Thursday, October 18, 2012

This and that

This has been a good week. Apparently my little dose of self-given tough love has made an impact. My food's been better than it's been in a long time. It makes me realize how much of a difference that makes in my emotional health. I feel sturdy. Grounded. Hopeful.

When I binge, or forgo my goals for instant edible gratification, I just feel so untethered and out of control.

Tuesday, I went with some friends to the local, weekly Food Truck Festival. Each week, the organizers post a list of the food trucks that will be there. I spent a while going through the menus and picking a few options so I'd be better prepared. I had fish tacos (that were super, amazingly delicious), and enjoyed time with my friends.

But on the way home, the desire to binge whispered in my ear. "You're still a little hungry, aren't you? Your friends went back for more food, but you didn't. No one will know if you just went to McDonald's. Besides, you weighed in today. You have all week to make up for it."

The truth was that I actually was still a little hungry. But not enough to justify a whole second meal. And not enough to justify how it would make me feel later. I thought back to the letter I wrote myself. And I drove home, had a stick of string cheese and went to bed. Boy, that felt good.

I've continued that all week. Ignoring the whispers. Remembering my words to myself. Keeping myself focused on how I feel after I've successfully overcome an urge to overeat. It's helped a lot.

I also did something this week I've never done before. I had a massage.

Some of my friends live for massages. It's so relaxing, they tell me. It's the best thing ever, they say. But not for me. I see it as just another opportunity to feel self-conscious. It's never appealed to me. I think when you literally build a wall around yourself with your own body, it's pretty hard to let someone that close--even when your wall is smaller.

But Tuesday I woke up and could barely move my neck. I was really in pain. I had a gift certificate for a free 15 minutes of massage here at work, so I made an appointment.

Luckily, I started small. There was no clothing removal except for my sweater (phew). And she really just worked on the areas that were causing pain.

I relaxed better than I thought I would--and I kind of understood why so many people love it so much. It could get addicting. Maybe one day, I'll splurge and have a real, take-it-all-off massage. Maybe.

Baby steps, friends. Baby steps.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

On the topic of massages, I'm almost 50 and pretty overweight. But I don't hesitate to get a real, stripped-down massage whenever I can afford one. The massage therapists don't care and they see people heavier than us on a daily basis.

When I was a teen, I worked after school in a drug store. A lot of people who came in to buy condoms or sanitary supplies looked so embarrassed and sheepish. But the embarrassed ones were the only ones the cashiers took any notice of.

If you can at least appear self-confident in a situation you consider awkward, nobody else will think twice about you or the thing you are embarrassed about.