Saturday, January 25, 2014
There is an old saying that once you turn into a pickle, you can never go back to being a cucumber.
When I was little, my mother gave us 3 squares a day (small by today's standards, normal at the time) and all 3 of us kids were normal weight. Somewhere in my early teens, who knows why, I began to eat between meals. I saved my allowance and bought pretzels and Tastykakes. I snuck the food into the house, and snuck the trash out. No one ever saw me eat, but they sure saw the result. I had a half a front tooth and Mom wouldn't let me get it fixed until I was nearly 17. I was shunned at school, so food was my comfort, and somewhere along the way my reliance on food, my seeing food as more than what it is, as solace and comfort and entertainment, became part of who I am.
Roll forward all these years, and I cannot undo those all thoughts about food, but rather overlay something new and different. I was hoping when I went to WW in 1970 that one day I'd wake up and it would be as if I had never gained weight. I would be like my sister and brother, intuitively thin. But that never happened. They are still cucumbers, I am a pickle.
But that doesn't mean I can't overcome those thoughts and attitudes. I can, and I have. But I have to overcome them every day. It's like my great grandmother who came to this country from Germany. She learned English, became completely competent in English, I'm told she claimed to dream in English, but she still spoke with the old accent to the day she died. It was there, a constant reminder of where she had been and how far she had come. My incipient attitude toward food is like GGrandma's accent.
That is how I see my daily discipline to maintain my loss. As a pickle, I will always have to be careful with portions, always write it down (I still have that selective memory) and I know that as long as I do those things I can remain thin. The day will never come when I will be a cucumber, but that's OK. I know what to do.