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16 March 2014
Sunday morning - March 16th. As I spent all of yesterday camped indoors I reflected on ‘how long has it been since I spent the entire day inside in my PJ’s? and after trying to think back beyond six weekends I heard the Wolf Brand Chili voiceover, ‘if you can’t remember, it’s been too long.’
Mushy is feeling better and finally eating. It seems to me, probably because I’m hypersensitive right now, that she is drinking more water than usual. But I’m countering that with ‘it could be the meds causing thirst’ and am relieved she’s returned from ‘listless sadville’ back to ‘alert and tail wagging’. Whew.
ATF is doing better as well. I continue to analyze some of the ways that I’d gone overboard and if this is a repeat I apologize but I feel like I’m returning to square one on being mindful about my eating and therefore the process has to begin back at the first chapter.
I’m extremely proud of myself for catching it this time in this phase of my journey.
Yes, I wrote that. Proud. Of. Myself. Something I rarely put into print. I am going to start accepting rather than deflecting compliments beginning with myself. I REFUSE, do you hear me universe? I REFUSE to acknowledge my accomplishments via tiptoe on eggshells waiting for the other shoe to drop anymore. As I shared with a dear friend the other day I now choose to imagine that if it does, it’ll give me a pretty pair of strappy sandals.
I believe it is the compulsive personality in me. When I’m eating healthy, I want to eat REALLY healthy and somehow forget ‘less is more’. I was so thrilled last year when I finally watched the documentary ‘Hungry for Change’ and decided to banish the ‘diet food’ with my plan to ‘eat food, real food, good food, just not too much of it.’
Obviously, I forgot that last direction. I was so thrilled with the fridge no longer looking like the bed in ‘It Happened One Night’ with a distinctive line between Cutty’s ‘real food’ and all of my ‘fat free, sugar free, low fat’ labels. This coincided with my weight loss continuing because I was eating more mindfully with portions, a decrease in processed food, absence of junk food and banishing of Fast Food so, of course, in the most illogical of processes that flowed into ‘if a little is okay, a whole lot more is better.’
Whole milk instead of 2%. Real butter. Avocados are good fat? Peanut butter and hummus are okay? Almonds are good for me? Bring ‘em on. Not bad, but again, all things in moderation. My ADD (I’m just too weary to be hyper about anything, LOL) seems to always forget the second part of the instructions.
Protein bars got me last time when I lost 150lbs in my 40’s. Eating them in the first place was completely illogical as I have never been one for exercise or working out. Hold the lecture. Meh, go ahead if you want. Someday an exercise lecture is going to spark me.
But, back then, as my only exercise was bending over backwards and pushing my luck, why did I feel the need for added protein? Because I got caught up in the the whole ‘muscle burns more weight than fat and protein and exercise builds muscle.’ Again, forgot the exercise part.
I’d rationalize ‘well, they’re healthier than a candy bar’ and no argument there. In moderation, Bells. You forgot that part again.
Regardless, back to my being proud of myself. I’m pleased ‘this time’, this part of my journey, I have stopped and reassessed my ‘map’ instead of drifting blindly down the River of Denial until I was too lost in the depression of failed regain to muster the initiative to turn the boat around.
Recording my food renewed the tool of ‘measurement’ for accuracy. I’d slipped there in both directions. I was overestimating volume (counting four oz as eight oz) but underestimating mass (counting four tablespoons as two). In the end it was likely a slight ‘wash’ calorically but nutritionally I can see the imbalance. Two extra tablespoons of peanut butter is not a nutritious swap for four less ounces of chicken.
Taking inventory of my fridge and pantry it struck me odd that the vegetable crisper is traditionally at the bottom; why is that? We all know vegetables should be the focus of any daily intake yet it’s the last drawer we get to on the vertical ladder of ‘I’m hungry, what do I have?’
So I’ll be resolving that with a few extra large pyrex dishes of fresh veggies placed up on the top shelf in plain view. I think I’ll use the crisper drawer for the cherry preserves and other quick and easy but calorically high though nutritionally low fridge items.
I love visiting this site; heck, forget that, I don’t visit, I live here. I’m the ultimate squatter. Your journals, thoughts and experiences inspire me. The prayers, comments, and support, it’s incredible. Yesterday I was inspired reading another dear friend’s journal to paint again. I titled one ‘Pure Joy’ because while painting it (abstract) I was trying to achieve a ‘fleck and splatter’ and had acrylic flying all over my makeshift studio, myself, in my hair and on my clothes. And I laughed. Outloud. For real. It was fun. Pure Joy. Such a wonderful (messy but wonderful) release.
I’d been so caught up in my self hatred the other day I’d completely glossed over acknowledging that my Yoga instructor actually stopped in to visit me. I was pleased with that alone as when I phoned to explain why I was skipping a few weeks she cut me off with ‘I’ll phone you later’ and that was … oh… three weeks ago?
She said she was just out walking but who knows. It was a nice visit and I showed her my home, including my ‘church’ behind the shop.
My home, even more so now with the decorating of the past three months, is the complete opposite of my shop. My shop has the look of a business that began about sixty years ago and has never changed; it gives the customer a feeling of legitimacy ala ‘dang, these folks have been here forever, they must know what they’re doing.’ Kind of like going to a Cracker Barrel but more dust.
Anyway, as Charlotte sat in the living room she looked around and commented, ‘that’s a beautiful painting, where did you get it?’ In my usual ‘surely she can’t be complimenting ‘ME’ self doubt voice I walked over to it and qualified, ‘this one?’ She nodded and I said, “I painted it.”
Her jaw dropped. At that point she stood and looked around the room and noticed more of my art. So we toured the home again as she viewed the rest of my paintings hanging throughout while she repeated, “my gosh, you’re really talented, you’re an artist.”
I didn’t deflect. I thanked her and pointed out my photography as well. She was stunned. So stunned she actually said, “I would have never thought you so talented” and I REFUSE to analyze that with ‘what DID you think about me?’ instead deciding to use that as a reminder to myself to not judge people on the surface. We never know what lies beneath that public person we view.
I may try to photograph and load ‘Pure Joy’ for viewing later. Right now I’m still curled up in the recliner with Mushy and just enjoying my morning. Hope you are as well.
Thank you for stopping by to visit with me.
Make Peace with Myself
15 March 2014
Saturday Morning - March 15th. After taking Mushy to the Vet yesterday I just closed the shop to rest on the bed and keep an eye on her. I read and reread your wonderful comments on my journal while stroking her tummy. I’m truly blessed to have you as my friends here. Truly. Blessed.
ATF yesterday was ‘okay’. Salad & leftover pork roast mid afternoon. In the evening I just felt a crazy hunger that three pints of water wasn’t curing so I cooked up a pot of soup with a lot of extra broth to sip. I have found that helps me settle the stomach growls and get my veggies in too. Before bed I satisfied a craving for sweets with a small serving of PB&J and Dulce de Leche but no oatmeal. I was really craving chocolate and expelled a huge 'DUH' this morning when I discovered the sugar free chocolate pudding mix still in the pantry. I didn’t make any as I’m no longer craving it but will TRY to remember it’s there next time. I did make a packet of the sugar free cherry jello and mixed in the chia seeds as I’m looking for a new way to get it besides oatmeal for a while. I've added it to my water bottle in the past and it's kind fun, like watching sea monkeys, but gels and is difficult to get through the neck of the bottle at times.
Reading the label reminded me of why my current mantra is ‘just because a little is good for you doesn’t mean a whole lot more is better’ and added this to my latest list of slippery excesses. The recommended daily serving is one tablespoon so naturally I’d been adding three daily. ::insert image of shaking head::
Mushy is ‘better’ in that she’s stopped throwing up after getting a shot to quell her nausea but hasn’t returned to my sweet little waggy tailed dog status. Though she’s drinking water she’s not eating yet. Not sure what got into her; the exam didn’t reveal anything. I’m supposed to be giving her pills for nausea for a couple of days but she has spit them out at me too many times for me to stick my fingers in that little mouth again. I’m settling for getting the phenobarb into her to prevent seizures unless she starts getting sick again.
Otherwise, it’s almost noon and I’m still in my PJ’s. We’re expecting severe rain and hail so I’ve decided to stay here in the recliner with my baby for now. I’ve been binging on Pinterest and found a great article on ‘taking care of yourself during a bad body image day’ so am sharing that with you as many of you shared that you have these days too. And I wanted to share a couple of ‘funnies’.
Wishing you all a warm wonderful Saturday.
HOW TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF DURING A BAD BODY IMAGE DAY:
1. Recognize that fat isn’t a feeling.
There are always underlying emotions that we attach to feeling fat. When the “I feel fat” thoughts start up, try to identify what you’re feeling underneath the body dissatisfaction. Are you feeling lonely? Anxious? Invisible? Scared? Ashamed? Inadequate? Whatever the feelings are recognize that they are separate from your body.
2. Treat yourself as you would a friend.
Because it’s difficult to be kind to ourselves in the moment when the body hating thoughts take over, try responding to your thoughts as if you were supporting a friend.What would you say to someone you loved who was battling your same struggle with body image?
You wouldn’t tell them to not eat for the day in order to compensate for what they ate the previous night. You wouldn’t tell them to punish themselves for their body size through over-exercise, self-harm, or abusive eating habits. You wouldn’t tell them they were worthless or unloveable because of their weight. So why do you tell yourself these things? Break the cycle and start treating yourself like a friend—you deserve that kindness and love from everyone, especially yourself.
3. Recognize that you are so much more than the size of your body.
What you look like does not define you. It doesn’t discount your worth as a human being. You are so much more than a number on the scale. As a living, breathing, feeling human being you have inherent value. You are special and important and loved. You exist and therefore you matter.
Your appearance is such a small part of who you are, and it certainly doesn’t warrant enough power to discount the person you are inside. You aren’t your body or your weight—you are your goals and dreams and passions and values. You are your strengths and talents and insight. You are a soul and a spirit and a force of nature. Your body does not define you.
4. Shift your focus from the external to the internal.
Make a list of all the people you look up to and are inspired by—not because of their weight or appearance, but because of who they are and what they do. Write out all the qualities they have that make you appreciate and value them.
Use the list as a reminder that it’s the internal things—our dreams and passions and goals and morals and insight and character—that truly define who we are and draw people to us; not how we look.
You are no exception to this. Try making your own list of things you like about yourself that have nothing to do with appearance or body size. If you have a difficult time creating one, ask some friends and family to help you.
5. Think about what you want to be remembered for after you die.
I don’t want people to remember me for what I looked like, what size jeans I wore, or what I weighed. I want to be remembered for the person I am. I want to be remembered as someone who brought about positive change in the world. I want to be remembered as loving friend, partner, and family member. I want to be remembered for my passions and my creativity and my strength. I want to be remembered as someone who made a difference. What do you want your legacy to be? Chances are, it doesn’t have to do with weight.
6. Instead of focusing on the size of your body, start focusing on what your body allows you to do.
The human body is an incredible force. When we get caught up in the number on the scale and size of clothes however, we forget just how lucky we are to have a fully functioning vehicle to engage in life with. So stop hating your body for the way it looks and start acknowledging and appreciating your body for all that it allows you to do.
Make a list of each activity and feat your body helps you to partake in and accomplish. If you want to be even more specific, list out each body part and describe all the things you wouldn’t be able to do without it. Your body is strong, powerful, and beautiful, regardless of it’s size. Choose to treat it with love, compassion, and gratitude instead of hate and judgement.
7. Challenge your negative thoughts.
You may not be able to change the way you feel about your body today, tomorrow, or a month from now, but you can begin the process by challenging the thoughts in the moment. Write out a dialogue between your negative voice and a healthy voice. If you have a hard time coming up with positive counters to the negative thoughts, pretend that you are speaking positively about a friend or loved one.
Even if you don’t believe the things you say to counter the voice, it’s still important to speak out against it, because each time you argue with the thoughts, you are taking away some of their power and reclaiming your own. The more you challenge the thoughts, the less you will believe them. The more you argue back, the easier fighting the voice will become.
8. Allow yourself to feel your feelings.
There is a lot of built up energy and emotion underlying the way we feel about our bodies. Holding in how we feel or engaging in behaviors to numb out may make us feel better in the moment, but in the long run, it doesn’t remedy the pain we feel. It doesn’t make us feel better and it keeps us stuck.
Releasing the energy and painful emotions underlying our body shame requires us to feel our feelings. Whether that means throwing a tantrum on the floor, venting to a friend on the phone, punching a pillow, screaming in your car, or crying in bed, you need to allow yourself to feel your feelings. Let go of the judgement you have about what you feel and recognize that you are feeling these things for a reason. Give yourself permission to release your emotions and let everything out.
9. Do self care.
When you’re struggling with body image, distract yourself with healthy coping mechanisms. Take a bubble bath, get a message, ask for a back scratch, cuddle with a pet, make plans with a supportive friend, watch your favorite movie, get a manicure, listening to calming music, do deep breathing—whatever it is, make sure it’s something self-soothing and helps you get out of your head.
10. Be kind with yourself.
You may not be able to control the way you feel about your body, but you can control what you do in response to how you feel.
Instead of beating yourself up, you can choose to treat yourself with compassion. Instead of engaging in unhealthy and abusive behaviors, you can choose to do self-care. Instead of treating your body as an enemy, you can choose to treat it as a friend. Instead of isolating yourself, you can choose to reach out for support and surround yourself with positive people who make you feel loved and accepted. Instead of agreeing with the negative thoughts, you can choose to challenge them.
***You have more power than you think—don’t let the way you feel about your body keep you from living.
Coping with bad body image days may not be easy, but it is possible.
Don’t give up.
You aren’t alone.
Things can and will get better.
Make Peace with Myself
14 March 2014
Friday morning - March 14th. Something has Mushy’s tummy upset so she had me up every hour on the hour last night wanting to ‘go out’. She’s been sick a couple of times; I wonder what my little ‘hoover’ sucked up from the floor now? So I’m watching her do the ‘restless pace’ while writing this so I apologize for making less sense than usual.
Your kind thoughts, support and encouragement on my journal yesterday were so appreciated, as always. I read them all, several times and plan to revisit them many more. Thank you for being my friends and for helping me find my way back home. Not all of the reminders come from your comments on my journal though; many of them come from reading yours as well and remembering ‘we’re all in this together, we’re not alone, together we share and get better.’
The 10lb bounce is still gone (and the snug jeans fit without the muffin top) and while I do agree weighing weekly instead of daily may have eliminated that ‘panic’ (and probably will return to weekly) I think this served as a well timed wake up call. While the ‘scale’ was false it made me take inventory and find ways to ‘get a little bit better’.
I’d felt discouraged thinking the EWYL plan failed for me; or that I had failed it. I didn’t want to return to recording a calorie restrictive obsessive WOE. But in the light of day with your feedback I did have to climb out of the river of denial about some of my current habits.
I had been telling myself ‘well, at least I’m not drinking a bottle of Crown Royal and eating an entire pizza in one setting’ as I did in the past BUT it is the little things that add up. Two tablespoons of peanut butter instead of one. Adding dulce de leche and cherry preserves with it as a topper for nightly oatmeal. Grabbing a bite of cheese walking thru the kitchen. The midnight munchie madness.
I haven’t done the PB&J for nearly two weeks but I’m having to accept the cumulative calories night after night, week after week, were not only contributing to my ‘flatline of weight loss’ but moreover, they were just another bad habit as I was eating out of routine rather than hungry.
I had been justifying it all to myself that it was one of those moments when I was in ‘charge’. Making the EWYL choice to eat even when I knew I wasn’t hungry, it was just something I wanted. But every night? Not quite. I wasn’t in charge anymore; I was eating from routine. Time to revisit the book and rework the chapters.
Other things, like, three and four cups of coffee in the morning with coconut oil instead of just the first one. Sure it tastes great and is good for me, but in moderation. Another compulsive trait I’d picked up from my Mother, “if a little is good, a whole lot is better.’ If the bottle read ‘take two tylenol’ she’d take four or five… for good measure.
Another: tuna in oil rather than water. My whole 'dieting' life has been 'tuna in water' but accepting that 'there's a good fat' had me going for the oil based every time. Again, if a little is okay, I'd have more. Illogical. So I'm going to start alternating it.
ATF? A couple of days now of really clean eating; fresh salads with wine vinegar dressing and grilled chicken. I’ve been very restrictive on intake of everything (except water - I've been in camel mode sucking it up by the pints all day) as I am considering this my ‘Spring Cleaning’ of sorts. I probably won’t stay this low; it isn’t healthy in the long haul; but I know a few days won’t kill me.
And perhaps it will give me that kickstart to stop being so complacent. I think that’s the hardest part of the past few days. I’d really thought I loved myself unconditionally at this size. I’d been really happy with myself. If one single bad reflection in a glass window can shatter a years worth of work, well, second verse same as the first. I do still love myself; I do still recognize what I've achieved. But maybe that reaction was 'you can do a little better, why aren't you trying?'
Deep tissue massage yesterday. When I can relax and just get lost in the process by meditating it triggers ironic flashes of the past. The present day agenda slips away and is replaced by memories of people and situations from days to decades ago. It’s as if those memories are stuck in certain muscles and the masseuse pushes their button. Yesterday was like watching clips of my life pass before my closed eyes in the form of an old microfiche machine. Jagged, flashing, noisy unpleasant snippets of times I’d rather forget.
I didn’t like it so I would force myself to try to remember happier times from those archives to benefit the massage. When I meditate I try to imagine warm, comfortable relaxing surroundings; usually something like a boat drifting on gentle waves as I try to release the tightness in my body. I know my life has had many good and blessed times and did not want my 90 minutes eaten up by negative memories.
But the ‘blast from the past’ continued to take center stage and I finally just let it roll, I took a deep breath followed by a long exhale and imagined the therapist was lining them all up one by one to march them out of my body. Be gone, my little soldiers of sadness. Consider this your honorable discharge. I don’t need to carry you along in my body and memories any more. There’s a new regime in charge.
In a way, it worked because suddenly dates and times from the past became clearer in ways I couldn't recall them before now. I recognized I did not regain all of the weight in the 18-24 months last time. It was later. With my mind relaxed and letting the past flow I recall a slow regain starting at 18 months.. a pound here or there but nothing I worried about. That was about the time I began my addiction to protein bars and would sleep eat all night.
But, meh, five pounds after losing 150lbs? No problem. Sure my size 2's were snug but I could still button them. No big deal.
But then it was five more, another five, and by mid 2008 I’d regained it all. In about two years, not six months.
Point? I pray ‘this’ panic and my reaction to it, deciding to take stock and reverse it now rather than denying or accepting it will be another good habit. I’d given myself a 7lb bounce buffer for water weight and didn’t talk myself out of the 10lb with ‘it’s only 10, water, blah blah’. I focused. I don’t think I’ve been eating ‘too much’ but I do accept I’ve been eating ‘more than I need’ and now is as good a time as any to stop that train before it builds up to full steam.
So, I'll return to recording (and measuring) food a while. Play around with the pie-chart and give myself a refresher course in nutrition. Relearn the difference in 'satisfying hunger' versus mindless routine eating.
Here’s to another day of clean eating and cleaner thoughts.
Make Peace with Myself
14 March 2014
lost so far:
still to go:
Diet followed reasonably well
Make Peace with Myself
13 March 2014
Thursday Morning - March 13th. Yesterday I woke to find, horrors, my internet was down (and did not restore until mid afternoon, gah). So - spoiler alert - it’s been a tough couple of days with mindful eating and unconditional self love. The following is longer than usual. Read, don’t read, your choice entirely.
The overeating Monday initiated because of poor body image. I’m usually quite fine sitting and sipping coffee while someone else eats if I’m not hungry. I definitely wasn’t hungry at the pub when I ordered the hummus and chips. But I’d just caught a glimpse of my reflection in their window and I looked really FAT. Sloppy. Pudgy. Not the image I'd held of myself lately esp walking and enjoying the sun. Hate, hate, hated myself. So what did I do? I ordered food. Then I had that midnight madness for french fries but ate chili and a biscuit. Dumb.
Tuesday, after journaling, I had better resolve. ‘Today I may not be perfect, but I shall do better.’ Yet either the self hatred from Monday was lingering or who knows what else because while ATF calorically was ‘not that bad’ …. I fought the urge to eat all day. I couldn’t figure out where from where it was coming and did continual ‘gut checks’ for ‘what’s eating at me that I want to do the same.’ I was so relieved to ride to bed still center wagon plus even more pleased I did not trot back into the kitchen for a fourth repeated of midnight munching madness.
But despite that - I woke to insane hypocrisy Wednesday morning when the scale showed me a 10lb jump over night. As much as I argued ‘water weight, impossible, just a fluke’ I found myself wallowing in doubt and … sadness. Anger. Frustration. Especially when my snuggest jeans ‘did’ button but not attractively. I had the Marie Callendar of muffin-tops going on and hated it, myself and everything in my head. Spoiler alert - the scale dropped back this morning though I’ve not yet done the snug-jean test.
Historically, this next six months is the most critical for me; it’s when I start slipping little by little until first one size doesn’t fit, then the next, and then I’m back at my max weight again. I’ve reflected several times ‘what if it’s just my body chemistry and no matter what I eat, how much, etc., I merely exist in this cycle and lose, gain, lose again and regain despite my best focus? What is it in my chemistry and biology that refuses to allow me to obtain a healthy weight and maintain it for the rest of my life? Just like the tip of my thumb that regrows no matter how many times I slice it off cooking… what if I’m just MEANT to swing between 150lbs to 300lbs and maintaining a truly healthy weight for the rest of my life is just … an impossible dream. Life’s little joke on me.
One of the conversations going on in my head as I pushed bottle after bottle of water through my body hoping to flush out any residual sodium based scale demons was wondering if it was emotional baggage weight from Tuesday. What if I was really hungry, was my body really asking for food, and I was fighting it by denying it? Was the overnight gain my body shielding itself because I wasn’t taking care?
An image of my Mother haunted me. She’s passed now but she was .. you know, I don’t really know ‘what’ she was. It’s easy to label she was an alcoholic but sometimes I just think she was an obsessive compulsive, like me. We had an estranged relationship so I never broached this topic with her. Alcohol was just her ‘go to drug’ where I have managed to elevate my obsessive behavior into a wider range of choices that can get out of hand: food, shopping, gambling, work, etc.
Regardless, when she was ‘trying to be sober’ she was the icon of ‘dry drunk’ - the person trying to not drink but not wanting to do the work to try to heal. Clenched jaw matching clenched fists and a look in her eyes that read ‘I’m 5 seconds away from complete madness’. That’s the way I felt Tuesday. Like a ‘dry drunk’.
And when I saw that scale Wednesday I thought ‘WWSD?” (What would she do?) Well, of course, she’d drink. Justifying it with ‘what’s the point?’ So I did the same. I drank. About a gallon. Of water. (psych!)
I even decided to track my food a while. Another way of facing the truth. I compare this to how she’d say “I only had a couple of drinks” and that consisted of, sure, a couple of ‘drinks’. It’s all in the measurement. A fifth of whiskey drank in ‘two drinks’. No wonder I’m the queen of rationalization; I learned it from her. That’s like me saying, “I only had a scoop of ice cream and one slice of cake ” but failing to qualify I used a garden shovel and a hacksaw for utensils.
I realize tracking my food may reawaken some bad obsessions - like extreme math trying to justify the weight loss with a negative CICO number and being frustrated. But I’m not ready to give up and drink the milkshakes just yet. I’m revisiting some of the older tools as I continue to check my structure for weaknesses.
And that’s probably why I’ve approached this time, this journey, with the constant mantra of ‘one day, one bite, one breath at a time’. I was ‘the dry drunk’ in my past weight losses. Recalling the memory of me during the weight loss in my 40’s, standing in the kitchen, heart racing from the phenteramine plus every other caffeine laden ‘green tea pill, fat burner, dexawhatever’ I could buy OTC to enhance the RX, my own fists clenched and arms wrapped so tight around myself all I could hear was my heart racing and the roar of blood pumping in my head. I know from the outside I looked off the charts insane because eventually Cutty’s voice would cut through that ‘raging roar’ in my head asking, ‘are you okay?’
This may seem old hat, a repeat of so many things I’ve written in the past but reinforcing ‘good habits’ for me takes just as much work, if not more, than than breaking old bad habits. This journaling has been my path to seeing my own ‘insanity’ in print and breaking down the weaker links.
I remember a monologue from the movie ‘28 days’
I'd get that feeling and you all know what that feeling is; when your skin is screaming and your hands are shaking and your stomach feels like it wants to jump through your throat. And you know that if anyone had a clue how wrong it felt to be sober, they wouldn't dream of asking you to stay that way.
That’s how I felt Tuesday. And Wednesday I felt as if I were whistling in the dark as the mental image of myself seemed back at 300lbs. I felt like this was all some court appointed attendance at a process I didn't trust.
Although I’ve had my past experiences with too much drinking (how much is too much?) I don’t feel I have an issue with it anymore. I can take it or leave it but with FOOD I still have fist gripping days that follow the old line of ‘one would be too any and a thousand wouldn’t be enough’.
I remember my Mother said she went to AA once and it made her want to drink more than ever, hence why she didn’t return. I can watch movies about drug and alcohol addiction and they inspire me to think about compulsions, learn the lingo (enabling, codependent, etc) and translate the tools and serenity to food. But let me watch a movie about obesity and I am reaching for anything I can shove in my mouth. Hide the dog. They don’t serve that ‘after school special’ of reinforcement; I find myself wanting to grab a sleeping bag and camp in front of the fridge.
What is that about?? What happened to me that ‘bulimia’ seemed stronger than ‘moderation?’ I knock wood, my head, whatever is available that I’ve not used that disorder, nor the drugs, RX or OTC, nor any disordered eating this time. And most days I feel very good, happy, and confident about the choices I make
But if one freaky day on the scale can shake my faith … it also shakes my confidence. I felt like every fiber of my philosophy and WOE was a house of cards.
Is it that the exploration of very thing I struggle with the most just gets too close for comfort? Has all this the past year been just another distraction? Am I doomed to fall off the wagon back into the grease pit and regain the excess weight with french fries? What the hell is going on?
So, that’s what’s going on with me the past few days in relation to ATF. Borrowing every tool I can from all of my friends here. And praying one moment, one bite at a time to continue to make good choices and have good results returned.
Make Peace with Myself
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