Personal Power and Stress

So, I don't just overeat... I overspend and can have a tendency to get on my high horse when I feel people aren't treating me fairly. And, to be honest, one addiction is kinda feeding the other. You see, when a season would change when I was getting larger each time, I would justify large purchases of clothing as needing the new size, and if I were to track my stress, it would be during stressful IEP (work) time or holidays approaching time, or when I felt compelled to go do a family event that the new ensembles would show up in my wardrobe. I would claim I was just trying to find something that fit. Now that I have lost a few pounds, my clothing isn't strained to the limit, and things are getting a bit looser on me, but I was still in need of that new clothes smell, and I got a little spendy this past week or so.
I want to be powerful and save my money, so that I can get out of debt and save a bit to help send kid number two to college, and pay back my college loan for my Masters and maybe do one last fun family vacation before the kids get all attached and unavailable during their break times. I also kinda want Starbuck's daily or at least once weekly... and I justified the purchase of some jewelry this weekend, at the POW-WOW, claiming that the limited time of the event was motivation for the purchases...could have just gotten one thing.. bought 4 things... and when my husband was sitting in his bathrobe this morning with a furrowed brow and his computer in his lap when he was generally in the shower at 6:35 am, I realized that my spending might have gone a tad overboard, and sure enough he was borrowing from one account to cover the other, so that we could make it until Friday without overdrafting...
And the guilt. In my logical mind, the guilt is noticed as an event, but it doesn't stick as I have power over the choices I make in this moment but the stuff I did already or the stuff I have yet to do is kinda stuff I can't control. So logically, I laugh at the limit in my space... HaHa. But realistically, I am tortured. I spoke with my husband, at first humbly, where I acknowledged my lack of discretion, and then I immediately went to things he did to cause my choices... He did this or that, and next time lets try this other thing.
Blame is kinda the partner for guilt. I have a challenge to grow in other aspects of my professional life, and at first things that were said made me mad, and then they made me sad. I have been fussing about these things and feeling put upon for about three or four weeks. I have turned over in my mind the things that I heard, and have turned the argument towards the vile betrayer who is dealing with his or her own grief and blame, and the cycle is just redundant. And stupid.
So, when I feel unfairly treated, I get real generous with myself. I try to do something that will have a long term gratification, but sometimes I give so much to myself, that the bank objects and the over draft fees pile up. This is never my goal, but is sometimes my outcome. So, money stress can send me to the feeding post, or the feelings of stress can send me to spend more money and throwing money after money is just kinda dumb.
The native woman at the POW-WOW this weekend said the answer is love. Love the person who challenges you at work. Love the people who you live with. Love the weather and the people who are changing or staying the same. Love, Love, Love, Love, Love, all the time, everywhere... this is her idea of nirvana. She felt it was the best advice she could give me with my new turquoise drop earrings I was buying.
I sent an email to a woman friend of mine. I was a bit righteous. I had been wronged and I needed her to know her part in it. I tried to be as neutral as possible, but I know that I really did want her to see things my way. I wanted to be all about the clear communication, and felt I was the better friend for letting her know what was what... than the other folks who bitched about her, and then to her face treated her friendly. I wanted to let her know she didn't have to change to suit me, but if she wanted my friendship, she need only ask and respect my boundaries. So, I read and re-read the email. It was the end of a long week, and I was stressed out from the challenges that my job manifested in the week, and I wanted to feel powerful about something. This was something that I could check off of my mental to-do list. Done. Sent. Whew.
I lasted about an hour in my warm glow of power. I was strong and capable. I was creating truth and being honest. I was being loving, but not a doormat. Then, on a dime, my power became different. Oh, no... what if I was just an indignant victim, punishing her for the hard week I had gone through. I began to second guess my rights and my responsibilities. Then, on Saturday, that is when I spent.
Fat covers a multitude of flaws. Like a thick blanket of snow over the top of the broken appliances and vehicles that cover my father's front yard, fat can cover up the fear and loathing that one has in their space. I am just a really nice fat person, is not always the case. I am a magnificent loser.
I am down 16 lbs. and see, here I am doubting my right for professional courtesy. I am doubting my right to be treated kindly. I am wondering if that one lady should have screamed at me. But, no. I am not someone who should be abused...and have another helping. I am one who needs to own my power and let the silly people who want to control me, sit there and wonder what the brilliance is that stands strongly before them... I want to decide to save money and then do so. I don't want to print a retraction on my goal because I get hurt, tired, sick, or annoyed. I don't want to use the challenge I have to justify the choices that I make with food or money. I want to move forward, not mark time in one hurt zone... waiting to tell my story to the next passerby.
Forgiveness is the thing. Gotta let the scared parent be scared. Gotta let the mad Bride be mad. Gotta let the unfair husband see what he is doing, and then relook at the goals and see if the actions and the destinations match up. Gotta just say, "Woops, I did it again," and then try to set it up so the pit falls aren't so pitty and fally. Say, "I sorry." and move on. Try not to buy your weight in new clothes, and try not to eat your weight in pizza. This is the wisdom of the ages.

Abandonment

My son was home, and the frolicking was magnificent. We got frozen yogurt, went to a party, ate cake, and then got junk food like Cheetos and Snickers to watch in front of a movie rental before he had to trundle back to school. But, my heart was not into the eating of the crap. I tried. I really did. I wanted to have butter from the homemade popcorn on my fingers, tempting my teeth to chip or crack as I tried to eat the very last buttery kernel. But, sadly, the food didn't do it for me. I am just not as interested in it as I was in the past.

Son went back to school, and now, dinner is not the most exciting thing on my agenda. The luster of cooking has been missing in my life for a while, but the eating, I was always down with. What will I do if eating doesn't do it for me anymore? Have I been abandoned by my comfort eating feelings of safety and relaxation?

It is an interesting concept. I would have to just get over things. Not be all justified because I had a bad day. Eat crap because I had a hard time navigating through my life. So, I would not eat to satisfy my angst. I would so love that.

My friend, Diana doesn't want to blog with me anymore. Her life is challenging and she is cutting her losses. No more gym, either. I am bummed. I changed the name of the blog from 2 women, 200 pounds 2 years, to 1 woman. 100 pounds. 1 year. but I completely understand her need to trim the fat in her life. Pun kinda intended. It is my mission to loose the weight. It is my mission to do the exercise... Molly might go with me. To exercise with her could be fun. Or maybe just be by myself.


There are all these thoughts about how you come alone into the world, and you leave it the same way. Maybe my abandonment worries are like that. People come and go out of my life, and I get to be who I am with them. Right now. I am Katy Fries, Large and Luscious. Over-weight, but alive and impish and full of love. They can take me or leave me, I really am okay either way... just want to live clean and be honest with myself and others. Those who have found me "too much", or "over-kill" are fine to take a step or two back, and either watch from the sidelines or move to a different channel.

So, food didn't comfort me today, and my grand plan of having my friend and I take this weight loss journey together is toast as well. I just have me, and my magnificent kids, cute husband and a desire to be well. My friend Diana will cheer from the side line and have her own experiences.

It is down to me, now. I will try to reaffirm my goals and make good progress with the diet and exercise. We will see how I do.

Ownership and Blame

I have been looking at who is responsible for my flabby stomach, flippy- floppy Aunt Matilda upper arms, and multiple chins. I know it is me. I put the food in my mouth. I allowed the food to calm my nerves. I allowed the bad habits and lethargy to become status quo. Annie's mailbox today had some tragic tale of a Mom who suddenly found herself blamed for her adult children's self esteem and failed marriage. Annie's writers said, "Some children never mature sufficiently to take responsibility for their own lives. It is easier to blame Mom or Dad for whatever problem or unhappiness they have." (10/7/09 Auburn Journal).

My sister-in-law was discussing her lap-band surgery success of a 40 lb. loss. She did look slimmer in face and upper arms, but she grabbed her hang-y down-y belly and said, "This is the result of a 13 lb. baby." Her 5 year old was responsible for her 'gut gone wild'. She did not feel responsible for the creation of the thing, so her next idea was to get her stomach "cut off", her boobs "reshaped" and then the devastation that child bearing had wreaked on her body could be erased through the magic of plastic surgery.

I have a surgical consult for my wrist cyst tomorrow. I am supposed to see what the doctor can do to stop this obnoxious bump from aching and swelling at random times, with no apparent cure. Helpful people have told me it is a Gideon's bump... and needs to be whacked soundly with a bible or heavy book. I have 4 or 5 times now let my family go at me with a giant tome. Harry Potter's final book was the last book that my husband and daughter whacked me with. Hurt, but I still have the bump... I think that they held back. But surgery scares me a bit. The what-if factor of nerves being involved worries me, and I kinda want to go to the acupuncturist and the herbal gal and maybe see if a liver cleanse is what I really need. Right side of the body, wrist, shoulder and knee are all liver related, and they all hurt, and maybe if I drank olive oil and lemon juice, the bile ducts in my liver would spew forth thousands of crystalized "stones", since my gall bladder isn't around to handle them anymore... they might just be clogging up the works, so I could have this blockage in my chi and that could be the reason I gots pain.

So, I admit that I am a little nervous about surgery. I have been messed with about 4 times. Wisdom teeth... that went okay when I was 19. There was the ovarian cyst when I was pregnant with Molly. (Really pretty scar from that.) Gall bladder went away right after we moved in here to Auburn house, and I was taking care of my mother and the one I am most glad I got, was the TVP... This cinched up my uterus so it didn't squash my bladder and make me pee down my leg. (This was my favorite of the 4). The cyst and gallbladder were both emergency-ish and the doctor's told me that the surgery was very much my only option. The TVP was one that made sense, as the peeing prevented me from exercise and smelling like urine for 16 years was not as much fun as it sounds. I do not regret that one in the slightest... Though I wonder at the cyst... was it an ectopic twin for Molly? Could I have done a cleanse and repaired my gall bladder, as it seems to be an organ that actually does a pretty important job for the body?

I weighed this morning and I was 276. That is down 14 pounds from my starting point of 290 lbs. I chose whether to exercise or put food in my mouth, and that is why I was able to make that change. My 501 jeans are still tight and my midsection still overhangs the waistband when I sit down, so I have more work to do before I can even wear last year's jeans comfortably. When I think about the food diary assignment that most weight loss programs suggest, I think about the accountability factor that it provides. It prevents one from saying, "I have no idea why I haven't lost any weight," because it is simply a math problem for them to figure out the numbers of calories needed to run a body for a day, and the number of calories that they take into the body. Put more in than you need, and you aren't going to see reducing results. Just Basic Math.

The way I am looking at the food is quality, and a gentle shifting. Add a fruit or veggie into the mix. See if I can cook something ahead of time to just pop in the microwave for breakfast. This is as much as I have done at this point about the food I put into my body. And my results are a 14 pound loss. If I were actually following a reduction plan, I might be looking at a greater loss, but right now, I am happy with 14 lbs. over the past 6 weeks. That is a little bit over 2 pounds per week on average.

I created the shape of this body. I can only thank or blame myself. I have a habit of eating to comfort myself. I have been uncomfortable a great deal in the last 15 years. This is neither new news or unique. Some folks turn towards a hobby, some towards exercise, some towards an addiction. My sin against health has been food. I own the size I am, and feel like I can decide that I want to make myself smaller. As my friend, Diana curls up in the fetal position on her bed today, as the world has overwhelmed her, I will attempt to shove myself into a jog bra and get my flippy-floppy Aunt Matilda arms off to the gym. I am a creator, and I want to make something different than a body that is 100+pounds overweight.

Slow and Steady... wins the race?

In the attempts to change my body, I have to change my life. Getting back to work since mid August has really just knocked the stuffing right out of me, and adding exercise and just a smidge of diet awareness has been profitable, as I weighed 282 this morning, and my regular schedule now includes exercise on the to do list... and I have to take it off the list and maybe feel a bit guilty if I am not exercising at least 3 times per week. But, I saw a picture of my sister on facebook, and I didn't think immediately, "Wow, doesn't she look like she is taking good healthy care of herself?" and admire the little heart shaped face with the one little pointed and imp like chin... I immediately jumped to the, "She has had some work done...." conclusion. Then, all the virtuous reasons why I choose not to have some kind of surgical intervention came swirling to the surface and instead of just being happy for my one chinned sister, I am spiteful and accusing.

It is kinda interesting that Diana is exploring that route, and here I sit on top of my 120 (112 now) pound mountain, feeling all virtuous that I want to "do it the 'healthy' way". Yet I am longing for the one chin, the cute clothes and the slim profile. Two years seems like an incredible amount of time, and so far, in the weeks I have been working, I am a bit ahead of the "loose one pound per week" schedule.... But, getting there seems the destination.

This is something I have thought about a lot. Is it the journey or the destination? I used to sleep in the car on long trips. My husband would be disgusted with me missing all the pretty sites... but I always had the attitude of "Wake me up when we get there." That has changed over the years. I want to see the pretty, be present in the moment and generally allow for the "Chop wood, carry water" before enlightenment and after enlightenment, "Chop wood, carry water" philosophy. But quick fixes have an undeniable draw... In six weeks I could recover from a surgery.... then let the melting begin... the no-effort pretty-ifcation.

I worked out today... I saw that I was there sweating and red faced in the mirror, but I felt good to be sweaty and red faced. I kinda used my sister and the idea that she might have taken the easy route.. (which I need to here state, I have no evidence of.... this is just where my competitive sister mind went, because she has not really been in my life for about 5-7 years, so I can't say what she has been doing with her spare time.... Perhaps she got all sweaty and red-faced in her own mirror). I have to say, I used it... When I thought of her, going under a knife to rid herself of excess chin, or the pulling back of the wrinkles... I pushed myself harder.... I do want to loose this weight on my own, because I gained it on my own, and I feel that the loosing and the gaining makes me a creator, not a victim...

To Diana's journey, I give many nods of respect. Diana has been hot. She has been attractive. She wants to get back to something that is familiar and known. Her situation is much different than mine, and she has different motivators to get her towards health. I respect that she knows what is best for herself, her life and her family. I am interested to see how her journey unfolds and how she makes the choices that get her towards health.

To my own journey, I am exploratory. My body rebelled two weeks ago and kinda refused to help me out in the exercise arena... Maybe a little bit of a tantrum... from lethargy to activity, I suppose a body has a right to throw a bit of a hissy fit. So, now that the exercise feels good again, and I have this image of working hard to achieve my goal, I think I will keep working at the big picture, even if it takes two stinking years to get there... Because, it isn't as though the things that were in my life at the time I gained the weight are all resolved, and it will take some time to untangle the motivation to be 120 lbs. overweight...

So, like the turtle, I must soldier on... keep going as well as I can, in kinda a humpty, dumpty, dumpty, dumpty pace, headed there, focused on the target, and just keep on, keeping on. I guess I have to honor my body's tantrums. They stop after a while, and then I can get back on that eliptical...( The treadmill hurts my knee).. so on I go...

All Behavior Is Communication.

As I watch myself taking food into my body, and feel the somewhat desperate and furtive edge to my trolling the fridge and counters at 10:00 pm, I am wondering what I am trying to communicate. I had a good day yesterday. Exercised (though not with a ton of enthusiasm), went out on errands with hubby and daughter, came home and made jewelry... a nice day all around, but then I am hit with this feeling of starvation, and even taking my old hips up from the place I am sitting on the floor working on jewelry seems doable, as I search for something that will satisfy the 10:00 pm hungries.

I used to attribute my eating to my husband, I saw a connection between some sliding comment and my feelings of inadequacy, and justify that I needed the comfort and the food was a good filler for what ailed me. But, as I review my day yesterday, I didn't have any snarky commentary to fend off, deal with or otherwise manage. I just had a pleasant day. But I went trolling anyway once the clock struck ten and I was not in bed yet... I was really starvin' Marvin!

So, I understand addiction enough to know that the desired item can override common sense, education, and self restraint. If the thing I want is food, then I will find a way to justify the food. If the thing I want is to feel filled up because I feel empty, then I will do much to get that full feeling. I am trying to watch myself and see what I am on about. How does that handful of lunchmeat at 10:00, and then again at 10:15 and maybe at 10:30 really get me through something. Cause I feel like I am going to die unless I get it,or something like it to fill the void.

What is this void, and what is it about? I think I have to get to the root of that and figure out what I am feeding. What am I doing when I eat when I know my body is adequately fed and done digesting for the night? Logic seems to be out the window, and I am in a more primal place of survival. I need to think about what is going on for me when I reach for the fridge after 8pm. Maybe journal a bit, or paint a picture, or have a glass of water... But, even if I do find a replacement behavior, there is certainly something I hunger for. Something that I am not getting in the course of my day in terms of spiritual, mental, bodily, or kinetic nutrition. I will continue to watch and try to learn what that might be.

Who's afraid of the big bad scale?

I took a chance and weighed on Wednesday, and based on how my clothes were fitting I was not fearing the worst... 288... up a pound from last week... So, not as tragic as I had feared. The getting back on the wagon, and getting back to exercise is not happening for me, though. With the swine flu affecting so many people, and me working with disabled kids who don't always practice the best snot management, when I get a tickle in my throat, I fear the worst. But, I think I am having a season transition. It is fall-like weather, with a little 103 degree temperature mixed in. And my body might be a little slow to make this change. I thought I was over tired from the exercise and the running so hard and fast to get school up and going, and my classroom functional, but I could just be experiencing malaise due to the shift in the weather. And there is change at home. So, I will endeavor to keep up the good work, and get back to exercise this weekend. Just kinda needed a week off.... I have to pace this like a marathon, not a sprint... and I am usually someone who likes to hit the ground running and be all diligent. The work I need to do has more to do with patience and observation of my food actions and exercise reactions rather than a will of steel.... I am committed to taking the time it takes. My doctor said. "One pound a week." So far I have exceeded that, and then hit a bit of a speed bump... and now I am a bit under my goal. Portions and eating prior to 7pm seem to still be the place I am hitched up on. I believe I can do this.

The wagon....

My kid was home this weekend from college. I have just a lot of emotional stuff, I ate stupid and now I am afraid of the scale. I fear the measuring tape and I don't want to see failure, but growth. I will go back and exercise tomorrow... then weigh in a couple of days. Just a speed bump in the world tour... Diana had success, which is good. I slept and slept this weekend. Body and mind tired. This getting back into shape is tricky. I am back on my game tomorrow.