Moving on

I have been seeing a life coach (wow, how new age of me...) to help me with my life style change (read - diet) for the last 6 weeks. I know I have long had issues with food. Some connected with childhood abuse and some with long standing misconceptions. While I have finally gotten the food thing down and lost 29 pounds (yea me!) I still "run to comfort food" when stressed. So I started talking about the stress brought on by moving to NC, a crazy MIL who wants to run my life and the painful loss of family. I am at a loss when she wants me to consider moving away without my husband.

I just find that so impossible to consider. Make a list of pros and cons, she says. Why? Why can't she help me find ways to understand this new place, new way of life without cutting and running? It seems because that's what she is doing. She is in the midst of a divorce and she just told me she's moving to Florida in 6 weeks. So I guess she thinks this is the only way. I just can't see it that way. Ok, maybe I wish a quick demise for the MIL (hey, she's old and had her life) but I am smart enough to understand moving back to Portland will not make me happy. In fact, if I went without Joe it would probably push me over the edge. It's obvious to me that the family and friends I thought lived for me and I lived for them have moved on. You really can't go home again. Especially when there is no home to go to.

Joe has made me a home. In so many ways, he has been there when no one else has. He reads my thoughts, finishes my sentences and worries about my health. And yes, he pisses me off, keeps the dang seat up and has the weirdest eating habits known to man.

Joe and I want to move to Oregon. We are going to talk about it and if we decide, it will be together. There is nothing wrong with standing by your man. Especially when he stands by you.

It all sounds so easy. Not eat carbs or sugar for 2 weeks? No problem! Eat more vegies? Easy! Develop a healthier life style? Ok! Check, check and check.

I started the South Beach Diet a month ago. I have lost 22 pounds. Some of them more than once. I do love the plan. Well, with the exception of the not eat carbs and sugar for 2 weeks. The idea is to wean yourself off them, reintroduce only the good carbs and continue with the weight loss. I had PLENTY of really good food to eat and heck, this should not be a problem. It's only two weeks, right? Well, I have yet to make it the full 2. Most I have done is 8 days. Which, I have to say, I am thrilled with but this isn't horseshoes and not close enough. On one carb binge that lasted 3 days, I supposedly gained back 11 pounds. I say supposedly because I know there isn't a way to do that unless I ate thousands of calories each day, and I didn't. Just a bunch couple of slices of bread and jam one day. An all out attack on a Chinese Buffet probably accounted for 3/4 of it. So, I would start over again. And again. It was a bit scary to see how easy I could unravel. And how almost zombie like I felt eating whatever it was I had sworn I would forsake.

I know I feel better, even having lost this little bit. I can't imagine how I will feel when I reach my goal. Still, I can hardly stop thinking about it all. Ciabatta bread, yellow layer cake with chocolate frosting, blueberry muffins, pasta ala Vodka, Whoopie Pies, biscuits - dare I go on? I have read somewhere that lab mice become more addicted to sugar than cocaine. The only surprise about this is that someone found it surprising.

The only surprise to me is me. In the past, once off plan, heck why get back to it? This time, I have. And I have tried to figure out how to change things. Tonight, we were asked out to dinner. They drove to the Chinese buffet. I thought well, there has got to be something I can eat within my plan. So I had a pile of steamed green beans and a pile of sauteed shrimp. It worked. Did I want the dumplings, the rice, the sauces, and the fried everything? YOU BETTCHA. But, I was tired of starting over and over. I want to MOVE ON. (I feel a political reference here, but I will save that for another time.)

I find so much pleasure in finding other ways besides food to find fulfillment. Detaching myself from the very real chemical addiction of food is about the hardest thing I have every had to face. Not since childhood have I felt such a loss of my own identity. So uncertain about what the future looks like. What I will look like. But I know I can't turn back. This really feels like my last best chance. So, I will grab at it with both hands and hold on.

Make it mine.

Make it me.

The start of something new

I am fat. Really fat. I don't think that changes the fact that I am really nice, interesting and wildly creative person. However, to many it means I am (pick one) - disgusting, invisible (how this works, I am never sure,) weak, stupid, worthless and I could go on but even I get the point. I have been heavy since I was a very young child. I remember my father spanking me for sneaking cookies to bed. In high school, my mother attempted to bribe me with $2K for a new wardrobe if I just lost some weight. Right now, I would give $2K to be THAT weight again! I have broken furniture, missed out on travel, not been invited to events and generally avoided life because of my weight. I have had complete strangers ridicule me in public. Why is it acceptable to tell a stranger on the street "you don't need that ice cream cone?" There is no "well just don't eat so much" or "just stop eating when you feel full" or "you just need will power." If anyone says "just" to me, i know they have not an f-ing clue.

For many years, I didn't let it phase me. Sure it hurt but it was also my protection. If I was fat, then I didn't have to deal with so many hurts and fears. As a child, I experienced two very profound experiences. One I recovered from. I caught my foot in the spokes of a bike while riding on the back of a friend's banana seat. It was months, years of surgery, inactivity. To this day, I have scares and problems. The one from which I never really recovered was an assault and I still won't pick at that wound. Both have shaped my image, my inner belief system and my self worth. Now, as an adult, I find myself often feeling like that child. Lonely, ignored and misunderstood.

The difference is, as an adult, I can do something about it. And I am going to start something, but in a different way than I have tried in the past. When I think of all the plans, programs, books and therapists I have gone to to try (and I mean TRY) to lose weight, it boggles the mind. I usually have a reason why it didn't work. Weight Watchers (hated the cheer leading and the smarmy upbeat,) Optifast (lost weight and my hair.) Weight Loss Clinic (tried to drink my calories.) Hypnosis (he was creepy.) Jenny Craig (icky food.) Smart for Life cookie diet) (ALWAYS starving.) And so on. Maybe it had to do with the scar I would not pick at. Problem is, none of these programs deal with the scars and wounds of the soul.

I am going to deal with it now. I found a psychologist to work with and a diet plan I can eat. I am going to try and document it here. Mostly for me. Shit, no one reads this anyway. But it helps me. While I want support and have it from my friends, I don't want the condescending help I have experienced from so many that don't have a f-ing clue what I am going through. Don't give me "positive energy" or "I dreamed you lost weight" or "just - (fill in the blank.)" Unless you have been here, before you want to even suggest anything to me, go read Frances Kuffel's "Passing for Thin." Then we will talk. I am not sure why I get so angry when approached with the soft, "spiritual" approach. It must be because I find those people to be self-serving and mostly uninterested in the other person. Their phoniness pisses me off.

I am doing this for me. Not for my mom. Not for my husband. Not for the stranger that won't look me in the eye. Not for the customer who looks a bit worried as I huff and puff up their stairs. Maybe, I will do it for the person who assaulted the child. It would be good to stand up and be strong.

So the journey begins. I wish my sister was here to call out to when I get lost. But, she helped me other times on this road. I will just know she is around the corner. I know my husband loves me and wants me to grow old with him. He wants to help but isn't sure how. I love him for all the silences and words to follow.

No bargains, no bribes; just a promise. It's about me this time. No one else.

Big Boned

I am reading "Passing for Thin" by Frances Kuffel. This comes on the heels of someone I know "trying" to help me with my weighty battle. She told me she dreamed I had lost all the weight I wanted and was finally happy. So now, she is sending me her positive thoughts so I can use them to help me reach my goal. I wanted to throw this book at her and say, here's your postive thoughts sweetie. I am not sure why her comments made me so angry. I am not sure if she will ever understand. I am also not sure I can do what Ms. Kuffel did by losing weight, twice. I so want to but it's so so very hard. I am going to stop now and pick this up again. I have to think and then maybe think again.

No more apologies or backing down

The huge health care bill passed last week and I am THRILLED. Not only will I have a chance at someday actually having health insurance again, I am thrilled the Dems in Congress actually grew a pair and voted as if they mean it. And I am NOT going to be wishy washy about it! Not gonna try and appease my Republican friends by not taking a side, or voicing my opposition to the shitty way the Republican members of Congress are behaving. By the way, I AM AN AMERICAN who is proud of this government. Proud that people I don't know will take a stand for me and try to help me. Not line the pockets of some insurance giant or KBR or Halliburton. Me and my friends, who every day skirt around medical problems because we don't have insurance. My friend Cynthia called me this very morning. She has an ear infection. She wondered if I had ever used vinegar and water to cure one. She can't afford to go to the doctor and her county doesn't have a health clinic. So, she is going to do without the antibiotics. Now, I have heard from some that it's "easy" to get help. Why there are lots of places, they tell me. Not that they have tried, mind you. They have premium plans with their companies, don't you know. I don't understand what is fearful about this health care bill. Ohhhh, "they" say... Government is going to get between you and your doctor..... ooooohhhh. Have you ever dealt with an insurance company? They are firmly planted between you and your doctor and have been for years. They dictate how long you can be in the hospital, what meds and how you can take them, what tests you can get... on and on. Plus, they can't be voted out! So don't give me this Chicken Little Crap.

And while we are at it, if you don't like it so much then all GDR's (God Damn Republicans), must give up Medicare, Medicade and any access to the new health care plan. If it's so offensive, then fine, don't use it.

Oh and by the way, no need to "take back the country." We already did. From the greed, corruption and just plain dangerous people who were in charge for way too long. I am a real American and I sponsored this message.

Beautful Day

Happy First Day of Spring! I would bottle this day up if I could. Too lovely for words. So I am off to throw balls and things for the dogs to ignore.

Peeps and other Peeps

I have many many things I need to accomplish today. It's 6pm and I am sure I still have time, right? So, instead of finishing my company books, sending out bills, working on Easter crafts for the shop and special orders (see, I do have things to do!) I am looking at pictures of peeps. Have you SEEN the strange things people do with these rather common little piles of fluff and sugar? What, exactly about a shaped marshmallows makes people go manic? The Washington Post has a Peep Art Contest. Here is the gallery for 2008 and 2009.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/gallery/2009/04/10/GA2009041001975.html

Then I found these gems -


Peep Art




Peep Olympics

Jesus of Peeps

Kind of puts a whole new spin on "playing with your food."

Happy Mardi Gras. Happy Fat Tuesday.