Eating Out vs. Deprivation

Herein lies the dilemma: We are a social society and most social occasions either revolve around food or it is an integral part of the festivities. If we are to take part in these goings-on, we either have to cave and go down the slippery food slide toward another cellulite deposit on our asses or we have to avoid them like we have the black plague. Not the best of alternatives, is it?

So, we convince ourselves that we can go to dinner/drinks/that party with all the friends and avoid the food. We can pass up that basket of enticing garlic bread, push away that pile of perfectly fried tortilla chips, turn our heads from that cheese-laden salad sopping with oily dressing. We can even say to ourselves, “I don’t need to eat… I’ll just go and get a lemon water; I’ll be fine. It’s fine. Really.” All the while, we’re staring around the table, practically foaming at the mouth with food envy. When friends ask if we’re sure that we don’t want to split an appetizer or dessert with them, we assure them that we do not, while we are secretly fighting the urge to smack them in the forehead with an overdone breadstick, grab their fettucini, and run into the nearest alcove to devour it in piggy-peace. Admit it. We’ve all contemplated carbohydrate assault to get our hands on those forbidden restaurant foods. Who wouldn’t be caught off-guard by a free wand-o-bread being flung at their face or chips thrown like ninja stars to distract them from the missing enchiladas?

What we need to do is realize that we will have these foods again. Yes, we want them. But we do not need those fries/cake/pasta/craptastic calorie extravaganzas. When I was on Weight Watchers before, I made a promise to myself. When I would go out to eat, I would get something mundane: salad, soup, a plain baked potato… Something safe and ordinary. And when I went home, that night or the next or sometime that week, I would treat myself to an at-home version of whatever had tempted me at the Palace-of-food-sin. This way, I control the portions, the calories, the ingredients, the nutrition. I get it just the way I want, at exactly the time I want and I didn’t have to sacrifice my social life to get it.

I still have to put this back into practice. Shepherd’s Pie & fried foods are my weaknesses and things I haven’t been able to successfully recreate. Once I get my weight loss to a consistent tempo, I will allow myself the freedom to have these favorites once in a blue moon. But I know they are triggers for me and I will have a hard time keeping to my plan if I fit these in now.

The (much danced around) point is: don’t deprive yourself of human interaction in favor of weight loss. You can have both, you just have to be able to navigate the temptations with grace & poise, and keep your fingers far away from the flingable free food

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A Gain :/

Well folks, this week the weigh-in did not go so well. I was up .6lbs. Not horrible, but not getting me any closer to what I want either. I want to blame the gain on the meds, or on being sick, or not being able to work out, etc. But the truth is… I need to own up to my share of this. And my share is 100% of the blame. I chose not to work out. True, with a bronchial infection you don’t want to do cardio unless you relish feeling like you’re going to hack up a lung. But I could have done some core isolations. Hell, I could have just sucked in my stomach all day. Even that would have been better than what I did, which was pretty much jack squat. I also ate things I knew I didn’t need, and things I didn’t really want just because they were readily available and I didn’t have to take the time to prepare them. And we see where that got me. Almost back to square one. Well, damned if I’m going to let that happen again.

So this week, I renew my commitment to myself. I will take the time to treat myself well. This includes eating for my needs, not my wants. It includes taking time to exercise. Not because I want to necessarily; because I deserve the benefits of working out. I have a severe problem with self-loathing and I tend to use food as a way to sabotage my happiness or even harm myself because I don’t feel worthy of love or happiness or health. It’s going to be a tough road to change this type of thinking, but here is my first step. If it kills me, I’m going to write 10 things about myself that are good (and you have to know that in my head, I instantly refute everything I come up with… it’s a process. I hope to hell I get better at it. Lol). Here goes nothing:

1. I am compassionate.
2. I am a good friend. I am there when a friend needs me.
3. I can make my friends/loved ones laugh when they need it most, or just let them cry on my shoulder. I am good at knowing which one is needed in any situation.
4. I have to be pretty awesome because so many kids love me. I work with special needs children and I have a great rapport with all of them. That has to say something, right?
5. I have pretty lips. Not the best, but plump and pleasantly bowed.
6. I have very small fingernail and toenail beds. I used to think they were freakishly tiny, and would envy all of the beautiful women with those model-esque nailbeds and long fingers and toes. But mine have character. Small and dainty, they indicate that I have a gentle and caring touch.
7. I may not be the best at anything, but I’m pretty damned good at several of the things I choose to do. I sing well, I teach well, I play piano well (used to be much better though), I knit/crochet/quilt/sew well and I listen well.
8. I am well-read and intelligent.
9. I love animals and children.
10. When pushed, I can be brutally honest with myself and call out all of my faults. What is tough is finding nice things to say

Ok, that took a really long time. And most of these have nothing to do with my body. But even finding some personality traits to praise is difficult at this point. But I did it!! 🙂 And I’m proud of myself. A start is a start, no matter how slow or small.

So until next time, I will keep working, keep trying, keep visualizing and keep making time to take care of my needs. No matter how much it hurts at the time.

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A Yay and a No Way!

Last week I signed up for Weight Watchers. I realized that I had finally gotten to the point that I couldn’t pull myself out of this weight spiral without help. I had reached 230lbs. Or 229.2lbs according to the meeting scale. Weighing that much in front of the leaders of the meeting was the most humiliating experience of my life. One of the ladies working there saw my distress and said something that really struck home with me. She said, “Think about it this way. This is the last time you ever have to see that number. And we’re here to help make sure that is the case.”

That is one of the things I loved the most about WW when I used it before. I lost nearly 85lbs when I was in high school and kept it off until I got into my first real relationship when I stopped using the tools I was taught. He didn’t work out, and since he didn’t, I didn’t want to be away from him for 2 hours a day, so I stopped. I then started the cycle of what I call “happy fat.” Any time I am in a relationship, it is inevitably with a man who doesn’t work out or have to watch what he eats, and so I stop taking care of myself and start eating the same crap he eats because I don’t want to cook two meals each time we eat at home. It’s food I have no business eating and it’s a pattern I need to break if I am ever going to have a healthy relationship with men and food.

In a true testimony of how well this program works, I lost 4.8lbs this week 🙂 And that on top of having my monthly visitor, and going over my allotted points the first two days of the week. I’m hoping that next week I’ll have at least some gain. might even get my first 5lb sticker! However, now we come to the No Way portion of this update…

Last Friday, I went to the Veteran’s Hospital to visit my grandfather. He had had surgery earlier in the week to release 3 trapped nerves and had developed a nasty infection in the incision on top of his foot. They thought it was recurring phlebitis, and so I thought nothing of touching the foot and cleaning the wound when I was there, because phlebitis is apparently passed through open wound contact only. Meaning I would need an open wound to come in contact with his wound in order to contract the infection. I found out on Monday that my grandfather had MRSA, not phlebitis. Great. They warned that if any of us who came in contact with him got any strange lesions, that we should go straight to the doctor and let them know we were exposed to MRSA. So on Tuesday, I noticed a large and disconcerting lesion under my left breast that had not been there on Monday. Again, great. I dropped everything and went straight to the ER. The doc took one look at it and said it was MRSA. I got a tetanis shot, 2 intra-muscular antibiotic boosters and a round of IV antibiotics. They also gave me an antiseptic wash that I have to use everyday, an antibiotic nasal ointment and 2 oral antibiotics. I am completely doped up. And to boot, the doc said that because the wound was somewhere no one would come in contact with it and because I caught it early and am completely innoculated, that I don’t even have to take time off from work. So, possibly life-threatening infection and I don’t even get permission to call in sick. Perfect.

Needless to say, I had to think about my kids. Some of the disabilities my students have include hyper-susceptibility to infections and illnesses, so I stayed home today to give the meds an extra day to work. Tomorrow will be my first day working on these meds, and I have to say, not really looking forward to it. I kind of feel like I’m walking through a peanut butter river with my head stuck in jello. (Food analogy. That’s the diet talking. Lol)

I don’t have a weigh-in on Monday since it’s a holiday, but I will be attending the Tuesday meeting. I’m ready to shed this extra weight and finally let people get close to me again. I’m tired of using my fat as a shield to protect my heart and perpetuate my self-loathing. I’m talented, capable, intelligent and worthy of love and affection. It’s about time that I start treating myself like I am 🙂

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My truck is back…

But my will power has gone missing! I’ve looked for it all over the house, in all the closets, and under the beds; I even went outside calling its name. I fear it has been kidnapped. I tried to find a recent photo of my will power to make up a wanted poster. No luck. I realized it had been about 6 years since I had documented my will power. If seen, please return my will power to The Fat Farm, c/o Big Red.

So, my diet has had a couple rough days. I know, I know. I just started. But sometimes it’s hard to kick habits. I have managed to steer clear of the hard alcohol. I’ve only had a couple of beers, a big feat for me. And I’ve had a sensible breakfast & lunch each day. It’s the nights that are the hardest for me. I get lonely, or I get bored, or I get restless, or I just forget to pay attention & mindlessly eat. But I will get a handle on this. It will just be harder than I anticipated. I think I have a food addiction. Some of you out there will most likely think this is a ridiculous notion. How could anyone be addicted to food when it’s necessary for survival? A drug is supposed to harm you, right, not be something you have to have to live? Wrong. Sadly, food addiction is a documented addiction and all the harder to kick because addicts must face their drug of choice at least 3x a day, not to mention being bombarded by radio, TV and print ads peddling the downfall of their “sobriety.” I think I’ll wind up having to go to a counselor. Pretty sure some of my unresolved issues have manifested into emotional eating.

But enough of the sob story. I’ll get the hang of it. I’ll conquer it or I’ll fake it til I make it 🙂 Have a lovely day, all!

Signing off- Big Red

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An extra blog for the extra on me :)

Well, my best friend and I have just started a new blog on WordPress (bestiesbeatthebulge.wordpress.com). We’ve both made resolutions to better ourselves. She has resolved to lose weight, and I have (knowing how often I fail with that resolution) opted for a resolution to learn to love myself. Right now, most days it’s hard to even like myself, and a great deal of that stems from my insecurity about my weight. I have also resolved not to accept dates, flirt heavily, have any sexual contact with or seek out partners. So, out of sheer desperation, I will need to get a handle on my weight. Let’s face it here; I’m not getting older and the odds of finding the right person and finding “healthy” love are getting slimmer. Unlike my waistline 🙂 But, we have both decided to change this about ourselves. Since we live in different towns, this is going to be our daily accountability to one another and anyone else who stumbles into our little corner of cyberspace. Here is our first post:

“Hello all! Just wanted to take a minute to let you all know who we are & why we’ve started this blog. We are two best friends committed to getting healthy & losing weight, together.

My name is Heather; I am 26 & living in Roanoke, VA. And my name is Courtney; I am 24 & live in Pearisburg, VA. One purpose of this blog is to keep each other accountable and to make sure that we achieve our goals even though we are waging this war in different towns. But we also want to let people know that they are not alone. It happens. One day we wake up and realize that everything has fallen apart. And we’re not who we hoped we’d be. At least, not physically. There are curves in all the wrong places, you don’t wave to friends on the street for fear that your “turkey waddle” of underarm fat will summon the nearest flock of mating turkeys (and what a scene that would make), doing simple everyday tasks is difficult, and you’re sick of being the funny fat friend.

None of us got to this point overnight. It took months, years or even decades to put this weight on. And we know that it will take time to get it off. But we have determination and support on our sides. And with the support of best friends, and anyone else who wants to help us out along the way, I know we’ll get there. To where we want to be. To a place where a better Heather (and a better Courtney) await us, eager to begin the next stages of our lives. 

Here’s to no longer being the funny fat friend. Oh, we’ll still be funny. Pretty damned hilarious, if I do say so myself. But we’ll be svelte and sexy goddesses of humor. And best of all, we’ll love ourselves. And I think i speak for Courtney when I say that this is all we want for each other; and it is.  So climb onboard; it’s gonna be a rocky ride!”

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