2. I've followed up a month of writing about my father by launching into a month of writing about an even more emotionally destruction relationship: the scale. Yesterday I had the epiphany that if I stick to paleo/just eat real food/don't binge/no gluten/no grains etc. I won't gain much weight, but unless I go back to heavy calorie restriction, I'm not going to lose much either.
This is probably what my body is going to be like. It's better than my high bottom of 191, but it's not ever going to be waif-like, sub-130 of my father's or my dreams. Even if I did go back to the stupidity of low-fat, calorie counting etc. it's possible I've broken my metabolism so badly with yo-yo dieting that I might not lose it all again anyway.
I'm not sure I can accept it.
3. I'm still not great at Yoga, but I've really felt like I was making progress. Today, Astrud was subbing for Minerva and teaching what felt like a pretty gentle class, and then she just threw in this asana that my legs couldn't do. It just wasn't going to happen and the more she tried to help me adjust the worse it got. Very discouraging. I'm not giving up. I love my yoga and my kirtan and meditation, but it's depressing to hit a physical wall like that.