Make A Wish

Saturday was my birthday. I did the obligatory wishing on a candle and blowing it out, but my feelings about the whole thing were mixed.

Normally I hate to be such a pessimist, but there is something about big annual events, like my birthday, that make me reflect on my life. I take a long-view of what has transpired and what is to come, and I can’t say that I am really thrilled with what I see right now. This year was worse than usual because it seems that I am beginning menopause, and it aint good. First I have to accept that I am really that old. Sheesh, how did that happen? Second, I have to face the fact that I will never have children. Of course I realize that I passed childbearing age a long time ago, but it was still a possibility – no matter how remote. Now, all hope is gone. Thirdly, my hormones are so out of whack that I feel awful most of the time. I am not my usual perky self. Instead I am tired, irritable, disinterested, negative, sore, fatigued, and my mind is foggy.

So you can understand why it’s hard for me to be excited about my birthday when I am fat, alone, and menopausal. Yeah, happy birthday to me. [eye roll]

On the other hand, my uncle is visiting from Hawaii after 7 years, and it is great spending time with him and the having the whole family together. We have been doing lots of fun stuff, and enjoying those things with the fam has kept me from being a complete downer. Plus I know that my uncle is really enjoying spending time with us too. He is so warm and funny, and I have really loved hearing all of his stories about Hawaii and the people who live there. One more dinner tonight and then he’ll be gone again. Maybe we can go visit him there. Who doesn’t want to go to Hawaii?!?!

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The Long And Short Of It

I need motivation. I feel like I am slogging along here, endlessly tracking every morsel with no reward. My long-term goal is to be fit, healthy, and at a normal weight. But that is going to take some time, meanwhile I am getting bored with my diet. I need a short-term goal with a big payoff. Something I can really look forward to, that will truly get me motivated – the proverbial carrot on the stick.

Thinking, thinking …

Hm, massage? Normally that would be a good option, but I am feeling so yucky with all my hormone issues that a massage would be difficult to enjoy right now.

What else? ….

Sheesh, I can’t come up with anything that isn’t food or expensive. I’ll have to think on it a little longer. In the meantime, my goal is 30 pounds. I figure if I treat myself every 30 pounds, that will be often enough to keep me energized.  I should be to my first 30 by the end of the month. Woo Hoo!

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Hunger Game

I saw Margaret yesterday and during our session she suggested that I journal about the question “What does hunger mean to me?”

Can I just start by saying that I now experience hunger. Before I was eating crap all the time and never felt real hunger. I am grateful for my real hunger, it has helped me to know my body and myself.

First and foremost my hunger is a physical sensation. My belly grumbles and if I ignore it too long, I get a bit light-headed and start to feel the need to eat urgently. The longer I let it go, the more indulgent my thoughts of food become. When I allow myself to get really, really hungry what I want to eat is a big Italian hoagie and ice cream. Now I finally understand that feeling is my body screaming for nutrition that will boost my falling energy: fat and fast carbs. Now I know better than to give into that poor choice. Instead I eat a high protein food with plenty of good fats, like a steak, and a piece of fruit for dessert. Those foods send much-needed nourishment to my body without adding to my waistline.

The other component of my hunger is the little devil inside of me. It is the liar inside my head trying to convince me to eat foods that are bad for my body and my goals. In the past, that devil would speak and I would obey, as if in a trance and unable to resist. I was convinced that I was trapped by this crafty captor, forever bound and helpless to disobey. Now, through the guidance of Margaret, I have learned that indeed I have control over what I do. Furthermore, I can banish those taunting thoughts so that I am not in a constant battle with the devil. By practicing that dynamic, I am becoming more adept every day. I make choices instead of succumbing to compulsions, and that is the most amazing change in my ongoing transformation from The Fat One to me.

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… It Tolls For Me

Well, last weekend’s nachos took their toll and I paid the price at the scale on Saturday. I was up 0.4 pounds. I know it’s not much, but it breaks my streak – I have lost every week since April (some weeks big, some small). Now I have a gain. I know it was all that fat, and starch on Sunday – queso and chips, I cannot have it in the house.

Since I can’t change the past, I am focussed on the future. This week I am trying really hard, and it isn’t easy. Over the weekend I attended 3 parties. For each, I volunteered to bring the vegetable tray. I did partner it with a dip, but not for me – for them. Overall I did pretty good. For the most part, I stuck to my plan of no flour, no sugar, limited dairy. The only little slips I had were 5 candied pecans, 1 small piece of organic chocolate, 1 cake ball (made by the hostess and delicious), 1/2 a hamburger bun, a handful of tortilla chips, and several servings of different creamy dips. Overall, leaps and bounds better than a year ago when I would have said “ah, forget the diet for today and just have anything everything you want.” I tracked everything I ate as best I could and made thoughtful choices with just a few indulgences.

Today I am back on plan and have a perfect day ahead. My goal this week is to lose 3 pounds. I would also like to start walking again. Tonight I am busy, but tomorrow when I get home from work, I am going to get my sneakers, and workout wear together so that I can go for a brisk walk Wednesday morning before I go to work. There, I said it. Now I have to do it.

This Saturday at the scale, there will be no bells tolling for me, only the sound of cheers as I reach my goal of 3 pounds. Yeah for me!

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One moment I am convinced that I have my food issue licked (pun intended) and the next moment I am daydreaming about grilled cheese sandwiches and cupcakes.

I went a little nuts over the weekend with the nachos and smores. I was so sick from all the chemicals, fat and sugar I felt awful.

Conversely, yesterday I had lunch at a vegan/raw food restaurant and loved it. I had a delicious satisfying meal that was actually good for me. It made me think that I could eat this way every day, feel this good every day, and lose weight every day.

Of course then I thought, “Every day?” Does that mean I can never have a cosmo at a cocktail party, a hot dog at a cookout, or one of Grace & Shelly’s amazing cupcakes on my birthday?” My thinking is so all-or-nothing. I love the way I feel when I eat food that is good for me, like my lunch yesterday. Everything was organic, hormone, gluten, and dairy free while still being delicious. The meal satisfied my hunger, my foodie, and my health conscious self. I thought to myself that if I ate that way all the time, maybe the weight would just fall off, my hormones would balance, my skin would clear, my blood pressure normalize and I would feel better than I have in decades. Then suddenly I was filled with fear and dread – what about …

I began naming my favorite treats one by one: Grace & Shelly’s Cupcakes, Shula’s steak and baked potato, Chipotle’s barbacoa burrito, Tommy Bahama’s coconut shrimp, mom’s meatloaf, The Pub’s fish & chips, and so on.

What am I afraid of? I am afraid that I don’t know how much is too much. If I eat healthy 6 days a week and allow myself a treat on Saturday, will I destroy the health benefits of eating all the cage-free, non-gmo, grass-fed stuff? Will my hormones forever be screwed up? Will having that treat slow my weight loss? Trigger a binge? How bad is it.

I am feeling overwhelmed. I just want to go to sleep, and quiet all the voices in my head.

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Big Slip

Well, I suppose somewhere in the back of my mind I always believed that it would happen, and now it has. I had a giant slip yesterday; bingeing and purging. After an especially stressful afternoon, I made a few stops on the way home for a variety of “treats”. Upon arrival I consumed it all in 30 minutes: a small bag of ruffles, 2 doughnuts, 2 slices of pizza, and 2 more doughnuts. I waited 10 minutes, then headed to the bathroom to purge as much as possible. I did so until the blood vessels in my temples ruptured. Then I brushed my teeth and took a nap on the sofa. Lovely.

I have been keeping the binges at bay for so long now, I am uncomfortable even confessing that I did it again. I am so disgusted by that behavior. Today I am back on track with my food plan and feeling better – mentally and physically.

The big question remains. Why did I feel the need to do that? Why indeed. Hmm. Well, um. It’s hard to know really, now that it’s passed. I should have stopped, in the moment, and just sat with my feelings for a few minutes. But truthfully, I just wanted to feel better, or feel nothing. Just not feel frustrated and overwhelmed.

I don’t think my out-of-whack hormones helped the situation any. But honestly, no matter what the situation, I cannot resort to bingeing. It must not be an option. I so well know that food is not the answer to my emotional issues. Let’s make this last time, the last time.


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Good News Bad News

The good news is there is no more queso dip in the house. The bad news is I ate it all. Yes I ate in entire jar of Tostitos queso blanco with tortilla chips in just 3 days. That won’t be good for tomorrow’s weigh in. But now I know that I cannot have that in the house. That it is impossible for me to have just a little of that delicious, warm, cheesy, spicy goodness.

Maybe I will write a lamentation of my longing for the forbidden cheese.

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