The time has come to pick up the pieces of my life once again, pull up my big girl panties and continue on from where I left the ride. The sad reoccurring theme to my life, the never ending cycle of circular logic. I EAT BECAUSE I AM ANGRY, I AM ANGRY BECAUSE I AM DISAPPOINTED. I FEEL SAD FOR FAILING, I AM SAD SO I EAT WHICH MAKES ME ANGRY WHICH MAKES ME EAT… it never ends.
I guess the real question should be why? Why do I always stop myself from completing my journey. When did I decide I had to “fix” myself? I don’t know but I was a young girl possibly second or third grade. I think that would have put me in the eight years of age range. I am so tired of not being enough for myself. I am a good person. I like to think I am the type of human you might want to hang with. I have excellent communication skills. I love to laugh. I love with my whole being. I am tender hearted. Jeez zus ! I sound like an ad for a shelter animal. “Trish is a sweet old girl who is good around people. She is potty trained. She would do well in any home situation…”
I need to STOP trying to fix myself, relax, be in my life the way I want to be. I would love to move onto the next phase of my life’s journey. You know what phase I am talking about? That place in your psyche where you finally feel at home with yourself? Boldly facing the world and its haters; telling them to go fuck themselves. I don’t need to change! I am beginning to realize that sitting through every WW meeting waiting to learn something new about food and its role in my life is foolish. Food is my drug of choice. Meeting or no the only true way out of this hell I live with is to work through it. No shortcuts, no lying to myself, no eating crap like I am a kid at a candy store.
Learn to alter my behavior for once not my clothes. Live through and experience all of it; the anxiety, the fear, the uncertainty, the joy, the exuberance, the love. I wasn’t kidding when I told you that while I may wander from my place in line, I will never leave the parade until the last float crosses the finish line.
Never Give Up On Who You Are Meant To BE. = )
I can never be anything other than what I am. I am not a prize in a box of cereal. I am not MORE than what I appear to be. I am ME. No bright lights, no sparkle. One of my biggest downfalls is that I tend to LIVE too large and people than have grand expectations of me. Would it surprise you to know that I don’t always know what to do? or how to react? or even know the right things to say to make YOU feel better about yourself? Well, it’s true. I say the things I want someone to be smart enough to say to me. Sometimes the one leading the charge needs someone else to take charge.
I can only be me. If you make me into something other than that, it is on you. I apologize if when you pull the curtain back there is no wizard. Fantasies can be like that all fire and brimstone and no substance. It is usually just ground cover for the uncertainty I carry hidden under a fake smile everyday. I wonder how many of you have to talk yourself into participating in your own life just one more day, everyday?
I have been on this journey (back to the version of me I like the best) for ten months now. It never gets any easier. Everyday I fight with myself about food. What should I eat? When should I eat? Am I getting enough protein? Chicken again !?! Funny but when I grazed on food, like a barn animal, I never once worried about what was in my food unless it made me feel icky. Now that I am on program I am always thinking about food! Last week at my WWs meeting the discussion turned to boredom. Boredom with the food choices, boredom with the all the label reading, boredom with the meetings. I am not sure it is boredom that kills the process. Maybe it is the always behaving? Maybe I don’t manage my emotions (over real or imagined indiscretions) well and my doubt starts to float to the top?
This week when I went grocery shopping I forced myself to buy some new snacks. I bought some biscotti, some wasabi soy beans (scorcher), and some baked pea “cheatos”. I am not bored. I am falling into the “I know what I am doing so therefore I can now bend the rules and have some fun with the wiggle room I have convinced myself I deserve! “zone. I need to be careful! The negativity demons are always lurking in the dark corners waiting for me to slip and fall. It is far easier to walk off with wounded prey than it is to take down a healthy member of the herd.
I sometimes have doubts that I have what it takes to continue on this journey. I need to do this. I really want to do this. If for no other reason than to prove to myself that I am not a quitter. I will find the strength to keep going. Only on a weight loss journey will you hear the words I am a loser, so I can learn to be a winner! = )
I can only be me. Advice I need to listen to more often? Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To BE!
Do you have a favorite food? That one dish you would sacrifice all of your weeklies for? The one dish you dream about? Laugh, if you want but my all time favorite thing in the world is a garden salad with grilled chicken from Steve’s Pizza in West Boylston. Yes, I weigh the chicken. I count the Syrian pocket that comes with it. The only thing I truly CAN NOT figure out is their dressing. It makes the salad that dish I would sacrifice every one of my weeklies for. Yes, I log the dressing too! even if it is creatively. ; )
I am learning to recognize the taste of the food I eat. Food has always been my bestfriend and my worst enemy. In the past I have used food as a mood stabilizer. A difficult admission but I spent years running away from myself, my dreams, my life. I would eat with no other purpose than to distract myself from unpleasantness. Numb my inner demons instead of deal with real issues. My own feelings of loneliness, self-hatred, fear. I wasn’t taught coping skills as a child. It’s a poor excuse to keep leaning on in adulthood. Who knew it would take me almost a lifetime to stand up to myself and demand more because I finally understand my worth.
I refuse to let food push me around anymore. I am the boss of me. I am responsible for my own happiness. I am trusting myself to make the best choices from what is available. I have given myself permission to be flawed. Perfection is not truth in advertising, Photoshop is. Live your life. Never Give Up on the person you are meant to be. Food is my bio-fuel not my friend or my council.
Am I worth it? Is feeling better, healthier, happier, peace filled, worth it? What is IT?
IT… is an intangible feeling; a Je ne sais quoi quality, something magical you can’t quite put your finger on. Am I worth the joy I feel? Are all the wonderful, emotion filled feelings that I am throwing myself into the middle of worth the roller coaster ride? I have nothing to prove to anyone, not even myself. I am learning to be in the moments of my life. I am no longer building my foundation; I am fortifying it. When I am strong, I can stand up to anything, even myself.
I am a student of WWs. Once upon a time ago I made it to within six pounds of my goal. I was anxious about being in the Land of Normal. I never allowed myself to partake in the success I had worked so damned hard to enjoy. The fear of the unknown scared me away from reward. Foolishly, instead of turning to someone for advice or for the strength I wasn’t ready to undertake as my own, I walked away. I am different now. This journey is on a pace all of its own. My body older, my metabolism a tad slower. I am struggling with self comparison. I am frustrated that THIS time my weight is coming off slower. I am trying not to spend too many precious moments dwelling on something that I can not change. If I waste too much time comparing yesterday to today, my mood, my conviction, my belief falters. I want more for myself than a fresh supply of doubts.
Sometimes just like eating, you have to put your stuff (fork) down and assess. What do I hope to accomplish for myself? I want to be able to make it to goal. I want to do it under my own steam and hard work. What have I learned so far? There are still many things to learn about life. Every day dawns with a chance to be a better me than I was yesterday. What have I learned about myself? I am stubborn. I am a wanter. I am a doer. I am capable. Am I working toward a goal or am I floundering? I am working on myself even though honesty hurts, change is scary and sometimes I drop the ball. I am not floundering. I have direction. I refuse to lose my way. I will not give up.
Why is this journey important to me? I want to be at peace with myself. I have learned that my health is not something I am willing to lose. Being in good health takes work. I feel amazing when I make the right choices for myself. I had lost faith in myself. I am learning to believe again. I can do anything I set my mind to. All it took was a glimmer of what might be. I want to make it to goal even if it is going to take more time than I think it should. I am worth the wait. I am worth the work.
Never give up on the person you are meant to be.
On the road of your life is where you experience your journey. Make your journey worth the trip = )
As I sit to write this I realize that this is my eighth week on program. The time seems to have flown by. I am amazed by how much more alert, happy and full of energy I am. Don’t get me wrong I have struggled. Some days I struggle to hold it together all day long. I am not good at dealing with anger in a positive way. I have spent most of my life avoiding the emotional repercussions of anger. The more I try NOT to own a disappointment the larger that dress(anger is just disappointment in an ugly dress) becomes both emotionally and physically. The more effort I put into avoiding how I feel the more likely I am to calm those raw feelings with food.
I have been trying to choose better ways to deal with the things that cause me to get aggravated, frustrated, put out and worn down. I blog. I go for a walk. I call my bestie. I plan out summer field trips and adventures. I window shop for smaller clothing. Odd how a little honesty goes a long way. Some times I manage to talk myself out from under a bad mood or a bad day, sometimes not. What I’m learning is it is okay to get angry as long as I don’t allow that anger to control how I treat myself or other people.
I am beginning to notice my size is changing for the smaller. It is a wonderful, joyous feeling to put on a piece of clothing and realize it fits better. I actually have a little more moving around room. My shirts are getting longer in length as there is less of me to cover. I missed that feeling of accomplishment. It is a nice change to shout “Atta girl” out loud in my mind instead of the dark mutterings I used to actually listen too. Never give up on the person you are meant to be. You got this! Atta Girl!
Week Two is drawing to a close. What a ride. This week I anticipate no weight loss coming my way. Not because I didn’t try. I made better choices all week so I am already ahead of the game. I just let too many things distract me this week. I ate some homemade goodness brought to me by people in my life who love me. This time around, however; I am trying to be in the moments of my life. Guilt is something for a court to decide, not for me to carry around like unwanted carry-on luggage. Who needs it? Not me.
I have made a commitment to myself. Let go of the things in my path that serve no useful purpose. Be kinder to my inner self; stop ignoring that little voice in my head that screams to be heard. I can do this. I want to do this. I am responsible for my own happiness. Imagine how much easier it is to row a boat in a body of water than on dry land. Odd comparison but my whole life I have been trying to row my boat up a mountain.
This week I pep talked myself into getting back on task if I wonder off course. I was able to get right back on track. I promised myself to log every thing. Make myself accountable. No blame game going on here. I ate. I logged. I moved on. No angry thoughts about should have, could have, would have. It is what it is. My journey continues…
I went to WWs this morning. I weighed in (like the courageous soul that I am) and… to my delighted, surprise I lost weight = ) Yippee! GO ME !!!!
Just breathe, believe in the power of yourself and DO wonderful. Never give up on the person you are meant to be.
I love my Pops. Everyone who knows me knows how much I care about this man. People often say to me how strong I am or brave or what courage it takes to face his illness. I never know quite know how to respond to that. I know if the tables were turned and I was the one who was ill my Dad would be there. It is the character you build with the help of your parents that makes you the person you become. My parents had their faults, who doesn’t? They also tried very hard to instill certain values in us girls. Work hard, love with an open heart, be kind to people, listen, be understanding. Give of yourself not because it is expected of you but because want to share who you are with others. Nice counts.
My Dad never graduated high school. He was from an era in time when quitting school to seek a job to help your family was encouraged. I am sure my grandparents would have loved it if all of their children had stayed in school and jumped for their share of the American dream but dreams don’t put food on your table. My Dad has always had a strong sense of taking care of one’s own family. Do what needs to be done so they are provided for. He was a great provider. I can remember him having two part time jobs to help round out his full time job just to make ends meet. My mother was really unable to hold down a job for any significant amount of time. Her mental illness always got in her way. Crippling her ability to cope with every day duties of keeping the house and kids in line. Often my Dad had to be both parents.
My Dad never gave up on my mother and loved her devotedly until the day she died. Funny, he doesn’t remember her now. Sad for me; blessing for him? Who am I to say? I only know in my heart I am glad my mother did not live to see my Pops robbed of his memory. She nearly lost her mind after my sister passed away. I sometimes think that’s why her health declined so fast after Breny died ; she was broken. Both of my parents were clingy after her passing. My phone would ring off the hook. They would often call me to make sure I was Okay. Annoying then, but now I realize how hurt they were by her passing and how afraid they were for me and my other sister. Loss was not easy for either of them.
I deal with my Dad’s loss everyday. He is still here, yet he is not. As the days go by I know my time being with him, laughing, living, crying and just being his kid are on the decline. He will not live forever despite my best efforts. I have become the parent to my parent. My parents taught me what to do. There is no bravery involved. Only love…and love can do anything. Love the people in your life while they are still here to share it.
…if I decide that I am good enough JUST as I am? Is IT? I am done. I find myself on the path of middle age. Some of my dreams, wishes, desires will never come to fruition. I am many things. I am funny. I am a worrier. I obsess about things that worry me. When I love I throw everything that I am into it. Hurt me and it takes near a lifetime for me to trust you again. I am loud. I love to laugh. I love to sing. I love the people in my life. I guess I just want to know that the people in my life love me just as I am. Hot mess and all. I will always be overweight. Does that make me less valuable than someone who will always be skinny?
I am tired of rowing my boat in a circle. I have come to believe I have put my health on the skids by trying to hard to make changes to the ways I eat instead of the whys. I think it is time I under take a new approach by …yeah what should I do?
I feel like it is time to throw my hat into the ring and give this eat better to be better thing another go round. I miss feeling healthy. I miss my ankles and my skinny jeans. I miss laughing and meaning it. I miss the me that was smaller and full of life and hope. I am READY to try again.
for a person who has an eating addiction can be horrible. Eat too much and your tummy may not be the only thing that hurts you. I woke up this morning with a full blown migraine, blocked ear and a sour stomach from too much hot sauce. WTF! Will I ever learn?
I am one of those people who talks a good game but is horrible at go time. I will fix my eating habits tomorrow or the next day or the next week or the next month and so it goes year after year. Sometimes I let myself win, sometimes I throw obstacles in my path that are tough to move through.
Food is not my problem. I AM.
I want to like myself. I wish I could be comfortable in the who that I am and wouldn’t need to hide behind food. I have wasted so much of my time on being fat. I just want the pain to go away. I want to stop hating myself. The worst thing you can ever do is lose faith in yourself. I never even taste the food I eat when I am in throes of my addiction. I am trying desperately to numb my emotions. I don’t want to feel anything; but, I am surrounded by life.
The bottom of the hour glass is filled will the grains of my wasted life. To the casual onlooker it appears to be sand, sadly it is the tiny grains of time that I have let spill away from me unused or wasted on trivial,meaningless pursuits. I know I have less time to write that book, sing that song, love my life, my friends, my family. I feel hopeless. It is not a passing thing. I have fought the way I feel about myself most of my life.
I wasted most of today on self-pity. I have to say I throw a grand party. I blew up all my own balloons and had myself an awesome cry. The toxins from too much sugar are finally leaving my body. I can feel my head clearing. I am still sad but I will soldier on just like I always do.
Until the next hangover = (
it was never about the food. All these years I have held myself separate from all of the things I wanted or needed or cared about. It is not the story but the telling of the tale that matters. I was never taught how to manage my feelings. I was raised to believe my feelings had no place. My wants, needs, desires were of no consequence. I was supposed to learn how to table them not handle them. I think that is one of the reasons that I grew up feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I was a fraidy-cat when I was a kid. No adult ever explained to me that a human body goes through many changes as it develops and grows. I was so fearful I often obsessed with my own untimely demise. My mother just called me ‘Camille”. I was overly dramatic and needed to get a grasp on reality. If it had only dawned on her that I was apprehensive about the changes I was experiencing maybe she would have been gentler with important info, maybe. I taught myself to eat instead of feel. If I eat I won’t need to be in my moments. I won’t get hurt. Turns out the only thing I taught myself was how to buy a bad lie.
Have you ever stood in front of an audience and spoke at great lengths on a subject only to realize that no one is listening to you? Story of my life. I have always felt invisible yet I am not Trish alone. I have my constant companions Fear and Loathing. They seem like nice girls but one never wants to do a thing outside of her comfort zone and the other; well, she just hates everything. It is tough to get one damn thing accomplished. These two scream in my thoughts for attention. Thank Gawd for that ray of sunshine called Hope. I love her. She makes everything seem possible. She speaks quietly, determined to be heard, she lurks in the background waiting for her moments. Her moments are the life changing ones. That voice in your head that says, “I can do this!”, ” I am worthy.” “I crave acceptance not food.”, “I am somebody.” I wish I could learn to listen to her more.
When you take Hope by the hand and embrace all that she has to offer, the possibilities seem endless. Live in the moments that make your life better.
Today I took Hope to a WWs meeting. It’s time for her to make another appearance in my life. I lost my way. I tabled the belief I had in myself because my life got hard. I have taken care of my Dad for nearly eight years. He lives with dementia. Over the Christmas holidays my Dad was placed into a nursing home. For the first time in a very long time, I can relax a tad. Enjoy my moments, have some Hope that tomorrow will be better. I learned a lot about myself in those eight years. I am stronger than I thought I would ever have to be. I can be tough. I am a loving person. I learned how to hug. I lied to myself for years that I was unhuggable. Hugging someone means being so close to a person that you share the good vibe, exchange chakra. There is a warm glow sensed between the hugger and the huggy. A good hug equals total acceptance from me. The person who I am hugging has earned my respect, my trust. I also learned that sometimes when you hug someone you give them a little of your Hope. In the giving of a small part of yourself you make someone else’s battle seem worth the fight.