You know why? Because it's the worst of both worlds.
First - You try to stuff food in the giant hole where real emotion should be. Those emotions that are hard to face? Those are the ones you need to cope, to learn, to grow. Sadness is a feeling of value. It cannot dominate your life, but it deserves its time.
Second - You put away a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies (or, in my case, a taco salad large enough for the cast of Les Mis), and guess what? Now you get to add one more negative emotion to your all ready groaning buffet of negativity: guilt.
So, what have we accomplished here? Instead of looking at my sadness, trying to determine if through the sadness there are solutions, I have managed to stuff my face with at least 9 pounds of imminently forgettable lunch. Now I'm sad about two things instead of one, guilty, and incredibly bloated.
Win-win...for the DEVIL on my back. For me, it's a day wasted walking backwards.
So, truth: I was deeply sad today about something that happened in the "not bloggable" area of my life. I even tried to do it the right way at first, by setting aside the food, putting my head down, and having a good long cry. I should have just thrown the salad away. I almost did, and then, I thought that devil thought that has no place in my mind: well you might want that later. No need to waste, after all. Such bullshit. After 3 hours of ignoring the accursed salad, I gave in and went after it like a woman on Death Row. Am I less sad? Of course not. I'm most assuredly more, because now my pure, beautiful sadness has to share with ugly guilt, which I'm SURE doesn't bathe enough and smells like day-old avocado ranch.
Emotional coping tip for the day: Join with me people: we feel, we emote - we laugh, we cry, we gnash our teeth, right? NO FOOD ALLOWED!!! Let's make sure our food is filling only our bellies, because everywhere else you try to put it, it'll just rot.
Replacement behavior modeling tip for the day: replace eating a cookie with...a chicken wing! Or celery or something. Small steps...I swear, I'm tiptoeing right there with ya!
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Day 216 - 228: Inspiration and Rejuvenation
This has been a week of unexpected inspiration. Without telling anyone, I'd started to sink back into some very bad, old feelings. I've felt a little lonely and sad, a little frustrated and defeated. Then, Monday at Jazzercise, someone said something unbelievable to me: they asked me if I had had bariatric surgery. Holy crap. Who gets a compliment like that? I worked out like a woman possessed that night.
Then tonight, I went to a friend's 30th birthday party. It was a casual affair: I wore the same clothes that I wore to work today - a new dress I bought on clearance for $15, some leggings, and black boots. I like the dress, but honestly, it's still very hard to feel cute in clothes. I arrived at the party not thinking much about how I look, except to I know I'm not underdressed. So isn't it a surprise to me when everyone is completely jazzed about how great they think I Iook? It's so powerful, that kind of feedback: It's like mainlining positive energy.
And make no mistake: I am, even now, a creature of external motivation. I tell myself, and others, "I'm doing this just for me, so that I can be healthy and strong." Well, bullshit on that right there. I need, no, I crave the validation of others. But I'm not a lowbrow junkie: I'm not looking for the entrapment complement I've basically had to spell out for someone else. Hello, no. I only want the, blurted, spontaneous compliments from the person who is inspired by me.
For some inexplicable reason, I found myself telling my story tonight. From the very sad beginning of eating unbelievable amounts of pasta and watching Marigold On Netflix to seeing myself at the Fourth of July; from weeping uncontrollably to rolling myself from the couch to do 5 minuets of dance moves with my beloved Shahrukh Khan for the first time (5 minutes before I was out on the floor); then crying all of it out to the internet because I couldn't tell anyone in my life, but I somehow had to find some way someone that I just couldn't just die before my next birthday, so someone, anywhere, would hear me to get up each day, and tell myself, "Today is not a good day to die."
And the these friends, who have seen me at my worst, just showed up and filled with love and support and positivity and motivation to begin a new today. They were inspired by my story. Though I hear those words, I still can't make any real sense out of them. I am still fat and flabby and don't fit into clothes, and the scale still taunts me. Who is this girl they see? But, at the very same time, I crave those words like a starving man craves a meal. I live outside myself, in the world of perception. It's not right, it just is. So, my buddy almost young enough to be my son, who tells me I look hot, even though he definitely doesn't mean it quite that way, he makes my day. When two of my girlfriends who, in their own right, look absolutely amazing, go to the trouble to tell me how beautiful I look an how amazed they are with my progress, I'm speechless. But most of all, when someone hears my silly story of getting up off the couch and letting Shahrukh Khan call me back into the light, And cries, CRIES, by the power of the story. the POWER of the STORY? The "getting up off of my ASS" story??? I am simply overwhelmed.
These people: the lady at Jazzercise, the students at school, the friends in the sports bar, they all rekindle the fire that got me here in the first place. One friend this evening, "but you're in such a good place now." It's quite shocking to hear that, because I constantly feel like a piece of glass That could shatter at the slightest pressure. To be clear, I do this for me. I want to be healthy, I want to be happy. But I would be a shameful liar if I didn't admit that the people In and around my life are motivating me in ways they cannot even know. And, to be honest, I'm not even sure I want them to know. A person's well-being to be such a heavy burden... At least now I know that every word that is said comes from a spontaneous place of support and positive feeling. It feeds the dark places in my heart, and it drives me to begin a new tonight. A new day, a new commitment:
I promise to keep trying my very very best every day if you (whoever you are out there, world) promise to try to remember every every day to honor my effort in some tiny way. I promise to be truthful you about how it's going, even when the going is shitty.
And I promise that, for one more day, I will stay the course. You know why. And to Brett, Dave, Poe, Molly, Paul, and ESPECIALLY to Beth/Beth...today's video is for you.
Then tonight, I went to a friend's 30th birthday party. It was a casual affair: I wore the same clothes that I wore to work today - a new dress I bought on clearance for $15, some leggings, and black boots. I like the dress, but honestly, it's still very hard to feel cute in clothes. I arrived at the party not thinking much about how I look, except to I know I'm not underdressed. So isn't it a surprise to me when everyone is completely jazzed about how great they think I Iook? It's so powerful, that kind of feedback: It's like mainlining positive energy.
And make no mistake: I am, even now, a creature of external motivation. I tell myself, and others, "I'm doing this just for me, so that I can be healthy and strong." Well, bullshit on that right there. I need, no, I crave the validation of others. But I'm not a lowbrow junkie: I'm not looking for the entrapment complement I've basically had to spell out for someone else. Hello, no. I only want the, blurted, spontaneous compliments from the person who is inspired by me.
For some inexplicable reason, I found myself telling my story tonight. From the very sad beginning of eating unbelievable amounts of pasta and watching Marigold On Netflix to seeing myself at the Fourth of July; from weeping uncontrollably to rolling myself from the couch to do 5 minuets of dance moves with my beloved Shahrukh Khan for the first time (5 minutes before I was out on the floor); then crying all of it out to the internet because I couldn't tell anyone in my life, but I somehow had to find some way someone that I just couldn't just die before my next birthday, so someone, anywhere, would hear me to get up each day, and tell myself, "Today is not a good day to die."
And the these friends, who have seen me at my worst, just showed up and filled with love and support and positivity and motivation to begin a new today. They were inspired by my story. Though I hear those words, I still can't make any real sense out of them. I am still fat and flabby and don't fit into clothes, and the scale still taunts me. Who is this girl they see? But, at the very same time, I crave those words like a starving man craves a meal. I live outside myself, in the world of perception. It's not right, it just is. So, my buddy almost young enough to be my son, who tells me I look hot, even though he definitely doesn't mean it quite that way, he makes my day. When two of my girlfriends who, in their own right, look absolutely amazing, go to the trouble to tell me how beautiful I look an how amazed they are with my progress, I'm speechless. But most of all, when someone hears my silly story of getting up off the couch and letting Shahrukh Khan call me back into the light, And cries, CRIES, by the power of the story. the POWER of the STORY? The "getting up off of my ASS" story??? I am simply overwhelmed.
These people: the lady at Jazzercise, the students at school, the friends in the sports bar, they all rekindle the fire that got me here in the first place. One friend this evening, "but you're in such a good place now." It's quite shocking to hear that, because I constantly feel like a piece of glass That could shatter at the slightest pressure. To be clear, I do this for me. I want to be healthy, I want to be happy. But I would be a shameful liar if I didn't admit that the people In and around my life are motivating me in ways they cannot even know. And, to be honest, I'm not even sure I want them to know. A person's well-being to be such a heavy burden... At least now I know that every word that is said comes from a spontaneous place of support and positive feeling. It feeds the dark places in my heart, and it drives me to begin a new tonight. A new day, a new commitment:
I promise to keep trying my very very best every day if you (whoever you are out there, world) promise to try to remember every every day to honor my effort in some tiny way. I promise to be truthful you about how it's going, even when the going is shitty.
And I promise that, for one more day, I will stay the course. You know why. And to Brett, Dave, Poe, Molly, Paul, and ESPECIALLY to Beth/Beth...today's video is for you.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Day 206 - 228.2: A Little Family Meeting
Our laundry has gotten completely out of control. In an effort to curb the madness, we have assigned both of our boys the chore of folding their own laundry. They are not pleased. At. All. Nonetheless, Harper and I are committed to the new process. We spent more time arguing and setting boundaries for this new laundry fold initiative than we did actually folding any laundry.
This exemplifies the need to regain a bit of normalcy in our house. We have allowed our habits to become too scattered, too out of touch with reality, to really teach our sons good practices for taking care of our house and their responsibilities. We are starting small, with our little laundry experiment, but I hope to see a bit of success and a lot less drama in the coming weeks.
Master this, and it's on to the next enormous obstacle: getting back to actually cooking and eating meals as a family. That one looks roughly like Mount Everest at the moment. One day at a time… for now, let's just get through tomorrow's laundry.
This exemplifies the need to regain a bit of normalcy in our house. We have allowed our habits to become too scattered, too out of touch with reality, to really teach our sons good practices for taking care of our house and their responsibilities. We are starting small, with our little laundry experiment, but I hope to see a bit of success and a lot less drama in the coming weeks.
Master this, and it's on to the next enormous obstacle: getting back to actually cooking and eating meals as a family. That one looks roughly like Mount Everest at the moment. One day at a time… for now, let's just get through tomorrow's laundry.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Day 205 - 277.8: Back from the Dead
Well, two things got resurrected in the last 10 days: my shame and my recovery. I've been hiding from my blog, which is so stupid, I don't even know how to explain it. My weight has fluctuated wildly: as high as 235, and as low as, well, today. I spent last weekend curled up on the couch… huddled really...eating as much as I could stuff in my face. I tried to console myself, justify what I was doing, by telling myself, "there aren't any carbs in this - how bad could it be?" Terrible. That's how bad. Enough for, I don't know, about eight people in one day. I knew, KNEW I was just eviscerating my progress, but the secret, ugly defiance grabbed me by the hair, pried open my gullet, and stuffed me like a Thanksgiving turkey. I put myself to bed Sunday night greasy, bloated, sick in both heart and body, swearing that Monday would dawn anew, and I would get up and work out my shit.
Monday morning, like a justified and ancient wrath, a sinus headache descended on me with the force of an anvil dropped off a cliff, Wile E. Coyote style. By the end of the work day, I'm sitting in a meeting, sobbing in agony, trying to convince my friend and Jazzercise partner that, "I'll be fine once I start working out, right?" See looks at me with the face that only she can make: that face that says, "Have you lost your mind completely?" and says "No, not right. Go to CareNow. Now!" But how can I do that? How can I allow this day to go unresolved? I was supposed to work out my shit today! I can't NOT do anything to make this weekend go away!
Yes I could. I went to CareNow, had them look up my nose, tap on my face, and pronounce, "yes, it's a sinus infection." That's why we pay them the big bucks. So, a shot of steroids in the butt, a day of peaceful rest, and a great weigh-in Wednesday brought me back to life. Pushing through a rough "day after the headache" to Jazzercise in pain and working up the nerve to get back in the fire and blog about it, warts and all - that sent my shame back to its dungeon.
Today, a bunch of compliments - "Have you lost more weight? Are those jeans too big?" I smile, and give a truly heart-felt thank you to each of them. But here's what I REALLY lost - the big, ugly, albatross-riding monkey off my back. And you know? Your clothes DO fit better without it!
So, for today at least, I'm back in the saddle. Just for today, maybe, but Julia got her groove back. I've come this far...what's one more day?
Alleluia.
Amen.
Monday morning, like a justified and ancient wrath, a sinus headache descended on me with the force of an anvil dropped off a cliff, Wile E. Coyote style. By the end of the work day, I'm sitting in a meeting, sobbing in agony, trying to convince my friend and Jazzercise partner that, "I'll be fine once I start working out, right?" See looks at me with the face that only she can make: that face that says, "Have you lost your mind completely?" and says "No, not right. Go to CareNow. Now!" But how can I do that? How can I allow this day to go unresolved? I was supposed to work out my shit today! I can't NOT do anything to make this weekend go away!
Yes I could. I went to CareNow, had them look up my nose, tap on my face, and pronounce, "yes, it's a sinus infection." That's why we pay them the big bucks. So, a shot of steroids in the butt, a day of peaceful rest, and a great weigh-in Wednesday brought me back to life. Pushing through a rough "day after the headache" to Jazzercise in pain and working up the nerve to get back in the fire and blog about it, warts and all - that sent my shame back to its dungeon.
Today, a bunch of compliments - "Have you lost more weight? Are those jeans too big?" I smile, and give a truly heart-felt thank you to each of them. But here's what I REALLY lost - the big, ugly, albatross-riding monkey off my back. And you know? Your clothes DO fit better without it!
So, for today at least, I'm back in the saddle. Just for today, maybe, but Julia got her groove back. I've come this far...what's one more day?
Alleluia.
Amen.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Day 2-summim - 277.8: snaps
I am drowning...
Age I was given: 21
Where I lived: Plano and College Station
What I drove: 1988 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera
What I did: as little as humanly possible
Who had my heart: My high school sweetheart, whom I didn't deserve
And then I learned to swim...
Age I am now: 43
Where I am now: in a pretty good place
What I drive: 2001 Honda Accord (the first new car I ever bought)
What I do: as much as I can possibly fit in, and still not nearly enough (that's code for "elementary teacher and mom of two VERY challenging boys")
Who has my heart: that same amazing high school sweetheart, whom I've grown up to deserve and to love more than "21-year old me" even knew was possible.
Age I was given: 21
Where I lived: Plano and College Station
What I drove: 1988 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera
What I did: as little as humanly possible
Who had my heart: My high school sweetheart, whom I didn't deserve
And then I learned to swim...
Age I am now: 43
Where I am now: in a pretty good place
What I drive: 2001 Honda Accord (the first new car I ever bought)
What I do: as much as I can possibly fit in, and still not nearly enough (that's code for "elementary teacher and mom of two VERY challenging boys")
Who has my heart: that same amazing high school sweetheart, whom I've grown up to deserve and to love more than "21-year old me" even knew was possible.
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