Loud and not proud

Excuse me while I dust off the cobwebs.

There. That's better.

Hi, friends. Yes, it's been since June since I've blogged. Yes, I'm still struggling. Yes, I'm still trying.

So there's that.

Besides my weight gain, and my clothes not fitting the way I'd like, I think I'm most bothered by my emotional state. I find myself, more and more, choosing food over events. Over people. Over everything.

Not only am I choosing food, but the self talk in my head, which I've always struggled with, has become resoundingly negative. And super duper loud. It's keeping me awake. It's keeping me from wanting to do things.

All parts of the old me who keep creeping up again.

Though I've never fully gotten rid of the negative self talk, at some point I was stronger to resist it and shoo it away. Now it feels like a dark evil force that strangles my every thought.

I don't mean to be so dramatic about it. Clearly, I hate dramatics (wink, wink). But seriously, it's a gravitational pull lately.

As an example. Last night I dragged my fat a$$ booty to Cardio Fusion for the first time in like a month. I worked hard, but the entire time, all I could think about was my jiggling stomach, my flapping arm flab, how much I'd let myself go. Why couldn't I focus on the good things I was doing for my body?

My negative self image has permeated my life and is working at a new level. It causes issues in my job, with my friendships and with my relationship. My sweet boyfriend, who never yells at me, has once or twice raised his voice to say, "STOP IT. You are talking about the woman I love. And I'm sick of it."

He's right. I'm sick of it, too. This is certainly not the first time I've talked about my self-loathing. But I know for sure it's what's keeping me stuck.

I had a wonderful therapy group for years, but our leader moved and we disbanded. I miss them. I miss having an objective sounding board. I know I need that. So I'm going to look for a new counselor and get this stuff in control.

It's making my head hurt.

Fact or friction?

I remember distinctly the first time it happened to me.

I was about 12 years old and my Girl Scout troop and I were serving as pages at the Capitol. I'm not sure why I wasn't wearing my uniform, but I was wearing my favorite sweater dress. Royal blue and highlighted with slightly shimmery stars, it complemented my perfectly teased bangs and pink and blue eyeshadow, giving me what I thought was a perfect look. For 1987. This was a formal occasion and bare legs were forbidden. So my mom bought me a trusty egg-shaped container of L'eggs pantyhose (in the suntan shade, of course) and I set out for my day as a political genius in the making.

I walked all day. All. Day. And by the end of it, my thighs were burning. The pantyhose, combined with my very, um, mature-for-my-age thighs, had caused chafing that was enough to make a Rockette weep. But, of course, a Rockette, with her danced-to-perfection thighs probably doesn't have to worry about the awesomeness of chub rub.

Chub. Rub.

It's a terrible name. But it's appropriate. Do a Google search and you find all sorts of ways to combat it (my favorite, in case you're wondering, is the Monistat Chafing Relief Gel. It's a Godsend in the summer). That fateful day at the Capitol--walking home like a cowboy after a long trailride--was my first realization that sometimes being overweight is physically, burningly painful.

I had an acquaintance once. We'll call her Mona. One day I was talking frankly about chafing, when Mona exclaimed, totally seriously, "Wait, you mean your thighs touch?" She ran to the bathroom and came back. "It's so weird," she said. "My thighs don't touch!"

Yeah, no sh*t, Skeletor.

Mona had never had the experience of wearing shorts on a summer day while subtly opening her legs just enough to try prevent her thighs from fighting to consume the fabric between them.

She'd never worn out a hole on her favorite pair of jeans. Or tried to staple them back together. OK, that one might just be me.

And she'd had never poured baby powder down her legs in a futile attempt to rid herself of a big-thigh heat rash.

So yeah, my thighs touch. They rub together. They physically argue sometimes over which one should be on top. And they might always do so.

Yesterday, I wore a hole in my favorite pair of work pants. It kind of broke my heart. I hadn't done that in a long time. This shows me a few things. First of all, I need to buy some new pants. Obviously I'm wearing the ones I have way, WAY too much. But that's because I'm not thrilled with my size and don't want to buy more pants. So now I'm still this size and minus one pair of pants.

It also reminded me so much of my heavier days. And it reminded me that I don't ever want to go back to them again. It made me realize how much I truly want to be the best me I can, even if my thighs might always rub together a little bit.

So I'm throwing out my holy pants and forging ahead. Forever.

But if this entry leaves you as surprised as Mona that some people's thighs touch (Your thighs touch? So weird!), I'm just not sure we can be friends. No offense.

Newbie no more

I finished my "first week" of Weight Watchers.

Today was the first time in a months that I'd weighed two weeks in a row. And it wasn't too bad. I am down 2.2.

In looking at last week, I can see the things I did that helped me lose that 2.2, but I can also see the things that prevented me from losing more (not that I'm not happy with my loss).

Things I did well:

• Prepared meals and stuck to what I made, rather than deciding I didn't want it and going out to lunch instead. This is always a biggie for me.
• Stayed focused, especially during the work week. I didn't let any work or personal stress interfere with my health goals.
• Worked out four times.
• Stuck (for the most part) to one Diet Coke a day (water the rest of the day).
• Tried to incorporate protein into all my meals, including snacks (e.g. bananas with a little peanut butter).
• Avoiding the work candy dish ALL week (pretty proud of this one).

Things I could improve:

• Thinking I can have a "cheat day." My BF and I decided to order pizza Friday. I declared that I had been good all week and I deserved a cheat. This may be true. However, at the same time, I need to realize that I'm still pretty vulnerable and I just can't do that right now. 
• No more candy smuggling. We went to the movies Saturday and I got a bigger purse so I could smuggle in some candy for us (yes, I'm a terrible person). That's not necessary. Maybe I should try smuggling baby carrots?
• My mindset in general during the weekend. I really let my guard down a lot, but at least I got up yesterday refocused.

So overall, I had more good days than bad, and that's my whole goal right now. Victory was mine this week.

One down, lots more to go. On to the next week.

Introducing our newest member

What? Is she seriously blogging TWICE in one week? Could it be true?

I know! I'm kind of amazed myself. At any rate, here I am.

Tuesday I went to Weight Watchers and told my leader, Dee, I was starting over. I've been going to my meetings without weighing in for a long time now, and that's not helping. So, I got a new weight record and am treating this like a new beginning.

Dee was all for it. She started the meeting and said "Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to our new member, Erika." And you know what? It really did feel like a fresh start. It feels good to think about leaving behind the past several months. I've still kept off 100 pounds. I'm going to hold onto that.

When I went completely out of control at The Ronald Saturday, I was so miserable. I feel like it was a bit of a back-breaking straw for this camel. I need to remember how much I WANT this. And how much I have inside of me to make it happen. I WILL see this through. I have to.

I've had a great few days. I feel a new motivation within me. My food has been on track. I've worked out every day. And I've tried to curb the negative talk.

OK, so that last one is still my biggest struggle. For instance, yesterday I went to one of the really tough workout classes offered here at Children's. It's the same class that actually made me cry the first time I took it. And even yesterday, I held back tears. See, this class is no joke. It's interval training, so we do a minute or so of cardio,  followed by a minute or so of weights, etc., for 30 minutes.

The first time I went, I thought "Oh, I can do anything for 30 minutes." Except when I thought I was going to die and looked at the clock, only about 7 minutes had passed. Needless to say, it's among the hardest 30 minutes I've ever experienced.

Sometimes, like yesterday, I walk out of that class feeling worse about myself than when I walked in. I can't keep up with everything (though to be honest, few people can), which makes me feel like a failure. That's clearly the wrong attitude. I should be proud just for trying. I'm working on it.

As always, thanks for sticking by me--through my real failures and made-up ones. 

Weekend of back and forth

Stop beating yourself up. Be kind to yourself. Remember how far you've come.

These are just a few of the words that expressed the overall sentiment from my Facebook followers during my weekend at The Ronald.

For those of you who don't follow me on Facebook (and there's a little link on the right of this page if you'd like to start), let me give you a little recap of my weekend.

Friday

I'm at the Ronald this weekend. If I don't post, someone bug me to make sure I'm not rocking in some corner, covered in Cheez-Its.

I didn't have a chance to bring food with me this weekend, so I'm going to just be aware of everything I eat and try not to overdo it. Dinner was fried chicken, mac & cheese, salad and biscuits. I had a little bit of everything. But not a lot. And that feels like a win.

Impending challenges--the storage room is much fuller than last time. And the Bakers' Club is coming tomorrow. Time to get my suit of armor out of storage.

Saturday 

For the first time I can remember, the breakfast crew didn't make eggs. Just pancakes, bacon and sausage. I had two small pancakes with some sugar-free syrup, a piece of bacon and half a piece of sausage. I think my challenge for the weekend is maybe not to be super restrictive, but just to be moderate. It's something I've been struggling with for a while, so this is a good way to face it head on. 

The Bakers' Club is making peach cobbler! Yay! I HATE cooked fruit, so won't even be tempted. We also recently got a fancy Ninja blender, so I made smoothies for the House. I miss the days of my beloved (but quickly broken) Nutribullet. Those of you who know me in real life know I have been obsessed with wanting a Vitamix lately. That want just got reinforced.

Felt myself going off the rails earlier. Chick-Fil-A dropped off extra sandwiches. The chocolate chip cookies were begging me to eat them. Before it got too out of control, I came down to my room and painted my nails. It's hard to keep reaching in the cookie jar (or bag full o' CFA sammiches) with wet nails. So while I made a couple not-so-great choices, I at least put on the brakes before I ruined it all.

 And the doozy from Saturday night:

I remember a time when I was so motivated to become a new person. So ready to change. Those days--the ones where I didn't have to rely on willpower, but just sheer desire to be better--seem like such distant memories. I am honest enough to say today wasn't good, but I'm not honest enough to go into details. I'm going to bed really sad and pretty defeated tonight. I suppose tomorrow is another day, yes?

Sunday

Definitely have a junk food hangover today. Woke up with a terrible dehydration headache. Still, I'm trying to remember that I have one day left to leave this weekend on a good note. So I started my morning with a little workout, courtesy of my iPhone.  

So far, so good. Had an omelet this morning with ham, cheese and onions, along with a banana with peanut butter. Lunch was a piece of ham and some kale salad. Drinking lots of water to flush out all the junk food toxins from yesterday. 

So, what was the final tally? After I lost complete control Saturday and went to bed feeling guilty and ashamed, I woke up and tried to start fresh. And...I did well. I went to bed Sunday night feeling better (although as of this post, I still haven't shaken my major headache).

I'm so grateful for the support I receive from you all. Often I forget people are reading the entries I write. But Facebook allows you guys to interact with me. And you never fail to talk me off the ledge.

I do, though, want to speak a little to my tendency to beat myself up. 

Here's the thing. I know I've come far. I know I've accomplished something. And sure, Saturday, was "just one day."

The bigger problem, though, is that I'm not in a good place. I haven't been since I can remember. "Just one day" seems to be more reflective of just one good day I have every once in a while. The hardest thing is that seem to know how to get myself back on track. So, as much as I'd like to pat myself on the back for what I've accomplished, I know I'm dangerously close to throwing it all away. And I just don't know why.

I miss that girl who was so motivated she didn't eat a french fry for six months. Who watched the scale go down weekly. Who was excited to shop because those sizes kept getting smaller. Who knew that victory tasted better than Doritos.

Because I don't feel like I'm her anymore. And I desperately want to find her. It's part of the reason I haven't been blogging. You guys don't need to hear me continue to whine about being stuck. I know full well I only have myself to blame. And if I were one of my readers, I'd want to yell at me and say "Snap out of it! We've heard the same thing from you for months now." 

So you have. But thanks for continuing to remind me of the good.

The dog ate my blog

Yeah. March 14. Last blog. And it was a doozy, right? I've HATED leaving that one up there, but I just haven't seemed to find the motivation to write recently.

I'm well aware that I'm in danger of returning to my old ways. I don't think I'll ever be THAT girl again--the one who was basically a food robot, who avoided self-awareness. But I do teeter on the edge of either not caring and/or not believing I have it in me to keep going.

But I'm here.

I have a picture on my desk of my boyfriend and me at my best friend's wedding. I love it. I'm in my bridesmaid's dress. He's in a suit. We look happy. And bonus, because he's so tall, I look tiny.This, people notice.

A few people have seen the picture on my desk, which has resulted in the following conversation (more than once):

Person: "Oh, is that you and your boyfriend?"
Me: "Yep. At my best friend's wedding."
Person: "Wow, that's a great picture, you guys look great together, he's adorable (something along those lines). You look skinny! When was this taken?"
Me: "March."
Person: "Like a couple of months ago, March? Wow."

So, first of all, the picture is a really good angle. Any social media savvy person worth her salt knows all about good angles, amiright or amiright? Second of all, I was a little skinnier. But just a little.

Third of all, maybe the well-intentioned person did not, in fact, mean that I look like a big fat cow now. Maybe I just took it that way. That seems silly, though. Me? Misinterpret something? Crazy talk.

Anyway. I'm taking it personally because it's how I feel about myself right now. So let's break down the things that I'm doing that are not-so right and see what we (or, well, I, at least) can do to fix it.

The problem:
Not eating breakfast. This was a big issue for me before I started getting healthier. Breakfast is indeed the most important part of the day. I recently moved to a new building, as opposed to the one that was across the street from our cafeteria. It makes it harder to get my egg white omelets and I end up either picking up something not-so-healthy from a fast food place, or eating some crackers or something from the vending machine.
How I'm trying to fix it:
I've started making what I call egg cupcakes. I spray a muffin tin with Pam, line each cup with a piece of turkey bacon. Whisk up a few egg whites/egg yolks (I make six of them, so I use four egg whites and two yolks), pour them in, bake for 20 minutes at 350 degrees and voila! You can also put cheese or veggies in there to bulk them up a bit. They reheat great and it makes a healthy breakfast on the go MUCH easier.

The problem:
Not drinking enough water. I actually like water. I'm a lucky one. I don't need to add flavors or lemon or anything else. Just plain, cold water will do. But lately, it's been one Diet Coke after another.
How I'm trying to fix it:
I can always tell when I haven't had enough water, because my headaches are worse. I'm prone to headaches anyway, but without enough water drinking, they're off the charts. I need to stick to my "one Diet coke a day" rule. The rest should be water.

The problem:
Stopping at EVERY candy dish in the office. My candy sneakage was especially bad around Easter. I mean, hello peanut butter eggs.  
How I'm trying to fix it:
I'm working on it. I need to pretend that candy isn't there. Or have some alternative snacks that make me just as happy. Because the candy isn't going away.

The problem:
Going out to eat too often. This is a big one lately. I can tell in the way my clothes fit AND in my dwindling bank account.
How I'm trying to fix it: 
This is always an issue about preparation for me. I need to make weekly menus and get in the habit of cooking again. I'm trying.

And the biggie:

The problem:
Negative self talk. This really needs no explanation, but it seems to be extra rampant as of late.
How I'm trying to fix it:
I'm not. And I know I need to be. My boyfriend tells me I have to give him a quarter for every time I do it. Sometimes he'll say "Give me a quarter" and I don't even know what I said that was negative. It's that mindless to me. I always feel like if I concentrate on this one, the rest will fall into place a little easier.

So there it is. Just a few things I really need to work toward. Oh, and blogging, of course. Next week, I'll make breakfast and water drinking my challenge. I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Thanks for sticking with me. Oh, and here's a picture. Yes, it was taken at my best friend's wedding in March. Yes, like just a couple of months ago March.

 

The whole truth and nothing but

I have an eating disorder.

This is no surprise to you. I have often talked about my compulsive overeating. But I've never really told you the whole story. And as hard as this is, I need to tell you the complete truth today.

In 2001, I was still reeling from my mom's death. I had lost a lot of weight before she died, but I started binging to combat my grief, and my weight was creeping higher and higher. I turned to another commercial weight loss program. I met weekly with a program counselor, and I'd go home with prepackaged meals. I thought that would finally get me back in control.

It didn't.

So when I'd binge, the thought of facing the scale--and my program counselor--was overwhelming. In a desperate panic, I started purging after my most "sinful" binges. It got worse. I eventually was throwing up several times a day.

I didn't have the foresight, at that time, to recognize that my compulsive eating in itself was an eating disorder. But I had seen enough Afterschool Specials to know that my purging was not normal behavior. I knew I needed to see a real counselor, but I didn't know where to begin to find one.

So I did what any good Catholic girl would do. I called my favorite priest. He met me at a community walking track on a freezing New Year's Eve day 2001, and we walked around for hours. I poured my heart out to him. He reassured me. And he gave me a business card for a psychologist he knew who specialized in eating disorders. He saved my life.

At first, I continued to struggle with both the binging and the purging. Eventually, the purging stopped, but I continued to eat.

And you know the rest of the story.

So why am I choosing to tell you this today?

The truth is that only a very small handful of people in my life know about this. The other truth is that I've been struggling again with the purging for the past several months--maybe a year.

When I started this blog, I promised to always be honest. And lately I've felt like a liar. I debated telling you this. I talked to a few people I really trust about whether or not I should write about it. In the end, I took their advice, and I went with my own instincts, too.

See, when I started this journey, telling the absolute truth, even if it wasn't pretty, was the one thing to which I was absolutely committed. It was what set me free in the first place. It released me from the shame and guilt I'd felt for years.

As you know, if you've been following me, I've been stuck for a while now. Maybe the reason is that I stopped being so truthful. Maybe I need to let go of this one last secret. Maybe that will once again set me free. And maybe just one of my readers is struggling with the same thing, and my confession can help him or her.

Rest assured that I'm in therapy. I'm working through this. I'm probably not going to address this topic again. Even as I write this, I'm shaking a little. The truth has a tendency to knock me over sometimes. But I know I need to do it.

My biggest priority right now is to get my head straight. To find control. I've made the decision not to do the triathlon this year. As much as I'd like a new challenge, my biggest challenge is already ahead of me.

Today, I'm starting fresh. With the truth.

Thank you for your constant support.