Happy Saturday!

I know my more recent days have been every other Thursday. But my current script consumed me this last one. I’ll also be honest that it’s been one helluva script to write since it’s basically putting my life in a blender and running it through my subconscious instead of the traditional spin cycle. And let me tell you: It’s been a wild ride.

Except

I’m not writing in detail about that script today because it not done yet despite being 145 pages long with more to go. Uh, yeah. I haven’t written a script this long since my very first one from before the first Ice Age ever. Yes. I’m that old. Just kidding.

It’s more this… The last few years have been hard as fuck for different reasons. I won’t go into the details because there are more than sand grains on Santa Monica Beach. Okay. That’s maybe that’s a tad melodramatic. But I do have one saving grace: I have resisted the urge to cut bangs. This has prolly been harder than coping with all the weight that I gained.

I digress. It’s more that my extra poundage is the manifestation of my exhaustion, hormones, long-term effects from psychotropic medications, and stress. And well… total transparency: CAKE. Lots and lots of cake. See: I quit drinking in 2004 when I moved to Mexico. As a single woman traveling alone, I figured it was best to stay sober since I spoke a different primary language. And this proved to be a Godsend along with the fact that swear words are the first Spanish words that I learned. Being silly yes. It’s also that I don’t the feeling of being tipsy or drunk if I’m honest.

Here’s the thing though… My body processes processed sugar like alcohol. And it’s been my escape from all my burnout. My point is not to make excuses. It’s more to come clean: I don’t recognize myself in the mirror due to the fact that this is the heaviest that I’ve been in my life. It’s true that I can carry my weight better than some. This does not change the fact that I’m still a super chubster. Body positivity and not fat shaming are huge right now. Yes. There is a pun intended ‘cuz I’m calling myself out rather than fat shame:

It’s more to call a spade a spade.

I know. I know. It seems easy enough to tell someone to set the cake down and slowly back away. Here’s the thing about being the one with the cake: It’s my security blanket right up there with Albertson’s fried chicken and Cadbury Creme Eggs.

Yes. Transparency.

I’m also not writing this to garner sympathy or offer excuses. It’s more to acknowledge that I let my life become the mess that it is and let my waistline reflect that to the world

And I’m okay with owning my extra weight and all-around messiness. But I’m also ready to pick up my own pieces. I know that I tried a year of not eating processed sugar. It turned out to be far worse: I ate even more highly processed food: The Keto non-sugar sugar. That shit screws you up even more than gummy bears, lots and lots of gummy bears with good old fashion corn syrup and sugar.

So… I’m just going to find a quiet corner (without cake) and write out my plan to put my life back together in a way where processed sugar isn’t my favorite escape or drug or booze or anything other than a special treat meant to be shared.

I’ve now rambled enough. Let me know your thoughts. Hugs and kisses! Have a wonderful Saturday or Sunday depending on where you are in the world!

Best,

Holly

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