Today

Today's post is for Stream of Consciousness Sunday over at Jana's Thinking Place. Join us if you will!



Today is the day. A new week. Begin anew. Reset my brain.

The events of this week have kept me in a state of anger, and I hate being that way. Life isn't just so I have to sit back and watch someone do to me exactly what they accused me of doing.

But from today on it's like it never happened. I am going to forget it and realize there just isn't fairness or justice, particularly when you are dealing with irrational people. The only satisfaction I have is to know that this person will still be angry and stewing over it and I will have moved on. Starting now.

I'm feeling the effects of the weight gain I've had over the past 6 months. 25 pounds. I need to lose about 80, but at least if I could get where I was last summer I know the foot pain, hip pain and back pain will go away, as will the body issues I've been suffering of late because every item of clothing is too small.

I don't need to be skinny, skinny is overrated and I like my full figure. But I do have a very generous number in mind where I'd like to be and I know I can make it. But it's not going to happen with diet and exercise, that's been proven to me. There's more than that going on in this body and the first step is to figure that out, then move on from there.

Dreams and Confessions

Things have been weird lately. I don't know what's going on in my body or in my head but it is starting to mess with me. I am normally not one to complain, but in the words of Michael Stipe "somethin's goin' on here that's not quite right".

I have been having crazy, strange dreams lately. But stranger than that is the fact that I actually remember them when I wake up. I have rarely ever been able to do that. Two nights ago I dreamed about some old friends of ours who we haven't seen in years. Which is criminal since we've been moved back to the south for a year now and are now less than an hour away from their house. It was a wonderful dream in which the husband (a talented singer/songwriter) was playing guitar and singing and we were all at some kind of outdoor party, sitting in the grass, their beautiful daughters were there and my sweet friend Kimberly was being her sweet self. It made me miss them so much that when I woke up I had to send her a message about it and to say how much I missed her.

Last night I had a really strange dream about being interviewed by a panel of doctors. They were interviewing me to go into a detox program. But it wasn't just a detox program, it was a food detox program. Yep, you heard me. I sat there in a windowed office answering truthfully about the way I ate, how much I ate, when I exercised or if at all, on and on and on. Finally they decided that I was a tragic enough case and yes, I could pay for the pleasure of being detoxed and cured of my food addiction. Then one of the doctors took me to the fitness center where I stood, Bambi-like in the midst of a bunch of neanderthal-like muscle heads.

Why on earth would I dream such a thing? Well, the answer is pretty simple. In 2010 I lost a huge (number remains undisclosed, but somewhere north of 40lbs. and south of 100) amount of weight. I went on a medically supervised eating program and lost it in a relatively quick amount of time. As of right now,  I have been off that eating plan for the longest period of time since last June. The reason is that I decided to take a break after my last 6 week, willpower challenging, friend amazing, eat next-to-nothing round of weight loss. After my initial 6 weeks of maintenance, I decided that I would eat normally through the holidays. Problem with this?

I DON'T EAT NORMALLY!!!!!!! LIKE, EVER!!!!!! 

Hel-loooo? That's why I had to lose weight in the first damn place. When it comes to food, I am not normal. I know there are both people who believe this and people who scoff at it, but I? have. a food addiction. I KNOW it. What I can't get a grip on is exactly how to deal with it. So, the minute I came off my diet, did maintenance for 6 weeks as instructed, what is the first thing I do? Well, it was the week of my birthday, back in October. I had been off sugar entirely for 12 weeks and I ate 1/2 of an entire pecan pie. Now y'all. That's not normal. And why did I eat 1/2 of a pecan pie? In one day? Because it was sitting there. Taunting me. I wasn't hungry. I was stressed, and it looked good. And made me feel better.  If that doesn't sound like an addict I don't know what does.

So I think to myself, "OK, that won't happen again. It's over." And I get right back to healthy food, lose that 5 pound gain and try to move on. I told my friends and husband that I would take a weight loss break and eat normal over the holidays. (they were slightly concerned about the speed of my loss and the small amounts I had been eating) And I did. If you call a break eating anything and everything in sight including all kinds of sugar, candy, cake or cookies as if it's my last day on earth. I need help, y'all seriously. Now, I have gained back 10 pounds of my loss. If you knew what I had eaten in the last 3 months you'd be shocked it wasn't more than that. So now, I have to face not only getting off the rest of my weight, but 10 pounds I already lost. Suck!

Add to this the fact that I had gotten into a great routine of visiting the gym on a daily basis for yoga, water aerobics, or treadmill at least 5 days/week. Now? It has been hmm....2 months as well since I have darkened the door. I know if I could give up sugar and get back to the gym, I wouldn't even have to diet. How could I have that much willpower for 12 weeks to eat next to nothing, pack my lunch, watch other people eat, and now I can't even do those 2 things? I try not to be hard on myself, y'all. I try to practice moderation, but it just isn't as easy as all that. Not for me.

The Week in Review

Post-Sangria Art by Me

OK, well, I am glad for once that my week is over. It has been a crazy, confusing, exhausting whirlwind of events. My BPW club celebrated National Business Women's Week in a weeklong series of events for members and local women as well. As the VP of the club and unwitting volunteer to co-chair the week's events, needless to say I was kept busy last week. My friend Brownie (snickerdoodle as hubby calls her) did the lion's share of the work as Chairwoman, but I helped where I could, and received more credit than I deserved. We cooked a Sunday lunch for about 20 people, we organized vendors and donations for Friday's Working Women's Luncheon, she organized a beautiful banquet on Monday and an informative political forum on Thursday. And in between, we acted like complete morons trying to learn how they play bingo (it is different from the last time I played in the late 70's with my grandma!), and had drinks out at a Mexican restaurant.

Birthday came and went. I had an unexpected surprise when we planned to go out for Wednesday night event with bro- and sis-in-law at the "church of our choice", Saint Margarita's holy house of chips and salsa. Hubby and I were exhausted after a very busy weekend and being out Monday and Tuesday nights. I was about to call and cancel on them when I got a text with all the girlfriends included saying to meet up at 6:30 and there were 10 people coming that night. I had not the first clue that plans had been made for everyone to meet up for my birthday drink. The night ended up being a wonderful stress reliever with my besties and a couple of hubbies and we had a lot of laughs, as usual. My lovely friend Rachel arranged for me to be sung to in Spanish. And yes, I had to wear a very large sombrero. Thanks a LOT, Rach.

I wear a lot of hats, but this is NOT
my best look!

Me, Debbie, and Rachel (the perpetrator)

Then I was presented with a GIANT fried dough thingie filled with ice cream and sprinkles. Which I passed over to hubby. It looked great, but I have already gained back 4 pounds of the weight I lost due to birthday nonsense and was trying to avoid any further backsliding.

See, on Tuesday, my actual birthday, I finished off 1/4 of a pecan pie that was leftover from Sunday's luncheon. I don't even know why I ate it other than the fact that I love pecan pie and it was sitting on my kitchen counter. Taunting me. I ate it one forkful at a time, walking back and forth from my office to the kitchen and swearing each one to be the last. I know people who don't have food issues don't get this. I told a fellow BPW member what I had done and she said "Well, that's OK, it was your birthday."
Me: "Yeah, but I shouldn't have eaten it. At all. I am not supposed to have any sugar. For 2 more weeks."
Her: "Wait, you mean a quarter of a piece of pie, right? That isn't that much."
Me: "No, a quarter of the whole pie. Minus the crust." (In my defense, it was honestly not a full sized pie, it was small, but still)
Her: (with an absolutely horrified "who the hell are you" look on her face) "oh."

I was not supposed to be eating any sugar. At all. I know this. For the duration of my 6 weeks post diet maintenance. I should never have even brought the stupid thing home. But it was delicious. Stupid deliciousness. In retrospect, though, not worth the 4 pounds that I now have to worry about. I guess if I can realize that, I am making progress in this complete mind-f*@% that is weight loss and impulse control.

Anyway, to end on a positive note, I was honored at our banquet on Monday night to be one of two recipients to receive a Non-Traditional Student Scholarship which will allow me to continue on my path toward an MFA. It is an honor, and I am so very grateful. So, I guess I don't totally suck.

I am looking forward to all my catch-up work this week. I see in my future a return to water aerobics to work off this 4 pounds and try to get back some balance. If I can't find evening classes, you can look forward to more stories of the annoying "old" women in the classes. They truly are priceless. And annoying. I am going to be better with writing and blogging, trying to get back into a routine. And I have a lot of phone calls to make. My dad, who had surgery 12 days ago, is home and recovering nicely. The tests showed that it was colon cancer, but at 83 we don't know yet that they'll want to put him through the stress of chemo. His doctor was very aggressive at getting everything out when he did the surgery. So we'll see. I am so thankful for all the thoughts and support and questions on his progress.

In an unrelated development, my BFF since 8th grade Amy has invented a new iPhone accessory (also post-sangria) to assist with our damnably slow internet connection here in the boonies. We've dubbed it the iTennae and she swears it actually worked, helping her send an email that "had" to get out. I think it will catch on, patent is pending. Her husband John looks dubious.

Amy, inventor extraordinaire

Anyway, that is all the updating I have for today. Ya'll have a good week!

Confessions

I just recently lost a lot of weight. I do not intend to get into how much, what I weigh, or how I did it. But what I will say is that I lost it all this summer, relatively quickly and it didn't involve surgery (I am too chicken) or becoming a speed-freak. Why bring it up? you might ask. Justifiably so. But there is a reason to my madness.

This isn't a "weight loss" blog, so I don't plan on getting into particulars. Bless all those ladies out there who do. Their courage amazes me. The truth is I am chicken to show before pictures. I am embarrassed to tell my beginning weight. And really? I have just lost it, I haven't maintained it for more than six weeks so I don't consider myself any kind of expert. But what I am? 14 weeks later? I am proud of myself. And I guess in my own little way, I want to let people know that of the million things I didn't accomplish this summer? I got something done that has been on my list for at least 5 years. I was never able to accomplish this much or come this far  no matter how hard I tried. And dammit, I am proud of myself.

I have "sacrificed" all summer long. I have had iron clad willpower. I have sipped on lemon water while everyone else ordered delicious looking menu items.  I missed having 'fair food' at no less than 3 county fairs (possibly a good thing), opting to bring a lunch cooler with me everywhere I went containing the likes of cucumber with mustard chicken, garlic lemon shrimp, sliced apples, and blueberries. I passed up wine at the monthly wine picnics, not to mention all the goodies brought by all my friends. I GAVE UP CHEESE, for the love of Mike!

In retrospect, it really wasn't that hard. Willpower. Food creativity. Sticking to it. Yeah, my stomach growled at me. Yeah, I got really tired of grilled chicken on a spinach salad. Yeah, I could never eat a grapefruit again and be happy. And having to plan every last meal, and needing to know what lunch was so I could get dinner started.  But what was hard? Was accepting in my own brain what was going on. It took me weeks to catch my brain up with where my body was. I'm honestly not sure I am there now.
 
I have been resisting the past several weeks. Fighting an urge to post about my loss and pat myself on the back until today. In the shower (of course), it occurred to me that it just isn't about that. I feel compelled to share this because I am changing. I am happier. I feel good about myself in the longest time. But my brain? Still doesn't get it. After my first 6 weeks' loss (which was really significant), I went into my closet thinking that everything in there probably still fit me. It took a friend saying "Girl, you need to start wearing some skinny clothes" to make me see that it didn't. I literally went through my closet and tried on every single thing until there was a pile of clothes as tall as me needing to be donated or otherwise recycled. Only then did I start getting that it was real. It was happening. People gave me clothes to fit and cover the in-between times. That was 8 weeks ago.  I have put on pair after pair of jeans this week and had to toss them in the new pile of donations. Finally last night, I went through every item in my closet again. Another pile waist high, including most of the clothing that was given to me not two months ago. And still, it is hard for me to grasp.

Don't get me wrong, I am by no means finished with my journey. And I have been so lucky to have support and encouragement from those around me. Specifically my husband, but also my 2 friends Amy and Debbie, who I told when I told no one else, and later from all my friends when it became obvious what I was doing, and most of my family. My mom of course, being who she is, expressed her disapproval of the quick losses in the beginning, waiting to tell me how proud she was until it was obvious I wasn't kidding about it this time.

But this whole process really makes me think about self-perception. When I was thin, in my younger life, I always felt fat. When I was heavy, I never saw how fat I was, I saw myself as bigger than average. And when I was fighting so hard to change, I was utterly unable to see and acknowledge the progress I was making. Even writing this today I can admit that were it not for the hoodie I put on today? The one that wrapped all the way around me? Yeah, I still wouldn't believe how much I had changed. So I started thinking during my shower, maybe it is like that with a lot of things in life. You can make changes in your life, but how long does it take you to "see" them? Or believe them? And accept them? Things like turning your life around, making a decision about a marriage ending or beginning. Accepting or leaving the church. Starting a new career. Moving to a new town and trying to fit in. Is it just a "fake it till you make it" situation?  Life is change. So why does it take us so long to catch up? Or is it just me?