How was that for an extended leave? Over a month and a half? What could have possibly kept me from journaling on my blog?
It's actually been a really good month and a half. Full of ups, downs, and LOTS of self-reflection, but I'm definitely on the upswing right now.
I was really struggling with my weight. Now, by struggling, I mean that I wasn't making forward progress. My weight was going back and forth between 170 and 175. I'd lose a couple of pounds, then relax my resolve and gain a couple of pounds.
Of course, I've been in complete denial for about a year that my stagnant weight could be my fault. I'd say things like, "I just can't understand this! I work my arse off and I can't break that 170 on the scale!"
Oh poor me.So I scheduled a doctor's appointment. I wanted to get a physical to rule out any problems that could be interfering with my progress. During the exam, my new doctor decided that she would like to check my thyroid and sugar levels. Sounded good to me! Then I asked her if years of yo-yo dieting could be messing with my progress. And then she said, "Absolutely. Yo-you dieting messes with your metabolism."
And the bloodwork came back a few days later, and my thyroid and sugars were fine. I finally had to accept that
I am the one getting in the way of my success. But how? But why?
I did a lot of soul searching. And then I had an epiphany.
My body doesn't trust me.During high school, an active life with basketball and track helped me to manage my weight. While I remember feeling bigger than the other girls, in reality, I was at a healthy weight and I was in good shape. (I think the body dismorphia that I suffered from stemmed from being a tall...I was always taller than my classmates, so I just felt big. Not tall, just big.)
Then came college. Again, I played basketball for three of the four years, which helped me to manage my weight. The one year that I didn't play basketball, I experienced my first true, noticeable weight loss and weight gain. The weight loss came after my first heartbreak.
I did not deal well with heartbreak. And thus I developed a love/hate relationship with food. I turned to food for comfort. And I've been self-medicating ever since.
When I returned to school, I took a break from basketball and decided to be a resident assistant instead. I didn't replace my basketball activity with any exercise, and by the spring of my junior year, I had gained weight. I don't remember exactly how much, but it was noticeable in pictures, particularly in my face. Being tall, it is easy for me to carry extra weight without others noticing, but once it starts to show up in pictures, it's probably about 20 pounds.
So in the spring of my junior year, I decided that I wanted to play basketball again. for my senior year. I talked to my coach, and she welcomed me back with the premise that I lose weight. This was the first time that somebody told me that I needed to lose weight. And so my journey began.
I remember getting on the scale for her (I guess before I went home for the summer) and the scale said 142. That was good enough for her, so I was told that I could play my senior year. That summer, I worked at a summer camp for kids as a lifeguard, but I don't remember working out as much as I had the summer before. I'm sure I did, but I just can't remember.
Then post college-I became a smoker. I went from a healthy athlete to a smoker. I smoked for about ten years total.
And I loved every minute of it.
If it wasn't for the offensive smell and social stigma and health ramifications and having a son, I would still be a smoker today. I would be smoking right now as I'm typing this. Why you ask? (Of course you'd only be asking why if you weren't a smoker, but then good for you!) Appetite suppresant, calming effect, stimulant (i.e. metabolism booster) smoking post meal (when I ate too much) and then that feeling of waiting too long for a cigarette and then finally taking that first puff and the feeling of relief that ensues. Yes, it's a drug, which by nature means it's addictive, and I was addicted. For me it was a psychological addiction. I self-medicated with cigarettes.
I finally quit in the winter of 2004... Right before I got pregnant with my first son. This was an intentional quit. I was ready to have a child. I wanted to be a mom more than I wanted to be a smoker..
And I am fully aware, that I can NEVER have another cigarette in my life. Or I will be a full blown smoker again. It was hard enough to quit the twice (which means one of my attempts back in 2002 failed after a year of not smoking), so I don't want to go through that again.
I lost a lot of weight again in 1996 and kept it off until my first attempt at quitting in 2002. In the spring of 2003, I tried Weight Watchers and lost a good bit of weight. Actually I think I was the skinniest I had ever been (without having my heart broken.) Then that summer, I switched over to Atkins and got even skinnier. I relaxed my resolve the following year and steadily gained all of the weight back. Just before I got pregnant in the fall of 2004, I joined the Y and started swimming. Of course, I had started smoking again in the spring of 2004, so the weight came off very easily.
I got pregnant in January of 2005 and gained 40 pounds during my pregnancy. I lost the weight by the spring of 2006 with the help of phentermine, but then that summer my weight steadily started coming back. My weight has gone up and down and up and down since then.
My body doesn't trust me.I have told myself time and time again: "This is it. I'm going to eat healthy. I'm going to exercise. I'm going to lose weight. I'm doing it this time."
And then a few weeks...or days...later, I'd be right back into the same eating patterns.
My body doesn't trust me.And so the last three weeks, I've really been working on gaining my own trust back., just as I would need to do with a friend, colleague, loved one. Every time I feel like I can skip exercise, I remind myself that I need to gain my trust back. It has totally worked! And it makes complete sense to me.
If we have someone in our lives who keeps telling us lies, it doesn't take long before we stop believing them.
I don't blame my body for not trusting me. I've given it plenty of reasons. But who else is going to take care of me? I'm responsible for myself. I need to love myself, trust myself, care for myself, and respect myself.
Oh boy, here she goes again. What's it this time? No carb? Counting calories? Weight Watchers? Exercise? No worries. By the weekend I'll be back to swimming in calories and fat and grease and sugar.And now I am determined to repair this destructive relationship with myself. I will gain my trust back and prove to my body that I can be trusted to take care of it. A lot of damage has been done, and I'm taking it one day at a time.
It has been three weeks now.
I have lost 10 pounds. I weigh 165 pounds.
I am tracking my food intake daily on The Daily Plate.com. I am exercising daily.
I have prayed for change. I have prayed for a difference this time.
Change is on the way. I am making a difference. I am repairing this damaged relationship.
inished. Meanwhile, my husband turns on the light and starts laughing at me...covered in puke.
