Hands up, who loves getting new stuff? I do, and it doesn’t even matter what it is, there’s something about a new thing that makes me want to look after it. Remember at school when you got to the end of your dog-eared tatty exercise book, full of wonky handwriting that you only half concentrated on because you were usually multi-tasking and watching the drama unfold in your favourite soap whilst you were doing your homework?
Whenever my book ran out and the teacher gave me a chitty for a new one I used to get so excited. Page after page of smooth white paper with no tatty corners or red pen circling spelling bloopers. And no doodling! Most of my school books ended up with a car crash on the front cover, you know the kind of thing…a succession of boys’ names in crossed-out love hearts complete with arrows and my attempt at cherubs.
To be honest my cherubs usually looked more like gargoyles, but when I look back at my chequered love life, even in my teenage years it had disaster written all over it so you know what, maybe when the plan for my life was written in the stars they were fresh out of cherubs? Just sayin’.
Anyway, I used to start out in my new book with my very best handwriting. I drew my margins using a ruler instead of the usual straight-as-a-dog’s-hind-leg slash with a pencil, and I’d try really hard to keep it pristine. Right up to the point that something spoiled it…all it took was an ink blot, or a bent corner that I’d squashed as I rooted around in the bottom of my school bag in the hope of finding a loose hob-nob. And once it was spoiled, I stopped caring. I mean it didn’t matter any more, because it was already spoiled, right?
I’m having a bit of a light bulb moment as I write this, because if I apply the same principle to the way I’ve thought about dieting over the years, it’s exactly the same. And I’d put bets on the fact that some of you are nodding along. It’s been a consistent trigger for me, probably the biggest one I’ve got. I’ve had a cheat? Ah, well that’s the diet down the drain then, no point carrying on with it today, I’ve blown it. I’ll start again on Monday.
I need to process that revelation, and wrap my head around how to boot the asshole out of my thought process…re-engineer my thinking, you know in favour of something less destructive. I could agree a new set of ground rules with myself, like if I get right back in the saddle and follow up my moment of weakness with three clean days, those three days will act as an eraser to rub out my mistake and then some, like it never happened? Because the reality is, it probably would,and nothing needs to be spoiled…that’s just the asshole voice, doing what he does best and distorting my perspective.
I’m so optimistic about this year. Right now, 2016 is stretching way ahead in front of us, like a brand spanking shiny new slate to write on. There’s no stains on it, no crossings out and no dog-ears in sight. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to look after mine, make sure that it stays shiny and unspoiled.
And if it doesn’t? Well, I’ve signed up to the new rules. So no need to panic, we’ve got it covered 🙂
