Same Old Song and Dance...
Saturday, March 09, 2013
Tonight, when I weighed, I was 268.6 lbs. Just like I've been the past two days. I know what you're thinking!
"But Jen," you might say, "you had Mcdonalds for lunch! You don't have any room to gripe about not losing weight!"
And you'd be right. I'm just a baby, I guess. I was super-good the rest of the day and I just had hoped that it might make a difference. I mean, it probably did. If I'd eaten something ghastly for dinner, I would have gained weight. I guess even I don't know what I'm moaning about. Just ignore me.
What I really wanted to address tonight was a comment made by SPSPSP1 that really got me thinking. She wrote: "How about instead of trying to talk that part of yourself into something, listen to what it REALLY wants and what it's REALLY afraid of?"
What a freakin amazing question!
I've been thinking about it all day. The easy answer is that he (the destructive saboteur inside me) wants to be loved and accepted, but feels sure that he'd be rejected if he tried to get close to anyone. So he encourages me to gorge myself and make my body more and more disgusting to others, making them more and more likely not to initiate relationships with me.
So I guess the question is: "How do I get him what he needs so that I can get him to stop trying to derail my progress?" Which sounds crazy, a little bit. Talking to bits of myself, but let's go with it.
Is the answer to try and make friends with more people? Be more social? I'm not as extroverted as I was when I was a kid. I need time to myself or I go mad. Does he need me to be a joiner? A leader? I've never been really great with my peers, especially now that so many of them are so much more advanced in their lives than I am. They have good jobs, romantic relationships, circles of friends. I'm taking time off of school, disabled, unemployed, living with my mom, with a handful of close friends that I haven't been seeing much of lately. I guess I just don't feel like I have much to offer or to feel good about.
Bloody Hell! This post is just a bunch of bitching. I'm just trying to figure this out and it works so much better on paper than just in my head. It's harder to ignore.
So... what does he need to feel loved, accepted, and safe. A writing group? Group therapy? Something safe and intimate at the same time. Something to think on.
Sorry for this post and it's bitching. I'm going to be more positive in the next one, I swear. I just needed to work some things out. I'm tempted to delete it now that I have done that a little, but I think I'll let it be.