post scriptum

 and as silly and childish as this is: he shouldn't have kissed me. I was used to men not being attracted by me, it was okay. He did wake up the monster that had been sleeping for so long.

So I do blame him for this

Taking over me (voices in my head)

 Mischief has disappeared again, which is completely expected because he's at home and not travelling.

The whatsapp chat lays empty (because he's a psychopath obsessed by confidentiality and has set the option that deleted messages older than 7 days). I am trying (and succeeding so far you may say) not to reach out. But what do I get from my succeeding in not reaching out?

Not much honestly

Do I think less about him? I probably do, like 5% less. Not materially lee I would say. Meaning I still think about him a lot.

I am not proud of this and I do not think this is smart. To quote Evanescence, "but who can decide what they dream, and dream I do".

 

I think part of the problem is I now feel again I have "a right to win". Again, I'm not proud of myself, but let me explain.

Over the past few years I never felt beautiful or sexy or anything and would never have imagined a man to be interested in me. Men simply did not see me, and it's funny how sometimes the bigger you become, the more invisible you get.

 

However, I should probably mention that at some point in my late teenage years, I realized I could (at the time) step in any room and if I decided I wanted a specific man, there was a 95% probability I could have him. (Not something I am proud of, unsurprisingly, but this is the honest truth, based on statistical evidence). Unsurprisingly that revelation changed my life because I previously had been invisible (ugly duckling anyone?).

 

Now let's not dwell on my young years, but the reality is that now men see me again. I'm not claiming I could have anyone I wanted (I also do not want anyone really!) but now men SEE me again. I get a lot of compliments both from people I see daily and from people who do not know me, and I have found again self confidence, which in turns generates attention. Which is funny really because hey, I'm still the same person, I still dress every day in jeans, a button down shirt (and a leather jacket now the Indian summer we've had is over) and sneakers. Every single day.

 

And the part of myself I despise most keeps telling me that things would be different if I had had the current looks back in Mountain View and in San Francisco.

 

Which is probably not true because in the (according to the rationale part of me) the reason Mischief does not want to meet me is he is a good man who has a family and does not want to cheat on his wife. But the voices in my head say that no, I was ugly and fat, I'm still ugly and fat, and they would only be sedated by him drooling on me I guess. At least they would be sedated for five minutes.

 

The worst thing in this messy thoughts is that on a lot of awkward situations I am able to understand if my neurodivergence is spiking or if I'm reacting like a "normal" person, but when it comes to anything that is sexual or romantic I really don't know.

 

I just know I should stop obsessing but I cannot seem to move forward. If I let the communications die, I may just start idolizing him into someone that doesn't even exist. Chasing a man is somewhat below my dignity.

 

Song for this post: "Taking over me", Evanescence

Not yet there, it seems

 Went to the dietician this morning, weighted at 57.5kg (126.7lbs, BMI 19.9).

While my BMI could be lower, I have honestly developed a certain level of muscles over the last 6 months. I may not be able to do pull-ups, but I can do unassisted chin-ups (ok, 3 or 4 depending if I'm rested or not, but still).

This to say, I honestly expected to receive a "maintenance" diet, a pat on my shoulder and a goodbye.

Instead, he said I should try to reach 55kg (121.2lbs - BMI 19). And gave me another appointment in 40 days. I am kind of wondering (provided I meet the target) if at that point he'll say that 53 would be even better considering then the Christmas season brings a lot of food, and maybe then why not make it 50?

I'm probably nasty, but I was honestly surprised.

On a different topic, we're having an Indian summer and I spent the weekend wearing short jeans, thinking it was likely the last chance to show off the legs. Husband muttered all the time (he would prefer me all covered up in baggy clothes of course), but honestly it was too warm for anything else. I don't recall ever such a warm weather in October, but considering I go to work by bike, I'm not complaining. At least we've had sex over the weekend, after a dry spell of September.

Ok, I'm dancing around what's going on. The last few days have been a bit difficult, with a friend from work who called me crying after stepping out of an MRI (I knew he was going for it) where they found him a prostrate cancer, my neighbor visiting yesterday after she's had a brain tumor removed two weeks ago, and a client who called me on Friday to announce he'll be off for a while for pretty much the same reason. Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely grateful that Husband, I and our families are overall in good health, and I'm also humbled that these people trust me to talk about private matters. It's just I struggle to find words to console them, I wish I could do more although I perfectly know the best I can do is to listen to them when they need to talk to someone.

Finally, I have not been writing about Mischief but he's not disappeared from my life. As Bath suggested, I'm clearly the emotional crutch and he writes me any time he's not home. I wish I could say I don't think about him, but that would be a lie.

Song for this post: "Say it right" by Nelly Furtado

Too much

 I spent last week in Munich attending work internal meetings and I got a bit too wild. Oktoberfest was in full swing and spent two nights there, the first one in a large tent where I barely touched any alcohol, and the second in a small posh tent where champagne (Ruinart) was literally flowing from 3 liters bottles. I touched no water. All was good until I left with another (female) partner to walk back to the hotel. There are no cabs in Munich during Oktoberfest, and the hotel was a good 40 minutes away. The first half was okay, then I started stumbling. At some point there were stairs and I missed one step, luckily near the bottom, but that was not cool. After that, I'd rather not tell.

The next day was literally awful, but at least that night I went back home.

Can you tell I'm overwhelmed by work? I also had a nasty cold for the last 25 days, which did not help.

I'm still trying to train but of course I have not kept up with the usual schedule of 6 trainings a week. Hopefully I'm getting back to it.

On a better news, on Sunday I was alone at the gym (husband had too much of a cold to come) and I suddenly realized as I was putting weights back in the rack that from a profile my 6 pack if finally noticeable. Front view we're still not there, but side view it's literally impossible to miss. 

This was pretty much the highlight of the month together with the Anyma show I went to with my nephew.

Weight wise: 57.5kg or 126.8lbs. BMI: 19.9

and yet my waist is slimmer than it was 10 years ago at a lower weight - my arms are bigger, which sucks but I guess if I insist with the pull-ups this is what I get. I have the dietician appointment next Monday and am in line with the target he gave me - let's see how it goes.

Song for this post: "Skyfall" by Adele

Thinking about the Horrors

 The Horrors is how I've come to define the 2021-2025 period, when I was always feeling unwell and all doctors told me I just had to lose weight and be less stressed (and then it turned out I have a womb tumor that was affecting all my body). If I have to recap 2026 so far, I got diagnosed, started treating the issue, starting feeling like a champ (ok like before 2020) and got in the best shape of my life. I also lost 22kg or 48lbs since my highest weight.

The reason I'm writing this is that a difficult part of the process was getting over the fact that I feel I wasted 4 years of my life and that it could have been avoided with just a simple, harmless scan had any gynecologist actually listened to me. 

I do not intend to dwell any further on this, my goal is to enjoy my life as much as I can, but today I'm sick (I have a step throat) and here's the thing: except for the throat ache, today I feel exactly how I felt almost daily over those 4 years:

- back pain

- hurting knee

- every step feels miserable on my joints

- standing up from a chair feels taxing

- overall miserable and prone to tears

(at least I'm not bleeding by hey). The main difference is I know by tomorrow I'll feel better and by the end of this week I'll be back in my champion shape.

And guys I can positively tell you I am amazed at how I still got my shit together over those long painful years. I now forgive myself for the weight gain and for everything. Actually, I deserve a treat for how good I was (ok it will be a black decaf but still :-) )

Sometimes self forgiveness is also important.

Song for this post: "F**kin' Perfect" by P!nk