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.

Photo Phriday--the Return

It's been a while since I've done a Photo Phriday entry, so I thought I'd throw in a bunch of pics. Most of these are from my trip to New York, with a few special entries.

With my best friend and the bride-to-be, Rebecca.

I was way excited about the snow.

In Times Square.

All of us at Georgetown Cupcake in Soho.

My Valentine's gift from my boyfriend--I once, in passing, mentioned I'd always wanted an old typewriter. He found this super cool Smith Corona from the 1950s. Totally sweet, no?

The front of my card. :)

 

The kindness of others

"Are you going?" my friend Laura asked, armed with her Weight Watchers books as she stopped by my office on the way to Tuesday's meeting.

"Nope."

I barely even looked at her. I didn't have an excuse. I didn't have another commitment. I just decided to kick and stomp my feet and say no.

She gave me her sweet "Ooooookaaaaay" and left my office going where I should have been going.

It's how I was feeling yesterday. It's how I'm feeling most days. All these questions in my head--all these demands of insecure inner demons that I can't shake.

"Why do you keep bingeing?"
"Why are you so lazy?"
"Why didn't you work out again?"
"Why are you gaining weight?"
"Why are you going to let yourself be so hideous at your friend's wedding?"
"What will you do if your low self-esteem does, in fact, ruin your relationship?"

Obviously, I'm still battling some loud, annoying, pesky, hateful demons here.

But yesterday I went to Publix to pick up a few things during lunch. I stood in line to check out, behind an older, slower woman. My first instinct was to sigh and tap my foot. Because clearly I'm a terrible person. She started digging in her purse for money. She couldn't find it.

"Take your time," the cashier said, as the woman became increasingly flustered.

Finally she came up with the cash.

It wasn't enough.

My heart hurt for her. It hurt for me, whose first instinct was to be impatient.

"I've got it ma'am," the bagger said, and came around to use his check card to pay the difference.

My hurt heart was full-on aching then. Such an act of kindness. He helped the woman out with her groceries and gave her a hug, then came back to me and thanked me for my patience as his colleague rang up my items. I managed to choke out, "That was so nice of you," before I got to my car and started sobbing.

I don't know why that affected me so much. It was terribly sad, yet terribly uplifting at the same time. And I was instantly reminded of my own stupid whining. My broken-recordness over my own lack of self control as of late seemed to stop. I remembered my promise to choose joy.

And I started over.

Fatter Tuesday

Laissez les bon temps rouler, y'all! It's Fat Tuesday, and this Catholic girl is ready for the discipline that comes with Lent. For me, it's a time to get myself back in control in many aspects of my life--spiritual, emotional, foodial (OK, so that's not a word, but you know what I mean).

I spent last weekend in beautiful New York City celebrating the upcoming nuptials of my best friend, Rebecca. Eight girls, lots of wine, yummy cupcakes, fabulous Italian food, laughter, fun and SNOW. Lots of snow. A Photo Phriday post is forthcoming, but for now, here's a preview shot of Rebecca and me in Times Square.

So, back to Lent. I'm still trying to decide what to give up. As a kid, I used to give up junk food. As I got older, it was fast food. When I started this blog in 2010 (it's been THREE years this month--can you believe it?), I gave up Diet Coke. Last year, I gave up going out to lunch during the week, which was a good way to stay disciplined.

I think Diet Coke and the lunches thing are my two options again this year, unless y'all can think of something better. I'm open to suggestions, but I need them by tomorrow. Vote now! It's totally up to you guys. Help! (NOTE: Poll removed because of weird layout effects. Thanks for your vote!)

I choose joy

I have a friend who epitomizes what I like to call the "buck up, little camper" mentality. She's positive in the face of adversity. When she's down, she listens to Gospel music. When she's struggling with things in her life, she tries to focus on the good.

I wish I were more like her.

Last week, I was wallowing. Big time. Why am I so unhappy? Why can't I focus on the good? My friend and I were emailing last Friday when I was feeling blah. She reminded me of the good things in my life: I have a job. Family, friends and a boyfriend who loves me. My health. A place to live. So much more than so many people in this world.

What I don't have, she told me, was a grateful heart. And when I was stubborn and insisted on staying in my "poor me" state, she told me she was not going to talk to me for the rest of the day.

I understood. I don't want to be a negative Nelly. I don't want to pull others into my pool of self-pity. In fact, I don't want to swim there, either. It's far too shallow, and damn if I don't keep scraping myself on the bottom of it.

I spent a lot of time this weekend thinking about my friend. About my grateful heart. I don't know where it's been lately. But I'm trying desperately to find it again.

Happiness isn't hard. Sure, we deal with struggles. We have heartbreak. But we can choose joy. We--I--have the power, every single day, to make that choice.

I've been focusing on the negative for far too long. I remember when I first started this journey. I had such excitement and hope. Yeah, it's been a long time since I started, but there's no reason I can't still feel that.

So that will be my focus. A grateful heart. Joy. Keeping my power.

And hopefully, soon, I'll be able to say that my wish came true--I AM more like my friend.

Thanks, T. :)

On my honor, I will tri

I'm easily influenced.

Tell me about your favorite movie. Your favorite TV show. Your favorite lipgloss. I'll probably try it. I'm a quick sell.

But if you ask me to swim, bike and run with you, all in the span of a couple of hours? Don't be surprised if I balk a little. Or even a lot.

My friend and co-worker Elesha is obviously pretty persuasive. Because she has effectively talked me into signing up for a triathlon in May.

Now, before you panic or dissolve into hysterical laughter, let me clarify. I'm doing the super sprint triathlon. It consists of a 300-yard swim, 8-mile bike ride and 2-mile run. Totally do-able, right? Um, right.

Here's how I'm feeling about it all. The run? No problem. The swim? I'm not as scared as I maybe should be. The bike? Freaking terrified.

I haven't been on a bike that moved from the floor since I was 17. I recently acquired one (thanks, Mandy!), but haven't yet had the courage to ride it. There was a big debacle with my friend Carla and me trying to get our bikes sans bike racks into our cars for a Silver Comet Trail ride. When that didn't work, I rode for two seconds in her parking garage, but that doesn't count. So, it's been about 21 years since I've been on a bike. Riding 8 miles seems daunting.

I've never really been a strong swimmer, either. I'm a total water baby (literally--my parents enrolled me in a Water Baby class when I was just a few months old. They just dropped the babies in the deep end and let us have at it.), but when it came time to learn the actual strokes, well, I thought it was more fun to just swim underwater or doggy paddle (of course my brother, the athlete, was the star of the swim team when he was in high school. Cue eye roll.). Still, I think I can make my way OK. I'll just need to practice a bit.

I've shared my plans with a few friends and family members. Here's a sampling of the (paraphrased) reactions I've gotten:

My dad: What? Can you even swim? That sounds hard.
My boyfriend: I can help you with the swimming. We can go to the natatorium and practice. Oh, and I know someone with an extra bike. I can oil it and oil yours and get them ready and we can ride together and you can totally do this! (Insert more cheerleading here)
My best friend, Rebecca: That's really cool.
Me: That's it? Aren't you going to freak out or tell me I can do it?
Rebecca: It's not even phasing me as a big deal, because it's totally something you can do.
My brother: So I have until May to get you ready for the swim?
My friend Carla: Seriously? OMG! Wait. Maybe I'll do it with you. How long is the swim again?
My friend Paul: You mean THIS May? You'd better start training now. 
Various other friends, including my dear LaTonia: Girl, if I could swim, I'd totally do it with you.

I know for some people who are more accomplished athletes, 300 yards, 8 miles and 2 miles doesn't seem like much. But it's definitely a new (and much-needed) challenge for me. It's also one I'm not completely sure how to accomplish.

But I know I'm going to tri my hardest.

Oh yeah, I'll be training for several months. The puns will be flowing. You're welcome in advance.