Will I always have to do this?

It's a funny thing weighing your food and counting calories.  I mean it's inconceivable for me to think that there are other people out there that weigh their food and record it for every meal.  I guess it's that kind of cockiness that has gotten me to where I am today.  It's almost like if I don't believe anyone else could be recording their food then it must not be happening and if skinny people everywhere aren't weighing and recording their food then why should I have to?  

A month or so ago, I reread one of my journal entries from 2005; I wrote, "Will I always have to write down everything I eat.  Will this be something I have to do for the rest of my life?"  Every time I started a new diet, I started a new journal.... I have all these journal entries that start with me being excited and ready to lose weight and then after just a few entries, they stop.  No real signs of success and definitely no sign of persistence. 

I laughed when I read that entry.  I stumbled upon it at the perfect moment.  A moment when I was down, hadn't been recording my food, and was wondering why I had to record my food when other people didn't... of course, I have no idea if other people have to record their food.  Yet, at that moment in time, I felt like the stress from life was too much to handle adding the commitment of weighing and recording food.  Stress is something that often stops me from doing the things that are best for me.  It's another element of my anxiety.   

My hubby did start making us portioned lunches, healthy and weighed for the entire week.  I loved having these meals pre-made and they tasted great.  Like all things hard, we weren't great about keeping that going consistently and besides eating just my pre-made lunch, I was supplementing heavily with candy.  Something I LOVE.... I think I've mentioned that before.  

It's easy to think you're eating healthy because you do one or two things correctly and it's also easy to eat poorly because you think you're eating healthy.  I guess for people who eat healthy all the time or 90% of the time, they may not need to record their food.  I am not one of those people who eats healthy all the time.  I like to eat healthy, but I also love hamburgers and pizza and Chinese food and candy.... ya know all the really bad stuff.  So for me, I probably will have to record my food for the rest of my life and I'm going to have to learn to stop worrying if it's something that everyone else has to do or not.  It's clearly something I need to do.  I know it works for me and that should be reason enough.  

So for now, I need to get back on the wagon.  Those 18 pounds I've gained since December aren't going to lose themselves. 

I'm Still Mad as Hell

For the past four days I've been trying to get past the idea of being contacted by a "man" for what I would guess was only one thing....

And for four days, I haven not brushed my hair, put on make-up, put my contacts in, or felt comfortable in my skin.

And for four days, I've hid my body in baggy clothes.

And for four days, I've felt like my husband was mad at me or disappointed in me (although there is nothing to suggest this).  

And for four days, I've had trouble sleeping, had trouble waking up, and had trouble being happy.

It's been a LONG time since I have felt this much anxiety.  I don't even know why I have this much anxiety.  All I know is I feel like this is some sort of evil trick.  I've been very successful over the past three years with my weight loss journey and now out of the blue, I'm finding my insecurities are all still there.  

I thought I was strong, but I am not.  I thought I could do this, but right now, I cannot.  I thought I had an alternative to food, but I am learning, that I do not!  

I'm not even sure where to go from here right now.  What I do know, I still have no coping mechanism....  What I did have, apparently, was a lot less stress in my life.  Now that the stress and anxiety is back, I am realizing that food is still my coping mechanism.  

For four days, I've ate and ate and ate.  And I've exceeded my calorie goal every day.

For four days, my life has stopped.  My home life is suffering, my work is suffering, and I'm suffering. 

I guess the good news is, I have learned a lot about myself in the last four days.  And right now I'm scared.  I don't know how to move forward and mostly, I'm mad as hell (I guess I need to put that song on repeat)!  I'm mad that I can't cope in a different way.  I'm mad that I need to cope!  I'm mad that I feel guilty and I've done nothing wrong!  I'm just MAD!

This isn't a very positive or helpful blog post, but it's raw, it's honest, it's how I feel, and it's sad that this happens to women/men every single day!  

What it's like to lose 100 lbs

One of the biggest reason I wanted to lose weight was for my children.  I wanted to be sure that I was healthy enough to be around for a long time and that I'd have the opportunity to see my grandchildren grow.  I also didn't want to embarrass my children.  Although they would never admit it, I worry that my children will feel embarrassed when their mom doesn't fit the seatbelt on the plane or can't quite squeeze into that ride at Disney Land, but more importantly, I worry that they'll be embarrassed when they have to stop and wait for their mom to walk up the stairs to their school or barely fit on the seat at the school concert.  It's really the day to day struggles with being fat that makes it hard to be a good parent or at least one that doesn't embarrass her children.  

The timing of my healthy living movement was really based on my anxiety around my children's embarrassment.  My oldest daughter graduates in 7 months and I knew when I started this journey that I only had about two years to get down to a weight that wasn't embarrassing.  I wanted the spotlight to be on her, not on whether or not I could get up and down the stairs to watch her graduation or her friends finally seeing me and thinking about how big her mom is (WAS).  With 7 months to go, I have about 60 pounds to lose before I meet my overall goal, but honestly I'd be thrilled with another 40.  The problem is, as I have posted several times in my last few posts, I'm not currently losing weight.  

The bigger problem is, I kinda secretly hate my new body.  So, I don't hate it when I have clothes on
and I don't hate the fact that I fit into my son's coat or my daughter's jeans.  I don't hate being able to buy clothes out of the women's section or that my shirt size is large.  I love all of those things.  It makes me feel like me again.  I do however, hate that my boobs are smaller...a lot smaller.... One day, my daughter said to me, "I thought you weren't wearing a bra because your boobs are so much different."  I might be able to handle smaller boobs if they were a little less flimsy.  I feel like I could fold them in half.  I've always been busty and I'm still not small chested by any means (not yet anyway), but I have no volume to them and that makes me sad.  I hate them!  I don't feel sexy or beautiful because I can literally see folds of skin when I look into my bra.  Lots of folds.  

While my breasts are kind of a big deal for me, they aren't the only body part I hate.  My stomach, although it used to be similar in look (mom apron), it is a lot softer.... I don't know how else to describe it, but it has no bounce back.  I push on it and it's just floppy.  It's gross.  Oh, then there is my hips....  The skin just folds over there too.  Oh, then there is my butt.  Ah, I'm happy to not have a butt growing on top of my butt (you know, the extra hump that seems to grow at the top as you get heavier and heavier), but I had that it has not rigidity.  Another body part that folds over.  My arms are flappy too, but I guess I'm okay with that because I don't remember ever being happy with my arms.  Although they are flappy, at least they are smaller.

I'd love to be happy with my body and love me for me, but I think I was better at that when I was heavier.  I was okay with my big butt because it was firm.  I was fine with big breasts because they were solid.  Now, everyday I face a body that grosses me out.  I don't feel sexy for myself or my hubby.  I know that when I lose my next 60 pounds that it will only get worse.  I wonder what body parts will I start to hate then.  It's hard for me to be content with my body and want to lose weight when I'm not happy with the way that I look at the end of the day.... or beginning.  I'm not trying to make any excuses, but I think I'm self-sabotaging because I can't seem to find peace with my current body.  

On a side note, but also important to me, I feel weaker.  I used to think I was strong.  I could lift things, move things, and generally do things on my own.  Now, I can't and it is frustrating.  

Time to start building muscle and toning up this flabby body.  I just worry about how I'll handle it emotionally if I don't get the results that I think I should have.  And the anxiety returns and my drive to improve dies.  

Envy

So the other night, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw this post from an old friend.  I read through the comments and recognized someone I hadn't seen since about the 5th or 6th grade (maybe before that).  I tend to think that I don't forget about people, but this person hadn't crossed my mind for 20 years.  I went into total stalker mode -- Facebook is good for that.

After going through several of her photos, I realized she's still got "it."  Sadly, I was not happy for this 36 year old woman who seemed to have a pretty great life and the body/looks to match.  Instead, I went into total judgement/comparison mode and ended in a jealous-anxiety fit.  Immediately, I go into thanking my husband for marrying me (and I am very thankful for that) and spouting off depressing things about him not having the opportunity to find someone better!  WTF?!  I mean, I was fine! FINE! five minutes before that.  Proud of the life I have, the marriage I have, the kids I have raised, the career I've chosen, the weight I've lost....

This crazy behavior proves that although I'm "working on it," I still have a long way to go!  The good thing is, I was able to fall asleep and actually sleep.  The better thing is, I woke up refreshed and thinking why in the world are you comparing two totally different lives with one another?  I think this is progress.  This is something that could have brought me down for quite sometime.

I'm about to make a judgement/comparison/jealousy statement (admitting you have a problem is the first step - I think):  I am so envious of some of my friends who lead their lives full of happiness and love for others.  I try to do that, sometimes I think I do...maybe I need to give myself more credit, but these people amaze me.  I love them to pieces because they look at the world with an open mind.  Although I pretend to do this, I'm not as good at it as I'd like to believe.  I think deep down (maybe not that deep), I feel like if I open up to this person or that person, I might get duped.  Maybe they don't really like me, they're only pretending, and then someday they'll attack (whatever that means).  For this reason, I keep a guard up....  I cannot remember anyone ever doing something like this to me, but I remember feeling like this as far back as grade school.  This seems quite demented and makes me wonder why I have this strange fear.  

In high school, this boy kept asking me to a dance - so often it was really annoying.  I never said yes, but I probably would have if I didn't think that he was joking.  I thought it was just a prank.  He was a good friend and I liked him as a person, but I really thought there was some surprise ending that was lurking in the shadows if I said yes.  Why?  What would make me think that?  It's surprising that I said yes when my now hubby asked me out the first time.  It's probably because the risk was worth the reward.    

I think the woman on Facebook reminded me that I'm not the only lady out there.... Seriously, sometimes I forget.  It makes me question if I'm good enough for my husband; which is just awful and he's never treated me as if I wasn't.  It's just another irrational fear that I can't figure out where it stems from.  It's like I think, if he sees this woman and sees how hot she is then maybe he'll wish he had dated her instead.  Sad fact, I've deleted people from my Facebook page because they were too pretty....  What it the hell is wrong with me!

I'll take the small victory of being able to let it go quickly, but I wonder if I'll ever be able figure out what causes me to react this way.  Maybe it doesn't matter what causes it, only that I fix it.  Now, how do I do that?

Judging or Comparing?

For as long as I can remember I've compared myself to others.  I've been obsessed with knowing how I compare to other people.  In high school I wanted to know who was prettier and was mortified if someone didn't think I was the prettiest person.  This is weird for me to think about because I never really considered myself to be "that person".  I think it was all part of wanting to be accepted as an equal to people who might be viewed as better than me.    

As I gained weight I began doing it more and more.  I would see other women that I thought were larger than me and I would think oh that person looks cute and I'm smaller than her, so I'm fine.  On occasion, I would even asked my husband if I was bigger than some random lady and of course he always said no; which made me feel OK with the weight I was.  Comparing myself to heavy people (who I thought were heavier than me) was an excuse for me to keep hiding my obesity.  This was especially true if I believed the person I was comparing myself to looked great.  If they looked great, then I must look freaking awesome!

This fear of fitting in or being "normal" continues to haunt me even as I have begun to lose weight.  In many ways, this connects to my jealousy.  I worry that my husband will find someone better and leave.  I have no reason to feel this way, I just do.  

When we started working out, it was hard for me because I would see these women with amazing bodies.  My workout would then turn into an obsession about that person.  I would watch them like some crazy stalker and think about how they got to that point, what they ate, if they were in a relationship, and wonder if my husband also noticed their amazing body (although, I don't know how someone could miss it).   What could have been used as inspiration instead gave me an excuse not to go.  I preferred gym days where I saw lots of heavy people sweating on the treadmill, just as I was doing.  It gave me a sense of security.  I felt proud of those people for being there and I didn't feel like I was being judged.  Without saying anything, it felt like we were in this together and we knew how tough it was just to show up.  

I don't know why I judge other people.  I don't know why I compare myself to others.  I know that fear has ruled my life and that it still does and I believe this is why I compare and judge, but I know I've got to move past it if I want to move on and really be content with myself.