Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The last couple of days have been difficult for me. I joined a competition at work with 3 other ladies to lose weight. We each bet $20 to the pot with the winner being the person with the greatest percentage to original weight lost by September 1. I will freely admit that I am a competitive person. I also freely admit, though ashamed to admit, that I am the fattest of the group.
In the past, I have obsessed with the metal box called a scale. At one time I had 2 different scales and I would weigh myself on both to verify the number (one was electronic and one was mechanical). Then that was not enough...I would weigh in the morning and then at night. Then that was not enough...I would weigh after eating or drinking...or just because plus still weighing in the morning and the evening. Did I ever mention that I was a bit compulsive and competitive?...LOL Finally, hubby hid the scales as my body image was getting wrapped up into the metal boxes.
With the competition at work, I started telling myself that I would only weigh once a week. Then as the other gals started talking about their daily weigh ins - I thought to myself...what would one little midweek peek hurt? Afterall, I am eating in my range, drinking allllll my water, doing my exercise. I stepped on that scale and had a big loss and was doing the happy dance which I promptly reported to my cohorts at work the following day. Then came the "official" weigh in day...and I was up a couple of pounds from my mid-week weigh. I was honest with the group about the current weigh number and was okay until I heard someone did better. Immediately, I found myself starting to jump into the pool of negative self talk. I completely neglected to say whoohoo to the 6 pounds I had lost during that weigh period. I grabbed some of my motivational books (have a bunch at my desk) and refocused and was going to survive ~ heck, I am still losing right?
Was doing good again. Well, sort of....I started stepping on the scale daily...just to keep tabs you know. Nothing I can't handle. I can quit anytime.
Then the conversations at work start back to weight loss. One of the gals is dropping weight left and right and I am feeling my toes edge towards the pool of negative self talk again. Shucks, I must be doing something wrong. I am not losing like her....and here I am eating all the right things, drinking my water, doing my exercise.....
I tell myself that I will survive this...and before I know it...as soon as I get home in the evening...my second stop after the restroom is the scale! Can't be the first stop because who wants to "weigh" with that extra water weight. And if the numbers are not "good" enough...I start stripping to see what the real weight is and how many more pounds might I lose during the night because I know that I weigh more during the day.
I have moved the scale into the kitchen near my office so that it is nearby. I have even started stepping on the scale multiple times each session to figure where I have to allign my feet and toes (such as long toes right below the molded line) so that I have the most accurate reading each and every time I step on that scale.
Like most addicts - one scale is not enough. There is a scale at work that I get on every so often just so I know how much I weigh in case any of my cohorts would ask for proof of my current weight - not that any of us would ever do that...but, you know, just in case. I am possessive of my scale....it is my scale. I don't like others using it because what if they move the dial just the slightest and it is not "JUST" as I had left it and then "IT" screws up my numbers?!?!?
Deep breath - sigh - focus....
My name is Crissy and I am a scale addict.