Tuesday, June 5, 2012
An Honest Exchange
This person is a person I see so much of myself in, mirrored back at me, that sometimes talking to them can cause severe discomfort. Working through it, because they are important to me, but we had a dialogue on a social media website about food addiction. I want to remember it forever.
It's Not All Victories
Well, he's right. People who can't lose weight aren't doing what is working. I figured out a part of my personality that needs to be indulged, nurtured and encouraged for me to be successful. I'm done trying to be 'even-kiltered' like 'everyone else'. I'm tired of trying to find a happy medium, moderation and stability. I guess learning this crucial aspect of my personality has been the single most important thing I've learned during this entire journey
The weight loss was incidental to learning to be who I truly am. Learning to breathe through the losses, and learning that it is okay to be a high-energy, perfectionist, over-achiever that also has days that are unproductive (well, as long as there aren't too many of them!) I've learned that I've been comparing myself to people I know, other mothers, other overweight people, other people in similar situations...but that their situation is not my situation. I'm also learning to be content with my accomplishments...it is a process. In so many ways I feel so much more successful than those people I used to compare myself to. Their lives have remain unchanged, stagnant - and that might please them and give them the greatest sense of satisfaction and happiness that they deserve, but then I look at my life:
My life is full of pepper, fire and a swirling nest of red ants. Ups and downs, learning to take as much care of myself as I try to take of others and learning that it is okay to be me.
Some questions I need to find the answers to: When did I stop caring about me? What was the worst experience of being big? Most people that are obese have a plethora of excuses...what were mine? What was the moment I decided to stop making excuses? Do I have the determination and the stubbornness to see this through to the end? Let's see. I'm so close to this blog coming to an end - a blog to detail the active phase of my weight loss and just touch on the passive phase. I've decided that on December 31, 2012 I will say good-bye to this friend with a final update (hopefully with answers to the above questions, and an Active 2012 update), a final weigh-in, and a final farewell.In closing: "What you decide to do is going to define who you are." - Chris Powell
Eggs out, for now...
xx
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Thursday As My Bond-Mate
I've spent the past six months hopping from idea to idea, scheme to scheme, point to point like a bad 1940's film about a man just trying to get on the 'next big idea' with his get rich quick schemes. I couldn't figure out why I was feeling so pressured to keep lifting roots every time I'd planted them, but I figured out last night that this is simply my own "Darkest Hour." I've been hopping because I've been sad. At my heaviest I don't ever remember being this sad. Perhaps time has mitigated the damage, perhaps I simply don't remember the pain in the same way, but I don't remember feeling exactly this same way.
I remember feeling hopeless and lost, but what I feel now is so much worse: Purposeless. For two years I've dedicated the entirety of being on this one, single project and now that my project is coming to a close I'm left remembering how good it felt to be eyeball-deep in the project's inception. How amazing the adrenaline rushes were when I was beating records I'd previously kept.
I've so meticulously kept this blog that when I look back through the pages I only see happy memories. Excitement about a fridge full of food has turned into a floundering disdain. Happiness with my shrinking body has turned into uncertainty. Choices so simple, so straightforward got complicated somewhere along the way. Interest turned into something nearing obsession and that, naturally, always changes the lens through which a person's view is seen.
I am sad with how my life has changed these past six months. I wouldn't be happier if I were a larger person, that would be too easy a fix. Instead I've come to terms with the facts that I have excavated the coffin I had managed to keep buried under hundreds of pounds of extra fat for my entire life - from preteen to adult. I just got this body, just worked so hard for it, only to discover that 1) I don't like it, and 2) I now have to deal with the skeletons in my closet. There's nothing more annoying than getting a degree in a field for 2+ years, only to find once you're done it doesn't actually help you at all.
I don't have regrets, I don't feel like I have excuses either. I just have a deep, thrumming sadness over many things. How I let myself get so big that I even needed a plastic surgery consult. Was the years of reckless eating worth it? Was I happier then? My relationship with food was certainly a different one, but it was just as unhealthy as it has become.
I can pinpoint the moment that my attitude toward this life changed, and the people that I feel so ruthlessly spearheaded that change. I have moved on from it, but just because we've move on from our past doesn't mean it hasn't also inexplicably changed who we, as people, are.
The consult for plastic surgery went well. I spun, naked, in front of an early middle-aged surgeon that poked, prodded and calipered his way around my body - my temple. My body put out to be judged, to be marked with invisible lines of correction, to see if I even could be corrected. My flaws on display, but worse - my flaws to be corrected by someone else. My entire journey done solo only to be turned over to this man I've never met before. This entire journey done thus far inexpensively now turning into a $28,000 affair. An abdominoplasty because through years of reckless eating my abdominal muscles have drifted. Hernia repair because there are no muscles there to hold things in place as they ought to be held. Inner thigh lift because my skin hangs like curtains of pale, peach meat. A swatch of skin, some 6" tall cut from around my entire midsection, from the front all the way to the back, in a last ditch effort to rid myself of the skin just hanging on to me for dear life. Will it make me happier? I don't think it will.
I felt so caged last night, so unhappy and restless, that I threw clothes on and I ran. I ran, and I ran, and I did not stop. It was dark and I couldn't see, but I still ran. I was trying to run away from all of this sadness cascading down on me, only to realize that no amount of distance will put enough space between me and myself...
Overall I am a happy person. A content person. I feel I am a loving, and giving person. I try to include, not exclude and to tolerate and encourage differences. I am not a bad person, I don't believe - but I am struggling with the consequences of my actions of years past and that is starting to make an already full cup overflow.
I remember feeling hopeless and lost, but what I feel now is so much worse: Purposeless. For two years I've dedicated the entirety of being on this one, single project and now that my project is coming to a close I'm left remembering how good it felt to be eyeball-deep in the project's inception. How amazing the adrenaline rushes were when I was beating records I'd previously kept.
I've so meticulously kept this blog that when I look back through the pages I only see happy memories. Excitement about a fridge full of food has turned into a floundering disdain. Happiness with my shrinking body has turned into uncertainty. Choices so simple, so straightforward got complicated somewhere along the way. Interest turned into something nearing obsession and that, naturally, always changes the lens through which a person's view is seen.
I am sad with how my life has changed these past six months. I wouldn't be happier if I were a larger person, that would be too easy a fix. Instead I've come to terms with the facts that I have excavated the coffin I had managed to keep buried under hundreds of pounds of extra fat for my entire life - from preteen to adult. I just got this body, just worked so hard for it, only to discover that 1) I don't like it, and 2) I now have to deal with the skeletons in my closet. There's nothing more annoying than getting a degree in a field for 2+ years, only to find once you're done it doesn't actually help you at all.
I don't have regrets, I don't feel like I have excuses either. I just have a deep, thrumming sadness over many things. How I let myself get so big that I even needed a plastic surgery consult. Was the years of reckless eating worth it? Was I happier then? My relationship with food was certainly a different one, but it was just as unhealthy as it has become.
I can pinpoint the moment that my attitude toward this life changed, and the people that I feel so ruthlessly spearheaded that change. I have moved on from it, but just because we've move on from our past doesn't mean it hasn't also inexplicably changed who we, as people, are.
The consult for plastic surgery went well. I spun, naked, in front of an early middle-aged surgeon that poked, prodded and calipered his way around my body - my temple. My body put out to be judged, to be marked with invisible lines of correction, to see if I even could be corrected. My flaws on display, but worse - my flaws to be corrected by someone else. My entire journey done solo only to be turned over to this man I've never met before. This entire journey done thus far inexpensively now turning into a $28,000 affair. An abdominoplasty because through years of reckless eating my abdominal muscles have drifted. Hernia repair because there are no muscles there to hold things in place as they ought to be held. Inner thigh lift because my skin hangs like curtains of pale, peach meat. A swatch of skin, some 6" tall cut from around my entire midsection, from the front all the way to the back, in a last ditch effort to rid myself of the skin just hanging on to me for dear life. Will it make me happier? I don't think it will.I felt so caged last night, so unhappy and restless, that I threw clothes on and I ran. I ran, and I ran, and I did not stop. It was dark and I couldn't see, but I still ran. I was trying to run away from all of this sadness cascading down on me, only to realize that no amount of distance will put enough space between me and myself...
Overall I am a happy person. A content person. I feel I am a loving, and giving person. I try to include, not exclude and to tolerate and encourage differences. I am not a bad person, I don't believe - but I am struggling with the consequences of my actions of years past and that is starting to make an already full cup overflow.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
A Little Bit Afraid, But A Lot Alright
So this morning heralds in a new stage of my weightless journey: Plastic surgeon's consult. One of the side effects of losing weight, regardless of how much exercise I've done, is that there is going to be extra skin hanging around. I want to see if it's possible to figure out exactly how many pounds of skin I have hanging around and if I could improve the relationship I have with my body just by making a few changes to it. It's hard to look at yourself in the mirror, see something melted, and feel beautiful. I think a lot of the psychological process of this journey has been dealing with the change in body image. Well, I suppose we'll see!
I've been conquering things off of my Active 2012 list. Most notably the training in, and firing of, a hand gun. In this particular experience my husband and I went to a range, received a safety lesson and crash course in gun operation and then fired off a box of ammo. I did pretty well and didn't have half the reaction as I thought I might. Truth be told the glock has a much different sounding discharge than a shotgun, so I think at some point I'd like to learn how to operate a shotgun, but for now? I'm hooked. I had a ton of fun and Robert and I have been talking about buying a gun for range trips in the future.
Another activity crossed off the list was a trip kayaking or canoeing. Robert and I had a date day (thanks to my inlaws) and after a morning of shooting we hopped back into the Woodbridge area to hit up Lake Ridge Marina for two hours of scenic paddling. We both ended up getting a touch of heatstroke (it got up to 96* Fahrenheit) but I think we both enjoyed ourselves! Robert said it was one of the most fun things he's ever done and I'm so pleased I was the one to be able to give him that experience. So, two things off the list! I forget how many I have left to go, but I'm sure I'll get to them as time allows.
I've been yoyo-ing a lot with my diet lately. Some days I get these horrific carb cravings and just find myself eating everything sweet in sight. I'm not sure if that is a psychological thing, a physical thing, or what? I've been indulging my sweet tooth before I detox it enough out of my system that I stop the cravings. It's a never ending cycle.
At Medifast 3 weeks ago I hit 149.7 on the scale. The following Friday I was 160 on the scale. I dropped down to 154 the following weigh-in, and this one coming I think I'm going to have ended up gaining or maintaining. I've taken myself away from the mentality of losing constantly. I think I'm burnt out, finished even. I was on track 100% yesterday (I ate extra protein to stave off a hungry tummy) but for the most part it might be time to focus on maintenance and physical activity and hope the rest of the weight comes off in time.
Ultimately I just want to be happy with my body. Learning to love yourself is hard...but I'm confident it will be worth it in the end.
Eggs out
xx
Another activity crossed off the list was a trip kayaking or canoeing. Robert and I had a date day (thanks to my inlaws) and after a morning of shooting we hopped back into the Woodbridge area to hit up Lake Ridge Marina for two hours of scenic paddling. We both ended up getting a touch of heatstroke (it got up to 96* Fahrenheit) but I think we both enjoyed ourselves! Robert said it was one of the most fun things he's ever done and I'm so pleased I was the one to be able to give him that experience. So, two things off the list! I forget how many I have left to go, but I'm sure I'll get to them as time allows.I've been yoyo-ing a lot with my diet lately. Some days I get these horrific carb cravings and just find myself eating everything sweet in sight. I'm not sure if that is a psychological thing, a physical thing, or what? I've been indulging my sweet tooth before I detox it enough out of my system that I stop the cravings. It's a never ending cycle.
At Medifast 3 weeks ago I hit 149.7 on the scale. The following Friday I was 160 on the scale. I dropped down to 154 the following weigh-in, and this one coming I think I'm going to have ended up gaining or maintaining. I've taken myself away from the mentality of losing constantly. I think I'm burnt out, finished even. I was on track 100% yesterday (I ate extra protein to stave off a hungry tummy) but for the most part it might be time to focus on maintenance and physical activity and hope the rest of the weight comes off in time.
Ultimately I just want to be happy with my body. Learning to love yourself is hard...but I'm confident it will be worth it in the end.
Eggs out
xx
Thursday, May 24, 2012
A Different Kind Of Mother
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| Lake Ridge Marina |
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| Lake Ridge Marina |
"Experience isn't expensive, it's priceless."
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| Frying Pan Farm |
I've decided that is my new personal motto. It always has been, but nothing has ever summed it up so succinctly. My personal motto, and personal response to people that question any extravagance we encounter giving life to our children. More than computers and video games...the things that don't matter. I'm focusing solely on the things that do. Activities you can get dirty doing, activities that expand your mind and challenge what you thought to be true, activities that might be uncomfortable but will broaden your horizons and make you realize what a small, but integral part you play in this world.
I've been struggling with my body image. Losing weight hasn't been easy. Oh, at the beginning it was all fun and games. The numbers were big and easy to lose. Choices were less specific which led to a broader and more overall level of happiness with my diet. My body hadn't yet begin to look hapless, sad and defeated. I hadn't yet realized how many demons I had inside that I needed to face, address and then vanquish - alone.
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| Enjoying Every Minute Of It |
It has been a journey and this journey will continue on for the rest of my life. Having been obese I will always hold the ability to become that way again. Having now been smaller, a size 8-10, I also realize that if I want to keep it that the cycle will never end. It will change, but it will never end. There is much to sort out, but in the mean time I'm going to start experiencing everything I can get my hands on, or hands in.
My life is about to begin, and I can't help but wonder if the saying "Calm before the storm" might also apply in reverse to "Storm before the calm." I had my storm, and am now finally finding a measure of peace within myself.
Life is a journey - an adventure. I plan to experience and enjoy every part of it.
Eggs out
xx
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Food Has Broken Me
Up, Down, Left, Right, Yes, No. Right now my life is full of indecision and different directions I could take. Food has been haunting me for ages. This is the ugly truth of food addiction. This is the face of my unhappiness that I've been uncovering throughout this entire journey. This is the girl inside the fat suit.
This is me.
I'm scared right now, running at times into walls blindly with full force because I simply can't manage my emotions. I wanted to get into nutrition, to help other people with their food struggles, but I realized the hypocrisy in this. How can I dream of helping others when I'm still so fundamentally broken, myself? Food terrifies me, and I either work to control it, or the opposite happens and I find it controlling me. Every decision I make is food based, every television show I watch is food based, in almost every exchange with someone I have there is the presentation of food.
I recognize the broken.
I feel apologetic if I'm not eating a certain way and someone is hosting me. I feel I've made it worse by flip-flopping back and forth so frequently. I feel apologetic that I'm not able to continue on the holistic nutrition path, and have flip-flopped to a completely different field. I feel I've made it worse by ever speaking dreams out loud. I feel sorrow over my deflated body, outrage at my inability to do more, defiance as I continue to melt, exhaustion as I contemplate the gym, and then the hunger intermixed with terror to be feeling fulfilled, happy and done.
This is the ugly side of un-burying yourself.
In talking with a friend I've decided to go back on Medifast. To put it on "Project Status". I will do nothing but Medifast for the next 4 weeks. I will be committed to it, and I will not worry about it. In 4 weeks time I will come back and rehash where I am. I will take stock of the information, compare, and then make a decision from there.
Nothing is forever unless you want it to be.
This is me.
I'm scared right now, running at times into walls blindly with full force because I simply can't manage my emotions. I wanted to get into nutrition, to help other people with their food struggles, but I realized the hypocrisy in this. How can I dream of helping others when I'm still so fundamentally broken, myself? Food terrifies me, and I either work to control it, or the opposite happens and I find it controlling me. Every decision I make is food based, every television show I watch is food based, in almost every exchange with someone I have there is the presentation of food.
I recognize the broken.
I feel apologetic if I'm not eating a certain way and someone is hosting me. I feel I've made it worse by flip-flopping back and forth so frequently. I feel apologetic that I'm not able to continue on the holistic nutrition path, and have flip-flopped to a completely different field. I feel I've made it worse by ever speaking dreams out loud. I feel sorrow over my deflated body, outrage at my inability to do more, defiance as I continue to melt, exhaustion as I contemplate the gym, and then the hunger intermixed with terror to be feeling fulfilled, happy and done.
This is the ugly side of un-burying yourself.
In talking with a friend I've decided to go back on Medifast. To put it on "Project Status". I will do nothing but Medifast for the next 4 weeks. I will be committed to it, and I will not worry about it. In 4 weeks time I will come back and rehash where I am. I will take stock of the information, compare, and then make a decision from there.
Nothing is forever unless you want it to be.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Lying In The Tracks Waiting For The Midnight Train
I've been struggling with my weight, overall, these past two weeks since coming off Medifast. There have been a lot of ups and downs, trying to get back on track without carb shocking my body into a reaction. I've been using the online tool at http://caloriecount.about.com/ to help keep track of my daily micro/macro/calorie/etc's and have found that I'm also keeping my journal as well. That's double the work, and nothing seems to be paying off.
I know I go through this slump regularly, and that sometimes our bodies just need a recovery period but it can get so frustrating. Sometimes I feel the habits I'm developing just trying to stay on top of what I'm trying to accomplish are becoming a bit obsessive. I talk about what I'm doing often, which is partly normal because it's such a huge part of my life, but also partly worrying because right now this is my 'cause'. The one thing I'm devoting myself to with everything I have, and I just worry that sooner or later I'm going to hit a mental-emotional wall where I am suddenly just 'done'. Where, perhaps, I rebel. Where, perhaps, I can't go on any longer like this because I'm tired of constantly watching out for the enemy over my shoulder.
At times food makes me feel like a fugitive. Food is a crime I'm guilty of, have been guilty of for my whole life. That guilt, combined with the need to constantly be looking over my shoulder about what will happen next, is tiresome.
I don't feel happy in my own skin right now. My body reminds me of something that is melting, no longer able to hold itself up. I haven't had the energy or gumption to hit the gym like I used to. I remember, the not so far off past, where I was going 1-2 hours a day minimum and I felt amazing. I know I need to get back into that but I don't have the gumption, nor do I have the external support I feel I need.
It feels almost like now that I'm so close to my final goal (less than 25 pounds) that I am just doing everything I can, throwing everything I have at finishing this project so I can move on to the next phase. Will I ever be happy though? I started all of this to be happy, and to look good. I didn't start it for health, but they seem to have gone hand-in-glove for me. I've been forced to learn new things, new methods, new techniques, little tricks of the trade, and my overall education about nutrition has increased dramatically. With that there also seems to be a snowballing of what feels like "everything I know I need to do all at once" because I'm so desperate to be done.
I'm feeling harmed, emotionally, but I can't stop because if I do it'll be that much more painful than just sticking with it. I've lost over 53% of myself, I'm 53% less of who I was physically. That daily struggle to maintain and lose more of myself is painful. Looking back I had no idea it would be anything like this. I compared it to the feelings one gets after losing 20 pounds (which they then gain back). There is no comparison, and I don't have any friends that I feel can come anywhere near to understanding what is going on in my head right now. I'm feeling alone.
"I can't dip my feet in the waters of food that is not diet-friendly. I can't, because if I do I suddenly find myself drowning. Food addictions are just as hard to overcome as drug/alcohol addictions...and so much more readily available. Without support this would be impossible...even with support it feels like an uphill climb."From an entry I wrote dated 1/31/2011
I'm going to go to an Over Eaters Anonymous group this Thursday. I'm going to try to take a hold of my mentality and start healing a lifetime of self-abuse with food so that when I hit my goal I don't begin the same cycle of self-harm all over again. My body couldn't take it. My mind couldn't take it. After working so hard, I need to do maintenance to make sure that I'm not just fixing the topical problems, but working to find solutions to the problems below the surface that cause all the topical problems in the first place. My obese body was a symptom, not the sole cause, of my unhappiness.
Even now I have reservations about posting this. It makes me feel less than I am, less a warrior, less a fighter, less of a machine. It makes me feel less accomplished and more...human. The problem with feeling human at the same time you're building something monumental is that humanity gets in the way. Humanity isn't cold and callous enough to get the job done. Sometimes we must do what we don't like doing to get what we want. In war it's called "acceptable losses": a ratio of human lives that are "acceptable" to have depleted before something must be done. Many of us have grandfathers, grandmothers and other family members that have served and died in wars. Was their death an 'acceptable loss' to their family? No. To the cause, 'freedom'? Yes.
This isn't so grand scale as a war, I have no 10% ratio and no "good ol' boys" I need to send back home to their families. However, I have been doing things that have been bringing me closer to that 10% figure of critical mass. That critical mass before the losses are so great that something needs to happen, something needs to change, and the true cost of humanity kicks in.
I feel, right now, that perhaps only a machine could possibly finish what I have started out to do...but there's always hope. That fighting spirit. I'm not going to give up. I won't. I can't. I can't stop until I'm happy. I wonder if I'll ever be happy, if what I've done will ever be good enough.
Wishing you all good health on your journey, whatever part of it you might find yourself on...
Eggs out.
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