Sunday, January 16, 2011
I am a liar. I am a damn good liar, if I may say so myself. I've had a lot of practice, and the more I've done it, the easier it is. I don't necessarily think I lie that much more than most people, but it's enough.
I lie to get myself out of trouble, to buy myself time when I haven't done something I promised to do, and to make myself appear better or more important than I actually am. And most disturbingly, I sometimes lie about things for absolutely no reason, which serve no purpose, and spill from my mouth without a thought.
I lie to my boss, I lie to my clients, I lie to my nutrition tracker (!), and I definitely spew my rhetoric to myself. And for the most part, I've got myself convinced.
Lying is so second-nature, now, that I haven't really thought about it as a problem recently. But I just watched a movie called Dakota Skye, about a girl who knows whenever she is being lied to, and then meets a boy who never lies.
I started to feel extremely guilty about all the lies I've spewed just in the past week. And I googled, "how to be honest." This is what came up:
The author's suggestion for how to be honest all the time is this: "Never do something you will have to lie about later. If you have to lie about it, you shouldn’t be doing it."
That struck a chord. I usually am lying to cover up something that I have done wrong, or not done at all. If I strive to be better than that, to live a life where I don't have to cover things up, I won't need to lie.
I've made a foray into this territory before. When I first began learning about Buddhism, one of the precepts was "right speech," which means speaking honest, comforting, caring, and worthwhile words. I tried it for a while, avoiding lies, trying my hardest to make sure that each thing I said was genuine and heart-felt. It was extremely difficult, but yielded great results. I felt *more* powerful when I took responsibility for my actions, and I think that admitting when I was wrong made those I dealt with respect me *more* than when I convinced them that I was always right.
Starting right now, I am resuming my path of honesty. This is going to be hard. There's nothing more honest than that.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
There are two kinds of people: those who can moderate themselves and those who can't. After months of success, staying on track, keeping myself from slipping up too badly, I thought I might be in the first category. But the past few weeks have shown me I am smack dab in the second category.
Christmas, I have discovered, is my arch nemesis. I have avoided excessive refined sugar pretty well over the past few months, and I thought that I would be able to moderate my eating. But there were cookies. And chocolate. And candy. And chocolate. And chocolate. And chocolate. How am I supposed to say "no" to so much decadent *chocolate*?!
So I ate. The first night of waaayyy overdoing it on Hershey's Kisses, I felt incredibly sick. "Good," I though, "Serves you right. You won't do that again."
But I did. The next night. And I didn't feel quite so sick, which was unnerving. It's almost like the first time you have a cigarette. You cough and sputter and it tastes horrible to you, but for some reason, you have another. And pretty soon you can't do without them.
And that's just what happened. The next day I made a firm choice that I would NOT have any chocolate. I ate well all day, but then at night, I felt the tingle--the obsessive nagging at the back of my brain. I ignored it and busied myself with something else. But it wouldn't go away. It took an hour of feeling this obsession cartwheeling in my brain before I gave in. "I'll just have one... or two." About 15 Kisses later, the only reason I had stopped was because I had run out. And I hated myself.
I know people think I'm obsessive; that by not allowing myself to eat desserts and overdo it once in a while that I'm somehow denying myself joy in my life. I'm judged at parties for not eating the desserts, or having a drink, or filling my plate to overflowing.
But if they only knew that I'm an addict and that food is my heroine. You wouldn't judge an addict for not cutting loose and having a little heroine once in a while.
"Hey, recovering alcoholic, come on and have a drink! What's the matter with you? It's a party!!"
But for some reason for a food addiction, it's different. People judge you for NOT giving in to your addiction. I keep getting asked when my "diet" is going to be over. What a stupid question....
Yesterday, I didn't have any chocolate. I didn't cut down, I cut it out. Cold turkey. Because if I give in just a little, I give up. We'll see how this goes....
Monday, November 22, 2010
I love eating. I think most of us feel the same way, or else we wouldn't be here. So losing weight has been an interesting challenge for me.
I love eating, so doing less of that just makes me pissed off. That's part of the reason I really love exercising. I get to EAT more! Plus Zumba is so fun, there's no real "work" involved in the "workout."
Three weeks ago, I increased my exercise, going to lots of Zumba classes, trying out a kickboxing class, and doing yoga and bellydancing galore..... and my knee got mad at me, and is now rebelling. So last week, I reluctantly changed my "calories burned" goal from 2500 to 500, and watched my nutrition calorie range plummet.
And for the first time in a long time, I was HUNGRY! I ate to the uppermost end of my range, and was still starving. And being hungry made me mad... and being unable to exercise made me feel helpless.
I have a bad habit of perfectionism. When I can't do something perfectly, I say, "Screw it!" and end up going in the completely opposite direction. "I can't exercise and stay within my calorie range? Screw it, then! Pass me the entire bag of chips!"
Except I don't have any chips in the house anymore; I have fat free vanilla yogurt. Do you know how much fat free vanilla yogurt you have to eat to be considered "splurging"? It's a lot.... Like, REALLY a lot.... By the time I was done, I was so sick off of fat free vanilla yogurt, and felt absolutely certain that I had "shown them" (which is the funny thing about doing things out of spite... I have absolutely no clue what "they" I was "showing"...)
Out of habit, I logged it in my nutrition tracker, certain that the number would be so astronomical that I would have to just give up altogether, and resign myself to a life of fatitude. I clicked "add food" and: 234 calories. 234 calories? There's no glorious "f- you" in 234 calories. 234 calories just means I eat a lighter dinner and no post-dinner snack... I couldn't even FAIL at my diet correctly.
So I sighed, put the yogurt away, and planned my meals for the following day... *grumble, grumble*
Friday, November 05, 2010
I've not been feeling the best about myself for the past few weeks. Over the course of my weight loss, it's never been a proportionate shrinking. Some goes from my arms for a week, then my legs shrink for two weeks, then my chest, my belly, my legs, etc.
About a month ago, I hit a spot where I was well proportioned, and despite still being overweight, I felt beautiful and proud when I looked in the mirror. .... Then my breasts began to shrink. ... And shrink. ... And shrink. And while I'm still losing weight, my proportions are off, making my belly look huge again by comparison. I've been trying not to let it get to me. I've told myself that if I just keep with it, I'll start losing in other places (*crossing my fingers it will be my midsection*) again. But it's still hard to feel good about myself and the work I'm doing.
I was a little down in the dumps and skipped Zumba to clean off my hard drive. And then I saw it. My eyebrows raised in surprise, then I squinted and leaned forward. 'That can't be...' I thought. But they were pictures of me, all right.
And that was me in 2006. By the time I decided to start losing weight in February of this year, I had GAINED weight!!!
I've always been a master of dodging the camera, so I didn't have many "before" pictures of myself. And as you gradually lose weight, you stop remembering what you used to look like. And there it was clear as day.
I'm feeling pretty good about myself again.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Typically, the fact that I have a gluten intolerance makes it very easy to wriggle my way out of eating "obligation foods," which we eat to be polite. Your friend made cookies? Not a problem! "Oh, those look sooooo delicious, but I can't eat any! Too bad!"
However, this can definitely backfire when someone makes something specially *for you*. For her birthday, my coworkers and I planned to surprise my boss with her favorite things: wine and brownies. Since I don't like wine and can't eat brownies, I brought a snack for myself, thinking I was safe. Little did I know that my coworker had prepared special flourless brownies just for me.... Ohhhh... uh, thank you, coworker....
In case you don't know: "flourless" = "big old pile of butter and chocolate."
I couldn't refuse outright, and since there were only five of us there, I couldn't take one bite and hide the rest. I ate 2/3 of a brownie, thinking that would be safe, and begged for the recipe ("This is sooooo good! You HAVE to give me the recipe!") so I could analyze it on SP later.
Each one of those obligation brownies? 383 calories! And it's not like they were huge either. This means I consumed 256 calories out of social obligation.
I almost cried when I entered it onto my food tracker (and am honestly feeling a little weepy about it right now). It isn't like I haven't gone over my calorie range before, but those were conscious decisions. *I* was making the choice to splurge, and only when I really *really* wanted to. But to be forced into it just made me feel a little helpless...
How do I deal with this the next time it comes up (and this IS the second time that it has...)?
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