Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Sometimes we hit walls. Sometimes they are seemingly every time we turn around. One moment we are flying high, and the next, someone has taken their kite and wrapped it around our wings, dragging us to the dirt. I keep trying to look on the brighter side, but it just keeps happening. So I thought the best way to deal with it all might be a blog since I can feel my steam dissipating.
If you read my blogs, you know that my b.f, R., had a mental/psychotic breakdown most likely resulting from his mix of drugs colliding with his chemo drugs. Chemo with a loved one is hard enough, but I was just spent. Emotionally exhausted I push on, but this is a step backwards and really really difficult. Essentially, this is Wall 1 because it stands in the way of progress for him and our relationship, and I don't know if or when it will happen again.
Then there is the whole give up my dream of teaching in the classroom for however how long thanks to the budget crisis in California. I worked really hard at something, got really good at it, and that big emotional and slight financial payoff never happened. Severe disappointment, That was Wall 2.
Then there was that little thing about R. calling me fat for the most part. Not a wall, but ticked me off none the less. (See last blog for that one.) Anyhow, life has just been really hard at times.
The thing that kept me going was knowing that I was still doing something good. Out of all this crap, I was healthier than ever before. It was nice to hear the positive things from people, because the rest of much of what I was dealing with was complete crap. Enter my sister, stage left.
My sister is beautiful. She is 5'8 with long limbs, big eyes and has the model build. Needless to say, the exact opposite of my 5'4 self. And this is after having my niece. I love and adore my sister. Aside from being pretty, she is smart and an extremely talented artist and just scored a full scholarship to her chosen art school next year, where her whole family is moving with her so she can continue her dream. You could say she is the whole package. Sounds great, right? Yeah, well...
My sister, J., calls me on Easter to wish me a Happy Holiday AND to tell me that my brother in laws grandmother (we are close to their family because they sort of took us in when my mom and then my dad died), she asked if I had taken terribly ill because of my facebook picture, the same picture I have on here on my blog profile. And then it starts.
How much have you lost all together now? 56 pounds [pre and post spark]
What size jeans are you wearing now? A 6, to which she replied "so your smaller than me now". And I replied, "only because you have hips".
What is a healthy BMI for your height? About 110 to 145 (she sighed)
And where exactly are you going with this? "Well 145 is far to much and I still have a lot to lose, so I am thinking 120," I say. "120 is too much. I was really too thin at 120," she says. "You are 4 inches taller than me!"
And I hold my breath because I can hear the words in her head. "I think you should stop." Okay so she didn't say it this time, but she has in the past. Instead she says, "Well, we should get together so you can see Jelly Bean [my niece] We can meet half way or something." Ah, the checkup inspection. Nice one, but I can see right through you. I did live with you for over half your life.
See this is how things work in my world. Someone dies or there is a messy family thing, as the older one, I handle it all for the most part. But somewhere along the way her getting married and having a kid somehow gave her qualifications to play "big sister" when she chooses. She makes me seriously nuts sometimes. And she knows I value her opinion and actually listen to her (at times) and she can make me second guess myself, and that ticks me off.
So my sister's issue with my weight loss and R.'s comments about my weight makes me think about throwing in the towel, in a manic I'm done/why bother way. Wall 3 is not there yet, but it is slowly building. And the thing is, that this wall would be the wall I would put there, not one that was placed by circumstance. That means I gave up if that happens. I don't want to do that. But being the people-pleaser that partly got me into weight trouble in the first place, I don't want to disappoint or upset my sister. Bizarre? Absolutely. But it is like an instinct. And then the other side of me pops up and says, what are you going to do? Go back to being the fat sister to please her? That's just stupid. Talk about unhealthy.
So what's my plan? Well coming to the end of this blog I realize I am going to regroup, clear my head, refocus. I am going to see my niece and my sister. I am not going to hide in big clothes to please her for appearances sake. This is the current me. She is going to have to deal with it. I am still overweight and I am not ready to build my own wall and stop myself. It may even be twisted, but I am going to wear my most flattering, casual outfit. I have even been thinking about getting my hair cut, so I may do that before I see her too. It has been a month since I saw her, and thus another size and various inches in places. I might as well get the shock out of the way up front. lol I can't help some things, but I can stop my own sabotage.
Ah, sisterly love! If you stuck around until the end, thanks. I know it was a long one. :)
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
That time is approaching in So. Cal. It's spring, and with spring comes the inevitable thoughts of swimsuit shopping. Yes, I know, some of you are dealing with 35 degree weather, but it is 80 here today, and by late April, many of us will be lounging around pools and trekking to the beach.
Now, I am a girl, and regardless of any weight loss, I have bathing suit shopping anxiety. I am not going near a bikini yet. I am just looking for something cute, since I have nothing that fits now that I have lost 50 pounds. In fact, the swimsuit from last year was tossed already. I already informed my shopping accomplice, A, who is currently at law school, that when she returns there will be shopping for a new suit on her next break. After all it is her house I will spend lounging around the pool when she returns for the summer. But I have to get up the courage in the meantime to enter those dressing rooms. Online shopping I go, looking at pics of various styles.
I find a few things and something in particular that looks a bit retro by Allen B. It's here if you want a peek.
It has attachable straps, and I thought I could also make a halter strap with my nifty sewing skills. That way, I would have various looks.
Randomly, I show the boyfriend and say, "I like this."
To which he responds, "Cute, but do they have your size?" Which would have been fine, if he hadn't then added, "Because she looks small."
Mind you I have worked my butt off literally, and have gone from a 16 to a 6 in jeans, which he is well aware of. So the after thought bubble to insert after the small remark is 'and you do not because you are a cow.' Bastard.
Okay, he didn't actually say the cow part. And the 'you do not' part was insinuated. Still...bastard.
I could really understand this if, IF, I was still a plus sized gal and trying to shop in the misses section of a store. That would be a perfectly reasonable thing to ask. I would not be ticked off at all. I faced that dilemma for years, and the disappointment of them not having a size big enough. But now? Seriously?!
I may have issues with the mirror and self awareness with my body, but it has been getting better, and I certainly know what size clothes I wear. He says he didn't mean it, but that is not what it sounds like to me.
Sorry, but I had to vent. At least I know who I am.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
For the last week or so I have been seriously thinking about changing my scale goal. Docs always said "Get to 145 and I think you will be slim and healthy and look great." Liars. Large frame by butt. There is no way that all that is left is going to go away in 15 pounds. In fact, I don't even think 140, the goal I had set would do it. So where does that leave me?
Well, after serious thought and review of my measurements and the issues at hand, or rather the ones I can still grab lol, I am thinking 120-125. At 5'4 and 125, that would give me a BMI of about 21.5, smack dab in the middle of the healthy range. Seems reasonable, right? So what's the problem? I can't manage to bring myself to change the ticker!
It's like it will shift momentum, or make it all seem so far away again. It is entirely irrational. I am thinking about losing that much. I have spoken verbally with others about losing another 40 lbs. But somehow that ticker is like the final word...committing it to a form. And then I seem so far away from goal again visually. Sigh. Maybe I will just wait until I reach 140 and then switch it, breaking it essentially in half. I'm usually not this much of a chicken, so I have no idea why I struggle with this stupid ticker. I mean, it is not like I have not been successful. I have full confidence in myself. I know I can reach whatever goal I set. Its just a strange feeling, so I thought I would share. Anyone else feel like this?
As my friend always says, just keep swimming.
PS I shared a secret on the new board about staying positive.
Friday, March 26, 2010
So I was feeling a little blue. I didn't lose anything this week, although I am not shocked because I lost so much (almost 4 lbs) last week. But it also gets hard when things get difficult financially, even though I know this is the real last month that will be like this with the new job starting next month. Still, I had some unexpected costs come my way this month that drained me. Down to the last few dollars, that ever makes me feel good. I ration everything at this point just waiting for next week. Anyhow, I needed to pick myself up. I wasn't hungry, but I realized I could eat whatever. But why? Nope, I decided. There is gas in the car, the cat needs food with some of that money and I am going to wander around my little town until I feel better. ;)
Near the grocery store is a JC Penney. It is actually next door. ;) How convenient. It doesn't matter that I don't have any money, because I know that is changing for good, and I will have plenty soon enough. Life will stop being so hard. So I push through the doors and head to the "fun size" section. It seems to have shrunk and has been pushed over a bit to make room for more dresses. Not much of a selection today. They seem to be inundated with unattractive matronly Easter dresses. Yuck! Still I look through the bit of options and pull every pair of capris, jeans and shorts in a 6P. The test...random items, random brands.
I march into the dressing room. Okay, I think, if this doesn't work, I am going to have to go home and go to bed. I take some jeans off the hanger. I hold them up. I am wearing my size 10s I have shrunk a few times, and they are still big. Granted I can wear the jeans I stashed that are a size 6, but for some reason, I always wonder if I have imagined it all. lol I unzip them and slip them on. Well, they didn't stop at my calves, which was a good sign. All the way up, and a rush comes over me as they button and zip. I turn and survey in the mirror. For the first time ever I walk out of the tiny room and look at the BIG mirror. (I was usually too embarrassed with myself to bother with that. Dressing rooms were always a timed, rush exercise for the most part.) I squint my eyes and try to see if I can see what everyone else sees when they see me. Not really, but I see the tag, and it says 6. A huge smile spreads and I sort of bounce back into the room.
I feel like a junkie, and need another hit. Okay I have never done heroin (I know way too much about it, but that's another story), but I am thinking that this is my heroin. Off go the jeans. On goes the capris and then more items. Off, on, off, on...this continues and my mood really picks up. Total euphoria! It didn't even matter that I didn't like the way some things looked or the cut. It didn't matter that none of it could come home with me. I could put them all on and they all fit! I didn't even mind the bad lighting or the fact that the mirrors always seem oddly tilted. lol
Forget confessions of a shopaholic...they need a new word for my new hobby. Try-aholic? I don't know what to call it, but that was better than any food, more comforting than anything else I can think of. It is my new mood buster!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Two days ago I blogged about being able to get into size 6 jeans. Well this morning I had to go to a meeting at the vet's office where I will start work next month. I don't have a lot of clothes, so I pulled out something old, a pair of dressy shorts, the kind that come mid knee and used to fit close. I held them up to me. They seemed like they would fit and I rationalized that if they were a little large, that would be okay and a belt would solve the problem. Plus, really cute with flats and a little jacket.
I slipped them on and belted them...tight. It was a bit like a girl wearing man's clothes. Well, that's in right? Oh, how I can rationalize. They wrinkled and puckered and I tried to adjust them so they looked gathered in the right places. Incidentally, it was at this moment that I realized that my belt is too big and it is on the last notch. I put a properly fitting top on and walked to wear R. sat. Asking him if this looked all right, explaining the dilemma of not much of an option otherwise. (Don't want to be overdressed and don't want to be under dressed.) He said it might work, if I didn't wear my Hello Kitty slippers. lol
I went back to the bathroom and finished my hair. As I lifted my arms with my vented air brush, my shorts actually fell below my belt in the front, if you can picture that. This will not work, I thought. I undid the belt and slid them off. There was no need to unzip them. Reaching for the trusty old standby, I slipped on extra dark washed denim jeans. So that is how pants are supposed to fit! (Literally, I have nothing that fits in career wear for the lower half. 9 articles of clothing aren't cutting it. I need to shop next month when I get paid obviously.lol )
I glance at the tag of the other dress shorts. Size 17...not just a little big for me. What the heck was I thinking? When will the brain catch up with the eyes? I held those up against my body and rationalized that those would fit me, even looking in the mirror. How? My brain needs some analyzation... But it's got to get better at some point. And hey, on the bright side, I think it is time to dump everything out of my closet and say farewell to even those things I have emotionally been hanging on to. Spring cleaning has approached!
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