A Doozy of a Day

The funny thing about today was, I was looking forward to today so much, and it was just the culmination of a rough week.

I'd had a rough week of classes and just feeling off and rather lonely... not surprising considering I've only been here just under a month, and everyone speaks a different language. Last night I was supposed to work at the pub, but after classes that went from 8-6pm, I was tired, feeling antisocial and just not fit for human consumption. In a totally irresponsible act, I told them I didn't feel well and went home. There, I found nobody home (both a mixed blessing) and my host mother (in her typical fashion) had made a vegitarian-friendly dinner. Now, I've been good for the past few weeks. My family is happily carnivorous, and while we do eat vegetables, our meals tend to be fairly... simple. Some might even say boring. And my host family... well, they like to sample from every culture under the sun. The result is I've been exposed to a lot of new foods in the past few weeks... all unfamiliar, and while some of them were good, some of them I just can't decide if I like or not. But I've been flexible. I've tried things.

But last night I came home to a pot filled with... something. I wasn't quite sure what it was. It was virulent looking- a shade of red somewhere between vermilion and cranberry that was just asking to be spilled on my white shirt. It almost looked like... watered down blood in vibrancy of color with an undertone of pink instead of brown. And (to me) it was of a similar consistency- pureed into a soupy, thick mixture.

And I was good. I tried it. And while it wasn't bad, I sat there eating it, and suddenly, all I wanted was simple, easy chicken with corn and mashed potatoes. I ended up bawling, spilling on myself (I KNEW IT- luckily I changed my shirt), and crying even harder. I made myself boiled eggs, and indulged myself by not only eating the whites, but the yolk too. And then I ate some cashews and cried some more.

When my home stay mother came back later, I was recovered, and she insisted I try the soup again... this time with lemon and sour cream in it. Apparently it's made out of beets or radishes... I never could figure out which one, but I ended up liking it even less, on a totally emotional level.

So today I was looking forward to just a chill day where I could wash my clothes, do some work, and rest my mind. And I got on the scale this morning.

Now, I should also mention this. I've been avoiding my scale because it is low on batteries, and because my eating has been, quite frankly, out of control. I've all my life eaten to cope, especially with social problems. It probably goes back to all the moving I did as a child, and each time I found myself struggling to make friends, and being quite miserable, I ate to feel better. Now, for the last year I've been on Weight Watchers, and I've lost around 50 lbs (it's less now because I've been gaining, but that was at my best point). I'm coming to terms with the fact that for me, eating is an addiction, an unhealthy way I cope with being unhappy.

Well, anyway, I got on the scale this morning to find that I've gained eight pounds in the last four weeks. I've sensed and known that I've been gaining, but not this much. Needless to say, this depressed me quite a bit.

So that put a shadow on my day.

And I was still feeling low from last night.

So I worked up my resolve throughout the day, and decided that when I went out to cash my food subsidy check, I would also make another attempt to find Weight Watchers (called here ViktVaktarna). I very deliberately got directions, and set out.

Well, I got lost when trying to find the Bank, and ended up at their OFFICES, instead of a real bank. The lady at the offices was nice enough to tell me how to get to the bank, but by the time I got there, they had closed. I was four minutes too late. So now I don't have my food subsidy money. That whole process took an hour and a half. I thought it was only good to take 30 minutes, tops.

So I was now late going to ViktVaktarna. I had built in 30 minutes to find the place before they opened 30 minutes before the meeting started, because the place looked on the map a little difficult to find. Plus, not being able to read Swedish, I had difficulty with signs. Now I was racing to just get there for the meeting.

Guess what? Turns out there is a Kungstagatan and a Kungsgatan... and they are on opposite sides of the city. When I had went to get directions, I had went for the wrong street. TWO HOURS LATER, I give up, sit in a park, totally utterly lost, and try to call my mother to see if she can find where I am with Google maps, and help me get to Weight Watchers. No luck. I give up. Now I try to call my dad so I can have some help just calming down. No luck there either.

An old lady with a dog as big as she is comes over and tries to ask what is wrong (I think) but she doesn't speak any English, and I can only understand one word she's saying: du (you). She pats me on the back and eventually leaves. And then i go buy a Snickers bar and one of those really yummy rolls that you can buy at 7-eleven's in Sweden.

When old ladies in parks come to ask you if you're all right, you know you're at the lowest of low. Finally, I felt I'd gotten enough control of myself enough that I could ride the subway without getting undue attention. (Turns out I was wrong, I kept on getting strange looks from the silent people all dressed in dark clothes that looked at the crazy American who was rude enough to show undue emotion on the Subway of all places!)

Well, I took a look on the map to the subway and realized that the process of my getting lost had taken me about FIVE SUBWAY STOPS from where I started out. Trust me, it means I had walked a really far way.

And you know what, I leave the station, and the next one I pull into... Kungstagatan. Right there. After I'd spent two hours looking for it, and another thirty minutes bawling because I couldn't find it.

I got out, went to weight watchers, and went through the great experience of having a bunch of Swedish women look at me as if I was a novelty. AN AMERICAN? Who did Weight Watchers in the states? Let me see.

And I couldn't even stay for the meeting because I had to go to choir. And turns out they use a different system that I don't now how to use because I can't read the materials and I couldn't stay for the meeting. I dash to choir, (get lost again) find the place, and NOBODY's there.

I go back to the apartment. My host family mother tells me they're probably starting later because the director can't be there tonight. I GO BACK... and only the two guys are there. They're really nice, and try to include me, and I try to sing along, but I've only sang mostly classical, and mostly off of sheet music, and these guys are just picking tunes of of a song their listening to. Well, they try to include me, and I try to participate, and I end up having fun despite feeling like an ass because I don't know what I'm singing.

Right now, things are looking pretty down. I'm leaving for Gotland in the morning, and I have to be at the meeting space for 6:30... which means I need to be up obscenely early. I'm all packed (for the most part) and I'm hoping this all works out. I want to have fun, and I want to turn things around. I know part of the reason I'm feeling low is because I'm about to have my period, and another reason is because of my eating, and also just plain culture shock (which they warned us about but I didn't believe in).

So I'm heading to bed, and I'm hoping I'll have a better outlook in the morning.

That's all for now.