Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Okay, I have been away from here, like............FOREVER.
I have managed to somewhat maintain the bit of weight I'd lost.
I have joined Weight Watchers.
I haven't QUIT Weight Watchers though I have REALLY wanted to QUIT.
I am going to see a shrink tomorrow to see if he can help me with this. We are going to work on EMDR (a therapy that was very effective in helping me with PTSD when my son died) It was suggested to me by Coach Dean sometime back in helping me to deal with ISSUES I have with my food addiction.
I wonder what the heck is wrong with me. I HATE being this fat. Went to Cato's today with my daughter, tried on one cute blouse, 18/20. it zipped up, but I look 11 months pregnant. I hate how I look. I HATE how I feel... so what is holding me back? What is it in my sick little brain that keeps me running to binge, night after night???
I used to be a drug addict. I beat addiction. I started getting high when I was 14 (My BABIES have been 14..they are BABIES,,,,sometimes I think, my gosh, I was a BABY ADDICT!) ...life sucked back then. Life was hell. I was stuck at home from the time I was 11 with my mentally, physically and most of all EMOTIONALLY abusive Dad cause Mom ran away by working 2nd shift. Nice for her, hell for the little girl she left behind. By the time I was 13 I was full time care giver 5 nights a week for my 90 year Alzheimer's inflicted Great grandmother. WHY? Because my parents were such fine people that they'd NEVER put her in a home, THEY cared for her. Yeah right. I was stuck there with her in this hellatious prison they call Alzheimer's all week long. From the time I got off the school bus until 1 am when my Dad would finally return home, before Mom got in.
Eleven....that is around the time I began BINGE eating. By the time I was 13 I'd learned this nifty little trick of ramming my finger down my throat to get rid of the excess so I could eat more. Then I found drugs... wonderful drugs. I didn't need food anymore. I could get high to escape........and escape I did. I spent the next 12 years of my life escaping. I LOVED getting high. I LOVED escaping. I LOVED not feeling the day to day pain and fear that I'd known my entire life.
When I was 4 I would practice walking on the old plank floor when my Father wasn't home so I could learn to go through the entire house without making a single plank creak. I practiced for hours because of FEAR of him, all encompassing, immobilizing FEAR. I got it down. I learned to make it though the house without making a sound, like a little mouse, but even better...I WAS INVISIBLE AT LAST.
HE CAN'T HURT YOU IF HE CAN'T SEE YOU.
No one hurts me now because no one sees me.............is that what it's come to?
Am I so afraid of living that I survive in this shell I have made for myself of blubber?
When I stopped doing drugs, I gained over 100 pounds and have never been under 200 since.
My daughter is beautiful. I walk 2 steps behind her to see if THEY look at her and then I shoot THEM the evil looks that say, "I will kill you if you hurt HER. I can't let them hurt her the way I was hurt. We talk about my obsession. She smiles at me and says, "I understand Mom."
I never had a protector so I have gone so far to the other extreme that it's crazy. My kids and I talked about this a while back. They tell me I was way too overprotective. I agree. I work on letting go. I have always allowed them to make their own minds up, allowed them to HAVE a mind to make up. But if anyone messes with my kids, I go clinically insane, then I stop, take a breath, pray and lock myself up until sanity returns, yet they just smile and give me a hug & say, "I know Mom, I understand." What a lunatic they've had to live with, yet they are absolutely THE MOST WONDERFUL PEOPLE I'VE EVER KNOWN. My kids are great.
My Mother is getting older. She is starting to show signs of Alzheimer's now. She is pitiful and I love her...but sometimes I feel such anger inside because she NEVER protected me. She was so busy running from reality that she left a little girl behind to pay the price.
Now that little girl is still hiding from the world. She wants to step out into the sun and be the woman she knows she is somewhere inside, but she doesn't know how to escape Mount Obesity. Food has been my protector for so long that when I try to find my way to reason, time and time again I find myself running back to my place of familiarity, my island of refuge... an island I long to be rescued from.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Last week I stuck to my plan perfectly. I didn't go over my calories at all. Sunday we were invited to a Superbowl party and it happened. I ate chicken wings (only 4), salad, then the potato salad came in (German Potato Salad) soooo good. I had to have some of that. Then the coconut rum. I had a couple drinks. THEN THE CHEESECAKE!!! ARGH!!! I got on the scales this morning. Down from 250 to 248.6. I probably gained back 4 pounds from the party, but at least I still lost a bit of weight this week.
I was kind of okay with it this time, considering Superbowl is only once a year,... or so I thought. I thought, I'll pump up the exercise this week. I went for a walk for 1.5 hrs. Then I start wolfing down sunflower seeds. I haven't drunk my water today and I haven't keep up with calories.
Am I crazy or just really lazy???
I'm glad I am at least checking in here but I am so stinking angry with myself right now. What is so hard about just doing this thing RIGHT in the first place? I really don't understand why it seems to be easier for some to just set their minds to this and do it and why some have such a struggle. I'd like it to be just a little easier.
I think I'll go have a BIG glass of water.... or 4.
Please, if anyone has some insight, I'd LOVE to hear it.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
I wrote to Coach Dean a while back & was reviewing his answer tonight. I thought it was so good I just wanted to share his input here.
Hi Coach Dean,
Okay, this is probably a weird question but here goes. I have seen on some people's pages that a goal is to be whistled at, looked at, etc. by the opposite sex. That is an okay goal, nothing wrong with that, it's NORMAL. My ? is, how do I stop living in fear of that happening. I used to weigh almost 300 lbs. I got serious b4 and lost down to 225. When I got there, men,... well, actually ONE man noticed me. I was at Walmart and he was giving me THE LOOK, you know? Like, he noticed me not as a cow, but as an attractive woman. I freaked. After leaving Wallyworld I stopped at McD's and got the biggest McFlurry they make. I gained back up to my current almost 260 (lost 3 pounds this week, yea!)
I know I can do this,... lose the weight. I am starting to really believe in myself but already I am starting to WORRY, WORRY, WORRY about what will happen 40 lbs from now. I already talked to my WONDERFUL husband and explained, asked him not to look at me differently.
How do people deal with this NUMBING FEAR of being viewed as a THING or possession rather than a person. The thought of that is seriously making me physically ill. And yes, I was abused as a child. I'd really appreciate your input.
I don't think that's a weird question at all. It's really common for people who've been abused to use weight as a "shield"--I've done that myself. I think there are lots of things that can happen when you have that kind of abusive experience when you're young. One is that you end up believing that the abuser is "normal" and that it's something about you that caused the abuse to happen. By the time you get older that may translate into believing that all men will use you the way the abuser did, because that's just how men are--they can't control themselves around women. Being more attractive means men will notice you more, and that means they'll try to use you to gratify their own need the way the abuser did, while being overweight protects you from that, to a certain extent.
Or maybe you somehow got the idea that you wanted or enjoyed that sexual attention, and that's why the abuse happened. Later, any sexual feelings or desires, or feelings associated with looking good, may bring up all the guilt and shame associated with the old abuse--and losing weight makes you feel more sexy, so you go back to being overweight when that starts happening.
Often, too, these old feelings and beliefs get triggered by things like certain smells, sounds, looks, or other sensory things that unconsciously remind you of the abuser. I still can't tolerate the smell of bourbon om someone's breath without having flashbacks. It sounds like you have a similar problem with getting a certain kind of look from men.
Basically, to get past these kinds of problems, you have to "unlearn" what you learned as a child. You can do a little bit of that intellectually, by trying to uncover the specific assumptions you made when you were young and then looking at them from your adult perspective. You know now that many men don't lose control or try to use women as sexual objects--your husband, for example. And you know that you didn't really cause or want the abuse to happen, and have nothing to feel guilty about. Not every "look" from a man means the same thing it did from your abuser.
But that's usually not enough to completely undo the problem. You also need to "decondition" that trigger, so it doesn't continue to send you back to how you felt as a child. There are some pretty effective forms of brief therapy that might help you do that without having to spend months or years in therapy. One is called EMDR:
If you have trouble "talking" yourself out of this problem, I'd suggest trying to contact a therapist who's experienced with EMDR, and see if that helps.
Hope this helps.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
I am the Queen of fad dieting. I have binged, I have purged, I have starved, I have exercised. I have taken phen-phen, I have fasted for weeks at the time, I have gone on no-carb and low-carb diets, I've done the cabbage soup diet, the all fruit diet, the dieter tea diet, on and on, I've done them all.
A doctor once asked me if I'd ever lost a significant amount of weight, to which I replied, "More than 1,000 pounds I'm sure." This was almost 20 years and many, many, MANY pounds ago. I dieted my way up to around 300 pounds. I'm not sure of my actual weight back then, but I was wearing a size 28 and had to hike my foot up on a chair to tie my shoes, with difficulty. I now weigh 250 pounds.
When I joined Spark People this most recent time, a couple of months ago, I was viewing it as another "Quick Fix" plan. I saw the before and after pictures of people on here and I just knew this time, this would be it. This time, this "plan" would change me.
I initially lost a bit of weight, trying to work the system MY way. Well, my way doesn't work. I am 47 years old and it hasn't worked yet and I finally realize that it isn't going to work, EVER. I am not going to wake up day after tomorrow and be a size 6. I might never be a size 6 again, but that is okay. I will be the best me I can be.
I am learning that we all have the ability to make choices. Some days I will make the wrong choice but that is okay. If I am patient with myself & look for the small successes, give myself the needed "atta girl," then eventually I will succeed in a big way. I must learn to truly love myself by practicing control and empowering myself with my new found freedom from food.
Food has been my friend for a lifetime. Food was my Mother, my lover, my Father, my tranquilizer, my confidant, and my worst enemy. As with any loss I have been grieving the loss of this constant companion of mine that I am choosing to leave behind.
This friend, like so many others in my life, was not a friend at all, but an opportunist that has enslaved me for long enough. Today it stops! Today I am a whole person who does not need this twisted relationship any longer. I am sick and tired of allowing my wonderful body to be abused by this false friend! I deserve so much more than I have allowed myself to have.
I am a capable artist who rarely paints. I don't sell my work for fear of rejection. I am a runner who can not run for the physical pain and weight I am carrying. I am a wife that lives in fear of when I will be abandoned, yet again. I have few close friends because of this same fear. I hold my heart captive behind walls of stone that have been formed from butter, sugar and layer upon layer of dough blended with every imaginable ingredient. I have hidden for so long that I rarely see myself clearly when I gaze in the mirror.
But for today, I know this; I am here. I have succeeded for 4 days. In these past 4 days I have stuck to a plan of controlled caloric intake along with increased water consumption and some exercise. I have not wilted away, I have not starved and I am still alive. I know it is within my grasp to succeed.
I am determined in a way I have never known before. I may forget again but I will come back. I know others now who will remind me if I get lost again.
Show me the path back to this place of light. I am so tired of living in this darkness that I've hidden in for so long. I am ready to be who I can be. I'm not sure yet if I will be all the things I have hoped, but I am so very, very ready to try.
The choice is mine. Today I choose to begin living.
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