positive step I try to take? Why don't I want to run with the same enthusiasm I've felt all week into the loving arms of better eating habits and saving money by not eating out? #$%&^#$)#&@$*!!!!!

I didn't have answers. I just grumbled. I grumbled as I created my shopping list. I grumbled through the grocery store. I grumbled as we filled our water jugs at the amazing water place (that isn't the poisonous orange mess that comes out of the tap at my house). I grumbled as I unpacked the groceries and headed to the computer. I grumbled as I started writing this blog. I grumbled when I saw my brother's number on the phone and I grumbled as I picked up the phone and said, "hello."

His voice sounded cautious. He asked what I was doing and I mentioned the blog. He replied, "Ah. You sounded introspective." What a nice way of saying, "Wow. Could you be less friendly when you answer the phone?" Thankfully, his voice and the stories he tells had the same effect they always do - I started to feel happy again. It was like the snarly monster had snuck out the back door while I wasn't looking. We talked briefly about the benefits of writing stuff down and how helpful it can be to just get stuff out of you. Maybe that's what happened. Maybe writing this blog and giving my snarly feelings a place to exist allowed me to let them go. Maybe my brother will start biting the heads off kittens because my "dark passenger" (as Dexter would call it) passed through the phone to him and away from me. Maybe the chemicals in my brain have shifted. Maybe the cookie I ate at lunch really is the magic cureall for my problems and eating one everyday will keep those feelings at bay.

I don't know where the misery came from or where it's gone. I only know that two things were different in this dark cloud than in those I've experienced in the past: (1) I noticed what was happening and took steps - though not perfect ones - to minimize the damage to others; and (2) I kept going. I didn't let the whining and crying over how much I hate the idea of eating at home alone all week stop me from buying healthy food at the grocery store and adding "no restaurants this week" to my list of weekly goals to share with my accountability partner tomorrow morning. The mood didn't win. It was there. I weathered it. Now I'm heading back toward the super-fantastic feelings I had last week. I'm not letting this stupid mood wreck the progress I've made. I'm not less of a person because I couldn't maintain perfect happiness everyday. My transformation isn't a failure because sometimes I'd rather kick a puppy than pet one. I just have to chain up the beast, wait for the full moon to pass and then return to polite society.

Two things I'll leave you with:
(1) I'm starting a new segment I'm calling "Check this out!" on the sidebar of my blog. Basically, I'm going to showcase new things I discover. Maybe I'll share it because it's super useful, maybe it will be ridiculous and just has to be seen by others, maybe it's completely cheesy and just deserves a good laugh. I think you'll like this week's discovery: "Wrench Mints. When your breath is broke...Fix It!" (seriously! I couldn't make that up.); and

(2) HELP ME! I have decided to eat at home this week and I hate eating at home. I hate feeling alone. I hate taking time to cook. I hate washing dishes. Still, I can't let all my excuses keep me from making healthier and less expensive choices. So PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE share any and every idea you've got for how I can survive this week. I'll take menu suggestions, recipes, hints & tips, songs to play while I eat, things to do to psych myself up each day, ANYTHING! Please share your ideas in the comments section below.

Thank you for reading and sharing in my journey. If you are a local friend, please don't let me invite you out to dinner this week. But if you'd like to come over I'd be happy to cook and we can eat at the table like humans (instead of in front of the TV like the people who are destined to be future contestants on "The Biggest Loser").

Very much still Under Construction!
~MUC