What am I willing to Do For Myself?

Or, why the fuck am I not taking better care of myself?

I am in that category of “a woman of a certain age”… Hell, I am 54. I turn 55 May 2, 2018. I love my birthday. Those in my circle all around the world know how much I love my birthday. So, you would think I would be in the best of health, seeing how I love living another year and celebrating such every year.

It’s as if I am oblivious to the fact that I am human and need tending to. I am not the focus of myself. This is not a new lament. It shows up as weight loss efforts. It shows up as “I gotta get more sleep” because I only get about 4 hours a night. It shows up in managing high blood pressure and all the other “what ails me” shit.

I know what needs to be done. I am not at a loss for information and support and, Gawd, more information. I don’t seem to be able to “self-help” myself into any consistency or discipline. Why can't I just focus and press through? Why is this so fucking hard.

I've blogged about this over the years... My blog archives are filled with posts about motivation, dedication, moving as I see fit. Here I am back to being stuck. Maybe some of this is New Year pressure. Some it could be self-worth shit rearing up again.

I may be mixing two very different things into one bowl. What does taking care of myself really mean? And would I recognize the efforts? What is good health for me? Maybe I have too many unrealistic health goals that have nothing to do with health. I gotta think about this from a different perspective. In the meantime, I'll make a plan.

I'll keep you posted.