Ghosts of blogging past, present and future

First of all, hi! And a big welcome to all my new followers and readers! I hope you’ll take some time to go back and read some older entries. Through the Facebook page, I’ll post some throwback posts with some of my greatest (or worst) hits. I hope you’ll stay a while.

I spent some time during the weekend rereading old blog entries. And the fear started creeping into my heart. Then the doubt. Then the negativity. First of all, I remembered all the feelings that came with the posts I read—both the successes and the not-so successes. But then I started to worry.

Do I have anything else to say? Am I going to repeat myself? Again with the dang broken record.

Honestly, I probably will repeat myself. Where I am now is somewhere I’ve already been. At least physically. Mentally and emotionally, things are different—and hopefully I can express that. Still, there will probably be many times where things will sound familiar to me and you. I have to just trust that it’s all part of the journey.

Speaking of journeys, let’s start with where I am now along this sometimes-crooked, sometimes-hidden path of mine.

Weight

So. It’s tough to admit, but here goes. I’m up about 50 pounds from my very lowest weight. There. Now you know. However, I’m looking at it as I have managed to keep off more than 80 pounds, and that’s pretty OK, right?

Food addiction

My constant battle. I don’t think it will ever really go away. Still, I do less full-on bingeing than I used to, I’d say. Part of the reason is that I’m now living in sin with my fiancé and it’s easier to just eat crappy foods as part of the normal routine. This is NOT good. His schedule is completely opposite of mine right now. He’s working a lot of nights and sleeping during the day, so I’m feeling a little lonely and sorry for myself in the evenings. That can lead to emotional eating. He knows this, though, and is more than supportive. Two examples. Last week, I woke up with an upset stomach and stayed home from work. He brought me some ginger ale and crackers. Two days later, he told me he threw out the crackers, because he knew I couldn’t have them in the house. I was sad and happy. Sad, because I really wanted to EAT ALL THE CRACKERS. And happy that he knew to throw them out. Oh, and he also threw them into the outside garbage can. He really knows me.

Example No. 2. I really had a weird reaction to getting engaged, as I mentioned. I went through a strange little sad period. During said sad times, he came home and noticed some things I bought at the store. “What’s going on? Cheez-Its? Ice cream? Why are all your trigger foods in the house?” Yes, he called them trigger foods. Yes, he knew those particular foods are among my very biggest offenders. After I cursed myself for telling him too much, I was grateful that he knew me well enough to gently ask about how I was feeling—just based on those foods.

Exercise

I recently joined my local YMCA. I love it, and love some of the challenging classes I’ve been taking. It’s motivated me in some new ways. I also gained a German Shepherd through my relationship and I enjoy taking her for walks. Though we both could use more of these walks. She’s a lot, as I like to say (so am I, some others might say).

Wedding

We have set a tentative date for Oct. 23. I’ve got nothing so far, except my shoes. Yep, no dress, no venue. But I’ve got fabulous shoes! He and I are paying for this ourselves, so it’s a little scary, budget wise. Venues are ridiculously overpriced. I just want a barn in the middle of a field with a bunch of twinkly lights (seriously, if you asked me my biggest priority for my wedding? Lighting. True story.), but unfortunately that rustic theme is super trendy right now. And trendy = holy crap, we can’t afford that! So, we’re looking at some alternatives and may end up in a high school gym. Just kidding. Sort of.

Now the important thing.

Where do I want to be?

Right now, my wedding is kind of my focus when it comes to my weight. I don’t mean hitting a certain number. I mean feeling healthy. I mean feeling beautiful. And mostly, I mean, not ONE SINGLE TIME muttering the phrase, “I’m such a fat cow,” on my wedding day. Will I be at my goal weight by then? Probably not. But I want to feel like I’m in control. And that is something I know I can do. Because I’ve done it. Well, not gotten married, of course, but I have been in control.

Also, it’s one of the reasons I was so compelled to restart regular blogging. I’m terrified of losing my mind, freaking out and EATING ALL THE CRACKERS (or whatever) because of my wedding. I can’t let that happen. And I know I’m never more in control than when I’m really talking about things with friends, family and my reader-friends.

As for this blog, I’m planning to make some tweaks here and there as far as layout and things. I also bought a domain, and as soon as I become an expert web designer, I’ll move us over there. I hope you’ll be patient with me.

So there we are. Here I am. I’d love some updates from you guys. What are your goals? Your fears? Your motivations? Fill me in.

Thank you so much for supporting me. Even if I am going to repeat myself.

Even if I’m going to repeat myself.

Erika is losing it—Take...73?

It happened twice. In two days. And now I can’t ignore that it’s probably a sign.

Last week, the week during which we share thanks with our family and friends, I had two instances that reminded me why I need to get back to blogging. 

First, my Weight Watchers leader told me that at another one of her meetings, members were sharing about who or what has inspired them during their weight loss journeys. One of her members sweetly mentioned my blog and said it had inspired her to begin steps toward better health.

The very next day, I went to a Zumba class. A friend was talking to another girl and introduced me. As we said hello, she said “I feel like I know you. Have we met before?” When I said I wasn’t sure, she said, “I feel like I know you like this”—and waved her hand indicating she recognized me dressed in workout clothes. I asked her if she might know me from my blog. “Yes! That’s it. I loved your blog!” she said.

Twice. In two days. And I haven’t written an entry since July. Hmm. Methinks that’s more than a simple coincidence.

Why did I stop blogging? 

Well, truth be told, I got tired of feeling like a broken record of a roller coaster. Up and down and ‘round and ‘round. Not only did *I* get tired of feeling this way, I figured you guys must be tired of reading about me feeling this way. That’s a lot of feelings. And you know what I do with my feelings? Yep, I eat them.

So here’s the thing. I feel like those two not-so-coincidences were just an affirmation of what was already in my heart. No matter how broken this record of a girl feels, I need to be talking about it.

I need to trust that my readers have often felt the same way I do and will support me, no matter what. For those who don’t, I can understand if you don’t want to continue on this journey with me. But the truth is that I could really use all of your hands to pull me out of the mud along the way.

I don’t want to make any promises of how many times a week I plan to blog, but I will tell you that I’m making a commitment to at least try to find my way back. Back to my Photo Phridays and weekly favorites. To my triumphs and fails. To my recipe trials and errors. And maybe even some wedding planning news along the way, if you don’t mind (because holy crap does THAT scare the bejeezus out of me). 

So now it’s your turn. Are you guys in?

Dreams come true--but hopefully not all of them

It was a few weeks ago when I woke up in a cold sweat. I could not shake this dream.

I'm always sort of jealous of people who have vivid dream lives--I've never been one of them. I rarely remember my dreams. But this one hasn't left me yet.

I was standing in this huge hotel ballroom on a stage surrounded by complete strangers. Next to me was my fiancé, microphone in hand, fielding questions and comments from the crowd.

"Yes, you, ma'am. What did you want to tell Erika about her weight?"

"And you, tell her why she'll be the fattest, ugliest bride in history?"

First of all, no more "Say Yes to the Dress" before bed. Or maybe ever. Yeah, probably ever.

Second, oh yeah, I'm engaged.

At the end of May, my boyfriend and I went to the beach, where he got down on one knee--shocked the hell out of me--and proposed with my grandmother's beautiful ring. The surprises kept coming, when a bunch of my family and friends joined us to celebrate. I had no idea any of it was happening. I was overwhelmed by so much love.

Since then, I've struggled with a lot of different emotions. I don't think I'm your typical bride to be. Maybe it's because I'm older. Maybe it's because I never thought this would ever happen to me. Maybe it's because I'm stressed about how we're going to afford this. And sadly, maybe it's because I'm most struggling with feeling that I don't deserve this.

I know deep down that I do deserve this. But I think that I've let myself slide so far backward that I don't know where to start again. I don't WANT to have to focus on my weight on  my wedding day. I don't want to not be able to breathe because I'm so undergarmented to death that I can't even do the Wobble (oh, and you bet your sweet booty, there will be Wobbling).

I'm so tempted to crawl under my covers and pretend this isn't happening. That's messed up, isn't it? I mean, something is totally wrong with me, no?

I love my fiance. I adore him. He makes me happy. He loves me and protects me in the fiercest way I never thought was possible. But, since we've been engaged, I find myself more easily irritated with him. I know a big part of that is my judging him for wanting to be with me forever. I mean, what's wrong with him?

I want to marry him. I want to be surrounded by the people who love us, who are already so excited for us. I want to feel beautiful and special and not worry about all this other junk that plagues me.

I just don't know how to do it.

I should be blogging. I should start over. But how do I do that? How, now, when I have such a huge life change looming?

I'm pondering all of this. I'll need you guys to help me through it. Because I might just be the most screwed-up bride of all time.

The hardest day of the year

I'm blaming it all on that effing Publix commercial.

You know the one. Pregnant mom making cookies with her daughter. Talking about the little girl's future sibling. "You should tell her secrets, like what a great soccer player you are. Or what a wonderful big sister you're going to be," the mom says. The little girl suddenly hops off the stool, presses her lips to mom's pregnant belly and whispers, "You're really gonna love mom."

Ugh. Cue the ugly crying. Seriously, last year, full on sobs after the first time I saw it. It kind of sneaks up on you with the sweet mom sentiment. Stupid Publix.

As most of you know, I lost my mom to melanoma in 2000. That's when I really started secluding myself and eating until I numbed the pain a little.

I miss her terribly. Every day. And there are some days that hurt just a little more.

Last week a dear friend who also lost her mom several years ago texted me and said she'd been really emotional.

"Sneaks up on you, doesn't it? Missing your mom, I mean."

Boy, does it. I usually think I'm doing well. And then I realize I've been emotional and try to pinpoint why. Oh. Her birthday. The anniversary of her death. Mother's Day.

It's hard to avoid Mother's Day. Stores are fighting for our business to "Celebrate Mom!" My TV, email inbox and car radio are inundated. Sometimes, it just starts to get to me.

It's weird. I sometimes feel like I don't still have a right to be sad after all these years. But I am, and I'm going to forgive myself for it.

However, after all that being in control, I've lost a little bit of it the past week. I can't let that happen. In my vulnerable state, sure, maybe it's OK to forgive myself a day or two of emotional eating--but not a week of it.

So in honor of my mom and in honor of me. I'm going to put down the "I'm so sad" french fries, and go on a "Yes, I miss my mom, but let's think of all the happy memories" walk. Plus, I'm going to have a glorious mother's day, because my best friend's baby boy is being baptized Sunday and his mom and dad have blessed me by asking me to be his godmother. How special is that?

Oh, and I've also started changing the channel or putting my fingers in my ears and "La la la"ing anytime that dumb commercial comes on.

Suck it, Publix.

Love to all of you who are missing your moms, too. It's never easy, is it?
 

Erika and mom, c. 1976

Control...Now I've got a lot

I told you about weighing in for the first time in ages a couple of weeks ago, right?

Did I tell you that I've been tracking my points like a champ?

Because I totally have been. And it's working.

Today I weighed in for the first time since then (I was at a conference last week and couldn't go to the meeting). And I lost got rid of...

8.6 pounds.

Yay!

The little negative Nelly in me, of course, is reminding me that I had heavier clothes on when I weighed in before. It's reminding me that the nearly 80 pounds I've lost is nothing compared to the 130 I had lost. Nothing compared to the weight I gained back.

But you know what? Screw that little voice. Today I'm going to give myself a pat on the back and acknowledge that this isn't a fluke. I'm going to remind myself of the sacrifices I've made these last two weeks to stay on track. I'm going to applaud myself for being in control.

And I'm going to celebrate.

With a cupcake.

Just kidding.

Strongly vulnerable or vulnerably strong?

Sometimes it's best to know when you're powerless.

I'm often powerless over food. But there are definitely days when I'm more in control than others.

Today is not one of those days. Or maybe it really is one of those days.

Those of you in Atlanta may be familiar with the Sweet Auburn Curb Market. If you aren't, you're missing out. It's full of tons of yummies, including a produce market and lots of incredible restaurants. My favorite is Miss D's amazing Triple Popcorn, which combines caramel, butter and cheese popcorn to create a perfectly balanced combination of salty and sweet. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

But I digress.

So, today, all the restaurants in the Curb Market are donating part of their proceeds to Children's Healthcare of Atlanta at Hughes Spalding. A whole group from my office is going. I've had it on my calendar for weeks.

I just totally canceled.

Today I'm not feeling strong enough to avoid the deliciousness of the Market. Today I think eating a salad while my friends eat burritos, barbeque and my beloved popcorn would feel like a sacrifice. Today I know I need to stay at work and eat the lunch I brought.

There are just some days you know better. And today is one of those days. Does that make me strong? Or extra vulnerable? Maybe it makes me strong to know I'm vulnerable.

For those of you feeling strong, needing a Friday treat or just wanting to have a delicious meal while helping kids at the same time, head to the Sweet Auburn Curb Market from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. today.

And have some popcorn for me, would ya? I'll be over here enjoying accepting my 9-point Lean Cuisine pizza.

Have a great weekend, friends. Next week--the triumphant return of My Favorite Things.

Thanks for sticking with me!

Opposite of love

There's a pretty well-known quote I've read a few dozen times. I've seen it written a few ways, but the one that always stands out to me is this: "The opposite of love isn't hate. It's apathy."

Apathy. Apathetic. A-pathetic.

Last week in our Weight Watchers meeting, our leader, Dee, asked us to sum up our weeks in one word. I said I could sum up my week, my last few months, heck, maybe even the last year or so with one word.

Apathy.

And apathy is a scary word.

Apathy means not caring. Apathy means having a lack of concern. A lack of enthusiasm. A lack of feeling. Apathy is how I lived my life for a long time.

If I really, truly examined the word, I'd find that none of those things apply to me--and probably never have. Not deep down, anyway. But apathy makes for an easier mask than what I really feel: fear, disappointment, regret.

So apathy it is.

But the truth is, I really do care. I care that my clothes don't fit. I care that I'm not in as good of shape as I was. I care that I'm kind of miserable. I care that I never go back to the way I used to be.

However, caring doesn't get you anything. Unless you try.

One of the things I love about my Weight Watchers meetings is that some of them are about the recipes and tips and tricks we want to share. And some of them--my favorites--are like mini therapy sessions. That's how last week's meeting was. It seemed many of us were having a hard time. It's always hard to admit that I--once on my way to total Weight Watchers success--have been a lot less than successful.

But I don't want to be apathetic. I don't want to be a pathetic anything. So I have to try.

Surrounded by my WW friends, I stood on that scale for the first time in months while they applauded me (literally). It was hard to see that number (even though I knew what it would be). I'm sad about how far I've let myself go.

But I'm not apathetic. So I've tracked my points like a perfect pupil since Tuesday--and I'm feeling better. More in control. I have a lot of things that I need to get ready for this year--the biggest of which is my 40th (gulp) birthday.

And ain't nobody got time for an apathetic 40-year-old.

So I apologize. I may just be basically rewriting this blog as a beginner and going through the same things I did when I first started four (!!) years ago. Wash, rinse, repeat.

I mean, practice makes perfect, no?